#It's such a blink and you miss it moment but that line really stood out to me when I rewatched the episode yesterday

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)

MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.

MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it’s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”

MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.

MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.

MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.

“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.

“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.

“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.

MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.

When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.

You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.

It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[elliesbff]

“i need you.”

- abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 c:

cw: nsfw, scissoring, (r and abby! recieving) oral sex, (r! receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. enjoy! ˖ ࣪⊹

read pt 1 of i need you here!

.*･｡ﾟ 𝜗𝜚 .*･｡ﾟ

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby WLF, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please… please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

fin.

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it was definitely a lot longer than i planned, and sorry again for taking so long!! but i enjoyed writing this a lot, hopefully you guys enjoy reading it too. ♡♡

dt: louise again realest oomf!!

word count: 2,793

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hi!!! I can request a modern!azriel x reader in which he likes her, but all his attempts to get close to her have been thwarted because they got off on the wrong foot. Then someone tells him that she's part of a book club and he starts joining just to get closer to her and the rest is up to you :)

Ooooooo I love this! x

New Pages

Modern!Az x Reader

Warnings - swearing, angst, pining, fluff, cutie Az

I have not proof read this so I apologise in advance for any mistakes x

And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.

The background of your phone screen harmonised with the words inscribed on the flesh of your arm. You were bundled under blankets, pillows cushioning your back, and your eyes scanned the plethora of words in front of you, your tea long forgotten on the window ledge.

Your sorority house was teaming with girlish laughter, the quick padding down the hallways and the dull melodic thump of Nesta's bass told you one thing, the house party Mor had insisted on throwing for Feyre's birthday was going to start soon, and you hadn't even thought about getting ready.

Would they realise if you didn't go? It was completely possible to throw your earbuds in and lock your bedroom door...

That train of thought was interrupted when the said birthday girl sprang through your door, "You're not ready?!" Feyre squeaked, large rollers were pinned in her hair and she stood at the foot of your bed with fake eyelashes in one hand and a small vial of glue in the other.

"I lost track of time," you told her, curling your legs underneath you and laying your book down open on the bed so that you could pick up right where you left off, "Also, have you ever heard of knocking?"

"We don't knock," she quipped, throwing herself down on the bed and sighing, "This doesn't have anything to do with him does it?"

"With who?"

"Oh, come on, Y/N. You know who," she prodded your side and you groaned, folding your arms over your chest whilst Feyre applied glue to the thin onyx lash line, "If it helps, I really don't think he knew you were behind that door," she blew lightly on the lash, party drying the glue and used your mirror to fix it to her right eye.

You winced at the memory, your fingers ghosting over the bridge of your nose that had only days before returned to its normal hue, "I've only just gotten rid of that bruise, all the concealer in the world couldn't hide that mess."

"Still," she blinked, "I really don't think he did it on purpose. Rhys said he felt really bad."

"Like he felt bad after the time he ran over my foot on that stupid motorcycle? I missed the Van Gogh exhibit because of that bullshit."

"Y/N..." Feyre drawled, exasperated with you and your excuses, "Please just get dressed," she had applied the other eyelash to her left eye and pushed them into place before turning to you with a smirk, "Before I let Mor in here."

"Okay, I'm up."

All of the entangled grinding bodies did little to soothe your anxiety.

You'd never been much of a party girl, and you had only joined the sorority because Mor and Feyre had insisted upon it. Lights strobed against the pale pink glittery banners and balloons that Elain had spent all day carefully throwing up whilst Nesta enlisted Cassian to get all of the booze.

The seating area in the centre of the room was brimming with all of the faces that you knew, Rhys with Feyre sat on his lap adorning a pathetic plastic tiara on the crown of her head, Mor wedged next to them with her legs strung over Emerie's thighs, Amren chatting away to Elain and Lucien on the far sofa, Nesta making sex eyes at Cassian, and then there was him.

Azriel.

The lights reflected off his smooth skin, tussled onyx short hair that looked somewhat windswept, hazel eyes and his strong jaw ticking as he searched the room before his eyes landed on you, finding you in the ocean of bodies surrounding where they all sat.

"Y/N!" A voice shouted to you over the crowd, red wine hair and amber eyes, she held her hand out to you and you clutched onto it, allowing her to pull you through into a small clearing by the stairs.

"Thanks, Bryce," she smirked over her shoulder at you, plucking two drinks from Hunt's hands and placing one in your grip.

Bryce was one of Nesta's friends that you had met when she had joined your art history class after a timetable mix up, you'd been pretty close since, you studied with Bryce in the library and Hunt occasionally joined as did Bryce's brother, Ruhn.

"Don't mention it," she clinked her glass against yours and you both downed half of the liquid, clearly you had some catching up to do from taking as long as possible to get ready, only joining the party when Nesta had sent you a snappy text about kicking your ass down the stairs if you didn't show your face in the next five minutes.

"Hey Athalar," he grinned at you, muttering a hello as he gave you a side hug. Hunt liked you a lot, you were good for Bryce, you were gentle and timid, but had a thunderous passion for the things you loved. Bryce was one of those things.

Bryce gave you a once over. A sleek white dress clung to your figure, every curve accentuated perfectly by the clean cut fabric that reached just below you ass, giving a perfect view of your legs. Black heeled boots were laced onto your feet, hair styled into effortless waves, and your makeup was simple and natural, highlighting your cheekbones and lips. Bryce approved.

Bryce smirked, noticing the pair of violet eyes that crept up behind you, they wrapped their arms around your waist and hoisted you in the air, placing you over their shoulder and twirling you around, chuckling as you squeaked in surprise, "Put me down, Ruhn!" With a light tap on your ass, Ruhn obliged and put you back on your feet.

Ruhn always looked good, long hair pulled back into a low messy bun, the sides always shaved, tattoos flowing up and down his arms, tan skin, taut muscle, tank top and cargo jeans. So good.

"Can't help myself," he slid an arm around your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple, "You look beautiful."

The elder sibling had always pined after you, he would wait in the courtyard outside of the art building to walk you back to the house, he'd bring you breakfast on a Sunday, he'd even taken you to your first football game.

"Thank you, Ruhn," you leaned into him and smiled, tuning back into the conversation between Bryce and Hunt, and the newly arrived Tristan Flynn, paying little attention to the burning hot hazel gaze that branded into your back.

There had been too many times where Az had fucked up.

Running over your foot was an accident that led to the spiralling mess that was your relationship, and every time he had tried to make up for it, it just kept on getting worse. Chocolates? Turns out you were allergic to nuts and blew up like a balloon. Coffee? He'd spilt the oat chai latte all over your brand new summer dress and ruined it. The movies? He had miscounted the group and forgot to get yours, and by then there were no tickets left. And then the door. That stupid fucking door. Azriel was so busy talking to Feyre about you that he didn't see you on the other side and smashed it right into your face.

Every time Azriel tried to talk to you, to voice how sorry he was and how stupidly in love with you he was, he fucked it up.

So yeah, he didn't blame you for hating him.

"Wanna stare a little harder, Az?"

Azriel turned his head slightly, forcing himself to look away from Ruhn's arm around you and his lips by your ear, whispering who knows what to you. At least the bruises under your eyes and around your nose had cleared, enough that you no longer winced when you smiled.

"She seems a little off today," he said to no one in particular, letting his words float into the air in hope someone would tell him why.

Azriel had spent a good amount of time studying you and your little quips, the face you'd make when you were concentrating, how many cups of tea you'd make after leaving them somewhere and forgetting about them, even your morning routines on your way to class.

Mor threw herself down beside him, the sofa cushion hissing out under her weight, "She missed book club tonight, she loves book club," Mor's eyes were glazed over, a sloppy smirk pulled at her lips.

"Book club?" Azriel asked, he knew you loved reading, but he never knew that you went to an actual book club.

"Yeah, you know, a place where people talk about the books they've been reading?," Nesta scoffed when Azriel flipped her off, she continued, "This week was meant to be the first session about The Perks of Being a Wallflower, it's her favourite," Nesta stirred her drink with her straw, "Just in case you wanted to make a gesture."

Azriel nodded, his eyes finding you again, "Thanks, Nes."

Azriel was fiddling idly with his fingers as people began to file into the room clutching copies of the book you loved so much, the same book that he had rushed out to get the morning after Feyre's party so that he could read it in time to talk to you about it.

Walls of books lined the room, dainty oak tables and arm chairs scattered around in a circle with blankets folded neatly over the arms. Warm fairy lights lit the ceiling, and Azriel understood why you must have been sad to have missed the last session.

He heard your laugh before he saw you, he saw the edges of your skirt that kissed the floorboards and allowed his sight to roam upward until he found your eyes wide and full of surprise, stuck in the doorway. You soon shook off the surprise and took a seat at the other side of the circle, looking to him occasionally with confusion.

"What quote resonated with you the most, Azriel? There are a lot to choose from."

You had looked to him then, really looked at him, not with hatred or any form of disgust, but with pure curiosity, bright shiny curiosity.

"It's much easier to not know things sometimes. Things change and friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody. I wanted to laugh. Or maybe get mad. Or maybe shrug at how strange everybody was, especially me. I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people. You can't just sit their and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things. I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm going to be who I really am. And I'm going to figure out what that is. And we could all sit around and wonder and feel bad about each other and blame a lot of people for what they did or didn't do or what they didn't know. I don't know. I guess there could always be someone to blame. It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. Because it's okay to feel things. I was really there. And that was enough to make me feel infinite. I feel infinite."

Azriel had recited the passage perfectly, he didn't even need to open the book and turn to the page. He just knew it. His voice was so deep and spoke emotion into every word, like he was in a trance.

The session had wrapped up and you had kept your distance during the breaks, seemingly lost in a world of thought, so Azriel thought it would be best to leave you alone. If the baby step in your relationship simply was having you look at him with anything but hatred, then he'd take it, he didn't want to push it.

"Azriel, wait!" Your voice called to him and he froze on the grass outside of the art building, turning slowly to face you as you jogged across the plain toward him, your skirt flowing in the wind behind you.

You looked pretty, you always did, but in the moonlight, with your hair tied back and loose threads falling over your face, with the two sizes too big jumper drowning your figure, he thought you looked ethereal.

"I didn't know you liked reading," you had said once you stopped in front of him, holding your favourite book to your chest.

"I don't talk about it."

"Right, it's just Feyre never mentioned it," you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smiled up at him with a tilted head, examining him.

Azriel took a step toward you, one hand in his pocket and another holding onto his own copy, "Why would Feyre mention it?"

"I, I don't know actually," you mumbled, slightly flustered, you were adorable when you were flustered, "Is that your first time reading it?"

"Yeah, it was great. I see why it's your favourite."

"How do you know that?" A smirk tugged at your lips, ones that he wished he could taste, just once, so that he could tell the devil he had been to heaven without ever stepping foot there.

"Nesta may have said something."

"Ah," you kicked the air, shivering at the cold breeze that brushed past you, "Would you like to borrow my copy? I left notes in the margins that you might like."

Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, he looked at the book with the dented spine from the countless times it had been explored, the frayed edges and the faint hue of blue ink that peeked out from one of the pages. He took it from you with a smile, "Can I, uh, walk you back?"

A moment of silence beat its heart and you hummed, "I think I'd like that."

"Right, great," he told you as you began to walk off, quickening his pace to fall in line with you.

You smelt of summer rain of freshly cut grass, of jasmine and orchid, a mind altering scent, "You know that I never meant to run over your foot last year right?"

"Or spill coffee over my dress? Or smack my face with that door?"

"Yeah, I haven't been very smooth," you laughed, actually laughed at him, with him, and it was an intoxicating sound, one of pure joy and happiness, "I never meant to hurt you."

"I believe you," the stars shone in the sky and you looked up at them, a smile ghosting at your lips, "I'm ready to turn a new page if you are?"

"I'm all about turning new pages."

You leaned into him, nudging him softly with your elbow, "Let's see what you've got then, Shadowsinger."

Authors Note

I really hope this is what you were wanting!

[denim-mixtapes]

Showstopper

And I know it's just a phase, you're not in love with me, but if you wanna piss off your parents, baby, that's alright with me.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Word Count: Just over 15k Summary: Dreading going home to strict parents over Thanksgiving break, your good friend Eddie Munson offers to tag along and pretend to be your boyfriend to get under their skin and take their focus off of you. Over tense dinners and pointed conversation, you seek comfort in his closeness, blurring the lines between fact and fiction. (Based on the song 18 by Anarbor) Warnings: NSFW 18+ SMUT, Minors DNI or I'll stub all your toes. Tense family dynamics, strict/overbearing parents, idiot friends to fuck buddies, teasing, fingering, oral (both f & m receiving), squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm if you blink, unprotected sex (DON'T DO THAT, STUPID), an stupid amount of pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, sweet thing) instead of Y/N. I think that's it but lemme know if I missed anything!

[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] <- Coming Soon! [AO3]

a/n: I meant to post this on Thanksgiving, but it...got away from me as you can tell from the word count. Sorry for the delay and for the long lead up before the actual smut but I hope yall enjoy!!

The first time you met Eddie Munson, you threatened him with pepper spray. 

Okay so maybe it was actually hair spray, but the threat was there. 

He had walked into your dorm room unannounced, and in a moment of panic you completely forgot you had a roommate that could potentially have visitors. All you knew was that you were alone in your dorm, and then without any preamble or warning, there was a mysterious man with long hair, dark features, and wrapped in leather letting himself in. 

And he believed you at first, he really did, held his hands up in defense and stepped back out into the threshold with wide eyes and an apologetic ramble. Until he noticed that your trembling hand was not clutching a can of mace, but a travel sized bottle of Aqua Net, shaking just as much as you were. 

He couldn’t help but laugh. 

He still stayed back, knowing that you were not his intended target and surely you must be nerrvous, but dropped his hands to lean on the door frame, his whole body shaking with laughter. Despite your initial fear, his humor was contagious. The once intimidating man who stood tall and broad was hunched with laughter, his eyes wrinkling around the edges when his smile widened. You couldn’t help but soften and lower your arm, chuckling a little (albeit nervously) along with him. 

“Yeah, killer,” he laughed, voice low and smooth, “put that thing down before you hurt someone. Or worse, make ‘em crispy.” 

“I– panicked,” you admitted, defeated. Then, standing taller again, trying to keep your defenses strong, “but what are you doing walking into random girls' dorms?” 

“Uh, Buckley,” the stranger pointed to your roommate’s side of the room. “Robin Buckley? She lives here, right?” You nodded. “We’re friends, I’m meeting her for dinner and she told me to come on up when I got here. She said you’d be in class.” 

Huh. You’d have to talk to her about warning you before she let just anyone walk on in unannounced. 

“Canceled,” you mumbled in explanation, then gestured to Robin’s bed. “Uh I guess I won’t make you sit out in the hall. You can wait for her here.” 

A wide, toothy grin spread over his features and he approached you with big, thankful eyes shining under the fluorescent overhead lighting. A hand outstretched, he replied, “appreciated. ‘M Eddie.” 

And so began a blossoming friendship. Over the rest of your freshman year, Robin introduced you to more of her friends. You didn’t have trouble making your own friends, per se, you had a few classmates who you would grab lunch with between classes and a couple study groups, but the people your roommate introduced you to just clicked with you. You heard all about her girlfriend Nancy, though she was off in Boston at Emerson, so you only ever spoke to her when Robin had her on speaker phone. Everyone else just kind of came along naturally. You were attending school far from home, but within reasonable distance from Robin’s hometown of Hawkins, so even though Eddie and her best friend Steve weren’t attending college anywhere, they often found themselves on your campus to bug your roommate (and by proxy, you). 

By the end of your first year at school, you were confident you were part of their crew, and you were happily signing up to room with Robin once again the following year. 

Which is what brought you here. 

You’re laying in bed, feet thrown up against the cinder block walls and your head hanging over the edge, Robin mirroring you on her own bed. Steve has long since gotten dizzy and sat upright next to Robin, and Eddie called you all ridiculous from the get go and chose to lay on your bean bag chair between the three of you. 

“What the fuck am I gonna do,” you moan, scrubbing your hands down your face in defeat. 

“I’m sure it’ll be okay, babe,” Robin assures, though you know she is just blindly trying to comfort you. 

“Okay,” Steve leans forward, elbows on his knees and squints at you. The effects of Eddie’s special cookies are hitting all four of you hard, all of you lazy and sluggish and a little less cohesive than your usual state. “Explain to me again what the problem is? It sounds like your mom just wants you home for Thanksgiving.” 

Sitting up slowly and trying to ignore the head rush you get from being upright once again, you gripe, “that is the problem. I went to school across the country from home for a reason. I’m already going back next month for winter break and I want to be there…as little as possible. So I was hoping I could work through Thanksgiving break like last year.” 

“No dice?” Eddie asks from his spot on the floor, even though you swear you’ve gone over this with all of them three times by now. 

“No,” you grumble, “last year I worked in the caf, so it was no problem, they were open all break for students staying on campus This year–” 

“The library closes over break.” Robin cut you off to supply. 

You only nod pitifully, slumping back into your stack of pillows with a hmph. You’re aware that you’re being dramatic, but you’ve grown accustomed to your life away from home. Away from watchful eyes and curfews at 19 years old and sharp comments about your wardrobe that honestly, could be much, much worse. The last thing you want to do is return home and be treated like a child again. 

Eddie’s fingers wrap around your ankle comfortingly, but he hits a ticklish spot and you kick at his hand lightly, laughing all the while. 

“Home is really that miserable, huh?” He asks quietly. Not prying, not judging, just pondering. 

“I have a dad who still treats me like I’m seven and a mom who keeps trying to set me up with members of her church in hopes that they’ll ‘lead me back down the right path’…what do you think?” 

Your three friends mumble a series of one word replies all at once. “Yikes.” “Barf.” “Christ.”

The conversation moves on after that. Robin and Steve arguing about Back to the Future, something they always seem to go back to when they’re high. She told you once that they saw it in theaters the first time they smoked together, but the way that neither of them could keep a straight face told you there was more to the story. You half listen, grumbling to yourself and counting the browning ceiling tiles above you. 

