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eddiernunson · 1 month

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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

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Word Count: 10k

A SPECIAL HAPPY BIRTHDAY POST. (I’m 28 y’all)

Chapter contains: brief pregnant!reader, babies/kids…this is like a lil collection of blurbs. I have some head canons about each OC I can post if you’d like xoxo

I had ideas about their kids for ages, lol. This crazy lil family is chaotic

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for without you two this fic wouldn’t nearly be this good

Third trimester is a bitch. I barely have the bandwidth to write lately. I hope you enjoy

Two pink little lines stare back at you as Eddie turns the shower on, completely oblivious to the manic state you’re in.

He offers you to join him, a temptation you decline with an intense amount of reluctance. You just claim you need your own bed, which was true.

Eddie missed four weeks of work while you were on your luxe honeymoon, which means he now has several fires to put out. It keeps him busy for the week, making the doctor’s appointments and blood work you do that much easier when he passes right out on his couch at the end of his long days.

The following week, knowing you're pregnant but not being able to tell him is pure torture. It doesn't help that for some odd reason Eddie seems more lovey, more affectionate. Your first instinct is to chalk it up to your newlywed status, but his affection feels different, the way his arms wrap around you each morning to wake you up, his gentle voice low in your ear. It's driving you up a wall not being able to share your secret with him.

He seems to consistently have a hard time letting you go to leave for work (not that you’re complaining.) Though eventually you have to practically push him out the door.

The ultrasound is nearly dull, the implantation in question is only a bundle of cells, but once you get a photo from the tech at the end of the appointment, it’s the very thing you needed to tell Eddie.

After another early night of falling asleep you empty the face of the fridge, yanking every magnet off as you place the sonogram on the silver surface with a pink heart magnet right at his eye level.

Eddie wakes in the middle of the night, a sudden urge to rise hitting him out of nowhere. His arm tightens around your waist, admiring your pretty face as he kisses your cheek. Your face falters only the littlest bit, twitching your muscles to shake off the tickle of his stubble.

He finds himself starving, craving something only a feral racoon would also be satisfied with. He rubs his eyes as he walks down the steps. Sometimes he thinks he’s going to see you back in the kitchen chair in the dress and bathing suit, Dylan searching manically for a parking pass as if Eddie has imagined this whole dream scenario. Your love is just too good not to think he’d made it all up at times. He smiles to himself as he turns on the stove light, turning to the fridge for a snack.

He feels frozen by the blank fridge at first, wondering where all the magnets got to. The black and white image staring him dead in the face suddenly registers, the heart shaped magnet falling to the floor as he rushes to pick it up to make sure his tired eyes aren’t fucking with him. They bulge out of his head when the significance of the photo occurs to him, and the hunger that woke him up seems to vanish.

His long legs take the stairs two and three at a time as he rushes back to you, hurling himself beneath the covers.

The cold of his arms startles you, a gasp leaving your lips from the shock as you abruptly awoke. “Hmm?”

“Are you fucking pregnant, sweetheart?” His eyes are unbearably soft, melted pools of milk chocolate staring intently at you.

A burst of sleepy giggles leaves your mouth, turning your body so you don't have to crane your neck. “You got up early.” You comment, weaving your fingers into his curls.

“Skip the pleasantries, love.” He dismisses, scooping his arms beneath your back. “Are you fucking pregnant?”

You pull him in for a kiss, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him down against you. “What’s the sonogram tell you?”

He chuckles against your lips, his thumbs swaying against your smiling cheeks. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” You nod, absentmindedly playing with his curls. “Fuck, I’m so excited right now, baby.”

“Really?” You ask him, grinning.

“I just found out my wife is having my baby. Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, rutting his hips against yours desperately. “I’m rock hard, sweets.”

Lucky for you and him, you opted for a pair of tiny panties and a t-shirt to bed, feeling his hardened cock against the thin lace fabric of your panties. Your fingers fumble to his boxers, hurriedly pushing them down his hips. “Then fuck me.”

Eddie gently pulls the fabric aside, exposing it as his head perfectly brushes against your entrance. “God, my girl is soaked for me, ain’t she?”

Your thighs tighten around his hips, jaw dropping as he teases you. “Want you, please, Ed.” Your eyes squeeze shut, relishing in the feeling of him pressed against you

He pushes in, arms wrapping themselves around your torso. “Oh my god you’re having my fucking baby,” Eddie mumbles, face curling into your neck. “Gonna see your stomach all big when you’re carrying my baby, sweets, and you’ll be even hotter than you are now. Which I thought was impossible.”

No words come to mind, mouth open and gasping at the way he moves in you. The cotton of your shirt is too hot, your hands shakily grabbing at the fabric to take it off. Eddie admires the sight he sees as your piqued nipples fall out of his faded black t-shirt, his eyes glazed over as he stares down at them. A moth drawn to the light, he dives into one, curling his tongue around the nipple with the perfect mix of teeth, pulling little mewls from you.

“Fuck, we’re gonna be the happiest little family,” he chokes, kissing from your breast up to your neck, his voice filled with emotion.

“Love you,” you sigh, gasping into his open mouth as his hips hit you harder.

Eddie smiles, a wicked little grin as his hand curves over the swell of your tummy, thumb petting it gently.

“Hold on to me, sweetheart. Hold on to your baby daddy,” you grin the line, wonderfully cheesy, but Eddie feels the way you tighten around him. Your arms curl around his back, pulling his body against yours.

“Eddie, make me cum, please.”

“Hold on, baby, I’m almost there, hold on,” he stutters, his deep voice starting to falter. His lips bend down to your ear, gasping desperately, bordering on whining. “Fuck– cum with me.”

His lips wrap around yours, delicately connecting his tongue with yours as his hips stutter a final time, the little moans vibrating against your lips as he fills you up. As you collapse on the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined, he spends the twenty minutes until he falls asleep cooing, whispering in your ear how excited he is.

You wake up the same way, with rounds two and three before he begrudgingly trudges off to work.

The sun accounts as a natural alarm clock as Dylan stretches his limbs wide, turning to face his girlfriend. His arm falls over Maya’s form, pulling her in as he starts to wake up. “Morning, Dylan,” she whispers, her pink lips spreading into a smile.

He pulls her back against his stomach, hiking his legs under hers. “Mornin’.”

She hums as he kisses the back of her neck, giggling as he takes a deep inhale of her shampoo. “You work today?”

“No,” Dylan answers, caressing the strip of her exposed skin with his thumb. “I am seeing my dad today.”

She smirks, turning to face him. “And your stepmom?” Dylan grits his teeth, tickling her stomach until she begs him to stop, hunching over the arm around her. “Okay, I’m sorry!”

“Mmhm. I’m telling them, did you want to join me?”

Maya squishes her face, seemingly debating on pros and cons. “I’m gonna pass on that, respectfully.” She can feel the questioning look Dylan gives her. “I have a long shift today, and I am exhausted.”

“Next time, I’m dragging you with me,” Dylan insists, squeezing with his arms wrapped around her.

“I’m counting on it.”

As soon as Dylan opens the door, he listens in, waiting for a sound that never comes. Good, he waited long enough to come. He wanders into the kitchen, meeting his dad drinking orange juice straight from the carton. “Dad?”

His dad freezes, removing the spout from his mouth, and wipes his face hurriedly. “Hey bud.”

Dylan raises his eyebrow at him, pointedly glancing to the carton and back to him.

“Don’t tell my wife.”

Dylan smirks, rolling his eyes. “Speaking of the devil, where is she?”

“Upstairs.”

As if your ears are burning, the two men’s ears pick up the particular sound of someone coming down the stairs. Eddie prays you come downstairs with some clothes on. Your face lights up when you see Dylan, welcoming him into your arms without a second thought. “Dylan!” The familiarity you two share is still new, but wrapping him in a hug is like second nature at this point. “What brings you into this part of the world?”

You leave the embrace, backing straight into Eddie’s arm. “Actually, I have some news I wanna share with you guys.”

Eddie’s hand tightens around your arm, he’s mentioned Dylan talking about proposing last month, and this news felt right around the corner. He feigns ignorance, innocently asking, “Oh, what news would that be?”

Dylan’s cheeks bloom in red, glancing down to his feet sheepishly. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to travel to a destination wedding while largely pregnant. “Uh, we–or, Maya,” he clears his throat, a laugh stuttering through it, “Maya’s pregnant.”

The first thing you do is glance at your husband, both sporting wide eyes and slacked jaws. To say you’re surprised is a grand understatement.

“Not the news you were expecting?” Dylan asks, watching the two of you share a silent conversation.

In sync, the two of you switch back to him, twin smiles on your faces. Dylan had no idea what either of the faces in front of him could possibly mean, and there’s a part of him that wonders if this is happy news for either of you.

“Um, no, actually,” Eddie barely holds back the sound of laughter in his voice. “That’s, that’s fantastic news, Dyl.” Truly, fantastic news. Eddie has been looking forward to being a biker grandfather since Dylan showed interest in being a father.

You smirk, leaning into his shoulder. “How far along is she?”

“Uh, 8 weeks, or so,” Dylan answers, squishing up his face comically.

“Oh wow, so a week behind me, then,” you say nonchalantly, nodding at Eddie.

“Wait, what?” Dylan asks, making sure he understood that correctly.

You giggle, nodding as you sit your head in Eddie’s neck. “Yeah, I’m pregnant too, ironically enough.”

Eddie leans into your ear, “So you’re gonna be a mom and a grandma in the same year…”

Your eyes widen. “To think, I was just getting used to the idea of being a mom.” You lean back, meeting your husband’s pretty brown eyes. “Are we sure the kid’s gonna call me grandma?”

Dylan picks up the conversation right away. “I mean, unless we’re gonna be completely honest with them, it doesn't make sense otherwise. You’re grandpa’s wife, therefore grandma.”

Am I mom, then, too? You think to yourself, knowing you’ll point it out later. Your stomach rumbles, turning around to the counter to start making a breakfast of sorts. Your eyes hit the open orange juice jug and the lack of cup. “Did you drink straight out of the carton, again, mister?”

Eddie avoids your eyes, looking at his son. “Hey, I didn’t say anything,” he surrenders, having a seat at the island.

“How’s Maya been handling the pregnancy so far?” you ask, grabbing a pan from under the cupboards. “Because morning sickness is no joke.” You pause, leaning on the counter. “Not just in the morning, either.”

“I think it’s some nausea, a bit of acid reflux, but to my knowledge she hasn’t been sick,” Dylan says, taking out his phone to text Maya about the news.

“Bitch,” you mutter, the tone in your voice clear you’re joking. “We can’t all be so lucky. Eggs?”

Dylan nods, grinning at the text Maya shoots back. “So dad, you’re gonna have a kid and a grandkid the same age as each other?”

Eddie shrugs, taking another large sip from the carton. “Since my girl showed up, my life hasn’t been normal, and this just means it will never be normal again.”

“You’re welcome,” Dylan laughs, rolling his eyes at the exasperated look you shoot at him.

Dylan’s phone buzzes, glancing at the unknown number as Maya fades in the middle of her sentence. “One minute, babe, I’m expecting a call from the interview I just did last week. Dylan Munson, speaking.”

“Oh, Dyl-pickle, you sound so big!” Only one person has ever called Dylan that. He gulps, the sound of her voice bringing up old, sore emotions.

“Brooke. W-why are you calling me?”

“Brooke? C’mon, I’m your mom, sweetheart,” she whines, her voice the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

“Really, are you?” Dylan asks, getting up from the bed and starting to pace the hallway, his anger already building. “Ok, what college did I go to?” Silence. “What did I major in? What year did I graduate high school? When did I have my first kiss? Who’s my current girlfriend? What’s my best friend’s name? What sort of vehicle do I drive?”

She doesn’t answer a single question, instead giving stuttered empty answers. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer any of that… We haven’t exactly been talking for the last fifteen years.” She says, somewhat accusatory.

Dylan sighs, rubbing his face frustratedly. “What, your phone didn’t work all those years?”

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not the only one who had a phone,” she protests, sounding incredibly defensive.

“Yeah, well, you also weren’t a child for 8 of those years who begged his dad for his mom to come to one thing that was important to him,” Dylan retaliated, angry at her gaslighting. “My dad had your number, always left voicemails inviting you to my soccer games, to award ceremonies, to my birthdays, and you never answered a single call, let alone showed up.”

“I’m sorry, Dylan, I am, but I was young then, you can’t blame me for wanting a fresh start.”

“Actually, I can,” Dylan answers, now done with this conversation. “You had eight years to be a mom before I finally gave up on you. You don’t get to pick and choose when to be my mom, now.”

“I’m sorry that hurt your feelings, Dyl. But I have two boys, and they really want to meet their older brother. Would you come down for lunch one day?”

He nods, knowing that this sudden need to be a mom again wasn’t going to come for free. “No. I have no interest in being your life. Not since the day I turned 18.”

“C’mon, Dyl–”

“No, mom–Brooke. No. Don’t call me again, please. I need to go now.”

She starts another sentence, but Dylan hangs up on her before he hears it. When he walks into the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend, he crawls into the bed next to her, feeling like the ten year old whose life got torn apart.

It looks like Brooke still has that uncanny talent for making everything about her.

Eddie sits in his office, a small room decorated with frames filled with the faces of those he loves and papers strewn around the desk. He’s going over the receipts and payments, and silently regrets not having hired an accountant by now, but he’s far too stubborn to admit it.

There’s a knock on the door and Eddie looks up in relief. Please, let there be a disgruntled customer to save him from the numbers. “Come on in!”

Connor, one of the new apprentices he hired only a few months ago comes in, looking timid. The first few months he has a new hire they’re usually shy, and when their self confidence in their ability to do their job kicks in, Eddie truly starts to miss it. “Uh, hey, boss, there’s a client out there who wants to speak to you.”

Eddie chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on his desk. “Don’t, don’t call me boss. What do they want?”

Connor screws up his face. “Uh, I forgot to ask.”

“Always ask, man. Tell them I’ll be right out.”

“Alright, I’ll tell her.” Eddie sighs in relief, women tend to be more understanding.

“Hey, send in Joe, will ya?”

“On it!”

Joe, a man who’s worked for Eddie for 20 years, older by ten years, walks into the office just a moment later. “What’s up, Ed?”

“Give the lady a talk, will ya?” Eddie asks, scratching the itch on his right forearm. “Ask her what she wants.” Joe, tall, dark, and quiet, nods and shuts the door.

He’s back in the office in seconds. The door’s loose knob has barely clicked shut before it’s abruptly opened again. “That fast?”

Joe shakes his head, his eyes wide with a grimace on his face. “Uh, no, it’s…it’s Brooke.”

Eddie scrunches his face up. “Brooke, like…Brooke?”

“Yeah. You want me to–”

“No it’s okay, I got it,” Eddie insists, a pit forming in the depths of his stomach. He rubs his face tiredly, fully unprepared to deal with this.

“Dude, you sure?” He asks, having been with Eddie through the divorce.

“Seriously, I got it. Thanks, man.”

Eddie gets up from his desk, catching the eyes of his long-time employees on his way to the entrance of the garage. He’s fine. He’ll be fine.

There she stands, looking around the garage holding her purse with two hands. She’s dressed like one of those Instagram moms, high waisted jeans with a loose blouse tucked in under a long coat. Her eyes land on him, her face lighting up as she exclaims, “Wow, the garage looks great!”

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, sighing. “Is there a particular reason for…”

Brooke smiles, and Eddie could almost see a genuine human behind the mask. “Um, do you mind if we go into your office?”

Eddie raises his brows, perplexed. “I really don’t see the necessity for it.”

“It’s not really a conversation to have in front of the guys, Eds,” Brooke comments, shuffling her feet as she crosses her arms.

Eddie winces at the nickname she calls him. She really doesn’t know him well enough to call him such anymore. The audacity of it astounds him. “I’m not Eds to you…and my office holds things that are precious to me, that I honestly want to keep out of this conversation.”

“Like I haven’t already seen pictures of your little wife,” Brooke grimaces, her tone switching from sweet to condescending in a split second, her eyes rolling. “Congrats on that, or whatever.”

Eddie blinks, too exhausted to argue. “Alright, come on.”

It's not like Brooke hasn’t been in his office before, Eddie thinks, they were happily married, after all. She looks around at the changes, her eyes seemingly fixated on where photos of Dylan’s previous achievements are proudly displayed. “Wow, he looks just like you,” Brooke mutters, a look on her face that Eddie can’t quite place.

Eddie assessed the bulletin, Dylan’s graduation, first school dance, the Munsons spending a weekend at the Harrington’s, it certainly spelled out to her what she missed out on.

He clears his throat, quietly asking for her to continue. “Right, um, I was wondering if you could talk to our son.”

“Our son?” Eddie asks, barely holding back his laughter. “Last time I checked you said he was my son.”

Brooke ignores it, faltering in her seat. “I tried calling him last week, but he shut me down.”

“What do you need me to talk to him about exactly?” Eddie leans against his desk, his hands gripping the edge.

Brooke blinks, tilting her head. “When did you cut your hair?”

“Irrelevant. What do you need me to talk to him about?” Eddie enunciates, already feeling the exhaustion of her mere soul sucking presence.

“My sons are asking questions about him, and they would like to meet him.” She inhales, as if preparing herself for what she was about to say, “I would love to reconnect with both of you, honestly.”

Like an anvil, Eddie feels his stomach pull him all the way down into the floor. The silence she’s given him and Dylan for the last fifteen years has been stable, reliable even. The most reliable thing about her. This is turning off the road into a ditch with nothing to instigate it. “What did he say?”

“Uh, he had no interest in it,” Brooke shrugs, leaning back in her seat.

Eddie nods, having expected it. “Brooke, those pictures on the wall? My son spent so much time begging me to call and get you to at least one event, one time just to show that you still cared about him.” He pauses, watching her avoid his eyes. “I left dozens of voicemails in your inbox, and I know it was your inbox, because I remember the day it went from Munson to Prescott. I begged you to show up. Just once. The last time I did was for his graduation, but by then I had stopped telling him.”

“He told our lawyers and the judge he wanted nothing to do with me. Forgive me if I thought he was telling the truth,” Brooke huffs, her voice sounding defensive.

“He was a child, Brooke!” Eddie deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “A child hurt by his mother’s actions tearing apart his happy family. Staying with the stable parent was probably the more appealing option.” He scratches at the stubble on his face, glancing over to the sonogram sitting on his desk. He’d hoped Brooke hadn’t caught wind of that news, yet. “At first, he was really hurt, but after a while, he just wanted his mom. Who never showed up.”

“Well, I might be a little late, but doesn’t it count for something that I’m trying, now?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest.

“I think it counts more that he’s about to be a father and he has no interest in including you in his kid’s life.”

Her eyes bug right out of her head. “Wait, what?”

“Mmhm. Seems he’d rather give what was supposed to be your title to someone he’s known for less than a year.” Eddie flickers to the photo of you he has framed, a portrait of you surrounded by the sunset in your wedding dress. “You had eight years, Brooke. Eight. You don’t get to decide to be a parent when it’s convenient for you. I never had that luxury. I had to pick myself and my son up and find a way to get through it emotionally without falling apart at the seams.”

She seems to start talking, but Eddie is on a roll. “I finally feel like I’m living my life, and not just surviving. If you reached out five years ago, I probably would’ve said yes. I even had a low enough self-esteem to hope it would mean something more…but now I have this woman, this beautiful person who showed me how much she believes I’m worth, showed me how much I am worth. Brooke, no offense, but when I look back on it, especially comparing the two, you treated me like shit.”

“Uh, okay,” Brooke mutters, holding her hand out. “I did not treat you like shit.”

