roseweaslies

[roseweaslies]

DUMB & POETIC

Johnny Storm X Female!reader || WC: 6.1K

SUMMARY: Johnny Storm flirted like it was a reflex, so when he starts showing up at work with that grin and some line about taking you out, you didn’t flinch. You want to believe him, want to think there’s something real under all that fire and flair, but it’s hard when every time you look, some starry-eyed fan is hanging on his arm.

WARNINGS: Fantastic Four: First Steps minor Spoilers! Typical Marvel themes, angst, fluff, steamy kiss (no pun intended), cursing, Sue being Johnny’s defender yet still humbles him, self-deprecating thoughts, Ben and Johnny banter, lots of pet names, lovesick!Johnny

A/N: As soon as I saw the first trailer for this movie, and saw Joe Quinn as Johnny I knew he would do the role justice! I’m just sad now we have to wait until next year for the next set of Marvel movies! 😩 Divider by @saradika-graphics <3

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Weekends at Maisie’s Delicatessen were a whirlwind of clinking dishes, muffled jazz from the radio behind the counter, and the sweet, yeasty warmth of the oven creeping into every corner of the narrow shop. Nestled on a street corner in Manhattan, its red neon sign buzzed softly beneath the fire escape, a beacon for locals and regulars alike. Inside, mismatched chairs and linoleum floors bore the scuffs of a hundred hurried mornings.

Your hair had been shoved into a bun since dawn, already loosened by the heat radiating off the pastry case. You moved nonstop, dodging customers and slinging paper bags filled with brownies, marble loaves, and chocolate croissants to neighborhood regulars. The cookies, especially the chocolate chip, were gone before noon, and you'd slipped a few warm ones to the kids who lived across the street, ignoring their mother's frazzled protests. Kids needed sweetness in a city like this.

You leaned against the counter for the first time in hours, arms dusted with flour and sugar, the faint hum of a delivery truck idling outside. You took a quick sip of water, your lips still tasting faintly of cinnamon. Then came the bell, ding-a-ling, that delicate sound above the door. You glanced up and froze in amused recognition. Ben Grimm stood in the doorway, trying (and failing) to disguise his massive, craggy frame beneath a trench coat that strained at the seams.

His fedora sat low, shadowing his unmistakable orange brow, but you’d recognize that stance anywhere. A few folks glanced up, but New Yorkers were practiced in the art of pretending not to notice things that didn’t concern them. “There’s my favorite customer!” You grinned, the weariness melting from your voice as you waved him in. Ben chuckled low in his throat, the sound gravelly and warm. “The usual, a dozen black and white cookies, fresh outta the oven.”

You beamed, already holding out the brown paper bag before he could part his lips. Ben’s rocky features relaxed into a rare, boyish grin. The warmth in his eyes was unmistakable, even beneath the shadow of his hat. “You spoil us way too much, Y/N.” He murmured, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat with those thick, stone-like fingers. Before he could fish out his wallet, you gently laid your hand against his arm. “Nah,” You whispered, your eyes crinkling. “It’s the least I can do. You keep our city from crumbling, literally.”

He hesitated, then chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth pulling into something half-sheepish, half-grateful. The coat shifted slightly as he straightened up, careful not to knock over the tiny table near the window. Outside, the city kept humming, taxis honking, a dog barking somewhere down the block, steam curling from a grate on the corner like clockwork. Ever since that mission to space, the one that turned the four of them into something the world had never seen, they'd been more than just heroes.

Earth-828 called them protectors. Some folks whispered “miracles,” others muttered “monsters,” but to you, they were still people. People who liked black and white cookies warm and still a little gooey in the middle. Ben tucked the bag under one arm with reverence, like he was holding something precious instead of simply just cookies. “Reed says carbs’ll slow me down,” He grunted, already lifting one to his mouth. “But he doesn’t know what he’s missin’.”

You laughed, the sound light above the soft vinyl music playing from the back. The overhead light flickered briefly, a flaw in the old wiring you never bothered fixing, casting a golden glow across the glass counter and catching the powdered sugar still clinging to your forearms. “Anything else I can get for you?” You asked, tilting your head as Ben scanned the pastry display. “Will you let me pay for it this time?” You shrugged with a playful glint in your eye watching as he shook his head in disapproval.

“Just the cookies today. I’ll take the offer next time, though.” Ben grunted, approval or defeat, it was hard to tell, and adjusted his coat. “Fair enough,” You smiled, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Tell everyone their favorite baker said hello.” You added, wiping your hands on your apron. As if summoned, the front door jingled again, and in blew a gust of hot air and unmistakable cologne. “Ben! What a coincidence!” Johnny Storm strolled in like he owned the block, hair windswept, a grin already loaded and ready to fire.

He clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder, more for show than anything, before swiveling toward you like a sunflower toward the sun. “Why hello, gorgeous.” He purred, leaning casually against the counter, elbows propped like it was a bar and not a bakery. His blue eyes flicked over you, every detail catalogued in a glance that burned hotter than anything the ovens could crank out. You didn’t flinch. You’d seen this act before. “Johnny.” You replied, arms crossed more for protection than posture.

It didn’t stop your heart from racing, not with him standing there, all charm and endearing smile. He’d been flirting ever since the first time Ben sent him to pick up cookies, weeks ago now, throwing one-liners your way. It had become routine, really. Every day around noon, Johnny would stroll through the doors of Maisie’s Delicatessen, sometimes in uniform, sometimes in civilian charm, like clockwork.

He’d order the same cherry danish or lemon tart he never finished, pick at a croissant he claimed was “too flaky,” or simply ask for something sweet and then spend twenty minutes leaning on the counter and making small talk. You’d never seen him eat more than a bite. The truth? He didn’t like pastries. You knew. You noticed the way he’d discreetly leave half of them on the plate, or slide one into a napkin and “forget” it on the windowsill. But he came back anyway.

Every. Single. Day.

Only unlike all the women in New York City, you’d brushed him off. You always did. The whole city knew Johnny Storm’s reputation. He was the Human Torch, flashy, unpredictable, and impossible not to look at. Blonde hair like sunlight, eyes blue enough to drown in. You weren’t naive. You just weren’t stupid enough to fall for him and get your heart broken. At first, you assumed it was just Johnny being Johnny, chasing a pretty face with his signature swagger and a smirk that could melt through steel.

His flirtation had seemed harmless. But lately… something about him felt different. He asked questions that had nothing to do with your looks. Asked about your favorite books, your childhood dog, whether you liked jazz or doo-wop better. He once brought you a bouquet of tiger lillies because “you looked like someone who deserved a Wednesday pick-me up.” He listened. Really listened. And yet, you still didn’t let yourself believe it. Because he was Johnny Storm.

Famous. Reckless. Traveled to space. And you? You baked cookies on 3rd and Grand and slipped extras to neighborhood kids. So when he leaned in across the counter today, eyes locked on yours like you were the only person in Manhattan, it made your stomach twist. Because you couldn’t tell if it was all just part of the game, or if maybe, just maybe, he meant it. Still, you reminded yourself to breathe, burying the stupid crush on the blonde-haired, blue-eyed heartbreaker as far down as it would go.

You’d dug that hole weeks ago, right around the time he started showing up for pastries he didn’t eat, and you’d kept digging ever since. “Surprised you’re not at the Baxter Building,” You teased, grabbing a nearby rag to wipe a nonexistent smudge on the counter. “Don’t you have a world to save?” He grinned, eyes glinting. “Figured I’d start with yours.” You almost choked on your own breath. Ben rolled his eyes so hard you could almost hear them click.

“Flamebrain, pick up your danish and let the woman work.” But Johnny didn’t move. He leaned in further, elbow resting against the counter like he had all the time in the world. “Aw, come on, Y/N.” He drawled with a smirk so effortless it should’ve been criminal. That wink, practiced, perfect, probably had women lining up around the block. You huffed a laugh despite yourself, because dammit, he was impossible not to smile at. Shaking your head, you turned your back to him, pretending to be very, very busy with the new tray of croissants still warm from the oven.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was still watching you, you could feel it. You grabbed the pineapple danish, the one he always claimed was his favorite, though you were 99% sure he hated pineapple, and placed it gently on the counter between you. “Have a nice day, Johnny.” It was meant to be the end of it. A line drawn in powdered sugar. But the way he lit up when you said his name made your chest tighten in a way that was wildly inconvenient.

His whole face softened, the cocky veneer still there, but something genuine flickering behind it. The corners of his mouth curved, his blue eyes twinkling like he'd just won something. He pulled out his wallet, soft leather, edges worn, and slid a crisp $10 bill across the counter without breaking eye contact. “See you next time, beautiful.” That should’ve been it. Any normal person would’ve taken their pastry and left. But Johnny Storm wasn’t normal. Before you could even blink, he leaned in again, this time reaching for you.

Reflex made you freeze, lips parting on instinct as his hand came up to your face. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, slow and deliberate. Your breath hitched. Your skin went electric beneath his touch. “Gotcha.” He whispered with a smug grin, dusting flour off your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, like some cinematic fever dream, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, slow, gentle, and let his fingers linger just a second too long.

You couldn’t even look at him. Not directly. Not with that smile. Not with the way his cologne curled through the air, something warm, woodsy, and undeniably him. Not with his broad shoulders in your peripheral, framed by the soft golden light of the storefront window. Your heart was pounding like the city outside, and you hated how easily he could turn you to absolute mush. With one last cheeky wink, he straightened up and strolled past Ben toward the exit like he hadn’t just short-circuited your brain.

You stood frozen, still gripping the edge of the counter as the bell above the door chimed again. Ben lingered for just a second longer, eyeing you with something between amusement and pity. “He’s trouble, kid.” You managed a breathless laugh, cheeks still burning. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He gave you one last tip of his hat before he was out the door. Through the foggy window, you watched Ben shove Johnny as they walked down the street, his expression deadpan as Johnny laughed, head tilted back, beaming.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the stupid smile tugging at your lips. The rest of the evening passed like a worn-out record, quiet, predictable, and just a little too slow. No more superhero drop-ins, no flirtatious banter, just the comforting rhythm of clinking coffee cups, parents herding sugar-hyped kids, and the usual faces grabbing day-old rye for half price. You moved on autopilot, smiling when necessary, nodding when expected, but your thoughts weren’t behind the counter anymore.

They were still caught somewhere between Johnny Storm’s hand brushing your cheek and the lingering scent of him that had somehow stuck to the sleeves of your apron. At four o’clock sharp, you finally peeled off the fabric, folding it with practiced hands. You greeted your coworker with a tired wave, slung your bag over one shoulder, and grabbed the small box of pastries you’d stashed for yourself, your ritual comfort after long shifts. With a practiced motion, you nudged open the back door and stepped into the fading amber of early evening.

It was cooler now, a soft breeze threading through your sleeves, but it didn’t soothe the heat still smoldering beneath your skin. You leaned against the brick wall beside the shop, juggling the box and your bag awkwardly as you searched for your keys. Of course, they’d sunken to the bottom. Because today was that kind of day. “Geez, Y/N! Don’t you know it’s not safe out here?” You jumped slightly, box nearly tipping. But then the voice registered, cocky and warm like always, laced with amusement.

You glanced up, and there he was. Johnny Storm, leaning casually against the wall beside you, hands in the pockets of his jeans, wearing a fitted maroon tee that left nothing to the imagination. His eyes sparkled under the streetlamp like he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. You didn’t even bother hiding your eye-roll this time. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on a woman when it’s nearly dark?” He laughed, that rich, golden sound that always felt like it was meant just for you.

“Walking a beautiful girl to her car after a long shift? That’s not rude, sweetheart. That’s practically chivalry.” You hated the way your heart fluttered. “I might even ask her out to dinner, if she doesn’t already have plans.” He added, stepping a little closer. “You never quit, do you?” Your voice was breathier than you intended, your composure already fraying. The city seemed to fall away, no cars, no lights, no sound, just the heavy press of his presence and the impossible closeness of him.

He took one more step, caging you. His arms bracketed the space like a promise. His eyes were softer now, but blazing all the same. “When it comes to you? I don’t.” You looked up at him, and you felt it, that dangerous pull. Like you were standing on the edge of something steep, and he was gravity. For one brief, selfish second, you wanted to fall. His gaze searched yours, blue eyes impossibly sincere, and you felt your whole body lock up. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or lean in.

It was too much, all at once, the heat, the closeness, the way his words curled inside your chest and ignited everything you’d been trying to bury. “Johnny—” You started, just as quick reality struck. “Johnny! Johnny! Can we get a picture?” A chorus of high-pitched voices broke through the quiet. You both turned. Across the street, three girls, all wide smiles, glossy hair, and miniskirts, were waving excitedly. “Please! We love you!” His shoulders stiffened. For once, he was speechless, gaze flickering between you and them.

And that’s when it hit you.

Of course girls like that followed him. Of course they screamed his name and got his smile and maybe more. Girls who were everything you weren’t, glamorous, shiny, effortless. You felt plain in comparison, dusty from work, apron-wrinkled, flour on your jeans, your lipstick smudged from hours behind the counter and sneaking coffee during your breaks. You felt your throat tighten, breath catching behind clenched teeth.

He looked at you, torn, visibly. You saw the guilt, the hesitation. But you couldn’t handle it. Not the look. Not the choice. You beat him to it. “Go,” You whispered, voice thick. “Take pictures. Sign autographs. Don't let me stop you.” His head whipped back to you. “Y/N—” But you were already slipping. Already falling back into the walls you had spent so long building. Don’t get attached. Don’t believe him. Don’t be a fool. “I’ll see you around, Johnny.” Your smile was brittle.

A cracked-glass version of the one you used to give him. You turned before he could speak, before he could reach for you, because you knew, if he said the right thing, if he looked at you that way again, you’d stay. And you couldn’t. You clutched the pastry box like it was armor and speed-walked to your car, fumbling with the keys as your eyes blurred. You slammed the door shut behind you, hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make your knuckles pale.

You let out one shaky breath, but it didn’t help, your chest still felt like it was caving in. The first tear slipped down your cheek, and you swiped at it with the back of your hand. You blinked hard, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from sobbing, swallowing the thick lump that refused to go away. Through the windshield, you could still see him, standing there, not moving. Not chasing after you. Of course not. He was Johnny Storm. And you? You were just the girl who made the cookies.

It had been two days. Two painfully long, quiet days. Ben had still come in like clockwork, trench coat tight around his frame, tipping his hat with a low grunt and walking out with his usual dozen black and white cookies. Business carried on, regulars filtered in and out, the register chimed, the espresso hissed, and the world, somehow, didn’t stop turning just because Johnny Storm hadn’t walked through your door. But you noticed.

You hated how your heart leapt every time the bell over the door jingled, hated how your eyes darted up from the pastry case expecting him, golden hair tousled like he’d just stepped off a beach, sunglasses halfway down his nose, wearing that crooked grin that always seemed a little too proud to be real. But it was never him. An old man wanting lemon bars. A tired mother with her toddler. A delivery guy. Anyone but Johnny.

By the second afternoon, you were scolding yourself. You’re fine. You don’t care. It didn’t mean anything. It never meant anything. But even that was starting to ring hollow. So when the bell chimed again near closing and your head shot up on instinct, eyes connecting with familiar blue ones. Only it wasn’t Johnny. “Sue?” You breathed out, heart stumbling in your chest at the familiar face, equal parts relief and renewed confusion bubbling up behind your smile. “Hi.”

Her face lit up, warm and elegant as always, framed by a neat headband and soft waves, dressed in a powder blue coat that fell just past her knees. You rounded the counter before she could say a word, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Congratulations, you and Reed, you’re both going to be such amazing parents.” Susan laughed softly, pulling back, her hand instinctively resting over the small swell at her abdomen.

“Thank you, darling.” She whispered, her smile tender, eyes softening at your touch as you caressed the curve just barely beginning to show. Susan glanced around the shop, the quiet obvious now that the last customers had filtered out. She must have seen something flicker across your face, something you didn’t mean to let show, because her gaze settled on you a little too knowingly. "Johnny and Ben didn't tell me you were stopping by."

You hoped it sounded casual, but your voice betrayed you, just a little. She tilted her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, Ben's been busy helping Reed with all the baby stuff,” She replied gently. “And, I don’t think Johnny's mentioned anything the last day or two, actually. He’s... been a little off.” Off? Your chest tightened. You didn’t ask why. You didn’t have the right to. You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t even sure you were a friend.

You were just the girl who made the pastries he didn’t eat, the one he flirted with until fans screamed his name and you reminded yourself to be practical. Still, it gnawed at you. The absence. The silence. The ache that felt like a bruise just beneath the surface of your ribs. You forced a smile. “I’ve got some brioche cooling in the back. Want to take some home?” Susan smiled and nodded, but her eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary.

And you wondered, how much did she know? Because if anyone could see through the armor, it was the Invisible Woman. You wrapped the warm loaf in parchment, the buttery scent of brioche rising with the steam as you folded the edges with careful precision, anything to keep your hands busy while your mind threatened to spiral. Susan lingered just past the counter, fingertips brushing along the glass display case, watching you with an unreadable expression.

Her silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just... weighty. Like she was debating whether or not to cross a line. The silence stretched a few beats longer before she finally broke it. “You know,” She began, almost too casually. “Johnny’s a lot of things. Loud. Reckless. Infuriating.” A wry smile tugged at her lips. “A complete pain in the ass, honestly.” You snorted quietly, folding the twine over the loaf and tying it into a neat bow. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Her gaze sharpened at that, the playful warmth in her voice dipping into something more sincere. “But he’s also been completely, hopelessly hung up on you.” You froze, not dramatically, but just enough that your fingers faltered mid-knot. Susan leaned in slightly, voice softening. “I mean it. Ever since he met you, it’s been nonstop. You’d think Reed and I were hosting a teenage girl in love. Every dinner, it’s always ‘Y/N made me try this pastry’ or ‘You should’ve seen the way her eyes lit up when I told her a dumb joke.’”

You swallowed, throat suddenly dry as your heart pounded loud enough to rival the ticking bakery clock. “I thought it was just another Johnny phase,” Susan continued, her eyes kind now, but serious. “He’s... well. He’s had his share of admirers. Most of them louder. But none of them stuck. None of them made him show up every morning like he forgot how to sleep or act like a lovesick teenager.” Your lips parted, but no words made it out.

Susan gave you a long look, stepping closer until her voice dropped again, almost conspiratorial. “You know what really got me? He started asking me about baking.” You blinked. “He what?” She nodded, confirming that you in fact had heard her correctly. “Wanted to know how long croissants proof. What makes a good butter ratio. If semi-sweet chocolate was the same as milk chocolate, I nearly dropped a plate.”

She gave a quiet laugh, brushing her coat sleeve with her thumb. “He burns toast, Y/N. He once tried to boil eggs in the microwave.” That startled a weak laugh out of you, but the ache behind it remained. “I’m not trying to play matchmaker,” Susan added, gentler now. “And I know he’s a mess, God, he really is, but... this isn’t a game to him. Not this time.” You stared down at the loaf in your hands, chest tightening under the weight of everything she wasn’t saying outright.

You could still feel the ghost of Johnny’s hand on your cheek from two days ago. The way his voice had softened when it was just the two of you. How his grin faltered when he thought you weren’t looking. The worst part? You wanted to believe her. You really did. Yet, that quiet voice in the back of your head, the one that always whispered your insecurities when the lights dimmed and the bakery closed, wasn’t so easily silenced, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

Why would someone like him want someone like you, when he could have models, actresses, girls with legs for days and zero baggage?

You pushed the thought down, deep, wrapping the last piece of tape around the box like it could hold you together too. Susan’s hand landed lightly on your arm, anchoring you for a moment. “Whatever you decide, just don’t let the noise drown out what’s real.” You met her eyes. And in them, you saw none of the pity you were bracing for, just quiet encouragement. Understanding. You gave a faint nod and offered the brioche across the counter.

She took it gently, her smile warm as she tucked it into her bag. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” And then she was gone, the bell jingling softly behind her as she disappeared into the golden spill of the afternoon light. You exhaled slowly, and for the first time in two days, you didn’t flinch at the thought of Johnny Storm. You just ached. The door had barely swung closed behind Susan when you stood there, motionless, loaf of brioche crumbs still scattered across the counter like the remains of a decision just made.

Your heart pounded so loudly you swore the walls could hear it. The hum of the bakery lights, the tick of the clock over the register, the faint laughter of kids down the block, it all faded beneath the sudden, sharp thrum of possibility. What if she was right? What if he wasn’t just another cocky grin in a fireproof suit? What if, under all the swagger and fanfare, Johnny Storm had been waiting, hoping, for you to see him the way he saw you?

Your hands moved before your fear could stop them. You ripped off your apron, tossing it onto the hook so fast it spun, grabbed your purse and keys, and locked the till with barely a glance. You rushed around the counter, fumbled with the light switches, not bothering to sweep the back or double-check the signage. The “Closed” sign swung crooked in the door’s window as you burst out into the late afternoon sun, scanning the sidewalk like a woman on a mission.

There she was. Susan, a block away, was sliding her sunglasses on as she reached the driver's side of a navy blue Fantasticar. You called out her name, your voice cracked with urgency and nerves. She turned, brows lifted in surprise, then slowly tilted her sunglasses down as you approached, breathless and wide-eyed. “I need a ride,” You exhaled, planting your feet like you might change your mind if you moved again. “To the Baxter Building.”

A slow, knowing smirk curled on her lips, like she’d known this would happen all along. Like she had simply laid out the breadcrumbs and waited for you to follow them. Without a word, she unlocked the car with a flick of her wrist and gestured to the passenger side. You slid in, heart hammering, palms damp, and stared out the window as the city blurred by. Your mind ran faster than the wheels on the pavement. What would you say when you saw him? What if he laughed? What if you were wrong?

But then you remembered the way he looked at you. Not like you were an option. Like you were it. The crack in his cocky demeanor when he thought nobody was looking. Susan glanced at you from the corner of her eye, her voice casual as she merged into traffic. “Took you long enough.” You glanced down, flushed and nervous, but a small smile crept across your lips. “Yeah, I guess it really did.” And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel afraid of what came next.

