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#and ed's going to wear blue
asoulwithadream · 9 months
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fingertipsmp3 · 4 months
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I wish I had a gun so I could shoot something that is not alive
#girl WHY did i get offered two jobs on the SAME DAYYYY#one of them was the job i got interviewed for today which was a TA position at a further ed college#the other was my old job. baristaing#yeah you know that job i really enjoyed? that singlehandedly improved my mental health? and dislocating my knee & not being able to do it#anymore Fucked Me Up Royally? yeah. they offered me a seasonal contract#could they not have done this BEFORE i interviewed for two different TA positions and accepted one of them????? like for real#when i tell you if this woman had sent me this text message this time last week i would’ve skidded in there wearing a blue apron#like ‘yessss bitches did you miss me??’#instead i have to help teenagers become literate. FOR WHAT#i mean technically my knee is very much still not okay so if i did skid into the cafe i would absolutely wreck my shit. but still#i’m going to stick with the TA thing and hope they don’t royally fuck me up because like.. i know i can’t stand up for 8 hours straight#i just can’t. it’s not doable. it’s not in the cards for me#i could do 4 hours every other day but what is that. that’s not a living wage#i need to stick with the people who are going to let me sit down AND work almost full time. but god. why#i wish i could go back to the cafe. i wish i was pain free. and i want to flirt with gerry. but i could also just do that as a civilian#ugh i hate this. you spend god knows how many months functionally unemployed and two people offer you jobs at once. literally SAME HOUR#WHY#personal
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despite-everything · 2 years
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i have no clue what to do for my halloween costume this year... i have a custom star trek uniform i can wear, but its Femme. like its a minidress thats show-accurate from tos, and i can't guarantee my gender will allow that come october. plus i'm likely going to be attending multiple events, and need another costume, but the ones i want to do are all partner/two-person costumes! and i don't date! and my best friends are dating each other!
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astaroth1357 · 4 months
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I have long wanted to write a headcanon where high demons have lesser forms, so take a walk with me on this:
Imagine that the brothers are fighting with each other and one of them takes a serious hit, like, somebody's left hook got them right in the jaw and it was brutal. They fall to the ground, stone cold, and... just. Poof into a tiny little critter. Like a verison of their familiar. And they can't retake human form until they've rested and healed their wounds.
I'm doing that.
Lucifer becomes this fat-ass, little peacock. He's like one of those rotund Chocobo from the Final Fantasy universe, you just want to pick him up and squeeze him but he's slightly too heavy for that. His feathers are black, save for the tail which have black, red, blue, and green markings. If something makes him "Poof!" then he'll hide away in the Castle because he refuses to let his brothers ever see him in that state. MC can visit him, though, and he'll coo and get all fluffy whenever they pet his tummy.
Mammon turns into a three-eyed raven, but not fat like Luci. He basically becomes a bigger verison of one of his familiars, he's about the size of an eagle. For being the second strongest he gets "Poof!-ed" rather often because he gets caught up in so many fights. Most of the time, he's just a bystander then some stray shot hits him and suddenly he's squawking everybody's ear off! Hilariously, he's arguably smarter in this form so when he's stuck as a bird, his grades actually improve (if anyone can read his actual chicken scratch penmanship).
Levi becomes a snake. Duh. He has similar markings along his back to the colorful scales on his neck in his demon form. He isn't even the length of your average scarf, so MC can drape him behind their neck easily and he doesn't get in the way. He's absolutely MISERABLE like this, though, because he has no hands to play games with. He can get extra clingy to people if he's feeling cold, but MC has to invite him to share their body heat because he's too shy to signal what he wants.
As much as Satan would love to be a cat, he becomes a little unicorn (Sorry, I didn't make the lore). He's about the size of one of those miniature horses, but don't be fooled. He will snap your kneecaps and he's at perfect height to rear-kick his brothers right in the crotch. His coat is black but his tail, mane, and the underside of his horn are all his signature green. If he every gets "Poof!-ed!" he's big mad, so he'll spend the entire time trying to kick and spear his brothers so they have to suffer along with him. He's the cause of a lot of chain "Poof!-ings."
Asmo becomes the smallest, cutest scorpion you ever did see. Well, as cute as scorpions can be. His whole body becomes hot pink and he has the biggest widdle eyes (think those jumping spiders who wear raindrops on their heads type energy). He's also venomous as all hell, so his brothers HAVE to make sure that they continously call him "small, cute, and adorable" lest they suffer a week's worth of paralytic toxin. He can fit the palm of a hand and makes MC tie a little bow around his tail so he doesn't feel too bad about being under-dressed.
Beel, unfortunately, becomes a fly. A big fly (by fly standards), but a fly nonetheless. You wouldn't even know that it's him if he weren't traffic cone orange. Literally everyone panics when he gets "Poof!-ed" because it would only take some bozo with a swatter to put an end to the sweetest brother... Belphie never lets Beel out of his sight and even has a tiny leash so he can keep track of him if they have to go out. He's a lot easier to feed like this, but everyone has to resist that automatic urge to smack him away from their dinner plates.
Belphie ironically has the largest lesser form out of his brothers. He's a cow, more specifically a bull, but there's nothing special about him aside from the navy fur. He is a full grown bull and he loves to lord it over the others if they all get "Poof-ed!" at once. Also, good luck getting him to do ANYTHING in this form. He is a bull. If he does not want to move, he will not be moving. Not even Beel can carry him like this. He's the only brother who doesn't mind getting "Poof-ed!" all that much because of it.
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lokis-army-77 · 5 months
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Wear My Name
mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.0k
You've bought a new pair of panties. Hopefully, Eddie likes the little surprise when he sees them.
Warning: 18 +. breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex, lil bit of a hand job.
Thank you to my beta readers <3
Masterlist
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"What is that?" 
You turn to look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. With an eyebrow raised you ask, "What's what?"
"That." Eddie points at your lower back. "What's that shining right there?"
You smirk. He had noticed the little surprise you'd bought for him. So, you stood from your spot at the edge of his bed and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your thong. Pulling it up a little you say, "Oh this?" 
You knew by the short intake of air that Eddie had finally seen the full thing. The red lace of the thong had his name spelled out in what you thought were tacky charms decked in rhinestones. When you’d seen the Etsy listing for them you couldn't help but wonder what Eddie’s reaction would be.
"Do you like them?" You ask. You have to turn your body slightly to see his response as words seem to have left him. 
His hands were reaching out for your hips and before you knew it, Eddie was pulling down the grey sweatpants you had borrowed from him. 
You gasp, slapping at his hands. "Eddie!"
"Can't help it, need to see all of them." He sounded memorized. "Do a spin for me, baby."
He lets go of you long enough for you to toe off your pants and do a tiny spin. He gives your ass a small smack as it passes. 
"Fuck- baby you look breathtaking."
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
You let him pull you atop his lap. His hands are warm as they smooth over the fronts of your thighs. His lips kiss up your clothed spine and you shiver in excitement. He hums as he breathes you in. 
“Wanna see you bouncing on my cock with this on, Sweetheart.”
You smile. “Then lay back for me Eds and let me put on a show for you.” 
He does as you request, laying back against the pillows with his arms resting behind his head. He watches your every move, eyes following as your fingers tug at his blue and black checkered boxers. 
He's semi-hard, cock falling to his stomach, growing stiffer by the second. You take it into your hand and rub your Thumb over the sensitive tip.
“Mmh, that's right baby. Love when you touch me.” Eddie moans, tilting his head back to rest on the headboard.
You reach over to the nightstand and grab your bottle of lube and squinting some into your hand. It's cold. Eddie jumps a bit When you bring your lubed hand to his throbbing cock. 
Slowly you begin to pump your hand. He hardens under your grasp and you can feel it throbbing as his heart rate picks up.
Eddie bites his lip as he moans. His legs flex and his hips buck up. He lets out a groan when you let go of him only to quiet down when you turn, swinging a leg over his so that you're straddling him. 
His hands immediately grab your hips, thumb rubbing across his bedazzled name. 
The room is filled with heavy breathing as you situate the thin string of the thong to the side. You need him inside of you and so you take his cock and guide him into your sopping-wet cunt. 
There's a pounding in your core urging you to take him all the way. You choke out a cry as you do. The sudden feeling of the full stretch he gives you along with the fullness has you throwing your head back. “Fuck.”
Eddie's fingers grip tightly into your skin, flesh pudges between the digits. He's holding you so hard there will probably be bruises later, you hope so. When you nod to him, showing that you're ready, Eddie starts to guide your hips. Helping to move you up and down, grinding into his cock. 
Your mouth slackens into an O shape as the head of his cock presses deep within you. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you repeat as you bounce. Your pleasure is all that you can think about at that moment. At a particularly harsh snap of Eddie’s hips, you hurl forward, catching yourself on the mattress with your hands. The angle has him hitting just right and a guttural moan spews past your lips. “Eddie!”
“That’s right Sweet girl,” he praises. “Feel so good around me, just love when this sweet pussy squeezes me. S’my sweet pussy isn't it baby? All fuckin’ mine.” He grunts, hips pistoning upwards faster. 
“All yours Eddie! Fuck- my pussy’s all yours!” You cry.
“Yeah? That why you had to mark it with my name? Wear those slutty panties so everyone would know whose fuckin’ pussy this is?” He stopped his thrusts and before you knew it you were lying face first on the mattress and Eddie was shoving his thick cock back into you, pounding into you even harder. 
Short grunts and gasps for breath could be heard as he fucked you mercilessly into the bed. His fingers held your hips steady, fingers tangled in the lace of your thong. 
“Gonna cum inside. Get you nice and round with my baby. Then there won't be any question of who you belong to.” 
His words have you shuddering. Your body begins to tense as you feel yourself starting to come undone. “Yes!” you scream in answer, wanting nothing more than for you to belong to him and him to you. “Yes, yes! Fuck a baby into me, Eddie!” 
One hand lets go of your hips and grabs the hair at the base of your scalp. You mewl as he pulls taut, guiding your body up and flush with his own. His lips kiss messily over your neck and shoulder. You turn your head and he connects his lips with yours. It's sloppy, a mix of spit and gnashing teeth. 
“Oh fuck! Ed- Eddie I’m… fuck I’m gonna cum.” 
“Mmm. Cum on my fuckin’ cock baby, show me how only I can make you feel.” His thrusts pick up to a speed you didn't think was imaginable. 
Tears are flowing down your face as his grip on your hips tightens. You can’t take it anymore and with a cry of pleasure, you cum, your body trembling as he follows close behind. 
He lets you fall back to the bed, falling to the side to catch a well-needed breath. 
“Should wear my name more often.” Eddie gives a breathy laugh. 
You eye him, watching as the hand he has laid over his stomach rises with his breathing. “I make a note of that.”
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eiightysixbaby · 1 year
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12:25 A.M.
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word count: 1.7k
summary: eddie calls you late one night while he’s looking at your photos…. ;)
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut smut smut. this entire thing is just filth from the get-go, sorry not sorry. lots of swearing, eddie & reader masturbate over the phone, lots of dirty talking - eddie and reader are bein nastyyyyy, daddy kink on the low, mention of explicit photos/nudes, if I forgot anything lmk!
author’s note: yeah so uhhhh the eddie sluts discord was having a convo about eddie keeping dirty polaroids of you and thus, this piece of filth was born. i’m so serious there’s barely a plot this is just nastiness, enjoy!!! also: the photos in the photo set above are not meant to represent what reader looks like - they’re just aesthetically pleasing.
*Rriiiiiiiing Rriiiiiiing*
The sound of the phone startles you from your half-asleep state. You’d unintentionally almost fallen asleep sitting up in your bed, television still playing softly in the background. You rub your bleary eyes and turn to the clock as you grab the phone. 12:25am. Who would be calling at this hour?
“Hello?” you say into the receiver, voice a little groggy.
“Hey, sweets. I’m sorry for calling so late,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice on the other end.
“Eds, hi. What’s up, are you alright?” you sit more alert now, wondering why he’s calling you after midnight.
“I’m fine sweet thing, just had a long day at work and I missed you,” his voice sounds breathy, not his usual tone of voice. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“I had kind of dozed off, but it’s fine. What are you up to over there, baby?” you ask him, curling the phone cord around your fingers.
“Oh, y’know… just looking through those sexy Polaroids I took of you. Touching myself a little bit,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, and you feel yourself shudder a little at his words.
Throughout the time you’ve been dating Eddie, he’s gathered quite the collection of explicit photos of you. He loves to take pictures of you in all sorts of positions, snapping shots of you naked on his bed, you split wide open on his cock, you sticking your tongue out while he presses his cock to your mouth, one of your face covered in his cum. You’ve even taken some of your own to sneak into his stash, photos of your tits squished together, or your fingers buried deep in your cunt. Eddie loves them, he looks at them all the time. He keeps the safe-for-work photos of you in his wallet and in his car, but the raunchy ones sit in a box under his bed - for his eyes only.
“Touching yourself to little old me, handsome?” you tease him, pulling your lip between your teeth.
“Fuck yeah baby, it’s like I’ve got my own personal porn star to look at, how could I resist?”
Your cheeks heat up at his response, and you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You know what he wants, know he needs to get off, so you take the bait.
“Mm, wish I was there to touch you instead, Eddie,” you giggle, feeling heat rush to your core at the thought of him spread out in bed, jerking his cock to you.
“Shit, baby, you know I love your hands on me,” there’s a pause, and then, “What are you wearing right now, sweets?”
“One of your t-shirts, you know - the blue and black tie dye one, and a pair of black panties….” you speak slowly, drawing out the words.
“No bra?” he asks, his voice husky.
“No bra, baby. In fact, you can see my nipples through the fabric of the shirt….” you trail off, knowing what you’re doing to him. One of your hands reaches up to toy with your breasts as you speak, as if you’re doing him a favor by touching the parts of you that he can’t right now.
“Fuuuuuuck, I need my hands on you baby. Wish I was there with you right now,” you can detect the strain in his voice, can faintly hear the schlick schlick of his hand moving up and down his cock.
It only turns you on further, and you slowly slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, ghosting circles over your clit. “Mmm, Eds, I need you here right now,” your voice is seductive, pleading.
“Yeah, baby? What would you have me do if I was there with you?” Eddie purrs.
“I’d have you finger my soaking pussy…. two fingers, maybe three… need you to stretch me out,” you’re dipping your own fingers past your entrance as you get the words out, your fingers not reaching even close to the places Eddie’s can reach. “I love when you curl your fingers inside me, you know how to play with me, baby.”
“Fuck yeah I do, sweetheart, shit-” Eddie grunts, and you can tell he’s picking up his pace on his cock. “Wish I was fingering you, hitting that spot you love, getting those pretty sounds out of you-”
“Please, baby, love how you touch me…” you’re begging even though he’s not there with you.
“Would you suck my cock for me, baby? Fit my fat cock down your throat, hm?” he continues on, and his words have your head spinning. Imagining his fingers inside you instead of your own as you work to get yourself off. You’ve never engaged in phone sex before this, really, but with Eddie it feels so natural. It’s a different kind of turn-on to hear him talk to you while you know he’s got his thick fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you.
“Y-yes, daddy. Love having your cock in my mouth, need you to fuck my face…” you’re practically moaning into the phone, head lolling backwards. “Wanna taste you, please Eddie please…”
“That’s my good fucking girl, need to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Love when you swallow my load,” his breath is staggered as he speaks through gritted teeth. “Are you touching yourself for me, baby? Got your fingers deep in that pussy?”
“Yeah, ‘m so wet for you, Eds. Doesn’t feel as good as when you do it, though,” you pout, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, the coil in your stomach tightening gradually.
“Aw, I know sweet thing. Need daddy to take care of you, yeah?” Eddie knows exactly how to talk to you to send you reeling, your eyes screwing shut as you finger yourself, movements growing sloppier.
“Yeah babe, fuck, need you inside me. Want you so bad,” your fingers have set a brutal pace fucking into your dripping cunt, and you're almost positive Eddie can hear how soaked you are as you please yourself.