Your mattress dips and you look up to see Eddie grinning at you behind a curtain of hair, sitting cross legged on the spot next to you. 

“What?” You ask through a laugh, eyeing him briefly before going back to the task at hand, the ceiling tiles. 

He nudges you with his knee, trying to get your attention. “You know what you should do?” Your response is no more than a hum adorned with a question mark, but it prompts him to continue. There’s a gleam in his eye when he goes on, “somethin’ wild. Show up at home with a tattoo or bright purple hair. Or a tongue ring! Something to push their buttons and shock ‘em a little.” 

Eddie Munson always has a way of turning your mood around. His joy is infectious. If he’s laughing, you’re not too far behind him, and it’s always been that way. Likewise, he’s quick to follow when you dissolve into giggle fits, his demeanor and pose always mimics yours, just like now when he ends up on his back beside you, legs dangling sideways off the edge. 

You end up passing ideas back and forth for a few minutes. 

“Teardrop tattoo,” he says, snorting. 

“A pentagram.” 

“You could shave one side of your head.” 

“Or my eyebrows.” 

“Get tattoos where your eyebrows used to be. Something classy like…hail Satan.” 

“Or Daddy’s girl,” you sputter, unable to hold back the raucous laughter any longer. 

Eddie joins you, practically cackling with how sudden it is. “I think that’s it. That’s the one.” 

And then it hits you. Something still just as shocking as showing up with a tattoo, but much less permanent. It’s right in front of you, it has been the whole time. You sit up suddenly enough to get Steve and Robin’s attention and grin wildly down at Eddie. 

It’s his turn to mumble out a soft, “what?” enraptured by your sudden intensity.

“I think I’ve got something better. Something that won’t cost me hundreds of dollars or my future chances at employment.” 

“Go on,” he urges. 

“You come home with me.” 

From the other half of your room, Robin and Steve shout their confusion in unison, but Eddie just sits up to mirror you, mischief etched in his smile. “How bold of you, sweetheart. You know, I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” 

“No- shut up,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious. You just told us earlier your uncle has to work on Thanksgiving. Come back to my parents with me. You’ll get a home cooked meal, all the fixings, really, my mom goes crazy. I mean this with all the love in my heart but if I bring home a guy like you?” You giggle, “my dad’ll lose his shit.” 

“You flatter me,” he chuckles. Then, smirking, “you askin’ me to be your fake boyfriend, sweetheart?” 

“I– yeah.” 

“Hell yeah,” he nods, “I’m in. When are we leaving?” 

Robin throws a pillow at you, missing terribly but still getting your attention. “What the fuck just happened?” 

—

As promised, as soon as your last class on Tuesday let out, you loaded up your car and headed to Hawkins to pick up your boyfriend-for-the-week. He’s waiting for you outside his trailer, leaning heavily against the stairway railing, ankles crossed, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t have much by way of luggage, just a tattered olive green backpack hanging off of one shoulder that he throws in the back seat alongside your prim camel colored leather duffel bag. 

When he slides into the passenger seat he leans into your personal space, drawing out his greeting with a smug smile. “Hi, darling.” 

“Hey,” you greet, palming his face and lightly shoving it away. “You ready?” 

Eddie Munson practically pouts at you. “What, no hello kiss?” 

“Can it, Munson,” you chide before shifting your car in gear. “You’re not on the clock yet. We still have a four hour drive before you’re officially the boyfriend.” 

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it’ll be a hell of a lot more believable if we have a little practice beforehand. I mean- we’re going to have to put on a show, right? A good actor doesn’t go in blind. They run lines. Rehearse. Don’t want you freezing up in shock when I plant one on you in front of dear ol’ Dad for the first time, do we?” 

He’s leaning into you again, speaking with a kind of intensity only Eddie can, and it makes you shake your head. 

“Okay, well, I’m kinda busy driving at the moment. I’ll get back to you at the next rest stop.” 

The first stretch on the open road is spent concocting a story. How you met, how long you’ve been together, things that might come up in conversation. Something not far from the truth, so that you could keep your stories straight, but embellished a little where you needed to. He supplies the story for your first date, dinner at a diner and live music somewhere on campus. You raise him dinner at a dive bar and listening to cassettes in the back of his van. He calls you diabolical. 

At your first stop, about an hour in for gas and snacks, he offers to drive until the next stop and you pass him the keys with a soft smile and a hurried kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s fleeting, over before it’s even started because it stuns him, and you skip away to the passenger side feeling way more smug than you have any right being. 

“Who were we worried about freezing up, again?” You asked over the roof of the car, ducking at the last second when he throws a balled up napkin at you. 

For this portion of the drive, you take the opportunity to get to know one another. Favorites and firsts, pet peeves and guilty pleasures. Some things you knew already after a year of friendship, the little things like favorite bands and movies, but you knew you needed more than that to be a believable couple. You learn that he loves the smell after it rains and that even though he hates raisins, he loves cinnamon raisin bagels because they remind him of his Uncle Wayne. He learns that your favorite color changes with your mood, about your irrational fear of revolving doors, and the exact number of blankets you absolutely need in order to fall asleep (though he had his suspicions, he’s seen you make your bed before). 

Over your game of twenty questions, his hand wanders from the wheel to the gear shift, the movement subtle because he’s always talking with his hands, and eventually it lands hesitantly on your thigh. You pretend not to notice, but bite back a smile and catch yourself flushing in the reflection of the window nonetheless. 

After another hour or so of driving you make him pull over for a bathroom break and offer to take the wheel again when you’re done. You make to take the keys from him, but he’s quick to hold them over his head, just out of reach. 

“Hey!” You complain, now your turn to invade his personal space to try and steal the keys back. “It’s my car. Let me take over!” 

You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close your faces are when a slow smirk spreads over his lips. “Now, baby, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you drive when I’m right here, fully capable?” 

“Damn, Munson.” You snark, “we’ve been together all of two hours and you’re already trying to turn me into a passenger princess?” 

“Maybe I am.” His free hand wraps around your waist, landing at the small of your back to pull you just a little bit closer, closing the gap between you. You let out a small yelp of surprise that Eddie quickly swallows, his lips landing on yours harder and more insistent than the last kiss you shared. Your shock wears off quickly, leaving you leaning into his embrace with a happy hum in the back of your throat. Just as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, you’re made aware of your surroundings when a passerby clears their throat. When you pull away and catch a glimpse of his face, you’re certain you’re going to have to get used to that damn smirk. It seems to be his natural resting face since you asked him to do this, and god if it doesn’t suit him. “I kinda like that term,” he mumbles, emphasizing the new pet name as he ushers you around to the passenger seat, repeating it back into your ear with a hushed breath, “princess.”

You’ll have to get used to all the blushing too. 

With a lead foot and a hand absent-mindedly tapping along to the radio on your thigh, Eddie manages to shave a half an hour off the rest of the drive, and before you know it and without another rest stop, you’re directing him off the highway and through the cozy streets of your small hometown. You managed to give him a run down on all of the relatives he could possibly meet this weekend. Who to watch out for and who to actually play nice with (really, it’s just your parents to look out for), names and how they’re related to you as if there would be a quiz at the end of Thanksgiving dinner. Hell, knowing how overprotective your parents are there very well could be. 

It’s silent when he pulls into your parents driveway and cuts the engine, so quiet you fear he might hear your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Staring down the house, the walkway seems to stretch out longer than you remember. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

“Hey.” Squeezing at your knee where his hand is still resting, Eddie’s voice is sincere. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are soft, encouraging. He lets his head rest back against the seat with a thump and smiles. “I know I’m here to piss off your parents, but I’m still your friend, too. I’ll be right by your side all weekend, if it ever gets too much, just say the word and I’ve got you, okay?” 

You’re not sure where this burst of sentiment came from, but you’re grateful for it. His words wrap around your heart and squeeze, and you blink back the tears they bring. Though you’ve had fun planning to torment your family, there was still a weight on your chest every time you thought about going home and Eddie, ever observant, could tell. 

“Kay,” you say softly, mouthing an even quieter thank you. Then, leaning across the center console, you brighten up. “Run lines one more time before the big scene?” 

It’s a bold request, a little selfish, partly because you want to stall a little longer but frankly, you just want to kiss him again in the safety and comfort of your car. Where it can be just that, a kiss. You want another moment all to yourself without the watchful eye of your family, and without the obligation of having to prove something.

He kisses you lazy this time, hands framing your face, lips dragging slowly against yours like he has all the time in the world. Like he’s stretching out this moment so you don’t have to face the next one. Your eyes flutter shut and you reach for him clumsily over the console, clutching onto the lapel of his leather jacket like he was going to float away if you didn’t. 

You don’t want to admit it, but you could get used to kissing Eddie Munson, charade or not.

When you part ways and reluctantly make your way inside, Eddie insists on carrying both your bag and his own. You try to argue but he has none of it. You let yourself in the front door and call out a greeting. 

Christmas music filters in from the back of the house alongside the smell of your mom’s famous baked spaghetti. “In the den!” Her voice calls out from the same direction as the music. Toeing off your shoes, you gesture for Eddie to follow you through the halls and into the den. It’s the picture of your childhood, exactly as you remember. Your dad is hidden behind the newspaper, houseshoes propped up on the coffee table. In her armchair facing away from the door, your mom is curled up with a book, reading glasses perched on the end of her slender nose. She feels your presence and greets you without looking up. “Hi honey! Give me just a second to finish this paragraph and I’ll get up, give you a big hug.” 

Eddie’s presence is solid against you, warm, and his firm hand at the small of your back is a constant reminder that he’s there within reach. You try to speak up, to introduce him, but your throat goes dry, and soon enough your mother is tossing her book on the coffee table and standing to greet you. 

“Sorry honey, I – oh, hello!” She’s shocked, clearly, but still keeps a polite, tight smile. “Who’s this?” 

Prompted by her comment, your dad folds down one corner of the newspaper to glance up at you. His poker face isn’t as great. You can see the glare flash across his features before he folds the paper and stands. When he says hello to you, it's with a bright smile and a tight hug, but the second he addresses Eddie, his demeanor chills again. 

“Guys this is Eddie,” you introduce, reaching behind you to take his hand. The words feel clumsy on your tongue, but you manage to play off the stutter as nerves. “My boy– my boyfriend.” 

You could hear a pin drop. 

In the silence that follows, you begin to rethink this entire plan. You suddenly feel so small, back in your childhood home and under the intense stare of your parents (though your dad’s eyes are definitely more trained on Eddie’s every move than your own). But you didn’t come all this way and drag your friend all this way to back down now, so you take their stunned silence as an opportunity to turn in Eddie’s hold and grin at him eagerly, mouthing the word showtime. 

He takes his cue, cupping your cheek in a warm palm and dragging you toward him to close the little distance between you. It feels different this time, like he has something to prove. He’s insistent, leaning into you hungrily and nipping at your lips with a wicked chuckle under his breath as he retreats. He stands at full height again to finally address your parents. 

“Thanks for having me, sir,” he quips, and he salutes, actually fucking salutes, much to your father’s outrage. Then he turns a charming smile on your mother, “ma’am.” 

His kill-them-with-kindness attitude and sickeningly sweet fake politeness has you biting back a laugh, but nobody in this room is paying an ounce of attention to you. 

Thank God.

The rage in your father’s voice is unmistakable, the heat of it pours from him in waves when he responds. “I would say it’s my pleasure but I don’t remember inviting you, son.” You’re afraid to look too closely, but you’re almost certain the vein on his forehead is fit to burst already and you’ve only just arrived. 

“Honey,” your mother pipes up, putting a calming hand on her husband’s arm, though you can hear the strain in her voice as well. “When you called and said you were bringing a friend who had nowhere to go for the holiday I…well I thought it was going to be Robin.” 

“Oh, no,” your lips press into a line, and without thinking, you reach out for Eddie’s hand for support, breath hitching at the bite of cold metal from the various rings he’s always sporting. “Her family is big on holidays. Never miss one. But…” Giving Eddie’s hand a tug to pull him closer to you, your other hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat for good measure. You ham it up, laying your head on his shoulder with a dreamy smile as you continue. “Eddie’s only family is his Uncle Wayne, and he’s going to be workin’ a double on Thursday. I couldn’t just leave him behind with a frozen TV dinner for Thanksgiving of all days.” 

Though strict, you know your mom isn’t made of stone. She can’t resist a sob story and she’s a sucker for any holiday, so despite the concern in her eyes and a husband fit to start screaming any moment, she smiles and nods. 

“Of course, honey,” Her voice softens, though her guard is still up. She turns her pointed smile on Eddie and gestures to the door, “the guest room is already made up for you, and it would be a shame to spend the holiday alone, so we’re happy to have you, Eddie.” 

The sound you make is somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Mom! That’s hardly necessary. I’m an adult, I’m perfectly capable of sharing a bed with my boyfriend.” 

Eddie quirks an interested brow at you but you roll your eyes in dismissal. 

It’s not that you want to share a room with Eddie. If you’re being honest, you haven’t really put much thought to the sleeping situation. It only makes sense that he would take the guest room…but you also know that if the goal is to get under your parents’ skin, this is the way to do it, so you give a petulant whine and a huff for good measure. 

It’s your father who speaks up this time, pushing forward and deliberately between you and Eddie to break your embrace as he makes his way toward the stairs. “Absolutely not,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only stops near the door to pick up both of your bags and continue up the stairs. “You are nineteen, just barely. That may make you an adult on paper but you are still my child and a guest in this house so you’ll do as I say.” Passing your childhood bedroom, he drops your duffel at the door with a scowl and moves two doors down to the guest room where he throws Eddie’s knapsack even harder onto the bed. “And we don’t know this punk from Adam. You’re lucky we’re letting him stay at all, so be grateful for what you have, which is only two doors separating you.” 

Ever the peacemaker, your mom steps in and clears her throat. “What your father means is that we would just both be more…comfortable if – for this trip – Eddie stayed in here. Right, Dear?” 

Your father sighs, “yes, yes, that’s exactly it.” 

“Anyway,” she tries to move past it, like she always has, sweeping his anger under the rug and trying to move on before there can be any more unpleasantries. It’s one of the things you hated most about being home, the fact that she so clearly agreed with most of his conservative and overprotective views but tried so hard to make it seem like she was on your side. She moves in to give you another tight hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey. Dinner will be ready soon, why don’t you two get settled in and then meet us in the dining room?” 

You thank her softly and a little insincerely, and the pair of them retreat back down the stairs, allowing you to let out the breath you’ve been holding. 

“Jesus Christ, I get what you mean.” Eddie Mumbles, and you only groan in agreement, falling gracelessly onto the edge of the bed with your head in your hands. The bed dips as he joins you, and soon enough you’re both laughing softly at the absurdity of the situation. “Hey,” he nudges your shoulder with his own, “you’re killing it.” 

“Hardly,” you snort, “I feel like I’m a kid again. It just…this all sounded fun in theory but I forgot how small they make me feel.” 

“All the more reason to keep on keepin’ on. C’mon, I want to see how many more times we can make that vein in his forehead pop.” A reassuring arm wraps around your shoulder and shakes you lightly until you let out a soft laugh. “There she is! Nice touch demanding that I stay in your room, by the way. Really! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually wanted me to.” 

“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, standing up and stretching out your tired limbs. “Come on, let’s go eat.” 

The rest of the night goes rather uneventfully. It’s tense, for sure, but the initial shock has worn off and by the way your parents are acting, you’re certain they managed to sneak in a drink each while you were upstairs. The conversation over dinner is mostly focused on you, how your semester is going and how much you like your job. You ask them about their careers, about family members you haven’t seen in a while. Eventually your mother’s need to be seen as polite prompts her to include Eddie in her questioning, but she keeps it mild for now, asking how he liked the drive to your hometown and if the food was to his taste. 

After dinner your mom offers coffee and a movie, but the long drive and your early alarm for school this morning are an easy enough excuse to retire early and get a good long night’s sleep before the rest of your family arrives tomorrow. 

When you part ways in the hall at the top of the stairs, he stops you with a hand on your wrist and a mischievous grin. 

“What?” You laugh, looking down the stairs, “You want a goodnight kiss now, too? They’re not watching.” 

“Here,” he replies, reaching for the back collar of his tattered Black Sabbath t-shirt and pulling it over his head effortlessly. He hands the shirt over to you and gives it a little shake, “wear it down to breakfast in the morning, yeah? It’ll drive them crazy.” 

You thank him as you take the shirt from his hand and smile, trying your best not to let your eyes linger on his exposed skin, pale and littered with tattoos, some you’re just now seeing for the first time. With a blush and a shake of your head, you bid him goodnight and retreat to your bedroom. 

—

The morning of Thanksgiving brings another early wake up call, but it’s hardly a surprise. Holidays have always been this way, up at the crack of dawn and helping in the kitchen all day since you were old enough to snap green beans. It’s not all bad, some of your best memories are with your mother and aunt in the kitchen. Cooking together almost made you forget how unbearable it was to be home. 

It goes as it always does, the two of you still in your pajamas, getting the more annoying and time consuming prep out of the way before anyone else wakes up. When your dad joins you in the kitchen, already fully dressed and sporting a tired scowl, you make the coffee while your mom pauses to throw the breakfast casserole she’d prepared the night before into the oven. You’re like a well oiled machine, and you work together so well that she almost doesn’t notice your choice in sleepwear. 

Almost. 

“Honey, why don’t you go upstairs and change into something a little more appropriate?” She suggests coolly. “I can hold down the fort until Aunt Ellen gets here.” 

“Aw,” you pout softly, pouring your own cup of coffee. You know why she’s urging you to change, and it makes you want to push the issue even further. “But we always stay in our pajamas until Grandma’s on her way! Even Aunt Ellen brings her comfies to cook in and a change of clothes for dinner.” 

“You and I both know that is hardly your typical sleepwear, dear.” Your father grunts from behind the morning paper. 