“You never stuck up for me with your parents, forced me to do things I was uncomfortable with all the time, gave ‘our’ son’s teachers hell all the time, and, oh yeah, left me for the person you told me not to worry about. So, no I will not be talking to my son. If he comes to the conclusion to reconnect with you, then fine. But I will not be participating.”

“Wow, you’re being harsh.” Brooke complains, grimacing. “Eddie, I was young. I made a few stupid decisions.”

“You know, my wife is a bit young. Somehow, she already knows not to act like a stone cold cunt.” Brooke stutters through an empty response, completely rendered speechless. “I think we’re done here.”

“I’m not done!”

“Well, I suggest you be by the time my pregnant wife gets here, because she’s not your biggest fan.” It gives him the utmost satisfaction to start looking through the papers. He glances back up to her expectant expression. “Safe travels back to Boston, hmm?”

Eddie swears the smile on your face in the photo of you grows, glad the backbone he needed seems to have finally grown. “You’re not going to even–”

“No. I’m not. I’m done here, Brooke. Give Kevin my condolences, yeah?”

Brooke nods, reluctantly understanding she wasn’t going to get what she wanted. Eddie had indeed grown the self-confidence she never saw when she was with him. “Condolences?”

“Yeah, for still being stuck with you. Close the door on your way out.”

Brooke’s nostrils flare, her jaw locking. She turns around without another word, the slam of the door echoing through the garage as she storms out, every click of her heel enunciated.

Moments later, Joe pops through the door. “Everything, ok, Ed?”

Eddie looks up, his dimples pronounced on his face. “Oh just, peachy, Joe. Mind if I take off for the rest of the day?”

“I would be concerned if you didn’t, man.”

The ringing of your phone stirs you from your slumber, having passed out on the couch mid snack. An app you downloaded on your phone for the pregnancy said the first trimester would have you feeling quite sleepy, and you didn’t believe it until you find yourself constantly falling asleep during your off days, and exhausted at work when you really shouldn’t be.

Your sister’s name lights up the screen, and the quick assessment of the movie tells you you’ve been asleep for at least forty-five minutes. “Hey, Viti.”

“Hey, sis,” she greets, an airy tone in her voice. “Sounds like you just woke up.”

You haven’t broken the news to your family, yet, waiting to present the information in the form of a present next time you and Eddie make your way over to your parents’ house. “Had an afternoon siesta,” you sigh, watching the movie you’re tempted to restart. The twist of Carlisle’s death just isn’t the same if you don’t build up to it. “What’s up?”

She sighs, a habit you’re all too familiar with. “Spit it out.”

“Okay,” she starts, gaining her courage. “Me and Arlo got together the night of your wedding.”

If you were attempting to get rid of any sense of sleep, it disappeared within a second. The information takes a second to register, eyes darting around the living room filled with wrappers you have yet to throw out. “Harrington?”

She laughs, probably expecting a much worse answer. “Do you know any other Arlos?”

“Guess not.” You pet the bangs in your eyes away from your face, trying to remind yourself of the look on your baby sister’s face when she was slow dancing with him. “Ok. How did it happen?”

“You’re okay with this?” She asks, your heart melting at how little her voice sounds.

“It was never my choice, Vi,” you answer, using the remote to restart the movie. “If you like him and trust him, then, yeah, I’m okay with it. So how did it happen? Tell me all about it. But if you’ve slept with him, then maybe not all about it,” You chuckle. Viti sighs exasperatedly and you can practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Um, so we were kind of flirting a lot after the family dinner. I thought he was just being nice, but I was willing to be his friend. It got a bit more intense at the wedding, and he asked me to dance…”

“I saw,” you admit, granted you only saw because Eddie pointed it out to you. “What happened after that?”

You can hear the smile on her face. “He led me to a hallway, and then we went to the hotel room I was staying in…” She trails off sheepishly. Oh, that's all you need to know.

“Damn, girl!” you laugh, opting to push away the mental image and simply be your sister's friend right now.

“We went to dinner last week,” she says, a giggle laced through her sentence. “I really, really like him.”

It had to be Arlo Harrington. “Then I’m really, really happy for you. Have you told everyone else yet?”

“You’re the last to know, to be honest. I think Eddie even knows at this point.” You roll your eyes, because of course that’s why he was so peculiar this morning.

“Just because I don’t necessarily approve of the choice of boy doesn’t mean I won’t be happy for you. Plus, I could get used to him, after all, Steve isn’t so bad.” That’s a damn lie, Steve Harrington has become one of your favorite people. “Tell me you got out of the hotel room before mom and dad discovered you.”

“We heard them coming down the hall…” she says, giggling. “We were dressed as they were about to come in the door. Luckily, they were both pretty drunk, so they didn’t really catch on to what was happening. Well, until the next morning at brunch, I guess.”

Note, send a text to your mom asking about what her perspective was, because there’s a chance she knew more than she let on. You think to yourself.

“Anyway, four weeks in Cancun. Spare me the dirty details but tell me all about it,” she giggles, moving the phone away from her face, “shut up, stop, shut up!’

“Let me guess. Arlo?”

A burst of giggles runs through her body and you can hear the smile on her face. “Maybe,”

“You couldn’t wait until you were alone?”

“She’s not really alone all that much these days,” Arlo’s voice rings out. You can picture the smug smirk on his face.

“Arlo!” She chides him, and yeah, this might not be so bad, you decide.

“I’m gonna let you two go,” you offer, dismissing any protests she let out. “Also, without the dirty details there’s not much of the honeymoon to tell. Well, except one thing.”

“What?”

“You'll have someone new to meet in seven months!”

“No way!”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years is the song for the last credit scene of the Twilight Series. As each character is shown with the corresponding credit, it gets closer and closer to the main cast.

It might just be the hormones, but this round of credits just seems to hit differently, tears spilling down your cheeks as it gets to the Cullen family. The front door to the house slams shut, announcing the arrival of your husband. Odd, he’s about three hours early.

The weight of the cushion next to you sinks down with a comforting arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your head falls easily into his embrace, curling into his lap as you sniffle. It’s ridiculous, the irrational reaction that takes over you, but damn do the editors know how to elicit a reaction out of the audience.

His hand pets your shoulder, kissing your forehead. “You crying at Twilight?”

You nod, furrowing your eyebrows. “Lose the smug attitude, mister. This is your doing.”

He laughs under his breath, petting your hair. “Hmm, that’s not how I remember our honeymoon.”

You tilt your head back to look at his face, fretting at the curls that are starting to resemble closer to a mullet. “Just because I begged for your babies does not mean you had to listen to me.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips that takes the breath out from your lungs. As he backs away, he hums with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s on your mind?” You ask, your brows knitting together.

Eddie sighs, petting the bare skin exposed on your hip. “Minor Brooke update, today.”

Your brows instinctively rise, feeling every little muscle in your face tense up. “Oh?”

“Yup. Are you interested?”

You close your eyes, asking any entity out there listening for a lick of patience. “You piqued my interest. Lay it on me.”

Eddie can’t beat around the bush, or he would never say it. “She came into my work today.” He pauses, allowing you to absorb the information before continuing. “Requesting that I convince Dylan to…let her back into his life, so to say.” You squint, remembering the few times that Dylan had confessed about his mom to you, always finishing by claiming he wants nothing to do with her and never will.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you comment, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between yours.

“She reached out to him last week and when he refused, I guess the next most logical step was to drive the six hours from Boston and corner me at work.” Your teeth grit, angry at the fucking gall that fills Brooke whatever-the-fuck her last name is. God forbid Steve or Eddie ever accidentally tell you what it is, because the day it comes her inbox will be flooded with just a little piece of your mind, and she'll be lucky if profanities are the worst things you say.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, having watched your face move through the storm of emotions.

“I was thinking that I fucking hate your ex-wife and if she has no haters then I’m dead,” you answer, dead panning.

“I love you,” he sighs, tugging you in against his chest. “Are you hungry?”

You look at the wrappers decorating the mahogany coffee table, “Surprisingly yes.”

“Lets get a real meal in you, shall we?”

Eddie is present at every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, birthing class, and even at 20 weeks, when you were inexplicably spotting, stayed with you throughout the 7 hour wait at the ER. He certainly helped you hide from the embarrassment of the doctor explaining the bleeding seemed to be brought on by intercourse and to start being a bit more careful.

Only one time does a health care worker mistake Eddie for being your father, a mistake quickly fixed at the death glare he gives her. You don’t know how, as you look nothing alike and he has been doting on you too affectionately to be a dad, but you can’t help teasing him by calling him daddy as soon as she leaves the room.

Well, that’s a lie.

There is one other time he’s mistaken for your father, running into the maternity ward and anxiously stating your name to the front desk of labor nurses. The head nurse, a woman bearing silver streaks in her hair, calmly tells him to relax and sit down, only the baby’s father is allowed in the room with patients.

“Well you better take me to my wife, then,” he deadpans, his eyes harsh enough to shoot daggers if it were physically possible.

She stutters through her response. “Oh, you-you’re her husband? I’m so sorry I assumed–my mistake, she’s in the third door on the left.”

He rushes to the door, ignoring her last pleas for forgiveness. He was far too busy focusing on how he knew he shouldn’t have gone into work when he knew you were due to go into labor any day now. He knew he should've told them to ask Joe for the solution, as he was basically acting owner while he was away.

When he bursts through the door, you’re sat on the bed in the room with Bethany petting your face as you push through a particularly hard contraction.

He waits and watches anxiously for you to get through it before announcing his arrival. As soon as your eyes land on him he sees your face crumple in relief and your hands reach out for him. “Baby,” you whine, seeking the comfort of his shampoo and cologne.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, planting a big kiss on the hand that was reached out. “Thank you so much, Bethany, for taking her.”

She shrugs, dismissing his over exaggerated gratitude. “She’s been a champ. Let me know if you two need anything.”

Eddie pets your hair, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “How’ve you been, baby?”

“Only been an hour, and I am so over labor,” you whine, smiling pathetically. “Thanks for coming so fast.”

Eddie was surprised he didn’t get pulled over, going 90 down the freeway. He turned a 20 minute drive into 8. “Made any progress?”

“I’m only one centimeter dilated. We could be here for a while.”

“I’m here every minute,” he says, grabbing a chair to sit by your bed. “I believe in you. We’ll listen to Taylor, listen to a smutty audio book, watch a true crime series, whatever you want, baby.”

True to his word, he allowed you to blast your Faves Spotify playlist, watched a few episodes of 48 Hours with you, and even sat with you as he let you play with the makeup you had packed in your hospital bag on his face.

You made him look like a Captain Jack Sparrow, giggling as he animatedly talks in a pirate voice. The best thing about Eddie being there is that he wards off your parents and others who wish to visit you in your labor and acts as your advocate when the nurse is too rough with you and requests a new nurse immediately. Well, and his presence alone puts you at ease, of course.

It feels like forever, but you’re eight centimeters dilated when a familiar face walks down the hall, passing his father as he carries the millionth cup of ice chips you requested. “Bud! Did someone text you about–”

“She told me when Bethany was driving her to the hospital, but that’s actually not why we’re here,” Dylan sheepishly admits, his shoulders shrugging up to his ears as a pink blooms across his cheeks.

“We?” Eddie catches on, blinking. “Is Maya also..?”

“Yeah, we got here about three hours ago,” he squinted one eye comically, crossing his arms. “She’s about halfway there, now I think.”

“Wow she’s progressing a lot faster than we did,” Eddie comments, it taking you far more than three hours to get to five centimeters.

“It would be ironic wouldn’t it, if they had the same birthday?”

“Irony is one word for it,” Dylan chuckles. “My girlfriend asked for ice chips about eight minutes ago, and she is not patient, so I’m going to get back to it.”

“Let us know any updates, won’t you?”

“I bet my kid will be born before yours,” Dylan answers, only somewhat joking.

“Oh, you’re on, dude.”

As nurses and the doctor rushes around you, frantically assessing the baby while helping you with the afterbirth, birthing the placenta and ridding the bodily fluids that came out with the infant. Eddie cut the cord, watching carefully as the nurses quickly washed his newborn son off.

He’s simultaneously whispering sweet nothings against your cheek, how proud he is of you, describing your son’s dark hair, his little mouth opening as the nurse's hand gently washes it. “Did so good, baby, so good, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Is he okay?” You whisper, eyes half open as you stare up at your husband’s brown ones. “J-Josh, is he okay?”

Eddie knows exactly what you’re asking, making sure his limbs are working, that he looks healthy, that the nurses don’t look too concerned about their results. He can’t help but answer, “He’s perfect.”

Your favorite nurse, the one who got assigned after Eddie demanded it, brings him over swaddled in a hospital blanket and tucks him into your arms. The hormones and adrenaline overwhelm you as you stare at his face, selfishly grateful he looks just like his father, happily staring at the little button nose.

“I love you,” when you stare up at your husband, you’re expecting his eyes to also be planted on the newest member of the little family. Instead they’re shiny and planted on you, his expression drenched in pure love.

“I love you,” you sigh, leaning in for a sweet kiss. “He’s so perfect.”

“I fucking love you so much.”

The love fest eventually dies down, all the medical aides surrounding you finishing up and leaving the room as they steal one last glance at the happy little family.

You’re lost in your own little world when Dylan runs in, seeing the little addition sat on your chest. Eddie looks up to face Dylan dressed in a hospital gown and a hairnet. His face is lit up with the same joy as the room is filled with. “You wanna meet your grandson?”

Eddie nods, quickly stopped by his wife still lying on the bed sitting in the afterglow. “Go,” you insist, petting at the soft hair on your son. “Say hi for me.”

He smiles, placing a gentle kiss on your knotted hair, followed by his newborn. “Be right back.”

On the way over to the emergency surgery room Dylan explains that the umbilical cord ended up twisted around his son’s neck and they took Maya straight into an emergency C-Section. He sat with his girlfriend as they emptied the contents of her abdomen to allow the newest Munson to come into the world.

Eddie asked several times to make sure it was okay if her father in law, her boyfriend’s father, to go into a room where she is this vulnerable. Dylan insisted that she said it was fine and since Eddie was here for the birth of his son it would be cool for him to meet his grandson, too, within the same half hour.

Miraculously, after getting in his own scrubs, Eddie wanders in with Dylan as Maya is finished with her stitches. She’s still loopy from the general anesthesia, holding her newborn on her partially covered chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eddie asked, knowing how against visitors you were.

“Just come say hi to your grandson, Eddie,” Maya chuckles, passing up the newborn. “Meet Jace Edward Munson.”

“Edward?” Eddie laughs, barely holding the mist that comes to his eyes. “What?”

Dylan scrunches his nose, tilting his head to face the newborn now in his father’s arms. “You stepped up when she left. You were everything to me. You may have stolen a girlfriend, but that is small beans in the grand scheme of things, you know?”

“Jace and Josh,” Eddie muses, laughter bubbling up his throat. “God, they even sound like twins.”

Kayla smooths over the dress she wears, nervously looking around the classroom. Are there enough learning centers set up? Will the children like the home center she put together? Will there be any difficult teachers during her first year?

For the first time, she’s on her own, placed in the very class she had spent so long working toward, kindergarten.

Her little classmates with their parents, usually mothers, wander in with wide eyes, nervously holding onto their sleeves and looking around anxiously. She talks to each little one at a time, welcoming them and offering them many activities to distract them from wanting to stay with their parents.

One little boy doesn’t need much, or any, peeling off his father as he runs in, his shaggy brown hair rustling in as he bolts straight to the building blocks. His dad walks in right after, carrying his bag dressed in a leather jacket and acid wash jeans.

“Hi,” he sighs, sounding tired. “That’s Dylan.”

“M or H?” Kayla asks.

“M.”

“Dylan, can you grab your bag from your dad and put it in the cubby?” Dylan runs to grab his bag from his dad, shouting in slight frustration as he’s pulled in for a hug. “Yours will have an M next to your name!”

He listens, but doesn’t look back as he runs back to the blocks.

“I’m Eddie,” the father says, holding his hand out. “His mom, Brooke, will pick him up after school, uh, she’s a bit of a hardass, so just beware.”

Oh, goody. She gives him a strained smile, insisting she’ll be able to handle it.

Eddie and Dylan end up being one of his favorite pairings for the year. But when Brooke walked in, she knew it became a big deal for something as small as Dylan putting his book in the wrong pocket in his bag.

Kayla got along great with Eddie, as they turned out to be the same age. They saw one another around the school as Dylan got older, even became someone Dylan could rely on for a maternal figure when his parents ended up divorcing in fifth grade.

About twenty one years after initially teaching Dylan, she’s a veteran teacher in her own right, having a monopoly over classroom #3 as she continues to be the answer for dozens of individuals when asked their favorite teacher.

She sits in her lumbar chair that her coworkers raised the money for the previous Christmas as she finally is able to look over her newest class list. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she came across 9th and 8th from the last name, two boys with J initials and the last name Munson. She’d been wondering if she would ever have the pleasure of teaching Dylan’s boys, or if he decided to skip town like most of his classmates.

Their birthday right next to their attendance names indicated they had the same birthdate, so she was safe to assume she would have another set of twins. If they were anything like Dylan, they would be a fun sort of challenge for her, that she was sure of.

On the first day the following fall, she keeps an eye out for her former student, keeping in mind it could very well be the mother that decides to drop them off.

As she’s helping a particularly shy child settle into her classroom, she notices a parent helping their kid out of the wind breaker they’re wearing. As soon as the little girl is settled she goes to them welcoming them. She immediately recognizes the parent. “Dylan!”

“Oh, Miss. Thompson! I didn’t realize you were still teaching!” He sheepishly admits, looking at the plaque now containing her married name.

“I am just married, now,” she answers, answering him the same way she would a student out of habit. “Now, who do we have here?”

“I’m Jace,” the little boy answers shyly, brown hair of this father but stark green eyes.

“Well, Jace, would you mind finding your name at one of the cubbies for me? I think you’re put right next to someone named Josh,” she tells him, watching for any recognition of the other name she thought was his twin.

“Oh, sweet!” Jace exclaims, running with his Pokémon bag.

She gets up from her squatting position, her knees far too achy for doing it continually like she still is. “So, there’s another Munson on the class list, would you know anything about that?”

Dylan chuckles, sighing. “Well, about that–” Dylan is interrupted by a little boy with dark hair hugging him, exclaiming his name. “Hey, Josh, we were just talking about you!”

Josh laughs, tugging on Dylan’s arm. “Is Jace here?”

“Yeah, he’s playing with the dinosaurs, if I know him.”

“Cool!” Josh runs straight off, meeting his supposed relative at the play carpet.

Kayla turns around in confusion, questioning what just happened.

As if answering her, in comes another familiar face, holding a bag that looks comically small compared to his tall stature. “Ah, Kayla. I was wondering if you were still here.”

“Eddie!” She greets him, giving a very frank hug. “I have to admit, I am very confused.”

“That’s okay, you wouldn’t be the first,” Eddie comments, crossing his arms. “Me and my wife had Josh at the same time Dylan had Jace. They’re assholes, they like to gang up on adults, but don’t let them intimidate you, they can’t with their adults anymore, so they try it on teachers.”

“Takes a lot more than that to intimidate me,” Kayla answers, looking back at the boys who gained ownership over the carpet with dinosaurs and cars. “I appreciate the warning, though.” She looks back to her old friend, seeing the smile lines on his face, still carrying his son’s things. “I’m happy you found someone, though.”

“Thanks. His mom will pick him up after school,” Eddie tells her, going to the cubby with his kid’s name on it. “She’s not as bad as Brooke, so there’s no worries, there.”

“Alright, can’t wait to meet her.”

Eddie and Dylan share a look, one that Kayla misses as she starts to welcome in a few new classmates.