“Got me rock fucking hard for you, baby, can you hear me stroking my cock to your pretty pictures?” he taunts, but you absolutely can hear the filthy noises in the background - quieting your moans so you can listen better.
There’s a beat, and then you hear him spit into his hand, the sloshing sounds picking up speed and intensity as he presumably starts to pump his cock faster. You plunge your fingers as deep as they’ll go inside of you, curling them desperately to hit that delicious soft spot.
“Yes, fuck, it’s so fucking hot listening to you touch yourself for me,” you’re breathing heavy as you work yourself to orgasm, “Wish my fingers were wrapped around your dick right now.”
“Mmmhhh, I love when you wrap those delicate little hands around me, baby. I’m so big they barely hold me, princess,” he’s smirking as he speaks, loves riling you up thinking about the size of him.
“Yeah, Eds, you’re s’fucking big. Love how you fill me up, daddy,” he revels in the praise, and you hear him chuckle on the other end.
“My little cockslut, loves getting stretched by me, hm?” Eddie’s voice is low, sending electricity right to your core. “Shit, baby, my cock’s twitching just thinking about you… ‘M so worked up.”
“Want you to cum for me, Eds. Are you close? Love it when you cum for me,” you’re whining, fingers now circling your clit in rapid movements, getting closer and closer to your release.
“So close, sweetheart, wish I could cum all over that pretty face of yours,” Eddie moans into the speaker, little whispers of shitshitshit falling from his lips. “This picture’s one of my favorites, baby… my cock buried deep in your pussy from behind… my hand gripping your hair. Pretty ass of yours on perfect display f’me, fuck-” he’s tugging desperately on his cock at this point, whimpering into the phone.
“What about the one with me in handcuffs? Legs spread on your bed, waiting for you?” you hum, egging him on, getting him right to the edge of release as you describe the lewd photo.
Eddie doesn’t answer, just lets out a strangled moan on the other end of the line. The two of you go on like that for a little, mewls slipping past your lips, getting wetter as you listen to him cursing, panting, moaning your name. The soft pads of your fingers work on your clit, your insides feeling like they’re on fire with how worked up you are. Your eyes are shut tight, imagining Eddie settling you on his lap as he fucks up into you.
“Baby - fuck - I’m gonna fucking cum, shit,” Eddie whines, bringing you back to reality for a moment.
“Cum for me, baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you coax him, listening closely to hear the way his breath hitches as he finally lets go.
His moans are short and sporadic as he finishes all over his chest and stomach, and you continue to rub your swollen clit as he catches his breath.
“How you doing over there? Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna cum while you think about me? Bet you wish I was filling you up real good, huh?” Eddie’s relentless, talking you through the entire thing.
“Yes, daddy - fuck! Gonna cum, gonna cum for you, oh my god…” the coil in your stomach snaps finally, feeling yourself plummet into bliss. You’re clenching around nothing, moaning ‘EddieEddieEddie’ as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through you.
“That’s my good girl, you okay sweet thing?” Eddie coos, listening to you pant as your body calms down.
“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How’re you?” you say softly into the phone once you’ve regained some composure, body spent as you lay back onto your pillows. You feel like you’re floating.
“I made a fuckin’ mess of myself, sweetheart, came so hard,” Eddie huffs a laugh, and you smile.
“Hey, Eds?”
“Yeah, sweets?”
“Take a Polaroid of you all messy with your cum. Wanna start a photo collection of my own,” you chew at your lip, getting flustered thinking about how he must look right now.
“Oh, yeah? And why do you want my photos, sweetheart? Wanna get yourself off to them?” Eddie asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you.
“Maybe….” you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.
“Fuck, baby. Can I come stay the night? I need to be inside you right now, no way I can wait till tomorrow,” you can picture the puppy dog eyes Eddie would be giving you if he was next to you right now, and you laugh.
“Yeah, Eds, get over here. Gotta live up to all that talk,” you reply, knowing he’s gonna live up to that talk and then some.
“Want me to bring the camera?” he asks.
“Duh.”
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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
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We’re Not Friends
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Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?
warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.
*if I miss anything plz lmk*
a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.
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And that's why friends should sleep in other beds
And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do
And I know that there's a limit to everything
But my friends won't love me like you do
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The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.
Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.
So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.
Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.
"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.
Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.
"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.
Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.
He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.
He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.
"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."
Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.
You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.
However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.
You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.
"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.
Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.
Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."
He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.
"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.
His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.
"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.
Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."
Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.
"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.
Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.
It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.
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The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.
Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.
The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.
Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.
"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.
Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.
Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.
Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"
The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.
"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.
The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.
You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.
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The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.
Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.
Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.
Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.
The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.
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The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.
Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.
Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.
Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.
"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.
The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.
You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.
Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.
"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.
A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.
The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.
Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.
Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."
The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.
Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.
"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."
He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.
That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.
"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.
Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.
While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.
"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.
"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"
"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.
Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.
Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.
"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.
Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.
Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."
It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.
"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."
Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.
"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."
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Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.
"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.
You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.
"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."
Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.
Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.
Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.
It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.
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The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.
Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.
You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.
Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.
It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.
This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.
Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?
Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.
Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.
You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.
You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.
Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.
But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.
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Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.
On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.
While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.
You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.
Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.
"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.
You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."
Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.
"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.
Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.
Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.
Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.
"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.
"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.
The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.
Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"
Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.
A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.
God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.
Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.
The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.
"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.
You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.
Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.
"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.
"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.
"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.
In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.
The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.
It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.
Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.
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Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.
It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.
The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.
You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.
You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.
Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.
Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.
Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.
This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.
"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.
His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.
Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.
Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.
"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.
Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.
Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.
"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.
A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.
"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.
Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.
"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.
"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."
Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.
Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.
Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.
"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."
"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."
Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.
The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.
"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."
Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.
"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.
Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.
Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.
"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.
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The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.
A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.
You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.
All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.
The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.
To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.
So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.
Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.
You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.
He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.
Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.
"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.
You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.
"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.
"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.
Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."
That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."
Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.
Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.
You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.
He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.
"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.
Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.
Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."
"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.
"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.
"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.
Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.
The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.
"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.
His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.
"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.
Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.
"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."
It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.
"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.
"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."
You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.
"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.
His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.
You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.
"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.
"Thought you'd never ask."
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thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3
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1K notes · View notes
jenroses · 7 months
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Hey! Please feel free to ignore but you did say to ask you about masks :P the ones I've found that are multiple layers for max protection are really stiff, which squishes my face and leads to gaps. Do you have recommendations? Thanks!
I know that there's a lot of noise about elastomeric masks but for me they're a nonstarter because of the stiffness you talk about. I think it's important to understand that most of the 94-95 standard masks that actually meet that standard are going to be plenty good enough where most people are concerned. Is it possible to catch Covid with a mask on? Yes. I've done it.
Is it likely? No. I'm immune compromised. This isn't data, but our experience has been that a combination of masks, reasonable common sense and good filtration are enough that despite having a school-aged child, a husband who travels for conventions, and me, immune suppressed, with a college student living in our house, I have only had covid twice, the first time was an unfortunate collision of me going to a store at the wrong time where a clerk had both covid and the flu and gave them to me, and the other one involved a family member not using a mask at a public event while eating. Even then, when I caught covid and the flu at the same time and isolated immediately with filtration and everyone coming into my space being masked... not one other person in our house caught it, and when someone else caught it a year later, the only people who caught it were sharing sleeping spaces. Our roommates did not catch it, and everyone was masking from the moment of the first positive test. When my kid got half-assed about masking at school, he immediately got flu and strep at the same time. I pointed out that his lack of care about it could mean a lot of missed school for him and serious health impacts for both of us, and he started wearing a mask again, and did not get sick for the rest of the school year. He HATES the masks that go behind the head and wears Armbrust kn95 masks exclusively (dark blue, lol) And it's pretty clear that without the masks he was getting sick a lot and with he just...doesn't. He is wearing them all day except for lunch through full school days, so that says something. Armbrust will send little behind the head doohickies to keep them off the ears but he never uses them. At $2ish per mask they're not the cheapest but he uses one mask for multiple days so it's not too bad overall cost wise. They have kid sizing, but he's in the regular adult size now at 11. Now, I'll talk about Armbrust for a minute because I really like the company. On pretty much every mask they sell you'll see a video of one of their people reviewing the mask and going over testing data... but they ALSO have reviews of almost every other mask on the market, bad, good and in between, and if you find a mask on Amazon or something and want to know more about it, search the mask name and "armbrust" and the youtube video and product data page will pop up. I've found several special masks for very particular needs by looking through their database for combinations of breathability and shape that weren't even masks they sold. So if you are struggling, take a look at the database, eliminate "failed" masks, look for the ones that meet your needs and then watch the video to see what he says about them first. There are some VERY inexpensive masks out there that work very well, and some masks that are incredibly breathable or incredibly high filtration and a few unicorns that are both.
Now Hubby is okay with the same KN95 masks that our son likes but he exercises and his lungs get a little touchy sometimes so he needs maximum ease in breathing, so using that database I found Dr. Puri masks. Here's the Armbrust review. Here's the listing I found them on. Hubby LOVES them. He also prefers behind the ear. About $1.50 each.
I *hate* behind the ear with a hot hate, they bug me. But I can't just use one type of mask all the time because I have EDS and neck issues so pressure there can be awkward, plus I get short of breath sometimes anyway (history of pulmonary embolism that long predates covid) and I have sensory skin issues.
Bar none the most breathable mask I've ever tried, which also does not fog my glasses, is the Drager mask. These are soft, extraordinarily easy to breathe through, and have a unique strap that makes on/off very easy, and lets you pull the top strap and let it hang around your neck if needed. Unfortunately it has a VERY snug fit across the nose and leaves marks on my cheeks, or it would be perfect, but it's a good option, and possibly someone with a smaller face would have an easier time. These are possibly the best filtering and most breathable masks on the market, so for high risk situations this is the mask I would use. They filter 99.7% in testing. They're a little more expensive at about $1.25 per when I checked today. For a good intersection of fit and comfort, but a little less breathable, are the ACI N95 surgical respirator duckbills. These do not leave marks, don't fog much, good seal around the face, and the single most comfortable head strap I've ever seen. The fabric is very smooth, it is sensory good, but the breathability is not as high. It's not hard to breathe through, it's just not as easy as Drager or Dr. Puri. But... They could probably pass an N99 standard by Armbrust's testing, as they filter >99.4% of particulate, where the standard is 95%. These are also incredibly cheap. If you get their subscribe and save discount (you can do every 6 months) you can get 50 for $25, so 50 cents apiece.
All of these masks are pretty soft, easy to wear, and very good at what they do.
The TL:DR though.... The important thing is to find a mask that you will wear consistently and correctly every time you need it. A mask that hangs on your face and slips is not a good mask for you. A mask you hate so much you make excuses not to wear it is not a good mask for you. A mask that breaks easily or makes it hard to breathe so you end up taking it off is not a good mask. If what you have isn't working, there are LOTS of things that might.
Last Armbrust plug: THEY HAVE A SAMPLER PACK. You can buy a pack of a zillion different types and styles of mask and try a bunch! And order the one you like best! If you aren't sick, one sampler pack can be tried by the people in your household so everyone can figure out what works for them!
Also, I used to get sick very very often and now I just...don't. Not from contagious viruses, anyway. I don't understand why people are so cavalier about it. I've been sick less since 2020 than in any given six month period in my entire life. Despite being on immune suppressants.
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eddie-van-munson · 4 months
Text
The Princess Bride (Farmhand!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader)
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Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Nothing Graphic), Kissing, One Subtle Allusion to Smut, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn...I think that's it?
Summary: You've been best friends with the stable boy since childhood, but when a suitor comes from across the sea to ask for your hand in marriage, you're forced to finally confront your feelings for him.
A/N: I hope y'all like this! I've had this in my drafts for literally over a year, but people seemed interested when I asked, so here it is! Please, Please, Please leave a comment! It will keep me writing!
Six Years Old
Your earliest memory of him was from the stream. 
His head was a mess of wild brown curls, so thick they nearly covered his eyes, and his pants had been rolled up past his knees. You'd been sitting in the gardens, ignoring your tutor's endless lesson on etiquette, when you spotted him through the clearing. He wobbled as he waded further, jumping forward suddenly as he tried to catch a fish with his hands. You had to hide your giggle with a polite cough, lest you be scolded.
The boy heard you, though. He stared at you as you obediently walked along the bank behind a man with a large nose. 
You made eye contact with him, and as soon as he noticed he'd won your attention, it became a game. Suddenly, he was pulling funny faces and splashing around the creek like a giant. He held your gaze all the while, flashing you a two-front-toothless grin when you finally fell into a fit of giggles. 
You'd had to recite forty lines that afternoon because of him, but it was well worth it to share a laugh as he mucked about in the water.
***********
Six Years Old
The next time you saw the boy, you'd fallen ill with fever. It'd been a few months since the stream, and you almost didn't recognize him as he plopped a bundle of healing herbs down on your bedside table. 
"You don't look like a Princess." He crossed his arms before him as he eyed you suspiciously. "You're awfully pale…And you're not even wearing a crown or a dress or anything." 
"I'm sick, you knob." You frowned, "No one wears a crown to bed." 
He hummed, sticking up his nose. "I thought Princesses had to be grown-ups." 
"I'll be queen when I'm a grown up." You announced, bossily. "And you'll have to do everything I say, or I'll send you to jail." 
He scoffed, "Not if I'm the King! The Queen has to do what the King says!" 
You rolled your eyes, "Well, you can't be King." 
"Yes, I can! Haven't you ever read King Arthur?" He pointed, brows raising. "I just have to find an enchanted sword and pull it out of a stone. Then I'll be the King, and I'll send you to jail." 
Your cheeks went pink as you argued, "King Arthur isn't even real!" 
"Yes, he is! And I'll be just like him! King Edward the First!" You giggled, and the boy flipped around from where he'd started strutting around the room, proudly. "What?"
"Edward is a funny name." 
As wildly offended as the boy was by this comment, he had to hide the smile that crept to his face at the sound of your hoarse laughter. "It is not!" 
"Yes, it is! Who's ever heard of a King called Ed? King Eddie!" You held your stomach, falling into another fit of giggles. 
He turned from you indignantly, "Fine! Stay here all alone with your smelly herbs, then! I don't need any silly ole' princess!" 
"No!" You croaked, sitting up in bed. "Don't go. It's so boring up here. I can hardly stand it." 
He sighed, putting a hand on his hip, and thought for a moment. "Only because you'll have me beheaded if I don't." 
***********
Ten Years Old 
"Oh goodness…You've gotten mud on your dress!" 
Your mother fussed over the little blue dress you were wearing, kneeling beside you to get a better look at the damage. Splotches of brown had been smeared over your front. Even your hair had a few streaks of dirt. 
"I got in a mud fight with Eddie." You informed her, as if the mess was perfectly justified by this. 
She chuckled, "I see. It looks like he may have won this time, hm?" She gave your cheek a gentle pinch, making your nose scrunch. 
"No, he didn't!" You turned, pointing at your friend. He dragged his feet behind you, looking defeated. 
Your mother burst into pretty laughter at the sight of him, resting a hand on her stomach. "Oh lamb…come here." 
The poor boy was absolutely caked in dirt. Not an inch of him was left unscathed. His wild curls were sopping with heavy mud, and you couldn't even see the embarrassed flush on his pouty face. He looked like he'd rolled around in the pig pen.  
The queen tutted affectionately, smirking. "Oh what am I going to do with you two?" 
***********
Thirteen Years Old
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tears welled in your eyes as you sat in the windowsill in your room, watching Eddie as he walked quietly by himself in the distant fields, below. "I don't like seeing him cry." 
"He'll be alright, love." Your mother cooed, taking a seat beside you. "I know it's hard to see him in pain, but the poor dear's lost his mother. It might take some time for him to feel like himself again." 
You sniffled, holding your knees. The words trembled when you spoke again.  "He'll be sent away, won't he? He won't be allowed to stay at the palace anymore." 