The drive to the Baxter Building felt endless, not because of traffic, but because of what waited at the end of it. Every red light was another second for doubt to crawl back in. Every street corner flashed with reminders: his face on magazines in bodega windows, girls with teased hair giggling over autographed photos, memories of your own reflection feeling small in comparison. Still, you didn’t ask Susan to turn around.

The building rose ahead like a monument, sleek steel and glass stretching toward a stormy Manhattan sky. As you stepped through the lobby, nerves clamped around your lungs, but Susan’s hand on your arm kept you grounded. “Just breathe,” Her eyes told you without a word. The elevator ride was silent, the kind that buzzes with everything unspoken. When the doors opened, both Reed and Ben turned like they’d sensed a bomb ticking.

Ben looked you up and down like you’d grown an extra head, half a cookie still in his massive hand. Reed’s brows lifted, already calculating variables. But before either of them could utter a syllable, Susan threw them a look sharp enough to slice concrete, one perfectly arched brow raised, hand on her hip. You chuckled inwardly, thinking she had definitely mastered the 'mom look'. Ben grunted, glanced between the two of you, then quietly retreated toward the kitchen, muttering something about minding his own damn business.

Reed blinked a few times and gave a tiny, approving nod before following suit. You turned to Susan, your pulse thudding like it might give up entirely. She only smiled, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Third door on the left. Go.” You didn't need to be told twice. Your heels clicked softly against the polished floor as you approached the door, H.E.R.B.I.E chirped a happy greeting in your direction. You waved, resting a hand on the smooth top of the robot’s head with an affectionate pat.

As you eyes locked on the door just past him, you could have sworn your heart lurched. You didn’t bother knocking. Your hand turned the knob, and the door flung open with all the force of your barely-contained storm. There he was. Johnny Storm, sprawled across his navy couch in a gray NASA tee and sweatpants, wearing a full space suit helmet. His posture screamed boredom, limbs flung over the cushions, one leg lazily propped up on the coffee table, until he saw you.

His eyes widened, nearly cartoonish behind the visor, and he jolted upright with such force the helmet slipped sideways on his head. “Y/N!” The name flew from him like he’d been holding it in for days. His voice cracked with disbelief as he scrambled to yank the helmet off, his hair sticking up wildly from the static. “Uh, hi! I mean—hey, you’re here. You’re… in my room.” You stood just inside the doorway, hands curled into your coat pockets to keep from fidgeting.

He blinked at you, breath shallow, eyes flicking from your coat to your flushed cheeks to the tense set of your jaw. “You okay? Did something happen? Are you—?” You didn’t even let him finish. Five steps, that’s all it took. You crossed the room with a force you didn’t know you had, your palms gripping the soft cotton of his white t-shirt, knuckles white with all the tension and longing that had been brewing for weeks, and tugged him down to your level.

Then you crashed your lips into his like it was the only way to keep from falling apart. Johnny’s breath stuttered, caught completely off guard, but only for a second. One of them slid up your spine, fingers splayed wide, pulling you impossibly closer until there was no space left between your bodies. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss like he’d been starving for it.

Your tongue brushed his, tentative at first, but then his low, guttural moan vibrated through your chest and your grip tightened in his shirt, knuckles aching. You kissed him deeper, mouths moving in perfect sync, hot and messy, with the urgency of two people who had waited too long and couldn’t wait a second more. Johnny broke the kiss just long enough to gasp your name against your jaw, voice rough and reverent.

He ducked his head, lips dragging down your neck in soft, open-mouthed kisses that made your breath catch. When his teeth grazed just beneath your ear, a sharp whimper escaped you, unfiltered and raw. “God, do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was hoarse, like the words had clawed their way out of him. You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. Not with your pulse pounding in your ears.

Not with the way he was looking at you like you were something sacred. Instead, you kissed him again, harder this time. The scent of him, smoke and whatever cologne he wore that made your knees weak, clouded your senses as his tongue swept across your bottom lip. Your teeth knocked, breath mingled, and his hand slipped down to the back of your thigh. Without breaking contact, Johnny bent slightly, hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

You gasped into his mouth as your back met the cool plaster of his bedroom wall, the contrast making you shiver, but Johnny’s body was all heat, all fire pressed flush against you. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, and the sound he made in response, part growl, part groan, was nearly enough to undo you right then and there. He kissed you like a man possessed, like he’d held back every second since the first time you handed him a croissant and smiled in his direction.

His fingers flexed at your hips, anchoring you, grounding you, while his mouth explored yours with a tenderness that burned hotter than anything reckless. You broke apart only when your lungs screamed for air, panting, foreheads pressed together. His hands trembled slightly where they gripped you, and your own were buried in his hair, fingers tangled and unwilling to let go. Your gaze met his, blue eyes wide, wild, soft, and for once, all the noise in your head quieted.

You could feel it in the space between heartbeats, in the way his thumb brushed over the back of your knee, in the breath he stole and gave back with each kiss. This wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t a game. “Now, can I take you to dinner?” He murmured, lips brushing yours. You let out a breathy laugh, stealing one more chaste kiss that left both of you grinning like fools. “I think we might've missed a couple steps.” You teased, hands absentmindedly playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

The same ones you’d always dreamed of running your fingers through but never dared to. His eyes softened, that usual cocky glint melting into something heartbreakingly earnest. “I don’t care in what order it happened,” He whispered, blue eyes tracing every line of your face like he was trying to burn it into memory. “As long as it’s you.” Your chest tightened, the words wrapping around something fragile and long-buried in you. He leaned in, nudging his nose gently against yours, and the breath that left him was barely a whisper.

“I should’ve stayed with you that night. I should’ve kissed you the second I saw you leaning against that wall. I should’ve never let you walk away. God, I’ve been such an idiot.” You drew in a shaky breath, heart swelling in your chest. Lifting your hands from his neck, you cupped his face in your palms, thumbs brushing across the faint hint of stubble along his jaw. “Hey,” You coaxed, voice soft but firm, grounding him before his thoughts could wonder. “I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

He closed his eyes like he didn’t trust himself to believe it until you said it again, so you kissed the tip of his nose. Then the corner of his mouth. Then fully on his lips, almost as if sealing the promise between you. A knock sounded faintly, followed by Reed’s voice muffled through the door. “Johnny! Is your friend staying for dinner?” You paused, eyes meeting his. There it was again, that flicker of vulnerability, like the part of him that still feared you’d run if given the chance.

But you didn’t even need to speak. Your smile answered for you. Johnny turned toward the door, cocky grin returning with full force. “Yes she is!” He called out, eyes never leaving yours. “Tell Herbert to set another plate at the table because—” He leaned closer, pressing a final lingering kiss to your flushed cheek. “My gorgeous girlfriend is staying over for dinner.” You couldn’t help it. You beamed. That word, girlfriend, made your skin tingle.

It felt impossibly good. Honest. Earned. You tugged him back down for one more kiss, slow and sure and full of everything you’d both kept buried for far too long. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t second-guessing it. You were exactly where you wanted to be. Where he wanted you to be. Wrapped in the arms of a man who once flirted like it was a reflex, and now held you like you were the only thing in the world that ever made him feel real.

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[roseweaslies]

rose

A/N: I wrote this back in july. here it is again, the first and only fic so far that I've written like this with an original main character

summary: when Rosalie finally saw him, she couldn’t look away…

warnings: Eddie Munson x original character, historical au (in my head I pictured the Georgian era), servant!Eddie, surely extremely historically inaccurate, forbidden romance, secret relationship, near death experience, kissing, alcohol consumption, corruption kink, innocence kink, dirty talk, praise, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering (vaginal and anal), light double penetration, loss of virginity, semi puplic sex, exhibitionism, breed kink, degradation, squirting 

word count: 6065

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Darkness. Then, like a punch to her stomach, she felt everything. Oxygen rushing into her lungs and expanding them, the grass beneath her fingers, and a pair of lips pressed against her own.

Gasping for air, Rosalie felt a rough hand gently tap her cheek.

“My lady? Oh, please open your eyes!”

Blinking them open, she squinted, blinded by the harsh summer sun, but it was somewhat obscured, somewhat darkened by a man kneeling down over her. Dark hair, long and wild, coming apart from the loose ponytail it was fastened in at the nape of his neck. Eyes big, round and panicked. Seeing that her consciousness was now restored, it made him look as if the air had gotten knocked clear out of him, falling back into the grass.

“Oh, jesus christ! Don’t scare a man like that!” he cursed, breathing heavy.

“What…” she tried to sit up, fighting through the dizziness. As she lifted herself partly off the grass, she noticed just how bare her back was. Reaching a hand around, she felt the laces of both her dress and corset cut open. Eyes widening, now fully awake, she jerked back from the man now trying to slow her sudden movements. “Don’t touch me!”

Taken aback, he scoffed, “touch you? My lady, a thank you would be nice right about now.”

“Thank you?” you couldn’t believe this man's arrogance, “for what? Violating me or whatever you were trying to do? This dress is from Paris!”

Staring at her, bewildered, “my grace, do you really not know recall what occurred?”

“You obviously tried to take off my wears without my permission!”

“Because I found you, passed out and you weren’t breathing!” he threw his hands up, “your fucking stays were too tight! So yes, I did cut them loose. You’re fucking welcome!”

“I… I had fainted?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it is one of the hottest days of July and you walk out here dressed in that. What were you even thinking?”

“I just… needed some air,” she looked around, recalling what had made her move outside.

“Why? Don’t your castle get air?”

“It’s not a castle, it’s a palace,” Rosalie corrected him with a sigh, reaching a hand up to fix her slightly loosened updo, “and yes, it does get air.”

“Then why did you come all the way out here to get it?”

Sure, it was a ways away from the building, but this meadow was still her home, even if she couldn’t see the house.

Crossing her arms, feeling one of the sleeves fall down further her arm, exposing her shoulder, “why are you so nosy?”

“I just saved your life, I think I have a right to be nosy.”

Looking down at her ivory skirt, she grabbed onto her loosened top and held it in place, “If you must know, my papa just told me something that, well, I knew it would come eventually, but just not now...”

“What was it?”

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the rugged man, “It is time for me to get married.”

“Isn't that what you want?” he furrowed his brows and cocked his head, making another curl slip out of the flimsy sting struggling to hold it all together.

“I mean, it’s all I’ve ever known, it’s what I’ve been bred for.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he pushed.

“I guess, now that it’s here, I’m just a bit nervous? I don’t wanna leave this place. Dewbury palace is all I’ve ever known… I know I was raised to be ready for this, but I can’t help but feel like I’m walking into the dark…” running a hand over her face, she sighed, “god, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because I asked,” he breathed out, fiddling with a long piece of grass, weaving it between his long fingers.

Looking around the peaceful meadow, at the small flowers and ancient trees that decorated it, both of them were suddenly startled by a far-off booming voice.

“Munson! Where the hell did you go, boy?” the man across from Rosalie widened his eyes and scurried to his feet.

“I must go,” he stretched out a hand to help her up.

As he pulled her up, grasping onto her waist for support, she felt just the tip of his fingers graze her bare back. She had never in her life seen him before. Maybe she’d seen him before, but she had never seen him. Not until now.

“Do you work here?” she asked before he could slip away.

“I do,” he blinked, then slowly added, “my lady.”

Looking back over his shoulder, he winced, “I apologise, I really do have to go. McDougall will have my head if I don’t,” then bowed quickly, but a bit clumsily, “goodbye, my lady,” and escaped through the trees, leaving Rosalie standing there, alone, partially exposed and somewhat stunned over what had just transpired.

Entering the old bare barn that was now used for storage purposes, Rosalie looked over the large boxes and barrels to try and spot the individual she was looking for. When she asked for directions, this was the place she was pointed to.

Rounding the corner, balancing a wooden crate, the man of the hour sat it down with a huff.

“Hi,” she gave a soft smile, her neat dark hair illuminated in the backlit doorway. “Mister Munson, is it?”

“Your grace,” he almost jumped, never in a million years expecting to see her standing here. Giving a small bow, he asked, “what can I do for you?”

“Oh, it’s not what you can do for me, you’ve done plenty. It just occurred to me that I never really thanked you for the other day,” she saw him relax and lean against one of the big boxes, “so, thank you mister Munson. I truly am in your debt.”

Smirking, he crossed his arms, “you are very welcome, although if I hadn’t saved you, and if my attempts hadn’t worked, I probably would have been hanged right about now.”

“Well, I’m very glad that you’re not. I prefer you this way,” she fiddled with her lacy gloves, “alive and breathing.”

Not saying anything, he simply stood there staring at her, making her shift under his penetrating gaze, “So, do you work out here?” she looked around, noting the many cobwebs.

“Some days, yeah,” he nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, “but others, I’m actually up at the house, if they need an extra body for something. Out of all the freaks down here, I’m apparently the one that cleans up the nicest.”

“Really? I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.”

“I’m aware,” he chuckled and glanced to the side, “but I’ve seen you.”

“Well, from now on, I’ll see you,” she promised, taking a step closer to him, “I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget your face,” felt the corners of her lips twitch, “not after what you did for me.”

“My estate has countless chambers so I would love to someday fill them all with kids,” the dashing Lord Harrington relayed, taking another sip of his tea.

“So, you’re fond of children, are you?” she shifted in the stiff upholstered chair opposite his.

“Fond of them?” he laughed, “no. I absolutely despise them, that has nothing to do with me wanting them.”

“Oh…” she bit her tongue and glanced over at her mother. “Excuse me, I think I need a little bit of fresh air.”

“Do you want me to escort you?” the gentleman rose to his feet just as fast as she did.

“No,” she replied maybe a bit too quickly, “no, thank you. I don’t want your tea to get cold.”

Slowly sitting back down again, Rosalie peeped over at her mama as she perked up, “I’ll keep him company, don’t take too long my dear.”

“I won’t,” she said over her shoulder as she pushed the large doors open.

Walking down the many hallways, through the maze to get outside, she, being too busy looking anywhere but in front of her, rushed around a corner and accidentally bumped into a firm figure.

“Uh,” she steadied herself by grabbing onto the person's sharp shoulders, “pardon me.”

“Please don’t apologise,” a familiar voice winced in her ear, “I should be the one apologising to you!”

Pulling back to gaze upon the visage of mister Munson, he was slightly more put together this time. Nothing extravagant, but clean and tidy.

“It’s you,” Rosalie smiled.

“It is me,” he seemed relieved to see she wasn’t trying to bite his head off, “whom are you running from?”

“I wasn’t running! I was merely walking briskly.”

“So, who is it?” he then dropped his smile, “it’s not my lord, is it?”

“No, he’s in his study, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good,” he grabbed a hold of her arm, “but there are still eyes everywhere, come.” Pulling her into the nearest room, which happened to be one of the many libraries, this particular one was the green one. “So, if it’s not your father, then who is it?”

“…Lord Harrington.”

“Right, I saw him arrive this morning. He’s a bit of a rake if you ask me.”

Tearing her arm free, she defended, “he is a gentleman and a scholar and would be a great match for me.”

“Then why were you running?”

Sighing, she turned around and walked towards one of the grand bookcases, trying to avoid the dooming topic at hand.

Running her fingers over the numerous spines, she asked quietly, “can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Almost coming out as an innocent whisper, she asked, back still turned to him, “have you ever kissed someone?”

“Hmm,” he hummed through a remembering smirk, “I’ve kissed someone.”

“Yeah?” she turned around, nervously clasping her hands behind her back.

“Mhm,” he nodded slowly.

“What was it like?”

His eyebrows shot up, “excuse me?”

“What was it like when you kissed her?” she repeated her question, biting her lower lip.

“Why do you wanna know?” he squinted his eyes, walking a few steps closer to her, “I mean, you’ve probably gotten real cosy with a bunch of fancy fellows, so you know.”

“Oh,” she blushed, averting her gaze, “um…”

“Have you never- have you never kissed someone?” he stammered, “but you’re a duchess!”

“I was asking what it was like when you kissed someone, that’s all!” she raised her voice, fighting the urge to just run and hide from the embarrassment.

“…because you haven’t done it?”

“Well…” Rosalie rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, “I don’t know if it counts…”

“Oh, well what was the situation?” he asked with a reassuring smile.

Looking up at the ceiling, she told very slowly, “I had fainted and couldn’t breathe…”

“Oh, you mean when I-…” Munson put two and two together. The look he then gave her was one of both compassion, but also pity, “oh, my lady…”

“No, you know what, it doesn’t matter,” she rushed out, feeling like she was being burned alive, “forget I said anything,” she hastily tried to reach the heavy door.

“Wait,” he caught her arm, screeching her body to a halt, and before she knew it, she felt his lips against hers. Completely stunned, her eyes never shut, so when he pulled back, she swore she saw a glimmer in his chocolatey ones as he blinked them open and breathed out, “that, is what it's supposed to be like,” he brushed his thumb over her soft sleeve, sending a shiver down her spine. Then, light a bolt of lightning, he realised what he had just done, whom he had just done that to, “oh… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-,” he took a step back, “that was-… I am so sorry.”

“Wait, you…” she caught his billowy shirt, clumsily attempting to coax him back “do you mind… I, um, it just surprised me.”

Flashing the tiniest of smirks, and leaned back in, grabbing both sides of her face. This time ready, she let her eyes flutter shut and followed his lead. It was soft, drawn out, but gentle.

It only felt like a second had passed, but in reality, it had been a lot longer. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers and breathed out deeply, “call me Eddie, please.”

“Eddie…” she tasted the name on her lips, smiling at the way it felt.

Giving her one last peck on the cheek, he moved to the door, only stopping to give a quick wink over his shoulder at her still dazed form, “see you later, Rose.”

Stirring in the linen sheets, Rosalie heard a knocking at her door, but it didn’t sound like it was coming from the usual intricately carved front door to her room, but rather from the small camouflaged one in the corner near her large canopy bed. Who could be knocking on the servant's door this late after sundown?

When no one entered, just knocked softly once more, she pulled back the covers and tiptoed over to investigate.

Creaking it open, she saw none other than Eddie himself, standing there on the steps of the dark servant's staircase with a soft smile on his lips and a hazy, yet blissful look in his eyes.

“Mister Munson, what are you doing here?” she gasped, clutching her chest lightly, suddenly very aware of the thin chemise she had on.

“Rose,” he slowly pushed his way inside. Almost stumbling over the threshold, he closed the door behind him, “I thought I told you to call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” she corrected herself, then repeated the unanswered question, “what are you doing here this late at night?”

Catching some of the white material of her nightgown with his fingers, “I wanted to see you…”

Glancing over at the tall grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room, she filled in with furrowed brows, “at 11 o'clock at night?”

“Yeah,” he smirked, grabbing her small hand with his own.

“Whyever would you want to see me this late?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you this late at night?” he leaned in to give her a kiss.

Inhaling sharply at the recognition of the taste on his tongue, Rosalie held onto his cheek and pulled back to search his dark eyes, “are you sloshed?”

“As a matter of fact, yes I am,” he said proudly.

“Did you attend some ball I wasn’t aware of?” she jested, shaking her head lightly at his state.

“Nah,” he waved her off, disconnecting his fingers from hers to go inspect her soft bed, “Jeb down in the stables just wanted a few of us to test out the whisky he’s been trying to brew,” sitting down on the mattress, he pretty much immediately flopped down, moving his arms as if he was trying to make a snow angel in the fabrics, “bloody hell, how do you ever get anything done when your bed feels like this?”

Cocking her head, she giggled, “you enjoying it, are you?”

“Fucking love it! Why doesn’t my bed feel like this?”

“I don’t know, what does your bed feel like?”

Taking a moment to think, he nodded, looking up at the canopy above, “hay. Lots and lots of hay.”

“Really? What are you, a horse?” Rosalie leaned against one of the tall bedposts. “You certainly have the mane of one.”

Sitting up, he crawled closer to her, “why, do you wanna ride me?”

“What? I don’t think that would be as effective a form of transportation.”

“Who said anything about transportation?” he now sat at the foot of her bed.

Looking down at his smirk, she still didn’t get what he was hinting at, just continued to stand there, not knowing how to reply.

Bringing a hand up to the lower part of his face, he brushed a finger over his lower lip. After a moment of silence, he uttered seductively, “what were you doing when I knocked on the door?”

“Just, lying in bed,” she shrugged, not knowing why he wished to know.

“Did I interrupt anything?” she looked down to watch how his fingers had once again found purchase in the bottom of her chemise.

“Only my failed attempt at falling asleep…” her brows furrowed.

Slowly moving his hands up her legs, past her knees, “you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Why is this so intriguing to you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he slowly stood up, “it’s late at night, you’re all alone and from what I’ve heard, you recently just kissed a very handsome bloke.” Being just inches away from her face, he breathed out as if it was obvious, “all of the elements are there.”

“There for what?”

Squinting his eyes at her, Eddie wasn’t sure if she was just playing coy or if she truly didn’t know. “…for you to touch yourself.”

“What do you mean touch myself?”

Leaning back a bit, his mouth hung agape. “Do you honestly not know what I’m talking about?”

“Do you think I’d ask you if I knew?”

“Oh, wow…” he exhaled, taking a step back, looking speechless.

“What,” Rosaline got nervous, “is it something bad?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad, I just-… really didn’t know what a proper lady like yourself knows of such things. Maybe it’s not quite the same up here in your world.”

“Well…Are you going to tell me what it is or not?”

Letting out a drawn-out sigh, he looked her deep in the eye and told her hesitantly, “…it’s when you touch yourself to feel good.”

“…feel good?”

“It’s like when you lie with someone, but on your own,” seeing her brows only furrow further, he kept going, “you don’t have to be making love to feel good.”

“So, what, you just…” she let out an airy chuckle, running her hands up and down her arms.

“No, Rose, um,” he caught her arms, giggling shortly, “it’s more like here,” he guided her hands first over the heave of her breast, “but especially down here,” he breathed out, bringing her hand down to the lower part of her stomach, just before her legs. “You find that thing that makes you feel like you’re on fire to think about and then you keep going until it builds and grows into what may be the best thing you can feel…”

“And that’s something that people do? It feels good?”