Although she bristles at his blunt choice of words, your mom looks at you with concern, clearly agreeing with him. 

You only huff, watching the creamer swirl as you pour it into the darkness of the mug. You’re about to respond when a pair of warm hands wrap around your waist from behind, making you jump. 

“I think you look killer,” Eddie chuckles at your surprise, his head nestling into the crook of your neck to press a kiss just behind your ear. “Y’wear that thing better than I do, Sweetheart.” 

Head bowed, you roll your eyes at his theatrics but hug his arms closer around your stomach, turning in place to wrinkle your nose at him, a hint of jest in your tone when you greet him. “Good morning, baby.” 

His eyes flick past your shoulder to your parents to be confident they’re looking (of course they are), then with another dark laugh drops his head to greet you with a feverish kiss. It’s too much for a simple good morning, utterly indecent the way his tongue slips past your lips without permission, and his hands drop to your hips to turn you further into his embrace, until one of your parents – you couldn’t care less which one – clears their throat and startles you apart. 

Your face is hot when Eddie smiles brightly, hitting you with a wink and a cheerful, “mornin’.” He mumbles a soft, “gonna go for a smoke, be right back,” into your ear, and then louder, calling over his shoulder as he walks toward the front door, cigarette dangling from his lips, “smells delicious already, ladies, I can’t wait!” 

You’re feeling quite smug at their stunned silence, until the door slams behind him and takes the breath from your lungs with it. You grip the mug so tightly your knuckles turn white, and the quiet from behind you turns deafening. 

It’s your mom that breaks it first, talking in a hushed tone that she must think you can’t hear, despite only being a few feet away. 

“He smokes?” 

“Are you surprised?” Your dad quips, “look at the kid. I’m surprised you can’t smell it on him.” 

“Oh, come on. Don’t be cruel. I’m just as unhappy about this as you are but there’s no reason to be rude.” 

That’s when you jump in, the scoff on your lips is almost as natural as your breath. “You guys know I’m right here, right? You are being rude, both of you.” 

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” Her voice is more patronizing than remorseful. “But truly, what is it that you see in that boy? He seems nice enough I suppose, but he’s not what I would have hoped for you at all…and he’s so crude.” 

That’s exactly what I see in him, you think, the ability to get under your skin. 

“And what would you have hoped for me? Hm?” You press, arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked against the counter. “Some ivy league robot who only cares about your approval? Who I have nothing in common with? Why does it matter?” 

“Oh, well, I–” 

The phone on the wall wails, cutting her off, and a glance at the clock tells you that it must be your aunt calling to say she’s on her way. 

“Saved by the bell,” you mumble as she goes to answer the phone, then spit, “I’ll go change so I don’t embarrass you.”

Back in your room, you decide there’s no point in changing twice, so you pull out the outfit you’d packed for dinner. It’s rather mundane, just a corduroy skirt and an oversized sweater, something you’d normally wear to a family gathering, but the skirt is quite a bit shorter than you’re used to wearing, and instead of the modest tights you would usually pair with this kind of outfit, you opted for some plush over the knee knit socks. 

You take your time getting ready, feeling slightly guilty for leaving Eddie to his own devices downstairs, but he’s a big boy, he can handle himself. You need a few extra moments to cool down and collect yourself before more family shows up. 

There’s a soft rap at your door as you’re finishing up your makeup with a thin layer of lip gloss and you sigh. 

“I’ll be down to help in a minute!” 

Except it isn’t your mom on the other side as you’d expected. Eddie’s voice is gentle when he calls, “It’s me.” 

You let him in with a soft, apologetic smile. “Hi.” 

“Hey,” he smiles, looking appreciatively up and down your form. “I take back what I said earlier. This look is killer, you look great.” 

You brighten, flushing at his praise and taking in his own change of outfit. Nothing fancy by any means, just like you suggested when he asked about dinner attire. The same torn black jeans he wears often, a threadbare and bleach stained Metallica baseball tee, and his signature battle vest overtop. Hair clearly adp purposefully untamed, he’s decked out in his usual accessories. Thick, heavy rings on his fingers and a black bandana stuffed in his pocket, he’s even gone the extra mile and smudged a little eyeliner on his water line. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull it off. 

“Thanks,” you breathe, playing with the cuffs of your sweater absent-mindedly. “You look…disheveled.” 

He laughs at your choice of words, but takes it in stride, doing a quick spin and taking a dramatic bow as you laugh along with him. “Thank you, thank you, I’m only following your expert direction.” 

The neck of your sweater scoops low when you sit on your vanity stool to zip up your boots, slipping off of one shoulder delicately, and Eddie’s gaze burns as it follows the movement. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s staring as he perches himself on the edge of your bed, his lopsided smile only growing when you giggle out a soft, “what?” 

“I have an idea,” he beckons you toward him with a jut of his chin, “come here.” Though you furrow your brow in confusion, you cross the room to stand in front of him. Instantly, his hands reach out to take yours and hold your arms out wide so that he can take another good look at you. You pretend not to notice that his gaze lingers at the bare skin of your thighs on display, then pauses again at your exposed shoulder. He tugs on your hands until you’re even closer, standing between his legs with a curious look in your eye. Hands dropping to your hips, he noses at your neck, breath tickling your delicate skin as he continues,  “you know what might make this outfit even better?” 

“Better?” You question, reaching to tangle your hands in his hair, knowing exactly what he had in mind. “Or just more scandalous?” 

Eddie’s lips ghost against your skin as he says, “darling, who said it can’t be both?” 

It's cruel, you think, as latches onto the soft skin just over your pulse, nipping lightly and then soothing the sting immediately with his tongue. Cruel that this is all an act, that your friend Eddie Munson wouldn’t be adorning you with love bites if it weren’t for this stupid plan to piss off your parents. Cruel that you can’t separate fact from fiction as he sucks a deep bruise into the flesh just above your collarbone and your grip on his hair tightens, an involuntary whimper caught in your throat. 

He pulls back to admire his work, pursing his plush lips with an appreciative hum. One hand leaves your hip to rest on your neck, thumb pressing into one of the fresh bruises there, pride shining on his face when the action makes you shudder. 

There’s no way he doesn’t notice how red you’ve gone but he doesn’t mention it, only smiles brightly and ushers you toward the door with an encouraging, “break a leg down there, kid.” 

Only then do you realize the commotion downstairs. The boisterous voice of your Aunt Ellen as she helps your mom in the kitchen, the sound of thundering footsteps as her kids play tag in the halls they definitely shouldn’t be running in. 

Eddie keeps a tight hold on your hand behind you as he follows you down the stairs, but you’re squeezing his right back, suddenly even more nervous now that some of your extended family has arrived. 

Your heart pounds through greetings, through quick hugs and happy hellos and nervous introductions. It hammers in your chest even harder when Eddie’s hand slips down to rest on your ass as he politely chit-chats with your uncle. This is the plan. This is what you wanted. So why are you so nervous? It doesn’t calm down until some time later, when your cousins convince Eddie to join them outside for a makeshift game of hockey in the iced over driveway. Your dad and uncle sit in the dining room chatting over scotch, while the rest of you return to cooking. 

“So Eddie seems nice,” Aunt Ellen says with a smile while you peel potatoes with her at the kitchen island. There’s no sarcasm in her tone, no ulterior motives. It seems as though she means what she says, and it's a comforting contrast to the harsh words and sideways glances you’ve been getting from your parents. “You two kids meet at school?” 

Outside the window, the hockey game has dissolved into a snowball fight, your younger cousins ganging up on a solo Eddie. You realize you’re staring, zoned out as he easily picks up the youngest to use him as a human shield, unable to stop yourself from smiling as your cousin giggles and brings Eddie down with a smashed snowball right to the face. You can practically hear his dramatics through the window as he mimes a wounded heart and dramatic battlefield death. 

“Kinda,” you hum, shaking yourself from your daydream and smiling back at her softly. “He went to highschool with my roommate, Robin. Their hometown is a lot closer to school than here, so I got to know a lot of her friends pretty early on.” 

You try not to elaborate too much, but your blush betrays you.

“You had it bad, huh?” She teases. 

“I…might have developed a big dumb crush pretty quickly.” Not entirely a lie.

“Well it must have worked out well for you, huh? Seeing as he’s here and all.” 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “Mom and Dad aren’t too thrilled about it.” 

She shrugs, wrinkling her nose at you and leaning in to whisper, “to be honest, this could be good for them. They need to loosen up a little, maybe this’ll push ‘em in the right direction.” 

You snort, “you’re telling me.” 

“You could make it a little easier on them though,” she chuckles, gesturing to her own neck not-so-subtly, “maybe show them his good side before you try to intentionally rile them up.” 

Rolling your eyes, you throw a potato peel at her and shake your head. You had the feeling going into this that if anyone was going to find you out, it would be your aunt. Though much to your relief, she seems to still believe you’re actually together, so maybe you can keep the act going through the rest of the weekend. 

She gets pulled away when her cell phone rings, most likely your Grandma calling to ask your parents address despite the fact that they’ve been hosting thanksgiving here since you were born, and in the blink of an eye her seat is taken by your mom. Her arms are folded on the table in front of her, ignoring the pile of potatoes that still need to be done and eyeballing your own paring knife pointedly until you slow to a hesitant, confused stop. 

“Honestly, young woman, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” She scolds, voice hushed but harsh as ever. 

With a roll of your eyes, you answer, “if I didn’t think you’d kill me I would say you know exactly what’s gotten into me.” 

“Enough!” She looks over her shoulder to ensure that her outburst wasn’t heard and that your aunt is still occupied. God forbid anyone realize she’s experiencing any emotion that’s less than pleasant. “I don’t care how much you care for that boy or how you act at school but right now you are back under our roof and you’ll carry yourself with grace.” 

“But-” 

“No buts.” She hushes to a whisper as your aunt approaches again, “now go put on some makeup or a turtleneck before Grandma gets here or your father notices, because I assure you he would not be nearly as kind as I.” 

“Yeah,” your chair makes an awful screeching sound as it scrapes against the floor as you stand. “Because you’ve been so peachy keen.” 

—

Halfway through Thanksgiving dinner, things are going swimmingly. Eddie seems to get on great with the rest of your family, which somehow only seems to upset your parents even more. He talks music with your uncle when he comments on his tee shirt, and compliments you and your mom on the cooking no less than five times, thanking her profusely for the meal, and chats excitedly with your cousins about DnD when they ask about the tattoo of a D20 on his forearm. They’re all eating up his attention, but your parents only sit in silence, observing. 

It isn’t until your grandma asks him about school that you finally get a reaction out of them. She had unknowingly uncovered the ace up your sleeve without either you or Eddie having to bring it up and you’re downright thrilled to see where this goes. 

You’ll have to thank her later. 

“Oh, uh, no ma’am.” Eddie chuckles. Confidence puffs his chest as he grins knowingly, stealing a peek at your mirrored expression from the corner of his eye. “Wouldn’t you believe it, I’m shit at school?” He pauses for everyone to balk at his bold wording. “Who would’a known, right? I’m the picture of a 4.0. Anyway, to answer your question, I just graduated in June, so I’m taking some time to focus on my band.”

His age had already come up in conversation, so it was only right for your uncle to assume, “oh, well, well school isn’t for everyone. What’s important is that you made it through. What was your degree in?” 

You clear your throat uncomfortably, ducking your head to hide the smile threatening to break out. 

“High school, actually,” Eddie snickers, “took me three senior years, but I did it!” 

Silence takes over the room once again, even shocking your extended family. You could hear a pin drop, and you do hear your dad choke on his turkey. 

Acting oblivious to their shock, you prompt, “tell them about your band, baby.” Giddy smile plastered on your face, you reach out for his hand and address your family again, “they just booked a consistent gig! How exciting is that?” 

“I’d hardly call Tuesday nights at the Hideout exciting, but you gotta start somewhere, right? Plus,” he drops your hand in lieu of resting his on your thigh, his grip warm and familiar. Turning another wily smirk on you he adds, “we’ve got at least one fan who won’t miss a Corroded Coffin show. That’s what counts, right?” 

Leaning across the table to pester you more quietly, your mother hisses, “I thought you had study group on Tuesdays.” 

“I do!” You defend, “we just…meet at the Hideout.” 

In reality you’ve only been to one of Eddie’s shows, the first one at the Hideout that they played as a tryout, and you had a damn good time. But you do have a study group that meets on Tuesdays, regrettably not at the Hideout but in the common area of your dorm building and even more unfortunately, right when Corroded Coffin is about to go on.

 You can’t stop yourself from smiling at their shock. Every little thing he or you say to surprise them makes it a little more amusing. 

Last night their anger felt overbearing, casting a shadow over you, made you feel small. But the more you catch them off guard, the less they say, and the more you want to laugh at the surprise and disgust in their eyes.

Dessert brings pumpkin pie, coffee cake, another round of drinks, and more inquiry from your aunt. She even managed to slip Eddie one of her husband’s beers, much to the disapproving glare of your father.

“Eddie,” she hums, grinning at him over the rim of her wine glass. “Were your ears ringing earlier? We were gossiping about you.” 

“Oh yeah?” He asks, a sly smirk and a raised brow pointed your way.  He leans back in his chair, right hand reaching out to rest once more on your thigh under the table. He tilts his head even further toward you, “all bad things, I hope?” 

“Aunt Ellen was asking how we met,” you smile sweetly, licking away the remnants of cool whip on your dessert fork. 

His eyes darken as they follow the motion and his hand creeps higher, pinky finger stroking at the hem of your skirt absent-mindedly as he speaks. You fight to keep your breath from getting caught in your throat at the cold bite of his rings against your flushed skin. “Oh I see,” he hums, then, his attention snapping back across the table, cutting through the tension you both just created, “did she tell you how she tried to hairspray me to death?” 

“She didn’t,” your grandma exclaims, “please do tell!”

“So I’m planning on meeting my good friend Robin for a nice meal, right? Sounds like a nice evening! Except…”

You try to stay engaged in the conversation, to tell your side of the story, you really do– but the weight of his hand high up on your thigh is distracting. It’s hard to focus on much else, especially when he kneads gently in time with his elaborate storytelling, his thumb caressing the rolled hem of your thigh-high socks and stroking the skin just above it. 

Why, you can’t help but think. You’re the only ones seated on this side of the table, and sheltered from view by the tablecloth. There should be no reason for him to be touching you like this when there’s nobody to see it happening. You wonder if he knows there’s no point, but then his hand creeps even higher and his fingertips slip under the edge of your skirt and into the crease where your thighs press together. This time you can’t stop the stutter in your breath and he notices, smiling at you wickedly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He knows it’s affecting you, and even worse he’s trying to get a reaction out of you. 

But he just keeps on talking, stealing the show.  

The story of how you met melts easily into the previously fabricated story of your first date, and so on. The stories just keep flowing. That’s the thing about Eddie, he could be reading you the instruction manual for a toaster, but the way that he tells stories is captivating. The way he speaks of your first date, and then of your first anniversary (something you hadn’t discussed on the drive, but damn it if he wasn’t quick on the draw with it) has your family on the edge of their seats. Your aunt listens with glee, but your parents are horrified at the thought of him taking you to a dive bar for dinner or staying overnight in your dorm. Whether they like it or not, he knows how to command a room. 

When things start winding down, after goodbyes are said to your Grandma, you’re rescued from having to do the dishes when your cousins talk you into a game of Monopoly. Eddie picks your favorite piece, but relents quickly when you send him a pout and opts for the thimble instead. 

“So what are you, a $100 on Free Parking family, all taxes on Free Parking family, or a boring family?” Eddie asks, digging out the loose bills in disarray at the bottom of the box.

“Better,” you hum, “you boys know where the stash is, d’you mind?” 

Your cousins laugh, the eldest pulling a bag of halloween candy out from under the coffee table you sit around. “Already on it, cuz.” 

Watching as he dumps a few pieces into the middle of the board, you grin. “Perfect.” 

—

After a rousing game (where Eddie absolutely made fun of your candy pot right up until he landed on Free Parking and won it), your extended family starts to pack up to make the hour’s drive home. You say your goodbyes, Aunt Ellen whispering a reminder to go easy on your parents into your ear when she hugs you tightly. Eddie high fives your cousins as they pass, and shoots them a devil horn gesture as they make their way to the car. You swear you hear your dad mumble under his breath about him corrupting them, but bite your tongue. 

You barely made it back to the den to start cleaning up the board game when the knock comes at the door – their car won’t start. It’s cold and it’s dark and without hesitation your mom offers them shelter for the night. 

“The boys will have to sleep on the pull out in the den,” she muses quietly, thinking out loud. “It’s not much but they’ll be comfy there. Ellen, you guys can take the guest room.” You crack a smile as she keeps talking, mentions that your dad and uncle can take a look at the car when they’ve had a good night’s sleep and the sun is up, and Eddie catches your eye with a mirroring grin. 

“I’d be happy to look,” he offers, drawing both your parents’ attention. They’d forgotten about him in their plan. “I’m no professional, but my uncle and I have lifted parts from enough junkers to know my way around an engine.” 

Your mom looks between you and the boy next to you, brow drawn together in concern. “Oh, I’m not sure that’s the best–” 

Cutting her off, you rest your hand on Eddie’s elbow and smile saccharine, “that’s so kind of you, Eds, thank you.” 

He knocks your hand from his arm in favor of wrapping it around your shoulders, curling your body into his side and kissing your temple with a loud smack! His grin is downright smug when he says, “looks like I’ll be bunking with you after all, huh, Princess?” 

“Lucky me,” you mumble, turning away quickly to hide the rapidly forming flush in your cheeks. “Um, hey, can you help my dad with the pullout? It sticks. I’ll go change the sheets in the guest room.” 

“You got it, baby,” he smiles good-naturedly. “Where can I help, Dad?” 

As you walk away, you can hear the exasperation in your father’s voice as he informs the boy that it would be in his best interest to call him Mr. or Sir, and you can’t help but giggle at the stuttering response Eddie gives. 