The Queen frowned, stroking your hair. "Why do you say that?" 
"His mother worked in the laundry. That's why he's lived here so long. Without her, he-" You trailed off, voice cracking as you gave a soft sob. 
"Oh, silly girl." She chuckled softly as she dried your tears. "You think we'd throw Eddie out all on his own?" 
Your brow furrowed, confused. 
"Eddie's a strong boy, sweetheart. He works very hard in the stables and takes good care of the horses. He holds his own…and even if he didn't, he's family. We'd never send him away." 
Your whole demeanor relaxed, "You really mean it?" 
Your mother smiled, "Of course." 
Still, your eyes didn't leave him. You sighed, "He's so sad...He's sad and I don't know how to fix it. 
"I wish we could fix it for him, darling, but that's not how these things work. You can't take away that hurt. You just have to let him feel it." She straightened her dress as she stood, giving your hand a loving squeeze. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't use a friend." 
***********
Fourteen Years Old 
"I didn't know Princesses were allowed to climb trees." Eddie's grin was stained sweet and red, his legs crossed over a branch lazily as you plucked another strawberry from the bushel you'd collected that morning. 
Your etiquette teachers would be appalled if they could see you now, wearing little more than a chemise in the summer heat as you straddled a thick tree branch. Your feet were bare and dirty where they hung in the breeze. You smirked, "They are if nobody sees them." 
Eddie laughed, and it was such a clear sweet sound that you wished you could keep it tucked inside a locket. You sighed, longing to freeze time and keep things just the way they were forever.
You relaxed against a branch, "I've got my whole life to do what royalty is supposed to do. I've got to do fun things while I can still get away with it."
Eddie chuckled, "Maybe I'm a bad influence on you, after all.
You frowned, "Did someone say that to you?" 
He shrugged, unbothered. "The maids whisper it. They say a young lady shouldn't be left alone with a young man." He put on his best 'prim' voice, making you giggle. "I'm a threat to your innocence!" 
You held your stomach, laughing. "A threat to my innocence? That's horrible!" 
He grinned, "You're telling me!" 
The breeze rustled the leaves in the tree as you lounged, breathing in the sweet summer air. 
Eddie had strawberry juice on his lips. For the first time, the tiny, ant-sized thought of kissing it away crawled into your brain. You squished the ant. 
A bad influence, indeed. 
***********
Fifteen Years Old 
"Tag!" 
Eddie sprang up from the corner of the barn, sprinting after you as you ran off into the fields. 
You lost him quickly, cutting down and into the gardens. The morning dew was cool as the grass tickled your bare feet, and you nearly slipped as you ran over the stone path. A gloved hand grabbed your elbow to steady you. You turned to see a member of the palace guard; his brows furrowed. "There you are, Princess. Your Mother-" 
It all happened so quickly. Eddie ran through the bushes, a playful grin tugging his lips, and grabbed you from behind, "I've got you!" He yelled, drowning out your giggles. 
Before you realized what was happening, the guard ripped you from his hold, tossing you aside. Eddie was thrown onto the stone path, his temple hitting hard against the tile. Distantly, he heard you shriek. His vision was fuzzy and starry when he felt the weight of the guard pin him down, a drawn sword shoved against his throat. "You shall not touch her!”
"Stop! Stop it!' You grabbed the guard's arm, But he threw you back down. Eddie choked your name. 
"Stay back!" The guard barked at you, pressing harder against the blade. Eddie could feel blood trickling from his head. He was trembling, eyes closed tight. Still, the guard yelled in his face, “Who are you? Hands by your side!” 
"He's my friend!" You screamed hoarsely.
"Get off of him this instant!"
You'd never been so happy to hear your mother's voice in your life. The guard dropped his sword at the sight of her rushing towards him. Immediately, his face drained pale as a ghost. "Y-Your majesty!" 
"Get off of the boy, for god sakes, he's a child! Get off!" The man clambered off of Eddie as your mother knelt beside him, fussing over him dotingly, "Oh sweetheart, your head…You're shaking like a leaf…" 
He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. The queen turned to the guard as you pitifully crawled over to your friend, pushing his curls back off of his forehead. "I'm sorry I'm sorry-" 
The guard searched for an explanation, "Your majesty, I thought the boy was-" 
"I know what you thought!" She snapped, sternly. She was well aware of the whispers surrounding yours and Eddie's friendship. Your mother's lips were pursed, cheeks red. You'd never seen her like that before in your life. "It gave you no right to hold a weapon to that child's throat!" 
"Your highness, I-" 
Your mother ignored the guard, turning back to you. "Help me get him inside." You nodded obediently as she squeezed Eddie's shaking hand, "I'll send for a doctor to check your head, darling."  
Eddie nodded, dizzily. 
You sat with him later that night when the doctor had gone and his head had cleared. The mark on his forehead would scar, no doubt, but it had been well tended, and any concussion he suffered was minor. This knowledge, of course, did nothing to soothe his nasty headache. 
"You're not a very good sport, you know." He groaned as you took his hand, smirking. "Siccing the palace guards on me just because I tagged you?" He tutted, "What a sore loser." 
***********
Sixteen Years Old 
"You have to tell!" You ran after Eddie as he hauled a sack of oats through the gardens to the stable. 
He ignored you, holding his nose high. "No, I don't. I don't have to tell you everything just because you're a princess."
You crossed your arms, "You have to tell me because I'm your best friend, you knob. Best friends don't keep secrets!" 
"Sure, they do. You mean to tell me you've never kept a secret from me?" 
You groaned, "That's different! You have to tell me if you fancy someone!" 
Eddie sighed, turning to face you, and dropped the sack of oats. "Why do you want to know so bad?" 
You blushed, stammering. "I…I want to help you confess your love!" 
Eddie laughed, "What a lie! You just want to tease me!" 
"Oh, Come on!" You pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders. If you tell me who it is, I'll tell you a secret, too."
"Tempting." He sighed, picking up the sack again and throwing it over his shoulder. "But no." 
***********
Eighteen Years Old
"You've got to keep it down…"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he guided you towards the stables. "Why?" 
He laughed, "If I told you why, then it wouldn't be a surprise." 
He smirked when you groaned, reaching for the latch on the barn door. “You know I don't like surpris-..." 
 You went silent as he led you inside slowly, revealing a soft colored mare, and below her, her newborn foal.
"Oh!" You gasped, a smile creeping to your face. You stepped forward, wanting to approach the baby, but Eddie took your arm, gently pulling you back.
"You've got to be careful...the mare's protective of her. I nearly got kicked in the teeth this morning." He chuckled, enjoying the amazement in your eyes as you watched the mother and baby interact. 
"She's beautiful." You mumbled, grinning. 
Eddie couldn't help but smile, "She's strong too..." He paused, breath fanning your neck as he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. "She'll make a good riding horse, one day." 
You met his brown eyed gaze, biting your lip shyly as he nudged your arm with his elbow. 
You could feel him admiring you. 
You liked it.
***********
Nineteen Years Old
"Oh, Eddie. He was horrible…You wouldn't have been able to stop laughing!" 
Eddie clutched his stomach, laying back against the grass as he toyed with a wildflower. "That's because it's funny!" 
Your fingers fumbled with the ends of your hair, untangling the intricate hairstyle it's been tied up in. "It's not so funny when it's you!" 
Eddie grinned, looking starry eyed, "It really just fell off of his head?" 
"During dinner!" You exclaimed. Eddie fell into another fit of laughter. "Right onto his plate in front of everyone!" 
Your friend sighed, wiping his happy tears as he sat up to gather a handful of clovers. "I can't believe he wore an honest to God wig. The poor lamb." 
You laughed at his faux sympathy, watching his hands as he wove together stems. 
He looked so different from the little boy you'd befriended as a child. His wild curls had grown just past his shoulders now, his bangs often covering the scar on his temple. His arms and back were beautiful, muscles sloping gently beneath his skin, and while he was a hint more bronze than he had been as a boy, his freckles remained. His nose and his dimples had never changed in the slightest, and those big brown eyes reassured you that no matter how much Eddie had grown up, he'd always be that silly little boy, deep down. He'd always be your Eddie. 
"But what's the verdict?" He chuckled, "You never said. Is he the one?" 
You groaned, "You're mocking my pain." 
"I am not!" He fought a smirk. "I didn't want to assume. Maybe he was a wonderful conversationalist." 
You giggled, yawning. "I wouldn't know. I didn't catch a word he said after his hair went into his soup. 
Eddie gave you a fond smile, laying on his elbow beside you, "Here you are, princess. A crown." 
Your heart felt oddly achey as he draped a handmade crown of wildflowers over your head. You smiled, affection in your eyes. 
Your throat was tight when you spoke, "You're better than any prince, Eddie Munson." 
His cheeks flushed faintly. "Well, I don't know about that…" He tapped your nose playfully. "Most princes don't smell like a barn." 
***********
Twenty Years Old 
"Eddie, darling!" Your mother had called to him as he cut through the gardens back to the stable. His brows raised when he turned to find the Queen accompanied by you and the King. A man Eddie had never seen before held your arm, an unreadable expression on your face. Eddie bristled. 
"Your Majesties." Eddie nodded his head politely as the group approached, his muscles stiff with wariness. 
Your father gave a proud smile, gesturing to the stranger on your arm. "Son, let us Introduce you to Prince Carver the Fourth: Heir to the Throne of Hawkins."  
"An honor to meet you, Your Highness." Again, Eddie bowed his head. He'd never seen someone that looked so stiff. The two of you would have fun joking about it, later. 
Prince Carver was older than you, and by the looks of him, he'd never been outside a day in his life. Every last one of his blonde hairs had been tediously placed, as if he'd been sculpted out of clay, and his boots were perfectly polished black leather. The blonde eyed Eddie with disdain, crinkling his nose at the sight of his work clothes. "Yes, I'm sure." 
Eddie fought an eye roll. Another suitor, he assumed. The Royals were only being polite by offering him a tour, seeing as he'd travelled so far only to be rejected.
The Queen stepped towards him, glancing at the prince. "Eddie has become a very dear friend to our daughter, Prince Carver. Perhaps he would make a nice addition to your staff. He's served us so well in our stables." 
Confusion was visible in Eddie's face. An addition to his staff? What was going on? He looked to you for help, but your eyes were cast down into the grass. 
Prince Carver cleared his throat, "Unfortunately, we aren't lacking any farmhands at the moment, but you need not worry about the princess, your highness. She'll find much companionship in Hawkins, once we are wed."
Eddie felt his blood go cold. Absolutely frigid. 
Once we are wed. Once we are wed. Once we are wed.
His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn't find a single word. He was desperate to look you in the eyes, but his gaze was only met by a small shimmer on your left hand. An engagement ring. 
"Please excuse me, Your Majesties." 
****
Eddie hadn't cried like this since his mother died. 
He hadn't felt the blow of such terrible loss since he'd been orphaned. 
He sat alone in the barn on a stool, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gently stroked his fingers through the mane of the foal he'd surprised you with two years ago.
It was a pretty horse…full grown now and patterned with soft brown spots across her back. You'd named her "Sweetheart" after hearing Eddie call her that. 
Come're, Sweetheart. 
Here you go, Sweetheart. 
Good job, Sweetheart…That's it. 
Pain shot through his chest at the realization that the horse would probably get to go with you to your new home. 
But not Eddie. Eddie would be left behind. 
He clenched his jaw, eyes burning as he buried his fists in his curls and tugged. He was angry. He couldn't help but feel angry. It wasn't fair. His whole heart was being shipped off to God knows where, and there wasn't a word he could say about it. 
It wasn't your fault. You were a princess. Your hand in marriage was a pawn in a game of political chess. It had been since the beginning. Both of you knew this. You always had. So why weren't the two of you happy that this inevitable union was one that would lead the country to thrive? 
Eddie took a deep breath, relaxing his hands from his hair and rubbing tears from his face. 
You'd daydreamed with Eddie before. Lots of times. It was always the same thing.
I wish we could just run off and live in the woods, Eds. Just you and me. We could build a little cottage beside a stream. That way, we could swim in the summertime. You could finally teach me to fish, too. 
Is that what he'd been expecting? Had he hoped, deep down, that he'd somehow end up in that cottage after all, spending summer days with you by a stream? 
Maybe. Or maybe he'd just wanted you. 
He'd dreamt up hundreds of different futures for himself. There were countless paths he'd wandered down curiously in his head, over the years. Some were outlandish and fantastic…some were more modest. As much as they varied from day to day, he was realizing now that his hopes for the future had always held something in common. 
He'd always had you. 
****
The next week seemed never ending. 
Eddie didn't see you once. You were avoiding him. That much was obvious. 
Before the proposal, you made a habit of visiting Sweetheart at least once every day. You liked to brush her as you talked with Eddie, twisting braids into her coarse hair. She was spoiled rotten, no doubt, but that didn't leave the horse feeling any less deprived of attention with the sudden loss of your quality time. She'd gotten fussy over the week, whinnying and pacing in her stall. She'd even started kicking again, when she was feeling particularly agitated. 
Still, you made no appearance at the stable. Eddie was surprised, however, to look over the gate one evening to find Prince Carver walking swiftly through the grass. 
"Your highness." Eddie nodded, spotting the green apple in the man's hand. "Have you come to feed the horses?" 
"Certainly not." Carver scoffed, "I've come on behalf of the Princess. I find it inappropriate for her, as a lady, to be spending time in the stables. 
 I've reassured her that I'll take it upon myself to fulfill any required visits with Sugarplum." 
Eddie frowned, " Forgive me Your Highness, but I think you might be thinking of Sweetheart." 
The man scoffed, slapping the apple down in Eddie's hand before storming off.
 "Whatever the damned thing's name is." 
Eddie swallowed hard, calling after him. "Would you like me to show you how to feed her, Prince Carver?" 
The man laughed cruelly, "Heavens no. That's your job, is it not?" 
**********
"What on earth are you-! Edward Munson!" You gasped, immediately dipping over the stone ledge of your window to reach for him. He laughed, flashing you a boyish grin as he took your hand, pulling himself up and over the sill. 
Christ, you'll crack your skull one day!" You muttered, the both of you giving way to the effort and falling to the floor with a thump. 
"For the present my skull remains intact." He reassured, giving a faux bow of his head. 
You snorted, plucking dead leaves and briars from his thick dark curls. "What on earth put it in your head to climb all the way-" 
Eddie caught your hand, his eyes landing on your engagement ring. His thumb brushed over its stone as your heart sank into your belly. 
"Oh." 
Eddie studied the ring for a moment, taking in its details. There was a long silence. Finally, you spoke. 
"It's a dreadfully heavy thing." You pulled it off, placing it on your bedside table. "It catches on my gown, anyways."
A knowing smile crept to Eddie's lips. He sat in the silence for a moment before reaching into his pocket. 
A small wooden ring was produced, painted delicately along the band with tiny white flowers. He slipped it onto your marriage finger. "How's that one?"
You were breathless. "It..it's..." 
It was perfect. It was the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen, though you couldn't find the words to say so. 
Eddie's thumb brushes over the flowers, "I carved that for you when we were sixteen."
Tears welled in your eyes.
"I had it in my mind to propose to you then. The gardener stopped me when he discovered my plan." He gave a sad chuckle. A comfortable silence hung between you. Eddie took your hand, humming. "Would you have said yes?" 
"Eddie..." A tear rolled down your cheek, only to be brushed away carefully by his ever-gentle hand. You gave a sad laugh, your thumb stroking over his wrist. "You're not being fair." 
"Maybe not." He whispered, "But any man should be damned if he saw you and didn't want to keep you."
"It's cruel." Your voice wavered with emotion. "You know I've loved you since we were children...nothing can be done about it, Eddie."
"Nothing can be done about it?" Eddie gave a humorless laugh, "You're going to be Queen. Everything can be done about it." 
"What would you have me do?" Your brow furrowed. "Tell my father to end our alliance with Hawkins?"