“Yeah, it’s one of the most natural things to do and especially if you don’t have a companion physically there to make you feel that way.”

Biting her lip, she brushed her fingers over his.

“…will you teach me?”

“Will I… what?”

“Teach me? Or… I’m sorry, is that improper to request? It is, isn’t it? I apologise, that was immensely scandalous of me to-”

Effectively silencing her panic, he kissed her, holding on to either side of her face.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment, “I would love nothing more than to teach you.”

“Well… what do I do?” she asked him as he took a step back, admiring her from a distance.

“Here,” he pointed, “sit back on the bed,” and she did as he asked, scooting back against the numerous pillows resting against the headboard, while he kept his distance, sitting down at the bottom of the mattress, leaning up against one of the bedposts.

“What now?” she rocked her foot nervously.

Cocking his head to the side, he breathed out slowly, then flashed her the warmest of smiles, “lean back, relax… bring up your knees a bit,” she bent them slowly, keeping her eyes locked on him, “yeah, just like that, see, barely begun and you’re already a natural.”

Looking deeply into her wide eyes, what he said next came out in a low, slow tone, “did you know that I’ve always fancied you?” not letting her answer, he continued, “because I have. Ever since my da dropped me off here to be my uncle's problem and I never saw him again. Seeing you for the first time, in that moment, I forgot everything bad, everything cruel in this world. It was like looking at an angel, you are an angel. And even though you weren’t mine, you couldn’t even see me, I still adored you,” his small smile was strong and true. “I used to make up these stories in my head, where I’d meet a creature in the forest, and it would grant me a wish. And every time, I wanted to spend my wish on you. It was always you. I wanted you to see me as I see you. I wanted to wake up and be a proper dandy so that I could just stride into this huge house and ask your father for your hand without me being executed on site. I feel like that wish came true. I’m still just me, but, you see me. I see it, you look at me exactly the way that I look at you. Adoration, trust, hunger…” he almost growled that last word, sending chills down her spine. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The things that I wanna do with you… to you… I've had a lot of time, I don’t know if I’d be able to get through it all even if I had you for the rest of my life. If I could, then I would, even if my lord would kill me, I’d still try, because you, you’re not just someone you can forget. You can’t forget an angel…”

“Eddie…” she breathed out, almost feeling dizzy after all of that.

“Rose, tell me… do your nipples feel as hard as they look right now? Because it looks like they could cut through glass with the way they're poking out and staring at me…”

Glancing down, she gasped lightly at the sight. He was indeed correct. Blushing, she lifted up one of the hands, the one that had unconsciously been digging into her soft thigh, up to give her right breast a soft squeeze.

“So?”

“They- they-… yes,” her voice shook as the touch sent delicious tingles throughout her body.

“There is another thing I want you to check for me,” his fingers tightened around the duvet beneath him. “Take your other hand for me and bring it down between your legs…”

Slowly hiking up her long skirt, she sprawled her fingers out over her inner thigh and looked up to check with him, “here?”

“A little higher, Rose,” she moved it slowly, squirming lightly under her own light touch, “higher,” he exhaled, looking entranced by her state already. When she finally touched the spot he was guiding her towards, she let out a tiny whine, “there…” he bent forward swiftly, almost as if it was pure instinct, and tugged up her dress more, gathering it at her waist. Trailing his fingers down from her hips to her legs, he spread the apart more, ensuring his front row seat was supreme.

Leaning back again, he cursed underneath his breath, “fuck Rose… your honeypot looks fucking perfect. That’s it, perfect, touch yourself just like that, don’t be afraid to explore, feel around, get to know your own body…”

“Use your fingers, spread yourself apart for me darling. Show me just how wet you are,” and when she flashed him more of the glistening pink flesh, he actually moaned, “Jesus Christ. I just wanna bury myself in you and never come up for a breath of air again.”

“Touch your little pearl, right there, more pressure than that, trust me,” she heard a heavy belt hit the floor, making her blink her half-closed lids up to focus on him again. Her jaw went slack as she saw how his hand went from lazily palming himself through his breeches to loosening the restraints and showing his hand down to pull out his heavy cock. All of the breath left her body at once and she couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“Are you drooling?” he chuckled softly.

“What?” she ripped her vision away from his tight fist’s movements. Drooling… wasn’t she supposed to get this wet? He didn’t call it drool before, is that just another term for it?

“You are drooling,” he reached out to wipe the corner of her mouth.

“Oh.”

“Please trust me when I say, that is the best compliment you could give me,” he said in a gravelly voice, quickening his movements.

“I, um… it’s a lot…”

“I know Rose, but please keep going just a few moments longer, trust me on this one.”

How could she not trust him implicitly?

He was right. It truly was the best feeling she had ever experienced.

Meet me in the place where you finally thanked me.

Rosalie read the quickly scratched note once more, biting her lip. It had been slipped under her door from the servant’s staircase. It wasn’t the first note Eddie had left her, more like the dozenth. She’d saved them all, put them in a small chest underneath her bed.

Looking up again, she searched the animal-less barn, but found no luck.

Sneaking up on her like a cat, Eddie grabbed her by the waist and yanked her into an obscured corner.

“Eddie! You gave me a fright!” she huffed out as he settled her against a tall half wall.

“Shh, not so loud, there are people around,” he kissed her neck, already running his hands all over a manor of intimate places.

Feeling herself turn into goo already, she let out a small moan. “Eddie, there are people around…”

“Exactly,” he started to gather up her full, green skirt, “so, be quiet.”

Like two magnets being drawn to each other, his fingers found her dripping folds.

“Fuck… you were thinking about this, weren’t you?”

“I-…”

“You were, weren’t you?” he let out a genuine giggle. “Is this,” he slipped a finger into her small hole, ”what you were thinking about? Huh? That’s what’s got you this soaked?”

Not being able to control the sound that escaped her lips, her eyes rolled and her whole upper body slumped forward, moaning into Eddie's light tunic.

“Shh,” he hushed into her hair, placing a few small kisses on her temple as he eased his ring finger in next to his middle one. Rutting his hardness against her side, he groaned, “you know I love the noises you make, but if you don’t keep that beautiful mouth shut, someone will hear, someone who isn’t afraid to walk straight up to my lord and tell him that one of his servants has his fingers so deep inside his daughter’s cunt that she’s seeing god himself.”

“Eddie,” she muttered, lifting one leg up a bit, caressing it up his own, trying to draw him close.

“Yes?” he nudged her head a bit, making it lull back.

“It’s-, oh!” his warnings didn’t work when he was touching her like that. “I-“

Muffling her moans, she felt Eddie’s free hand release its iron-like grip on her covered breast and clasp over her mouth.

“See, now I’m beginning to think that you’d actually like us to get caught. For people to see the power that a nobody like me has over you,” he whispered into her ear, hand still firmly covering her rosy lips, “you would probably do anything I wished, wouldn’t you? Especially when I’ve got you wrapped around my fingers like this,” his fingers were now rocking her fast and hard, focusing their attention on a specific spot, causing her cunt to produce the most intoxicating of squelching echoes, “do you want me to ruin the status you hold in society, huh? Let people see how I’ve tainted their perfect little Rose and turned her into nothing more than a common whore? Because that’s what you are now, aren’t you? You’re just a little whore. My little whore.” Truly shaking under his grasp, she let go and nearly felt like she was gonna pass out. “That’s my girl,” he pulled his fingers out, vigorously rubbing his whole palm over her crying cunt, before briefly dipping back in a few times, making sure he got every last drop.

Finally removing his fingers from her still dripping pussy, as well as the one over her vibrating mouth, she heard him giggle sweetly.

“What?” her emerald skirt rustled back down into place, as he took a tiny step back. His now drenched thigh being very hard to ignore, she blushed, unable to take her eyes off of the stain, but also the stiff tent right beside it, “oh, I’m-“

“Rose,” he caught her chin, “don’t even think about apologising.”

“Do you have a spare pair of breeches with you?”

“No, but I’m plenty filthy as it is. I can easily carry on the rest of the day like this, and no one will be the wiser. Besides, I like it. A lot.”

Flickering her eyes down to his perpetual grin, she pulled him down for a hungry kiss.

Whimpering against his tongue, he pulled away, turning his head to catch his breath, “fuck. If I wasn’t as strong a man, I’d have knocked you up weeks ago. Just look at you, practically begging for my seed…”

Nudging her nose against his cheek, she breathed out, “please Eddie…”

Chuckling, he shook his head lightly, smile only growing wider, “I have to get back. I’ll see you at nightfall?”

“Knock five times,” he begrudgingly ripped himself free and she leaned back against the wall, watching him closely, “I can’t wait to repay you the favour.”

Laughing, he backed up even more, “I’m not fucking you, Rose.”

“Well, then you’ll just have to think of something else.”

“So, I ask you, Lady Rosalie Beatrice Elizabeth Rowe III, my dear Rosalie, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

The shiny ring on lord Harrington’s pinkie was icy cold to the touch, almost felt like it was burning her tender flesh as he held onto her hand possessively.

“I…” her voice shook, “I cannot.”

“But, I’ve already spoken to your father, it’s all planned out!” he blinked hard and tried, “I love you!”

Those idyllic three words had never sounded more strained, more forced, than they did coming from his lips. “Do you truly believe that this is what love feels like? Do you struggle to breathe whenever I am in your presents? Do you lay awake every night yearning for me to be beside you?”

“Miss Rowe,” the gentleman scoffed, letting go of her hand, “I am talking about love, not some silly fairy-tale.”

Knocking twice on the splintery cottage door, Rosalie drew her heavy cloak closer around her trembling body.

“Rose?” Eddie answered the door, worry immediately painting his features, “what are you doing here? Get in, you’ll freeze to death out there,” he ushered her inside, briefly poking his head out, seeing if she’d come alone, before slamming it shut once more.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she kept her vision glued to the rough floor.

“What if someone saw you? It’s not dark out yet-“

Looking up as she exhaled, she cut him off, “Lord Harrington proposed to me.”

“Oh…” he breathed out, not meeting her eyes. He sounded like he was preparing himself for a goodbye.

“Eddie, look at me.” His glassy, chocolaty eyes finally found hers, “I didn’t-… I couldn’t…”

All of the air left his body. “Are you saying that you declined? But he could have given you everything.”

“Not everything,” she took a step closer.

“Rose, I can’t provide for you as he can! I can barely give you a roof over your head and food in your belly.”

“But you can give me you, all of you, and that’s all I need, that’s all I want.” Grabbing onto his cheek, she declared, “I want you. I love you.”

Breathing out slowly, he closed his eyes and melted into her hold, “what are we going to do?”

“Run away together?” she suggested with a smile, wrapping her arms around him.

Disappearing into her ocean eyes, he complied, “okay. At dusk. By then there won’t be as many prying eyes.”

“Let them see. They can’t stop us, I won’t let them.”

“God, I love you,” he muttered, before they collided, locking their lips in a heated kiss.

Snaking a few fingers up between their bodies, Rosalie undid the clasp on her cloak and let it fall to the floor with a muffled clang. Feeling his hands find her waist at an instant, they slowly started fiddling with the many laces, pealing the several layers off slowly, one by one, never detaching his lips from hers to look down, but simply feeling his way through it.

And with a resounding thud, the last piece of fabric left her body and hit the floor. She had gotten impatient and helped along, rolling down her stockings and throwing the chemise over her head.

Scooping her up, he walked her just a few steps before gingerly setting her down on the bare table nearby. Gasping for air, they parted.

The journey his eyes went on next might have made Rosalie feel self-conscious if it had happened a few months ago, but not now. Now, all she did was lean back on her elbows and tighten the hook her legs had around him, pulling him closer.

Jaw slack, Eddie couldn’t rip his clothing off fast enough, revealing the chilling, yet beautiful ink that was scattered all around the corners of his skin.

Running his palms all over her sprawled-out body on the table in front of him, she laid a hand on top of one of his exploring ones, making his eyes once more find hers.

“Eddie Munson,” her eyes glistened, “I am but your humble servant.”

His body shuttered at her doting words, and breathed out, “as I am yours.”

Bending closer, pressing his pelvis up against hers and he interlocked his fingers with her own, “I’m yours until the moment I draw my last breath. I love you, Rosalie.”

Feeling his cock glide through her more than ready folds, she pulled him down to get another kiss, whimpering, “I love you, I love you, I lov-“

Her declaration was turned into a gasp as he eased his thick length into her.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Rose,” he fought the urge to roll his eyes back, “holy fuck.”

Catching her lips with his, he gave her a few mind-numbingly slow thrusts.

Panting, he rested his forehead against hers, “you’re hugging me so tight, fuck. Sucking me in so deep like you never want me to leave your cunt,” he snapped his hips sharply, making her legs tremble around him.

Suddenly withdrawing from her, making her walls clench around nothing. Her whole body still fuzzy, she whined, “no, no, no, no, no.”

Swiftly flipping her around, he yanked her by her soft thighs, filling her again in one fell swoop, knocking the air clean out of her.

“I’ll never fucking leave you, you hear me?” he practically growled through his clenched jaw, gliding a hand up her back, pressing her upper body down flush against the table.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” she slurred, as the filthy reverberations of skin against skin filled the cabin.

“Mine, huh?” his fingers dug into her hips, “everything that is yours is mine?

“Everything,” he slammed into her, sending her body jerking forward into the hard wooden table.

Palming her ass, he spread her apart, gliding a thumb up and down, quickly discovering how far her arousal had spread. “How about this, huh?” he danced the pad of his thumb over the small bud just a few centimetres away from where his cock was stuffing her full, “this mine?”

“Mhm…” she hummed as just the tip slipped in, sending her over the edge.

“Jesus, look at you just creaming all over my cock,” he looked down at her in adoration, mesmerised by the vision.

Feeling her walls clamp down on him, practically stopping his movements from just how tight it was, he slumped forward, groaning into her shoulder as her own orgasm caused him to pump his seed deep inside of her, painting her cervix, “I love you so much.”

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[roseweaslies]

a little help / p.p.

peter pettigrew x potter!reader. in which peter is sick of being a virgin, and y/n potter is more than willing to help him out.

word count: 

warnings/contains: smut, loss of virginity, second person pov, unprotected sex (be safe, folks)

author’s note: don’t know how or when or why this idea came to me but... it did. thought being a potter!sister made more sense as to why she would have a sort of kinship with peter. no shame. maybe a little.

masterlist ϟ requests are open.

“Hey,” she said casually, breaking Peter from his thoughts. His focus snapped away from the crackling fire to look at her.

“Hey,” he said, giving her a small nod.

“Why’re you awake at this hour?” 

“Couldn’t sleep. Sirius snores really loud some nights.”

Y/N laughed. “Why doesn’t that surprise me...”

“You?”

“Same thing, but I think it’s just be I consumed too much caffeine today. Couldn’t shut my brain off. Figured I’d come down here and read for a little bit,” she said, waving her book in the air.

“How are things with Anna Goldstein?”

“What? How’d you know about that?”

“Word travels fast, you should know that.”

“I guess.”

“My brother told me.”

“Sounds about right,” Peter laughed nervously.

“You guys have kissed, right?”

“Of course.”

“Anything else,” Y/N said teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows at Peter.

Immediately his cheeks flushed and he looked away from her. “Please don’t make fun of me,” he said. 

“I won’t. I promise,” she said kindly.

“Well, no... we... we haven’t... done anything else. Just kissed.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, even though she wasn’t all that surprised. Peter had never been particularly popular amongst the ladies. He was sweet, but he was shy, and it was hard to stand out when his friends were larger than life. “That’s okay.” “We haven’t done anything and that’s because, well, I haven’t done anything more than like, an quick little kiss...”

“I see.”

“You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!”

“I”m just reminding you.”

“You really haven’t done anything more than kissing? Ever?”

“Y/N!”

“I’m just asking a question!”

“No, I haven’t. And I know that she has... so I just don’t know how to bring it up. It’s kind of embarrassing to say out loud.”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to be a virgin anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“Peter, are you attracted to me?”

“What?”

“You heard what I said.”

“I-I, sure, but not in like a, you know--” he sputtered helplessly and took a deep breath. “Look, you’re really pretty but I... I don’t like you that way. No offense.”

“Good,” she whispered, scooting closer to him on the couch.

“What are you doing...” he asked as her face inched closer to his.

“Let me know if you want me to stop...” she whispered.

When all he gave in response was a nod, she connected their lips and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He responded eagerly, sitting upright and placing both of his hands on her thighs. She moved them upwards, so that his fingers were dangerously close to her centre.

She pulled away with a devilish smirk and whispered “I’m going to help you out. Is that alright?”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Y-yeah, if that’s alright with you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she said sweetly.

As she continued kissing him, she slid her hands under his shirt and ran her hands along his chest, his skin cool and covered in goosebumps beneath her fingers. She rested one hand over his heart and noticed it pounding. She pulled a way with a small laugh and muttered “relax, and tell me if you want to stop at any point.”

She gave him a small peck and reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it to the side.

“Do you wanna take mine off?”

She noticed him visibly gulp and couldn’t help but smirk at the effect she had. Her tank top was tight, so small that it was reserved only for sleeping, but apparently it had its uses elsewhere. He looked at her chest with a restrained sort of desire and reached out for the hem. With shaking hands his slid the tank top up and off of her, his jaw nearly going slack at the sight of her exposed chest. He reached for her breasts and she sighed at the feeling of his hands cupping her. 

“Mmm,” she moaned as he gave a gentle little squeeze. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, making her shiver with pleasure. 

“You can put your mouth on them, if you want,” she said, her voice low. With a surge of courage, he leaned forwards and captured one of her breasts in his mouth. She responded with a sharp gasp and arched her back.

“Yes, Peter,” she moaned quietly as his tongue swirled around her nipple. He switched to the opposite breast, rubbing the other one gently and occasionally tweaking the nipple. His movements quickened or slowed based on her moans and she was impressed at how quickly he was catching on.

“I think... I think you should put your mouth elsewhere,” she said through gasps. His mouth unlatched from her breast and he looked at her, wide-eyed. Sure he was excited, thrilled even, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified.

She laid down and slid her shorts off. Still wearing a thin pair of white underwear, she spread her legs for Peter. 

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and looked between her legs, a mix of fear and desire all over his features.

“Do I... do I just...”

“I can guide you through it,” she said softly. He nodded and with the few instincts he had, began to kiss the inside of her thighs.

“Good place to start,” she breathed, already tangling one of her hands in his sandy hair.

He moved his lips upwards, placing a trail of kisses up the smooth skin of her thighs, causing her to shiver. “Ah, yes,” she breathed, eagerly awaiting the feeling of his mouth at her core. 

“Start just by licking me. Go slow if you need to.”

With two fingers Peter spread her open a little bit and began to lick, his tongue making slow, drawn out motions. Y/N let out a hmmm in pleasure and relaxed back into the couch.

“Alright, now you’re gonna wanna move your focus to my clit,” she instructed. 

“The... the what?” he asked her, his face flushed with embarrassment. Y/N simply giggled and reached downwards, giving her clit a quick rub to show him where she needed him most. “There,” she whispered, and Peter nodded.

“They say if you move your lips like you’re eating an apple, it’ll feel really good.”

With another nod, Peter moved his tongue and began to flick her clit with small, darting licks. She repressed a soft groan and knotted her hands in his hair again. Seeing Y/N’s pleased reaction, Peter began to do as instructed, moving his lips around your clit, sucking on it, and darting his tongue out every now and then to adjust the pace of things.

“Peter, oh!” She cut herself off, gasping. “That feels so good,” she moaned out. She could see a proud little smirk forming on Peter’s face as he came up for air.

“Are you sure this is the first time you’ve done this?” she said with a laugh. Instead of replying, he just sped up the movement of his lips, causing her to let out a moan so loud that you clasped your hand over your mouth to prevent any similar noises from coming out again. Waking up the entirety of Gryffindor tower wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

As he quickened his movements, Y/N threw her head back and screwed her eyes shut, coaxing him to keep going. “Please, Peter, just like that,” she whispered.

When her legs began to shake and she felt a high coming, she used her hand in his hair to guide his face away from her warm, senstive centre. 

“You’ve never had a blow job?”

“Never.”

“Well, let me know how I do. Sit down.”

They swapped positions, and Peter’s eyes went wide as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him. She grabbed the base of him and eagerly put his length into her mouth.

He gasped, louder than he’s ever gasped in his life. She was good at this, and he had never felt anything like it. Nothing he could ever do to himself compared.

“Y/N...” he said quietly, his voice trembling. 

She didn’t stop. His voice moaning out her name so delightfully pathetically was exactly what she needed to keep going. She bobbed her head faster, moving her hand up and down on the places her mouth couldn’t reach. He was falling apart, and knew he couldn’t finish right then and there.

“W-w-wait,” he said, practically shuddering. With a pop, Y/N pulled her mouth away, still stroking him gently.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes so wide and so beautiful.

“Y-yeah,” he said. “I just don’t want to finish... yet...” he was embarrassed, but she just smiled kindly.

“Are you ready?” she asked, continuing to move your hand up and down his length, smirking at the sight of him - chest heaving and eyes threatening to roll back. 

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Perfect, stay there.”

She stood up and moved to straddle him. She grabbed his length with one hand and steadied herself by gripping his shoulder with the other. His eyes were fully trained on her, still not one hundred percent certain that this was happening.

Her eyes, however, were busy verging on rolling into the back of her head as she slid down onto him. He was bigger than she had expected when he revealed himself to her, and oh, could she feel it now that he was inside of her. It took her a few seconds to fully lower herself down to him and adjust to his size, but once she did she let out a small laugh and looked at him.

He gasped so loud that he even surprised himself. He knew sex was going to feel good. It’s all his friends could tell him after they had all lost their virginities, but this feeling... it was unlike anything else. Pure ecstasy, the feeling of her walls, slick and tight around him. The sight of her, breasts bouncing ever so slightly as she moved up and down. It was a miracle he wasn’t downright salivating.