You’ve tossed Eddie’s bags into your own room and stripped the sheets from the guest bed by the time your mom meets you in the guest room with fresh sheets. You quietly make the bed together until she speaks up. 

“I’m sure you find yourself so lucky to have gotten what you want,” she muses, tucking in the top sheet on her side of the bed a little more harshly than necessary. “But under no circumstances does this mean you can take advantage of my kindness. I was not about to let our family go without a place to stay for the night so you may have found yourself sharing a room but I expect no funny business.” So casual in her cruelty, she emphasizes where she needs to but otherwise her voice is calm. 

“Right,” you snort, “because the mood is so perfect with my parents down the hall and aunt and uncle in the next room.” 

“I’m only saying, that boy is changing you. You’re acting so differently since you brought him ‘round and I-” 

You cut her off, throwing the pillow you just put a new sham on back onto the bed violently. “I care about that boy,” throwing air quotes when you repeat her words, “and if I’ve changed, it’s only because he showed me what it’s like to be cared for in return!” The words flow from you freely, without much thought. You’re reacting with what you know will hurt right back, but you’re also speaking from the heart. Even just being friends with not only Eddie, but Robin and Steve as well, has built your confidence and taught you plenty about love and support, even if it was just platonic. 

Her voice drips with condescension when she replies, “Honey. Do you truly think a boy like that has good intentions with a girl like you? He drinks, he smokes, he’s skipping college and doesn’t have a job because he’s in a rock band for Pete’s sake. I’m just worried about you. Guys like that only want one thing.” 

With your back to the door you don’t notice Eddie approaching, and he hovers just outside the door and out of your mom’s view. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but he could hear your shouting match from downstairs, and he wanted to be close by if you needed a comforting word or pep talk.  

“What’s that, Mom?” You argue, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Sex? Who’s to say we haven’t gone there already? And what could you do to stop us from fucking all night tonight? We’re both adults. We could go at it for hours, under your roof, right down the hall from you and technically all you can do about it is kick us out. Oh well!! We’ve got a car and a couple hundred bucks between the two of us, we could swing a motel for the night. The point is, it could happen anywhere, so wouldn’t you rather know that I’m safe at home and not sharing a wall with drug addicts and prostitutes down at the Motel 6?”

She’s silent for a long moment, both of you unmoving and staring angrily at each other. 

“...You’re not actually going to have–”

“OF COURSE I’M NOT, Mother,” you groan, “and do you think I would tell you if I was!? God, I knew bringing him here was a mistake. Don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning. I’m not going to bother staying the rest of the weekend in a house that makes me and my boyfriend feel unwelcome.” 

Suddenly very reminiscent of your high school days, you stomp away with an exasperated groan, brushing past Eddie in a fury and you couldn’t even begin to care in the moment to ask how much he’d overheard. You were hot in more than one sense of the word, livid at your mother’s attack, blood boiling at the fact that even she – who has always been more lenient and quick to defend against your father – could think so lowly of Eddie without even giving him a chance. You know that’s the point. You know you brought him here specifically to get a rise out of them, but God, this was so much worse than the stunned silence and speechless stuttering you were expecting. 

With every step closer to your room, the need to get out of this damn outfit gets stronger. Despite your aggravation, every brush of your skirt against your thighs brings your mind back to dinner and Eddie’s curious touch, the gentle squeeze as his fingertips brushed at the crease of your crossed legs, the casual nonchalance as he kept talking even though he knew exactly what he was doing. 

It's annoying, really, how easily he infiltrates your thoughts and without even trying distracts you from your rage. Only, now he’s all you can think of as you slam the bedroom door and rifle through your suitcase. By the time you start the shower, you’ve moved past wondering why he was touching you like that when it didn’t benefit the plan, and when you strip down and step under the steaming spray you’re more than curious how far he’s willing to take this. You have to admit after shouting about how much sex you were going to have with him tonight, you’re starting to wonder how much of a possibility it could be.

Would he actually touch you? Let you touch him? He was eager to paint your skin with possessive marks earlier. Was he just that committed to the bit, or did he really just want to? 

Would it be so bad if he did? 

As much as you want to draw this shower out, slow, careful caresses of your skin as you touch yourself the way you imagine a certain guitarist might, you decide it’s not the best idea with a houseful of family. Soon enough you’re toweling off and feeling less angry than before, though no less frustrated. 

When you make it back to your room, there’s an open copy of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons and a weathered journal laid out on your bed, suggesting that Eddie had been hiding out there, however he’s nowhere to be found. You manage to get your hair most of the way dried by the time he comes back in, the faint scent of smoke and fresh snow billowing behind in his wake. The stick of a lollipop he won in your game of Monopoly earlier juts out from between his lips. 

Smiling softly in greeting, you expect him to beeline back to his notes, but to your surprise he turns your way and leans one hand on your vanity. The other comes to rest under your chin, urging you to look up at him. He smiles back, bigger, encouraging. His lips are tinted pink from the candy and he even nods a little when your own smile grows, as if he could tell that your first wasn’t that genuine. 

“Y’okay?” He murmurs, thumb stroking absently at the sharp of your jawline. “It’s been fun messing with them, but that screaming match must’ve been a lot.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble, “I’ll get over it, but are you okay? You were the one she was insulting.” 

He waves off your comment casually, a wrinkle in his nose and the hint of a laugh in his voice. “I’ve been called worse, and in her defense, we are trying to make me look bad.”

“I guess, but I still didn’t like hearing her speak about you like that,” you chuckle and stand, scooting the stool back in order to wrap him in a hug. After a brief pause, you mumble into his neck, “... and thank you. For checking in.” 

Eddie’s hands squeeze where he holds your hips fondly, and he pulls away from your embrace just enough to get a good look at your face. His eyes shine beneath his furrowed brow, impossibly deep brown in the low light of your room, they search your face for any hint of distress, and when he’s confident you’re telling the truth, only then does his gaze land on your lips. You swallow thickly, blink slowly, try to convince yourself you’re making this up. He pulls the lollipop from his mouth, slurping obscenely as he does.  There’s nobody around! He has nothing to prove! So then why is he leaning in? Why do you let him, and lean up onto your toes to close the gap? 

Quiet takes over the room as Eddie’s eyes fall shut, followed quickly by your own. You gasp gently, but lean into his kiss eagerly, the hand around his shoulder reaching up to tangle in the mess of curls at the base of his neck. His lips meld with yours, working you over in a deep and tender kiss that makes your stomach flip. It’s soft. Familiar in a way you wouldn’t expect. 

It might be your favorite one yet. 

He tastes distinctly of cherry and leftover tobacco, lips sticky with sugar and oh, so delicious. 

When he breaks the kiss he doesn’t go far, lips traveling to press sweetly at your temple for a fleeting moment. 

“What was that for?” You ask, breathless. “There’s nobody else around?” 

Eddie hums, “maybe I just felt like it.” Taking in your choice of pajamas, he grins even wider, “kinda like you just felt like wearing my Sabbath shirt again, I’m sure. Did you mean what you said back there?” 

Stalling, you pluck the candy from between his fingers and take a moment to savor it. Sure, it’s a little bit of a tease, the way your tongue darts out to lick it salaciously before taking the whole thing in your mouth with a soft hum, but it’s payback for both times he’d gotten you worked up earlier today. By the look on his face, payback is a bitch. 

“How much did you overhear?” 

“Oh, you know…” his hand trails up the length of your forearm, enveloping your own, only to take the sucker back from you and toss it into the bin, forgotten already. “Just the part about us going at it for hours.” Hands on either side of your face, he crouches until he’s fully in your space, lips just a hair away from your own. “How it was going to happen no matter what.” You feel his smirk more than you actually see it, and your breath gets caught in your throat. His hair curtains around you, tickling at your neck and shoulders.This can’t actually be happening – right? His thumb drags lightly at your bottom lip, “that we were gonna fuck all night?” 

“I– I didn’t know you were there.” You stutter out, afraid to admit anything more than that. 

“...Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” 

You don’t. Instead, you find yourself falling forward, colliding once more in a clumsy kiss. You stand slowly so that he doesn’t have to crouch, never once letting your lips leave his. It’s an intoxicating contrast to the last kiss, all bruising pressure and teeth and tongue and desperation. He licks into your mouth without asking permission, though you would have given it freely anyway, and his hands creep downward on your body, caressing your waist and falling to rest on the swell of your hips, squeezing gently. When you surge up onto your tiptoes to kiss him deeper, he notices the wobble in your legs and shifts, hooking his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting you to rest on the edge of your vanity. You gasp in surprise at his boldness, at the strength you didn’t know he possessed, and break the kiss in the process. 

“You know, I was hoping you weren’t all talk,” he beams with pride, taking in the sight of your bite swollen lips and chest heaving with ragged breath. Placing a hand on either side of your hips, his head drops to mouth hungrily at your neck, giving the same attention to the opposite side he had earlier, pulling at the neck of your stolen tee-shirt to suck another bruise into your collarbone. In between passes of his tongue and nips at your sensitive skin, he keeps talking. Eddie Munson does not know when to shut up, not even now. “Been wanting to get my hands on you since we met,” he mumbles into the hollow of your throat, you can feel another smile pressed to the skin there, “somethin’ about being threatened by a sweet little thing like you…” working his way back up to find your lips, he basks in the small noises coming from the back of your throat. ��...really does it for a guy.” 

“Oh yeah?” You tease, hooking a finger in the collar of his shirt and tugging, but before you can continue the thought, the vanity beneath you gives an awful creaking sound under your combined weight. Giggling, near mortified, you bite your lip and shift your eyes toward the bed, “you wanna…?” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he jokes in return, helping you down from your perch and crossing the room. He shuffles up toward the headboard, pulling an old teddy bear from under him when he leans up against it and raises his brow at you. 

Taking the stuffie from his hands to throw it across the room with a soft glare, you settle into his lap comfortably, one knee on either side of his hips. His hands land on your own hips and pull you closer to him roughly with a soft, amused huff. He kisses you like it's his last chance, hands firm on your hips holding you in place where you can feel his cock, half hard with interest pressing against you. 

You kiss him for what seems like hours. For all you’re concerned it could have been. Eddie consumes you, the scent of smoke and leather engulfing you and invading your senses. It’s a scent so perfectly Eddie, with a little sweetness and a little bit of something dark, just like how he kisses. Sweet pecks and soft caresses of his lips against your jawline immediately followed by lewd, wet passes of his tongue and sharp, stinging bites. He kisses hard and messy, unabashed, fingers squeezing at the meat of your ass and pulling your hips harder into his.

This time when he kisses down your neck, he doesn’t stop at your neckline. He pulls at the shirt collar, carelessly stretching it past the point of no return in favor of uncovering more and more of your unexplored skin. Cold fingers prod at the skin of your lower back, making you squeal and grind harder against him, heat pooling in your center. 

Your position is making you hyper aware of just how wet you are, your panties sticking to your lower lips with it as you rut against his clothed length. Your hand stays firm on the back of his neck, nervous and unsure how far to take this, but Eddie clearly knows what he wants, his own hands exploring. Not an inch of your body goes unnoticed as he caresses you, light fleeting touches here and there followed by rough, possessive hands, kneading at your curves hungrily. He’s taking his time learning what makes you tick. Thumbs brush featherlight over pebbled nipples through the worn material of your shirt, drawing another breathy moan from your lips. Though he grins in satisfaction, looking up at you with a mix of admiration and provocation. 

“Careful,” he murmurs, gaze falling on your chest as he seeks out the hardened buds again and pinching, cocky smile only growing at the responding whine you let out. “Don’t want anyone to hear you, pretty thing. Or did you forget where we were?” 

Not one to go without a fight, you grip his jaw and turn his face back up toward yours, “shut up and put your mouth to good use, baby.” 

He smirks at the pet name, capturing your lips once more and turning you both until you’re laying back against the mattress. Eddie hovers over you, staring, eyes raking over you briefly before he makes his way down your body, stopping at the waist of your sleep pants with a happy hum. He traces the elastic teasingly before hooking in and pulling them down, tossing them out of the way carelessly. You press your thighs together when he does, and he tuts disapprovingly, thumb caressing the crease between your thigh and hip. 

“Aw, sweetheart, you’re not gettin’ shy on me now, are you?” He teases, gently coaxing your legs back open, chilled air hitting the damp cotton and making you shudder. Lowering himself so that he’s eye level with your clothed cunt, he smirks, “that’s what I thought.” 

You expect him to rid you of that layer as well, but he doesn’t, not yet. Instead, he noses at the growing wet spot, inhaling deeply and giving a dramatic, gleeful sigh. He’s not so cruel to keep teasing you though, quickly mouthing at your pussy through the thin material of your panties. The added friction is unbearable, pleasure settling low in your belly as he licks broadly at the wet spot with a low groan, pointed tongue finding your clit surprisingly quickly. Pulling back briefly, he admires the way that the material clings to you, now wet with your slick and his saliva, the soaked cotton hides nothing. He murmurs something about “isn’t this a pretty picture?” and reaches out to touch you, fingers stroking over your clothed cunt in a rough drag, but the way your blood is rushing in your ears you barely hear him. 

When he finally peels the ruined panties off of you, you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him between your legs. His hair’s a mess, disheveled by your hands running through it, bangs pushed back from his forehead from his efforts. His lips are kiss swollen and red from the cherry candy, pulled back tight over an eager grin. He licks his lips, eyes glittering as he stares down at you, utterly enraptured. He looks at you as though you were his last meal, like you were the most delectable treat, and it makes your stomach flip.

He dives back in, tongue gliding between your lips easily and circling your clit once, teasingly, before retreating back down to your entrance. With a huff and a repressed squeal, you drop back onto the bed, hand flying to tangle in his hair as he tongues at your hole eagerly. Nose bumping your clit with his efforts, he laps at your juices until you’re whining for it, a weak little “please,” falling from your lips. Any other day he would tease you. A quipped please what, what do you need? But he senses your desperation and relents. 

“So wet, sweet thing,” he chides, reaching out to drag two fingers through your dripping folds and pushing them into you without warning, forcing the air from your lungs. You bite your lip in an effort to keep quiet, only letting out the softest whimper when his thumb joins in, rubbing at your clit lazily. “Tell me, are you always this eager?” 

“When some asshole’s been teasing me since dinner, yeah,” you quip, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your embarrassment. 

“Oh, I’m an asshole?” Eddie asks, scissoring his fingers and leaning down to lap at your nub, suckling lightly until your thighs tremble and your pussy clenches down on his fingers. “Do you even know what you were doing to me at dinner?” His pace quickens, fingers drawing obscene, wet sounds from your cunt as he pumps them faster. Resting his head on your thigh to watch as his fingers disappear in and out of your dripping entrance, he continues, “The way you were lickin’ that fork clean after dessert should be illegal. Had me wonderin’ what else you could do with that tongue, I just had to level the playing field.” 

He strokes at that spot deep inside you right as his lips wrap around your clit once more and you swallow a groan. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whimper, hips moving on their own accord, canting down to meet his eager ministrations. “Right there.”

He almost sounds pitiful as he coos, “I know, baby, I know.” 

He continues to work at your g-spot, languid, repetitive strokes that bring you closer and closer to the edge each time. Pressure builds in your pelvis, an unmistakable ache in your limbs as you tense up. He can tell you’re close, the fluttering of your walls around him and thighs caging his head in firmly. If he minds, he doesn’t let on, only doubling his efforts and adding a third finger as he thrusts back in. You’re getting close, but words are hard to find when he’s smiling so pretty at you and those long, thick fingers stroking deep within you with a come-hither motion. 

“Eddie, I’m– fuck, you gotta–” 

“That's it, Princess,” he encourages, leaning back on his heels to get a good look at you. Your whole body flushed, his tee shirt rucked up on your chest, your fingers curled in the bedspread beneath you. With his fingers still buried inside you, he reaches out with the other hand to abuse your clit, quick, messy back and forth motions that are absolutely maddening, just on the edge of too much. “C’mon, sweet thing, come for me.” 

There’s nothing you can do to stop your body from obliging, bearing down as your orgasm rips through you, your release coming from you in waves, splashing over his hands and the bedsheets between you. Your fingers go numb as you white-knuckle the bedspread, toes curling and mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he works you through your orgasm. 

Though he gives your oversensitive clit a much needed break, to your dismay, he doesn’t let up on fucking his fingers into you, gazing down at the mess you made in awe, a lopsided grin on his face. “You didn’t tell me you're a super soaker, sweetheart. What a pleasant surprise.” 

“I–” you try to interject but gasp at his unrelenting fingers. “I’m not usually.” 

“Oh?” 

You’re too embarrassed to admit it again, so you only shake your head, flushing even deeper under his scrutinizing stare. It’s all too much, you’re oversensitive and spent already but god that doesn’t mean you don’t want more. 

“Please,” you start, reaching for his wrist to still his motions. You aren’t above pouting when you say, “let me return the favor.” 

“Uh-uh, sweetheart,” his grin is downright evil, “not yet…I wanna see you do that again.” 

You weren’t sure that was possible. Hell, until a few moments ago you didn’t even know you could squirt at all, let alone twice in a row. But he’s determined, and he’s already kept you teetering on the edge since your first orgasm, so it doesn’t take much. He speeds up again, hand curling to cup your cunt with his efforts, and the slick slip-slide of your previous release gives him the perfect traction to continue the onslaught of attention to your overstimulated clit. Your hips can't decide whether they want to twitch away from the attention or grind down into it, ultimately going with the latter, much to Eddie’s satisfaction.

Ducking his head, he sinks his teeth into the swell of your inner thigh, relishing in the way the pain makes you clench around him yet again. 

“You got another one in you,” he encourages, “I know it.”  

And he’s right.

The coil in your belly has been threatening to snap as soon as the last orgasm dissipated, his constant attention on your g-spot enough to send you over the edge again, but it’s not until his lips latch onto your clit one more time, the delicious drag of stubble against your inner thighs a whole new sensation, that you let loose. Gripping onto fistfuls of his curls again, you take note of the wild growl the action draws from him as you spill onto his tongue, your release puddling under you and soaking into the sheets. 