"Yes! Hawkins only seeks to use us for our resources. Forest Hills is better off without their partnership." 
You swallowed thickly. The cicadas sang their response from the Glenside below. Again, Eddie wiped your tears. 
"Love is not something to be kept only for common folk. Your father will understand that. So will your kingdom." 
Something in you crumbled under his gaze. You drew closer, letting him envelope you in his arms. He held you for a long time, stroking your back, sweetly. 
"I spoke to your mother." He cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. Your head tilted back; eyes wide as you stared up at him. 
"Did you?" 
"Yes." His eyes were so warm and brown. You had admired them many times before this, but never quite so closely before. "I knew I was to ask for your hand...I couldn’t very well ask for your father's blessing, so I felt your mother's would be just as valuable. To us, at least."
You smiled, your forehead resting against his. "What did she say?" 
Eddie chuckled at the memory, "She pinched my cheek red. I wish you could've seen it. She cried and held my hand...told me she'd always known I would ask her one day." 
You gave a watery laugh, your fingers lacing tightly with his.
"She said she didn’t know if it was possible for me to make you mine, but that nothing would make her happier." 
There was a long silence. Eddie cradled your face, "Do you feel the same, little Princess?" Your pretty eyes fluttered at his whisper. "Do you love me the way I love you?" 
"How could you even ask?" 
Eddie chuckled, "Because I've done nothing but profess my feelings for you tonight, and now I'd like to hear you do the same." 
You chuckled, your smile fading with thought. 
"I knew...I knew I loved you about five summers ago." Eddie smiled fondly, his cheeks going pink. "We practically lived outside then...the world seemed so bright and warm and I didn't realize then that it was all because of you." You reached up, carding her fingers through his messy hair.  "The sun turned your curls golden on the edges-" 
Before you could finish your sentence, he was kissing you. He was soft and warm and strong, holding you close as you melted for one another. Eddie laughed, breathless, when you parted. "I'm afraid I win, then. I've loved you far longer than that." 
You laughed brightly as he kissed you again, working his way down your jaw to the column of your throat. "When?" You breathed, whimpering as he nipped at the crook of your neck. 
"It's hard to say." He moaned softly as you coaxed him back up to your lips, your hands lacing in his hair. "All I know is that I've never loved you more than I do right now." 
Another tear rolled down his love's cheek. He kissed it away. 
"But why these tears, now? Am I really that terrible?" 
You gave a watery laugh. "No. Not at all I...I just..." You gave a little sob. "I want to marry you. I want to be your bride and keep you always, but I can't-" 
"Marry me, then. Right now." 
You frowned, tucking a strand of his curls behind his ear. "What?" 
Eddie thumbed your ring as he caught your hand. "Do we not have a ring? A gown?" He swallows thickly, eyes darting between your night clothes and the mattress beside you.  "A marriage bed?" 
Slowly, You stood, guiding Eddie to stand before you. "We...we have to make a vow" 
"What kind of vow? I've never been to a wedding." 
You stared up at him, eyes brimming with love. "S-Something about.... For richer and for poorer. Through sickness and in health. From each sun to each moon." 
"May I write my own?" 
A tear rolled down your cheek as you nodded. 
He looked down at your hands, so soft and perfect in his rough ones. "I wish I could tell you that as my wife, you will want for nothing. I wish I could make you flowery promises about how you won't have a care in the world...but since I can't make you those promises, I'll make you the ones I can." 
He knelt before you, gazing up into your eyes. 
"I promise to you that no matter how hot the summer's day, I'll always climb to the highest branches to find you perfect, sun-spotted apples."
You giggled, a grin splitting your cheeks.
"I promise to let you spoil your horse as badly as you wish. Never again will I deprive her of a single sugar cube." 
Another giggle. Eddie kissed your knuckles.
"I promise to kiss you...often and abundantly...until you can't bear to kiss me even once more."
Eddie grinned at your blush. 
"I can't build you castles, but I promise you a home. I promise you food to eat and sturdy walls to keep you warm. I promise you children to nurse and adore." 
Eddie paused, heart fluttering.
"And I promise you love. The same love for you that I've held long since before I even knew what I was feeling." 
His voice wavers. 
"I promise that at the end of our lives, I will still feel it." 
Eddie clasped your hand with his, "So, Princess. If you'll have me...then with this ring, I thee wed." 
You repeated his words, falling to your knees to embrace him. Eddie caught you in his arms as he stood, peppering kisses to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. 
His thumb brushed your new ring, gently. "I can't tell you how it feels to see you wearing it." He gave a watery laugh. "It's been sitting on my nightstand for four years now." 
"I wish I could wear it always..." 
"Why can't you?" He pulled back to meet your eyes.
Your expression sunk, "I'm afraid I'm still scheduled to be wed tomorrow morning." 
"Oh, don't be ridiculous." He hummed. "You think I'd allow another man to marry my wife?"
"Eddie..." He scooped you up, laying you gently upon your mattress before sitting beside you. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid tomorrow." 
He chuckled as you combed through his curls with your fingers. "When have I ever been known to do stupid things?" 
"I mean it. You remember what happened the last time someone thought you were a threat to my innocence. It would kill me to see you hurt." Your fingertips grazed the scar on his temple, stiffening at the memory of his head hitting stone. 
There was a long silence as Eddie gazed at the ring. He kissed each of your fingertips slowly. "Do you trust me?" 
"More than anything." 
Eddie smiled at this, holding your hand to his heart, "Then don't worry." 
You gave a hesitant smile. Eddie cradled your body against his, gently combing through your hair. 
"We must leave tonight." He whispered. "Disappear into the woods. If we rode as far as we could on Sweetheart, it would be nearly impossible for them to find us by the time morning came. It would be difficult, but we'd be free." 
Immediately, you tensed. "Eddie, no. He could have you killed if they found us." 
"Then you'd better hold me awfully tight for as long as you can, my love." 
**********
You woke to the sound of water rushing beside you. You laid upon a bed of moss; a thick blanket tucked around you. You felt shade cover you as a figure knelt as your side. A hand on your head, pushing your bangs back lovingly. You stretched and groaned in response, not wishing to leave behind the warmth of your blanket, and kept your eyes closed.
"What a shame." Eddie cooed with a smirk, seeing right through your fib. "My little wife is simply too weak and exhausted to carry on. I suppose I must leave her behind..."
Your eyes flew open, taking his bait. "Leave her behind!?"
Eddie laughed brightly, pulling you into a smiley kiss. You were beginning to think nothing in the world felt better than kissing him.
Eddie's nose nudged against yours as he hummed passively. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
Your jaw dropped, "I do not, Eddie Munson."
He giggled, "You most certainly do, Mrs. Munson. We had a whole conversation whilst you slept."
"What about, pray tell?"
Eddie laid on his back beside her, letting her rest against his chest as he tucked his arms behind his head. "How handsome I am."
You smirked, rolling your eyes as you kissed him. The sun was warm and the cool earth beneath you felt like silk beneath your skin.
"I feel like I could do anything I wanted out here. No one could stop me."
"You could." Eddie smirked with another peck. "But I'm afraid we must keep traveling, my love. We still have a long way to go."
"How far are we going?
He tucked hair behind your ear, "So far they'll never find you. So far that it will be impossible for them to take you from me."
You nodded, curling in against him.
"And once we have finally traveled far enough..." Eddie grinned down at you. "I shall build you our cottage by the stream." 
***********
@ali-r3n
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@blindbisexualgoose
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sometimesanalice · 1 year
Text
Hey, Sailor
Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 
Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 5.8K
Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)
Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛
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Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.
He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.
He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.
The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.
There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.
But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.
Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.
His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.
Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.
Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.
He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.
How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.
And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.
Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.
And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.
At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.
Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.
You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.
You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.
The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.
From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.
He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.
From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.
And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites. 
He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.
He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.  
The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.
Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.
However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.
He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.
It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.
No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.
Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.
Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.
He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.
“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”
He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.
Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.
He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him. 
“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”
There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.
“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”
You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.
“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.
You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.
“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.
“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.
A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”
“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”
“Ok, Lieutenant.”
“Commander.”
You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.
Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.
The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.
 Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”
“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.
“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”
“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”
He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”
“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”
“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”
“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”
“You mean Bagman?”
“Yeah, that sounds right.”
He smirks to himself. 
“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”
He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.
And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.
You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.
“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”
You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.
Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.
He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.
“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”
“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”
You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 
It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.
He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.
You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”
“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”
“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.
“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”
“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.
He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.
Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.
You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them.  The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.
It’s easily his favorite tour of the day. 
He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.
Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.
Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.
So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.
And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.
Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.
Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.
And when you turn around he doesn’t step back. 
You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”
His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.
“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”
He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.” 
It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.
“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.
You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”
This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now. 
Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer. 
The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins. 
It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.
The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head. 
He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”
This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.
The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.
“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.
So he tells you. 
He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.
Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.
And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.
He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.
In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.
“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”
He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”
You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”
He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”
You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”
God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.
“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”
You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”
“Portland is the City of Roses.”
“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.
“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.
“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.
He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.
“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”
“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”
“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.
“I’m trying to,” you whine.
He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.
“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”
“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.
Your hand feels so good on him.
“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat. 
He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.
“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.
He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”
Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.
“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”
He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.
You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.
Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.
Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.
“Holy shit.”
You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.
The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.
And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.
“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.
That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.
“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”
Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.
You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.
“’s big,” you sigh shakily.
“Tell me how much you like this cock.”
He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.
“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”
He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.
The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.
How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.
“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”
“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.
“Please, Bradley. Please.”
He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.” 
He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.
“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”
“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”
He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.
The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.
He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.
Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.
“Rooster, I’m gonna-”
“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”
The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.
Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.
You’re so perfect for him.
He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.
And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.
He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table. 
He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.
You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.
Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.
“I see you found your gift early, baby.”
Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.
He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.
Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.
While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.
And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.
It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.
“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”
He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.
“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.
“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”
You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 
He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”
“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”
“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.
“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”
He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.
“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.
The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.
He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.
When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 
“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.
The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.
“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”
Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.
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Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!
Thank you for reading!
Hey, Sailor Moodboard
A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two
If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three
You can check out my other stories and series here!
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@gretagerwigsmuse​ @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes​
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salaciousdoll · 8 months
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꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷
•┈୨Chapter I୧┈•
•┈୨please be advised to the warning before continuing୧┈•: first part is memory from childhood and high school, second is college au, hyper-feminine!reader, Bimbo/ditzy reader, chubby and black reader in mind, Fem reader, angst, sexual things implied, Strict Levi for a reason, strict Nanami, reader gets into a lot on her first day, false reality of boarding school on purpose, Private College au!, DARK CONTENT, Reader daddy issues is high in this chapter, reader hates her father and some parts of her mother, divorced parents, people around reader doing drugs to ease their pain/ ed in your past, self indulgent, the professors are pervs and so is the reader, taboo, professor Choso getting head but not from a student unlike the mention of Gojo getting head from a student, reader walking in on him, can you all guess who’s your first class teacher is( hint is the next chapter), reader is hyper sexual, masturbation mentioned, Art professor!Choso, Statistics professor!Nanami, Sociology professor!Levi, Maki and Mikasa are friends because I said so, sasha, todo, and Connie are friends( Jean too), Eren is sneaky/ smooth, let me know what I miss. Wc: 7k
゚•┈୨ Song for this Chapter୧┈•゚。: Boarding School- Lana Del Rey
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from salaciousdoll: I hope you all have fun reading this and just know this is the beginning and it’s only going to get more worst and better at the same time.
Masterlist taglist next chapter
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Four years ago, you were in boarding school, the worst boarding school but the richest one in your city. You were with nothing but snotty kids who lived off their friends' applauses and family’s money inheritance. It was fun but traumatizing. You hated your dad for sending you there all because you did, in his words, the unforgivable. It was nothing except just breaking into the Base stadium where concerts, big football and baseball games were held for your city teams. Teams that weren’t that good in your opinion, but you don’t know shit about sports to give an opinion about it.
Boarding school was an experience no teenager should experience unless they can’t function at a public high school or just plain crazy. You hated how you couldn’t wear anything you wanted, hated the ugly and stupid uniform— wanting to puke every time you saw the bad blue-green combo plaid skirt, which was long and that definitely wasn't to your taste. You hated the kids turning their nose and mouths up at you whenever you passed by all because you were rich with a different skin complexion than they had, a combo they acted like is out of this world. You missed your friends, the fun life you had, and the parties they used to throw— now you can’t do any of that. Bummer!
This school was filled with girls who slept with each other boyfriends, boys who prey on their next victim for who knows what, and finally the teachers having affairs with other teachers. Fucking horrible. If you said last year that the dad who loved you before the age of 5 would send you to a school like this— you would laugh. Laugh real hard because you’ll wonder where the hate comes from. Your dad loved you when you were the ages before 5. Then at 17? Now in your 20s? Not so much.
You could guess it started when he started seeing other women in the open relationship your parents decided to have. Ever since that agreement he has acted as if you don’t exist, only gives you money and when he does, it’s through your mother. If you needed cash, she’d hand it to you from his hands. If you need his black card money then he’ll send the money to her card, Cash App, Zelle, PayPal, etc.
The day you saw your father give his love that was supposed to be for you to another woman’s daughter everything cracked around you like the world was made of glass. Everything was made of glass around you and on that day, the glass burst and cracked around you with a domino effect to it— starting with your glass heart. You were 17 seeing your father smile and laugh with another teenage girl. A girl who had different everything to you, you pieced together that this was his ideal daughter. The daughter he always wanted, the graceful daughter, goody two-shoes daughter, the daughter who just looks so much more professional and classy than you. Feeling a warm pool build up in your eyes was enough for you to hate him and her, hell the entire family.
You thought that going over to him and saying his assigned name since your birth would make him realize that he’s done you wrong. Oh how wrong you were, the feeling of betrayal and hurt was around you four as you stared your father in the eyes with a vicious glare— matching his energy. It almost looks like he wanted to kill you because of you calling his name like that. He was with the family he always wanted and yet here you were. A disgrace to his reputation. Madness was lurking over his shoulder as you kept calling him “ dad”. After the tenth “ dad” he snapped— yanking your arm to drag you away. After finally getting away from their ear shot he angrily stated the words of “ What did I do to you and your mother to deserve unhappiness.” He gripped your arm even more harshly through rough, hot tears. “ You two make me sick. She makes me sick.”
Your father dropped your arm like he was touching a garbage truck full of garbage. He looked you in your beady tear-filled eyes. “ You.” The pause after that was long and flowing through the summer breeze. You wanted it to stay long because the next words that utter out of his mouth broke you mentally and emotionally. “ You make me sick. Hate how I’ve grown to hate my own daughter, my only daughter but you caused this. Your mother caused this. I’m not happy.” The repetition of the last sentence through his broken voice was enough for you to walk away from the crying man-child of a father you once knew. You remember walking past the same teenager with her mother laughing and smiling as they showed each other videos on their phones. Shit! the longer you look the more you see what he’s talking about. Because they’re happy and healthy, they make him feel happy and healthy as well.
That moment was the moment you started to get into more trouble. Throwing parties on boarding school campuses, watching the girls and boys do drugs with a spoon and lighter to stop their food cravings knowing full and well their anger for themselves were going to eventually come back on you since they didn’t want to be “huge like you”, watching student and teachers do coke lines to past by time of torture, watching the senior boys chase after the younger classes, you were included multiple times— turned down every last one of them with a quickness. You wanted your teacher. Too bad he left before you tried to seduce him. Afterwards, You started watching the teachers fuck in the spots they never knew you knew of— enjoying it a little too much as your hand traveled south as you watched. You wanted attention to thrive off, so you made a value to yourself on becoming the popular girl of your city boarding school. Man did you have the time of your life there— in misery and gold.
You thought that going to a 4- year public university was great for you. It was, for the first two years. You were glad that you could start over there because nobody knew of the boarding school you mentioned when they asked about your old life. A clean slate was good for you especially in a college as big as this one. The classes were more big and diverse than any school you went to. You were so glad that you picked this Marley tech university because you got more friends with different ethnic backgrounds and the same ethnic backgrounds as you. You didn’t stick out like a pretty pink thumb, you fit more in where you were. Taking classes with all of your friends and getting into the fashion designing major you promised yourself to take when you were in high school was everything you wanted.