“Good?” she asked, still moving up and down slowly to adjust herself.

“Bloody perfect,” he moaned.

“I’m glad,” she whispered against his lips, kissing him passionately and sliding her tongue into his mouth. He wasn’t the best kisser, far from it, but she guided him. She mumbled “gentle” when his tongue darted into her mouth too aggressively, and she held onto his chin to keep him in place when the kiss was feeling nice.

As their tongues tangled together, she got used to his size and started to move quicker. A combination of bouncing up and down and moving her hips back and forth sent him deeper inside of her, making them both moan in pleasure. She pulled away for air and he gripped her hips tighter, now helping to guide her movements.

“How’s?” she gasped. “That?” an even louder gasp.

His eyes were shut so tightly, the pleasure overwhelming. He made himself open them to reply. “Amazing,” he breathed out.

He sat up straighter and buried his face in her chest, planting wet kisses and little licks all over her breasts, much to her pleasure.

“Oh, Peter,” she moaned, and the words circled his brain over and over. Hearing a girl say his name in this state... he could have finished right then and there.

In fact, he was about to. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, and she knew it as well. He was shuddering, gasping, and her noises only egged him on even more.

“Y/N...” he said quietly. “I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Good,” she said, her confidence in full effect. Proud that she had unravelled him this fast. She sped up her movements even more as his fingers tightened on her hips. Peter swore he was seeing stars as he came with a loud groan, his face collapsing between her breasts.

Wanting to tease him just for a second longer, she made a couple circles with her hips. He whimpered into her check and finally, she pulled herself off.

“Wow,” she said, using a quick spell to clean up the mess between her thighs, then the mess around his crotch.

“Wow,” he laughed nervously. “Thanks.”

“You are very welcome,” she smirked. She pulled her clothes on and went back up to her dormitory. Peter stared after her, questioning if this was even real life.

[roseweaslies]

ೄྀ࿐𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 || 𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻

content: 18+ MDNI + mean girl!reader + cheating (reader on bf) + fingering + eddie is a little shit and loves bratty!reader + reader flips hair over her shoulder at one point

pt. 1 | pt. 2

“I can’t help but dream of his head between my thighs, how his hair would feel against my—”

Eddie slams the diary closed with a triumphant smirk. Well, well, well. 

When Eddie Munson woke up this morning and set off on his daily trek through the woods, he never imagined he’d find a diary, pink leather bound and worn with use, lost among the dirt and leaves by the side of the trail.

Daughter of the sherif, girlfriend to hawkin’s golden boy, the town’s fucking ice princess. Thinking dirty, filthy thoughts about him, the town freak. 

He can’t decide whether he’s surprised or not. You’ve always been a prissy little thing, staring down your nose at everyone who dared step in your bubble, but you’ve always had a special attitude towards him. not a nicer one… oh no. Just… special. 

Something Eddie realized from the very first time he ever set eyes on you is that if getting under your skin was an olympic sport, he’d be taking home all the gold medals. It became a game between you two, ever since he walked into your shared homeroom that cold morning of your sophomore year. Something about him bugs you, sets you on edge, and since he’s never been one to back down from a challenge, Eddie Munson took on the role of your most inspired antagonist.

Now that you’re both out of high school things have mellowed out. Mostly because you just don’t see each other often enough for your rivalry to retain its vicious edge. Still, when you do bump into each other—at the local diner or the drive in—Eddie's mouth instinctively curls into that old familiar smirk that makes you grind your teeth.

Last time he saw you was in that forest clearing where he conducts his… business. He was sitting on the old picnic table meeting with your boyfriend, a jock with less working brain cells than a teaspoon, when you showed up. Eddie couldn't believe his luck when he saw you come out of the tree line, annoyed snarl set on your face and pristine white sneakers side stepping every puddle of mud like it was radioactive waste.

“Alright, princess?” he’d smirked while your boy toy eyed up the baggie he’d just overpaid for.

You’d scoffed, a petty bitchy sound, while you studied your manicured nails. “Do I know you, freak?”

The interaction had been short, but it reignited that familiar brewing fire in Eddie, one he hadn't been able to satiate ever since—not with the pretty waitress at Johnny’s Diner, not with the clerk at the board game store he frequents, and definitely not with his hand, no matter how many times he pictured how pretty you’d look bent over the hood of his car tits bouncing every time he buried his cock inside tight pussy. No one could take those sharp eyes and ever sharper, poisonous tongue out of his mind.

And then, he found your diary.

Pulling up into the diner’s parking lot, Eddie's cock is already swelling. With a final look in the rearview mirror, he fluffs up his hair and exits the car, swinging the keys round his finger as he sets off towards the door. The bell above the doorway rings when he steps in and an older lady waves at him from behind the counter. “Anywhere you like, sweetheart. Be with you in a moment.”

“Not to worry, Rose. I won't be staying.”

With a winning smile he beelines his way to the booth tucked away in the corner, eyeing your pink tennis skirt and bitchy expression like a cat sizing up a canary.

It’s unfair how devastatingly beautiful you look, fiddling distractedly with your straw while your friends yap about something that clearly does not interest you. When his footsteps get close enough for you to hear you look up, and suddenly the straw is being crushed between your fingers.

He tips an imaginary hat. “Howdy, princess.”

The table goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Your friends are staring, wide appraising eyes flittering between you and the smirking boy undressing you with his eyes.

You flip your hair over your shoulder, eyeing him up and down as you lean back against the booth, arms crossed over your chest. “Can I help you, Freddy?”

The obvious jab makes his grin widen. “Just saying hello, it’s been a while. Can’t help but miss you, sunshine. My days are not the same without your effervescent charm.” 

“Well you’ve said your hello,” you shoot him a fake smile just as your eyes roll and then you’re waving your hand at him in dismissal. The pretty glitter on your sharp manicured nails makes his cock twitch. “Off you go, then.”

“Actually, since I’m here,” he pulls the small pink journal from his back pocket. “See, I found this little—”

You’re on your feet before he can finish, molten lava in your eyes. “Give me that.”

“Oh,” he grins, “it’s yours? I wasn't sure you see, the contents seemed very…” he taps the notebook against his chin, “out of character,” he laughs. “Yeah let’s go with that.”

Eddie takes great joy in the way your eyes are flying around the place, making sure no one’s watching your interaction closer than they should. Your friends are still staring, but they flinch when you throw them an icy glare. Clearing your throat, you smooth out a strand of hair that got in your eyes. “Not sure what that is, Ernie. but I can help return it to its rightful owner, I suppose.” You shrug, “I do know everyone in town.”

“That's very considerate of you,” his grin widens. “Always knew you had it in you.”

The smile you shoot back at him is saccharine but it’s dripping poison. Grabbing your purse, you storm past him, slamming your shoulder against his as you strut towards the front door with your nose up in the air. Eddie bows to your friends. “Ladies,” and then follows the clickety clack of your heels all the way till you’re standing outside the diner.

You whirl around on your heels, “Give it to me.”

“Now, now,” he lifts his hands, like he’s trying to appease a wild animal. “Before you start, I have a couple questions. I have to make sure it belongs to you, can’t go handing someone’s personal belongings to any whack job that claims it's theirs.”

Your perfectly plucked eyebrow rises. “Whack job?”

Eddie grins. “Nothing personal, princess. Just being a good samaritan.”

Your lips tighten. “Well go on then, ask your question so we can be done with this.”

It's cold outside the diner, and your little skirt is not doing much to protect you from the gust of wind that makes you shiver and cross your arms in search of warmth. Eddie is nothing if not a gentleman, so he smiles wide at the goosebumps on your legs. “Sure you wanna do this here? Some of the stuff in here seemed quite…” he scratches his jaw in faux consideration, “personal.”

He can see the way your teeth grind together in annoyance while you look around. “Do you have a car?”

Eddie’s arm opens to the side towards the hidden away spot where he parked. “Right this way, your highness.” 

You side eye him and then roll your eyes, pushing past him again and heading towards his beat up car.

Eddie eyes the way you curl your lip at his ride from across the hood. “Now watch what you say, princess. I don't mess about my car. She’s a beauty.”

“Sure she is,” you mutter under your breath, making a show of pulling your sweater over your hand before reaching for the handle. There’s something on the seat, a jacket. With your nose wrinkled in disgust, you grab the jacket by the sleeve and toss it into the backseat.

“Hey!” Eddie scowls and reaches back to shove the jacket to the side, revealing the electric guitar you nearly smothered. “Watch it, I don't mess about my baby either.”

“You really need some human friends, Munson. This whole hyper attachment to inanimate objects is getting pathetic.”

Eddie's lips curl, “Munson, eh?”

Your eyes roll back with a huff and then your hand is hanging in the space between you. “Give it to me.”

“Now sweetheart, you know I can't do that.” his smile is honeyed, “not after what I just read.”

He takes great pleasure in watching you process what he’s saying. It’s in the way you fist at your skirt, the way he can practically feel the heat on your face from where he’s sitting. 

For a second you don’t move, he’s not even sure you’re breathing. And then, “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, that’s okay, let me remind you.” He flips through the diary to a dog eared page. You glare at the folded corner. Eddie scans through the page and laughs, “Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” He clears his throat theatrically. “Sometimes I think about how big he mu—”

A hand smacks over his mouth. Your eyes are glaring daggers, steam practically coming out of your ears. Your face is burning and his cheeks hurt from smiling. “I'm going to kill you.”

Eddie licks your palm and laughs when you squeal and wipe it on his sleeve. “Babe, if you do that you’ll never get to find out!”

“Shut up! You’re insufferable, give that back!” You’re smacking at his arm now. “And don’t call me babe.”

You let out a bratty scream when he just laughs and watches you slump down on the seat with your hands over your face. “This isn’t happening. I’m going to make your death slow and painful.”

“Kinky.”

“I’ll play Madonna at your funeral.”

“Now that’s just cruel.”

You can’t see it, not with your hands covering your eyes, but Eddie has to adjust his jeans at the groan that comes past your lips.

“Sweetheart, you’re being shortsighted here.” He tilts his head to the side when you look his way, your face smooshed against the headrest, lips pulled into a huffy pout. “The way I see it, this is an opportunity for the both of us.”

Your brows furrow. “What does that even mean?”

“Well,” he sighs and shifts so he’s facing you on his seat. “You have dirty little thoughts about me,” he shushes you and squeezes your lips shit when you go to interrupt, “and I’m not a fucking idiot, so obviously I want to fuck you too.”

Eddie can’t deny the way his heart does a weird thing when you gape at him. God, he’s down bad.

“I—you can’t be ser—” he watches you turn to face the front and take a deep breath as you smooth out your skirt and clear your throat. “If this is a joke it’s not a funny one.”

There's a curious seriousness to the way you say it, and Eddie is intrigued. Why would he be joking?

“It’s not,” he tsks and chucks at your chin, playful smile on his face. “Don’t get shy on me now, princess.”

You smack his hand away, your fire seemingly back in stock and Eddie can breathe normally again. “I have a boyfriend.”

He laughs at that, “from what I hear that’s never stopped either of you.”

You’re glaring at him again, and his cock is stirring. If you keep this up he won’t be able to last long enough to get his pants off.

“This is stupid we don’t even like each other!”

“Oh I like you plenty,” his voice is teasing when he says it, and a little mean. He can tell it gets to you by the way your thighs twitch.

Your eyes are a little glazed over the longer you stare at him, a little softer, and he watches you gulp. The way your throat bulges when you do it is just about enough to make him explode. “We shouldn’t”

“Who are you trying to convince, sweetheart?”

The second your teeth bite down on your bottom lip, Eddie knows he has you. He shifts toward you, eyeing your every move. “I'm going to kiss you now, yeah?”

Your eyes flash out the windshield and then you’re back to him. He smirks, “they can’t see, sweetheart. I’m a strategic parker.”

Your lips twitch, “bit overconfident, don’t you think? Hubris has killed many a hero, Munson.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I think this is my year.”

Before you can quip back, his lips are on yours. He kisses like he talks, mean and playful and tough around the edges. He bites at your bottom lip and swallows the broken moan that bubbles up in your throat. The day-old stubble peppering his skin prickles at your palms, and that’s when you realize your hands are cradling his face, knees digging into the seat as you lift and lean towards him, melting into his body as his hands move you to his lap. Your knee bumps against the gear shifter when you climb over it, startling a whiny “ow!” out of you.

Eddie eats up each little whine with a smile, loving the way your brows furrow into a grumpy frown before you slap at his arm. “Be careful with me!”

The bratty tilt of your voice makes his hands tighten on your waist, lips curling in amusement. “Sorry, babe, just got excited.” He kisses your lips and rubs gently at your knee. “You hurt anything else?”

You really are like a spoiled child, and how fucked is he that he loves every second of it? 

You cradle your hand to your chest, genuinely annoyed frown on your face. “You hit my hand, my fingers hurt.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, bringing your hand to his mouth so he can brush his lips over your knuckles. His eyes hold yours captive as he kisses at the pad of your fingers. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” and then slowly he sticks two of them in his mouth.

The sight is erotic, filthy in ways only Eddie can manage to be. His tongue swirls around your digits, warm and wet against your skin, and you can’t help but think back to those fantasies that brought you here. His tongue between your legs. “Eddie”

He hums around your fingers and slowly pulls them out. “What, baby?”

You’re gasping for air before he even touches, forehead knocking against his. Your voice small and needy and demanding. “Please.”

His smirk makes something tighten in our belly.

“Please what, pretty?”

Your eyes harden on him, that old familiar glare, but the neediness in them softens the edge. Your hand moves down to your clothed core. “I think you hurt me here too.”

His grin is wicked. “Yeah? Need me to kiss it better?”

You nod and Eddie is just about ready to propose.

He swiftly lifts you up to your knees and slides his hand between your thighs, toying with your pussy over the soft fabric of your underwear. The wetness on his fingers makes him groan. “Can’t eat you out in here, babe, not enough room. And trust me when I do it I’m gonna need the room.” He huffs out a laugh, “I'm gonna take my time with you.”

He shushes the wounded whimper that escapes you with a kiss. “Don’t go crying yet,” he chuckles, “plenty of other things I can do to you here, sweetheart. Not to worry.” He brushes hair out of your face with a faux pout, condescension written all over his face. “Know you dream about it, baby.” He licks at the seam of your lips, “my tongue in that pretty pussy, making you come.” He grins at what sounds like a sob. “Gonna have to earn that, pretty.”

He’s wholly endeared by the way your face finds refuge in his neck. “I hate you.”

The roll of your hips against his takes all the heat away from your words, making him bury his laugh in your hair. “‘Course you do, baby.”

You huff, but then you’re startled when you remember the hand he still has buried in your underwear. “Wha—”

“Still gonna make you come though.”

His fingers swipe through the curls that frame your pussy and then to the wetness that awaits him, teasing at your clit but skirting around it until you’re crying into his neck. He shushes you the whole while, working you up until you’re soaked and dripping down your thighs. “You’re making a mess, sweetheart. All over my pants.” He groans, “gonna have to walk around smelling like you the rest of the day.” He smiles when you shiver, “you like that, baby? Knowing everyone’s gonna smell you on me?”

You should've known he’d have a sinful mouth. With every word he plucks at a tightly bound cord that holds you together, slowly and meticulously pulling you apart.

The tip of his finger pokes at your entrance, “you ready, babe? Gonna take my fingers?”

“Y-yes!” Your hands fist at his hair, nose digging into his cheek, “please, please, Eddie.”

He sighs a happy sigh, “atta girl, say my name.”

“Eddie,” the whine is enough to make him slide a finger in. It’s only one, but you’re so tightly wound, so pent up, that you clamp down hard enough to make him moan. 

“Gotta ease up, honey. Gotta let me in,” he coos until you relax, his thumb rubbing loose circles on your clit until he can slide a second finger in. “There you go, knew you could do it, pretty. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Eddie,” your babbles are mindless, and if you had any sense of awareness you'd make a mental note to die of humiliation at the fact that he’s rendered you brainless with only his fingers. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Please”

“I know, I’ve got you, sweetheart, ‘know I do.” The arm that's not pistoning in and out of you clamps down around your waist to try and hold you still, your heart beating a mile a minute against his chest.

Suddenly he laughs, breathless and smug. “Is this the answer then? Get a couple fingers in you and the little brat turns into a little angel?”

He doesn't expect the kiss he gets in response but he’s never been one to complain.

Eddie holds you through every second, the build up and then your orgasm, shushing you when you try to pull away. “One more, you can give me one more, can’t you, baby? There you go, good girl, give it to me.”

When you finally come down you’re a melted puddle on his lap—chest heaving against his, trembling hands still clinging to his hair.

Eddie's hands run up and down your back as he presses distracted kisses to the side of your face.

He hisses when you shift on his lap. “Wha—” you look down and find a wet spot on his jeans. Your lips quirk, “is that—”

“You have a girl moaning and crying on your lap and then come talk to me about not coming in your pants.”

His smile breaks through his forced scowl when you dissolve into a fit of giggles, tipping over into his chest once more while he huffs and brushes hair out of your face. “Yeah, yeah, laugh away. Eddie please! no one can make me come like you plea—”

A hand slaps over his mouth for the second time that night and Eddie grins at your glare. He brings a thumb to your cheek as he licks at your palm for the second time today and speaks over your squeals, “you have some mascara there, babe. Must be all the crying.”

He snickers at the way you slap his hand and half turn, still on his lap, to fix your make up in his rearview mirror. 

Eddie sucks his fingers clean, noting the way you stare at the move through the reflection, and reaches for your diary. “Well, we got that done.” He plucks a pen out of somewhere in his car and draws a checkmark on the page. He flips through the other pages and goes back to the dog eared one that started it all. “Think we could explore a couple more of your filthy fantasies tonight?”

[roseweaslies]

Unexpected

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Cheerleader!Reader)

Request: I wanted to request a fanfic where the reader is a VERY BIG social butterfly, popular, pretty and just overall a sweetheart. Eddie thinks she’s like the cheerleader(basically byatches) until she stands up for one of the hellfire boys(preferrably Dustin) when Jason picks on him. She absolutely HUMBLES Jason, and Eddie is left like ‘’well shit.. I’m in love’’

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Jason being Jason, Dustin being bullied, some fluff, sort of enemies to lovers (from Eddie's perspective at least)

AN: This was an anonymous request! I am so so so sorry that it took me forever to get to, but I hope you enjoy it. I had a lot of fun writing it!

Eddie Munson didn’t like cheerleaders. Aside from Chrissy Cunningham they were all the same in his book, rude, selfish, ignorant, and full of themselves. Honestly, he felt the same about all of the popular kids at school, not just the cheerleaders. And as far as he was concerned that included you.

Chrissy had introduced him to you and claimed that he would love you, but Eddie was not convinced. You were a cheerleader…which meant you were part of the dark side. It didn’t matter that you had Chrissy’s stamp of approval, she had dated Jason after all (she broke up with him after her rose-colored lenses broke and she saw what a truly terrible person he was). Nope, it didn’t matter that Chrissy constantly told him how nice you were and how funny and smart you were. Eddie knew a monster could be lurking beneath the beauty and charm, so there was no reason for him to like you.

But that was about to change.

-

The Hellfire club sat around their usual table, eagerly discussing the plans for their next meeting. Mike Wheeler walked over and took his seat and began poking at the mystery meat on his lunch tray.

“I don’t think my stomach can handle eating this shit anymore.”

“And that’s why I pack a lunch.” Grant held up the crinkled brown paper bag his lunch had been in.

“Think of it this way, Wheeler, if you keep eating it, maybe you’ll get superpowers.” Gareth suggested.

“And what superpowers would a slab of watery mystery meat give a person?” Mike asked.

Everyone was expecting Dustin to chime in with a long-winded explanation of the exact superpowers one would receive from rancid lunch meat, but it remained silent at the table.

Eddie looked over at the seat next to him and gave a slight frown, “Where’s Dustin?”

Everyone turned to Mike for an explanation.

Mike rolled his eyes, “I’m not Dustin’s keeper. I have no idea where the hell he is.”

“It’s not like him to be late for lunch.” Jeff said.

“He’s probably just talking to a teacher or something.” Grant waved it off without concern.

Something felt off to Eddie. He couldn’t explain it, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, “I’m gonna go look for him.”

The guys watched Eddie walk out of the cafeteria at a brisk pace.

“His paternal instincts kicked in and needs to go fetch his son.” Gareth joked, causing the others to snicker as they continued eating their lunch and going back to their original conversation.

-

Dustin had been on his way to lunch, his nose stuck in the latest issue of X-Men, when he bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” Dustin mumbled as he tried to walk past whoever it was that he walked into, but they blocked his way.

“Now, is that any way to apologize?”

Dustin looked up and felt a chill go down his spine when he saw Jason Carver glaring at him.

“Looks like someone needs to teach you some manners.” Andy, one of Jason’s henchmen as Eddie liked to refer to him, said with an almost evil smirk on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry. I should have been paying attention.” Dustin held up his hands in defense, hoping they would leave him be, and he could get to the cafeteria in one piece.

“No, I think Andy has the right idea,” Jason snatched the comic book out of Dustin’s hand, crumpled it up into a ball, and threw it over his shoulder, “someone should teach you some manners.”

Andy shoved Dustin against the lockers and held him there. Jason pulled his arm back, ready to throw a punch, and Dustin closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow.

“Jason, what the hell are you doing?!”

Dustin opened one eye and saw you running down the hallway. You managed to get to Jason in time and push him away from Dustin before he could land a punch.

“I’m just teaching the kid a lesson.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you were,” you pried Andy’s hands off of Dustin and protectively placed yourself between him and the jocks, “you two are pathetic, picking on some innocent freshman. Is your masculinity so fragile that you feel the need to prey on some kid who’s have your size to feel powerful? I truly will never understand what Chrissy ever saw in you, but she dumped your ass in front of the whole school, isn’t that right?”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

“Whatever,” you said in a mocking tone, “get the hell out of here.”

Dustin watched Jason and Andy walk away and then turned to his savior, you, “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” You looked him over for any injuries and thankfully found none.