The bell rings for lunch for the rest of the elementary school and end of day for the kindergarteners. Mrs. Franklin, or Miss. Thompson, as Dylan knows her, helps all her students with their backpacks and jackets. It’s one thing to manage five-year-olds, it’s another to get them to stop wrestling and help them simultaneously.

The Munson boys are certainly no help, Josh trying to stick his finger up Jace’s nose, pinning him down on the dirty floor as Jace wiggles underneath him. Kayla wished Josh would stop telling Jace he’s his uncle and he has to listen to him, that way she wouldn’t have to hold back her laughter so hard.

“Okay, Mr. and Mr. Munson, break it up, your parents will be here any minute now. Get up.” They both switch their glances up to her, eyebrows raised over wide eyes. “Get up.”

They roll their eyes, Josh reluctantly getting off Jace slowly and helping him up. Slowly but surely, parents start to pick their kids up, both Munsons waiting for their parents anxiously. You wonder in with your youngest, a little three year old by the name of Stevie. She holds onto your pointer and middle finger anxiously, eyes darting around at the unfamiliar noises and faces.

Your son is seemingly nowhere to be seen, usually seen with his counterpart but you can’t see him around the crowd of parents kneeling with their kids and asking how their day was. The teacher, someone both Dylan and Eddie insisted is the best in the school, approaches you kindly to ask which kid is yours.

Before you can even answer Josh runs into you, happily glancing up at you as he wraps his arms around your legs. “Hi, baby,” you greet him, kneeling down as you pet his sweet face.

You miss the peculiar look Mrs. Franklin, or Kayla as Eddie referred to her as, gives you. Surprised to say the least that the Mrs. Munson she has yet to meet is so young. Her brows furrow even further when Jace notices you, yelling, “Grandma!” as he also runs for a hug.

“Were you boys nice to Mrs. Franklin today?”

“Of course!” Josh smiles, and you squint through his bullshit.

“Well we’re gonna make sure to be nicer or we’re gonna have to lose our tablet privileges, won’t we?”

You get back up, smiling at their grumbly faces. They never listen to new adults, it was a field day at their first day of preschool. One glance to their teacher’s observant face told you all you needed to know. “Eddie didn’t warn you, he?”

“No, but they did have a peculiar look on their faces when I mentioned meeting you. Should’ve known better, with those two,” you tilt your head, curious at what she meant. “Seriously, your husband needs to tell you more. I taught Dylan when he was in kindergarten.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, somewhat surprised. “That’s really cool! Were you surprised to see Eddie wi–”

“With another kid,” she interrupts, laughing, “yes, I was. I’m happy to see that he found someone else, Brooke, was, well, she was not a nice person.”

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of your husband’s ex-wife, this being the first person she meets outside Eddie’s inner circle to having even mentioned Brooke. “So, I’ve heard.”

“Hey mom,” you hear behind you, you shove the owner before you even see him, rolling your eyes.

It’s very recently become a silly habit of Dylan’s to call you mom, due to your son asking why his brother calls his mom by her real name and not mom like he does. After the best attempt at explaining Dylan has a different mom who is no longer around, Josh is still confused and insists that you still act like his mom, so therefore, are Dylan’s mom.

It was awkward at first, but now it’s a little inside joke. If you were told when you first got together with Eddie that Dylan would be referring to you as a maternal figure, you probably would’ve hit them on the head for fucking with you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you tease back, mocking his twisted face expression. “They were apparently giving her a hard time today.”

“Of course they were. You know we can ask one of you to switch classes, right?” Dylan asks, an aura of authority in his voice.

Their eyes go wide, even though it was a threat in their preschool room, they have yet to consider this. You didn’t want to resort to threats but with their shenanigans, it's literally one of the only things that will work.

“C’mon, your dad is making your favorite for dinner,” your shoulder cascades around Josh’s shoulder, telling him to say bye to his nephew and that he’ll see him tomorrow.

Two years later, Stevie shows up with her dark curls down to her shoulders after her father, giggling as she says hi to the teacher.

That was the last time Kayla taught one of Eddie Munson’s kids. Or, so she assumed.

The double doors to the high school flew open, big black boots echoing as the large leather jacket trails behind a slim torso. He takes the immediate left into the office, his presence large, with grey streaks leaking into his roots and an angry look on his face.

The kind administration lady looks up to his expectant face, the curiosity quickly melting into confounded terror. “Can I help you?”

“Apparently Stevie Munson is in the office right now?” Better be a damn good reason for peeling me away from one of the only moments I have left alone with my wife, he thinks, eyes observing around the office.

“Yes, she is, uh, are you her–”

“Her father, are you going to let me in the office or do I have to let myself in?”

The surprise that fills her features would be charming if Eddie wasn’t so fucking annoyed. He’s used to the assumption by now, but for the moment he just doesn’t have any patience in his body.

“You can go right ahead, Mr. Munson,” she peeps out, gesturing to the door marked Principal. Eddie’s not sure why he even asked, or how he had the foresight to ask, first. He’s surprised, honestly.

The door opens to face the school principal, his daughter and a boy sitting two seats away from her nursing his face with an ice pack. “Mr. Munson, welcome in! Have a seat.”

“No thanks,” Eddie answers, polite, but curt. He looks at his daughter, “What happened?”

She opens her mouth to answer but is interrupted by the bald principal, “I didn’t ask you, I asked her. What happened?” He directs his attention back to his daughter.

She smiles at him, the same sweet smile his wife bares. “This guy touched my ass under my skirt, so I punched him in the face.”

Eddie’s brows raised, teeth gritted as he sends a daggers at the boy he is now aware assaulted his daughter. “I’m sorry?” He asks, now directed to the principal.

“So she says,” the principal says, eyes widening at how Eddie manages to look murderous. “Granted, even if Mr. Jackson did do that, it’s not a good enough reason to assault him. She will be suspended for two days.”

Eddie laughs, loudly, shaking his head at the gall, the fucking nerve. This principal is extremely lucky it was him who answered his phone and not you. “Really? My daughter got sexually assaulted and your reaction to her defending herself is suspending her? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Mr. Munson, if you could please calm down and have a seat,” he starts, gesturing to the chair, yet again.

“Oh, I am calm. You don’t want to see me angry,” Eddie answers, the Hulk flashing through his mind. “You deciding to punish her tells me exactly why this little shit felt confident enough to lay his hands on her, to begin with. I just think about all the other girls he’s done this to, too afraid to speak up, I wonder how many times he’s done this with no consequence to feel confident enough to touch under a skirt. What the fuck is this place? No-tolerance bullying policy? Utter bullshit.”

“Mr. Munson, calm down before I call security–”

“Don’t make me laugh. Seriously. Don’t.” Eddie sighs, pinching his nose. “If you do suspend her, I will press charges against him and I will sue this fucking school. If you punish him, like you’re supposed to, take him off his team for the season, put him in detention for a month, I don’t care, something with fucking consequences, I won’t. You decide.”

He looks down at the little shit, whimpering as he still nurses the barely there bruise. “You better hope I don’t hear you doing this shit to any other girl in this school, or you won’t get into any college in the country.” He pauses, opening the office door to an audience. Maybe he was louder than he thought he was. “C’mon Stevie, let’s go get some fucking ice cream.”

When you heard about how your husband stuck up for your daughter like that, you got on your knees for him in the bathroom. That might’ve cheered him up a bit.

The sounds are familiar yet foreign when you wake up to the blindingly white room, the chatter in the hallway and some heart monitor beeping. Two people immediately come into focus, Josh, sitting at the end of the bed on his phone, Stevie sitting concerned by your head.

You moan, sitting up in your bed annoyed at the stark contrast of the back of your eyelids. “What the hell?”

“Mom!” Josh shouts, getting up and standing on the other side of his sister.

“Mom,” Stevie runs out of the room, calling for a doctor.

You look to your son, brows furrowed. “What happened?”

“You passed out at the grocery store. You fainted and you didn’t wake up until just now.”

Your brows raise, because you haven’t felt off even the slightest. The dizziness hit you out of nowhere, going from fine to woozy in two seconds and falling flat on your face. “How long ago did that happen?”

“Like twenty minutes? The ambulance got there pretty quickly,” he admits, turning his head to his sister and the nurse coming in the door.

“Mrs. Munson! So glad to see you awake. I’ll let the doctor know and he should be able to give your results,” she says, sweet smile as she turns away.

Stevie’s bottom lip is stuck out, quivering as she grabs the hand containing an IV line. You thought that was a bit much. “Stevie, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure, because I heard the nurses saying it’s not normal to stay out that long after fainting. What if you’re sick?”

“I’m okay,” you insist, watching both their worried faces. “Fuck, you called your dad, didn’t you?”

“Uh, yes! He would’ve killed us if we didn’t!” Josh laughs, leaning back in his chair.

As if summoned, your husband pokes his head in, his eyes wide as he walks in the room, hands out to you as his long legs take him to the head of the bed. “Fucking Christ.”

“Hi, baby,” you greet him, leaning into the forehead kiss that he gives you. “I’m okay.”

“Fainting in the fucking grocery store, fucking hell. My god, baby.” He looks over to his kids, “What tests have they done, so far?”

“Just a blood test, I think,” Stevie shrugs.

“They might do an MRI but that could take weeks of waiting.” Josh offers no comfort to his dad despite his best efforts.

“I’m okay, really.” You insist to all their worried faces. “You didn’t call anyone else, did you?”

“Uh, we called Dylan,” Josh says, wincing at your annoyed face. “And Jace.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, intertwining your hand with Eddie’s rough one.

The doctor doesn’t come as quickly as the nurse promised, but he comes within two hours. “Oh, hello, you have quite the visitors, don’t you?”

You shrug, rubbing his thumb as it anxiously rubs your hand.

“We have the results, inconclusively.” The air is tense, every one of the family seemingly expecting terrible news. “Congrats! You’re pregnant.”

You knew nothing was wrong, but this was not what you were expecting. You’re forty-two, Eddie is nearly seventy. You weren’t even sure he could still get you pregnant. You meet your husband’s eyes, sharing a bewildered smile.

In the meantime, shouts of disgust from your teenage kids fill the room, standing up with tense shoulders.

“Gross!”

“Ew! I didn’t even know you guys still did it! Oh my god! Ew!!!!”

You bite your lip, shrugging. “Are you wanting to be a father to a newborn at almost 70?”

Eddie smirks, leaning in for a kiss that makes your kids jeer again. “Bring it on, baby.”

Steve calls an hour later, concerned for the text his name sake sent him. When Eddie informs him, you’re pregnant, twenty years of karma hits tenfold.

When Steve and Jocelyn said they were pregnant with Eliza fifteen years after having Dustin, Eddie spent the pregnancy making fun of their oopsie baby. Asking if they knew what protection was, joking how they still had sex, telling them to keep it in their pants, the works.

Now, Steve was more than happy to return the favor. “A baby at 70, you old bastard? What was that you told me twenty years ago? God, I’m surprised you two still do it, considering how low Eddie’s ball sack must be hanging.”

“You wish you could see my ball sack, you asshole,” Eddie teases, laughing with you as you sigh. “You’re just jealous I can still keep it up, you geriatric bastard.”

Five years later, when Eddie and Kayla are older, he wanders into classroom #3 for the last time, holding his third son who ends up being notoriously clingy towards his older father.

It’s ironic to the both of them how Eddie has a son for both Kayla’s first and last year of teaching, keeping tabs on one another for the duration of forty years.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, letting Tommy down and dismissing her questioning look. Don’t wanna talk about it.

By the time Tommy is 18, Eddie is too old to give a shit, wondering constantly what Wayne’s opinion will be when he ends up knocking on heaven’s door.

When you got into your sixties, Eddie was full of gratitude, thankful that you will no longer be confused for one of his kids despite his actual kids all calling you mom. He makes fun of your vision, stealing his reading glasses constantly despite his constant insisting that you get your own pair.

Despite the smile lines by his lips and his eyes, the sunspots decorating his skin, you still stare up at him like you did when he was forty-seven.

Your lives were forever intertwined from the moment you saw him, from the moment he saw you. He lies down in your bed next to you for the millionth time, his hand caressing your side, pressing kisses on whiskered lips, it doesn’t occur to you to ever be anything less than woefully in love with him.

———————-

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fairysluna · 5 months

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INVISIBLE STRING | Chapter 4: you must like me for me.

New Girl!AU — A disastrous break up led you to them; three guys living in a huge apartment and in need of a new roommate who helped with the way too expensive rent.

MASTERLISTㅤ | ㅤSERIES MASTERLISTㅤ | ㅤPHOTO CREDIT

PAIRING - Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY - the unexpected presence of Aegon in your room brings the so desired moment of him finally seeing you as a friend. However, you were never good at giving advice and it all ends in a big mess.

TW/TAGS - cursing, body dysmorphia, mentions of blood, insecurities, this might be considered as a slight chubby!aegon, make out session, mentions of nudity, slow burn, friends to lovers, things get heated but nothing happens. If something is missing pls let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE - hi everyone, do you remember this fic? lmao. i know it's been MONTHS since i posted sth for this story, but well, i finally got the inspiration to write this, so this came out. I promise to be fully dedicated to this fic bc it's time i finish this already and bc im excited for it!! now im on vacations so i guess I'll have more time so... thank you if you waited for this fic, and thank you for reading!!🤍

WORD COUNT - 4.6k

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ english is not my first language.

When you finally entered the loft your right hand was holding three files filled with tests for you to grade while the other one was carrying your bag and the keys of your home. You quickly scanned the living room to see if someone was there in order to greet them, but it was empty and messy as usual; leftovers of pizza and a half empty bottle of Coke soda in the center table. “It must've been Aegon”, you thought.

With a sigh you walked towards your room, worrying not to drop anything from your hands and thanking the gods as you saw the door slightly open. You kicked it, accidentally hard enough to make it smack against the wall behind it, and as soon as you looked inside the room, your eyes widened in surprise and all the things that were held by your trembling arms fell around the floor.

Aegon was standing in the middle of your room, shirtless and in the middle of flexing his muscles right in front of your mirror. He noticed your presence immediately, and he ran towards his shirt that was laying on your bed and covered his naked chest with a wild expression remarkably printed on his now red face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, breathlessly.

"This is my room!" you quickly replied, ignoring the thousands of papers that were now scattered on the floor.

"Weren't you supposed to arrive at six? It's four pm!" Aegon rapidly put his shirt back on.

"We- they let us go home earlier because it's the school's anniversary- what are you doing here?" you spoke, stammering and interrupting yourself. You were still a bit taken aback with this whole situation.

There was a slight moment of doubt in Aegon's mind that was quite evident for your observant eye; he looked away from you as his arms crossed in front of his chest to cover himself even when he was no longer exposing himself. You arched your eyebrow, silently insisting on an answer or some kind of explanation; two days ago you could have sworn he did not like you, but now seeing him standing in your room in such a condition made you overthink everything.

However, before you could think about questioning his lack of words, Aegon sighed loud enough for you to hear the embarrassment and resignation, and soon a mumble followed.

"You have a mirror," he replied.

His response did nothing but confused you even more. A frown appeared on your face, one small gesture that Aegon might have misinterpreted as an angered one if he hadn't known you enough.

"A mirror?" Aegon nodded.

"You're the only one who has one in the bedroom, and-"

"What about the bathroom?" You interrupted out of pure curiosity. "And Aemond has one too."

"Jace has been taking a shit for hours and Aemond forbade me to enter his room since what happened the last time." You were about to open your mouth to ask about it, but he was faster. "Don't ask," he warned you, and you pressed your lips together, remaining silent. "Listen, just forget this. I'm gonna leave right now, and we'll pretend this never happened. Okay?"

He started to walk towards you in order to cross the doorframe behind you. He passed right next to you, and for some unknown reason, your body decided to act before your mind could even process what was going on. Before you even noticed, your hand was wrapped around Aegon's wrist in a grip that was surprisingly strong. Aegon froze right in the spot and the first thing he did was to watch your hand, to then lift his face and lay his deep, lavender eyes on you.

Your jaw clenched, unsure of what to do since everything seemed to be happening strangely fast. The situation was confusing, and it made you act out of instinct leaving you standing there beside him, with just a few seconds left to say something before it turned into something awkward and weird.

Aegon, who would naturally and instinctively reject other people's touch, did not even attempt to push you away from him; he just waited until you removed your hand from his wrist. His reaction was quickly excused by his own mind, thinking that it was only because you took him by surprise.

"Uh…" you muttered, still trying to process what to say, "if- if there's something troubling you, you can tell me, you know? Maybe it's something I can help with."

He just shrugged, trying to make it seem unimportant.

"Not really," he said, leaving the room afterwards without saying another word.

You sighed, resigned to only be seen as his roommate and not as a friend. You tried not to think about it while you kneeled down to pick up the files and papers that fell from your hands when you entered your room, because you did not want it to let it bother you.

But, when you managed to put all your things on your desk, you turned around and saw Aegon standing in the doorway with arms crossed and a defeated look on his face, which had a slight pinkish tone that you would have found adorable in another situation.

"Actually, yes," he started, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, as if he was scared of someone else listening to the conversation. "I kinda need help with something… I- uh, well, you are a girl so you probably know about this stuff, so…"

It was a difficult task for you to hide the emotion that lightened up your face after hearing his words, finally seeing the perfect opportunity to bond with the guy that has been avoiding you for weeks.

"Of course," you replied, trying not to speak too fast. "I can help you with anything."

"Alright." He nodded, looking down at the floor as he seemed to be putting some order to his words before they left his mouth. "So, the girl you saw the other day, the girl in the bar, remember?"

"I knew you liked her!"

"Well, I just want to bang her, but that's one way to put it," Aegon shrugged after his explanation, while you pressed your lips. "The thing is that, I think she's super hot and gorgeous, and way out of my league, and-"

"Oh, Aegon, you are handsome too!" You interrupted, and he quickly started to look impatient.

"Yeah, but that's not the point," he said, exasperated. "The thing is, the last time that I had sex, the girl I was fucking- uh… well, she said something about my body that really took me off."

"What did she say?" You curiously asked.

"She kinda made fun of it," he replied quickly, as if he was embarrassed.

Your eyes softened immediately after, and your first instinct was to touch him to give him support; however, halfway there you remembered he did not like those gestures, so your hand ended up in the air and seconds later you put it back. Aegon's breath was caught in his throat as he saw how your hand was so close to his skin.

"I'm sorry, Aegon."

"And now I can't get naked in front of this hot girl, even when I really want to!" He cleared his throat, and his tone suddenly changed, now being more angered rather than sad. "I just want to get laid, but I can't! This chick cursed me or something."

"You're not cursed," you said, trying to comfort him somehow. "Listen, you need to work on your self confidence, and-"

"And how do I do that?"

"Do what?"

"How can I work on my self confidence?"

You frowned, "I don't- I'm not sure how-"

"Oh come on!" He raised his voice with exasperation. "You're a teacher! Aren't you supposed to give guidance to your students?"

"Well, my students don't usually ask for sexual advice from their teacher so…"

"You need to help me, please," he pleaded, and you could clearly see the despair in his eyes begging you to say something useful.

You knew you could not fuck this up, not when it was probably the only chance you could have to bond with him after days trying to make him look at you as a friend. Inside of your mind you tried to remember anything that could work in this situation, all those psychology seminars you attended during your college days were coming back to your mind as you thought of an answer.

"Well, you can… try to stand naked in front of a mirror, maybe after you shower, and see the qualities of your body that you like the most."

“Would that work?”

“It might.”

“You sure?”

“Uh… Yes.”

He stood there, silently looking at the floor as he nodded. He muttered something that sounded like a ‘thanks’, and then he slowly turned around. He was visibly embarrassed, he was feeling too vulnerable to look at your face after opening up to you. Of course you immediately noticed, and, as you tried to ignore it, you found some words that you thought he might need to hear.