It was suddenly swept away from you like a tablecloth with dishes stacked on top of it accompanied by the angry couple arguing about who’s in the wrong. Your mother was to blame. She wanted you close to her because you're the last person she had as family since your dad divorced her and completely cut her off for the same woman you saw with the girl that brought your father happiness. After he did that, you cut off anything concerning him— using your mother’s money and sugar daddies you met online or out with friends to get you by in school. You hated working for yourself because doing anything that chipped your nails was annoying and honestly jobs are overrated, you wished that the world was free.
You didn’t even know how your father was living and honestly you hoped he perished alone and alone only. He hurt you but hurt your mother even worse. She now had stress building up and the fear of abandonment is heightened more than ever so that’s why you had no choice but to agree with her sending you to the Private college near her so she feels more comfortable. No worrying, no stress but what about your happiness? Are you ever going to get that? Happiness shouldn’t be hard to achieve and sadness shouldn’t be easy to achieve either.
You thought back to your childhood and recent decisions— soon feeling your eyes get glossy. You hurried and fanned yourself to stop the tears running down your face in your pink hello kitty mirror you held in your hands. Muttering to yourself as you close your hand mirror with a snap, “ Can’t afford to look like a Billie Elilish single on my first day at this rich ass private school.” Your driver gave you a nod in the mirror when you locked eyes with him, “ You look amazing, little l/n. Have an amazing first day back and at a new school. Do you want me to pick you up or bring your car to park it in the parking lot, ready for you after classes?” You were so glad for Timothy, your father's maid/ business partner. He always looked after you like your father should have. You were forever grateful for this kind man.
You rubbed your glossy lips together, releasing them with a satisfying pop, “ Just bring my car, Tim. I will try to have a good day today and tell my mother to take an ibuprofen for her headache. She was worrying too much about my first day of school and boom, a headache.”
Tim smiled at you and nodded his head to your task you assigned him to do. He watched you get out of the car and stare at the school in front of you. The school wasn’t big, it just looked old money looking. What a bummer! As you walked past the entrance gate with your light-pink Medusa Versace heels and pretty white leg warmers covering the top straps of your heels. Your outfit was fall ready just in pink. The more you walked in, the more you wanted to turn back to your freedom, your happiness, your peace, meaning wanting to go back to your other college. This was even worse than boarding and public school because nobody dressed like you. They all were dark and neutral colors like ewww, “ don’t they have a sense of fashion anywhere here?” You hadn’t realized you muttered that out loud until you heard a gasp next to you.
Locking eyes with brown eyes startled you as you dropped some of your books on the ground. The person laughed and held up a hand to stop you from picking up your books, “ I got it, didn’t know you were clumsy.” When he got up you just now noticed his pink hair sprouting out on top of his head, “ I’m Yuji itad-”. A voice interrupted his introduction, a bone crushing interruption really, you came to that conclusion from the side hug the white haired man gave him , “ Itadori, you know you’re not supposed to be on this side of the campus.” His deep voice has a sing-song tone to it as he stared at the side of the boy’s face with black shades on his head and a pencil behind his ear. “ I should write you up, but I don’t feel like following the rules just now, keep this between us. I, also, know Fushiguro is here to get the house keys from his lousy father, so it’s best you go now. Feeling generous enough to let you go. I’ll even pretend you weren’t here and let you leave in 10..9..8”
Once he stopped counting you realized that this must be a rule at this college for underclassmen to not be on the same campus as the upperclassmen and you also realized that the boy named Itadori didn’t let him get to 7 before speeding off to walk to a spiky dark-haired boy who was walking ahead ignoring the two conversation just a minute ago. You were about to walk until he spoke again, “ You must be the new student, { reader}, what a beau- beautiful view here at this school. You would enjoy the views from classrooms. My name is professor Gojo, it’s gonna be an interesting year for you so hope you make the best of it… I’ll take you to the head of the school’s office to let you get situated. You should’ve enrolled in your classes over this summer, so all you need to do is to get your books you need and all that other school stuff you kids need now- a- days.”
You tilted your head at what he was trying to say in his first sentence and raised an eyebrow at his explanation and from what you see and hear as a first impression— he seems laid back, the laid back teacher or coach you always fall head first for so you’re gonna stay away from him and pray you don’t have a class with him.
The entire walk to the principal office was annoying and nerve wrecking. Nerve wracking because he was so tall, handsome, and down to earth. Granted you weren’t short but damn he had to be about 6’6 or something. Then he’s talking to all the students and teachers you both passed by, the same students and teachers watched you two walk past with curious eyes wondering who’s the new girl with their favorite coach. The key reason they knew you were new is because this is a private school where everyone knew everyone’s face even the teachers knew who everyone was by name and face. They had two campuses though, one for underclassmen and one for the upperclassmen, that’s all you paid attention to as you now stood in front of a black wooden door with a big glass to let you see inside of the organized office.
You were genuinely confused that they even had a head office at this school because that’s not normal in public colleges, you barely even saw the head of the school, so this is another thing that’s different. Coach Gojo knocked on the door before placing his large veined hand on the door from behind your frame since he was standing behind you, you didn’t realize he was this close since you were inside of La La land in your head, so in response, goosebumps formed on your skin and you tried to be subliminal with your shiver, but he noticed and almost wanted to let out a low chuckle. The head of the school answered the door with a low, “ Satoru, what now? A kid walked out of your lesson again because of the jo-” he stopped his sentence once he saw your pretty eyes staring at him in curiosity of what he was about to say. There was a story behind your eyes and he could tell off first glance in them.
He then looked back at Gojo, who was now wearing a smug smirk on his face because he knew Yaga was captured by your unique aura. He was going to figure you out in a week like he always does his student. On the other hand, Gojo was now standing on the side of you— his eyes didn’t mean to travel down, but the pink off-shoulder knitted cardigan was outlining your chest perfectly and your thighs were perfect with that skirt you had on. He cleared his throat with a hand swiping over his face because he shouldn’t be looking at another student like that when he already had one in his coaching office, just previously giving him head before she had to go to his psychology class. This college was great for academics but fucked up for morals, you’ll soon find out.
“ Yes please wait here and I’ll give you the things you need while I show you around the school. I got it from here Satoru.”, Yaga says, still not taking his eyes off you but you didn’t know it. He had on dark ass sunglasses so who would see how much he’s staring at you.
Gojo clicked his tongue and held up his finger, “ You can’t because Yeager is on his way to give her the school tour after their first class together.” Yaga wanted to strangle him from his facial expression alone because he truly wanted to know why he was so smug right now. Yaga nodded before allowing you to pass through by stepping aside, “ Come in and I’ll speak with you about the rules and such before he gets here.” You were definitely in for a long time here because the rules were long and boring. This was not at all like a public university because you could do anything just don’t let the RA catch you. Here at Kaizen Maria, you could be caught with a snap of a finger because it’s a small school and not too many people disobey the rules oddly enough. You tried to follow along after he mentioned no parties on campus, but it’s like once you heard that you zoned out because what the hell can you do now.
The Head of the school cleared his throat, “ Repeat the last thi-” you were so glad he was interrupted by a loud knock. He answered it with a come in and a tall brunette with long brown hair in the middle part and emerald-jade eyes walked in. The muscles in his arms stuck out to you so much because all he did was reach to close the door behind himself. He had a lean body and boy was he eye candy but not what you needed, just what you wanted. “ Sir. I was sent here by Mr. Ackerman to guide her to his class.”
Yaga sighed and motioned to you sitting there with your arms holding onto your pink notebooks and binder tightly with one pink led pencil and pen with pink furry ball in your hand, “ We’re all down here so if you will kindly get her to his class on time, she already missed her first class by being here with me.” Eren eyed you with something you could not place or far too dumb to place.
He held out his hand and you thought it was for your hand, so you latched your hand on top of his. He chuckled prior to shaking his head no, “ Your books, let me carry them for you while I guide you through the school on the way to class.” You let out a small laugh whilst handing him your books, “ I apologize then. Lead the way—”
He could tell you were trying to figure out what his name was from the way your eyes squinted, “ Eren. Just call me Eren.” You nodded as you two ventured out the building, walking to the building across from it. Sociology in the morning should be a sin, yet you’ll digress.
You two walked in silence until he spoke up, “ how do you like it here so far and you are really beautiful and your outfit is very cute but you’re a bit overdressed.” He ended his sentence with a light chuckle. You smiled at him, “ Didn’t even know everyone dressed so damn boring but thank you, Eren.” As you two continued to walk, you looked around to see bulletin boards filled with tryouts for sports or clubs. Looked around to see some students still walking to class. Not noticing how wide Eren eyes got after writing something with your pen. You didn’t see him do it because you were too busy looking around.
His mouth opened and closed because he was so surprised to hear you insult him and everyone else at the school; at the same time it was funny to him because you’re right. “ I wouldn’t say that in front of everyone else if I was you, wouldn’t want to piss off people on your first day, wouldn’t ya’?” You nodded your head and pointed your pink manicured finger at him in a “ You’re right” way as you two made it to the little classroom your sociology class was at. You watched Eren open up the door for you to walk in and when you did you were surprised to see that the class already started causing your anxiety to spike through the building.
“ Glad to see you finally made it, Yeager and- who are you?”, A deep voice says on your side. Once your head turned, you lowered your eyes to a short man standing near the podium. He had a short cut parted in the middle, clear subscription glasses on his head, and a black tailored suit with the suit jacket long gone— now he was in a white button up shirt that hugged his medium size chest. Your eyes traveled up and down his body without knowing that he was waiting on you to answer his question. He’s gonna have fun disciplining you.
“ Hey! I asked you a question, so I expect an answer. Who are you?”, the man repeated with anger in his voice. You jumped and cleared your voice, “ My name is y/n l/n, professor—” You looked down at your paper where his name was and looked back at him with a big smile on your face, “ Ackerman.” Levi stared at you longer than he planned because of the way your tits bounced when you rocked your body back and forth due to anxiety creeping up your back the longer the silence and stares got.
Levi pointed to the seat in the middle of two pretty girls, “ Sit there and be quiet, you interrupt you’re staying after for 10 minutes and I don’t give a damn about how late you are to whatever you do after class. Understood brat?.” You frowned while nodding your head at that because is that even allowed? What if you have something urgent to get to? I guess he just said fuck your plans. You then turned to walk your way to your seat with eyes watching you all over. Once you got to the row the two women were at, you whispered a low “excuse me” as you squeezed past the one with green eyes and short hair in a pixie cut.
When you finally sat down you noticed that both of them had their hair in a pixie cut hairstyle, just one with gray eyes and one with green eyes and glasses around her eyes. Both looked at you as you sat your pink water bottle covered in strawberry shortcake or hello kitty stickers sitting next to your pink notebooks and pens.
Mikasa stared at the side of your head as your eyes focused on Levi teaching the class about racial injustices and other things concerning sociology. You paid attention to the way he spoke with his clean little hands and the way he gutted into someone who’s not paying attention. Maki tapped your shoulder, “ Hey, I’m Maki, that one on the other side is Mikasa, she doesn’t talk much because she’s too afraid of professor Ackerman.”
You raised your eyebrow and turned to look at Mikasa who had a resting bitch face. You were about to speak to her but she spoke before you, “ Don’t listen to her if you know what’s good for you. Nobody is scared of the tiny elf of a man, if anything I want to step on him for assigning this much work for us.” You giggled and in reality of that it made them smile and caused the lecturing to stop, “ Let’s hear the joke, you three. Make us all laugh since you shitheads decided to interrupt my lecture…”
You three looked at each other prior to looking back at him, you spoke up instead, “ Sir, we weren’t laughing, just introducing ourselves that’s all. So sorry for the interruption, please don’t let us stay after for 10 minutes.” Levi scoffed, “ Did I say I was going to make you all stay, just for that, you’ll be the only one staying. Now interrupt my lesson again and I’ll make sure you all are banned from my class the rest of the week.” The gasp that left your mouth was loud and you thought that Levi was about to fault you for that, but he stated back teaching again.
You sat back in your seat with your arms crossed the entire lesson. You hated this class and wanted out. Didn’t have any motivation to pay attention because of his words. You were supposed to write stuff down— and you didn’t because you were highly upset. Once you have an attitude you didn’t have the energy to pull through anything. You hated that feeling and it was all because of that short old man.
Once class finished, students listened to what he had to say and you didn’t. “ read and annotate the syllabus carefully, I will be quizzing you all on that particular syllabus. Friendly reminder to read and annotate your sociology text book you were supposed to buy before stepping foot in my class. If you don’t have one, then I suggest you get one because I will be asking questions on that as well. Class is dismissed. Go be shitheads somewhere else.” Levi then stared at you staring off into space, he turned before a small smirk was plastered on his face, “ {reader}, get down here and explain why you were interrupting my class.”
You almost wanted to stomp your heels, almost. In reality, you quietly gathered your stuff and seen two sticky notes on your binder. One with notes and one with names/phone numbers from Maki and Mikasa. You will have to thank them after class, this was so nice of them. As you made your way to him another teacher into the door, two actually. One with square glasses and a bright smile on their face and one with hair covering his eyes and a goatee that suited his face. “ Leviiiiiii, guess what?”, The person with the glasses yelled out as they strolled to his desk.
He didn’t even flinch at how loud they were because his eyes stayed on you the entire time and because he’s used to them. You, however, was someone could see right through and needed to know more about you. He’s seen your last name somewhere but where. He didn’t even notice that four eyes and beanpole stopped talking to him and watched you along side of him walk down the stairs carefully.
Hange hurried to you and held out their hands, “ Hello, you must be the new kid we were alerted about, it’s nice to meet you, I’m professor Zoe, your biology professor and this hunk over here is Professor Zacharias, the anthropology professor.” She held your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world, caressing the top of your hand as she held it. Strange behavior for a professor but you’re willing to push past it because they were fine as hell. Three fine people and they were your superiors, oh how you will love it here.
Miche had his eyes trained on you and so did Levi. Miche was taken back by your beauty, so when he grunted with a nod of his head when Hange introduce him, he couldn’t find the words so that was the last option. You were on cloud nine when you heard the gruffness of his grunt. You needed to pull it out of him when you are riding him.
Levi hit his hand on the table disrupting you staring back and forth between Hange and Miche, “ Hey! You didn’t explain and I don’t like waiting, so tell me what I want to know.” You huffed and held onto your books even tighter to your chest, ultimately pulling your boobs up even more causing Miche to turn and fix his pants, Levi was so glad that he wasn’t easily turned on like Miche and Erwin, who’s not here because of his class going on right now.
“ I didn’t even interrupt the class, I just wanted to clarify that we weren’t laughing because of your lecture, we were laughing because of our names and the way we introduced each other.”, You say while taking out a pink lollipop and putting it in your mouth. Could you be anymore seductive? Fuck. Levi scoffed and rounded the corner to sit on the edge of his desk with a come here motion of his finger. You were confused as you came near until he snatched your sucker out your mouth— your saliva detaching from your mouth and the sucker. Following after that, he grabbed a napkin and placed the sucker on the napkin, “ No eating in my class, second rule in the syllabus. Reasons why you and the rest of your class of heathens need to read them carefully. If I catch you eating in my class again, you’re banned for two weeks— only learning virtually. Do I make myself clear?”
You wanted to cry because why is he so uptight and how will you deal with the fact that you lost your last strawberry kiwi sucker, “ Yes sir. I understand.” Your eyes watered causing him to curse under his breathe. You hated how sensitive you were and your dad was to blame. You hated when men yelled at or scold you and anyone for that matter because you’re not yelling at them, so why are they yelling at you.