“Yeah, I’m okay. My X-Men on the other hand, not so much.” Dustin pointed to the wad of paper that used to be his comic book.

You picked it up and tried to fix it, but ended up tearing a couple of the pages, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I can get a new one when I get my allowance this week.” Dustin took the comic from you and threw it in the nearest trashcan.

You could see the disappointment and sadness on Dustin’s face and it pulled at your heartstrings. You had seen him around school, and he seemed like a sweet kid. It looked like he could use some form of cheering up or at least a distraction, “So, which X-Men is your favorite?”

“What?” Dustin’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“I’m a fan of Storm and Nightcrawler.”

“Really?” He perked up a bit and it made you smile.

“Yeah.”

“You read comic books?” Dustin asked as the two of you started walking towards the cafeteria.

You nodded, “Yeah, I think they’re cool.”

With those five words, Dustin had officially decided that you were one of the coolest people he had ever met, right after Eddie and Steve of course. The two of you began to discuss your favorite comics as you continued down the hallway.

-

Eddie rounded the corner and sighed in relief when he found Dustin.

“Dustin, where have you been?”

Your conversation with Dustin came to a halt and you felt a flutter in your chest when you saw Eddie. Ever since Chrissy had introduced you to him, you had developed quite a crush on him.

“Oh, hi, Eddie.”

Eddie finally noticed you and went right into protective mode, “Dustin, is she bothering you.”

“No,” Dustin smiled, “actually, she kind of saved me. You should have seen it, Eddie. Jason and Andy were totally about to beat the crap out of me and then she swooped in like freaking Wonder Woman and got them to back off. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen…well one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie was taken aback, “Really?”

“Jason’s an absolute asshole, and whenever I get the chance, I like to humble him.” You said with a satisfied smile on your face.

Eddie couldn’t stop himself from laughing, “Wish I could have been there to see that.”

“Well, you can catch the next one. Jason is nothing if not consistent in his pathetic quest to spread his toxic masculinity all over this godforsaken school.”

“You make an excellent point.” Eddie could feel his cheeks beginning to ache from the wide, bright smile on his face.

The way Eddie was looking at you made your stomach fill with butterflies and heat creep into your cheeks. This was the most attention you had ever gotten from him, and it made you feel nervous, but in an excited way. If it hadn’t been for your tutoring session you would have stayed there and gotten lost in his eyes, “I need to head to the library, but I trust you’re in good hands now, Dustin. Guess I’ll see you both later.”

“Bye!” Dustin waved excitedly.

“Bye.” Eddie’s smile shifted into a goofy grin as he watched you walk away.

Dustin stared at Eddie for a moment before speaking, “Dude, are we going to lunch or not?”

“Yeah, yeah. You can go.” Eddie waved him off and continued to stare at your retreating form.

A knowing smile grew on Dustin’s face, “She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“What?” Eddie finally snapped back to reality.

“Nothing. I was just saying that she’s cute…right?”

Eddie lightly pushed Dustin to the side and scoffed, “Come on. Everyone’s been wondering where you’ve been.”

“And you’ll be wondering about your girlfriend for the rest of the day.” Dustin teased.

“Girlfriend?” Eddie laughed.

“I don’t know, looks like she may have liked you. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Whatever.”

Just as Dustin predicted, Eddie could not stop thinking about you for the rest of the day.

-

The next morning, Eddie was surprised to find your pacing by his locker. He thought you looked adorable in what appeared to be a slightly flustered frenzy, going to slide something into his locker, and then deciding against it, and then starting the cycle over again.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the day?” He felt a little bad when you jumped in surprise.

“Oh! Hi. Um, I was really hoping you wouldn’t catch me doing this.”

Eddie leaned against the lockers and smiled, “You slipping poison into my locker or something.”

You chuckled nervously, “No, um, I was wondering if you could give this to Dustin for me.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide when he saw what was in your hand, an X-Men comic book, “You got him a comic book?”

“Actually, this is mine, but since Jason was a prick and destroyed the one Dustin was reading yesterday, I wanted him to have this. It’s the first issue with Storm and Nightcrawler and we were talking about the two of them yesterday and Dustin said he could never get his hands on a copy of that issue, and when I got home I remembered that I had one…well, anyway, I just thought it could make up for Jason being an ass, but I don’t know where Dustin’s locker is, so I was hoping you could give it to him.”

“That is…wow.”

“Is it weird?”

Eddie was speechless. You were so different from what he had thought. He mentally beat himself up for making assumptions. You were the furthest thing from rude, selfish, ignorant, or full of yourself. You were funny, thoughtful, and above everything else, kind. It had been less than twenty-four hours, but he knew he was already head over heels for you.

“Not weird at all; very thoughtful. He’s gonna love it.”

“Great! Thank you.”

Eddie flipped the comic open and found a small note tucked inside the cover page. He lifted it up between his fingers, “What’s this?”

You looked up and your eyes bugged out, “Nothing!”

Eddie lifted the note above his head when you went to snatch it out of his hand, he then jumped up and switched it to his other hand so you couldn’t reach it. You managed to snag it from him and then in a moment of panic you shoved it into your mouth.

Eddie busted out laughing, “Why—why would—why would you put it in—in your mouth?”

“I panicked.” Your words were marbled with the wad of paper in your mouth.

“Any particular reason you didn’t want me to read that note.”

You removed the note from your mouth and tossed it onto the ground, “No reason. It just said to give the comic book to Dustin…and maybe you could tell me if he liked it over dinner sometime.”

Eddie blinked a couple times, allowing what you said to sink in, “You were gonna ask me out?”

“Yeah.” You said bashfully.

“Did you still want to go out, or did you not want me to read the note because you changed your mind?”

You couldn’t look at him, because you knew the second you did you would lose all your nerve, “I still want to…if you would want to that is.”

“I would love to.”

When Eddie took your hand and gently placed a kiss to your knuckles, it took your breath away.

“I thought we could grab dinner and a movie tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is such a long time; whereas tonight is only a few hours from now.” Eddie smirked.

“Tonight would be even better.” You smiled.

“Then I guess I will see you tonight.”

“Great! I can’t wait.” You placed a quick kiss to his cheek and made your way to your locker.

A goofy grin was plastered on his face the rest of the day as he counted down the hours until your date.

[roseweaslies]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie

I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)

-

As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.

Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”

Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.

“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.

You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.

“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.

You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.

Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.

Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”

“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”

“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”

“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.

He melts. “Sure.”

You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.

“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”

As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?

The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.

The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.

“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.

“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”

“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.

“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”

Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.

You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.

“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”

“Payback?”

“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.

“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”

You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”

“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”

“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.

“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”

Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”

“Eh, ten.”

You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.

The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.

The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.

That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.

Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.

The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.

The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.

You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”

“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”

You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.

Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”

You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”

“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”

You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”

You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”

“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.

“What?”

“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”

You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”

“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.

“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”

Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.

You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.

You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.

Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”

“Absolutely!”

-

Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.

Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.

At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

-

A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.

The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.

For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.

“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Your heart shatters. “That good?”

“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”

Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”

The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”

“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”

He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.

“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”

You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.

“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”

The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”

He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”

“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.

“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”

The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.

His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.

He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.

-

The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.

“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.

It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.

“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”

Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.

Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.

“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.

“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.

In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.

“Sure.”

As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.

On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.

The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.

The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.

The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.

That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.

His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.

By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.

“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”

“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”

How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?

“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.

The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.

“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”

Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”

You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”

After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”

“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”

Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.

The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.

Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.

The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.

Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”

You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.

“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.

“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”

“Why?”

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”

“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.

“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”

“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”

“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”

“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.

“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”

“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”

No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”

“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.

“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”

“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.

“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”

“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.

“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”

“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.

Because it turned into hell.

-

As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.

It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.

Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”

“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.

He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”

“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.

“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.

You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.

The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.

Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.

Right?

The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.

It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”

“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”

“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.

She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”

“Yes please!”

You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”

As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.

“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.

“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.

“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.

“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.

“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.

The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.

She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.

You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.

Where she’s a friend.

You have to try.

“What are we watching?”

Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”

“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”

Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”

“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”

As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.

“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.

“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.

You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.

Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.

He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.

With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.

His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”

Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.

Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?

Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.

Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”

Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.

Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.

You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–

“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”

No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.

Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.

As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”

You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.

Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.

“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.

You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.

“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”

She nods.

“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”

“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.

“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.

Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.

“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”

Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.

“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.

“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”

“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.

“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”

“When did you start coming?”

“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”

Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.

Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.

Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.

The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.

“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.

“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.

Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.

“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”

“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.

“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.

“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.

“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”

“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”

“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.

In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.

The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie��s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.

As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.

Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.

Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.

“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”

Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.

Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”

“Hmm?”

“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”

If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”

That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.

-

There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.

On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.

Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.

Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.

She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.

“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.

“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.

You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”

“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”

“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”

“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.

You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.

“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”

“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.

“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.

She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.

Oh. He’s not going to.

“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.

Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.

If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.

Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”

You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.

You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”

Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.

-

Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”

“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”

You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”

“To who?”

You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”

“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”

“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”

“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”

That, you agree with.

“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”

You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.

You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.

That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.

The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.

It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.

It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.

As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.

Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.

Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.

As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.

A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.

Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.

The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.

You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.

Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.

His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.

She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.

Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.

You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.

The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.

The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.

-

The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.

Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.

He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”

You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.

“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. How was the cupcake?”

“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”

You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.

“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.

“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”

“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”

“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.

“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.

“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.

“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.

“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”

Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.

“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.

“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.

“Can we do something? Just you and me?”

He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”

…that never happened.

-

The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.

That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.

Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.

Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.

It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.

Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.

It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.

Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.

Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.

It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.

Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.

Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.

When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.

“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”

“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.

“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”

You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.

News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.

Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.

When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.

As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.

“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.

“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”

Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.

You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”

“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.

Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.

You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.

The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.

Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.

“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.

Daniel.

“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”

“Retribution.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”

What the fuck?

The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”

“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”

Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”

“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”

You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?

His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.

The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”

The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.

Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.

When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.

The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”

You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”

He stands there, blankly watching.

“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”

Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.

“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.

“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”

You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.

Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.

“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.

By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.

He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.

He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.

The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.

As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.

Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.

From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.

-

The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.

As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.

On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”

You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”

He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”

As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.

“Anything after that?”

You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.

“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.

“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?

Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.

“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.

Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.

“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”

Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.

Eddie.

“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”

“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.

Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.

“Is that all?”

He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”

That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.

From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.

The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.

Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.

Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.

For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.

Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.

This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”

You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.

“It’s me.”

You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.

-

Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.

He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?

You would think.

So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.

Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.

The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.

“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.

Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.

“I didn’t even know he was having one.”

She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”

He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.

He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.

By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.

He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.

Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.

Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.

He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.

Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.

“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.

His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.

The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.

Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.

Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.

He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.

Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.

Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.

When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.

Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.

No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.

That conversation goes as well as can be expected.

In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.

Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen��”

“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“Is she okay?”

“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”

Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Physically?”

Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”

“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”

Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.

“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…

Should Eddie have called the ambulance?

“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”

“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.

“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.

“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.

“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.

Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”

“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”

Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”

“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”

“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”

“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”

“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”

-

“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.

But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”

You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”

“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”

You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”

You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.

It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.

Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.

“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.

Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.

The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.

Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.

“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.

“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”

You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”

“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”

If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”

As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.

He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–

“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.

“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.

His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”

Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”

“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.

“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.

“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.

She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”

“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”

“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”

“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”

“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.

“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”

Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.

“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”

“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”

“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”

Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.

“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”

On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.

Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.

“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.

“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”

His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”

Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.

You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.

Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.

It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.

You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”

“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”

“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”

-

You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.

The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?

He’s more than willing.

When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.

Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”

You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.

White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.

The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.

As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.

It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.

The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”

You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”

You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”

You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.

He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.

The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.

Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.

You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.

“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”

“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.

His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.

“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.

You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”

His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.

Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.

His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.

The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”

You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.

You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.

Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”

It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”

“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.

“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.

Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”

The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.

He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”

“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.

“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”

“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”

Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”

Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.

It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.

Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.

“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”

“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”

Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”

You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.

He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”

You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.

On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.

The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.

You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.

Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”

He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.

There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.

Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.

All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.

Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.

“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”

You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”

“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.

“Probably.”

He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”

Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.

“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”

The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.

Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…

“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.

“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”

It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”

Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.

This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”

He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”

You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”

“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”

You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”

He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”

He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.

“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.

Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”

You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”

“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”

His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.

Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.

You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.

He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.

He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.

You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.

You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”

“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”

With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”

You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”

Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”

“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.

“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.

“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”

He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.

You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.

I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.

You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.

The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.

You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.

The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.

At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.

You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.

You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”

You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”

Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.

“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.

“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”

Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.

His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”

His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.

“What was that?”

He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”

You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”

“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”

You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.

He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.

“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”

“Mm, almost there, baby.”

“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”

Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.

You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”

“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”

“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.

“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.

“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”

“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”

You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.

“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”

You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”

He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.

His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.

“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.

“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”

“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.

“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.

“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”

“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.

Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”

His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.

He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.

“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”

“Fuck-you, y’sure?”

“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.

“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”

Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.

You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”

You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”

He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”

It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.

-

Thank you so much for reading, remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

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[roseweaslies]

Are You Together?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Request: Hi! Could I please request an Eddie x fem!reader where they are like best friends and they're like "all but dating." And maybe it takes place around the time when Dustin, Mike, and Lucas join Hellfire and after a couple of weeks, one of them finally asks if Eddie and reader are dating and Eddie gets all blushy because he's been in love with her since she joined Hellfire. And reader tells the boys that they're friends because Eddie rejected her when she asked him out and then Eddie is just like "WHAT?????"

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: little bit of fluff, friends to lovers, all but dating, some curse words

AN: This was an anonymous request! Sorry this took a minute to get to, but I hope you enjoy it!

Dustin, Lucas, and Mike were confused. They had recently joined Hellfire, Eddie had taken them under his wing and promised to help make high school at least somewhat tolerable for them, and so far they were loving Eddie’s sadistic campaigns. However, there was something the three of them couldn’t quite figure out, were you and Eddie dating?

It seemed like you were, but they couldn’t tell for sure. The two of you were practically attached at the hip, one never seen without the other. They knew that the two of you had been friends for years and knew everything about each other. You even finished each other’s sentences sometimes. There was a natural fluidity to everything the two of you did, which was obvious to everyone.

There was not so subtle flirting and witty back and forth banter between you two. One of you would always compliment the other or go along with a bit the other started. There were also many inside jokes. Sometimes all either of you had to do was look at the other and you both would burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

You even engaged in PDA. Hugs were constant, the two of you would hold hands a lot, Eddie would even allow you to play with his rings and his hair. This was something that became second nature, you wouldn’t even be aware that you were doing it, and neither did Eddie, he would just unconsciously lean into your touch.

However, the boys had never seen the two of you kiss. Which was what gave them doubts that you were dating.

“Come on, if they were dating, they would be all over each other,” Mike said as the three of them walked over to their lunch table, “Eddie’s face would be permanently glued to hers.”

“Not necessarily,” Dustin stated, “maybe they are dating, and they just don’t like to kiss in front of people. I mean they hug and make heart eyes at each other all the time, that’s gotta mean something.”

Mike snickered, “Eddie doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to be shy about PDA. I say they aren’t dating.”

“Eddie let’s her play with his hair…” there was a hint of frustration in Dustin’s voice, “that is cold hard proof that they are dating. Eddie doesn’t let anyone touch his hair; he told me so himself.”

Lucas set his tray down once they reached the table and shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe they’re really close friends. Just because they hug and everything doesn’t mean they’re dating.”

“I guess we’ll never know for sure.” Mike sat down next to Lucas.

Dustin slammed his tray down with exasperation, “I’m tired of not knowing! I’m gonna ask them as soon as they get here!”

“Ask who what?”

Dustin let out a startled shriek causing Mike and Lucas to chuckle. Eddie stood at the head of the table, you right by his side, both with curious expressions.

Dustin stammered, unsure how to ask the question he and the others had been dying to know the answer to.

“Go on, Dustin, ask them.” Mike said with a smirk.

Dustin glared at him before turning to you and Eddie, “So, we were just wondering, are the two of you…together…like dating.”

You and Eddie looked at each other and laughed, “No.”

“Really?!” Dustin was shocked.

“We’ve been friends for years, but we’re not dating.” Eddie pulled out your chair for you before taking a seat himself.

“Yeah, Eddie rejected me when I asked him out three years ago.” You looked up from your lunch when you were met with silence. You turned next to you to see Eddie’s stunned face; it would have made you laugh if you hadn’t been so confused.

“I’m sorry…” Eddie sat up straight and looked you right in the eye, “WHAT?!”

It was your turn to be confused, “What do you mean, ‘what?’”

“When the HELL did you ask me out?”

“Uh, three years ago, it was my sophomore year, I had just joined Hellfire. After my first campaign, I helped you clean up and asked if you wanted to go to the movies and you told me no.”

“No, no, you helped me clean up and then you asked me if I had ever seen Psycho before because it was playing at the drive in that weekend, and I told you that I had seen the movie before, but that you should totally go see it because it’s good. You never asked me out!”

“Yeah, I was implying that I wanted us to go to the movie together…on a date.”

“Okay, but that wasn’t clear!”

“Yes, I realized that, so I tried again about a month later.”

Eddie’s eyes bugged out in shock, “WHAT?!”

“Remember, I went with you to band practice and then you drove me home and I told you that I liked you,” you were met with stunned silence from Eddie, “I told you that I liked you and you said, ‘I think you’re pretty great too’ and—"

Eddie cut you off, “I’m glad we became friends.” The memory came flooding back to the front of his mind.

“After you said that, I figured you didn’t feel the same way, and misinterpreted what I meant, so I wiped the egg off my face and moved on.”

The boys winced at Eddie, the secondhand embarrassment kicking in. Lucas released a huff of air, “Rejected twice, that’s rough.”

Eddie looked like he was second guessing every single decision he had ever made since that moment. He was mentally beating himself up. Three years. For three years he had been pining for you, hoping that you would eventually return his feelings, but apparently all that time you had. And not only had you returned his affections, oh no, you had asked him out and he had unknowingly rejected you…twice.

“I am so fucking stupid.”

“Eddie, it’s fine. You didn’t feel the same way. It’s not your fault that you misunderstood what I meant.” You shrugged.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up so high they were hidden by his bangs. He pulled your chair out, turned it to face him, and leaned in towards you, “I have been in love with you for three years.”

“Wh-what?” You searched his eyes for any hint of mockery but found nothing but sincerity.

He leaned in closer and spoke slowly, making sure to over enunciate each word, “I have been in love with you for three years.”

Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all looked at each other and stood, grabbing their lunch trays. Dustin uttered a quick and awkward goodbye before following the others to another table on the other side of the cafeteria.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” you felt like your entire world was spinning, but not necessarily in a bad way, “you’ve been in love with me, and I’ve been in love with you, and we’ve both been idiots. That sound about right?”

Eddie nodded, “Yup.”

“Well,” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “are we gonna do anything to rectify this?��

Eddie smiled, “I don’t know, you free this weekend?”

“I’ll have to cancel some plans with a friend of mine, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he will either.” Eddie winked and you both smiled.

[roseweaslies]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART IV)

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: fourth and final part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II, PART III i've had such a blast writing this series, thank you all for your support and lovely words! now pull up the vitamin string quartet version of "love story" and enjoy!

Your heel dug into the gravel of the Bridgertons’ drive as you exited the carriage with grace. You gently raised your gown just centimeters off the ground as you walked towards the house, your mother and father following a fair distance behind you. You hadn’t stepped inside yet but your heart was already in your throat. You admired the front garden as you stepped up the marble stairs. Roses clung to the fences and wrapped themselves around the banisters decoratively. You took a deep breath. No matter what happens tonight, you told yourself, you will be alright.

The halls were lined with lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses of varying family names, old as the land itself. The sound of a string quartet wafted through the air, indiscernible over the chatter of civil conversation. You followed the dulcet tones, seamlessly weaving your way through the home you had come to know so well. You turned a corner and were met with an array of couples mid-dance, bodies moving with such effortless grace it was a pleasure to just stand by and watch from the sidelines. You surveyed the room, inspecting each man with almost analytical precision. One of them was your mystery man.

“There you are.” sighed Benedict as he appeared at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You chanced a look at him, and you wished you hadn’t. He was gorgeous; his hair shone beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, his eyes shimmered like moonlight bouncing off water. Mostly it was his smile (that shy, boyish smile) that set off a chain of dominoes within you, resulting in a nervous pang in your stomach. 

“Have you?” you asked, keeping your response brief so as to mask the waver in your voice.

“Indeed I have.” he smirked, but his good humor quickly faded as his face took on a more solemn look. “I wish to apologize for the things I said when I saw you last. I was a fool, I still am.”

“Ben-” you began to protest, but were quickly cut off.

“No, really!” He went on, his cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “You were right in every respect. And marriage doesn’t have to be the way I described. You know I have an inclination for hyperbole. Anyway, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear-”

“Benedict.” you said sternly. “You’re rambling.” You took his now trembling gloved hands in your own and met his gaze. 

“I just wish you could forgive me.” he whispered for only you to hear.

“My dear Benedict.” you sighed, a sweet smile curling at the corner of your lips. “I forgave you the minute I left. I hate to admit this to you, but you should know I never have been able to stay cross with you for too long.” Now it was he who smiled, a beam so bright it alone could have lit up the ballroom. 

“Well, then.” Benedict began. “There’s no use of a lovely lady coming to a ball just to stand around in corners, is there?” And with that, he gently led you onto the dance floor.

You fell into a rhythm that came surprisingly easy to you, as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. The strings filled the room with jovial, romantic music, lifting the spirits of anyone who would listen. It was impossible not to dance, not to feel as if you were floating. Your hand fit in Benedict’s like they were made for the sole purpose of intertwining. And when your eyes met, sparks flew, visible to no one but the two of you. 

To anyone else, it might seem that the two of you were in love. What a silly thought. Though, you couldn’t help but feel that such an assumption might have some truth to it. You most definitely behaved in the childish, playful way lovers do. You confided in him without a shadow of a doubt. And he did always manage to send a certain prickle of excitement down your spine, not unlike the spark of an electric current. Good God! 