"Aegon," you called him, and he froze with one foot out of the room and the other inside. He turned around to look at you over his shoulder, and you sighed, "just remember that every person has his own concept of beauty, and only because someone didn't appreciate yours, it doesn't mean other girls won't… We are all beautiful under the right pair of eyes."

He clenched his jaw, gave you a small –almost unnoticeable– nod, and he left. You stood there for a few more seconds before you returned your attention to what you were supposed to be doing. The papers that now were on your desk, were waiting for you to grade them. Just the mere thought of reading through them made you sigh with exhaustion.

It was going to be a long day.

A knock on your door got you distracted enough for you to stop doing your task. The pen dropped from your hand as you turned around to find Jace with a soft smile on his face. You smiled back at him.

“Hey,” you greeted him.

“Are you too busy?” He asked, “I've brought some Chinese food to eat for dinner.”

“Let me finish revising these papers and I'll be there in a minute,” you said as he nodded.

He was about to leave, but then he returned. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he started, “the bathroom lock is broken, so you need to knock before you get in, just in case we're inside.”

“Are you guys gonna buy a new one?”

“Yes. Aemond will go tomorrow after work, we'll divide the costs afterwards,” he explained.

“Oh, alright.”

“Now, hurry or the food will get cold,” he said, and then left the room leaving the door open.

You managed to finish the paper a few minutes later, and then you went to the bathroom to wash your hands before going to eat with the rest. You did what you were told, and you knocked on the door. You waited a couple of seconds, making sure no one would reply from inside before you finally opened the door.

As soon as you opened it, you saw Aegon standing in front of the mirror and staring at himself. Naked.

“Oh, Gods!” you yelped. Your eyes involuntarily taking a quick look over him.

Damn.

“What the fuck?!” he screamed, covering his nudity with both of his hands and wildly blushing.

“Oh gods, I'm so sorry-”

“Get out!”

You acted so quickly that your legs tumbled against each other on your way out. The loud sound of the door closing behind your back echoed in the empty hall as you covered your mouth with your hand, a nervous giggle escaped from your lips before you could even try to hold it back. Your eyes were wide open, and your mind tried to process what you had just seen; Aegon fully naked.

Aemond and Jace soon appeared in the hall as they heard the screaming and the door slam. You looked at them with your breathing fast and sharp, staring at them as if you've seen a ghost. Their curiosity peaked.

“What happened?” Aemond asked, visibly worried.

“Uh- I…”

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and you started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

“I just- I need to- uh… wait for me a bit, I'll- I'll be back in a minute.”

The heat on your cheeks was impossible to ignore as you locked yourself in your room, completely ignoring their questions; you were panicking. You felt dumb, and you closed your eyes frustrated knowing that you screwed it up. You invaded his space and now he will, inevitably, put some distance with you. Now you just wanted to bury your face in the pillow out of embarrassment. How were you supposed to talk to him now that you saw him in all his glory?

And, oh gods, there was glory.

You were ashamed of what just happened; or maybe you just felt embarrassed because you couldn't help but blush at the memory of his body.

The pillow between your hands went straight to your face, muffling the groan that you let go as you fell onto your bed. Gods, you were fucked.

That very same early morning, after finishing their shift, Aegon was supposed to make his first move on the girl who had been in his mind. It was already closing time, the bar was empty at 5am and there was only him and Ceryse. She would occasionally glance at him hoping he would notice that she wore her tightest shirt for him. However, Aegon was busy trying to cheer himself up, trying to forget about that stupid chuckle of yours that still echoed in his mind, haunting him like a fucking ghost.

He had heard you, and –of course– his insecurities made him think the worst.

He was so nervous. It was almost embarrassing how sweaty his palms were; the situation was out of his control and he hated it. He was barely able to focus on his task, absentmindedly cleaning a glass with a cloth as he tried so hard to ignore her presence just to not feel so anxious. His shaky hands failed, and his plan to go unnoticed was unsuccessful; the glass slipped from his fingers and broke into pieces on the floor.

Ceryse widened her eyes and she immediately went to help him, which only made things worse for him. In a desperate attempt to keep her away, he kneeled on the floor and started to pick the glasses with his bare hands, causing small cuts all over his fingers as he did. Low curses and soft moans left his lips as the pinching pain appeared, and Ceryse —as lovely as always— tried to stop him by grabbing his hands and forcing him to stand up.

“You fool,” she mumbled, looking at the bleeding cuts on his fingertips. “You hurted yourself.”

“It's not a big deal-”

“Let me get the emergency kit, don't do anything,” she went to the manager’s office and came back in about a minute later with a red and white box in her hands. Aegon was breathing heavily. He had never felt so insecure.

With the help of a forceps, she started to remove the tiny pieces of glass from his fingers. Aegon would hold his breath, not being able to control his heartbeat when he had her so close to him; he was able to smell her perfume and see her cleavage. He knew he had to be excited, he knew he had all the reasons to enjoy that moment, but you and your stupid giggle refused to leave his mind.

“There,” she murmured as she finished. “Nice and clean.”

Aegon looked at his fingers and noticed how small drops of blood were forming in the tiny cuts. Ceryse took a small tissue and gently tapped on the wounds, cleaning them. Aegon had his lips slightly parted, stiff as a rock as he was almost scared to move. He cursed again, and she softly smiled at him as she finished.

“There you go,” she said, “clean and healed.”

“Uh… Thanks,” Aegon replied, giving her an awkward smile.

She remained silent for a bit, looking at him up and down through her long, blonde lashes. She was visibly flirting with him, but he seemed to be ignoring her. Ceryse had been waiting long enough for him to make the first move, so she now took advantage of their situation; both of them completely alone in the closed bar, about to finish their night shift. She wasn't going to let this opportunity go.

“Are you done playing that game?” She asked. Aegon frown.

“What?”

“I've noticed the way you look at me, Aegon…” she murmured. His breathing was caught on his throat when she started to slowly unbutton her blouse. “I want to let you know that… I've been wanting the same thing for a long time.”

“What- I- uh… what?”

She giggled, and it was the sexiest sound he had ever heard, yet it wasn't enough to suppress your goddamn laugh. A small ‘fuck’ escaped his lips before he could hold it back, and her hands were pressed on his thighs as she leaned towards him. Aegon hummed, cheeks burning red as he felt so exposed all of the sudden.

“We're alone now,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his jaw. “We can do it right here, right now…”

“I don't know if- If it's a good idea…”

She looked shocked.

“Is Aegon Targaryen rejecting an adventure?” she teased him. “Who are you?”

“There's cameras.”

“I turned them off when I went to the office.”

“What if someone walks in?”

“That would only make things spicier.”

“What if it's Nick,” he said, referring to their manager.

“He won't come until 10am.”

He ran out of excuses. The eagerness was visible in her eyes as she bit her lip.

“I'm done waiting, Aegon…” she murmured.

“Ceryse-”

She silenced him with a kiss, and he widened his eyes. He was unable to concentrate on whatever was happening at that moment. His heart was racing, his breathing suddenly ragged, and his hands still shaking as he tried to hold her waist.

Aegon tried to focus and enjoy this. He closed his eyes and followed the kiss, but things got a bit more complicated when she daringly grabbed one of his hands and put them in her rear. Somehow, he felt uncomfortable, so instead of giving her a squeeze, he moved his hands to her hips.

Fuck, he wanted to run and hide.

When her hands attempted to go under his shirt, he squirmed away from her touch, still managing to keep his lips pressed against hers. She giggled, thinking he was just playing hard to get, but as she repeated the action, the outcome was the same.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured against his lips, starting to feel the awkwardness of the situation.

“Just- wait… Ceryse, wait.”

“Don't be shy now…” she said, biting his lip. Aegon hissed.

“I need you to wait- shit,” he said as he squirmed away from her touch once again.

She leaned back, taking a few steps backwards before she looked at him. Her hands immediately went to her chest, to cover the skin that was exposed thanks to her unbuttoned blouse. Her cheeks lit up like fire as she realized how uncomfortable Aegon was.

“Shit…” she murmured, feeling deeply ashamed. “I thought- I thought you liked me. I'm sorry…”

“I do, I swear, I- Ceryse!”

“I'm so sorry, Aegon.”

“No, Ceryse, wait-”

She turned around and left, picking her bag from the counter and leaving the bar in a hurry. Aegon stood there, frozen in his place, his purple eyes filled with confusion to what had just happened, and once the realization hit him like a truck, he brushed his hands against his face and sighed.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Back in the apartment, you were sitting drinking your morning coffee before going to school. You were staring at the news on the TV before you heard the front door slamming close. You jumped in your place, looking confused until Aegon appeared in your sight; your cheeks immediately getting warm as the image of his nudity came back to your mind. However, the expression on his face made you forget about all the embarrassment, and you worried instantly. You hurried to stand up from the kitchen table and go towards him, he groaned as soon as he noticed you were getting closer.

“Aegon, are you alright?” You asked, but there was no answer.

He walked past you, going to the kitchen and ignoring you completely. Of course that your preoccupation did not let you notice such a gesture.

“Hey, is there something you want to talk about?” You insisted, trying to look over his shoulder. “I know what happened might be a little embarrassing for you, but I just want you to know that I barely saw anything!”

Aegon ignored you again.

“Aegon, come on,” you said. “I can help you with anything-”

“Can you?” He interrupted you as he finally turned around and acknowledged your presence. “Because last time you helped me, you cause me another fucking trauma!”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, closing his eyes while he debated inside his mind whether to tell you what had just happened or just keep it to himself. But you were annoyingly insistent, and he just wanted to be alone all day.

He always wanted to be alone when things went wrong.

“You fucked me up even more!” he exclaimed, making you lean back and your lower lip trembled, feeling awful. “I couldn't fuck Ceryse because your stupid laugh was replaying in my mind over and over again,” he confessed. “Like a fucking reminder that my body sucks!”

“Aegon, I didn't-”

“You fucking laughed at me!”

“I didn't laugh at you, Aegon!” you raised your voice, matching his tone. “I was nervous, it was an awkward situation. I saw you naked! Of course I would get nervous!”

Aegon went silent, pressing his lips in a thin line as his eyebrows furrowed. You took a step closer, but he took a step back. You sighed defeated, knowing that all the progress you have made to become his friend had easily vanished in a matter of seconds.

“Look,” you said. “I'm sorry, Aegon. I never meant to make you feel bad.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, as if a simple apology would fix it,” he said, pettily.

You both stayed in silence for a few seconds, your lips pressed in a thin line as you tried to come up with a solution to your problem. It was certain that you did not have too many options, and Aegon was not giving signs of having an idea to fix it either. That is why you panicked, and your hands went to the hem of your shirt and started to lift it up.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he asked, scandalized.

“I'm getting naked so we can call it even,” you explained, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“I don't want to see you naked! What is wrong with you?”

“Well, then what do you want me to do? I can't get inside your brain and take my laugh out of it.”

“I certainly don't want to see you naked!” he said.

“Alright, I'm sorry, okay?!” you quickly said, looking at his eyes. “I'm sorry that I laughed, and I'm sorry it made you feel bad.”

“That doesn't-”

“Shut up,” you interrupted him. “You are not ugly, you're hot. There, I said it! You have a handsome face and a hot body, and even though you're so grumpy sometimes, your face compensates for it. You know why? Because you are handsome, you idiot.”

“I-”

“I wish I could go with that girl and beat her fucking ass for what she did to you. I wish!” His eyes widened, he was slightly flustered. “She didn't know what she had. You're a good catch, Aegon, and if you don't start to believe it for yourself then no one will.”

You left the room in an overly dramatic walk, leaving Aegon behind with his eyes wide open and his cheeks red. His breathing, somehow, was fast and unsteady. His blood was running quickly down his body as he cleared his throat and turned around to worry about his breakfast. Yet, your words had left a feeling in his gut which felt quite nice.

Aemond suddenly walked out of his room and stopped when he saw Aegon standing in the middle of the open kitchen, staring at the unbaked bacon in the pan. He was weirded out by his brother's strange attitude.

“What's wrong with you?” Aemond asked.

Aegon woke up from his trance and shook his head.

“Nothing.”

He didn't sound too convincing.

“We made a pact, Aegon,” he reminded him, going towards the coffee machine and pouring some of it on a cup. “You are not allowed to sleep with her.” he whispered those last words just to make sure you wouldn't hear it.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed.

“Just a reminder,” Aemond shrugged, sipping his coffee while Aegon finally turned on the stove.

“Shut up.”

It was 6pm when you arrived back in the apartment after a long day at school. You were dragging your feet through the hall and towards your room, noticing that neither Aemond or Jace had arrived yet, and Aegon was probably in his room. It had been a long day, and the only thing that you craved was a nice and warm shower before going to bed. It was a need.

After your discussion with Aegon in the morning and the tiny bug in your chest that was making you feel guilty all day, you needed some time to relax, to stand beneath the warm water and let it wash away all the stress of your body. So that's what you did.

You took off your clothes the moment you stepped into the bathroom, then quickly got in the shower, feeling the warmth wrapping your body. Your shoulders immediately relaxed and you saw all your troubles vanished in that instant, you let yourself sigh.

Your mind went blank and all you could feel was the warmth and comfort the water produced. It was lovely, it made you forget about all the issues and troubles.

When you finished, you stood there for a bit longer, enjoying the last moments of peace before you would cross your path with Aegon's.

What you did not expect was that, at the very moment that you opened the shower curtain, Aegon opened the door.

And he looked at you.

Naked.

You screamed as your hands went to cover yourself as much as you could. Aegon's mouth dropped as he stared longer than he should have, his pale cheeks turning red as he swallowed hard.

“Aegon!” you yelled his name.

Only then he seemed to react, because he immediately muttered a small ‘sorry’ and then he closed the door. You immediately took the towel from the hanger and you covered yourself, breathing fast. You almost slipped in your way out of the shower, silly movements as you were still trying to take in what had happened.

That goddamn door lock.

Then, in the middle of the silence, you heard him speak.

“Well, I guess we’re even now, aren't we?” he joked on the other side of the door.

“Shut up!” you said, between nervous laughs.

He laughed it off too, and that sound made you smile wider as your cheeks got warm.

It was true though; now you can finally call it even.

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moralesmilesanhour · 6 months

Text

if you believe in me - 02

summary: word gets around fast. wc: 2256 a/n: got too impatient soooo here we are lmao. I'll still be writing ahead I just wanted to post this one lil thing. warning for like one vague sex joke prev next

Your hands swung between the two of you until you reached the bottom steps of Visions Academy. The moment you began your ascent, little gasps and whispers followed not far behind. Miles’ hand began to squirm, as if trying to weasel his way out of the vice grip you had on it as you tugged him along. The reason why dawned on you when you entered the main hall:

Everyone was staring.

Scanning the clusters of students gathered in front of the escalators, you noticed that some of their mouths had fallen open in shock. You turned to glance at Miles, who was staring straight ahead with his brows knit together with worry.

“Miles, what’s wrong–”

“Y/N?”

Tianna’s voice interrupted before you could finish the question. The short, dark-skinned girl ran up to you for a quick hug, the smell of her vanilla body mist wafting off of her uniform.

She pulled away to give Miles a once-over, narrowing her eyes at him. He nervously avoided making eye contact.“I see you didn’t take my advice, as always.”

“Well, we met up this morning,” you shrugged. “It worked out.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Miles remarked quietly.

“I know,” your friend shot back as she tugged your arm to pull you away. “A moment, please?”

He raised his hands in surrender, and you gave him an apologetic smile as you let go of his hand. You followed Tianna until you reached a spot where he’d be out of earshot, where she stopped abruptly. She spun around to face you with her arms folded.

“Y/N…girl.”

“What? He said we were a thing when I asked him–”

“You had to ask him?” Tianna sighed, massaging her temples. “At least I know you weren't lying about the kiss.”

Your mouth fell open in offense, making her burst into laughter.

“Girl, fuck you! You thought I was lying?” you yelled as you gave her a playful shove.

“It’s Miles Morales! I don’t think he’s even had a full conversation with anybody since ninth grade. How you got him to kiss you is beyond me.”

“What does that mean?” you laughed. “You’re mad disrespectful.”

“That’s not the point, though. He didn’t even text you first.”

“Maybe he just forgot my number.”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know a lot about him!”

Tianna raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Name three things you know about him that he told you himself.”

“Easy,” you began counting on your fingers, “He doesn’t like wearing his glasses, he likes rock music, and, um…”

You paused, racking your brain for something that you didn’t have to find out from asking around. Tianna’s lips were pressed into a thin line, wholly unimpressed. She sighed again.

“Yeah, okay, sis–”

“Wait!” you interrupted in a last-ditch effort to defend yourself. “He told me he’s actually not a gang member like people say, so that’s a plus, right?”

She saw the desperate look on your face and shook her head.

“Look, just…be careful, alright? If you not gonna listen to me, at least do that much,” Tianna pushed you gently back in Miles’ direction just as the morning bell rang. “Now go to class.”

You looked back at her one last time and smiled. “Thanks.”

Miles looked up expectantly as you jogged over to him. “So? What was that about?”

“Girl stuff,” you lied, sticking out your hand. “Walk me to class?”

As soon as you made it up the escalator, Miles mentally prepared himself to make his way through the crowded hallway. He wasn’t used to being at school this early, and it seemed that–judging by the sudden rise in conversation and exaggerated ‘oooh!’s as you passed by–neither were his fellow students.

Your homeroom wasn’t too many doors down from his, so he gently let go of your hand just outside Ms. Keene’s classroom.

“Aight, see you in calc–”

“Um, sir,” you stopped him before he could turn around, with a hand on your hip. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Miles’ eyes narrowed, then widened in understanding when you placed a finger on your cheek. He glanced towards the clusters of kids gathered around their lockers.

Many were still watching out of curiosity, looking for something to talk about come lunchtime. He turned to you and smiled apologetically.

"Later."

"Imma hold you to that, Morales!" you called out behind you as you finally entered the classroom.

“Good morning, miss L/N,” Keene greeted with her eyes still glued to her laptop.

Every morning, she’d project the list of morning announcements onto the whiteboard then spend the rest of homeroom checking emails. The class was allowed to chat idly until the bell rang, just as long as it didn’t get loud enough to catch the attention of any administrators.

“G’morning!” you replied.

You had just sat down when a nasally voice asked suddenly, “Did you get Callahan’s homework done on time?”

Startled, your head snapped towards the girl sitting next to you, Caitlyn. As always.

She leaned forward with her palm cradling her chin, pale and freckled face beaming with anticipation as if gossiping with a friend. The girl hardly knew you.

“Um, yeah, it…wasn’t too bad,” you replied tentatively. “You?”

“Girl, I was struggling,” she answered with a wave of her hand. The phrase came out oddly, like she was reciting lines off of a script, and it made you cringe internally. “Spent nearly the whole night on it.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and nodded. Just before you could fully turn away, though, Caitlyn jumped to another topic.

“So you and Miles are like, together, right?”

“...Yup.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation.

“So what’s he like? Outside of school, I mean.”

Grinning to yourself, you almost spilled every detail: the glasses, his dimples when he smiled–like, really smiled–and jazz music. But she didn’t need all that.

“He’s…cute. Real smart-ass, though.” you answered while fiddling with the lead in your mechanical pencil.

Caitlyn snorted, “No shit. I heard he used to give Ms. Jones hell in AP Calc once he got back from his, um…break.”

Your expression soured at that last bit.

“You got anything specific you wanna ask me?”

“Have you two…? Y’know.”

She made her eyebrows jump up and down, making it uncomfortably clear what she was implying.

“No,” you replied coarsely. “And if we did, I wouldn’t be tellin’ you.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly cut off by the bell.