He was about to speak when you’re 10 minute alarm went off. You hurried and turned it off, “ Set it for ten minutes so that means I have to get to my next class in five minutes so please let me leave Mr.Ackerman.” He waved his hand as a dismissing motion and you hurried and walked past miche getting a swift of his cologne, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you took in his smell.
As you finally got out the door, they all looked at your sucker before Levi picked it up and gave it to Miche. Hange gasp, “ Him?!! Out of us two, him?!” Levi ignored her and turned his back to them to erase his writings on the board whilst Miche was smirking with your sucker in his mouth. Truth be told, your taste along with the taste of the sucker was everything to him. He’s going to talk to Erwin and Nile about this. On the other hand, levi wanted the sucker for himself, but he saw how miche and Hange was eyeing it. He was originally gonna give it to Hange— only if they would’ve never interrupted his time with you then he wouldn’t have given it to Miche.
You, on the other hand, was rushing to your next class passing by catcalls and shouts, you paid no attention until you were in the building, climbing up the stairs to your next class, statistics 116. You didn’t even pay attention to where you was walking and bump into a muscular back. Shaking your head to get rid of your dizziness creeping up your body to your head, you heard a voice talking to you.
“ Are you alright, bumped into me pretty hard. Surprise you didn’t fall.”, The deep voice said as he handed you your pencil that fell. You looked up and caught the eyes of sea blue and you were so mesmerized by them. He had blonde hair covering his forehead and a pretty smile on his face as he eyed you.
You cleared your throat and smiled at him, “ Yes, so sorry about that, I’m such a Clutz.” You blinked your eyelashes and smirked at him. You watched in satisfaction as his face grew red as the blood in your body. He could’ve been easy, but you didn’t like boys your age. So when your hand touched his as he gave your pen back, you held eye contact with him until it was interrupted by people making kissing noises.
You turned to the sound to see two people hugging themselves and making kissing noises with one guy standing there with a smirk on his faceand his arms crossed. One was a girl with brown hair, one with a gray buzz cut, and the other one with a tied up ponytail and a beauty mark on his eye enhancing his prettiness.
Armin was like a turtle to you, cute and shy. He waved his arms around and told them to stop in a whiny voice and it made you giggle because in your mind he was the perfect sub if you were a Dom. After some more taunting, the buff guy in a black tee introduced himself, “ I’m Aoi Todo, but you can call me whatever you want.” He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, planting a supple kiss on your soft hand. You smiled and introduced yourself to all of them. The other two named Sasha and Connie were a funny duo to be around. They loved cracking jokes, one of them even said you reminded them of a Sanrio character and they were gonna call you that from now on. You didn’t mind, it just means new friends.
You looked at the time as they all talked amongst each other and let out a gasp, “ I’m late. Real late.” Saying bye to them and walking two doors down was something out of a comedy movie especially when they followed you— whispering amount each other as they watched you walk. You were about to touch the door when your hand got a tiny slap on it from Todo. You raised your eyebrow before seeing him open up the door for you to walk in and as you did, you blew him a kiss— catching it with his hand over his heart with a red hue coloring across his nose was his response to your actions.
Nanami stopped teaching and looked at the group of people who walked in, “ You’re late. I somehow expected this from those three but you, Armin, I’m disappointed but glad you can make it. Please take a seat.” It’s like you wasn’t there for a second when he was scolding everyone else. When he looked over at you, he paused and caught himself by clearing his throat, “ And you must be the new student, { reader}, it’s a pleasure to have you but I must warn you about being late to my class. Take this syllabus and have a seat.” He pointed to the first row chair that was positioned in front of his desk.
His deep voice was going straight to your pussy and you couldn’t help it especially the way his cuffs on his shirt was rolled and the way his glasses sat on his face and the veins lacing his arms. Once you got closer to him to take the syllabus, you got hit with a whiff of his cologne and whisky type scent— your eyes closed in bliss prior to taking it out his hands and sitting down away from Armin and everyone else that you just met.
You wondered how the teachers knew their names and their personalities already if it’s the first day of school. It was weird because normally professors have a hard time remembering names, you’ll have to ask Armin or Eren after this, if you see them.
All throughout class the guy and girl sitting next to you was trying hard to focus on what professor Nanami was talking about, but they couldn’t stop sharing glances with each other, ultimately speaking with their eyes. Reiner was way louder with his thoughts then Annie was. Annie stared at the side of your head until you looked over at her and smiled. She thought your smile was beautiful and unique because not too many people around her even smile or smile at her period. It was throwing her in a loop, meanwhile Reiner was trying to get your attention by putting his arm on the back of your chair.
You would’ve noticed the gesture if you weren’t paying attention to your teacher explaining the difference to proportions with anticipating patterns. You barely managed to understand anything he was saying because the way that he looked back at the students whenever he wrote anything on the board was everything to you. His eyes were so beautiful to you— only could tell because his glasses were off his eyes and placed on his desk, giving you full access to his eyes whenever he turned and asked a question to students he thought weren't watching or listening. You had a small fear that he would be the teacher to pick on you and a part of you wouldn’t mind. Just don’t yell.
The way his hair giggled in the nonexistent wind as he wrote on the green board was beautiful to you. The golden hair that parted in the middle and the cheekbones pulled you in completely. He was a beauty and you needed him. He was magnetic in a way, you couldn’t stop staring at him and him only. He pulled you in and he may be the first crush at this school for you.
You were too caught up in your ditzy thoughts that you didn’t hear him dismiss the class. You were surprised at how long you were daydreaming and he didn’t notice. You thought you were Scott-free because you didn’t get called on or caught so you gathered your things and made your way past his desk he was sitting at. The way your last name rolled off his tongue shocked and aroused you. His voice was so deep and soothing, “ Miss {reader’s last name}, I can’t help you pass this class if you’re not focusing on the lessons. I know you’re new here so I’m gonna give you a pass, please don’t let it happen again.”
You took a deep gulp of your saliva and nodded your head, “ I understand sir, please forgive me.” He nodded his head and picked up a stack of paper with a sticky note on top of it. “ Please take this to Mr. Kamo. Tell him it’s very important from Mr.Gojo.” The grunt sigh he let out at professor Gojo's name was comical to you because you sense that he’s either annoyed by him or just doesn't like him. You had a feeling it was the first one especially from the way he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
You slowly took the paper out of his hand and then bid him goodbye with a big smile on your face. Your big cheeks was heating up at the thought of his hand brushing against yours, sadly it didn’t— this time. You had no idea who Mr.Kamo was, so you asked around until a timid guy with black hair sprouting along his forehead gave you the directions and building he was in. Even gave you the room number too. After that encounter, you heard that his name was Yuta from his classmate calling him.
The walk to the art lecture hall was long because it was a block away. During that walk, you had your headphones in listening to your alternative playlist and you were loving the breeze on your face as you walked in your heels proudly. Your eyes wandered around you and you spotted a man in a suit with his hair in a half up and half down style— long hair flowing and a bun on his head. He was a gorgeous man walking out of the gym with a bag in his hand. His eyes were looking down to his phone and when he looked up they locked in on you immediately. You realized that he was staring right at you when you were walking past him. He couldn’t be a student, so he was a teacher but what teacher? If you didn’t have that class now in the fall, you’ll have it in the spring.
You thought if you locked eyes with him even longer than you did, you'd have to jump his bones, so when you passed him you averted your eyes to the building next to the gym about two spaces down. That was the building you had to go to and man was it big. You walked to the front door and were about to open it when a teacher- no security guard opened the door for you with a tight lip smirk on his face, “ Welcome, sweetheart.” His voice was fucking deep and soft at the same time, you didn’t even know that was possible but for the scar lip man, it was. You smiled at him and said thank you before walking off with your head filled with the scent of his cologne. He was a beautiful man with green eyes and black hair that dropped down his eyes— buff too. Strong enough to pick you up, so you are definitely counting on seeing him again.
When you finally got to the floor, you walked to the room number and softly knocked on the door. After a few seconds, there was no answer. You were about to leave it on the floor, but you decided to twist the knob instead and leave it on the desk. As soon as you opened the door, you heard soft moans and dick sucking noises from the back of the classroom. You hope they didn’t notice you, but he noticed you as soon as you opened the door. His low and hungry eyes were placed on you as the woman he told to come to his class was giving him head.
You tried so desperately to not get wet at the sounds of his low moans and whines she pulled from him when her mouth was working his cock like it was her last and final drink. The slurping got louder as you walked to the desk with your one headphone piece in and the other one out. You were so glad they could possibly see the right headphone piece in your ear, would save you more from embarrassment. You set the papers on the desk in the dark room with only the projector still on and made your way out the door until you heard a deep voice say thank you. You stopped and turned to him like a dumbass knowing what he was doing.
Your voice came out calm and collected, “ You’re very welcome, sir. Have a nice day.” You smiled prior to power walking out of the classroom and building. You didn’t know who he was getting head from and you should’ve had a different reaction but this school looked fishy as soon as you stepped on the lawn and plus the false advertisement the website has is enough to make anyone turn it down but you and your mother were too dumb and naive to realize, your mother just wanted you near her. Though you couldn’t see Mr.Kamo face properly, yet you knew he was fine just from his moans and voice. On your way to your car to go home, you noticed a small sticker with a phone number on it and Eren’s name on top of it. You were surprised to see it because when the hell did he have time to do this. You most likely wasn’t paying attention when he did it because you were too busy looking around the school when you two walked to your first, well second class today. You did not like calling men first but you’ll excuse this because you had a feeling you were going to love that call. Just like you are going to love this school.
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Tagging: @chosoist @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @emomanswhore @neesieiumz @simpingfor-wakasa @nutheadgeenat @honeybleed @angelshub
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゚•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.
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rogueddie · 4 months
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Never- unless it's with you T | 696 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is being seen and known
Steve hates how bright it gets, how much it irritates his eyes, how it has always made his skin crawl with discomfort. He especially hates how weird people look at him when he tries to wear his sunglasses inside, or in the colder months.
But it's so bright. The sun always finds a way to shine in his eyes, but lightbulbs aren't any better. The sharp blue lights are like knives sticking into his eyes and the warmer yellow lights, though better, quickly build into an uncomfortable pressure.
Robin is the first to pick up on his 'issue'. She makes sure to keep the lights off, even buys candles and fairy lights with dull, soft lights.
If he's having a worse day, the lights getting so bright that sound starts to overwhelm him, she drags him home with her so they can crawl under her bed and relax.
He feels more than lucky to have that much. Having Robin in his corner is not only enough, it's a blessing.
So, when Eddie starts to do little things to help, he feels like he's going to explode.
"I don't see how it's different," Robin says.
"Because it is! He's so- and you're not- but- I'm... fuck!" Steve flops onto his bed, next to Robin, pressing both hands over his eyes. "I don't even know if it's good or not."
"Have you tried, I don't know, talking to him?"
"And how do you think that will go? I want him to like me, not think I'm weird."
"You're not that weird and- well, even if you are, he's weird! He likes weird people and even weirder things! That's his whole schtick!"
"But what if he looks for something different in partners? Like... something more relatable?"
"We are still talking about Eddie, right?"
"Shut up."
"Seriously, Steve, think. You've been on, what, four dates now, right? Do you really think he cares if you're a little weird?"
He doesn't answer her. They both know that Eddie wouldn't care, and Steve doesn't have the words to explain why its different yet.
But, as always, Robin is right.
It takes him a month to slowly realize that, not only is she right that Eddie wouldn't care if he knew, he already does.
Steve had started to pay attention to little things Eddie does so he would know what to expect if he were to start opening up about the weirder things about him.
But instead he found himself noticing how much Eddie already goes out of his way to make Steve comfortable.
It's like he has a sixth sense for Steve's moods.
He doesn't even need to do more than greet Steve to know when it's a quiet day, barely stuttering over his plans- ones that, now that he's looking, Steve can tell are last minute changes.
He always seems to know when Steve needs to be touched, or when the idea of certain things touching him makes his skin crawl.
He always waits until they're settled before bringing up things like his guitar- deflating slightly on days when it would be too much, when he's realized that and subsequently doesn't bother asking.
He uses one of the fridge drawers specifically for food that Steve finds comforting, and has little stickers on food with textures he hates.
He has a specific mug that only Steve uses now, that is always made at a specific time, no matter what, so there's always something consistent and routine for him to latch onto.
Eddie already knows him, Steve realizes.
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Steve manages to say, choking on the affection bubbling in his chest.
"Mm, not nearly enough," Eddie whispers, smiling softly. "But it's ok. I know you love me as much as I love you."
"I do, I really do. You're amazing, Ed. I love you so much."
"What's brought this on, sweetheart?"
"I just... you see me."
"I do. It's why I love you so much. There's so much to you that... I don't know, I could do this forever. Just- learning all the little things that make you tick. That's my happy ever after."
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beansprean · 2 years
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My fav thing about the classic flowershop / tattoo parlor au is assigning the objectively wrong roles for no reason other than my own enjoyment. ID under cut!
[ID: 1. Full body of a modern flowershop / tattoo parlor au with Stede and Ed. They are standing together in the wall space between their shops, meeting for the first time. Stede’s shop on the left says “tattoo” in large red letters on the window as well as a sign with their hours. Inside there is a small piercing display. Ed’s shop on the right has “flowers” in blue lettering on the window as well as the beginnings of a phone number with area code 246. Inside there is a tiered display of various types of flowers including sunflowers, roses, lilies, and carnations. Stede has three studs in his ear and snake bite hoops in his lip and is wearing a dark gray blouse with frilly sleeves, a purple waistcoat with silver detailings, a silver pocket square, a cravat pinned with a large purple jewel, and black trousers. He has several rings on each hand and black nails and is holding a cardboard box labeled “gauges.” He turns with pleasant surprise to look at Ed, smiles, and says “Oh!! Hello!” Ed, on a smoke break, just stares at him with pink-cheeked surprise in response. He has his long hair up in a bun and is wearing blue jeans and a pink tee shirt over a pale green apron with “Queen Anne’s” stitched on the breast. In his left hand is a lit cigarette, and the right is in his apron pocket fumbling with a red cloth. All his usual tattoos (save for the eagle on his chest and the marae on his wrist) are now floral designs, including a long leafy vine winding down his right arm, several pink carnations and falling petals, palm leaves on his left bicep, and a patch of sunflowers on his left shoulder and neck.
2. A new day, Stede now in a blue waistcoat with embroidered fleur-de-lis and light blue blouse and cravat and Ed with his hair half up in a bun, wearing a red tee shirt, apron, and brown gardening gloves. Stede is leaning toward him looking excited, declaring, “Lilac?? I would love to design that for you!” Ed, leaning back and looking flustered as he blushes and avoids eye contact, flexes his hands at his side and laughs nervously. “Uh, haha, really? Idk if my artist would like that.” To the side, we see a small drawing of a sullen Izzy with large gauges and a vee neck shirt, holding a buzzing tattoo pen. Text next to him in parentheses reads “current artist.”
3a. The same day; Ed sitting on a tattoo chair with his left arm extended while Stede, wearing nitrile gloves, doodles a lilac branch onto the blank spot on his forearm with a tattoo pen. Ed, staring at Stede shyly but warmly from the corner of his eye, offers a small smile and says, “You’re always so covered up, I’ve never even seen any of your tattoos.” Stede, smiling absently as he works on Ed’s tattoo, responds, “Oh! I don’t have any.”
3b. Ed whips his head toward Stede in shock, forgetting his shy attempt at flirting in favor of gaping openly at him. Stede, none the wiser, continues to draw and hum to himself.
3c. Close up of Ed’s face from the previous panel zoomed in, hearts popping up in his eyes and cheeks going a dark red. Text next to him reads “you are so fucking fascinating”
/end ID]
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louloulemons-posts · 10 months
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Jealousy
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
Summary : Eddie likes you, but you’re with Harrington, right?