You were in love with Benedict Bridgerton.

The song came to an end, and you curtsied before Benedict, while he bowed. You were sure he was about to request another dance but you were left wondering when Daphne tugged on your sleeve. “Where have you been?” she squealed delightedly. “Come, mingle!” You laughed, mostly from the nerves, as you shot Benedict one last glance over the shoulder before being whisked away.

You had made decent conversation and exchanged pleasantries with members of the ton for long enough. You were beginning to grow restless, your foot tapping mindlessly against the hard floor. You needed to find Benedict. You excused yourself sheepishly, but you had no time to give that any thought. You simply turned on your heel and began scouring through every room in search of Benedict.

You checked the parlor, the staircase, even the room where Benedict could usually be found painting or writing. He was nowhere to be found. Just when you were on the verge of abandoning hope, you thought to look in one last place.

The intoxicating scent of roses and lilacs overcame your senses as you stepped out into the garden. The lights from within the house bled out onto the patio, casting everything and everyone in it in a golden hue. There he stood, hands clasping each other tightly behind his back, standing straight as a pencil. He seemed to be deep in thought, since he was startled at your timid call. “Benedict?” He turned, his brows furrowed. “Tell me, dear.”

“I need to tell you something.” you began. “I have a bit of confession to-

“So do I.” he said, his eyes lowering to the neatly kept grass. “And I think I should go first.”

“What would make you think th-”

“It’s me!” he blurted out, not able to contain himself a second longer. “It’s always been me! Those letters, your admirer. Surely you must have known, somewhere deep in your soul, that it has always been me. Never before have I felt this way for anyone, my dear. Every moment I spend in your presence, it gives me such immense joy that I cannot help but carry it with me wherever I go. If you would have me, Lord, if you would have me- I should be the happiest man who ever lived, I swear it. I love you! Even when you are cross with me and I with you I will always love you with an unrelenting passion. Even if you should reject me, I will never stop loving you, for I have no choice in the matter. Surely there must be worse fates and than to love one so unconditionally.”

You stood before him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide as plates and welling with tears. You tried to speak but couldn’t. So many thoughts rushed to your mind, memories of your many years as friends, every occasion where you felt what he described. There were too many to count. So instead of speaking, you simply took a step forward, pulled him in by his tie and pressed your lips to his in a kiss so passionate you knew right then it would become the subject of many sonnets and paintings from Benedict’s part. You felt as if all the golden light which bathed the garden was now wrapped around your heart.

“I wish this moment could last forever.” you said, a joyful tear streaming down your cheek. 

Benedict laughed like a shy schoolboy as he wrapped his arms around you like a man starved and pulled you impossibly close. “Well, my love.” he beamed. “Forever has just begun.”

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd @marvel-r5 @marimarvelfan

[roseweaslies]

"I'm here, I've got you-" with mentor!finnick right after reader wins the games?! ilysm 🥺🥺

pairing: mentor!finnick odair x victor!reader.

warnings: finnick greets you after you win the games, and consoles your anxiety. something more ensues…

hunger games masterlist

Your bruised knuckles shake where you wring them in your lap; the tribute quarters are so empty, hollow and bereft of any signs of life other than yourself. You've scrubbed your skin raw in the shower, still flushed and tingling from the coarse brush you used to rid yourself of the dried blood and dirt.

You want Finnick.

You know mentors are always the first to greet victors after the games, and you need him more than anyone else right now.

The door creaks your head snaps up where you're laying. He’s at your side in an instant, concern carved into his features as he reaches out for you.

You tremble at his touch; palm against your cheek, arm hooked around your waist as he begins drawing you up and into him.

"How are you doing?" he asks, voice low and soft and caring.

The tears well almost unconsciously, catching on your waterline and spilling down your hot cheeks.

"Not so good," you admit despite yourself.

"I know, honey. I know," he murmurs, tugging you toward him as gently as he can manage. You're in his lap before you can register what's happening, and you tuck yourself up small, head under his chin, shoulders under his armpits.

"I'm sorry," you cry, "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything you were supposed to." He kisses the top of your head, hair still damp from the shower.

"Okay." You nod vehemently, almost like you're trying to convince yourself that he's right, that you're not a monster after what you had to do in the games. "Will you hold my hand?"

Finnick smiles and it pushes his dimples out- they're crescent moon shaped. You resist the urge to reach out and touch them.

"Of course I will."

His thick fingers entwine with yours like puzzle pieces, like that's where they've always been, where they're always meant to be. You bring his knuckles to your face and hold them there, against your cheek as you rest on his broad shoulder. Your bottom lip starts to tremble.

"I'm here, I've got you," he murmurs. "I'm right here."

You tilt your head to gaze at him, uninhibited affection practically oozing from your every pore. He leans in- you’re close enough to feel his breath on your face.

Your lashes kiss at the corners as your eyes flutter closed and he takes that as an invitation. His lips slot between your own like they live there and the kiss feels like coming home. When he pulls back, you chase him.

He meanders away from your lips with his kisses: the corner of your mouth, your cheek, a lingering one on your forehead. Your hand, still laced with his own, is holding him so tightly you’re scared you’re cutting off his circulation. He can feel your anxiety.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You’re smiling this time when you say,

“Okay.”

[roseweaslies]

Morning, Sunshine

A/N: Apologies for disappearing for two and a half months - life has been pretty chaotic and I’ve just been along for the ride as of late. I’m done writing for the Hunger Games for a bit - I have a small reaction idea for Obey Me plus I’m going to be ambitious and try to write something for Ryujin before the Itzy comeback, but we’ll see how far that ambition gets me. If you’re interested in a part two, however, send an ask or let me know in a reblog and I’ll happily move it up on my priority list.

TW: Ends on a cliffhanger, reader’s got some literal nerves and a serious case of obliviousness, canon-typical politics

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader (platonic but eventually grows to be romantic and slightly one-sided… for now :] )

Summary: A loving nickname given by your mentor when you were a tribute causes a butterfly effect that leads you back into the 75th Hunger Games as a much wiser person. This time, you realize that your affections for Finnick are more than platonic, but is it too late?

(<- Previous Part | Next Part ->)

Keep reading

[roseweaslies]

new and improved bingo request! fantasy au between finnick and mermaid!reader please!! i feel like it would just make so much sense that finnick would love swimming so maybe he has a routine where he goes every morning and eventually has suspicions that something is in the water with him. so one day he’s sitting at the dock and the mermaid makes herself seen with some cheeky little comment about him almost being as good a swimmer as her!! their relationship blossoms as they learn more about each other’s worlds through daily meet ups and maybe one day they meet in mermaid’s cove during a full moon where she gets her legs and maybe she asks finnick for a lesson in something a bit more advanced (-; LOL but i was thinking quote #1 from mermaid “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad” and then maybe quote #14 from finnick (darling just gives me FINNICK). so sorry this was so long, i was in a daydream coming up w this. once again i appreciate your work so much! 🧚‍♀️

—𓆩[full moon cove]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Prince! Finnick Odair x Mermaid Princess! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick always loved the water. It was his only escape from the life of the Crown Prince who just took over the Kingdom of Panem after the death of the previous ruler, Snow. The cove he went to was different, though, and it always felt like someone was watching him. He certainly didn’t expect it to be true, much less from a beautiful woman like you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - my prince Finnick dream is coming to life || foul language and cursing || inaccurate portrayal of princes- || totally little mermaid inspired kinda || accidental harm || stabbing || you have blue eyes for a little bit, like they flash || time skip || basically virginity loss || nipple stimulation || raw sex || unprotected sex || breeding kink || begging || praise ||

From where Finnick was sitting, he knew damn well that someone was watching him. He could feel it, his skin crawling as he slowly spun around in a circle, trying to wait until one of the bigger fishes flew forward, kicking his feet to stay above the water.

He really did like this, being able to be in the water - his favorite place - even if he was sure someone was watching him. When he saw a certain shine though, one he was sure was scales, he threw down his trident and watched the crimson blood fill the water. Finnick was thankful that he was in the actual ocean and not the cove he dearly loved because he was sure that the blood would never come out of those pretty waters.

He let out a whoop of happiness before something went around his ankle, gasping before he was pulled underwater, quickly closing his mouth before something wet landed on his lips, a choked noise making him gag all over again as water filled his mouth before he was able to spit it out. It makes him pause when he is able to inhale something like air, gasping as bright blue eyes meet his own before going back to a different color.

What the actual fuck?

He stared at your hands begin to move, more confused when you let out a noise somewhat like a groan, bubbles coming from your mouth before they slow, your eyes fluttering closed. Finnick gasped, hand flying to his mouth as he was still unable to comprehend the fact that he was fucking breathing on the water.

He stopped though when he stared at your face, watching as the crimson liquid that began to float into a messy cloud of red came from you - your tail.

For fucks sake.

He grabbed his trident before it could float too low, his other arm grabbing you as he slipped it into the waistband of his pants. It didn’t take him long to get you out of the water, easily laying you out on the sand. His eyes scanned your form, swallowing loudly as his hands ghost your figure, a hiss coming from your mouth making him gasp.

“Don’t be a pervert!”

“I-I’m not!”

He was so being a pervert.

Respectfully, how could he not? You were beautiful, your skin slowly dissipating into beautiful scales of purple and gold starting from your sides and your breasts were covered with a thin string beaded with shells and sea glass. Your hair formed wisps around your face like a halo, bright eyes with flecks of blue darting around until they met his face.

“Yes you are.”

“Y-You’re just…” he stuttered, unable to control his tongue as he inhaled deeply. “You’re a mermaid. Y-You’re beautiful.”

You don’t say anything as his eyes continue to scan your body, memorizing every curve of your body that he desperately wanted to hold. He had heard stories about the mermaids and their charms, but no, this was different. You were absolutely stunning in every way — your slightly-webbed fingers were adorned with gold and pearls, shells and gems threaded through strands of your hair, pearls braided into a crown — for fucks sake, he had never seen anyone as pretty as you.

When your wet hang swatted at his face though, a loud slap that didn’t hurt though the noise echoed all around the beach making his face stay to the side in shock. “Does your kind know that it’s rude to stare?” Your voice wasn’t like one he had ever heard, slightly accented and echoey, perfectly showing your mermaid enchantments.

“Y-Yes, but-”

You scoffed. “But what? You would be rude and stare after stabbing me?”

“You’re too beautiful not to stare.”

He watched your mouth zip closed, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Why do you like me?” He forgot he stabbed you until he saw the blood stained sand, gasping. “Fuck! What do I do, what do I do?!”

“Oh, calm down!” You say, giggling as he frantically started looking around. “Just… get me back to the water.”

“Fuck, do I clean it? Should I put like… seaweed on it?”

You pause, then nod. “Get that one, the purple one over there. Hurry.”

Finnick nodded quickly, rushing to stand and grab the seaweed before running back. He tore some off and started rubbing the blood away, then wrapped the rest around it and stood up. “Ready?”

“For what- oh my!” You yelled out in surprise when he picked you up easily, holding you tightly against his own body and walking toward the trees. “Wh-Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to the water.”

“I meant the sea-”

“As long as it’s water, right?” He sends you a wolfish grin, quickly finding the end of the trees and staring at the cove. He paused when he saw your eyes flash a pale cerulean, flickering from the cove to the sea as your webbed fingers shake against his shoulders. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispers, nodding. “I promise.”

“Well, you already broke it,” you say as he slowly puts you into the water, watching a small cloud of crimson hover to the top before slowly dissipating. “My mother always told me stories about this cove.”

“One, it was an accident,” he says, slowly sitting in the water as you move your arms to push yourself to the center, giggling as you spin in the water. “Two, I thought you were a fish. Like, a real fish.”

“Well I was coming to give you a fish. A big one. A nice one that could feed you for days.”

He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head. It was truly kind of you to say that, to think that, but he would probably give it to some kids he’d see on the way into the kingdom.

“What’s so funny?” You turn to stare at him, raising a brow.

“As much as I appreciate the thought, darling, I don’t need that fish as much as other people do.” He slowly stepped into the water, smiling as you narrowed your eyes slightly but didn't go to move.

“My name is not darling.”

“Oh? Well then what is it?” He kicked his feet to stay above the water, your tail moving slightly as you looked him up and down.

“It’s Y/N. Princess Y/N.”

He smiled, licking his lips to try and hide it. “Oh yeah? Well I’m Finnick.” He purposely leaves out the fact that he was a prince.

“That’s an odd name,” you say, but smile. “I like it.”

He smiled, slowly swimming closer before you moved away, pausing his movements as you licked your lips. “So, what’s so special about this cove, hm?”

“My mother has told me stories. There is a very dangerous underwater mountain range between the sea and this cove, but it has magical properties underneath the full moon. It is a place where people come to make sure that their bonds stick.”

Finnick paused, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You pause, shaking your head. “Humans do not need to know of our rituals. Besides, what are your rituals?”

Slowly, you swam around him, Finnick following your form. “My rituals?”

“Human rituals, I mean.” You correct, the seaglass threaded through your hair reflecting light onto your pretty face. “Like, for mating.”

“F-For mating?!” Damn were you forward.

“Well, I’ve heard that you people put rings on each other's hands? Why do you do that?” You tilted your head, humming. “Partners in my world marry when they turn into humans, then they proceed to mate to have children afterwards.”

“After what?”

“After their marriage ceremony!” You explain, smiling. “I am extremely excited to have my marriage ceremony.”

Finnick could feel his heart sink. “Y-You’re betrothed?”

“Not yet,” you respond, pausing. “I have not found the right suitor yet. And yourself? Are you betrothed?”

Finnick snorted. “Everyone wants me to be.”

You hummed softly, slowly swimming forward. “Why?”

“I am…” his voice turns into a whisper as you grab his hand, smiling. “What?”

“Yours are not like mine,” you respond, giggling. “I like them.”

“My hands?”

“Yes, I like them,” you giggled, gasping when a loud sound rung through out the forest, one you did not know was a bell. “Oh. Oh, what is that?!”

“It’s a bell,” Finnick sighed, looking down at where you held his wrist. “I need to go, but I will be back soon. I promise.”

“Where are you going?” You held his wrist tighter, trying to get him to stay as he adjusted his necklace, one given to him by Mags to protect him from mermaids like you. It didn’t work, and to be honest, he was glad it didn’t. “No! No, you need to stay, you brought me here, you need to stay with me!”

He could feel his mind blurring as he stood, eyesight fading in and out before you gasped.

“Oh my- I-I’m so sorry!”

It went away as soon as you said it, his eyes quickly meeting yours. “Was that- was that your magic?”

“Y-Yes, but I didn’t mean to! I didn’t, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Finnick said, holding the necklace in his hand as he inhaled deeply. “It’s completely fine.”

It wasn’t completely fine, but the way you reacted let him know it truly was an accident. He watched as you slowly swam over, offering your hand out to him as he kneeled down and took it, pressing a soft kiss to your webbed fingers as you rubbed your nose against his.

Your skin was cold and wet, but he liked it when the scales against your wrist rubbed against his skin as you rubbed your face against his. He could feel his stomach twisting, his heart beating faster as soft coos and trills came from your mouth. “Please Finnick… please do not leave me.”

“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be right back, I swear on it.”

You inhale deeply, nodding as you let go of his hand. “Please don’t be long.”

“I won’t.” And with that, Finnick ran off, determined to have a one sided verbal conversation with Mags on why the fuck he was already head over heels for a mermaid he’d only met once — even if he had to do something first.

“I present Prince Finnick of Panem,” Everyone bowed as soon as the doors opened, Finnick inhaling deeply as Peeta smiled back at him, Caesar grinning from the door. “To his coronation.”

He stared up at Mags who stood on the platform where kings before him had gotten married and where he was supposed to too, but what if he wanted to get married in the sea? To you? 

He had just met you and he was already planning your wedding, a smile on his face as he walked down the aisle. Would you be able to walk down the aisle? You said that you could shift, right? He had heard stories that mermaids could change-

“Finnick!”

He paused, gasping when he saw Mags’ short stature standing right in front of him, literally a centimeter away from him. She makes a face, lips firmly pressed together as she tilted her head up at him, obviously aware he was distracted.

He grinned sheepishly as he slowly stepped back, inhaling deeply as the music started to play, Mags taking her crown from her head and setting it onto a pillow offered by another person. Finnick swallowed as the music stopped, signaling the end of Mags’ temporary reign, and another crown quickly being brought out.

It was a new one, as Finnick never wanted to wear the crown Snow did, so he ordered the making of a new one. He smiled when he saw the pearls and diamonds, both of them reminding him of what was in your hair early on. He was already thinking of the crown he would have made for you, pearls and sea glass with diamonds to match his own.

You would look beautiful sitting next to him on a throne, or in his lap. He liked the lap scene better, though.

Mags slapped his forehead making him gasp, the older woman raising a brow down at him as he gave another sheepish smile. When the music started again, Finnick slowly kneeled down, inhaling deeply.

This was it — he would be king in a matter of seconds, and right when the crown was set on his head, everyone cheered.

The new King of Panem was finally crowned, and he was soon to be betrothed too, but to someone no one would expect.

It had been a few months since Finnick brought you to the cove, but you always disappeared one night a month. It made him upset, the fact he wasn’t able to see you.

“Are you going to be here tonight?” Finnick whispered as he brushed his fingers down your bicep, your tail now healed and still in the water as your torso laid in his lap.

“Most likely not,” you whisper, Finnick wincing.

“Why not? The cove is beautiful under a full moon.” He says making you giggle.

“I’m aware. Our kind comes here for-” you pause, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

“No, you have to say it now.” Finnick sits up, looking down at you as you shrug slightly. “Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“My mother used to say that all of the greatest rulers came here to secure their bond before marriage,” you whisper, your scaled hand pushing into his as your fingers thread through his own. “I hope to do the same.”

Finnick smiled down at you, finally leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. It made you gasp, your lips soft and warm as your hands pushed to the back of his head. Your lips were so addicting, slightly salty but soft and perfect against his own, his hand pushing to hold your hand.

He pulled away slightly, humming against your lips as you leaned up, pulling his lips right back onto your own. It was your first time kissing anyone, and Finnick’s lips were so warm and soft and perfect against your own, desperately pulling him down as he moved to kneel over your body.

You could feel his fingers slowly travel down your sides, trailing from your skin to your scales as his teeth graze your lips, mouth moving passionately and quickly in desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him lower. You squirm underneath him, desperately trying to pull him closer as Finnick pulls away slightly, groaning as he tries to stay away from your lips.

His softly brush against yours as you run your fingers through his hair, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. “I know humans are not like us. You started a mating ritual, this is your last chance to leave before it continues.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispers back, his hands shakily going over your tail. “I just don’t know how to continue.”

You giggled making him laugh, a smile on his face as he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours. “You have to wait until the moon comes up,” you whisper, pushing his hair back delicately. “I’m not able to change at will until we mate.”

“That long?” He groaned, his eyes trailing down your body and catching at your pretty nipples. “I guess that means I have to entertain myself some other way.”

“Wait,” you say, quickly cupping his face. “You need to come with me.”

He paused, staring at you in confusion. “Where?”

“To where the moonlight will find us the best.” You smiled, quickly grabbing his hand as you pulled him into the water.

He had heard stories about people being dragged to their death by your kind, but that wasn’t going to be him. He trusted you so much, holding his breath as you dragged him down lower and lower, the sunlight no longer able to be seen in the water. He could feel his vision blur until he’s pulled out of the water, gasping loudly as you giggled.

“Look! Look, isn’t it pretty? There is no sand here, that way it will not be uncomfortable when I shift into my human form.” You giggled, looking around as Finnick panted. “Oh, did I not give you enough time to take a breath?”

Finnick laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine, darling. I-Is that a bed?”

You paused, looking over where he did, a makeshift bed of furs and nets making you smile. “Oh, yes! It’s customary to make a bed for the next pair and leave a special treat for them. Of course, it has to be something that can’t go bad, but when you and your mate finish, you burn the blankets that you used and use the ash in your wedding ceremony.”

Finnick swam over to you, lifting you up into his arms making you let out a giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Where does your kind get fur? You know, if you live underwater, it would spoil.”

You hummed as he laid you onto the soft furs that matched the ones brought only to the castle, customary for the kings because of how expensive it is. “I’m not sure. We do not use furs under the sea, just up here. How they acquired it is unknown to me.”

He merely hummed, his attention now on you as he softly pressed kisses to your collarbone. Your scales were cold and beautiful, sliding along his fingers beautifully as his tongue rubbed over the expanse of your collar bone, one of his hands sliding up your torso as you inhaled sharply.

You could feel your eyes roll back, his warm tongue sliding along your skin as the tips of his fingers trail along your skin that hadn’t yet become scales just yet, pulling the strands of thinly braided seaweed threaded with pearls and sea glass off of your body. He smiled when he saw the scales spotting along your breasts and your ribs that were hidden by the seaweed somehow, leaning down to let his lips hover over your scales, a sharp inhale leaving your mouth as your stomach twists.

Your scales were more sensitive than your skin, and his fingers were pinching against your nipple, thumb and middle rolling the sensitive bud. The feeling was foreign to you, a whine leaving your lips as his tongue trailed along your skin from the patch of scales to your nipple. A whine leaves your mouth, you hadn’t even shifted yet and you could already feel yourself getting aroused, his warm fingers and mouth kissing and sucking against your tits.

It was too much, your stomach clenching as your hands pushed into his hair, tugging and pulling in an attempt to pull him away with how sensitive he was making your body, licking and sucking and biting which made you whimper. Finnick was easily keeping himself entertained, waiting until the change would happen by distracting himself with marking up your body.

“For fucks sake, darling, I want to fuck you so bad.”

His words made you whimper, groaning loudly as you buck your hips into the air, pausing. You had hips.

“F-Finnick!” You gasped, staring down as he groaned. “Finnick, look!”

He laughed, shaking his head as his tongue lapped against your nipple, the perky bud making him grin as the tip of his tongue circled around it. “You’re not gonna get me away from these pretty tits, baby.”