You rose from your seat and swung your book bag over your shoulder as quickly as possible before making your escape into the hallway.

Three more periods of that to go. Lovely.

A chorus of boys whooped and hollered when Miles passed by them on the way back to his locker.

“Yo, is that my son Miles? On time?”

The voice calling out to him belonged to Jeremiah, a shorter boy with dark skin and newly-cut hair after spending the entirety of ninth grade with a short, unstyled afro. A tiny grin played on Miles’ lips. They used to hoop with some of the Brooklyn Middle kids after school, before everything happened.

It wouldn’t kill him to say ‘hi’.

“I’m always on time, y’all just early!” he called out over his shoulder, even doing the little salute his dad would always do when he dropped Miles off.

This lift in his mood would be killed swiftly by third period, when Hakim ripped out one of his airpods. Right at the bridge of one of his favorite songs, too.

“What you listenin’ to, Morales?”

Miles glared daggers into him, but the boy was never really one to take a hint.

Hakim went on, “Huh. Didn’t pin you as a seventies guy.”

He returned the earbud, ruffling dark ringlets that nearly covered his eyes. It used to be much shorter, until he grew it out in eighth grade and soon realized that girls preferred it that way.

“I’m full of surprises,” Miles muttered darkly, examining the airpod between his fingers. He made a face at it, and decided they were unfit to stick back into his ears before storing them in their case. “Sumn you need?”

Hakim opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Mr. Callahan’s booming voice:

“Hold the side conversations, please.”

“My fault, sir,” Miles replied. He didn’t need to rack up behavioral infractions at ten in the morning.

The middle-aged man paused his scribbling on the whiteboard and turned around. He stared directly at Miles like a child about to pull a prank.

“Actually, Morales, since you’re so talkative today and–well–actually here,” he pointed with the dry-erase marker in his hand, “Why don’t you help us calculate the total charge of this particle?”

…Right.

Miles had almost forgotten that, technically, he was still Callahan’s ‘star student’.

He’d never forget when the former university professor pulled him aside after a particularly difficult class and told him:

“Y’know, I’d actually have you teach this class on some days if that was allowed. Like a high school T.A., but without the salary!”

He’d forced a polite laugh, then. The man genuinely seemed to believe that he’d told a good joke.

That’s the thing about teachers who believe in you: they won’t just ignore you sitting in the back of the classroom with your airpods in.

Miles gave Callahan a pointed look as he took the marker from him and got to work. If it could even be called that.

Inventing sneakers that defied gravity in his room made this all look like basic addition. Most of it was just a series of conversions, nothing that a bit of mental math couldn’t solve. He boxed his answer then looked up for approval that he didn’t need.

“Correct as always, Morales. You may return to your seat,” Callahan raised an eyebrow, “Quietly. Not all of us are as adept as you are and do still need to focus.”

“You got it, boss.”

Miles handed the marker over before shuffling back to his seat. Feeling the classroom full of eyes burning into his clothes, he considered waking up late on purpose from now on if it meant avoiding them.

Shortly afterwards, the class transitioned into his least favorite section: partner work. Miles could usually get away with ignoring whatever poor soul had been seated next to him, but some were a little too…persistent. Asking him to solve every problem for them as if he alone could bring their grades up.

The thought reminds him of someone, and a lopsided smile spreads across his face.

“Yo, who got you smiling like that?”

He snapped out of his contemplation and turned reluctantly toward Hakim.

“Nothing,” Miles answered sharply. “Nobody.”

“It definitely ain’t nobody,” Jeremiah piped up from the seat behind him. Since when did he take this class?

“We all saw you this morning, bro, who is she?”

“Yeah, spill!”

Miles inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose before responding, “Y/N.”

“That’s your girl? Since when?”

“Since…”

Since three and a half hours ago.

“Since last week.” He nodded curtly.

“That’s a relief,” Hakim remarked. “We thought you were gonna be a hermit for the rest of your life.”

Miles snorted. “Don’t rule it out just yet, the year's not over.”

Jeremiah piped up again, “Off-topic, but have you finished this packet yet? This shit kinda blowin’ my mind right now.”

“What do you think?”

Lunch rolled around, and Miles had never rushed upstairs faster. He was not in the mood to have the counselor pick apart every word that left his mouth and drone on about his “journey with grief”.

He was fine. He just needed to be somewhere where no one was fucking watching him.

Miles wouldn’t get that, though, because you were sitting in his spot, eating half of a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Took you long enough,” you said before taking another bite. He grinned and shook his head.

“And what business you got up here?”

You set the sandwich down and tilted your head. “You think I forgot about this morning?”

Miles sat down next to you with a grunt, and crossed his legs.

“That serious, huh?”

“Very. Might keel over and die without it.”

He leaned in and planted a warm kiss on your left cheek. “We can’t have that, now, can we?”

Just before Miles could put any more distance between you, you gently placed a hand beneath his chin. It’d been a while since you’d had a good look at his face.

Faint freckles dotted across his cheeks, a tiny scar through his brow that you don’t remember being there. He squinted when the sunlight hit his face, and for a second his left eye looked like it was a duller shade of brown than the right. Almost green.

“Y/N? You–”

You pressed your lips against his before he could finish the sentence. Miles remembered to tilt his head and relaxed into the kiss as your hand moved to the nape of his neck to toy with one of his braids. He still didn’t know where to put his hands.

When you pulled away, he couldn’t look you in the eye. It made you giggle to watch his pupils dart to and fro, not knowing where to land.

Miles took a deep breath to collect himself, but the exhale came out a quiet laugh.

“Ion know if I’ll ever get used to that,” he half-whispered.

An impish smile spread across your face. “You wanna practice?”

“Whoa. Relax, ma. This is a public space.”

#earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #moralesanhour

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

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Related to my prev post:

I don't give two shits if Bruce is written like a bad dad if it means we get good writing for everybody else since i think minorities are more important than a white cishet male nepotism baby unlike his butch lesbian counterpart who's judaism is an actual fundamental part of her character and since he's been written as abusive so consistently over the years it's in-character anyway

Dick can be both bi/pan and demisexual and there's more evidence for the latter than the former so making him be sexually loose is aspec erasure and mspec stereotyping and he dosen't have a thing for redheads,he has a thing for black women and to me the only guy he seems to like romantically is Roy and that adds on to his demisexuality since they're childhood best friends

'Catholic guilt Jason' is a shit headcanon that misses the major and critical part of him being Red Hood that he didn't feel the slightest bit bad about killing people and the point of his redemption was learning remorse,afrolatino Jason isn't based on stereotyping but him filling out so many black and latino cultural aspects and if any hcs for him are stereotyping it's the one that he's a slut because he's a very handsome and hot and cute goth punk man

Tim is perfect the way he is and dosen't need power ups or to get 'punished' for the oh so horrible crime of being a realistic teenage boy,he's not JUST huge a loser or a super cool dude but both at once and it's bad writing and fetishistic to ignore his wide range of relathionships that consists of mostly of women to make him a 'guys guy'

Stephanie is heavily autistic and bpd-coded so she's far from a 'normie',much less an 'it girl' but people see blonde hair and blue eyes and throw away everything else about her because that's all she's worth to them or call her an abuser and a pick me just like they do irl bpdtistic women and she's also canonically pastel/indie punk and a Team Mom but gets her presentation switched to basic and made out to be a womanchild instead

Cass had a million times more moral conflict than Jason ever did,would never in her LIFE wanna be feminine even in the chinese way and would be butch in it instead,turning her scattered speech into sign language is ableist not unlike(but not on the same level as)changing Babs' type of wheelchair disability and she'd be a better Batman than any male character in existense

Duke is only a golden child in the sense he has a yellow motif and is as disruptive and authentically quirky as his siblings,We Are Robin is a better team than the canon Outlaws,his powers are cooler than any Al-Ghul ones you could come up with,he has more femme energy than Tim does and Carrie Kelley ain't shit and only gets brought back to replace him because DC is antiblack

Damian's introduction mentality was a result of not only child abuse but also psychological grooming to get him to dehumanize himself and all his bigoted comments are explained either by him being like 12 or his writers trying to demonize brown people and anybody who thinks he's a bad person is a super-sized pissbaby with no sympathy for kids of color,shipping him with Jon is making a bisexual man into a ped0phile and Jay is good even if aging Jon up wasn't and he should be friends with Maya,Suren,Nell,Colin,Kathy,Maps,Tai and Miles,Gwen,Peni,Pavitr,Hobie and Margo from Atsv and Nico and Hazel from Pjo instead of Billy Batson or Danny Fenton or ANY Mcu characters

Talia is super hot but should be drawn in accurate arab clothes instead 'sexy assasian gear'(not that these two can't co-exist but you get what i mean),her personality is extremely rich and her stories are mega interesting,she's a good mom to Damian and literally never 'took advantage of Jason' seeing as That Scene In Lost Days was decanonized by it's writer who said it was ooc for her on his part,she should've been a mom figure to Stephanie in her Robin Days too since they would get along and she deserved her own run where she takes over Lexcorp to transform it into a force for good and become Superfam-adjacent to free herself from having only male connections

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ronwestbreeze · 1 year

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TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART TWO : CHAPTER TWELVE

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader

summary: in which it is the year 2159

word count: 2.4k

author's note: hello hello! TYWA part two has arrived! now updating is going to be a bit different for this. i'm thinking posting each chapter once a week will be what I will do from here on out that way I can have time to write future chapters whilst you all read the one's I have already written! just remember, don't demand me to post, it doesn't help with motivation or make me want to keep writing it! anyways, thank you for the patience! and without further ado, part two!

AO3 | prev | next

“I keep having these dreams. About this girl. Every time I saw her, it felt like I knew her for years. Like she was my best friend in the whole world. And I couldn’t imagine a life without her.”

“Tell me about these dreams.”

“Well…they always start with fire and…”

“What’s wrong? Baby girl, what is it?”

“You’ll think I’m weird, Daddy.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I promise.”

“When I wake up, I’m sad. Like I’ve lost someone. And it feels so heavy…Daddy, I hate it!”

“Sssh, ssh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you, alright? I’ve got you.”

“I miss her, Daddy. I miss her so much.”

“Miss who, baby girl?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t even know her name…”

Year 2159

It had been five years since the RDA were exiled off of Pandora and Dr. Chloe Parker was still trying to find her footing on this planet.

Before the battle, she had been well into the late Dr. Augustine’s Avatar Program. Trained and studied learning to control her own avatar and then using her time to explore all of Pandora’s plants and herbs. And it was interesting, learning about all the medicines here, the potential use for them.

Then the battle at the Tree of Souls happened. Killing dozens of wildlife, many humans and Na’vi alike. It was a sad day to say the least. But after Jake Sully took over as the clan leader for the Omatikaya Clan and exiled the RDA off of Pandora, things began to change for the better.

Dr. Chloe had been one of the humans allowed to stay on Pandora, mostly because she didn’t contribute to the war that struck the planet and because Dr. Max Patel vouched for her and some of the other scientists and avatar volunteers. Now she had spent her time continuing to explore all of Pandora, working with the Na’vi in different clans to study their ways of medicine and perhaps teach them some of the stuff humans do, even though she knew they would probably never use it.

For the past few months, Dr. Chloe, and her small research team, took their avatars and their next journey to the Olangi Clan. A very nomadic clan that worked very closely with the Omatikaya so their home wasn’t too far from the former’s. Their clan leader, Akwey, had allowed them to stay and start their research there as long as they didn’t pose a threat to his people and were respectful of the lands and their ways. Which wasn't a difficult task, especially when there were no more military men flanking the planet anymore.

But as of recently, Dr. Chloe had been requested to retrieve the Tsahik of the Omatikaya Clan, Mo’at since the Olangi’s Tsahik had died in the battle against the RDA. So, instead of researching like the rest of her team, she had been made into a messenger, going back and forth from each clan speaking of something called Eywa…Dr. Chloe wasn’t really too spiritual to care much of who this Eywa was. But if it made the people happy and content, and kept them from shutting down her research, then Dr. Chloe would take one for the team for now.

On the other hand, she wasn’t entirely too comfortable leaving her very first patient alone so much. A patient very important to her research.

When Dr. Chloe found Mo’at, she was with her daughter, Neytiri if she could recall correctly. Dr. Chloe never really had a conversation with the woman—mostly because of her obvious distaste of Dr. Chloe’s presence—and today was no different. Once she arrived in her avatar form, Neytiri hissed and walked away. One of her children, a young boy, followed after her closely.

“Why has Akwey sent you now, Chloeparker?” Mo’at greeted her while crushing up what looked like herbs in a small wooden bowl. Dr. Chloe’s Na’vi wasn’t perfect but she could understand a lot of it after years of listening to both Dr. Augustine and the people talk expertly in it.

“An elder died yesterday.” Dr. Chloe informed her, stuffing her hands into her shorts. “Akwey wishes for you to perform the ceremony.”

Mo’at hummed, not looking up from her work. “One day, he will have to come to my daughter as she will be the next Tsahik of the People. And I will finally rest.”

“Let’s hope that day isn’t soon then.” Dr. Chloe commented with a thin smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your daughter doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“You are Sky People. Of course she doesn't like you.” Mo’at stood with the bowl and finally looked at Dr. Chloe. “I am not too fond of your people either.”

Dr. Chloe could understand that in a way. But she was a bit tired of being grouped with the people that tried to destroy Pandora and take it over. Then again, she really couldn’t blame them. If she were in their shoes, she’d hold a grudge too. It didn’t matter if they were the same or not. That anger, that resent, it was uncontrollable and rightful. Dr. Chloe could do nothing but shrug.

“Touché.”

“Mmph.” Mo’at then handed her the bowl. Dr. Chloe took it, surprised at the sudden gesture. “I understand you are a doctor among your people. This can be more useful than whatever technology you Sky People insist on using.”

Chloe held the little bowl delicately but frowned, “The technology is not all useless, you know. It does help sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” Mo’at pointed out. Dr. Chloe tried not to roll her eyes.

There was small movement behind Mo’at and Dr. Chloe did a double take. She hadn’t realized they weren’t alone until Mo’at had stood. It was a little girl that didn’t really look like Na’vi. Actually, when Dr. Chloe looked at her closely, she realized the little girl looked awfully similar to someone.

Before she could wonder just who the little girl reminded her of, her earpiece suddenly beeped, alerting her that one of her team members was calling her from back at the Olangi Clan.

Dr. Chloe excused herself before answering her earpiece, “This is Dr. Chloe—”

“You need to get back here fast!”

She blinked in confusion at the urgency in her fellow researcher, Simon's voice, “Why, what’s happening?”

There was a pause, “…Okay, don’t get mad but we decided to take her out of cryosleep—”

“WHAT?!” Dr. Chloe covered her mouth when Mo’at gave her a disapproving scowl and the little girl watched her curiously. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice before continuing, “Why the hell would you do something like that—she’s not even stable enough to take her out—”

“Just let me explain!” Simon interrupted with an exhausted sigh. “We connected her to the machines we’ve been working on for months ever since we first started working on her, remember?”

“Those aren’t even ready yet!” Chloe hissed into the earpiece, walking out of the tent where Mo’at and the little girl still were. “Simon, what the hell were you thinking—”

“It worked, Chloe.”

She went quiet. Her eyes wandered aimlessly around the forest, unsure if she had heard him correctly. When Simon called her name again she finally responded in a hushed whisper, “You’re not shitting me, are you? Y-Your saying—”

“It worked, Chloe, it worked.” She could practically imagine the growing smile on his face as he said this. “She could wake up at any moment now. But with her condition, it’s not exactly permanent and I don’t imagine she herself would be happy with the results, but they are supporting her. They're keeping her alive until we know how to deal with the heavier wounds.”

This was definitely a development. This had been something she had been working on for two years now, hearing that it worked, on a person no less? Chloe couldn’t help but start packing up her things and leave.

“I’ll be right there! Don’t do anything without me!”

And with that, Chloe rushed back toward the Samson she had arrived in, ordering the pilot to take her back to plains.

There was a lab within the tall trees the Olangi Clan lived in. Chloe had it built when she first arrived in the plains. Even though she technically wanted to build one in one of the trees, having a lab hanging from a tree wasn’t exactly the safest position. So, they went with having it on the ground.

Plus, if they had done it in the tree, then the lab wouldn’t be as spacious as they needed it to be.

When Chloe arrived back, she came out of her link bed with Simon waiting for her.

“How is she?”

The two walked side by side with each other, leaving the link room and walking down the long hallway. Simon carried a holographic pad in his hands as he spoke, “She’s stable, still has yet to wake up, but things are looking good so far. The doctors want to start on the severe wounds right away.”

“How exactly bad are these injuries?” Chloe found herself asking. Really, when they first saw the patient, they had already decided to quickly put her in cryosleep with how badly injured she was and freeze her wounds before it became any more lethal to her body. Chloe hadn’t exactly seen it for herself but she’d always kept hearing about how bad it was.

Simon frowned, “Third and second degree burns, a broken rib, and a her lungs might've collapsed, I'm not entirely sure.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I hear she was a lot worse and the doctors managed to work on some of the less lethal burns, but she’s not exactly out of the woods yet.” Simon sighed as they stopped in front of the closed door. “We have twenty minutes with her before the doctors get to work.”

Chloe frowned, staring at him incredulously, “What should we say to her if she does wake up?”

Simon shrugged, “Tell of the situation, maybe fill her in since she’s missed basically five years of her life, and…I don’t know, comfort her the best we know how?”

“Comfort is not either of our strong suits, Simon.”

Simon rolled his eyes before finally opening the door.

What did death feel like? Was it this bright? This cold? Were you supposed to feel so heavy, so numb as if you couldn’t feel your body. Maybe your consciousness was floating above your body. There were stories like that, you remember reading about people who have died for a few seconds and were able to see their body outside of themselves.

Okay, maybe you weren’t actually dead. You may not have known what it felt like but you were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be able to recall a memory as if it were another day. Then again, your body didn’t feel like a ton of anvils had fallen onto it and was pinning it down, preventing you from moving.

You hadn’t realized your eyes had been open until a shadow came into view, blocking some of the light above. Your vision was blurred, really you didn’t know when you had woken up or how long you had been staring up at the ceiling. Yes, that was definitely a ceiling.

Either hell was some bright room or you were somehow still alive.

Muffled voices echoed into your ears. You hadn’t realized, at first, that the voices were coming from the shadowed heads above you. It was like using your ears for the first time, like you were a newborn baby. Hell, your eyes felt like they hadn’t been used before.

Soon, you started registering the voices.

“You think she fell into some sort of vegetative state?” This voice belonged to a woman.

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. Coming out of a cryosleep can be a little much.” This voice belonged to a man. Neither of them were familiar to your groggy mind. “We might need to get the doctors.”

Soon your vision began to clear.

“Wait, hold on…” The woman above you whispered. She was staring directly down at you, eyes wide with wonder. “I think she’s…”

Your eyes then moved to the second head, the man, when he came back over and appeared in your vision. And like their voices, they were both unfamiliar to you. Even in your foggy mind, you could not recall a single memory where it included these two strangers. Wait, maybe the woman. Back before you had stopped going to Hell’s Gate, you might’ve seen her a few times in passing.

Wait.

Hell’s Gate.

The bombs.

The ship crashed.

You should’ve been dead.

“Dr. L/N?”

The woman’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, you refocused your gaze on her and she grinned excitedly. “You can hear me? Understand me?”

With great difficulty, you nodded. Or maybe your head shifted slightly similar to a nod, you didn’t really know.

“Holy shit.” The male muttered in amazement.

The woman continued grinning, “Welcome back, Doc.”

Before you could ask her where you were, before you could question who these people were, it suddenly hit you.