“Shit, Eddie, stop, I–” You pull at his hair lightly to get his attention, “s’too sensitive.” 

Despite your complaint, he grins happily and crawls back up your body, taking the hem of your shirt with him and pulling your last bit of clothing off of your body before capturing your lips in a deep, languid kiss. The distinct taste of Eddie, of tobacco and sugar and your own release is intoxicating, and you sloppily make out with him until you can no longer taste yourself on his tongue. You can’t help but giggle as you pull away. 

“You still with me?” He asks gently, damp fingers brushing through your hair, though you have no energy to care about the mess. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, “just needed a second.” Reaching down to palm at the achingly hard bulge in his pants, savoring the moan he swallows, you tease, “I feel a little underdressed, here.” 

“By all means,” he hums, turning to fall on his back beside you, a cocky smile dancing on his features, “be my guest.” 

You follow suit, sitting up to straddle his lap again, lifting the hem of his shirt up and over his head. Peppering his skin with the same attention he showed you, you take your time nipping and sucking and adoring his newly exposed skin, appreciating your favorite mark (an angry looking, deep purple bruise forming just above his demon head tattoo) with a bitten lip and smug smile. He looks ruined and you haven’t even touched him yet, not really, and you take pride in the way his head lolls against the headboard, eyes heavy-lidded and crinkled from his smile,  pupils blown as he watches your every move. As you rake your nails down his chest (an act that pulls yet another deep growl from within his chest), you cant your hips down against his. The drag of denim against your bare pussy is almost too much, on the brink of both pleasure and pain in your overstimulation, and the way that it makes you shudder has his cock twitching with interest. 

Scooting down his legs, you lay between them lazily, twirling your finger around the button of his pants and savoring the impatient noises he’s clearly trying to hold back. You decide he’s been too kind to you already to deserve anymore teasing, so you make quick work of unzipping his jeans and freeing his aching member. He helps you shuffle them, along with his underwear, down his legs and as soon as you get a good look, your mouth starts to water. Flushed at the tip and weeping, it’s the most enticing thing you’ve ever seen. 

Leaning in to catch the bead of precum on your tongue, you moan at the earthy taste and let your eyes fall shut. Eddie swears above you and that only eggs you on, reaching out to take his length in one hand, you give it a long, broad lick from base to tip and around the head before taking it into your mouth, reminiscent of the way you’d enjoyed his lollipop earlier. (If you’re being honest, you much prefer this to candy). 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he groans, leaning up on one elbow to get a good look at you and burying his free hand in your hair. “Just like that–look so perfect like this.” 

He babbles as you suck him off, an incoherent string of desperate phrases that all circle back to one common theme – how good you look with his dick in your mouth. His praise goes straight to your throbbing core, more slick dribbling from you with every word. You find yourself clenching down on nothing, feeling suddenly empty without Eddie’s thick fingers there.

You pull off of him with a satisfying pop, beaming with pride as your hand works him over in your absence. 

“Do you ever shut up?” You tease, cupping his balls lightly with your free hand before ducking to take one into your mouth. 

He chokes out his response, “not often,” sighing as you take him back into your mouth, your tongue running over the thick vein that runs up the underside of his shaft. “But you’re gettin’ close… Get up here.” 

Pulling you off of him by the hair, he urges you back up the length of the bed. Propped up against your mess of pillows at your headboard, he pulls you back to hover over his lap and drags the head of his cock through your wet folds teasingly. Capturing your lips again, he licks hot into your mouth, positioning your hips square over his waiting member, but leaving it up to you to seal the deal. 

You sink down onto him slowly, inch by thick, delicious inch, savoring the stretch and the slight burn that comes with it. Even with proper preparation, he’s big, and fills you to the brim when you finally settle into his lap, his cock fully sheathed inside you. 

Drawing a shaky breath, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his, all sweaty bangs and shared breaths. He gives you a moment, pressing a gentle kiss high on your cheekbone and lingering there until you thread your fingers into his hair again and give an experimental roll of your hips. Both of you share a groan, breathing each other in as you slowly start to move. 

It's like a dance; you push, he pulls, moving together like you’ve rehearsed this a million times. You feel impossibly full as you bounce on his cock, lewd, wet sounds coming from where you’re joined, and the pressure builds in your stomach once again. 

Eddie’s hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements and holding you in place to fuck up into you without restriction. Unable to hold back, an involuntary moan tumbles from your lips and you fall forward, biting into the crook of his neck to stop yourself from making any more noise. He hisses at the sting and his hips stutter, but if he’s more affected than that he doesn’t show it. His hips continue to piston up into you, his cock forcing tiny little hiccuping noises from your throat as you clamp your eyes shut. 

“Yeah baby,” he encourages, pulling your hips down for a particularly harsh drag, the wiry hair at the base of his cock tickling at your clit from the force of it. “Y’can’t stay quiet, can you? Even now?” Reaching between you, he circles your still sensitive nub with his middle finger, kissing you to swallow the sounds you make as he spreads two fingers over your puffy lips, prodding at the taut, stretched hole where he thrusts up into you.  “Christ, if you sound this fuckin’ pretty when you’re trying to keep quiet I can’t wait to hear you when you aren’t holding back.” He speaks low in your ear, his voice impossibly deep and his words go straight to your core, zapping like static over your skin. “You’d like that, huh?” He prompts, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth, “wanna make you scream my name.” 

You lift your head to kiss him, if only to shut him up, and whimper into his mouth, eyes screwed shut, but give him what he wants with a soft whine of “Eddie,” against his full lips. 

“I guess whining will do for now. Look at you, messy thing,” he’s unrelenting on your clit now, swift, circular motions made jagged by his stuttering thrusts. He’s just as close as you are, if his jerking motions and labored breathing tell you anything. “You gonna come on my cock? C’mon sweet thing, I wanna feel you.” 

“I don’t– I can’t, ‘s too much,” you babble, lost in the way his cock drags over your inner walls and the insistent swiping of his fingers at your clit. It’s so good but it’s all too much, and you’re certain if you have another orgasm, it’ll be the end of you. 

The hand that isn’t buried in your cunt comes up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him as he says, “sure you can, baby, c’mon,” then after a surprisingly tender kiss pressed into your lips, he demands through lidded eyes, “come for me, princess.” 

Even if you didn’t want to, your body obeys, the pleasure licking up from your core and spreading through your limbs like fire. Your skin burns, your cunt spasming with the force of it, and when you force your eyes shut, forehead pressed against Eddie’s in exhaustion, you swear a tear leaks out. 

He groans, the fluttering of your walls triggering his own release, pulling you into a hard, toothy kiss to dampen the sound he makes. He pulls out just in time, splattering your stomach with his seed and already you’re mourning the loss, feeling impossibly empty but sated nonetheless. 

Your mouths hang open against one another, sharing damp, hot breaths for a few moments as you come down from your high. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, rolling off of his lap to lay beside him, a delighted little chuckle falling from your lips. 

“My sentiments exactly,” he muses, turning on his side to brush the mess of your hair behind your ear. With a kiss to your temple and a soft, “wait here,” he rolls away, pulling on the first pair of pants he can find (which just so happens to be your pink snowflake pajama pants) and looks both ways before stepping out of your room and toward the bathroom. 

As you wait for him to return, you can’t help but return to your thoughts from earlier. 

Would he touch you? 

Yes. 

Would you really mind if he wanted to?

Fuck no. 

What does this mean for your friendship? 

Fuck off, don’t worry about that right now. Enjoy the moment. 

Soon he’s back with a warm washcloth that he uses to gently clean you up, taking care around your sore, red center, and then mops up his spend with a surprisingly delicate touch. In the other hand he has another fresh set of sheets, which he holds up with a snarky smile. 

“When your legs work again we can change these out,” he teases, “seeing as you ruined the ones on there now.”

Running a hand down your face, you blush. Even after everything, you blush at his remarks. “Shut up.” Giggling, you hop down from the bed and pull on his discarded boxers and the now stretched out Black Sabbath shirt before helping him change the sheets. 

In the end, you decide that it’s not worth it to finish out the weekend at home and set an alarm to get up before any of your family. It’s far too early for either of your liking, but it’s a necessary evil. 

When the car is loaded up and you drop into the passenger seat, it feels natural when Eddie’s large hand lands on your thigh. The sun is just starting to rise in the rear view mirror, and you’re eager to get a move on, but not before properly thanking him. 

Leaning over the center console, you press a kiss to his cheek, then again to his lips when he turns to meet your affection. You sigh, a dumb smile plastered on your face as you breathe your first full breath all weekend. “Thank you, Eds.” 

“Hey,” he chuckles, squeezing your thigh happily, “I’ll help you piss off your parents any day.” One more longing kiss, his lips sliding against yours without urgency, without anything to prove, just an exchange of affection between two maybe-more-than-friends who don’t have any roles to play anymore. He bites your lip as he pulls away, winking, and throwing the car into drive. As he drives away he laughs again, fixing you with an adoring stare. “My little showstopper.”

[milf-murdock]

Unsteady (Simon x Johnny x Reader)

Request: Simon and Johnny taking care of F!Reader

Summary: Simon and Johnny take care of you after you almost pass out at the pub.

TW: heavily implied disordered eating, almost passing out, mental health concerns, medication mentions (nothing specific but could be read as ADHD medication side effects).

A/N: Hi anon! Thank you so much for your request and your kind words! I'm choosing not to publish the ask because I think there are some triggering words that I won't be able to hide under a "read more" line, but I hope that you enjoy this and find some comfort in it.

As someone who has also struggled with EDs in the past, please, please, please do not be afraid to ask for help. There is nothing glamorous about eating disorders. They absolutely need to be taken seriously.

Instead of going the full ED route with this one shot, I took it down a slightly softer path and based it off of my experience with ADHD and how it has led to me accidentally missing meals.

The din of the pub faded into the background as you sat in the corner booth of your favorite pub. You were pressed up against Simon’s bulky frame, one of his strong arms wrapped around your body, keeping you tucked in close. Johnny sat across the booth, taking in his favorite view: you wrapped up in Simon—his two loves, his whole world sat right across the table from him. 

Your empty glass clinked against the others as your set it on the table. “Looks like we’re ready for another round,” you said, smiling up at Johnny. 

“Mm, that it does,” Johnny smiled back at you, and you felt like you could absolutely drown in those ocean eyes. 

“You tryna get us drunk or something, love?” Simon teased, lips pressing against your collarbone. 

“Something like that,” you laughed, turning your head meet his lips for a quick kiss. “Here, I’ll go, order them” you reasoned, being on the outside of the seat and closest to the bar. “Be right back.” You pushed yourself from the booth to your feet, and instantly the entire room started spinning.  Damn, you thought to yourself. That beer is hitting fast. You went to take one tentative step, and then the room started to tilt, the floor coming up at you fast. 

Johnny was out of his seat in an instant, having picked up immediately something was wrong from the moment you stood up. His two large hands reached out to steady you, catching you in his arms. “Easy now,” he grunted,  bracing you both. “I’ve got ye.” He gently lowered you back into the booth, letting your weak form lean up against Simon. Simon’s hands instantly held you against him, supporting you. At the edge of the booth, Johnny got down on one knee so he could be eye level with you. 

“Look at me, hen,” he coaxed. “What’re you feeling?” Johnny grabbed one of the ice waters from the table and gingerly helped bring it to your lips. 

You blinked, trying to get your bearings. The room finally stopped spinning. “M’fine,” you mumble before taking a sip of the water Johnny offered you. The icy cold liquid helped clear your mind. “Just got a bit dizzy.”

Johnny and Simon exchanged knowing glances. 

“What’ve ye had to eat today, lass?” Johnny’s voice was gentle, prodding, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to the concern and hurt he was feeling, already knowing the answer. 

“Umm, I’m not really sure,” you stepped around the question, your voice hesitant. “I think I had a banana this morning?” 

Simon let out a resigned sigh. “I’m assuming that would be half of a banana,” he corrected. “Considering I found the remaining half still in the peel on top of the dresser.”   

You eyelids fluttered shut, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh.” You let out. “Yeah, I went in there to grab one of your jumpers and I must have forgotten it.” 

It happened all the time, you getting distracted mid task. It had gotten even worse since one of the side effects of your medication was a suppressed appetite. You never did have quite a good relationship with food to begin with though. 

“And what about lunch?” Johnny continued his prodding. 

You bit your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours. Wincing, you reply with a mumbled “forgot.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as shame flooded through you. 

At this, both men let out a sigh, completely in synch when it comes to their concern for you. 

“Love, we’ve been over this,” Simon started before being cut off. 

“M’sorry.” Despite your best efforts, a couple tears started to slide down your face. 

Johnny pulls you into his arms. “S’okay, Bonnie,” he soothed, running a hand up and down your back. 

“S’not okay, Johnny,” Simon snapped from the other side of you. “She needs to be eating.” 

Johnny shot Simon a glare. “I know that, Si.” He took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple, your head buried against his chest. “He’s right though, bonnie. Ye need to be eating.” 

His hand slid up to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I know,” you whined, fidgeting under his piercing gaze. 

Simon scooted closer across the booth, a strong hand coming to rest against your back. 

“We just need to know you’re taken care of, love,” Simon began to rub his hand in a soothing circle. “Specially knowing we can’t always be here to take care of you ourselves.” 

“I know,” you sighed, feeling yourself shutting down. 

Simon and Johnny exchange another glance, Simon giving a short nod of approval signaling to back off for now. 

“Just promise us you’ll try,” Johnny pleaded. “For us. Please?”

You nod, sniffling. 

“I promise,” you sighed softly. “I’ll try harder.”

Johnny gave you a crooked smile, a favorite of yours. “Atta girl.” 

Simon pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “Now let’s go get some dinner, love. How’s that sound?” 

“It sounds…” you trailed off.  “Well, I don’t really feel that well.” 

Simon nodded his head knowingly. “Well that’s cause you’ve hardly eaten today.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Probably.” 

“Something easy then,” Johnny stated matter of factly. “Perfect weather for soup. Think you can manage that, dove?” 

You gave a small nod and let Johnny transfer you over to Simon’s strong arms. 

“Aye, good lass,” he gave you a quick peck. “Si, get our girl home and I’l go pick it up.” 

“Affirmative,” Simon agreed, giving your hip a quick tap to encourage you to try to get on your feet again. 

Johnny stood up and offered you a hand to help you up, Simon’s hands never leaving your hips until they were both certain you weren’t in danger of passing out on them.  

“I’ll see you both at home,” Johnny quipped, giving both you and Simon a quick kiss on the cheek before going to pay the tab. 

Simon helped you shrug into your coat and the two of you made your way out to the brisk Manchester air. 

An hour later, empty takeaway containers littered the coffee table in the living room as you laid on the couch with your loves. You were pressed up against Simon, leaning up against him, tucked under his arm. Your legs were sprawled out across Johnny’s lap, his calloused hands giving you the most delightful foot massage. 

“Y’know we love you, right?” Johnny’s voice broke the silence that had settled over the three of you. 

“I know,” your voice was low. 

“We just worry about you, love,” Simon urged, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. 

“I promise I’ll try to be better.” You sighed softly. “I love you both so much.” 

“We love you too, lass.” Johnny leaned forward to give you a kiss. 

“So much,” Simon finished, pressing another kiss to your exposed neck. 

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 3

a/n: omg thanks again for all the love on the last two parts! i'm probably going to make a masterlist to make all the parts more accessible <3 i feel so special when i see y'all's comments so don't be afraid to share your thoughts! this chapter is a little shorter but only because that's just how the events are playing out! btw, this one starts out with a flashback, it can be a lil confusing hehe but anyways enjoy! (also none of these are proofread LMAO so ignore mistakes)

part 1, part 2, part 4

word count: 3.0k words

warnings: ANGSTTT, language, drugs, alcohol, smoking

It was finally time to depart from your first summer at Saltburn. School was going to start in a week, and you wanted to spend some time relaxing at home before the chaos of your penultimate year in secondary school. 

The summer had been a wild yet fun time. You had so much freedom to do whatever you pleased, and you didn’t really know how to spend your time, since you were usually so focused on your academics.

You warmed up to the Catton family quite a lot. You understood you didn’t really fit in, but it was nice to pretend you did. Elspeth had even gifted you one of her old necklaces that probably would have paid for a car if you had sold it.

You and Venetia spent countless hours together; by the poolside, in your rooms, doing each other's nails or makeup, and playing tennis. Although she was a few years older than you, she was like the sister you never had.

As for Felix, your friendship only grew. You were thankful for him, for being so kind to you and welcoming you into a world you had never known before.

And Farleigh. Your relationship with him was… complicated. One moment, you would hurl stupid and immature insults at each other, and the next, you would be having a peaceful conversation. But the latter usually only occured when you were alone with him, which didn’t happen often. He let his guard down when he wasn’t around his family, which you found strange, but you never questioned it.

You were going to miss this place. You had to return to your normal, everyday life as a student with a normal house and normal parents. 

“We’re going to miss you dearly, love. We hope you visit again next year,” Elspeth remarked as you all sat around the breakfast table on the patio.

“Yeah. Felix, invite her again,” Venetia nudged her brother as she whispered loudly. Felix grinned and looked at you from across the table.

“So, what’s been your favorite part about your stay?” Elspeth questioned, leaning forward with curiosity.

“Honestly, I can’t even pick. It’s all been amazing. Really.” You said. You meant every single word. But you could’ve actually picked a favorite part, you just didn’t want to admit what, or who it was.

A while later, you were standing at the large front doors with your packed bags in your hands. 

Venetia embraced you tightly and you dropped your bags so you could hug her back. “See you next year, hopefully,” She said with a smile after releasing you.

“Yeah. See you.” You nodded and then looked over to Felix who was now also coming in for a hug.

“Bye, mate. I’ll see you at school, alright?” He patted your back as he pulled away and you smiled with a nod. 