“Finnick,” you giggle, pushing your foot against his thigh, your leg shaking. “Look.”

He paused, pulling away and staring down at your beautiful legs. His hands softly squeezed at your plush thighs, smiling as he kissed softly against your skin and pulling your legs above his shoulders. Your eyes widened, gasping. “W-Wait, Finnick!”

“I’ve waited months, darling. Please don’t make me wait any longer.” He stared at your cunt, your pretty pussy already soaked as his fingers slid up and down, gathering your wetness before teasing your entrance. “Please.”

You gasped, warm fingers pushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, shaking your head. “I-I’ve never done this before, Finnick.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “It’s okay, darling, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

You inhale, slowly pulling him closer with a bend of your knees. “Okay. Pl-Please, please…” you whisper, humming as his tongue flattened against your slit. “Please fuck me.”

You use his words, gasping as you feel something foreign inside of you, eyes rolling back as you inhaled deeply. You blink a few times to collect yourself, staring down at his fingers that slowly pushed inside of you, two of them. You gasped, staring at them as they disappeared inside of you, pulling in and out as his tongue dragged along your clit. He groaned loudly, insatiable groans of pleasure falling from both of your lips.

He was desperately sucking and licking at your cunt, around your entrance against your clit, he was absolutely infatuated with your taste. It was making him feral, groaning into your cunt and sending vibrations up your spine as his fingers pushed knuckle deep into you, curling as he rutted against the blankets. Oh he had to be inside of you, but you had to cum first before he fucked you.

His fingertips graze that spot inside of you, pushing and rubbing right against that perfect spot as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling against the sensitive bundle of nerves that pushed you right over that perfect edge. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening as you bucked your hips unconsciously, your thighs shaking around his head as you still didn’t have enough control of your legs.

Finnick groaned, pulling out his fingers and curling them, dragging out every drop of your cum and scissoring his digits inside of you to make your walls clamp down on them, laughing as he licked up the pearlescent essence sliding out of your cunt. It makes him smile as he pulls your fingers out of your cunt, watching it flutter and clench around nothing before sitting back against his heels.

He pulled down his wet trousers and underwear, smiling as he dragged his cupped hand against your cunt, gathering your wetness mixed with his own saliva and slathering it onto his shaft before lining his head up with your entrance, biting his lips as your hands quickly flew to his shoulders. Your head was tilted back, mouth wide in pleasure as you groaned out, your fingers no longer webbed and the scales on your body now gone.

He leaned down with a sharp thrust, easily becoming balls deep inside of you as your walls tightened and fluttered around his shaft, a loud groan falling from both of your lips. “You just came again.”

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you whisper meekly, eyes wide as you stare down at where his cock disappeared inside of you, “Y-You feel so good, please don’t stay still. Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you to cum inside.”

He lost control with that one sentence, pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. It was rough and made sparks of both pleasure and pain spark up your spine, eyes rolling back at the unfamiliar but pleasure filled thrusting of his hips. He groaned loudly, his stomach already twisting as he choked against your shoulder – he was only a few thrusts in, desperately trying to chase the high he was right on the edge of, already drunk on your cunt.

“F-Fuck, fuck Y/N darling. You feel so good, so fucking good!” He groaned against your shoulder, mouth already attaching to the previously made hickies, letting out a loud moan as he slammed his hips forward, hips pausing when he finally came.

He didn’t stop though, his mind solely focused on fucking you now, watching your face slowly became fucked out, eyes hazy as you stared up at him. Your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of pleasure, your stomach full of cum as he continued to thrust, barely an hour with legs and already lost feeling of them.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, though, hips bucking into his own in desperation as he panted above you, pausing nearly for a minute. It was still too long for him to be still inside of you, wiping the sweat from his brow as you whined. He grinned down at you, moving back to pull his cock out of you before slowly pushing back in. “Darling, you’re so desperate. How many times have I cum inside of you? And you still want more?”

“Wh-Why can’t I want more? You make me feel so good, and you like to fuck me, don’t you? So don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You basically wailed, gasping as he grabbed your hips and lifted them slightly off the bed to fuck into you again, head tilting back as you stared up at his face.

You could feel him twitch inside of you, slamming in and out of you as he fucking you like his own personal whore, which at this point, you basically were. You felt so full, eyes rolling back as sweat dripped down his forehead, mouth wide open with a loud groan. “Fuck darling, I don’t want to stop.”

His words make you laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a firm kiss. “Well, I’m free to change at will now,” you whisper, stroking his golden hair. “You don’t have to stop.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, my darling mermaid.”

“And I love you, my darling human.”

“Just human? Am I just a human to you?” He says playfully, watching you giggle.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Finnick.”

“Whatever you say, my darling mermaid.”

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© asterias-record-shop

[roseweaslies]

starchild’s competition

18+ Minors, DNI.

summary: dustin’s noticed your odd behavior and takes it upon himself to figure out what’s going on. little does he know, you’ve fallen in love with the dungeon master of his dnd club.

pairing: eddie munson x female!henderson!reader

cw: almost smut? implications of sex, kissing, etc. bit of fluff / bit of smut

word count: 5.1 k

a/n: this is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written, definitely thinking of making a pt. 2… also apologies for the spacing on this one, it didn’t like me pasting my writing from wattpad to tumblr lol

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

dustin henderson never snooped... okay that was a lie, he only snooped when he knew he needed to, like today

you and dustin had grown up as close siblings. without your dad in the picture, moving to hawkins when you were 14 and he was 9, and living with your single mom, you knew you had to take care of each other

obviously, you two had run-of-the-mill spats with each other as every sibling has with one another, but you two still loved each other very much

even the times when he's tackled you in order to get the last pop tart, in which you would snatch it back from him, just for him to say 'no collarbones' to tug on your heartstrings and you'd end up giving it to him anyways

but these past few weeks had been very different, you were different

you were always out late, and if you weren't already out late, you were pretending to go to bed early just to sneak out of your window to be out late

you were never really in the house anymore, and when you were, there would be an odd smell coming from your room

dustin was became confused on why you never had much time to drive him to hellfire or bother steve together at family video anymore, and he was confused on why you would always finish dinner quickly then go straight to your room or why you'd always have some metal song playing in your walkman (a genre he didn't even know you owned cassettes of)

but little did he know the reason why was because you had accidentally fallen in love with one of his best friends and the dungeon master of his dnd club... eddie munson

and truth be told it was an accident.

you and eddie had always inconspicuously flirted with one another. it occurred whenever you would drop off dustin at hellfire, or when eddie would come up to the kitchen during one of the campaign's breaks to see you before the rest of the party would come up from the basement of your house

the two of you would talk, laugh, make jokes, and much to dustins knowledge, he knew that neither of you would try anything, i mean you couldn't right?

wrong. after a few weeks, eddie formally asked you out. it was for a nice romantic picnic out by lovers lake. you said yes, seeing as the cute metalhead in front of you already had you wrapped around his finger, and one date couldn't hurt...

but more dates did occur- watching corroded coffin play at the hideout, sneaking out to smoke at his house, making out in the back of his van with music blaring in the background, and having him over to study since you two "had the same history class and were made partners by your teacher" - which is what you always told dustin

you couldn't help it, the two of you just naturally gravitated toward each other, but you still didn't tell dustin, or really anyone for that matter. you loved your little bubble that you built together over the past couple months and the fear of scrutiny from other party members, especially your little brother, would burst it

but nonetheless, dustin grew suspicious of his sister, suddenly acting secretive and dodgy

you had left to go to the mall with nancy and robin earlier in the evening and it gave dustin his opportunity. he quietly walked out of his room and into yours

he closed your door quietly behind him, and he scanned your room. he didn't find anything out of the ordinary at first, till he noticed some cassettes and a piece of paper on your dresser

intrigued, he walked over and picked them up. there were four cassettes you had sitting there, metallica's ride the lighting, dynasty and love gun by kiss, and heaven and hell by black sabbath

he picked up the piece of paper that looked a little crumpled and opened it up to read

here's a couple of my favorites, i hope you love them too... p.s., I'm dedicating track no. 1 on dynasty to you -starchild's competition

"starchild's competition? what the fuck does that even mean?" he said out loud to himself

out of curiosity, he took the dynasty cassette and decided to play track number one, seeing as it was dedicated to his sister by a random guy competing with someone named starchild

little did he know, it was a stupid inside joke between you and eddie

you two were smoking in his room and you had briefly mentioned your huge crush on paul stanley from kiss to eddie, to which he decided to tease you with, saying he was in competition with the huge star for your love and affection

at the time you didn't realized he signed the note with that, being a little too busy as you were high out of your mind, and he shoved the note and his cassettes into your bag for a cute surprise when you got home

dustin heard the familiar tune of 'i was made for loving you' ring through your room and he gagged

who is dedicating songs to her? he thought

continued to look around your room, finding a photo album peaking out from the side of your desk, hiding under a couple of school books

but his actions were soon interrupted as your door opened, and you spotted him

"what are you doing in my room" you asked with an annoyed tone

"oh uh... your stereo turned on and i was going to turn it off for you... good song choice by the way" he said stiffly as he awkwardly shuffled out of your room and into his

you shook your head at his weirdness and shut your door. you tossed the shopping bags you had onto your bed and shimmed off your jacket, tossing it onto your desk

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a few hickies on your chest were showing that your jacket covered earlier

that was a byproduct of going over to eddies a few days beforehand. the two of you were going to try and do some homework but that soon turned into you on eddie's lap as the two of you feverishly made out

but it was soon interrupted by wayne who wanted to make sure the two of you had a proper dinner to "keep your studying energy up" so the two of you had to pull yourselves together and go eat the dinner wayne graciously made before he left for work

but, you were a little grateful for the interruption since it gave you an opportunity to buy a new and exciting piece of lingerie to surprise eddie with

-

the next night, you did your usual eat dinner fast then run back to your room routine, which you did in order to call eddie and talk to him

you two surprisingly never ran out of topics to talk about, and he never failed to make you laugh, which would end up with him wanting to see your "beautiful smile in person" and you would arrange for him to sneak into your room after your mom went to bed

the two of you were well into your honeymoon phase but neither of you minded

this particular evening, dustin and your mom were watching some movie and eating some ice cream for dessert when he heard a loud giggle from your room

"i'm going to go see if y/n wants some ice cream" dustin said, setting his bowl down and walking down the hallway

his steps were slow and quiet, your voice getting only slightly louder as he got closer to your door

"no baby i cannot tell you the surprise, you're gonna have to wait" he heard you giggle causing him to make a disgusted look on his face

okay, she clearly has a secret boyfriend which is why she's been acting so weird, he thought to himself, but he wondered who could it be for her to not tell anyone about

you're usually open about boys you like, especially the celebrity crushes you had which seemed to change every other week, so what's so special about this guy that she can't talk about him?

"mhm, yeah try and see if that works this time, cause it worked sooo great last time" you said with a sarcastic laugh

dustins ear pressed a little too close to the door causing it to creak open a little bit, catching your attention

he stood up straight and cleared his throat, knocking lightly to make it look like he had just got to your door. you muttered a "hold on" and lightly pressed the bottom half of your phone to your chest

"yes?" you questioned, and dustin blinked his wide eyes

"oh uh do you want ice cream for dessert?" he said and you smiled "sure, I'll be out in a sec, don't eat the rest of the chocolate please" you told him

he responded with a smile and nod, and closed the door to the way it was before and he heard you say a "it's my favorite flavor! it's not boring!" followed by another giggle

-

the next night was friday night

your mom had some PTA meeting and dinner meaning she would be out till late and dustin said he was going with lucas and mike to the arcade and then to mike's for a sleepover

you invited eddie over while the two of you were standing next to your locker

"yeah and my mom will be out all night at some PTA meeting and dustin's going to sleepover at mike's house, so it'll just be me... all alone... in an empty old house," you dragged the last part out causing a smirk to arise on eddie's face

"oh we can't have that now, can we?" eddie responded, taking his pointer finger and hooking it gently under your chin to pull you in for a kiss

"get a room you two" robin said arriving next to you

"its already booked" you rebutted back with a chuckle

you stayed there near your locker for a good few minutes, continuing to talk to robin who was just about to leave to catch her evening shift at the store. eventually the two of you said goodbye to her, walking out into the parking lot from the school

you drove home separately from eddie, telling him to come over at 5 and to park down the street not to draw attention and he gladly agreed

the clock was ticking down to 5 pm when your mom headed out the door

"i won't be back till late, bye sweeties!" she said as the door closed. now all who was left was dustin, standing next to you waving goodbye

"don't you have a sleepover at mikes or something?" you questioned

"yeah but i'm in no hurry to get there, i'll leave in a few minutes" he said when you noticed eddie's van drive past your house in order to park down the street causing your heart to drop

"you sure? didn't you guys want to go to the arcade too?" you asked, wanting him to leave already

"we're going but lucas can't meet us there till 5:15 so i have some time" he shrugged, sitting down on the couch causing you to mentally groan

your eyes widened as you saw eddie start to walk up your drive way

shit shit shit you said to yourself as he knocked on the door

dustin sat up "bet you 5 dollars mom forgot something" he joked, going towards the door before you even stepped your foot out

he quickly opened the door to reveal a very handsome eddie munson standing there with his dio t shirt and usual black jeans

"eddie? what are you doing here?" he asked. eddie looked like a deer caught in headlights. he quickly looked to you then back to dustin

"oh i uh just came by to uh... borrow your sisters history book... uh.. i lost my copy and we're partners for the class so..." he stammered out

dustin seemed to buy it as he let eddie into the house, and eddie gave you a smile

"well since you're here and i don't have to leave for a few minutes, can i ask your opinion on my new campaign?" dustin asked sweetly. eddie shrugged and muttered a sure before he was motioned to go down the hall to dustins room

you gave a sympathetic smile to him, and decided to head to the kitchen to get some water while you waited

you heard talking from the two of them down the hall, a few laughs here and there, when eventually the two of them emerged from dustins room, the clock reading 5:25

"oh shit I gotta go- hey since you're just here for a book and you're probably about to leave anyways, could you drop me off at the arcade? my bike should fit in the back of your van" he questioned and you could see the mental groan in eddie's eyes

"uh yeah sure" he said, looking to you. you giggled and walked past the boys, grabbing a random book from your desk and walking back to the living room, handing it to eddie

"thanks" he said. you could tell he was annoyed dustin was cockblocking him, and you tried not to laugh

"c'mon eddie i'm already late" dustin exclaimed, swinging a bag over his shoulder

"coming" he grumbled, looking at you once more before walking out the door, book in hand

you saw the two conversing as they walked down the street to where eddie's van was parked, dustin walking his bike next to him. you saw this as a chance to go change into your outfit for eddie's return.

you happily skipped into your room, shutting the door behind you. you went over to your underwear drawer where you stashed your new lingerie set, the red lacy fabric soft in your hands

you normally wouldn't wear a bright color such as this cherry red, opting for blacks since its what you felt most comfortable in, but you figured it'd be a nice change and such a surprise for your boyfriend

you quickly changed into the lingerie, taking a look at yourself in the mirror

"damn" you muttered out, feeling a new sense of confidence wash over you. you touched up the little bit of makeup you were wearing, and decided to fix your hair down, your hair cascading to your shoulders.

slight waves in your hair emerged from the bun you had it in earlier but you didn't mind since it added some life to your hair. you applied some of your favorite perfume to your wrists and behind your ears, and once you were satisfied with your look, you threw back on your sweatshirt and shorts.

you heard knocking at the front door, signaling eddie was back from driving dustin

you walked out of your room and opened the door to reveal an annoyed eddie. "that little fucker" he mumbled, walking in past you

"well hello to you too" you said jokingly. eddie turned to face you.

"hey sweetheart" he breathed out, before continuing his little rant

"he kept asking why i was parked so far from the house, so i told him it was cause i didn't want to block your driveway, then he asked why i had an English textbook if we were doing a history project together," he continued, handing you back the book you had previously handed him

"then he was annoyed when i said i was busy tonight and couldn't come to the arcade with him and his friends and he just kept on questioning everything i-" you cut him off by kissing him, catching him by surprise

"eds, calm down, he's gone now, its just the two of us, and it's not his fault he doesn't know what's really going on" you soothed, trying to calm your amped-up boyfriend

"you're right I'm sorry, it's just i wanted to be here with you like an hour ago but that little cockblock-" you cut him off by kissing him again, this time actually shutting him up

the book you had in your hand dropped to the seat behind you causing a thud. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. his hands slid under your shirt and up the sides of your torso, his rings were cold against your warm skin causing you to gasp, and eddie took this an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth

you moaned in to the kiss causing him to smirk, when he started trailing his lips from yours down to your neck sucking on that sweet spot behind your ear

"eds" you breathed out, "yeah?" he mumbled, continuing to leave his mark on your neck

"my room" you stuttered out and he pulled away

"lead the way princess" he said with a smile, extending his hand for you to walk past him. you giggled, still stuck in a little bit of a haze, lacing his hand with yours in the process of walking past him

"did you bring it?" you asked as you entered your room. "condoms or weed?" he asked, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it

you giggled, "the weed but good to know about the condoms as well," you said with a wink

the two of you got into your usual positions, eddie sitting at your desk rolling a couple of joints while you lit some incense to cover the smell in case your mom came home early

once situated, you laid on your bed, side by side, passing the joint. you watched as eddie brought it up to his lips, and carefully sucked on it, lighting up the end, and breathing out the smoke

you watched his plush pink lips form in to an 'o' shape as the smoke blew, and you were mesmerized

and you stayed like that, smoking, staring at eddie, talking, but eventually by the end of the second joint, you didn't need anymore

"eddie" you whined, sitting on his lap, rolling your hips in attempts to get some friction for the heat pooling in your pants

eddie knew you had levels of being high, it would go from chill to giggly to horny to sleepy, and right now, he knew that all you cared about was him fucking you senseless

"yes baby?" he purred, hands gripping onto your thighs, your faces almost touching

"i need you" you whine again, starting to kiss his neck, and you moved your hands up the sides of his torso, lightly tugging on his shirt to get him to take it off

he loved taking his time with you while you were in this state, taking it as an opportunity to tease you. he loved making you a whining, moaning mess, hungry for his cock

he slowly moved your head from his neck so his lips met yours, kissing you with passion, his tongue fighting with yours

you broke apart for a second, taking off your shirt and tossing it across the room

"jesus christ y/n" he breathed out, absolutely enamored with the sight in front of him

"oh i forgot about that" you giggle, "you want to see the rest?" you ask in a sultry tone

he nods furiously and then gulps as you manage to wiggle off his lap

he watched intently as you flicked on the stereo, 'lick it up' by kiss blaring through your speakers as you moved your hips along to the beat of the song

"holy shit" eddie said, his eyes widening

you continued to move to the beat, flipping your hair and turning around, moving your body around in the most sexual way you know how

you dropped the shorts, tossing them beside you, and he smirked at the full sight of you

he sat up a bit as you started to slowly crawl onto your bed towards him, and he bit his lip in anticipation

you laid down next to him, and he took his opportunity to kiss down your neck and onto your collarbone, taking his time to leave his mark all over your chest and your neck

his hands traveled down your thigh, gripping your your backside as you grinded again his hard bulge

"i think you're wearing too many clothes" you said, lips almost touching

"yes m'am" he said with a light laugh and kissed you before he got up from the bed

the song had changed a couple times from the one you put on, and your speaker was blaring the chords of 'all hell's breakin' loose'

eddie tried to move his hips around in the way you did, but failing miserably causing you to laugh

he whipped off his t shirt, tossing it in your direction, and you watched intently as your boyfriend tried to give you a lap dance

he undid his belt, tossing it to his left side, and slowly undid his zipper

he looked at you, as you were holding back giggles as he was purposefully trying to be bad at this

he finally pulled down his pants and stepped out of them and kicked them over before jumping on to the bed next to you

"maybe we should stick to you performing on the stage and me performing in the bedroom" you giggled as he scooted closer

"yeah maybe that's for the best" he laughed, pulling you in to a deep kiss

he was on top of you and you were a moaning mess underneath him until you finally found the strength to flip the two of you over, wanting your turn to leave a few love bites down his neck

you knew everyone would see you together, see the hickies, and put two and two together but in this moment, you honestly couldn't care

you grinded down on his lap as you kissed the sweet spot behind his ear, causing a delicious moan to emit from those beautiful pink lips

——

"shit!" dustin yelled in an annoyed tone. he was in mike's basement with lucas, mike being upstairs grabbing a couple of snacks.