And it really hit you. Worse than a pile of anvils. More like an out of control train that crashed right into your body and dragged you along the way.

That was the type of pain that struck your body once your senses had begun coming back. This pain was unimaginable. It was unlike anything, unlike any pain you had ever felt in your short life.

This was worse. This was what death felt like.

You didn’t remember much of what happened after your chest jolted forward from the shock of the pain. All you saw was the two that had been standing over you, rushing away, shouting for what sounded like help. And in the next few seconds you kept blacking out a few times. The world went in and out. Every sound clashed together around you. Most of the pain, you realized, was coming from your waist, hell, just your entire upper body.

You wanted to scream. But all that came out of your mouth was choked gasps, barely any words or cries. You were crying. You were crying. Yes, you were sure of it.

There was a sharp prick against your neck.

And in the next second, it was like you were falling out of the world and back into the blackness.

Falling.

Eventually, you would hit the ground…

And Jake Sully would wake up.

#to you worlds away #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake #avatar jake sully #jake sully #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2 #finally!!!

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

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dad!pantalone.

summary. what would the regrator be like as a father?

trigger & content warnings. child abandonment (not really; pantalone just hands his kid over to arlecchino rather than raising them himself).

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst. pantalone & child!reader, arlecchino & child!reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next

author's thoughts. i'm starting to post more on tumblr than i am on quotev ummm.... whoops! /lh i was drafting a series based on this concept, but i honestly don't know if it'll ever see the light of day, so instead, i will ramble about my thoughts! pantalone is nearsighted in this brainrot because i'm nearsighted and therefore can write from experience.

"he's evil" i know but hear me out!!

i think pantalone would be a good dad, but not at first.

no, no, at first he hands his child off to arlecchino to raise in the house of hearth, because there's no way in hell he's just... abandoning them. the thought alone makes him sick. the thought of his own little one potentially being exposed to harm and poverty like he was? unacceptable. forbidden. he hates that thought.

even if he's handed them off to the knave, she finds it awfully suspicious (and quite annoying...) that he's always visiting them. constantly. all the time. doesn't he have things to do..?

"i thought you had no interest in caring for them, regrator," she'd huff, recalling the funds he donates that are specifically designated to be used on them alone (which are always enough to fund the entire orphanage for at least a month), "do you want them or not?"

he doesn't have a conclusive answer, really.

by the time they're five, they already know very well who he is and why he's always around. well... perhaps not why he's always around. they don't really understand it. they just know that he is their father and that their mother is nowhere to be found. arlecchino said that it's complicated, why he's always around but doesn't seem to want to keep them.

becoming of age to start training was easily the worst thing to happen to them.

they were smart, as evidenced by their excellent grades.

they, however, were not strong.

repeatedly, they were embarrassed in front of the harbingers (those who made time to be there, anyway). over. and over. and over. it's humiliating. they hate it.

at least they aren't being made fun of, but they know very well that's only because everyone knows their origins.

still, it's not their fault that they just... aren't that strong.

it doesn't help that they can't see anything clearly if it's more than a few inches away from their face.

...

of course, pantalone notices this. they have his eyes in more ways than one—both in terms of color, and in terms of the fact that they can't fucking see. he gets it. perhaps that's why they're struggling so terribly?

then again, he isn't all that physically strong either. he wasn't blessed by the gods, nor was it easy for him to defend himself. it was his influential power that earned him his position.

so, when their training is over, all of the other children scurrying off out of fear of the harbingers, pantalone lowers himself to their height with a kind smile.

(he's a man of prestige, but for them...

he supposes he can tolerate being so close to the floor for a few moments.)

he's gentle when he brushes the hair away from their face, whispering sweetly, "would you like to come home with me, little one? this life isn't suited for someone of your bloodline."

all they can do is nod breathlessly.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #fatui x reader #fatui x you #arlecchino #pantalone x reader #fatui harbingers #pantalone x child reader #genshin x reader #genshin x child reader #genshin impact x reader #arlecchino x reader #genshin platonic #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact x reader

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nogacheloveka-blog · 2 months

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The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №9

next 10

prev 8

This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

I encountered an organization called "To Be Determined". It inspired me to create this drawing. In this organization, there are 6 people who trade highly nonfunctional and peculiar items. I immediately imagined it as a shop run by lost Temmies (Flowey and Bob) from different AUs within Backrooms.

I noticed that there aren't that many prepared posts about bad guys in the backrooms - maybe two or three more. A couple of weeks ago, I started a new job and haven't been drawing much.

I think these posts about bad guys will be once a week, on Saturdays.

Please wish me inspiration =)

The new rooms were similar to Level 0 in their structure. Clusters of office rooms, with and without office furniture. But now there was a pleasant addition in the form of windows. The closed door of the previous place, as before, disappeared behind them when they passed through it. Nightmer seemed calmer without the negative water supply. (Again, being able to clearly distinguish the auras of his wards was definitely pleasant)

After some wandering, Nightmare sensed another presence nearby. Within seconds, everyone heard a distant

“HOOOOY!”

This exclamation certainly wasn’t what Nightmare wished to hear, yet if these were Temmies (or something like them), then they might provide information — even though their brains seemed similar to confetti made of narcotic flakes. At the same time, the place where the Tems might live cannot be too dangerous.

Following the sound, the group found themselves in a medium-sized office room. Soft bean bag chair (Error felt nostalgic for Antivoid) and strange objects, presumably for sale alongside an old cardboard box, occupied one corner. Something resembling Flowey danced as if trapped in an animation loop near merchandise, becoming slightly animated upon seeing customers. Two monsters dressed similarly to Temmies sat nearby. Bob stood apart, his expression frozen, suggesting he had eaten Temmie Flake.

As it turned out later, two more monsters from this group were missing, busy gathering supplies and goods for the little shop. They all seemed to come from different AUs.

Here were also computers, many of which were operational. They tried to access the Undernet and various sites. They couldn't. Instead, they entered a sort of knowledge base. A local Wikipedia or something similar. The browser already contained open tabs, but they couldn't open new ones - there was no network connection. Someone had left the browser open, he took the equipment with him. And, oh, it seemed they had found gold while looking for copper: by reading the text, they understood that the author of the notebook was making notes from this knowledge base. This was easy to understand by the style. There were about a hundred open tabs: items and entities, but mostly levels. From the amount of new information, their heads were spinning. Some levels were described in an unusual way, requiring attention to details to extract additional information. And nothing about exiting from here. There were levels-dead ends, levels-traps, but nothing about a real exit from here.

However, on the other hand, it became evident that there weren't many people in the Backrooms, and they moved individually due to the nature of how many levels was work. Almost everything here seemed to be trying to kill them. But it appeared that not even the dimension-killer could do anything against their DETERMINATION.

Temmies struggled to provide clear answers regarding humans; instead, they simply told strangers, "Temmies too pieople," and strangers treating them like quirky yet harmless folks. How could such a system work? Perhaps these humans were slightly mad. Or perhaps very tolerant towards others' differences. Either way, avoiding contact would be wise.

The presence of monsters in these places brought some comfort. The Bad Guys weren't the only ones who had a rough time. That was good. But the fact that some other monsters they encountered were distorted beyond recognition - like the Smilers - raised serious concerns. It was nerve-wracking.

While Error, Cross, and Dust were exploring the local equivalent of the internet, others used the suddenly freed-up time for themselves. For example, they tried to trade. They all had some amount of monster gold and items to exchange, which Temmies agreed to accept. Horror bought a "Strange Amulet," sweets, and some food to diversify their diet. Almond Water was certainly good, but it was getting boring, and they never tried to cook Greasy Marshmallow. Considering the amulet useless for himself, Horror gave it to Dast.

Strange Amulet ATK: 10 DEF: 10 Made from butterflies in the stomach. It smells of hopes and dreams turned to dust. Allows forming new friendships.

Killer bought numerous boxes of Temmi Flake and Flowey Seeds, several paint cans, and countless small parts of mechanisms along with some mysterious steel scraps, strange red shavings - it seemed he enjoyed them. He also tried planting grass, but Horror stopped him.

Temmie Flake Restores 1–10 HP and sanity *represented by cut yellow wallpaper soaked in Almond Waters

Flowey Seeds Restore 10 HP *represented by seeds coated in Greasy Marshmallow

Nightmare didn't particularly need any products, but somehow excitedly Temmies looked at his tentacles (too much positivity) and offered a discount. Eventually, he purchased a notebook containing maps of certain stable levels from them. Unfortunately, those maps were unsigned. Since he wasn't sure if damaging traders would be beneficial, he decided to go the honest route this time around. After all, merchants held a special status across worlds.

The group stopped at this location for a couple days to record all the information from the site that could be useful to them. It turned out that sequential exploration of levels was only possible up to level 12. Beyond that, entrances and exits from levels led randomly, and any movement scheme resembled a pot of spaghetti. But in theory, they needed to explore this entire pot to find a way home. There were levels that looked like a one-way ticket, empty, unexplored, strange, surreal, remote, and destroyed. Overall, they could work with this.

Temmies didn't mind their company. Soon returned two departed collectors - underfell!Temmie and Temmie in "Temm Armor". They were surprisingly normal compared to the other merchants and shared some information:

People here can also be dangerous just like Fallen Child of Dungeons;

Many who live outside bases and settlements are mad to varying degrees especially those who haven’t drunk Almond Water for long;

Monsters can safely trade with lone humans;

People at outposts and bases usually think rationally and may attack if they realize you are not human. But even with them, you can negotiate.

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer belongs to RahafWabas Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Error belongs to CrayonQueen Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

#bad sanses #cross sans #dust sans #error sans #horror sans #killer sans #nightmare sans #the backrooms #au #undertale au #bad guys in backrooms #bad sans gang #art #underverse #undertale #level 4 #temmie #swap!flowey

52 notes · View notes

bluehwale · 1 year

Note

okay so idk if you’re taking requests or not, BUT BUT BUT could u please write ateez as chb demigods (kind of like the jongho one), the scream i let out when i read demigod on the post was a bit embarrassing tbh

also hi new follower 👋 gonna go stalk ur masterlist/s don’t mind me :))

the rainbow thief | demigods! poly ateez au

02 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / prev / next

summary. eight demigods find themselves ecstatic over finally mustering up enough courage to let you know about their unbridled feelings for you, only to find a threat looming upon them; a rainbow thief that's set out to steal you.

or alternatively,

your best friends are oblivious to your reciprocating feelings.

pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)

word count. 3.1k

genre. pure crack, angst if you squint real hard until ur eyes close, tons of fluff, literally the dumbest thing i've written help, basically idiots2lovers, ateez are chronic simps to the point where it's hard to watch, borderline unhinged behavior, they are also himbos!

warnings. alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), cursing, not proofread sorry </3

note. hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for a long while and i'm so sorry it took so long to be posted (almost d worded bc of my assignments) anyways, i kinda added a spin on this req by making it a poly fic, i hope you don't mind! thankyou so so much for being my first ever request<3 hv a great day!! ily ^3^ ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated pls i need to improve my writing

masterlist

San thinks this is definitely a level nine code red.

To give you an understanding of San’s Catastrophe Indicator, here’s some scale to context; a level eight would be Wooyoung somehow finding out his deepest darkest secret— that he still sleeps with his plushies every night; and a level ten would be getting zapped on the ass by his dad’s lightning bolt (and potentially having to stay in the infirmary for a week). So yes, a level nine is alarming, if not, exceptionally lethal.

It’s been exactly 53 minutes and 46 seconds since San has been watching you enthusiastically converse with an unfamiliar boy who’s sitting a little too close to you for his liking. His heart aches at the way you throw your head back as you let out your endearing giggles and how you teasingly shove his arm while the boy looks over to you with a grin, probably proud of a joke he told that made you laugh.

(It has also been 53 minutes and 46 seconds since the pink haired boy remains frozen behind a tree— the perfect hiding spot, he mused— all the while trembling like a leaf as he struggles to resist the temptation of flying in your direction curled up as a ball to hopefully cannonball the boy off the bench beside you.)

San huffs, he won’t let this be! It’s supposed to be the special day where he and the boys finally let you know about their feelings, and he would rather backflip off a cliff than let this undeniably handsome, seemingly perfect, flawlessly flirty guy who looks like he jumped out of a popular romance anime seduce you!

He falters, however, when he sees you stand up and grasp the boy’s hand to rise along with you.

The poor boy’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he sees you inch closer to the blue haired boy, a pretty smile evident on your face as he then wraps an arm around you, pulling you close while whispering something into your ear that makes you blush.

This can’t be happening!

San’s hands turn jittery as he unconsciously moves away from his hiding spot, needing to get closer to you, his best friend that he’s been hopelessly in love with for years, but he can feel his heart finally breaking when you excitedly pull the boy into a warm embrace.

Snap!

Your head looks up to see San pausing his steps after accidentally stepping on a tree branch with eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. You innocently wave at him and San prays that the ground would swallow him whole.

He feels his hands grow clammy as he ungracefully dives behind a trash can to (unsuccessfully) hide himself from you and the unfamiliar boy walking together towards his direction. But of course, with the unmistaken pop of his pink hair, it’s hard not to notice him— especially for you.

“San!”

The demigod curses under his breath when he sees you in front of him and sheepishly stands up to meet your amused eyes. The blue-haired boy beside you stifles a laugh with an unconvincing cough and San thinks he hears the male mumble, “Oh, is this one of them—” before you elbow him on the stomach, cutting him off as he groans.

You pay no attention to the boy beside you as he doubles over in pain to clutch his gut, you turn to brightly grin at your best friend instead. “Meet Yeonjun! He just got here yesterday and, oh, he’s an Aphrodite kid! I think you both would get along pretty well.”

San feels his eye twitch. He tunes out your voice that rings throughout the air as you introduce him to your new friend.

A son of Aphrodite. Your new friend.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty and love.

His heart sinks into his stomach.

This might be even worse than a code red level nine.

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“There better be a good reason for San to drag me here in the middle of drafting up my Capture the Flag strategy plans.” Seonghwa, the brain and only hope of the group, crosses his arms and tsks.

The state of an emergency calls San and Mingi (an Aphrodite kid and the first San ran to for consultation) to round up everyone in the infirmary, an unfitting spot to hold their “emergency meeting” but the two boys couldn’t wait for Yunho’s healer shift to end. Mingi taps his feet anxiously when it looks like San’s unwillingness to speak due to his sullen mood means that he will have to be the one to break the news.

Ever the poster child of rationality, he slowly starts, “We think… _____ might be interested in someone.”

“You mean some people,” Wooyoung cackles, sipping his wine from an ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug as he gestures to his best friends sitting around in a circle. “There’s nothing to worry about, everyone in camp told me she’s 100% gonna accept our confession. They even think we’re all already dating.” The boy proudly smiles, taking another sip of his wine as his stomach flutters at the thought of you.

“She’s in love with an Aphrodite kid,” San blurts out.

Splatters of red wine burst out of Wooyoung’s mouth when San’s words finally registers in his mind, leaving him to stammer and gape wordlessly as chaos ensues with the rest of the boys.

“What are you talking about?!” gasped Seonghwa, any previous thought of his strategy plans immediately forgotten.

“But— but we were supposed to tell her today!” Yunho, ever in tune with his emotions, wails while his hands slap his face to cover his already leaking eyes. “What are we gonna do with the humongous bouquet I requested the Demeter kids to make last night?!” He reaches out a shaky finger to point at the flower bouquet and an equally large teddy bear taking up a whole corner of the infirmary.

Amidst the commotion, Mingi locks his arms around Yeosang who seems to have resigned from his body completely and looks like he’d willingly give himself up as lunch for any nearby sea monster. “Guys, calm down, maybe this is all just a misunderstanding—”

“An Aphrodite kid, you say?” interrupted Jongho, already rolling up his sleeves to relieve his bulging biceps from ripping his shirt apart. “What’s this guy’s name and what does he look like?”

“Jongho, you’re not killing anyone—”

“Mingi’s right,” Hongjoong sighs, eerily calm besides the smoke fuming from his nostrils and his eyes that glint devilishly. “Instead of killing him, making him suffer throughout his afterlife sounds much better, I’ll make sure my dad takes note of him.”

“That’s not what I meant!” interjects Mingi who, still grasping a Yeosang who’s ready to jump up and dash off into the ocean, shoots a desperate look begging for help to the eldest.

“Maybe he’s trying to seduce her into a pyramid scheme?” Seonghwa supplies weakly, brain racking to find any other reason to support the idea that maybe you’re merely close with this person as friends and not because you’re in love with him.

“And why the fuck would he do that?”

“We demigods aren’t immune to capitalism.”

“It’s hopeless,” counters San, shutting everyone else up. They look over to him with furrowed brows and trembling lips, one that matches his own. “You weren’t there– you didn’t see what I saw. She looked so happy.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ✺◟( • ω • )◞✺

The eight sulky boys toddle around mopily as they pick apart the romance-themed decorations littered around the hidden area you all claimed as your group’s private hangout place. They can’t help but feel dejected over the fact that you— their best friend who they’ve been in love with for years, like someone else.

“Thought I’d find you guys here.”

Speak of the devil.

Their heads snap to find you walking on the path of rose petals they prepared earlier today, dressed in a baby blue mini dress you reserve only for special occasions instead of your usual get up of the orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. An easy smile rests on your face as you greet your best friends and they can’t help but feel their hearts grow heavier at the sight (except for Yeosang who is too busy panicking over you possibly noticing the ‘We Love You _____!’ banner that is still on display).

“______, what are you doing here?” The glint in your eyes visibly falters at Seonghwa’s question, your excitement twisting into unbridled nerves that settles uncomfortably in your gut when you notice everyone staring at you as if you shouldn’t be here.

Word spreads crazy fast in camp and it didn’t take long for you to overhear about the surprise the boys had planned for you. Although it unsettles you that the boys might be upset at their spoiled attempt of surprising you, you can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of them liking you back after all these years of you believing that your feelings went unreciprocated.

So imagine your confusion when none of your best friends showed up to lead you to your surprise and that, after happily skipping all the way here, you find them hostile in your presence.

“Uh,” you trail off, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails as you try to gauge their reactions. “It’s just… I didn’t see any of you today except for San. I missed you guys.”

It seems like that was the wrong thing to say as the boys, to your confusion, suddenly broke in tears.

“You can’t say things like that!” Yeosang hiccups, bringing a hand to his face to wipe the steady stream of tears falling from his eyes and earning broken mutters of agreement from the other boys.

"Wha—What?" you stammer, surprised at their reactions. What’s going on?

“You shouldn’t say things like that when you know we can’t have you.”

“What do you mean? Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re in love with someone else!”

You pause. “Huh?” Any trace of your previous nervousness vanished, instead replaced with rejoicement at the thought of them being jealous over you with someone else. You restrain the urge to giggle.

“It’s okay, ____. We understand,” sniffles Seonghwa, clamping his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth who was clinging onto his arm while yelling: ‘NO, WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND!’ It took awhile for the eldest to eventually tackle the younger to the ground, suppressing him by placing his weight over him while Wooyoung continues to let out muffled yelps as he struggles. Seonghwa turns to you and offers a weak smile, the usual shine in his eyes nowhere to be seen. “We’re happy for you.”

You try to contain your amusement. “You are?”

“We are,” Yunho nods, hastily wiping away his own tears to hold both of your hands in his (you can distinctly hear Wooyoung’s muffled scream of ‘WE’RE NOT!’ in the background). “We’ll always be here for you. We’ll always be your best friends.”

“That’s gonna be a problem, though,” you chide lightly, feeling the smile you’ve been trying to mask creep up to your face. “I want you to be more than just best friends.”

It took a couple seconds for the sulky boys to register what you said and when they did, you’d think they’d won the lottery or something (you’re pretty sure Jongho leaped three feet up in the air).