Farleigh stood farther away, watching the goodbyes at a distance. You stared him down, trying to will him to come over. 

“Bye.” He simply said, expressionless. “Bye, Farleigh,” You smiled softly at him. You weren’t sure when the next time you would see him would be. He blinked at you and held your gaze before you turned away as Duncan was opening the doors for you. 

“Your cab is waiting outside the gates, miss,” He informed you. You nodded and picked up your bags.

~~~

2 YEARS LATER

It was your first evening at Oxford. You had just arrived and gotten most of your things unpacked, and then you and Felix were headed to the dining hall.

You remembered a few months ago when Felix told you Farleigh would be going to Oxford as well. You didn’t really know what you thought about this. Part of you was interested in seeing him in a different setting, not just at Saltburn during your summer holiday. Was he nicer to people at school? Did he even care about schoolwork?

“I told Farleigh to sit with us,” Felix mentioned as you walked next to him. You nodded. “Okay. How has he been?” You asked. You knew better than to care about him, since the feeling was clearly unrequited. You don’t think he would care if you died a sudden death.

But it was harmless, and only in a friendship kind of way. Or whatever complicated relationship you two had. 

“Good, I think,” Felix said. “You know, his mom went to Oxford. In a way, he’ll be able to connect with her. By being here, I mean.” He explained. You could tell it was his attempt at being philosophical. You just nodded and pretended to follow what he was saying.

You both walked into the large dining hall, mini lamps placed on top of the long tables to light the dim, high-ceilinged room.

You found some empty seats and sat down. A few minutes later, Felix had already spotted Farleigh and was waving for him to come over. You followed Felix’s line of sight and saw  Farleigh’s familiar coiled hair, and it seemed that maybe he had let it grow a bit longer than usual.

He was actually smiling for once, and it was such a rare sight you had to blink to make sure you weren’t hallucinating.

“Hey,” He grinned as he took the seat on the other side of you, pulling it closer to the table.

You had seen Farleigh earlier this month when you were still at Saltburn, but for some reason, he looked different. Like he grew up, or something. You couldn’t put your finger on what had changed, though.

Sure, he had recently turned 18, shortly before you did. But the whole aura radiating from Farleigh felt different and more mature. Or maybe it was the new designer clothes you had noticed, or the new necklaces and rings he was sporting. 

“Hi,” You smiled. You realized you must have been staring, and you quickly glanced away to survey the rest of the students filing into the hall.

You spaced out during the small talk and stared into space, pondering how your first day would go tomorrow.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” Felix nudged you. You glanced up. “Uhh… What party?” You hated seeming clueless, but when it came to this kind of thing, you were.

“You know, to welcome all the first years. Us.” He nodded as if to gesture to everyone else.

“Oh. Right. I don’t know, I want to get some good sleep before tomorrow.” You replied while inspecting your nails and picking away at them. 

That statement was half true, half not. You did want to get some well-needed rest, but you were also just terrified of parties and large social gatherings. You could be awkward sometimes, and you were scared of what a real college party would include. Drugs, alcohol… It made you uncomfortable to think about.

“C’mon, please? For me?” Felix gave you the puppy eyes and you sighed. “It’ll be fun,” He reassured you. You looked over to Farleigh. “Are you going?” You asked him.

He looked offended by your question. “Duh,” He answered. You didn’t know why it mattered if he was going or not.

“Ughhh, fine.” You rolled your eyes and facepalmed. Felix grinned brightly. “Yesss,” He whispered.

You couldn’t deny that you were having a good time at the party. You made a few new friends and you were gaining some confidence.

The only problem was that Felix promised you he would stay with you the whole time, since he knew how weary you were with even going in the first place.

And where was he? Nowhere to be seen. You guessed he had run off with some girl already. Hell, within the first ten minutes of you three entering the function, about four girls were already up on him, desperately flirting and twirling their hair.

You were standing in a dark corner when you saw Farleigh approaching you. He had a glass bottle of beer in each of his hands.

“Hey, you want one?” He offered you one of the beers. You were bored out of your mind, so you shrugged and took it. The glass felt nice and cold against your hand.

“Have you seen Felix?” Your eyes darted around nervously. Farleigh shook his head. “Nope. Saw him leaving with some red-head chick, though.” He raised his eyebrows up and down which made you laugh.

He moved to stand next to you against the wall, observing the neon-lit dance floor. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He peered down at you.

You shrugged. “I guess? I’d rather be inside sleeping, though.” He groaned. “You’re so boring. You know why you’re not having fun, right?” He leaned down slightly. You shook your head. “No, enlighten me.”

“You’re not high enough,” He said, a smirk forming on his face. “Farleigh. I’m not gonna get high with you.” You scoffed and took a swig of your beer, wincing a bit at the taste.

“Some guy was giving out joints. It’s weed,” He explained, drawing a small plastic bag of rolled joints out of his pocket.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna just smoke weed from some random guy.” You blew a strand of hair out of your face.

“They’re legit, I swear.” He leaned down to your height and whispered, “I already tried one.” 

You shook your head again. “I don’t smoke, you know that.” He stood up straight.

“Just try it. Look, I’m not dead yet. See?” He twirled around and you giggled. “C’mon, we can go out here.” He nodded to the side door.

You just wanted him to stop bothering you, so you let out a sigh. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.” He excitedly spun on his heel and led you both over to the door before holding it open for you.

You stepped into the warm and dense air of the night, glancing around nervously like you might get caught by someone. But who are you kidding, pretty much everyone here smokes and probably does worse.

“Okay. I’ll light it for you. Do you wanna share it?” He asked, pulling out his lighter and flicking it on.

“Yeah.” You didn’t want the commitment of having it all to yourself. He lit the joint and you watched him take a hit. He made eye contact with you the whole time. It seemed simple enough— a short inhale and then exhale.

“You try,” He handed you the joint and you eyed it suspiciously before putting it to your lips. You took maybe too long of a hit and immediately began coughing, smoke billowing out of your mouth. 

“Woah, easy..”  Farleigh chuckled at your reaction and you felt his hand on the small of your back as you tried to catch your breath.

“You make it look so easy,” You cleared your throat and looked up at him with watery eyes. He smiled smugly at your words.

“Just takes practice,” He told you casually. “Smoking weed is something I’d rather not practice.” Farleigh laughed at your remark and took the joint to take another hit.

“Do you like Felix?” The question came out of the blue and you turned to him.

“What do you mean…?” You lifted an eyebrow as he passed the joint to you. He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms.

“Like, do you actually enjoy your friendship with him?” He asked. You actually considered the question for a long moment.

“Well, he’s like… the only close friend I have,” You said hesitantly. “I continue to be friends with him because I don’t have a reason not to,” You explained before taking a small hit from the joint.

“And you like the wealth and title that comes with him, yeah?” Farleigh’s words hung in the silence. You knew he was being too nice. It was too good to be true.

“Yeah, I like the summers at Saltburn, but that’s not the reason why I’m friends with him.” Or was it? No. You refused to let yourself get gaslighted by Farleigh. But you began to question your reasoning when you said it out loud.

“I mean, what else does he have to offer?” Farleigh asked as you exhaled the smoke. Why was he suddenly turning against Felix? You thought Farleigh loved Felix. Maybe you had it all wrong.

“He’s nice to me,” You flashed him a glare and he stared back at you, drilling his gaze into yours. “I’m nice to you.” He said in a harsher tone.

“When you want to be,” You shot back, pressing the joint to your lips again, staring out into the darkness.

“What do you have against Felix, anyway?” You broke the short moment of silence and turned to face him.

“Nothing. Forget I ever said anything,” He raised his arms up as if to defend himself. “No, you can’t say weird shit like that and then expect me not to question it,” You handed the joint back to him and headed for the door to go back in. You planned on drinking as much alcohol as possible to show him that you don’t need him to teach you how to have fun.

“Do you even know how to get back to your dorm?” He asked, his brows furrowed. “What do you care?” You scowled at him before going back inside. 

Sooner or later, you had downed your whole bottle of beer and then you were doing shots with some random group of girls. You didn’t remember the rest of that night, but at least you ended up in your bed by the morning, even if you had a horrible hangover.

~~~

Sunlight creeps through the window and knocks impatiently on your eyelids. You groan and sit up, opening your eyes to the bright sunrise shining through your curtains,

Memories of yesterday flood back to you. Your drama with Felix, the car ride and visit to your parents with Farleigh, and telling Venetia all about it when you got back.

Felix didn’t get back from London until late last night, so you were waiting to talk to him today.

You don’t want problems between the two of you, but sometimes he’s just so ignorant and out of touch. 

A little while after breakfast, you make your way to Felix’s room. He seemed hungover during breakfast, so you wonder if this is going to turn out well.

You hesitate before knocking. “Come in,” He calls. You twist the doorknob and carefully enter. His expression softens slightly at the sight of you. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with a book in his hands.

“Hey. Can we talk?” You ask quietly. He nods, setting the book down.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I was in a mood, and I shouldn’t have said those things to you.” Felix starts before you can.

“Okay. But you know why I was mad, right?” You don’t want it to be that easy for him.

You can see the gears turning in his head. “Erm… because I couldn’t give you a ride?” He looks up at you, and you can’t tell if he’s playing dumb or not.

“No, it wasn’t just that. It’s the principle of it, Felix.” You shake your head. “The principle of what?” He asks, standing up.

“It just seems a lot like you care more about your popularity than you care about your best friend,” You explain, your voice shaking a bit. You don’t really like confrontation.

“No, that’s not true. I just-“

“Yes, it is. Ever since we got to Oxford. It’s always been this way. Leaving me alone at parties to go fuck some random girl, or multiple, for that matter.” Your voice is raised now and you can feel the anger rushing through your veins. All the things you’ve always wanted to say, but couldn’t.

“You know what, you should be thankful I even became your friend. Look what I’ve given you.” He gestures to what you’re assuming is the estate as a whole.

You scoff and laugh at his statement. “What you’ve given me? Are you kidding?! I’m not some stray animal off the street, Felix. I’m not homeless. I have parents. I have a home.” You feel tears welling up in your eyes already and that lump in your throat starting to form.

“Then why are you here?” This is the first time you’ve ever heard Felix really raise his voice. You both freeze in the silence and let his words hang in the air.

“You want me to leave? I can leave,” The tears are now falling down your cheeks as you blink. “No, wait-“

But it’s too late. You’re already storming out of his room and back to yours, which is just down the hall.

You see Farleigh standing near the end of the hallway, trying to eavesdrop. He notices your tears and is immediately heading over to you.

You try to get into your room and lock the door before Farleigh can get to you, but you fail. 

He guides you into your room, his hand pressed against your back firmly before closing the door with his free hand.

He embraces you in a gentle yet tight hug as you continue to sob. He rests his chin on your head and smooths some of your hair out. He holds you and lets you cry.

Farleigh was right about him. Felix thought he saved you from a horrible life. In reality, you would be fine without him. He was just a simple addition to your life.

You hardly realize the intimate moment that you’re in with Farleigh right now until your sobbing subsides.

You push away from him slightly, hands on his chest as you gaze up at him. You sniffle. “I got stuff on your shirt,” You laugh weakly and point at the wet spot on his shirt.

“It’s okay.” His arms return to his side and you find yourself missing the comfort of his arms around you and embracing you.

“Did you hear what he said?” You ask, wiping your eyes and sniffing again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” He nods. “Are you going to say I told you so?” You smile softly as you wipe the rest of your tears away.

“Do you want me to say I told you so?” He grins down at you, his brown eyes bright with amusement. You shake your head. “No way.” You both laugh, and you think you’ll be okay.

[stevesjockstrap]

Butter Him Up

🎁 Merry Christmas to @eddiethehunted who asked for nasty feral linecook!Eddie smut - props to you for answering smut questions in front of your grandma

Steve/Eddie • rated: E • vague timeline, no UD, inappropriate use of a staff bathroom, come and Steve’s uniform tie 🫠 now on ao3

When he’d applied for the job at the restaurant, he assumed it would be like working at Scoops or the movie theater, people order food and he gave it to them. He could handle that. Steve wasn’t a stranger to an embarrassing outfit, either. This one wasn’t even embarrassing, really. He actually liked the button down and tie, the half apron with big pockets.

The real issue was Eddie. The line cook.

Eddie made him feel like he was doing everything wrong, always asking him questions about his tickets or confusing him about sides and substitutions. He leered at him and made comments about his uniform like every other server wasn’t wearing the same exact thing. It made him crazy.

But when he walked into the kitchen, Eddie wasn’t there.

“Hey Jon, where’s Eddie tonight?” He asked, trying to keep his voice casual as he punched in.

“Their band had a gig, out in Indy, I think Gareth said. You’re going to have to make do with the rest of us tonight,” he sent him a wry smile.

Steve huffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon threw a towel over his shoulder and came closer to the counter, still giving him a sly smile. “We all see you two dancing around each other, man. It’s entertaining. Be careful there, he’s not known for his, uh, tenderness,” he chuckled.

Steve blinked. “Um. Okay? I’m not interested in anything with Eddie, alright?”

“Sure, Steve, whatever you say.”

It wasn’t until a few hours later that it hit him.

He did like it. Liked Eddie ‘dancing around him,’ like Jonathan said. He’d always been sort of an attention whore and tonight he felt off, unsteady without Eddie infuriating him with his comments and constantly feeling his eyes on him. On his ass.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he filled up water cups. What was he going to do about this?

“Heard you missed me yesterday, big boy,” Eddie jeered at him.

He took a moment to really look at him, a wild smile all teeth and tongue, metal shining from his lips and eyebrow and nose, tattoos across his throat and down his forearms where his own white button down was rolled up. Steve wanted to yank his hair out of the pile on top of his head. Oh.

“Sure did, Eds,” he replied with a quick wink.

He watched with satisfaction as a shock wave went though Eddie’s features, not expecting the pushback.

It didn’t seem to stop the comments or all the eye fucking, which Steve was now expecting and then maybe encouraging.

“Doll face, if they have an egg allergy they can’t have the Caesar dressing. Go see what they want.”

“Hey sweet cheeks, this appetizer for table 23 has been here longer than you’ve worked here, can you go take it to them?”

Steve put a swing to his hips as he took the plate with a smile and headed back to the front. He thought maybe there was a crash behind him as the door swung shut. He smirked to himself.

After the big dinner rush, he punched in his own shift meal and stood watching as Eddie got the ticket.

“You going on break, babydoll?”

“Yeah, you gunna come?”

There was a cut off sound and Gareth snickered next to him at the line.

By the time he was shoved into the staff bathroom, Eddie seemed to have recovered his attitude.

Big hands grabbed at his ass, and Eddie groaned into his ear. “Shit, Stevie. You’ve been teasing me with this ridiculous ass of yours forever.”

“Uh huh,” he gasped as he was pulled forward roughly and their hard lengths rubbed against each other, a hot mouth finding his neck. Eddie already had him wound so tight and he felt like he was going to explode. “Please-“

“I know, sweets. You’re already so desperate, huh?”

Steve whined as his apron was untied and thrown, his shirt rucked out of his pants so hands could work their way down the back of them to grab a handful.

Then he was quickly pushed away as Eddie ordered, “Down on your knees, I think, darlin’. There’s a good boy. Need those lips around me. Shut you up good, huh?”

Steve was quick to comply, just as ready to sink down onto his knees for him. They both fumbled with his belt and zipper, Eddie finally slapping his hands away and yanking his boxers under his balls.

Eddie’s dick was big, and already so hard, precome beading at the head. His mouth watered and he immediately opened it and stuck his tongue out.

“Such a cock slut, aren’t you, pretty? Yeah, you need it so bad, don’t you?”

He nodded, tongue still out as Eddie held his cock just out of reach for another moment before tapping it onto his tongue. Steve went up on his knees, trying to push further down on his length and received a few inches for his trouble. Hands came around the back of his head to rake through his hair and he moaned around him. Suddenly the hands pulled him roughly up, shoving his length down his throat. He gagged and tears sprung to his eyes.

“That’s it, shit, the mouth on you. Ah-”

Steve tried to suck in breaths through his nose as Eddie pulled him back and forth, licking around the head and keeping his teeth out of the way while his throat was fucked open on his gorgeous cock.

Suddenly he needed something else. He slid back and looked up, gasping out, “Fuck me, Eddie, please-“

“Jesus Christ, Stevie. Of course. Get up here.”

Eddie yanked him to his feet and pushed him against the sink. He made quick work of his fly, letting his pants slide down his legs.

“So wet for me already, pretty. Turn around. That’s it.”

When he found himself bent over the sink, some small semblance of sense sparked in his brain. “Lube,” he gasped. He couldn’t string a sentence together to save his life right now. “I-“ he shook his head.

“Got it, sweets. Been carrying it around since your second day here. I’ve fantasized about you spreading your legs for me every day since then.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. Why was that hot?

“Yeah, dreamed about bending you over the bar and letting the whole place watch.” Eddie grabbed handfuls of his ass again quickly before yanking his underwear down. They both groaned when he pulled his cheeks apart and spit directly onto him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he whined as fingers rubbed the wetness around his rim. “C’mon, Ed-“

“You gunna let me in this tight little hole?” Eddie taunted. He must’ve added some lube before he pushed a finger in roughly, Steve raising up on his toes with a squeak. “That’s it, gotta stretch you out for this big cock.”

“Oh my god.”

“Just Eddie works, sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly.

Steve shuddered, the condescending tone sending him further to the stratosphere. He arched his back as he added another finger. “You are- ah- such a dick!” He said between clenched teeth.

“Sure am, baby. And you love it. Think I’m gunna come all over this ass. Rub it in and let you walk around with me all over you as you finish your shift. How’s that sound, my little slut?”

He, naturally, decided then to press solidly against his prostate and Steve lost the plot of the conversation again, only able to gasp and groan as another finger was introduced to his entrance. He pushed back against it, trying to hurry him up. For someone ‘not known for their tenderness’ he sure was taking his time in his preparation.