"what?" lucas asked towards the frantic curly haired boy

"i forgot my toothbrush" he said, grabbing his jacket

"where are you going?" mike asked walked down the stairs, arms full of junk food that would soon cease to exist, at the threat of being in front of three hungry teenage boys

"i need my toothbrush" dustin said, putting on his shoes

"just skip tonight, it's not a big deal" mike shrugged and dustin shook his head

"not a big deal? i just got these pearls and you expect me to not take care of them?" he held a hand up to his chest in offense

"just let him go, it'll only take him like 20 minutes tops" lucas said, opening a can of coke

"whatever but we're starting the star wars marathon without you" mike said and dustin looked at him with annoyance

"oh damn! it's not like i haven't seen the beginning of a new hope like 50 times" he said sarcastically before running up the stairs

he briefly told mrs. wheeler where he was going and that he was going to be back, and out the door he went, grabbing his bike

he started on his way to his house which wasn't too far from mike's, enjoying the cool breeze on the oddly warm spring night

he finally made it to his driveway, hearing the crickets outside and music coming from inside the house

dustin made his way up the stairs and opened the door which he found unusual since whenever you were home alone, you always made sure to lock everything up as you knew the only people who should be entering would have a key

the music traveled from your room and down the hall and he shrugged, assuming you were just listening to music loudly but then he smelled that oddly familiar smell wafting from your room

he went to the bathroom, grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and shut the door when he figured he should at least ask you about it

-

"oh fucking hell, you are so perfect" eddie muttered out as you licked the spot on his neck you had finished working on, proud of your accomplishment

one of your hands traveled down his hips and to the waist band of his boxers, starting to palm his rock hard bulge and he moaned, his fingers digging into your ass and thighs

your lips met his once more as you went to pull down his waist band, and you were so drunk on him, you couldn't focus on anything else

"hey y/n what's the- JESUS CHRIST" you heard a scream from your door way, causing you and eddie to jump apart

"dustin what the fuck are you doing here?!" you yell, grabbing your sheets to cover yourself up, eddie attempting to do the same

"what the fuck are you doing??" he screamed again

"what's it look like? now get out!" eddie yelled, throwing a pillow at him causing him to immediately step back and shut the door

your heart was pounding and your breathing was unsteady

"oh god" you groaned, leaning into eddie's chest

"well at least now he knows?" eddie said with a laugh

—

dustin, horrified at the sight, ran out of the house, toothbrush in hand and ran to his bike

he believed it was a record for how fast it took him to get back to mike's house from his

out of breath, he stumbled down into mikes basement seeing both mike and lucas staring intently at the movie

"why are you so out of breath?" lucas asked with concern

"i just saw my sister having sex with eddie" he managed to get out, still trying to catch his breath

"what?" mike asked

"I JUST SAW MY SISTER HAVING SEX WITH EDDIE" dustin screamed, repeating himself

"what the fuck?" mike asked again

"wait what so what did you even see?" lucas asked dustin

"i went to get my toothbrush and i heard music from her room and there was some smell so i decided to ask her what the smell was and i knocked- a few times, and she didn't answer so i assumed her music was too loud so i opened her door and i saw them half naked kissing on her bed!" dustin said with disgust

"jesus that's rough" lucas agreed

—

you finished putting back on your shorts, sitting on the edge of your bed with a gnawing feeling in your stomach

after what just happened, neither wanted to continue your plans for the evening so the two of you calmly got dressed and turned off the music.

"you okay?" eddie asked, sitting next to you and you shrugged

"i feel bad for having dustin find out about us that way" you said, playing with the hem of your shorts

"i know but now that it's out in the open you can always actually talk to him about everything tomorrow" he said and you nodded

"yeah i guess, plus i hate the fact that my surprise was wasted" you said, and he wrapped an arm around you as you leaned your head on his shoulder

"i wouldn't say it went to waste because jesus it definitely surprised me" he lifted your head gently to make eye contact with you

"i love you y/n and we'll have plenty of more opportunities for you to show me that, i already forgot all about it, you were wearing something blue right?" he joked and you laughed

"i love you too eddie" you said, wrapping your arms around him. you cuddled into each other, enjoying each others company. you also felt an insane amount of sleepiness wash over you and eddie could sense that

"you seem tired, so i should probably get going" he said with a sigh and you shook your head, pulling away from the hug but keeping your bodies pressed close

"no please, i want you to stay" you said to him and he nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear

"what about your mom?" he questioned and you smiled

"i'll just lock my door and if you'd be so kind, sneak out my window in the morning and come round to the front door, tell my mom you're taking me to breakfast" you suggested and he smiled

"god you're smart" eddie responded, kissing you softly

"and i have some extra clothes of yours from a few weeks ago for tomorrow" you said, getting up to the dresser and pulling them out

you had washed and dried them for him, planning to return them soon but thanking yourself you didn't

"thanks baby" he said, getting up and wrapping his arms around you

"you know i was actually wondering where this shirt went" he said and you giggled

the two of you decided to change out of your clothes, you sleeping in another one of eddie's shirts you had 'borrowed' and him changing into his clean boxers from the dresser

the two of you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, smiling at each other with toothpaste filled smiles. eddie left the bathroom back to your room, and you finished up washing your face and applying some moisturizer

once you made it back to your room, you admired the sight in front of you

eddie was laying on top of the sheets, legs spread and one arm on top of his head, showing off his tattoos

"take a picture it'll last longer" eddie smirked when he noticed you standing by the door

"might have to, you're too pretty" you said, shutting the door and locking it behind you

you walked over to your bed, crawling in, the only light emitting was from your lamp, the other lights eddie turned off for you

you snuggled close to him, his arms wrapping around you right and he reached up and turned off the light

"i love you y/n" eddie whispered, kissing your neck lightly and you smiled, rubbing his arms lightly

"i love you too eds" you said, falling asleep in his arms

fin.

[roseweaslies]

Heyy sunflower 💛

I’m wondering if you could do dom!Eddie fingering her while riding on ferris wheel at the Fun Fair? 😏

Hey Luna! I hope you like it 🫶💗

18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie's taking you on a date to the funfair. As soon as you'd heard about it coming to town, you'd absolutely lit up with excitement, so he knew he had to take you.

He picks you up, and you answer the door wearing your cutest sundress. The weather is hot, and Eddie practically drools at all of the skin on show.

The dress is short, and when you twirl to give Eddie a full look, it rides up, giving him a peek of your panties. You look up at him innocently, but he knows you know what you're doing, and you'll be in trouble for it later.

You have fun playing the games. You're not the best at them, but Eddie's always been rather good. He eventually takes pity on you and your sad pouty face and does a knock the can over game to win you the cute teddy you've got your heart set on.

You hold onto his arm and babble away about how happy you are as he pulls you into line for the ferris wheel. He tries to keep his focus on what you're saying, but the feel of your breasts against his arm is distracting, and when he looks down, your fidgeting is making them bounce.

He curses in his head and tries to think of non sexy things so he doesn't pop a boner in front of all these people.

You reach the front of the line, and Eddie hands over your ride tokens. You get into your seats, and the ride starts. Sitting down in your dress reveals a lot of your thighs, and Eddie knows how they feel around his head as he eats you out.

Everything about you is tempting, and he's getting so worked up by you. He moves his hand to your thigh, squeezing your soft skin lightly, and you smile at him.

His hand dances higher up until it's beneath the skirt of your dress. His fingers teasingly trace over your panties, and you let out a soft gasp.

He moves your panties to the side and lets his finger trail into your folds. He finds you wet and circles his finger around your entrance.

"P-Please." You quietly beg, your face flushed as you try not to bring attention to what you're doing.

Eddie leans in closer whispering into your ear, "Such a naughty little slut, aren't you baby? You wore this to tease me and now you want me to fuck you on my fingers in front of all these people."

His finger starts getting closer to where you want it.

"You'll have to be quiet, wouldn't want all these people to know what a whore you are." His finger penetrates you and you have to bite your lip hard to stop the whine you want to let out.

You're so wet around him and trying to suck him in deeper. He adds another finger, and you start breathing faster. Trying to stay quiet is hard, and your breasts are jiggling from how hard your breathing is.

Eddie gets closer as if you're embracing and squeezes your breast, thumb rubbing over where your nipple is, and you're not wearing a bra.

"Pretty fucking tits. I'd suck them if I could. You'd like that wouldn't you baby?"

He speeds up his hand, angling his fingers to hit your g-spot dead on as his thumb applies pressure to your clit.

"Y-Yes, s-sir." You bite back a moan and lean into Eddie.

Your orgasm is fast approaching, and you bite down on Eddie's neck to help you not make any sound.

To anyone looking, you just look like a sweet couple, whispering romantic things to each other on the ferris wheel, if only they knew the truth.

The fact that you could get caught makes it even better, and Eddie treating you like his personal doll, who he can do whatever he wants to, always makes things so much hotter.

"Let go, want to feel you cum on my fingers." Eddie whispers seductively and it sends you over the edge.

Your cunt tightens as you reach your peak, fluttering around Eddie's fingers as you cum all over them. You bite down harder on his neck, definitely leaving a mark, and your eyes flutter from how good it feels.

Eddie works you through your orgasm and then pulls out, adjusting your clothes back into place. He licks his fingers and lets out a small moan at the taste.

"Even better than any of the food you can get here. Want a taste?" Eddie asks, and you nod.

He pulls you into a filthy kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away as the ride slows down to a stop and helps you out, keeping his hands on your waist.

"Let's go home, and you can help me with this." He presses into your back, and you can feel his erection.

Permanent Tag list - @jamdoughnutmagician @agrownupgeekgirl @chrissymjstan @emma77645 @adaydreamaway08 @eddies-puppet @eddiemunson95 @bebe07011 @grapejuicenads @bug-boy32 @hideoutside @jasminelafleur @mrsmarch64 @micheledawn1975 @strangerfreak @coley0823

[roseweaslies]

Like The Movies

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word count: 1.6K Summary: Requested- Eddie is your best friend and he reluctantly asks you to prom because you want to go. He is nervous getting ready and almost cancels. However, he takes you and fulfills your lifelong dream of going to prom. Friends to lovers once he finally admits his feelings while you share a dance.

Warning: swearing, fluff

A/N: I loved this request and hope I do it justice!

Masterlist

The sound of a girl squealing and an eruption of cheers brought you out of your thoughts. You draw your gaze from your lunch tray to the table a few down from yours. There was yet another prom proposal. The 5th one in two days to be precise. 

“Of course, everyone is getting asked to prom but me…” you mumbled, hoping that the guys couldn’t hear you. However, you weren’t so lucky. 

Gareth looked at you, cocking his eyebrows, “You seriously wanna go to prom?” 

This drew the attention of everyone at the table to you. You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact, “Um, I mean kinda? This is my last year, and I’ve never been. I think you all forget I’m a girl. I do like that stuff sometimes.” You let out an awkward laugh, waving it off and trying to change the subject, “But it’s not a big deal. Anyways how are you all feeling about the new campaign coming up?”

Thankfully they took the bait and shifted the topic to the next Hellfire meeting. Everyone except Eddie, that was. He found it hard not to notice your longing gaze or how your shoulders slumped when someone was asked to prom. He tried to push it aside and forget it, but you’re his best friend, and he hated to see you look like a kicked puppy. Damn it, Eddie thought, I’m gonna have to ask her.

Keep reading

[roseweaslies]

I have a request for ya! Just thought of this (sorry for the long entry 🫣)

what if Reader has been harboring a MAJOR crush on Eddie forever, and maybe they're friends, maybe not, maybe just acquaintances, I'll leave that up to you, but the Reader is this stereotypical shy, quiet, nerd girl who loves fantasy novels and (though no one would guess it just by looking at her) heavy metal and D&D and she's always been way too scared to tell Eddie how she feels (and she also knows he has a crush on Chrissy Cunningham and how could she ever compete with the Queen of Hawkins High? The Perfect Girl?). But then one day a group of bullies (maybe Carver and his Goons, maybe somebody else, again, I'll leave that up to you) somehow get a hold of her diary and read out the entry where she talks about how much she's in love with Eddie, out loud in the cafeteria during Lunch! Eddie's there, Chrissy's there, Reader is there, everyone, all of their friends are there, and of course the Reader is MORTIFIED and takes off running and hides somewhere else before anyone can say anything.

How it ends I will leave up to you 🙌 (but preferably fluffy 👀)

Vulnerability (Eddie X GN Reader)

Ehehe I’ve been writing this all morning and I love this request so much! *The diary entries are in bold italics. Also this was typed on mobile, so sorry for any typos!!

The entire table erupted into cheers as they won the battle and finished the campaign. You smiled, glancing over your book and grinned even wider as they congratulated each other. You were tucked away in the corner, engrossed in the plot of your latest novel. You’d only pretended to read in the past half hour because you had been trying to pay attention to what was going on at the table.

You and Gareth had been friends since childhood and went everywhere together. You often watched the Hellfire campaigns, but had been trying to finish up your book since it was due back soon.

“So, what did you think of my campaign?”

Your heart jolted in your chest and you pretended to find a place to stop in the story before looking up to see Eddie hovering over you. Eyes widening, you tried to laugh normally, but it just came out strangled. He patted your back, concerned, while you begged whatever higher power was listening to just take you away. Tears leaked from your eyes and you glanced to him to see he was waiting expectantly.

“It was really good, Eddie.”

He flushed and rocked on his heels.

“Your storytelling was so creative and I had no idea that side character was going to have such a big role!”

He flourished under your praise and sat beside you, rambling eagerly about his strategy and how he was inspired for the campaign.

~~~

In short, I absolutely have a crush on Eddie Munson.

You groaned and flopped your head down on the table. The library was especially quiet before school and was often the place you divulged your most private thoughts to your diary. The five-minute warning bell rang and you scooped up all your things and dashed off to class, not realizing the diary had slipped out of your grip.

The day passed in a blur. Tests were coming up for all your classes and you could barely keep all the information straight in your head. You huffed as you sat down at the lunch table and pulled your book out. Gareth sat next to you and opened his mouth to say something, but you waved a hand dismissively.

“Just a few minutes, Gare. Almost done.”

The last few pages flew by before you closed the book with a thud.

“Good?” He asked.

“Amazinggggg,” you sang back.

Your table descened into a mess of conversation that stopped abruptly the moment Jason Carver walked up to you. Encountering Jason was never a good thing, especially up close.

He smiled at you, sending shivers down your spine. He waved a familiar small blue book at you. “I think this is yours.”

Your eyes grew as you turned to dig in your bag, confirming what you already knew. You turned back to him, face heating with embarrassment. “Give it back, Jason.”

His grin turned more antagonistic as you stood up and reached for your diary. He held it above your hands, opening it to the most recent entry.

“Ahem, everybody? Can I have your attention?”

You bristled as everyone turned your way, hands balling into fists at your side. Of course nobody could miss what stupid Jason Carver had to say.

Gareth stood and held out a hand for your book. ���Hey, man. Just give it back to her.”

Jason pointed a finger into his chest, moving him back. “Hang on a minute, nerd. Gotta read something real quick.”

You darted around the table and surged toward Jason, groaning as you slammed against two of his goons that had stepped into your path. It was too late. Tears pooled in your eyes as he started to read, exposing your heart to the world.

He cleared his throat before starting in. You had written snippets of campaigns you would run if you were a DM and he skimmed over them, reading the romantic bits aloud and laughing cruelly as he continued to flip.

“Boring, boring. Yadda yadda. Oh! Here we go. This looks good.”

He slowly turned to Eddie, his grin spreading wider. Eddie glanced to you, confused and your stomach lurched as he started reading. This whole time he’d been working toward this grand finale of embarrassment and damn, it was working.

“Eddie is by far the cutest guy I know. He’s always so nice to me. I don’t have many friends and he has always been so welcoming. Ugh. Skip the gooey stuff. Aha! In short, I absolutely have a crush on Eddie Munson. How sweet, the freak and the lonely loser!”

By this time, you’d practically melted into the floor. You snatched your bag up and turned to Gareth. He saw your face crumple and started to rise, but you put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I’ll see you later.”

The words came out in a rasp and you took off before you allowed yourself to breakdown. You burst through the library door, startling the librarian who shot up from her seat.

She tilted her head in concern and motioned for you to come behind the desk. She opened the door to her office, which you sped into, dropping your book on her desk as you went. She guided you to the small couch in her office and quickly brought you a cup of hot chocolate before stepping back out to the media desk and closing the door behind her.

You curled up against the cushions and sobbed, barely able to take sips of your drink. Your afternoon teachers would just have to wait to see you until Monday. Or maybe never if you decided to move out of the country.

~~~

You woke a while later, low voices murmuring outside the door.

“Have you seen her? I know she comes here a decent bit.”

“Mmm. Nope. Haven’t seen her since this morning,” the librarian retorted.

You pulled one of the blinds down to see Eddie standing across the counter. His eyes flicked to yours, drawn by the motion and you gasped, letting the blinds snap shut.

You began gathering your courage to step out. Meanwhile, Eddie’s mouth curled into an amused smirk. He spoke slightly louder, ensuring you could hear him.

“Alright, well if you see her, let her know I got her diary back from that jerk.”

You opened the door and poked your head out, bag slung over your shoulder. You looked to the librarian and nodded at her.

“I’m okay. Thanks for the hot chocolate. I’ll be back for more books next week.”

You offered her a grateful smile, which she promptly returned, patting your shoulder kindly. You stepped around the desk, arms crossed protectively over your chest as you looked into Eddie’s eyes. A gasp slipped out as you noticed his swollen split lip. “Hi,” you mumbled.

“Hello,” his voice lit with a smile. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and turned, brushing past him as he held the door open for you.

“Need a ride?”

“Probably,” you sighed.

It was just late enough in the day that all the buses were gone for the day, student parking lot almost emptied out.

He strolled at an easy pace beside you and you kept your eyes lowered, determined not to acknowledge the cafeteria incident. He paused right outside his van on the passenger side and pulled your blue book out from under his arm, passing it to you before he pulled the door open for you. You searched for a way to say thank you, I’m sorry, and never bring this up again, but instead gaped when you saw the other book he was holding.

“Why are you reading that book? I just turned it in.”

“Well. I thought it could help my campaigns.”

You turned away, embarrassed. He reached for your arm, taking hold of it gently.

“No no I’m not teasing you. I really liked your campaign ideas and thought that if you could write something like that after reading this, then maybe I could too.”

Your heart fluttered and you bit back a smile as you climbed into the van. Eddie shut the door once you were in and circled around to the other side, climbed in and started up the van.

The drive started off quiet until you couldn’t handle it anymore and blurted out, “I’m sorry!”

He chuckled, “What are you sorry for?”

“I just… I know he’s not above embarrassing people, but I feel like his main target was probably you, so I’m sorry. I know you like Chrissy and-“

You were cut off by him laughing and you shrank back into the seat. You trembled with frustration before saying, “Alright. If you’re gonna laugh at me, let me out. Stop the car.”

He rolled to a stop on the side of the road and you reached down for your seatbelt. He caught your hand in his and your breath halted in your throat, eyes tentatively rising to meet his. His bangs had grown a bit longer, landing right above his eyes. Your hand twitched, wanting to brush them aside. He squeezed your hand and your eyes drifted back to his.

“I like Chrissy. As a person. She’s very kind and we knew each other when we were younger. But I haven’t liked anyone else in a long time. No one besides you.”

Your thumb brushed his palm as your brain processed his words.

“Me? You like me?”

“That would be what I said, yes.”

“But why? Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“Why didn’t you?” He grinned as you blushed under his gaze. “I didn’t say anything because you’re Gareth’s best friend. He really cares about you. And about Hellfire. I didn’t want to start anything between us that could get messed up and make things awkward for him.”

You smiled at his consideration for your friend. Your diary poked at your side from where you’d tucked it next to you in the seat.

“Can I read something to you? Jason read a lot but somehow missed the best parts.”

He nodded enthusiastically and his eyes lit up as you opened your diary, stopping when you found the entry you were searching for. You kept holding hands, shivering when his rings brushed over your skin.

“Today was a bad day. I didn’t do so well on a test and the bus was late and it was pouring down rain. When it finally got there, Eddie ran up behind me and held his vest over my head until I got on. It happened so fast, I’m surprised I remember it. But I’ll never forget looking out the window and seeing him standing there in the rain. His fingers were hooked into the collar of his vest and it was slung over his shoulder. God, he looks good in the rain.”

You blushed but continued flipping to the next entry and began again, emboldened.

“Today I realized that my crush on Eddie isn’t just because he’s cute and kind to me. He’s good to everyone. It sucks seeing people mess with him. He’s somehow gotten so amazing at laughing it off and continuing about his day. He defends the kids in Hellfire. He takes care of everyone. I just wish he had someone to take care of him. I wish he knew how special he is.”

You closed the diary, your finger still tucked in. Fingers tenderly slid under your chin and lifted your face. He was waiting for you, his sweet smile already painted across his face. He groaned and blew out a puff of air.

“I wanna kiss you so bad, but could I take you out first? Where do you wanna go?”

You thought for a moment. “Well, I like ice cream.”

“Ice cream it is, then! Cone-gratulations on being the cutest person in Hawkins!”

“Oh, my God, Eddie.”

He snorted and your laughed filled the car as it started down the road again. He turned the volume up, one of his tapes in the player, and hit the dashboard in excitement when he caught you singing along.

“No way, you know this song?”

“I started listening because of you and as it turns out, I like metal music.”

“You are absolutely perfect.”

He pulled your joined hands to his mouth, kissing yours, careful of his injury. He set your hand down gently in your lap and his hand curled around your knee, determined to keep you close.

[roseweaslies]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.

Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares, me writing wayne in an awful way :(

Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.

It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.

It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.

Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.

The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.

Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.

Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.

After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.

Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.

Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.

Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.

It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.

Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.

He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.

He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.

He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.

After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.

One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.

He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.

Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.

What the hell was he doing?

Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.

He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.

"Hey, sweetheart."

Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.

"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.

He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.

“No, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's just…I'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I… I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.

Was he crying?

"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.

Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.

"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.

You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.

Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."

He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.

He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.

Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.

The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.

He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.

There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.

The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.

Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.

As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.

Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.

"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.

That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.

"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.

"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.

"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."

And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.

You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.

"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.

"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."

"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"

"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.

He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."

You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.

Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.

Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.

"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.

Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.

"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.

A surprised expression came onto your face.

"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.

Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.

"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.

Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."

You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."

Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.

"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.

You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."

The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."

Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.

You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7

[roseweaslies]

forgive me - benedict bridgerton x reader

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: friends to lovers, a lot of pining, some slight steaminess but it’s just built on intense longing and intense kissing

A/N: My first Bridgerton fic, which is slightly out of my comfort zone but has been a total joy to write! Feel free to send in any ideas you might want to see me write in the future. Hope you enjoy a good old friends to lovers confession with our boy Benedict <3

—

“You cannot seriously be considering such a thing? I shan’t hear of it, brother!”

It could never be said that the Bridgerton household was a dull one, a fact that you had witnessed firsthand ever since you were a child. Each time your mother had been invited round for tea with Lady Bridgerton, which seemed to happen far more frequently than was truly proper, you would attend too, following quietly behind her skirt. You would always begin with a shy smile towards the Bridgerton matriarch but once you were encouraged to join the children in the gardens, your inhibitions soon deserted you.

When you were first invited, Daphne and Eloise were just slightly too young to play with you properly and so you were forced to form friendships with the three eldest brothers. Whilst Anthony had largely grown out of such youthful things as friendship and Colin had travelled so extensively that your exchange of letters had grown thin, there was one Bridgerton brother that had provided a constant ever since childhood.

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