Word Count : 1.9k
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Warnings : Not Proofread, fluff, stoners, use of weed and alcohol, the stranger things teens actually acting like teens lol, swears, cuteness, ft Nancy, Robin, Jonathan and Steve, jealous eds this was wrote a 3am so the spelling is probably atrocious.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“Every time I tell you to bring a jacket and every time you’re like, ‘No Steve I won’t get cold’,” he spoke, mocking you as he did.
“I’m not cold, you’re the one freaking out!”
“You have goosebumps, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he said, throwing his blue jacket at your head. Smacking you straight in the face. “I honestly question why we’re still friends sometimes.”
“Guys let’s go,” Robin moaned, stood waiting for you. “We’re coming,” you said, jogging up to her, linking arms. “It’s fine just abandon me. Don’t worry about it,” Steve shouted.
“Okay,” you said in sync, laughing to yourselves. “Hey guys!” a familiar voice spoke. Eddie walked over to you, dressed in his normal attire of denim vest, jeans and leather jacket. Cute.
“Munson, you made it,” Steve said happily, “Now I won’t have to spend the night being bullied by these two demons.” You linked your free arm through Eddies, “You’re right! You can be bullied by the three of us.”
“I hate you all,” Steve groaned.
“You know you love us,” Robin said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “So are Wheeler and Byers meeting us there?” Eddie asked.
You nodded, “Yeah, Nance had work so they’re coming a little later.” He hummed in acknowledgement. You began chatting with Robin as you walked, the four of you still linked together.
You didn’t notice the curly haired boys eyes on you, well actually what you were wearing to be specific. Harringtons jacket. Just like a few days ago, you stole his yellow jumper, untying it from his waist.
It broke his heart, he’d always liked you, never got round to telling you. He couldn’t. He was Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You were everything. Your friendship was enough for him, but seeing you, watching you and Steve.
“You good?” you asked him.
“Oh yeah I’m fine, you?”
“Peachy!” you smiled up at him, making his heart flutter. “How’s your uncle Wayne?”
“He’s doing well. He told me to tell you he’s willing to pay you to make him more of that banana loaf.”
You laughed at that, “I’ll make sure too, no payment necessary though. He’s a nice man.” Humming again in agreement.
Robin spoke up, “This looks like a good spot, clear enough to see the fireworks.”
There was some huge celebration for Hawkins happening tonight. Fireworks, a party, the whole big sha-bang. You guys decided to have your own little party, some food, snacks, pot, and good company.
Steve threw a blanket down on the floor, “Nance said she’s bringing another with her,” he explained. You were sat by Lovers lake, it was so peaceful this time of year.
The orange skies reflecting off the still water. “Y/N.”
“Hm?” you asked turning towards Robin.
“Smile!” She said, pointing her camera towards you. You did as she said smiling and posing.
“Perfect!” She grabbed the photo and began shaking it so it would develop. Eddie smiled at you as you mimicked her shaking, the pair of you ended up dancing as she did.
Finally the picture was clear enough to see, “It looks great, you look pretty.”
“Aw thanks Robs,” you smiled, kissing her cheek.
“Anyone want a drink?” Steve asked, pulling out a few beers. “Throw one,” Eddie spoke, catching the can in one hand with ease. He sat down one the blanket, stretching out his long legs.
“Hey you, leave some room for the rest of us,” you spoke, plopping down next to him.
“You’ve got plenty of room, I’m a big guy, let me be comfy.”
“Okay big boy you take all the room you need.” You looked to your can, pulling the tab to open it, not realising how Eddies face flushed.
“Hey Eddie did you bring the good stuff?” Robin asked. “Obviously, I’m not gonna bring gross shit. I’m smoking too.”
“Oh so if you weren’t you’d give us weed that tastes like ass?” Steve asked.
“You know what ass tastes like Harrington?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the boy smirked.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“Hey guys!” Nancys voice came from behind you. You scrambled up to hug her, “Hi!” she smiled to you.
“Hey Nance, Jonathan how are you?” you smiled at him.
The pair of you began quiet conversation, you’d always liked him. Just like Will, they were sweet kids, not surprising with a mom like Joyce. That woman had a heart of gold.
But later on you stood by the waters edge, watching it ripple as the breeze blew. You rubbed your arms, it was a bit cool, and getting colder as the sun disappeared.
“If you say ‘I told you so’ I’ll throw you in the fucking lake,” you said aloud.
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Could smell the hairspray.”
“You’re horrible.”
“But you love me.”
You wrapped your arms around Steve’s middle, his going around your shoulders. “You good?”
“Mhm, stealing your warm.”
“Great so you’ve stole my jacket and warm,” he sighed, but didn’t let go.
“You guys ready to smoke?” Eddie asked, making you look up from Steve’s neck. He almost sounded annoyed? “Yeah!” You smiled at him, walking over to re-join the group.
Plonking yourself down between Robin and Eddie, you hummed in contentment. Eddie pulled out 2 pre-rolled blunts, handing one to Jonathan and keeping one himself.
The pair lit them and took the first inhales, smoke coming out of their noses. “Steves definitely gonna pull a whitey, he’s already drunk!” Robin laughed.
“Why am I friends with any of you?”
“Cause you love us,” you said in a sing-song voice.
The metal head offered you the blunt, not meeting your eyes as you thanked him. Taking a drag you, feeling the tickle of the smoke against your lungs.
The blunts were passed between the six of you and soon enough the first pop and boom was heard in the sky. Red and blue danced against the darkness, leaving you all in awe.
More and more fireworks began to appear, in the starry sky. They were so beautiful. You sighed, resting your head on someone’s shoulder, too stoned to really care who.
He cared though, knowing he’d need something a lot stronger to not care about you. To not feel like his heart would burst out of his chest as you laid there, smiling at the sky.
He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t keep falling for you. Keep loving you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair on him. Or Steve. God you had a boyfriend and you were here with him like this.
Nudging your head with his shoulder slightly, he stood up, brushing down his jeans. Excusing himself and walking away from the five of you.
Cocking you head your eyes followed after the dark haired boy. Wondering what was wrong. After a few minutes you decided to follow after him.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“Eddie~” you called out for him. “You okay? Why’d you go away?” You giggled at your rhyme. Soon enough you found him, his back to you.
“Hi,” you spoke, walking closer to him. He was stood at the waters edge. “You okay? You wandered off.”
“Yeah I’m good.”
“Thought you were just taking a leak, but you were gone agesss. Got worried.”
“Why?” he asked genuinely, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. “Uh cause you’re my friend, and I like you duh.” He hummed at you, and you bumped his shoulder.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it Munson, I’m an open book right now, so this may be your only chance.”
“How long have you and Harrington been a thing?”
Your eyes widened, your jaw slack, you were stunned. “You don’t have to tell me, just curious. You suit each ot-” You put your hand on his mouth, “Edward Munson you finish that sentence and I will projectile vomit.”
He looked concerned, worried you were about to pull a whitey. “Shit we should get you home.”
“No! I’m fine it’s just,” you laughed, “Eddie, Steve’s my cousin.”
He was now the stunned one, “What?”
“He’s my cousin.”
“But your … your last names.”
“Our moms are sisters,” you explained.
“But I thought, he’s so protective of you, and you’re always wearing your clothes.”
“He nags me like a big brother. He’s only a few months older than me, but god he’s annoying.”
Eddie couldn’t believe it. You were cousins. Which made so much sense. So much fucking sense.
You were laughing, “Have I lost you?”
“W-what no! I’m right here.”
“Can I ask you a question now?”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you ask me if I’m dating him?”
“Oh I um … you know. Curious friend.”
“Mhm, sure. Well,” you began to walk back towards the others, “Just in case your curiosity gets the better of you, I should probably just tell you,
“I like you too. I think we should go on a date.” Eddie looked at you in awe.
“How did you know?”
“Kinda obvious. I was waiting for you to ask me out, been dropping hints all the time. It really went over your head.”
You smiled at him. “You dropped hints?”
“All the time. Always asking to hang out, linking arms, laughing so loud at all your jokes, calling you, baking for you, coming to see your band. The list goes on. I like you Eddie.”
“I like you too.”
“I know,” you laughed.
“Take off the jacket.”
“What?”
“The jacket. Take it off.”
You did as he said, pulling off the blue material. Goosebumps instantly covering your skin. It was soon disturbed as Eddie put his leather jacket over your shoulders.
“Suits you,” he smiled, you matched it.
“It’s cosy.” It smelt like him, weed and his woody aftershave. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I hope you know you’re not having it back.”
“That’s fine by me. You look pretty in it.” You cheeks flushed at that, “Thanks Eds. So umm we should get back to the others.”
“Sure, but first, I need to do something.”
Before you had time to ask what he had cupped your cheeks in his ring decorated hands. Connecting your lips to his own. They were soft against yours, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your face.
Kissing him back you deepened it, pulling him closer by his curls, making his groan slightly. Tongues dancing and bodies on one another, you didn’t hear the twig crack behind you.
“My eyes! Oh my god my fucking eyes!” You heard a shout, breaking away from Eddie. Steve was rubbing his face, doubled over. “Here I was thinking you were in danger but no you’re sucking face!”
“Oh my god Steve shut up,” dropping your face into Eddies chest in embarrassment, he hugged you and chuckled into your hair. “No! I’ve just seen my baby cousin, BABY cousin with a tongue down her throat. Gross!”
“Sorry Harrington, we’ll keep it PG around you.”
“You better Munson,” he said walking away from the pair of you. Breaking into laughter, Eddie brushed hair out of your face.
“Well he’s gone now so,” he leaned back down to kiss you. “Nope! Nope nope nope,” Steve ran back, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from Eddie, taking his jacket back too.
The curly haired boy cackled as he heard your whining as Steve dragged you, and his own complaints at how gross you were. Following behind, grin on his face, this may have been one of the best nights of his life.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍
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rubycruzin4abruzin · 26 days
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Summary: Sequel to never been (stage) kissed. After shooting wraps, you and Ruby part ways. Eight months later, you see each other again at the premiere screening, and decide to “sneak away” during the after-party. How will you two navigate the paparazzi after they catch you in a compromising position?
Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader
Contains: mature language, adult humor, kissing, angst, fluff, hair playing, secret relationship trope, brief mention of an ED, publicity tweets and comments, invasive tabloids, the price of fame
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: This is a sequel to my previous RPF, so the RPF Guidelines still stand. This fic contains a very brief mentioning towards an ED, and should not be triggering (at least I don’t think so). I am not insinuating anything by this mention, it is simply meant to shed light on how invasive and presumptuous Hollywood can be. That being said, I had the most fun EVER writing this! Enjoy! :)
———
Ever since the first “kissing lesson,” you and Ruby had spent every on-set lunch break in her trailer. Nothing ever progressed beyond kissing, but with the way Ruby’s hands entangled themselves in your hair, and how she shivered every time your hand grazed her thigh, kissing was really all you needed.
Your mid-day rendezvous were kept a secret from the rest of the world. None of the cast or crew knew exactly what was happening when the door to Ruby’s trailer closed, but it was clear that something was working. Since the trailer lunches began, your on-set chemistry became palpable. It even got to the point where the director would shout words of praise after “cut!”
Eventually, like with all movies, filming began to wrap up. The last day on set, you and Ruby spent all of your down time wrapped in each other's arms, tears falling at the thought of parting. Everyone on set sympathized with the both of you, except for the makeup artist who kept having to touch up your alien makeup after every fallen tear.
You and Ruby promised to keep in touch, and you did for a little while. But daily FaceTimes eventually became weekly phone calls, which turned into sporadic texts, until silence settled between you, save for occasional likes on social media posts. You missed her terribly, and while your pride and fear of rejection kept you from reaching back out, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing you too.
About eight months after shooting wrapped for “Aliens of Atlantis,” you were going over sides for an upcoming audition when you got a call from your agent. Upon answering, she announced that “Aliens of Atlantis” post-production had wrapped, and the film had a scheduled premiere where the cast would be making an appearance.
A blissful daze settled across your face at this news. Your agent kept on talking about the when, the where, and the dress code of the upcoming premiere, but you were only half-listening. Her words mushed together, flying in one ear and out the other as the only thing that mattered to you consumed your mind.
You were going to see Ruby again.
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On the morning of the premiere, you woke up with a knot in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if the cause was nerves or excitement, but you chalked it up to probably being a little of both. You tried everything to settle your stomach, from aspirin to deep breaths to simply distracting yourself with other tasks. Despite your attempts, when your driver arrived later in the day to take you to the premiere, the knot was still there and prominent as ever.
By the time you had arrived and were about to get out of the car, the knot had seemingly spread throughout your entire body, making you feel like an absolute disaster. You took out your phone and checked your reflection in the front-facing camera, just to remind yourself that you weren’t. In fact, you looked good. You were wearing a metallic blue floor-length gown as a not-so subtle nod to your alien character from the movie. Pale blue eyeshadow decorated your eyelids, and you left your hair down in loose face-framing curls. You knew the press would go crazy as soon as they saw you, and that thought alone gave you enough of a confidence boost to calm down a bit.
When the car pulled up to the red carpet, you took a deep breath and stepped out, immediately being bombarded with cameras flashing in your face. You blinked, overwhelmed at the bright lights, and quickly attempted to paste on a smile and act like this wasn’t your first red carpet event.
You stumbled down the red carpet and looked around for Ruby, but the constant camera flashes and bright lights made it difficult to see much. Every now and then you would stop to strike a pose and flash a pretty smile in some random direction, or answer one of the million questions being thrown at you.
“Who are you wearing?”
A fucking blue dress. “Valdrin Sahiti!”
“How do you feel about your first red carpet event?”
Overwhelmed. “So excited!”
“What are you most looking forward to tonight?”
Seeing Ruby again. “Everyone finally getting to see all the hard work from the cast and crew!”
After what felt like an eternity of paparazzi and bullshit answers to trivial questions, the end of the red carpet was finally approaching. You felt yourself let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wasn’t easy, but you managed to make it down your first red carpet without making a complete fool of yourself.
Eventually, the cameras seemed to dissipate, focusing on the next pretty young thing that had just arrived. You blinked, trying to restore your vision infringed upon by the blinding lights. Once you could see in front of you again, you looked up, and a gulp forced itself down your throat at what might have been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen.
There, standing at the end of the red carpet, was Ruby Cruz, radiant amidst the flashing lights.
Her gown was long and form-fitting, sporting bright streaks of color and a slit up one of her legs. Dark brown curls hovered above her shoulders and cascaded down the back of her neck, while glittery red eyeshadow made her blue eyes pop. She looked so natural, posing and smiling for the cameras, that you couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of her.
Upon seeing you, Ruby’s eyes brightened, and a goofy grin spread across her face. She walked towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist and instantly making the cameras go wild. Your cheeks flushed into a bright pink tint. You missed her touch, and having her arm wrapped around you like that almost felt like deja vu.
While the both of you posed for the flashing cameras, Ruby leaned down to your ear and whispered one single sentence, the answer to a question you didn’t need to ask.
“I missed you.”
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Unsurprisingly, the movie premiere turned out to be a massive success. The audience was extremely receptive to the storyline, cheering and gasping at all the right moments. Critics even approached you after the screening to rave about your performance and promise a glowing review.
The after-party was held at a nearby banquet hall, decorated to look like the underwater city of Atlantis. Filk music blasted through speakers while an open bar served space-themed cocktails.
You were busy making your rounds, establishing connections with other attendees while sipping a ‘cosmonaut’ from the open bar. While posing for a photo with a fan, you couldn’t help but realize you hadn’t seen Ruby in a bit. You craned your neck to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged it off, thinking it’s just a big venue and you’d probably run into her at some point during the night.
After several photos, impromptu interviews, and business cards you had nowhere to put, you were exhausted. You tried to make yourself as invisible as possible, leaning against a curtain by the back wall and downing the last sip of your cocktail.
While scanning the room, you noticed some of your castmates appeared slightly tipsy. You felt bad for them, knowing their press interviews would come off as less than professional, but there was a small part of you that wished you had more to drink throughout the night. The party was fun, sure, but took a lot out of you, and alcohol was sure to make it more tolerable.