“Such a little slut, Stevie. I know, I know, we’re getting there. Hold your horses.”

Finally, there was a blunt wet head pushing against his rim and he moaned as it popped in.

“Mmm, you gunna be loud for me, baby? Let the whole place know you’re getting what’s coming to you?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t ideal for his job or reputation, but the rest of him thought that was a great plan. Nodding and whining since he couldn’t get any words to come out, Eddie chuckling at him.

Now he realized the prep he’d thought was excessive was necessary and almost cursory, as Eddie continued to press forward and his dick stretched him impossibly. He whimpered and gasped, Eddie pulling him upright and he got to watch them in the mirror as he finally bottomed out inside of him.

“Holy fuck,” Steve breathed. Thankfully Eddie took pity on him and gave him a moment to adjust, mouthing down his neck to his collar.

With a smirk, he pulled out, looking pointedly down between them, probably knowing Steve was watching in the mirror.

“Your greedy little hole is sucking me right back in, darlin’- oh fuck- so fucking tight,” Eddie rambled.

He shoved back in and rubbed over his prostate, making Steve shake and arch his back for more. His head dropped forward and he heard a tsk from behind him.

With a grin, Eddie grabbed the tie around his neck, spinning it around and wrapping it around his fist, using it to keep him from falling forward. The threat and the tightness around his throat made his dick twitch and he automatically wrapped a hand around himself.

His arms were suddenly pulled back and Eddie held onto his wrists in the small of his back.

“Uh uh, greedy. You’re gunna wait. Think you can come just from my cock? Huh?”

Steve wailed as the angle changed and his prostate was nailed again and again, pulled around like a rag doll as Eddie held onto his wrists and his hip. He didn’t know how he was even still standing, his legs shaking under him.

“Christ, I knew your ass would be magnificent, doll face,” Eddie huffed into his ear. “Look at you, so drunk on my cock you don’t even know which way is up, poor baby.”

Steve cracked an eye open and tried to make sense of what he was seeing in the mirror, his own flushed cheeks, mouth open, tear tracks and drool making a mess of his face. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead and sticking up where Eddie had raked his hands through it. He looked completely fucked.

The heat in his belly coiled tighter and he gasped out, “Cl-close, Eds!”

“Me too, sweetheart. C’mon, come for me and I’ll decorate this perfect ass of yours.”

Something must’ve shown on his face or Eddie just instinctively knew what he needed but he watched as the tattooed arm left his hip and his hand wrapped around his neck, pressing just right on the sides.

His eyes rolled back and he may have screamed as his orgasm shot through him, his hips rolling forward and back through the aftershocks. Eddie growled in his ear as he continued fucking him through it as he clenched around him.

“So fucking good, Stevie,” he hissed before pulling out roughly.

His wrists were released and he miraculously caught himself as he dropped forward onto the sink, able to see just Eddie’s face as he jerked himself off above him.

“Oh fuck, can’t wait to see you shaking this ass around for everyone, knowing it’s covered in me, ah- all mine.” He grunted lowly and Steve gasped again as he felt the hot splashes against his back and down his cheeks. Big hands immediately started rubbing it in, making sure to cover every inch and down his crack.

“Pull your pants up, slut,” he growled.

After barely making it through the rest of his shift, he wasn’t surprised when Eddie met him at the back door. “Your place or mine, baby cakes?”

Gareth ran to Jonathan’s car as he pulled in for his shift the next afternoon, “You owe me fifty bucks!” He held out his hand with a wide smile.

“Fuck!”

[moralesluvr]

If you want, could I request a Hobie one where he comes home late from spider society/work to find his regular civilian gf wearing his clothes and playing around with his guitar because she misses him and out of guilt he takes her out to go swinging around the city at night in his arms? She can’t shoot webs or anything so she just holding on to Hobie for her life and he’s reassuring her he won’t ever let her go and being all sweeet 😭

swing with me? ft. hobie brown

♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: hobie comes back from work late and sees that you miss him, hence that you're wearing his clothes and messing with his things. he feels bad, so he takes you swinging <3 ♡ warnings: noneee just fluff <3 ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

HOBIE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME two hours ago.

You were anticipating his arrival, the longing of his presence tugging in your heart as your frame took home on a spot on his couch, patiently scrolling through your phone to pass time. But it wasn't that easy— your tolerance for his absence started to wane, and you even texted and called him to make sure that he wasn't dead—or something along the lines of that.

He didn't answer your text or calls, however, so you just rose from your spot on the couch and sadly wallowed to his room, where you tugged at the hem of your T-shirt and replaced it for one of Hobie's band tees. It was nearly a dress on you, but you refused to take it off because it smelled like him and it was warm.

Hours past and you were quite literally bored out of your mind— not to mention that your brain was just playing reruns of moments with your boyfriend that truly meant something to you.

You missed him. You missed his laugh, his stupid British slang that you could never understand, his scent, his smile. You missed his arms hugging you tight and you missed the way your name rolled off of his tongue. You missed it all.

It was now nearly one am, and you were starting to feel drowsier and drowsier, but you fought the blanket of sleep that began to cover you by grabbing Hobie's overly decorated guitar, sitting it in your lap as you fiddled with it. You only really knew two chords, but it was something to keep your nerves going so that you wouldn't be idle and fall asleep.

It was almost two when you heard keys jingling in the front door. You had perked up, watching the doorknob anxiously as your lanky boyfriend walked through it. He looked so worn out— eye bags lower than usual, face a little bruised up, hands clammy and cut up. He watched as you made eye contact with him, walking over to your sitting position on the edge of his bed. He came down to your level and immediately pecked your cheek, the act of affection being laced with apology and love.

"I'm so sorry, love— I didn't mean to stay out all night. Miguel was maddenin' me about some stupid late-minute mission."

You frown when you take in his apologetic expression. His nimble fingers come up to poke your sides, "You alright, sweetheart? Y'look worn out."

"Sleepy," you responded, rubbing your eyes as you threw yourself at your boyfriend, arms wrapping around him, "Missed you."

"I missed you madly." Hobie responded, lips trailing to your cheek as he peppered a few kisses there, pushing your curls out of the way to get to your lips. He tasted like coffee and you knew that he hardly drank it, so he must've been worn out.

"Wanna go swingin' with me?"

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows, half because you're too tired to comprehend his question and half because you didn't even understand what he was saying.

"I said, do you want to go swingin' with me?" Hobie responded. You blinked for a second, then nodded, taking the hand that was outstretched for you. You stood up, walking behind your lover as he guided you to the living room.

You stopped, "Um, won't I need shoes?"

"Why do you need shoes if you'll never touch the ground?" Hobie questioned with a smirk, grabbing one of his jackets and putting it around you. It was huge, just like his T-shirt— but the night was glacial and he didn't want you to be freezing cold. Plus, he adored the way you looked in his clothes.

He then scooped you up in his arms, quickly flickering the living room light off and passing through your front door, shutting it behind himself. He then shot a web to a nearby building, whispering to you as your curls caught in the rushing wind that passed you.

"Just hold on 'ta me, yeah?"

You nod and bury your head in the crook of his neck, cold breezes making your cheeks harden as you let out tiny screams, your voice becoming lost in the wide atmosphere of NYC.

New York was still. It was a peculiar occurrence for the city that never sleeps, that never ceases— but you weren't complaining.

Some areas were awake, and you swung by them, listening to the music that played from people's apartments or from the typical streets of Time Square.

Hobie would occasionally tell you about secret spots that he would practice in, or bars and parks that he wished to take you to when you both weren't busy with anything. You loved seeing the city like this— not just from an ordinary civilian's perspective, but from the perspective of someone who saves it. Who loves it. Who doesn't just live there. You see it from a bird's eye view, making you fall more in love with the city.

Hobie looks at you as you swing low through some complexes, eyes twinkling brightly in the pale moonlight. He then kisses you before resting his forehead against yours, whispering,

"I'll never let you go, I promise."

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae // @luci1fer

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🎸: @lipstickstainedshells // @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @leycondones // @allex560 // @mhadnirb // @pixqlsin // @maya-custodios-dionach // @smolmoonbabey // @Iris-theflower // @kala2022 // @spiderpunkss // @milesmolasses // @flatbread-or-smth // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @lordbugs // @popeheywardssecretgf

[turnyptown]

Celeb!Gojo x POC Reader

Satoru doesn't pay much attention to the things people say about him on social media. Not until they get his girlfriend involved.

a/n: celeb gojo prolly dont even manage his own account ughhh

(POC Reader!, suggestive dialogue, pet names {princess, love, babe, etc}, m4f)

You yawn, turning over to the empty spot beside you in the bed. Per usual, Satoru was making phone calls. He called his manager about his next events and interviews, simultaneously fighting allegations on twitter and instagram.

“Cancel the party for- What do you mean I’m trending? Excuse me?”

He frantically paced the halls, shouting yet still whispering so he wouldn’t wake his love. You heard the muffled rambling of his manager on the other line.

“It’s all about you and miss [F/N]. They have an image of you two entering coachella.” Satoru sighs at the clarification as he wraps up the conversation, eager to get back to you. He lets his head hang while his hands are on his hips. He couldn’t think of what to do.

It isn’t like he doesn’t want the world to know about you, he just doesn’t want you to receive any of the hate he gets on social media, especially by crazed fans who get upset at the thought of him with someone. You knew all this and still decided to fall in love with a celebrity.

I mean, who could blame you? He’s hot!

He paced more until he caught a glimpse of you sitting up from your shared bed. He stops abruptly and takes lazy steps towards you with a small frown.

“Morning, princess. Did y’sleep well?” He mumbles against your neck, peppering it with kisses and easing back into bed with you.

You rubs your eyes with a nod, leaning into his touch. His hands were soft, but cold against your skin. You yawn before stretching and putting your weight on him as you tilt against his chest.

“Ya haven’t slept that long since I fucked you to sleep-” His comment was cut off with a harsh smack in the face with his own pillow. “Ouch, babe. Love you, too.”

“Maybe don’t say things like that in my first ten minutes of consciousness.” You pout.

He gently tackles you to lie back down as he passes you your phone, watching you scroll on social media. You come across a fan edit of him before huffing and scrolling onto the next post.

Satoru reaches his hand out to scroll back up to the edit of himself. “What’s this? You make this or somethin’?”

You sigh before denying his inquiry, “No, Satoru, it’s an edit from one of your many fans.”

“Go to the comments, what are they saying?” He smiles, eager to receive the praise he gets on the daily from a bunch of strangers online.

You tap the comment section to open the pop-up and start to scroll through. He squints to read them and is taken aback by a few things.

“No lube, no… What the fuck? We aren’t stopping until- hold on, who is we?” Satoru gasps at the replies to a simple video of flashing lights and transitioning video clips of him. Is this really all it took to be talked about like a pornstar? He wasn’t sure how to feel.

A particular comment catches his eye.

‘guys chill yk he got a girl now’

‘when?!?! omg link??’

‘js search “satoru gojo girlfriend coachella” on youtube’

“Oh, way to keep a secret, Gojo is my idol underscore fifteen!” Satoru groans.

You continue scrolling through the replies which, to your surprise, are becoming less about your boyfriend and targeted towards you. And not in a good way.

Insult after slur and slur after insult, they were just going in on you.

‘that *** can khs, he dont deserve that thing’

‘Shes not even attractive bye’

You felt tears start to swell in your eyes, blinking them away as Satoru scanned the screen for some kind of joke. He frowned and stood up, dialing his manager again.

They exchange a few inaudible words from the other side of the bedroom door before he returns to your company and smiles widely.

“What’re you up to, Satoru?”

He doesn't reply, but instead sends you a tweet he made a moment ago.

He continues to grin as he sees your mood improve a bit, pulling you in closer. “Don’t worry about them. They’re jus’ mad cuz they probably don’t have the exotic gorgeousness you possess, baby.”

You smile but cringe a bit internally, “Never say exotic again.”

[mightypossibly]

yandere!elite x GN!reader

contents: yandere, fluff, rough making out

summary: in the dead of night, a rich boy and his darling sneak out to their boarding school's indoor garden

“I love coming here at night,” he said, looking up at the starry sky. Even in the dim light of the glowing flowers around us, he looked incredibly beautiful. There was a bittersweetness to his beauty, like at any moment he could disappear and I’d only be able to glimpse him in my dreams and memories. He had deep brown eyes, warm brown skin, and long, spiraling locs. His form was lean and athletic from years of training. “I’m sorry I dragged you here… I just really wanted you to see this.”

“I’m not too mad,” I joked nervously. “I just don’t want to get caught up, you know.”

I didn’t want to be afraid when with him, but in the darkness of the night, I heard my heart racing. We sat in the Garden together. If it were any other time, I would have been ecstatic to be here. This was where the great Princes had gathered, ate and celebrated each other. This was a place of legend and lore… and all that didn’t mean much to my companion. He just thought it looked pretty here.

He had come to my dorm in stealth, and concealed me along with him. He had a strong predisposition for protection spells, particularly veiling. His being the descendant of the academy’s founders also got him special access into lots of different places here, at basically any time. His family handed him anything he wanted because of his talent, beauty and aptitude. They were fools for him, so there we sat, probably scot-free. Well, I wasn’t so sure about myself, which was one of the reasons I was afraid of being with him.

It was also because he was fucking insane.

He pulled me into a hug. He smelled like the sweet milk roses around us; sugary and potent. He kissed my neck and trailed his hand down my belly, all the way down to my lap. He then pressed his full, soft lips against mine. Deepening the kiss, he pulled me in tighter. I closed my eyes, knowing his was open. He liked to see every tiny flinch and expression I made, and it was his incentive to go faster, be rougher, and taste every inch of me.

“Mm… w-we shouldn't do this here,” I said, breathlessly pulling away.

He didn't miss a beat. He licked his wet lips and said, “We’ll go to a room, then.”

“S-Sure… um, mine isn’t the prettiest, but—”

He shook his head, his expression incredulous. His eyes were suddenly cloudy and distant. He stuttered, “I don’t want to impede upon something so holy…and private… That’s your… personal space. No, there are rooms here. I’ll show you.”

He stood up and pulled me up along with him. He took my hand and guided me to the maze-like Garden, until we came upon a waterfall. A line of stones led directly to it. He gestured me to go first, saying that he’d catch me if I fell. I carefully took each step, and he followed behind. I stopped at the last visible stone.

“Do I… just go in?”

“Yes, my love,” he said with a chuckle. 

Rolling my eyes, I stepped through. Instead of getting drenched, I was met with a warm atmosphere. I now stood in a room that was cozy, with a blazing fireplace, a couple filled-up bookcases, a king-sized bed, and a faux fur rug. It was only a tad bigger than my own dorm room. It was surprisingly homely. I had been to his dorm room before, and it was much more grand, dramatic and large.

“I stay here most often. I wanted to take you here before, but I didn't want to do it that day. I was planning to take you here after we fucked in the Garden, but this is a good a place as any.”

I blinked, failing to process the true extent of his shamelessness. I said, in a scolding tone, “h/n!”

He grinned and said, “Do you like it? I decorated it myself. I definitely want to live in a whole cottage like this when I retire. With you, of course.”

I laughed. “Isn’t it too early to plan that sort of thing out?”

“I love these kinds of houses,” he replied happily, sitting down.

“No, I mean marrying someone. That’s something you have to plan.”

“Just tell me what you want in a wedding and we’ll do that.”

“That’s not what I— Oh, never mind.”

He furrowed his devastatingly lovely eyebrows. Caressing my face, he whined, “Have I upset you? That seems to be my talent these days. Please forgive me.”

How could someone with so much power at his disposal look so submissive? It looked as if he would yield to my every desire. I shook my head at him. I sat down next to him and told him he didn’t upset me at all. He kissed me when he heard that, slipping his warm, wet tongue into my mouth. He teased the entrance to my throat, and I moaned into him. My mind was getting murky as he fondled my chest, waist, thighs, and the warmth between them— he somehow moved both slowly and quickly, his warm fingers finding their way under my clothes. He laid me down and began to grind his groin into mine, embracing me with his muscular arms. He was heavy and strong, so my will buckled under him. He kissed my ear all the while, and thanked me for letting him get so close to me. 

“I’m so weak,” he whispered. “I-I just can’t st-stop…”

I stroked his head in response, losing myself in the sweet feelings he was drawing out of me. He asked me to marry him a billion times in a row, and I breathlessly moaned his name....

divider by @/cafekitsune

[on-a-lucky-tide]

A young, horny Lambert sets his sights on an older hunk of Witcher beef. CW: age gap, flirtation.

"I'm going for it."

"Lambert, don't be a fucking idiot. They'll laugh at you."

"They might, but he won't. You miss all the chances you don't take, right?"

"Your funeral."

Lambert licked his lips and smoothed his hair back as he stood. He hadn't torn his eyes away from his mark for a single second since said man had swaggered into the hall a few hours before. This was the winter he'd do it. He was a man himself now, which meant he had every chance of bagging himself the hunk of good-lookin' he'd been coveting from the moment his dick had started getting hard at night and hair had appeared on his jaw.

Eskel.

It wasn't just that Eskel had two decades on Lambert or that he was becoming a seasoned witcher. No other Witcher in the keep compared. Sure, some tried. They might step toe to toe during drills or try to outflame Eskel's igni, but they never could. The only one that outmatched Eskel was his pale shadow, Geralt. They even looked a little similar. But cream puff was a fucking bean pole of a man, and that shitty headband...

N'aw, Lambert wanted big. He wanted heat, and honey eyes, and that thatch of dark hair he'd seen on Eskel's barrelled chest in the baths, and that huge fucking d--

"You lost, Lambert?"

Lambert blinked. Gweld, the ginger prick, was frowning at him, ale tankard halfway up to his mouth. The others had paused their card game; Clovis looked drunk, Geralt was slouched back trying to see Clovis' hand and Eskel was watching Lambert speculatively.

Watching, with those honey-coloured eyes that turned Lambert inside out. The words caught in Lambert's throat; shit, fuck, why was he so fuckin' stupid the moment Eskel looked at him?