“But what about that Aphrodite kid?”

You turn to Hongjoong in confusion. “What Aphrodite kid?”

Everyone turns to accusingly look at a certain pink haired boy.

San gulps. “Yeonjun,” he mutters. It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“...Yeonjun?” you burst into laughter, uncontrollable giggles escaping you from how ridiculous this is. “We’re just friends and he has a boyfriend. I was even talking about you guys all day to him!”

“Y—you were?” San stutters, already feeling the pointed glares burning on his back. “I—I thought you liked him…”

“I don’t,” you reassure them with a smile. “How could I when I’m in love with you guys?”

Mingi lets out a relieved scream, enveloping you in a tight hug to bury his face in your hair and inhale his favorite scent— the sweet smell of coconuts; you. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. We’ve been in love with you too.”

You take a peek from Mingi’s embrace to see the other boys celebrating; Wooyoung’s already chugging down a freshly opened bottle of wine while the rest of the boys are simultaneously doing tiny hops in a group hug and letting out excited yelps. Your cheeks ache from grinning too hard at how cute your boys are.

“_____! We need to go to the infirmary, we prepared something for you!” Yunho excitedly pulls at your arm, just remembering the bouquet and teddy bear for you, separating you from the blonde giant who’s now sporting a pout at you leaving him.

You and Yunho both merrily skip your way to the infirmary with your hands intertwined and pink dusting your cheeks, unknowingly leaving a pink haired boy to meet his doom.

“Aha, who would’ve thought that she’s not actually in love with another guy?” San forced out a nervous chuckle, slowly backing up from his best friends and wishing he could disappear just about right now. “No hard feelings right? Everyone makes mistakes—”

“Shut up. Come here.”

Not too long after, a loud scream rings throughout the camp.

(“That sounds so much like San, don’t you think?” you worriedly ask the boy beside you who’s dwarfed behind the huge teddy bear he’s helping you carry to the Iris Cabin.

“Nah, that’s not San.” Yunho calmly shrugs, his smirk hidden behind the gigantic bear plushie as he thinks of his own revenge against the culprit for his whirlwind of emotions he went through earlier today.)

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INTERLOGUE

BEFORE THE EMERGENCY MEET UP IN THE INFIRMARY…

“Mingi.”

“Huh?” The blonde boy in question looks up to see San barging into his room, looking as if he ran a marathon to Aphrodite’s cabin (which is exactly what he did). “How did you even get inside?”

San ignores his question. “You have a new brother?”

“Oh, Yeonjun?” Mingi nonchalantly asks, missing the way San’s figure goes rigid at his name as he returns to applying black polish on his nails. “Yeah, he just got here yesterday. Cool guy. What’s up?”

“I think _____’s in love with him.”

“What?!”

744 notes · View notes

babygirlispunk · 11 months

Text

Summer Fling - PART FOUR

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: fun in the sun gets interrupted but Pedro has something new planned for you...

Warning: 18+ MDNI, drug use, oral (f receiving), fingering.

Word count: 5.6k oops

A/N: as always ily a milly to everyone sharing and liking the story, I look forward to writing this and posting for yall so enjoy 🧡

PREV - MASTERLIST - NEXT

"Why are you dressed like Adam Sandler?"

Standing at the doorway Syria eyes you up and down, looking at your borrowed outfit and last nights hanging over your arm, boots in hand. Pedro let you borrow a pair of his shorts and tee along with a pair of slippers provided by his hotel. You insisted on wearing your own clothes but he felt bad about you going commando in a dress when your underwear somehow slipped underneath the egregiously heavy and low couch.

"Jesus, is this couch made of cement?" you strain as you try to lift it up. "I'm starting to think you kicked them under there on purpose."

Pedro, already having given up with the couch, is rummaging through his luggage. He pulls out a pair of briefs and waves them your way. "Would you like purple or red?"

Rolling your eyes and also giving up on the couch, you slump down staring at the sunny city. Listening to him shuffle around behind, you look out the window seeing other people in the buildings across and wonder if you should be sitting naked in front of a large window.

"I'll just wear my dress, as long as I stay up straight, no one will see anything."

You rest your head back and look up to see Pedro looking down at you through his glasses with a goofy smile before your view is muffled when he drops some clothes on your head.

"I haven't had much trouble here with paps, but just to be safe. I'm sure you'd rather be snapped looking like a little boy than flash the world." The clothes slide down your face, allowing him to give you a smooch. "As pretty as it is."

You scrunch your face at Syria mockingly. "You know why."

Entering your shared apartment you bee line for the bathroom, Syria hot on your heels.

"The sex must have been life changing."You look great for someone who was munted last night."

You stop in your tracks to face her. "Trust me, my head is pounding."

"So was this a 'hit it and quit it' sitch? The way you were dancing together, I wasn't expecting you back for a few days."

"Me too." you say apprehensively.

"Did you have to sign an NDA?"

"No. I'm gonna shower now."

You try to make your way to the bathroom but Syria is eager to get answers out of you and is blocking your way.

"Erectile dysfunction?"

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "What!?"

"He is older... it's possible..."

"SYRIA! He didn't fuck me!" you say aloud, frustrated.

Before you can further explain yourself, there is a knock at the front door. Simultaneously turning your heads, you look at the door wondering who your uninvited guest is.

"I'll explain everything later okay? I have to shower and get ready."

You rush to the bathroom, letting Syria answer the door. You hear muffled conversation over the running water. It must be the postie with another one of Syria's thousands of online orders.

Wrapped in your towel, you leave the bathroom to your bedroom only to see a curly headed guest on your couch conversing with your room mate.

"I can't believe you left him out there to boil in the car, it's already 30 degrees out there!" she fakes being concerned, a very obvious snicker on her face.

"It's okay, I had air con. I just needed to use the bathroom."

While Pedro is looking your way, eyebrows raised by your lack of clothes and wet hair as if he hasn't seen you naked already, Syria is bouncing excitedly in her seat and you can only glare at her like a mother silently telling her child off.

"Well it's free now. I'll be ready soon." you awkwardly point to the steaming bathroom.

Levering himself off your couch, he makes his way to the bathroom, not before pulling your chin with his finger and kissing you. Once the door is shut, Syria is of course ogling you.

"A lot to unpack there." she says smugly.

"I'll pack your shit up and throw it out the window if you don't kick back." you whisper so Pedro can't hear you.

She throws her hands up in surrender, giggling maniacally.

Once you've changed into something beach appropriate, shorts and a top, you say your goodbyes to Syria and head back to Pedro's rental car. As you're placing your beach bag in the back seat you hear a rapid clicking sound in the distance. Your head whips around looking for the source but all you see are everyday people making their way.

"Maybe you should drive?"

"Huh?" Your attention is pivots back to Pedro.

"Not used to driving on the left side and you know the city better than me."

"It's weird how you drive on the right but it's wrong."

He sucks air through his teeth, holding back a smile. "I'm not even going to give you the satisfaction of a laugh. That was a horrible joke."

"Come on, you know it was funny."

He shakes his head, still holding in his laugh, gesturing you to take the driver seat. You do so not without him stealing another kiss from you, hand holding tight on your hip and the other cradling your face.

Slow, intimate... longing...

(For the vibe: Porcelain, Natural Blues and/or Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad? by Moby)

Windows down, warm breeze whipping through your hair and Pedro's ruffled curls, getting closer to the ocean and the smell of sea salt wafts into the car, the sun kissing your skin playfully, you are engulfed in a sense of freedom that only summer can summon.

You both bop along to music he has playing from his own playlist. Some Fleetwood Mac, Madonna, Pretenders, Moby and others. Driving along the esplanade, music pumping, the blue of the sky and the sparkle of the ocean connect on the horizon to your right and you peak Pedro admiring the view from your left peripheral.

When you arrive Pedro starts taking pictures of the view, even brining you in for a selfie together. Some goofy, some cute, you're glad he wants to memorialize your time together. You follow the path down the cliffs to the beach, passing a sign that catches Pedro's eye. You join him to see the hazard signs, wildlife info, beach history and acknowledgements.

"You are on Bunurong Country. Wominjeka. (Welcome)" He reads out. "What this?"

"It's an acknowledgement to Australia's Aboriginal People. The original custodians of the land along with the Torres Strait Islanders before it was... colonised."

"Oh that's cool that they do that."

"Its the bare minimum after what they've been put through..."

"Fuck the colonisers."

"Yeah, fuck them." You feel relieved that he understood your sentiments.

You tip toe your way through the scorching sand to find a spot near the water. Even though it was mostly families from the area that frequent this beach, Pedro suggested you two set your stuff somewhere more quiet. So you settled for a spot closer to the cliffs that close in onto the water.

Eagerly, wanting to be free from the confines of your clothes because it is quite frankly, boiling hot, you undress your self down to your bikini. Welcomed by the harsh rays of the sun, you reach into your bag for the sun screen and wasting no time to lather it on yourself. Looking over to Pedro, he has set his towel down and you feel yourself shy away as he watches you through his sunnies.

"Make sure you slip slop slap. The sun is pretty rough down here."

"Make sure I do what now?" he raises his brows high enough over his sunnies in confusion.

"Put sunscreen on?"

"So many weird words and sayings you have here."

You blow raspberries at him and continue lathering yourself down, squirting some into your hand and applying it to your chest making sure to be extra slow and meticulous reaching into the cups of your bikini. You hear him groan out a 'mierda' under his breath, leaning over and grabbing the bottle.

"Turn around, I'll do your back for you."

Seated on your knees, you face your back to him, so he can rub the sunscreen onto your back. His hands glide over with a nice level of pressure that feels like a massage making you purr with enjoyment. The pressure deepens as his thumbs press harder into your skin, closing your eyes and slouching your head down. His other hand lifting at your strap, you follow the feeling of his hand only for him to let go of it and snapping your skin giving you a sudden jolt, getting a titter out of you.

Hands move to your lower back, again, applying that nice pressure. His fingers skim at the hem of your bottoms almost tickling you, then grabs handfuls of you ass, diligently making sure to cover every part of them.

Once he's sure he is done, he moves in closer and hugs you from behind, pressing his hard on against your lower back. Lips next to your ears he whispers. "It's actually no fair how much you turn me on just from your existence."

"I'd be more than happy to help with that." you murmur back.

"Soon. But for now I need you to do my back too."

You swap positions and admire how lean and broad his back is, impressed with how well his taken care of his body over the years. Hands spreading across, you lather his back and make your way down. Sliding your fingers slightly under the hem of his shorts, you follow it around to the front, brushing the soft snail trail and just teasing to go lower before his hands move them away.

He was adamant on not letting you touch him. You start to feel like you might be coming on to him too strong and pushing his boundaries like a creep.

"What's wrong?" he asks when he notice your visible discomfort.

"Am I being too much? If me touching down there is uncomfortable for you, just tell me now and I'll stop. Just hard to tell when we keep feeling each other up." you feel slightly embarrassed.

He gives a soft laugh and kisses your forehead. "I like it, don't worry. Just keep it above clothes for now, okay?"

"Okay." you smile and nod back, now understanding where he stands but still unclear about his reasoning.

Not dwelling on the conversation, Pedro jumps to his feet and scoops you up in his arms, bridal style with a smile from ear to ear. Taking you by surprise, you squeal as he runs to the water. Hooking your arms around his neck not wanting him to drop you but you're soon startled by the cold as he plunges you both underwater.

Resurfacing, you gasp for air and rubbing hair and water away from your face, eyes slightly stinging. Pedro has his face half submerged in the water staring at you cheekily as bubbles pop around his face, giving off a boyish charm that keeps him looking younger than he is.

"The waters a bit fuckin' fresca." you say, splashing water at him that he chuckles away from.

Whipping his wet hair from his face, spraying you a little, he closes in to you for a hug. You're surprised by the warmth from his body, getting in closer, revelling in the friction as your goose bumped skin presses against each other. Wet and salty kisses are exchanged as water slaps around your enclosed bodies, sharing small moans into one another. You don't think you could ever get sick of kissing him.

"So tell me about yourself Soleada." he asks while grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist for better balance.

You had noticed every other time he had used that word for you. You just weren't sure what it meant and a bit shy to ask. He definitely knew your name, so he wasn't calling you someone else so you were curious why he kept calling you that.

"Sol... means sun... so-"

"Sunny or like sunshine." he intervenes your thought process.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Just have sunny disposition to you."

You blush from his compliment and look at him curiously, brushing the hair sticking to his forehead aside, wanting him to elaborate.

"You just seem like-like the type to really brighten up a room, like your presence c-could cheer anyone up and have that 'half glass full' type attitude. Yeah... like people would go to you, trust you. You have that type of vibe and would just have a natural attraction that people lo- gravitate towards."

"That... that's actually really sweet. Like such a meaningful compliment..." Feeling a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest despite the cold waves slapping against your body, it's almost overwhelming how sentimental he is. "Thank you."

As the sun beats down and your body acclimates to the cold water, or just gone numb, you and Pedro never let go of your embrace as he listens to you talk about yourself while the waves pushed and pulled your bodies. You spoke of your career that you studied hard for and love to do despite the down days, you spoke of your family and your relationship with them, your friends and how you and Syria became besties in Uni despite your polar opposite personalities. He listened intently and asked questions, never turning the conversation onto himself, even keen to listen to mundane things like your favourite music and artists, movies, shows and what food you liked.

"-and I just really love the beach, you know? Growing up, I always had an affinity for the ocean. My family would call me a dolphin because I took every opportunity I could take to be in water. Even in the dead of winter I convinced my parents to let me swim in this outdoor pool." Pedro's lip quirks up, amused. "Regretted it of course, but you get the gist. Just felt like all my problems are gone when I'm in here. If I'm ever rich enough, I'd buy a nice boat and sail in some tropical archipelago country. Living off of the local islands and the sea."

"That would sound like a nice way of living."

"One can dream..."

After talking some more, you two finally decide to swim back to land and dry off. Walking towards your towels you notice some people, mainly girls and women looking your way. More so Pedro's way. You look at Pedro seeing if he's noticed but he's already getting himself comfortable on his towel, patting on yours to lay down with him.

Before you can say anything- "I noticed them. If they want to say hi, they will come. Otherwise I just go about my day."

Frowning at the thought of being a walking exhibit for the public, you think about when you kept gawking at him the first time.

You follow his lead and lay down on your stomach, ignoring the onlookers, pulling out a book to read while you soak some sun. Concentrating on the words on the pages, you're comforted by a hand placed on one of your ass cheeks. He just rests it there and you look at him, eyes closed and blinded by the sun with a lopsided grin, topped with wet curls frizzled on his head. You snort out a laugh and go back to reading your book.

If the waves and cawing seagulls weren't loud enough, you would've missed that clicking sound you heard before. It was faint but you could just make it out. Looking around through squinted eyes, trying to see where it is coming from you're distracted by a small group of girls making their way in your direction. You hope they are just heading for the cliffs to climb them. However, the hand resting on your ass slips away indicating he knows they're on their way.

"Hiiiiiiii. Sorry to bother you but can we get a picture with you? We're big fans!" A high pitched voice asks nervously.

"Of course." Pedro chimes.

The girls all huddle around him, each taking selfies with him. You admire him while he does his thing, impressed by how unbothered he seems by it. Guess he really does appreciate his fans. Though he does keeps his distance, holding his hands behind his back while posing. A few of the girls look your way and you just smile back not wanting to come off as hostile.

"Do you mind taking a group photo of us?" A blondie asks, slightly standoffish.

You nod your head and smile. Getting up, a phone is passed to you and watch as they crowd around him while Pedro stands in the middle of them. You press the button multiple times to make sure they have few to choose from knowing that one photo is never enough.

Once you're done, you hand the phone back to the girl and they finish off their praises and compliments to Pedro as he tries to humbly deflect them and thank them. Then they walk off, giggling amongst themselves.

"Hope you don't mind." he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his freckled chest.

"Nah, its cute seeing them get all excited to see you. And you're real sweet and attentive to them. All of them actually. Like that loser last night."

"Don't worry, I won't let them take all my attention away from you." his voice lowers and closes in to your face.

"It's all good, as long as you make it up to me." you flirt back, pouting your lips to invite him in.

He sees his invitation and accepts it, kissing you gently and you wrap your hands around his waist to feel his warm skin against your own.

Between pecks you ask, "Wanna check out the cliffs and rock pools? There's even a rocky pier we can climb to."

But again you here that sound that is so jarring against the sounds of nature and you notice the smile on Pedro face drop as well, jaw tightening and eyes stern. Looking over your shoulder, you see the source of the sound.

A guy holding a large camera and looking through the view finder was taking photos of Pedro. And you. Did this guy follow you all the way from your apartment? Fuck. You snap your head back to face away so the guy doesn't get a shot of your face. Having your face and identity plastered all over the internet was the last thing you wanted.

"Fuck me dead." You groan into Pedro's chest, knowing your time at the beach is now interrupted and invaded.

Pedro plants a kiss on your forehead for reassurance and starts packing up his stuff from the sand. "Time to go."

You stand there, annoyed, watching him pick up his stuff.

"We're just gonna let him ruin our day?" you pout.

"Trust me, he'll hover around and it won't be fun for either of us. I'm hungry anyways."

You reluctantly agree and pack up your belongings as well, placing your towel over your head to cover your face. You head back to the car, your hand in Pedro's as he lead the way and walking past the pap, who continues to snap away like you're some zoo exhibit.

When you pull up back to your place, you let out a big sigh, releasing the tension that had built up while you were driving and grovelling over the pap who cut your beach day short.

"So..." Pedro begins rummaging through his bag looking for something. "I was saving this for the beach but I guess having this now wouldn't be so bad."

He pulls out what you assumed was a rollie at first, only to realise it was bigger and more coned shaped. Your face drops and eyes widen when you realise.

"Is that bud?"

"Bud?" He quizzes back, again imitating your accent.

"Marijuana."

He nods seemingly proud of himself.

"You know that's illegal here right?" you utter in disbelief, glancing around the street to make sure no one is around. "Where did you even find that?"

"Some guy sold it to Nico that he met at a bar."

"Christ on a bike Pedro." you say it flat and he just shrugs a 'what'. "If its illegal here, that also means it's not regulated either! That shit could be laced!"

You have your fingers squeezing the bridge of your nose at the absurdity that he'd just buy some bud from a random. A random that could have also been an undercover jack.

"Oh it's safe. I already had some the other day."

All you can do is stare at him, deadpan, blinking rapidly in shock.

"I'm guessing you haven't tried it before. If you don't feel like it, I get it."

Eye flicking between the joint and Pedro's face, you think about it. There had been times you wanted to try it but never felt quite comfortable to do so. Especially knowing how messed up drugs can be, being unregulated here. But Pedro said it was fine, and he was experienced with it so there wasn't really anyone else you could trust more.

"Fuck it." You huff, rolling down the windows so you don't hotbox yourselves.

He lights it up, taking in a few puffs so it stays lit. The smell is strong and you start to get nervous, looking around to see if anyone is near or walking past. Especially keeping an eye out for that pap.

Pedro passes the joint to you but pauses. "Are you sure?"

Before you can chicken out, you grab it from him and place it between your lips. Inhaling it like you would a cigarette, you are taken aback by how rough it felt in your throat causing you to choke and cough aggressively. You shove it back to Pedro so you don't accidently drop it during your coughing fit.

He laughs playfully as you struggle, while patting you on the back sympathetically. Looking at him through teary eyes, his face is framed by a haze filling the car. You try to come off as intimidating for laughing at you, squinting your eyes at him but as he nods his upside down smile and raised eyebrows indicate you might already look high.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." you lie, head already spinning. Taking the joint back to take a another puff, more slowly this time as to not cough your guts out.