Suddenly, while you were immersed in watching a crew member profusely apologize to an intern she had drunkenly stumbled into, you felt a disembodied hand appear out of nowhere and wrap around your arm. The hand pulled you behind the curtain you were leaning against, causing you to gasp and drop your empty cup.
You whipped around to see who grabbed you, preparing to throw a punch or scream for help if you had to. Instead, your eyes softened and you lowered your fist upon seeing Ruby, standing there staring at you with a devilish smirk.
“Hi pretty girl.” She cooed, taking a step towards you.
“Ruby…” you half-whispered in shock, eyes traveling up and down her body. “What are you doing?”
“I missed you,” she rested her hands on your hips and bit her lip, letting an ounce of vulnerability shine through her otherwise confident exterior. “I missed this. I feel like we barely got to see each other all night.”
“Me too,” you responded, internally melting at the feeling of her warm hands on your torso.
You wrapped your arms around her neck and leaned close to her before a sense of paranoia made you backtrack. “Ruby, it’s a big party, what if someone sees us?”
Ruby simply shrugged, completely unbothered. “Like you said, it’s a big party. Our castmates are drunk, the press is too focused on capturing their embarrassing moments.”
Her words seemed to reassure you, and you pulled her close to you again, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “I’m glad you pulled me away.”
Ruby crashed her lips against yours, forcing a soft moan to escape your throat. She pulled back, looking deep into your eyes and holding your face in her hands.
“Careful now. We don’t want anyone hearing us.”
You nodded, non-verbally promising to keep quiet before Ruby brought her lips to yours again. Both of you sighed into the kiss, eight months of absence making itself prominent with passion. She tasted like sweet nostalgia with a hint of coconut rum, probably leftover from a drink she had earlier.
Ruby pressed herself against you, and you grabbed at the back of her neck, desperate to be as close to her as possible. She kept her hands planted at your waist, thumbing over the metallic fabric of your gown. Each time her fingertips pressed into your sides sent electrifying shocks through your body, making your knees stutter and causing you to lean more into Ruby for balance.
You brought your hands up to play with one of her curls, prompting a gentle sigh to travel from her mouth into yours. A smirk appeared on your lips, realizing your beloved brunette enjoyed having her hair played with.
Just when you were about to fully take advantage of this newfound information, a sudden crash engulfed your ears, followed by a blinding light and a collective gasp. You and Ruby pulled away from each other, turning your heads to check out the commotion.
One of the interns had drunkenly stumbled into the curtain and pulled it down with him as he fell, leaving you and Ruby entangled in each other and completely exposed to the rest of the party.
All hell broke loose. Interviewers screamed questions from across the room while paparazzi cameras flashed in your face. Those without cameras pulled out their phones and filmed the both of you, desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame.
Anxiety overtook your body as you felt a lump rise to your throat and your heart sink to your feet. You turned to look at Ruby, eyes full of fear, but she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking straight at the flashing cameras, with an expression that made your blood run cold.
You had never seen her bright blue eyes filled with so much anger.
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The pit in your stomach grew as you scrolled through the tabloid headlines and Twitter articles featuring your and Ruby’s “stunt” from the other night. This was bad. So bad, that both of your agents had gotten together to hire a public relations manager just for the situation.
Two days after the movie premiere, an emergency meeting was called. Five of you were called to the manager’s office, with both of your agents sitting on either side of him, and you and Ruby placed across from the three of them.
The manager, named Rick, held out his hand and you gave him his phone back, sick of scrolling through the headlines anyway. As far as you could tell, Rick didn’t seem like a bad guy, but it was clear Ruby didn’t feel the same. She hadn’t said a word throughout the entire meeting, instead keeping her arms crossed in front of her chest and pointing a cold glare towards the man in front of her.
She didn’t trust him, and everyone in the room knew it.
Rick gave the both of you a sheepish grin. “As you both can probably see, you’re kind of the flavor of the week right now.”
Ruby’s agent nodded in agreement. “I have a friend in New York, and she heard a rumor about an SNL sketch being written about the whole thing.”
Your agent sighed, clearly having heard the rumor herself. Ruby simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Is it really that big of a deal?” You piped up.
All eyes turned to look at you, making you shrink in your seat. “I mean, can’t we just wait for it to blow over? All we did was kiss at an after party.”
“It’s not like we were fucking, Rick.” Ruby growled through her teeth, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.
Rick cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Ruby’s candidness. “Well it’s not really that simple…”
“No one knows what you are.” Your agent interrupted. “All the public knows is you were caught going at it like teenagers in a basement, and now the media is going to be on top of everything you do until they figure it out.”
Ruby’s agent nodded. “Before this, we wanted you both to appear single to the public. You’re both very attractive girls. People want you, and we want them to think they can have you.”
“But that’s not really an option now.” Rick pointed out. “Fortunately, both of you have pretty reputable status in Hollywood. People see two of their favorite actresses together, feedback is bound to be mostly positive.”
He opened up a notepad in front of him and started scribbling down something you couldn’t quite make out.
“I’m thinking, we take this relationship and go completely public. Social media posts, dates open to the paparazzi, everything. That way, the media won’t have to do any guess work and this whole thing will blow over sooner.”
Suddenly, Ruby stood up from her seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“Ruby!” Her agent called after her.
She turned to flash an apologetic smile towards all the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m sorry. She’s not usually like this. I’ll talk to her.”
She ran out of the room after Ruby, leaving Rick and your agent to go over the details of the plan. Their voices faded into the background as millions of thoughts swam through your mind. You had a bad feeling about this ‘public relationship’ idea.
How were you supposed to go public with your relationship, when you weren’t even sure if there was a relationship to go public with?
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You adjusted your oversized hat and sunglasses while staring up at the cafe sign that read “Grind n’ Dine,” shuddering at the slightly suggestive name.
One week after the meeting with Rick, he worked with your agents to schedule a public date for you and Ruby, tipping off the press to make sure there was media coverage. Grind n’ Dine, a local business, had apparently paid Rick a large sum of money to schedule your date here in the hopes that the publicity would be good for business.
Taking a deep breath, you walked in through the restaurant doors and looked around. Several members of the press were already present, wearing cameras around their necks and sipping coffee at various tables. You breathed out a sigh of relief that they didn’t recognize you yet, thankful for your agent who suggested arriving in disguise.
In the very back of the restaurant, tucked into a booth, you spotted Ruby hiding behind a menu. She had her body and hair buried under a large black hoodie, and masked her face with sunglasses similar to yours. You made your way over to her, trying to act natural, and making sure to avoid press members as much as possible in case they recognize you before you’re ready.
You slid into the seat across from her and cleared your throat to alert her of your presence. She put down her menu and laid it flat, before tilting her sunglasses down to meet your eyes.
Her blue eyes, once lively and bright, were now bloodshot and emotionless. Dark circles hung like bags underneath them, as if she hadn’t slept in days. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Ruby had never looked at you this way before, and you wished more than anything that she would stop.
“Ready for this?” She asked, her voice monotone and lifeless.
You gulped, nodding defeatedly. “As I’ll ever be.”
Ruby removed her sunglasses and pulled down her hood, shaking out her wild brunette locks. You followed suit, taking off your hat and slipping your sunglasses into your purse.
Almost immediately, members of the press recognized the both of you, and practically trampled the poor servers and other diners to get to your booth. Cameras were suddenly shoved in your face, followed by microphones and what felt like hundreds of pointless and rather invading questions.
“Is this a date? How would you define your relationship?”
“If you had to describe your sex life using only three words, what would they be?”
“Ruby! Do you think every liberal democrat should take home a migrant to show their support for the proposed open border policy?”
The two of you mumbled terse responses to some of the questions, and completely ignored others. After several minutes of verbal torture, a perky blonde waitress fought her way through the press and stopped at the end of your table. She sported a wide politician's smile not directed at the two of you, instead flashed to the surrounding cameras in search of fifteen minutes of fame.
“Hi guys,” she started, her voice unnaturally high pitched. “My name is Bethany, what can I get started for you today?”
“I’ll have a quinoa salad and cranberry juice, please.” You answered, handing Bethany your menu.
The press murmured imperceptible comments regarding your order, some even scribbling notes on napkins. “Quinoa… salad…”
“Just a coffee’s fine.” Ruby mumbled, order being followed by press comments as well.
As soon as Bethany walked away, the paparazzi shoved the cameras back in your face and bombarded you and Ruby with questions once more.
“Did you order cranberry juice because you like cranberry juice or because you have a UTI? How did you get this UTI?”
“I noticed you were the only one who ordered food. Could it be because you’re eating for two?”
“Speaking of, why didn’t you order food, Ruby? Are you battling some kind of eating disorder? Would you like to comment on it?”
“Enough!” Ruby exclaimed, perhaps louder than she should have.
Immediately, the press was silent, with only the sound of sporadic camera clicks being heard. Ruby turned to look at you, tears starting to well in her tired eyes.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this…” she whispered, getting up and running out of the restaurant.
“Ruby! Wait, please!” You stood up and ran after her, leaving the paparazzi in the dust behind you.
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You found Ruby leaning against a building across the cafe. She had her head resting against the cool brick, and her face pointed to the sky while she blinked back tears threatening to fall.
A lump formed in your throat as you started to approach her. You couldn’t stand to see her like this. She looked so… miserable.
“Ruby…” you muttered softly, reaching out your hand.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the concrete, refusing to look you in the eye. “I just wasn’t hungry! It’s barely ten in the fucking morning!”
You sighed. “Ruby, we both know that’s not what this is about. What’s going on?”
She sniffed, and focused her gaze on something behind you. “Can we… go somewhere else?”
Turning to see what Ruby was looking at, you noticed a teenage girl filming the two of you on her phone. You rolled your eyes, completely exasperated at this point.
“Let’s go.” You muttered, grabbing her hand to pull her away.
It didn’t take long to find a nearby alleyway, deserted except for an empty dumpster. You dragged Ruby into the back, letting go of her hand once the coast was clear.
“Talk.”
The pale brunette pushed her bangs out of her face, blinking a couple times while gathering her thoughts.
“I just… this is why my Instagram is private. This is why I’ve never explicitly labeled my sexuality. This is why I rarely talk about my personal life! I don’t want the media invading my space! I don’t want random strangers knowing intimate details about my life! It’s fucking freaky!”
You nodded, understanding her perspective, especially as you’d been recently dealing with the wrath of the paparazzi as well. She continued.
“I mean fuck! I can’t even order a damn coffee without some tabloid claiming I have a fucking eating disorder!”
Her breathing seemed to be evening out the more she spoke. She let out a shuddering breath and crossed her arms, staring at the gravel beneath her feet.
“I just… I just wanted to kiss you at an after-party. I missed you. And now everyone’s forcing us to be in this relationship and make it public but…”
“But no one asked us if we were even together,” you finished.
She nodded. “Exactly! We never even had a conversation just between us. Everyone just assumed.”
You pulled the brunette girl into your arms, wrapping them around her torso. She buried her face in the crook of your neck as you stroked her soft locks.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “If I had known that’s how you felt…”
“No.” She interrupted. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything, I… listen…”
She pulled away, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You waited for her to tell you that she didn’t want to see you again, that it was too hard, that it meant nothing.
You held your breath as she took your face in her hands, her blue eyes piercing into yours.
“I like you.”
“You… huh?” Shock painted your features as Ruby said the last thing you were expecting to hear.
“I like you.” She repeated, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned. “I meant it when I said I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire eight months we didn’t talk. I should have reached out more, I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was scared? I don’t know…”
She was babbling, and you didn’t think she could get any cuter. You took her hands off your face and held them in yours, flashing her an encouraging smile.
“I like you too,” you replied giddily. “More than you know.”
Ruby chuckled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. She stared down at the gravel again, chewing on her lip before speaking.
“I like you… I really do, but if we’re gonna start this… something, I’d want to take it slow and be completely private. No socials, no media, at least for now. Would… that be something you’re okay with?”
You squeezed her hands, flashing her a goofy grin. “I would… love that, actually.”
As you stared at your former celebrity crush, turned co-star, turned friend, turned… something, a wave of courage suddenly washed over you. Letting go of her hands, you seized her face and brought your lips to hers, tentatively, testing the waters. She gasped, but soon kissed back, sighing as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned into your body.
You moved your hand towards the back of her neck, then slowly inched upwards until your fingers were entangled in her hair. An almost inaudible moan escaped her lips and vibrated against yours as you played with her soft tresses. You smirked into the kiss, remembering exactly how much she liked having her hair played with before getting caught at the after-party.
Finally, after what could have been an eternity, you pulled away from each other. The two of you gasped for breath, both smiling like giddy children at the other.
“So… what now?” You asked breathlessly.
Ruby hummed to herself, seemingly in thought. “We could… go on a real date? Just you and me? No paparazzi. There’s this great little hole-in-the-wall place I like to go to when I don’t want to get recognized.”
You tilted your head, shooting her a lopsided smile. “That sounds perfect, actually.”
Before leaving the alleyway, Ruby put her sunglasses back on and pulled her hood over her head again, while you dug your sunglasses out of your purse and readjusted your hat. The two of you were disguised, hidden from the world, but happy to be able to pursue each other away from public opinion.
Ruby reached out her hand, her blue eyes somehow still managing to shine behind her sunglasses. “Ready for this?”
You smiled back at her, taking her hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. “As I’ll ever be.”
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dreaminginpencil · 9 months
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(Got obsessed with this idea, so this was a twt thread.)
Eddie makes true crime videos. Steve is the shocking headline of boy-next-door convicted of multiple murders that rocked a small town. 
Steve maintains his innocence and now Eddie is going to get the chance to interview the man himself. He doesn’t expect to believe Steve.
Hawkins is rife with missing persons and strange deaths. Kids that vanished on their way home, young people that slipped through the cracks. 
But three young women were murdered, and all signs pointed unwaveringly to Steve. It feels too neat, too simple, but if Eddie has any hope of proving Steve innocent, he has to prove beyond doubt that the court was wrong. 
There are people on his side - Nancy, Hop - people who never could accept the ruling, people who knew Steve a long time before all this.It’s a high profile case though, and that makes headlines over again as they dig up old hurts to figure out the truth. It’s messy hard work, slow.
Eddie doesn’t expect to fall for Steve while they work to overturn his conviction, that part just kind of… happens?
They arrest Tommy Hagan, the kind of delusional not-quite-ex that makes an awful kind of sense when the pieces fall into place and Eddie sees the full picture. 
And the first time Eddie feels Steve throw warm arms around him under blue skies, a free man, his heart skips a beat. Steve is not the man Eddie went looking for, the unhinged golden boy of one of his stories, instead he’s kind, warm, devoted, everything Eddie could ask. 
Eddie can’t wait to share their lives, to figure out rebuilding a life for Steve in the rubble of the one he almost lost.
Aaaand if you like your ending sweet and not unhinged, read no further ✨ If you wanna get messy? Read on.
They’re two states away, driving on an open highway, when Steve turns to look at Eddie and smiles. “Thing is… I was a sucker for the curls, or a pretty smile, you know? I got carried away, baby. Those girls, and Billy, it just… happened.”
Eddie’s blood runs cold.
Serial killers usually have a type, Eddie knows this. Something uniting them. Eddie thinks of the trio he was originally convicted for. Of Heather. Of Chrissy. Of Barb. Or one of Hawkins’ missing and presumed dead, Billy. Curls or a pretty smile.
Eddie wonders if there’s more.
Steve smiles, that gorgeous warm smile that gives Eddie butterflies, eyes returning to the road. Eddie wonders how he never noticed the way Steve wears the expression like tiger does its stripes, hiding in plain sight. 
The handsome ones got away with the worst things.
Steve is still talking, white teeth and all American good looks in the drivers seat. “It’ll be our little secret, Eds.” Steve’s hand settles on his thigh. “I’d never hurt you, I promise sweetheart. Cross my heart.” 
Eddie knows he has made a monumental and terrible mistake.
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