Eventually you get used to smoking the joint but Pedro makes sure to have the majority of it so you don't have too much on your first go. You feel as stiff as a rock, sinking into your chair while simultaneously feeling airy and like you could float out the car. You're becoming more aware of your surroundings, eyes darting around scoping the area and can feel every fibre of your clothes against your skin, you're even a little nauseous. When did it get so bright and loud around here? You don't even notice Pedro getting out of the car till he opens your door, putting the window back up and placing his hand in front of you to take.

"Let's get something to eat." his voice is low and scratchy from the smoke, bringing a giggle out of you because you find it hot.

You're not sure how you look to the public, but you're sure it's silly because you can't seem to the get rid of the smile spread across your face. Your cheeks hurt from laughing at nothing and everything as you two walk down the street to a local burger shop. Your mind is elsewhere and you can't even comprehend most of what Pedro is trying to say to you and you just giggle and nod in response repeatedly.

"You're being real cute right now you know." he whispers to you. His words are soothing and you nuzzle into his shoulder, taking in a deep inhale of his scent. That sweet musky scent that smells extra enticing right now.

Feeling his body come to a halt, you look around realising you had reached the end of the street in front of the burger shop. You scramble through your brain trying to remember how you got here so fast. You were just at the start of the street a second ago? Right?

Pedro speaks to the cashier and places his order.

"I swear we were still at the start of the street." you mumble.

Pedro chuckles, motioning you to the cashier. "Order what you want."

After squinting at the menu for some time, you tell the cashier what you want and he tallies up the price. "That'll be twenty-six forty, thank you."

You look over to Pedro to make sure he doesn't pay and thankfully he is distracted by a fan behind you in line. You peep into your purse and pull out 2 tens and hand it to the cashier before looking through your purse again to find the other ten note you swear you had.

"Here's your change, your order will be ready soon."

You look at the change in his hands disoriented and confused. "No no, I was suppose to give you another tenner."

"You gave me thirty dollars Miss." the cashier insists.

"No I only gave you twenty, just let me find the other-" you don't know why but you feel slightly panicked.

A pair of hands grab your shoulders. You hear Pedros voice thank the cashier who is smiling awkwardly back at you, grabbing the change and moves you to the side so the next person can order.

"I swear to God I only gave him twenty and I swear I had three tens in here." you ramble on as Pedro places the change into your purse.

He cups your face and lifts it up to look at him, immediately entranced by his deep brown eyes, that cheek aching smile forming back on your face.

"You're just really high right now Soleada." You shake your head aggressively not believing him. "Thank you for paying, but next time I'm paying okay?"

"How un-feminist of you." You joke.

He fakes laughs and rolls his eyes, squeezing your shoulder playfully and holds onto your swaying body while you wait for your order.

After comically scoffing down your burger, munchies coming in full charge, you walk back (more so Pedro is leading you back by hand like you're a lost child with your scattered brain) to your apartment needing to rest as the weed starts to really set in heavy.

"Syria?" You call out as you open the door. The room is quiet and there's no response. She must be out. Letting Pedro in, you lock the door behind you. "Looks like we have the pl-"

Back pressed hard against the door, you're almost winded by the sudden movement as Pedro leans his body into yours, hungrily kissing you. Your heart skips a beat, mind and body catching up with the moment and returning the feeling, kissing him back as deep as you can, desire immediately pooling your underwear.

The door shakes from the weight of your bodies desperately pressing into each other, your core yearning for the feeling of his hardening cock rubbing up against you.

Still high, the feeling of his hands grazing up and down your skin blazes with intensity you haven't felt before. You follow the fire trail down to the hem of your shorts, fingers roughly pulling them down along with your bikini bottoms.

He doesn't waste a second to slide his fingers through your folds, wetting them with your slick. Your breathe hitches when his finger tips find themselves on your clit, applying a soft pressure while circling slowly. You buck your hips forward to pressed harder against his fingers.

"Need. You. Now." he growls between hasty kisses.

You mewl in agreement, relishing in the most simple action; feeling tens times more pleasurable then if you were sober. He sweeps you off the floor, hooking his hands underneath your thighs and you wrap your legs and arms around him.

Sounds of furniture getting knocked and giggles echo in your empty apartment while he walks blindly to your room never letting go of the kiss. Stopping at the end of your bed, Pedro gently lowers you down.

Slivers of the sun shine on your body through the slatted shades on your window and he gazes down on your body, watching you slip your top off and undoing your bikini strings, eyes heavy with lust, licking his lips, breaths shallow.

Your heart rate accelerates when he lowers on top of you, one hand placed firmly beside you and the other tightly griping your hip, his thumb applying pressure into your pelvis. Haphazardly kissing up your neck, you wrap your legs back around to bring him closer and he grinds into you.

"So needy Soleada." he whispers into your ear, each roll of his hips into you building the tension.

Realising he is still at the end of the bed, you try to squirm up to make space for him to get on, anticipating what is to come but his grip on your hip holds you in place. You keep trying to wriggle underneath him so he'd get the hint but instead it just create more friction against your clit as he grinds on you, small whimpers slipping out of you.

He starts sliding down you, leaving a line of kisses down your chest. Watching him slowly leave wet spots along your torso, he gets on his knees. You hold yourself up onto your elbows to watch him continue to kiss around your mound, getting softer the closer he gets.

"Fucking tease." you say, sounding more like a beg than in annoyance of how he keeps edging you.

He reaches one hand for your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and nibbles at your thigh in response and your lips press together hard in a moan.

Lifting both your legs over his shoulders, he brushes his lips down your thigh and finally reaches onto your clit, throbbing and waiting for him. Expecting him to tease you further, you whine when his mouth takes you whole and his tongue swirls around your clit. Your head falls back at the welcome surprise.

Even with how gentle he is being, the sensation is already buzzing through your body from the added high off weed. Light headedness building as he laps his tongue around, down to your entrance tongue fucking you and up again, moaning into the extra sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Never... felt... like this... before." you struggle to speak while breathless.

Your moans deepen as you lift your head back up to look at him to see that he is already looking up at you while his mouth his planted firmly devouring every bit of you. You feel your pussy pulse from the intense but soft look, his signature puppy eyes putting you in a hazy trance.

As he continues to suck, lick and kiss you, it becomes a warm comfort making you languid. Lulling you and your body relaxing, you lay back down with your hand reaching to play with his hair with your eyes closed and whispering sweet praises to Pedro.

It just felt so perfect, you could lie there with his head deep between your thighs and eating you out for hours. Your body starts to sink into the bed, getting dozy.

"No falling asleep just yet beautiful."

His hot breath tickles against your exposed skin, you hum in delight only for you to gasp a moan when you feel fingers firmly pushed inside of you. Applying more pressure and speed with the point of his tongue now, you hold tight on his hair as he fingers you rhythmically.

He keeps the pace going as your legs begin to shake from the growing pleasure bubbling up inside you, moans and whimpers getting louder and more frequent. Both of your hands gripping onto his locks and your legs using his back as leverage, you pull him in closer while bucking your hips up so you can ride his face, getting closer to that high.

Pedro pumps faster inside you, curling his fingers and hitting in just the right spot, your lungs are burning for oxygen as you continue to moan, borderline sob at the unbearable pleasure that is begging to be released as you pelvis grinds harder into his mouth and your stomach goes taut.

"Soleada. Come for me."

On command, you let go of all the built up arousal inside you, moaning his name out loud. Your body slackens and simultaneously shudders from bliss, eyes shut tight, stars flashing. Pedro stops fingering you, arms wrapped around your legs and still licking your clit helping you ride your orgasmic wave.

Once silence settles and your breathing evens out, Pedro climbs on top as your body occasionally spasms. He pecks you on your satisfied smile, praising how delicious you taste, how beautiful you are and that he can't enough of hearing you moan his name.

"That was definitely a first." you happily sigh, words slurred and eyes heavy.

He climbs further up the bed and hoists you up to your pillows like a rag doll. Covering you with your throw blanket, he tucks himself behind you and wrapping his body around yours, nose nuzzled into you.

Sweet hums and kisses along your neck and shoulders comfort you, drifting into sleep...

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Tags: @mingeniee @ghostofjoharvelle @str84pedro @ellieslver @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @crazyworldofsiani

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader

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hanasnx · 1 year

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stop because i literally thought this was just me being completely utterly weird but knowing that there’s someone out there that thinks the same thing is literally so relieving, like yes?? anakin is and would be “gross” when he’s having sex?? and omg and dropping hot wax on him?? i loved all of what you said, we need more “gross”anakin.

thank you for coming to my Ted talk.💗

(btw I’m talking about you “scratching the surface” with anakin’s other kinks)

val it’s so real it’s practically canon.

like i absolutely know padme (who’s not prudish by any means & even if she was that’d be fine) was barely keeping up with her husbands sex drive and kinks. but the man knows how to lay the meanest pipe so i just know she loved being along for the ride 🤷‍♂️

sometimes some of the gross stuff i write for him i don’t even write it as a “this is gonna be so hot” it’s literally like “yea ani would do this and probably be into it” like i really try to stay true to his character and he thinks it’s hot. whether or not i do or you do is subjective. the reader in the fic is always gonna reflect ani’s sense of adventure and therefore be into what he’s into for the sake of storytelling

i have a series of unarticulated thoughts on anakin’s so-called “grossness” and i try to sprinkle them in evenly throughout my work. but since u asked for more, i’ll give you a list

let’s talk more about anakin’s disgusting habits under the cut

warnings: f pronouns + anatomy, dead dove do not eat for sexually and potentially triggering explicit themes. things such as feet stuff, butt stuff, armpit stuff, pregnant/breeding/lactation kink, titfuck. mommy/daddy kink, mentioned vomit from gagging on cock & cleaning it off & face fucking, slight dubcon, sadism, dacryphilia, piss kink, blood consumption

☥ he’s so impulsive, so eager to act on a whim. unapologetically gross

☥ ani is treading pretty dangerously close to a foot fetish bcos it’s part of “his worship” for reader. and he would 100% “floss your toes with his tongue” and he’d tell reader that to their face too

☥ would make out w your ear tbh.

use tongue when he kisses you on places that are supposedly chaste. your hand or your cheek or your forehead during goodbye. what’s the point? he doesn’t know. he wants to taste the sweat on your skin

☥ he eats ass like a starving man and he loves when it’s done to him too. he doesn’t even fuckin care istg he loves ass. he loves fingering it while he’s fucking your pussy, he loves fisting it, fucking it, making you wear cute jeweled butt plugs. he wants to fist your pussy too but that’s not nearly as easy as your perfect asshole

☥ unhinged enough to lick & suck your armpits. sweaty or not. part of his insatiable need to have touched/licked every reachable inch of your body no matter how unorthodox. the possession in him

☥ my friend (i’d tag them but i didn’t know if they’d want to be tied to this piece of info 💀) once said “he wants to live inside your skin” and she was 100% right

☥ shamelessly attracted to pregnant women & milfs & tits. the mommy issues on this kid is out of this world. he wants you to take care of him like you’re his mom and i mean that. and he also wants to fuck you. he’s so fucked up. if you made dinner for him? in nothing but an apron? he’d call you mommy and eat whatever you made right off of you

☥ breeding. we all know it, it’s been done before a thousand times. anakin’s the king of the breeding kink. but i’d like to say some more about it.

if you’re pregnant, he’s constantly trying to fuck you. you’re like “my love, can you grab me that? i’m in a lot of pain right now i can’t—

immediately, he’s asking: “you want me to fuck you too? it might relieve some of the pressure. i read somewhere..”

he’s practically vibrating sitting next to you thinking about how he— him— he put babies inside you. h i m.

god and if you let him have you?? he goes crazy

he’s like grabbing your hair and licking up the length of your spine and saying shit like, “gotta make sure right? gotta make sure… you’re gonna take it all… my little wife.”

and

“i did this to you, didn’t i? say it, baby, who got you fucking pregnant? fuck, your tits are gonna get so fucking big. you’re gonna let daddy milk you, right?” cos that lactation kink is so real too

he’d honestly wanna fuck your tits while they’re full of milk. watch your nips drool milk all over yourself and his dick while it’s nestled so tight in between em. you’re practically crying from the oversensitivity which is just an added plus for him.

part of the pregnancy kink is definitely the thrill of almost forcing you to have his children.. going bareback and bein like “you ready for another one? let’s make another. if it doesn’t take this time, we’ll keep doing it. i’ll give you my cum as many times as it takes, yeah? you fucking love it.” after you literally just had one of his children bcos he’s selfish and cruel and tyrannical and gets off to shit like this

☥ after a blowjob he wants you to swish and gargle his load. open your mouth so he can spit in it and make you mix it in. watch you as you swallow it and probe your mouth with his tongue to taste the remnants

☥ piss kink. he has it. he wants it both ways. something about watching you kneel in front of him to get pissed on makes him feel so superior. disgustingly superior. telling you how good you are sitting so pretty for him while he pisses on you. you’re so dirty for liking it. might make you drink it depending bcos he’s def had yours—

☥ making you practically vomit on his cock from fucking your throat so deep. swells with pride when you lick it off of him like a good girl. he loves seeing you gag and choke and lurch. the way your throat looks closing up and how your body surges from the involuntary movement. it makes him moan and fuck your mouth like a pussy. as hard as he can.

☥ twisting and pulling and flicking your clit and nips. slapping your pussy. tugging at your folds. simply bcos of his sick fascination to put you through so much for his own sexual satisfaction. don’t worry he expects the same from you.

☥ he’d lick and drink your blood in the right circumstances tbfh. if he broke the skin on you somewhere he’d lick the wound

☥ he wants to watch you hopelessly fuck so many things for him. for him, specifically. not you. for him. he wants you to put on a show for him. to redden and whine and cry bcos whatever thing (which is most likely not a toy, and something not meant to be stuck up your ass or pussy. that stretches it too wide or whatever other reason) just isn’t working and it’s not getting you where you need to be. and you beg for him to help you. to let you stop. but he doesn’t. not yet anyway

☥ seriously,,, there is so little i don’t see this boy doing ,,, there’s definitely more but this is just what i had on hand. 🥵🥵 i love anakin’s disgusting side. disgusting is an understatement. he needs a stronger word

#dead dove do not eat #anakin skywalker headcanons #ch: anakin #foreverburningstar #thanks for the msg!!#indy: headcanons #reader insert #x f!reader #x fem!reader #x female!reader #anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #wife!reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker kinks #subby anakin

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eddiernunson · 4 months

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

| Master List | Prev Part | Next Part

Word Count: 16.9k

Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)

I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.

I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.

Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.

You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”

“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”

“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”

“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.

“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.

“You found a dress?”

You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”

The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted. The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”

“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.

He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.

“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.

Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”

Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.

“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”

A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”

He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”

A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”

He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”

You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”

“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”

Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”

You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”

He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”

With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.

On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.

A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.

As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.

All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)

Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”

“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.

“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.

“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.

“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”

Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”

Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.

You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.

The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.

“Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.

Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.

His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”

He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”

A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.

It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.

“Hey, Eddie—”

You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.

“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”

He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”

“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.

He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”

You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”

The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.

You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.

He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.

You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”

Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?

“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.

Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”

Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”

Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”

“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.

“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.

His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”

“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.

“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.

“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.

“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”

“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”

Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”

Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.

He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.

But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.

Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.

The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.

What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?

As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.

When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.

“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”

You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”

His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”

You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”

“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis.

For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.

“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”

“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”

Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.

Is he nervous?

He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.

The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.

“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.

You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.

Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.

Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”

Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.

It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.

Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”

You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.

“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.

“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.

To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.

Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.

Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.

It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.

Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.

Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.

“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.

“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.

The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.

Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”

“Still not telling.”

The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.

Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.

“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.

“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”

“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”

They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.

“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.

“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”

“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”

Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.

Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.

“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.

“You ever plan to?”

“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.

“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”

Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.

The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.

Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.

Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”

You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.

“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”

Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.

Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.

His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.

You huff, head banging against the head rest.

“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”

Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”

Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.

“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”

You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.

When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.

The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.

Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.

You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.

“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”

Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.

Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.

This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.

Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.

Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.

You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.

Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.

Your mom was on the newspaper?

The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.

Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.

Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.

The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.

His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.

You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.

The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”

Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”

The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.

His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”

When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.

“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”

As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”

“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”

“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”

Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.

“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.

Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”

His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”

“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”

“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”

Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”

The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.

“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.

Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.

You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.

“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.

Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”

“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.

“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.

“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”

“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.

“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”

You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.

“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.

You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”

To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.

The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.

Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”

Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.

Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.

Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.

“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.

Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.

Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”

Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”

He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”

Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”

Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”

The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.

Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”

“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.

“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.

“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.

Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”

You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”

Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.

How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.

You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”

“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.

You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”

“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”

“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.

Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.

You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”

You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”

“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”

You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”

She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.

“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.

“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”

You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”

“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”

“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”

You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.

“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”

Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.

“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”

“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.

They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.

A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.

You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.

To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.

“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.

You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”

“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.

Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”

“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”

Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”

“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”

You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”

“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”

“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”

The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.

You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”

Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”

You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.

You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.

You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.

“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.

“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”

You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”

Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.

At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.

“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”

You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”

“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”

You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”

You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”

If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”

“You didn’t think to take her card away?”

Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”

Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”

“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.

“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”

“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”

“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”

He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.

He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”

Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”

“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.

He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”

You nod, mewling in agreement.

“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.

It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.

He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.

He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”

You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”

Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”

“We’re getting married today.”

You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.

Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.

He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”

The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.

Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.

Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.

She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”

Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”

You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.

Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.

“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.

No. Seriously. You’ve tried.

Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”

You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”

“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.

“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.

Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”

Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”

“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”

“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”

“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.

As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.

All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.

As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”

“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)

Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.

As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”

“I’m so nervous.”

He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”

A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”

“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”

The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.

Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”

That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”

“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”

“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.

Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.

Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?

Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”

But I can’t help…falling in love with you.

There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.

First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.

The two of you in the world, really.

There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.

If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.

Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”

You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”

You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.

Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.

His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.

You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”

“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.

Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.

The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.

His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel.

A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”

“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers. “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”

The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.

“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”

God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.

“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.

“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.

“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.

With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.

“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.

“Just marry the girl, already.”

“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.

Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.

“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.

Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.

The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.

When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”

He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”

You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.

There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.

As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.

Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.

You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.

The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.

You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.

Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.

You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.

“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.

“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.

“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.

You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.

“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”

“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”

Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”

The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.

Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”

“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”

“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”

You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”

“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”

You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”

Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”

“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”

Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words. “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”

Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Eddie, cock, so big!”

He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”

“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”

“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”

“Want your babies.” You gasp.

“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”

Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”

“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”

You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”

“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”

You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”

He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”

You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.

Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.

“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.

You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.

Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”

Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”

You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.

Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.

“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.

The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”

“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.

The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”

“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”

“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”

“Knew you would.”

“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.

The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”

“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.

“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.

His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”

“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”

Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”

“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.

Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”

“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.

“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”

Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.

By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.

By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”

His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.

“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.

You tell him, gasping for air.

“I see, still not enough yet.”

It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”

Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.

“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”

Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.

“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.

You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.

He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.

The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.

After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”

You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”

He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”

“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.

“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.

“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”

After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.

The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.

Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.

You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.

The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.

Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.

You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.

It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.

If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.

When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.

It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.

Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”

Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”

“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”

“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”

Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.

“And trust me when I say they are loud.”

“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.

The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.

Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.

You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”

“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”

You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.

One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.

As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”

He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”

One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.” He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”

You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”

“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”

You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”

“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.

The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.

Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”

At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”

He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”

It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.

Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.

So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”

All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.

The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”

“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.

“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”

“What’s all this for?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”

“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”

Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.

“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.

“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.

He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.

The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.

“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.

“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.

“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.

“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.

Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.

He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.

As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.

Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.

There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.

By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.

Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”

Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.

As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.

Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?

That’s definitely two lines.

“Shit.”

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