He took a breath, conscious of Clovis elbowing Gweld with a chuckle, while Geralt looked over with a smirk.

Lambert found his words. He folded his arms, thrust his chest out, widened his stance and put on his best cocky smirk. "Was just wonderin' whether Eskel wanted some better company. You losers can't handle your beer at the best of times."

They laughed. Gweld elbowed Eskel who cocked a half smile, eyes rolling not at Lambert, but his friends, proving Lambert's point. Obviously.

"Is that right?" Geralt asked, amusement turning his narrow face bright with a toothy grin. Lambert had been told that as witchers matured they honed their sense of smell, could identify a man's emotions from his body language, the flush in his skin. Lambert knew Geralt had him sussed. "And what kinda company are you offering?"

"Geralt..." Eskel growled in warning, and it went straight to Lambert's groin. Fucking hells.

"Whatever he wants. I'm a man of many talents."

More laughter--"little man has game, shit; fuck, I'm chokin, too funny"--but Lambert wasn't put off. Eskel's eyes were on him, warming him like the sun. The lines around those eyes were wrinkled with mirth, and damn if that smile wasn't snatching the breath right out of Lambert's chest.

"Does your master know you're out?" Eskel asked, placing his cards face down. He leaned back in his chair and slung his elbow onto the back of it, knee turned out while a hand tapped at his drink.

Lambert tried to keep his eyes level and resist the urge to... look. Eskel's codpiece put on an absolutely fucking heroic effort, but it could only hide so much and that was when Eskel was soft. "What he don't know can't hurt him. No business of his who else is in my bed as long as I am."

Eskel pressed his lips together to smother his smile while the others guffawed. More was said but Lambert didn't really hear; he was too focused on keeping his heart from beating out his chest and appearing suave.

Eskel hummed. "Aren't you a little young to be lookin' for that kinda fun?"

"Worried you won't be able to keep up, old man?" Lambert felt momentum. He could do snark, he could meet Eskel on this well worn ground, toe to toe, and the way Eskel's head tilted to the side and his eyebrow rose. It wasn't a no, right? He looked interested. Amused, but he didn't dismiss Lambert outright.

Gweld slapped Eskel on the shoulder with a bark. "Eskel here's got stories that'd make your balls shrivel up into yer belly, lad. I don't think he's a good choice for yer first ride, best drop your ambitions."

"Fuck off, Gweld," Eskel said, but there was no heat to his words. Just wry amusement.

Geralt snorted into his drink and Clovis made a vulgar gesture with his hand, but before Lambert could respond a familiar voice barked through the hall and sucked all the building sexual tension into a vacuum. "Lambert, get your arse to bed, you missed roll call!"

Lambert clenched his teeth, shoulders lifting towards his ears. For fuck's sake...

Three of the witchers in front of him groaned in mock empathy. "Oof, tough break, Lambino. Cock blocked by Vesemir," Gweld said, shaking his head while Geralt and Clovis snickered. "Don't worry, we've all been there. Ain't that right, Gerbear?"

Geralt guffawed in protest and smacked Gweld on the shoulder. It quickly devolved into a wrestling match on the floor, one which Gweld was definitely going to lose. Eskel watched them briefly before he looked back at Lambert. "Another time perhaps," he said, toasting Lambert with his ale. "G'wan, before he decides the target dummies are a little light on straw."

Lambert grunted, frustrated, but stalked away. He'd made inroads, and the way Eskel's eyes had shone, and that crooked grin. Eskel hadn't outright rejected him, hells, he'd--well, that smile... Eskel didn't smile at everyone like that.

Lambert laid in bed with that smile behind his eyes and a hand under the sheets, determined that it would be Eskel's instead of his own by winter's end.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 10

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now. 

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least. 

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.” 

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis. 

A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky. 

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself. 

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you. 

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right? 

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly. 

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago. 

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground. 

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now. 

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.” 

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added. 

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars. 

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined. 

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car. 

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought. 

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised. 

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn. 

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future. 

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now. 

Moving forward wasn’t so bad. 

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual. 

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin. 

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him. 

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago. 

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to. 

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago. 

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June. 

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first. 

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter? 

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?” 

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them. 

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost. 

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you. 

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said. 

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today? 

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly. 

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago. 

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige. 

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted. 

“Are you going to hang up on me now?” 

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.” 

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight. 

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money- 

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.” 

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie? 

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now. 

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said. 

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster. 

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said. 

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked. 

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly? 

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.” 

Oh, it can get weirder. 

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white. 

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.” 

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real. 

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?” 

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.” 

“Why just me?” 

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.” 

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last. 

“When do you land?” Eddie asked. 

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.” 

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.” 

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.” 

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.” 

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said. 

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed. 

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours? 

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth. 

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no. 

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room. 

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep. 

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it. 

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus. 

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together. 

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex. 

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date. 

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened. 

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out. 

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you... 

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now. 

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out. 

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv. 

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today. 

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again. 

You answered on the third ring. 

“No Hellfire today?” you asked. 

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?” 

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called. 

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table. 

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale. 

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge. 

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent. 

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk. 

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?” 

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did. 

“I want to.” 

Two people. 

Fuck, he needed to tell you. 

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?” 

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.” 

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence. 

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town? 

“That sounds like a lot.” You said. 

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?” 

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?” 

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation. 

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke? 

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?” 

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again. 

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.” 

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath. 

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

[lambsouvlaki]

His Heart (Dad!Jason AU)

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: G, no warnings, besides sappiness.

Word Count: 1,390

Summary: Jason comes back from a years long mission in space, and finds out he's a dad.

Masterlist

Jason stepped into the JLA Watchtower. Earth glowed, vast, blue, and beautiful, through the giant windows. It had been almost two years since he saw it. Dorothy knew what she was on about, there really was no place like home.

He was so sick of sleeping alone in his bunk. Andy had just moved into his apartment when he got swept away, and it had just started to feel really right. 

Dick stood in the otherwise empty airlock in civvies. The furrow on his forehead was a little deeper than it had been last time, but his smile was just as wide and genuine. 

He stepped forward and wrapped Jason up in a hug. Jason hugged his brother back, far beyond pretending at coldness. Space was cold enough, and the two years on the front lines had taken their toll on him. 

“I wasn’t expecting a welcome party,” he said as they pulled back. 

“What were you expecting?”

“I dunno,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe a giant spray painted sign saying ‘And don’t come back!’”

Dick laughed. “Sure, if we wanted to see how long it’d take you to break into the tower.”

“Three minutes.”

“Well, you’re tired, we wouldn’t hold it against you.”

Jason scoffed. “I missed you, you asshole.” 

Dick flashed his winning smile. “So now what? I only saw your arrival by chance. Do you have plans?”

“Not really. I’ll probably slink home, see if it's still standing. See if Andy still… wants anything to do with me.” 

Dick blinked, his expression going blank. 

Jason’s heart clenched. Was there just an empty apartment waiting for him with a note that had been collecting dust for eighteen months? It would be exactly what he deserved, he thought with a bitter twist of his lips. 

“I guess I’ll settle in for a couple of days then go find her,” he said. Maybe just messaging her would be kinder? No, he was going to look her in the eye, even if it was just to say goodbye. 

“Don’t do that,” Dick said. He touched Jason’s shoulders urgently. “Go straight to her. I’ll take you, we’re going now. She deserves that much.” He turned and hurried through the hallways towards the zeta tubes. 

“Whoa, what? What are you talking about?” Jason caught up to him, grabbed his arm and dragged him back to a halt. “What’s happened?”

“Look, it’s not really my place to say.”

“You’re freaking me out, Dick,” he growled. “What, is she dying?” 

“No! No, Jason, she… she’s had a baby. Your baby.” 

For a moment the world stopped. The rotation of the vast planet out the window surely halted, same as the beat of his heart. 

“What?” Jason rasped. 

“Sophie. She turned one a few months back.” 

“She’s my–? Oh. Oh fuck.” 

The world rebooted, spinning anew but the axis had moved. Jason leaned hard against the wall. “Sophie,” he whispered. 

Dick patted him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, by the way. For a year ago.”

Jason laughed, frantic and broken. 

“Do you need a moment?” Dick offered. “We can go sit and–”

“No.” Jason pulled himself up. He marched towards the zeta tubes. “We’re going now. Straight to Andy and my– my daughter. Is she… how is she? Are they okay? Did the family help out?”

“Of course, Jay. That little girl has a whole circus’ worth of aunts and uncles who love her to bits. And a doting grandfather and great grandfather who spoil her rotten.” 

He hung his head as they reached the platform. “I should have been there. I should have been there. What kind of deadbeat am I?”

“Save that for Andy.” 

“Yeah.” 

---

They drove from the manor to the apartment by the river overlooking the Narrows. It was the same one he and Andy had shared for that halcyon four months before duty came calling. 

Dick dropped him off downstairs, saying he didn’t want to intrude but demanded Jason call him when he was settled in to plan some kind of family night. Jason didn’t hear a word of it. 

He made it to the apartment door without registering any of it. He dropped his bag of gear. 

He knocked. 

“Coming!” Andy’s voice called. Faint music was drifting out through the walls, something upbeat and light. The door opened, letting in noonday light to the dark hallway, shining around a smiling Andy. She was in loose workout clothes that were stained on the shoulders. She wore no makeup and her hair was up in a bun on top of her head, and her skin had a light sheen of sweat. 

Her expression stuttered at the sight of him. 

He had no words. 

“Jason?” 

He surged forward. She met him halfway. Her arms wrapped around him as tight as his did around her, and it felt more right than anything ever had before. 

He managed to get her name out, before he kissed her. Her hand grazed his cheek so tenderly. 

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. Had there ever been anything so beautiful? 

“Jason, I have to tell you,” she said, putting a hand on his chest. “While you were gone, I…”

“I know. Dick told me.” He looked around the entryway. Even if Dick hadn’t said a word the folded up pram, the tiny raincoat, and the row of little shoes would give the game away. The furniture had seen a change too, most things had been moved higher up.

His eyes caught on the shoes. They were so small. He couldn’t help his smile. 

“Where is she?” he asked. 

“Gaa,” a high pitched voice rang out from the living room. 

Andy’s lips quirked. 

Soft, slow footfalls patted on the hard flooring, heralding the new arrival. 

He stepped forward, out of the still open doorway. 

And a little girl toddled into view. She was wobbly but her face was fixed into a determined pout. She stuck her nappy-wrapped bum out for balance, and held her arms cautiously forwards. She wore a single sock and a yellow dress. 

Jason’s heart relocated itself. It no longer lived in his chest.

She had a wispy halo of black floppy curls and a chubby round face. She stared at him. 

He knelt down. 

“Sophie, baby girl, this is your daddy. Can you say daddy?”

“Mammy.”

“Daddy,” Andy repeated, her voice wet.  

Sophie hummed. She toddled closer, relentless despite some wobbles. She stuck out her lower lip and fixed her eyes to him with absolute determination. He held out his hand. She reached back, closer with every step. 

Jason held his breath. 

Her whole tiny hand wrapped around his crooked index finger. She laughed in triumph and then fell onto her bottom.

“Oom,” she said on impact. 

She looked up at him again, actually seeing him now that her quest was complete. Big curious eyes of sparkling blue stared at him. 

“Hello,” he said. He offered a shaky smile. His eyes were glassy. 

She stared back. She blinked.

“Da.”

His tears fell. “That’s me,” he said. 

“Da. Da. Da de da den dayaya,” she babbled and giggled at herself.  She lifted her arms at him.

He lifted her gently and held her to his chest. She was so impossibly small. He could feel her heart beat against him, so feverishly fast. But she was calm, quite happy to be held. He curled around the most precious thing in the world. His breath hitched as he tried not to sob. 

She hugged him back; chubby little arms wound around his neck. She was so unafraid. 

He looked up at Andy. She was smiling down at them through her own tears, her hand held over her mouth. 

He stood, lifting his baby up. He held his little girl in one arm and the love of his life in the other. The baby was the only one dry eyed. Andy kissed the downy top of her head. Sophie leaned her head against his chest with a little sigh, safely ensconced between them. 

“Uncy?” 

“Hn?” he queried. 

“No, baby, he’s not an uncle.” 

Sophie turned her head back, looking up at him.

“Uncy Da,” she said, like she wasn’t letting them trick her that easy. 

He gave an amused snort that almost covered the yawning gulf in his heart. “That’s what I get for not being here.” 

“You’ll just have to stick around and convince her otherwise.” 

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “I will.”

Next>>

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Poly? In this economy?

Barbie dolls: moonwater x you (regulus, Remus, you)

Words: 1.8k ish

Summary: okay so you and regulus had a fwb and then you get upset with each other and then start dating Remus at the same time and then regulus is like 🥺 I miss you boo bear come back to me

Warnings:Fwb regulus to rival kinda to lover, poly angle to triangle, regulus and you hate each other and then are like "ha nvm", making out in partial public spaces, suicide mentioned you tell regulus to kill himself but with sexual tension behind it kinda, pathetic reg gives loser apology and you forgive him, mentioned that you wear chapstick, Remus calls you darling, that's all

You liked Regulus first. You had started as friends. You were close, you know so much about him. You helped him through panic attacks, homework, and moments of overstimulation. You were so close, when he first suggested friends with benefits you barely blinked. You had shrugged and agreed. It was quite simple, really. You both cared so deeply for each other, as friends of course, why not care for each other sexually as well?

You both met up in secret. Regulus ushered you into his bed late at night. He pulled the dark green curtains together tightly. Regulus pulled out his journal. You were confused for a little before he started writing. So that night you both spent whispering to each other and writing up a contract. To be perfectly fair you weren't really shocked he needed a contract to have a slightly peculiar relationship with you. Within the contract you both agreed it was purely sexual not romantic and if you do happen to catch feelings it is mandatory you tell the other so the relationship can come to a close. It was nice Regulus was very caring as a friend and a sexual partner. He took his time and you returned the favor. You often only met under the blanket of night. When the sun was out it felt different, like it was out in the open for everyone else to see.

Unfortunately for you and Regulus you were both terrible at staying friends. The lines between friendship and a loving relationship started to blur very early. Regulus became more touchy. You started kissing his cheek and lingering with your lips on his skin. It became clear to your friend group something had changed. Barty started joking about it more often. If anyone asked where you two went he responded with 'fucking.' Because your behavior with each other and your friends blunt although not wrong accusations, people thought you two were dating. You were just close friends. You first saw Remus when you were with Regulus in the Library.

Remus had pulled himself into an armchair next to a small side table. A lamp was sat on top of the side table. Remus had a book open in his lap. He had one leg pulled up against his chest. You were picking up Regulus to walk him to dinner. You stood next to Regulus' table, staring at Remus. Regulus stood up and joined you at your side.

He watched Remus turn his book page. You slid your hand up Regulus' arm, over his shoulder, and up to his hair. You twirled a curl around your finger as you admired Remus. Regulus moved his hand over your back. He nudged the hem of your shirt up. Regulus pressed his hand against the skin of your hip. You both kept your eyes on Remus, dragging them over every inch of him. Remus glanced up at you. His eyes shot back to his book. He sat frozen, staring down at his page. Remus looked back up slowly, returning your stares. He looked scared if anything. Startled was maybe more accurate but scared felt right. You hummed. You dropped your hand from Regulus' hair to his hand. You pulled him away from the table walking him out of the Library. You and Regulus debriefed later talking about how ridiculously hot Remus was.

Soon after that Regulus sat you down and spilled everything. He caught feelings. Which was against the contract. Regulus apologized over and over again. You comforted him and told him it was nature and you weren't mad at him. You had assumed if someone caught feelings you'd stay friends, but after Regulus' confession he got sour. He gave the cold shoulder and even if you were able to get him to speak to you, he was rude and mean. So you returned his attitude. Insulting each other was the only way you two spoke to each other.

However, Remus was interested in both of you and you were both interested in him. So you both started dating him separately, aware of the other. It was an odd conversation to have with people. Sirius knew first, Regulus spilling it all during their regular catch up times. Sirius first thought Remus was cheating on Regulus with you. Regulus had to stop him from giving Remus a shiner.

In the end though you three were comfortable and that's all that really mattered. You liked dating Remus. You liked lightly bullying Regulus. Remus liked dating you both even if you both seemed to consider homicide everytime you were near each other. Regulus liked dating Remus. He liked threatening to kill you. You and Regulus did hate each other but you both loved how the other made Remus happy so you had a small silent alliance to not kill each other. That didn't stop you from insulting him though.

You were reading In the library, comfy in your armchair. You knew Remus and Regulus had a date later today, so you were perfectly fine with sitting on your own. You were having a lovely time, enjoying the joy your quiet brought you. Until Regulus showed up. He was decked in Remus' sweater, it swallowed him. If you didn't deeply hate him you'd say it he looked cute.

"See you're wearing my boyfriend's sweater." You muttered without looking up from your book. You truly just wished he would get annoyed with you and leave now.

"Our boyfriend, but that's just semantics." Regulus joined you, sitting in the armchair next to yours. You sighed. He doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

"Did you take my suggestion into consideration at all?" You glanced at him out the corner of your eye. Regulus leaned over the small table, proping his head up on his fist. He quirked an eyebrow up.

"What to kill myself?" He asked. You nodded and gave him a bright smile.

"If you can't come up with any ideas, I have some." Regulus rolled his eyes at you. You looked back to your book, maybe he'll leave now? Regulus dropped his hand onto your arm resting on the table.

"I think we should have a genuine serious conversation about our relationship." He was staring at you with a slightly concerning face. You looked at him worried. Regulus stood and pulled his bag further up his shoulder. You rolled your eyes and bookmarked your page. Maybe he wants to kill you less, a small friendship to blossom. You know what they say second times the charm. Close enough. You stood and followed after him. He led you out of the library and outside into the courtyard. Regulus sat down under a tree and looked up at you expectantly. You sighed and sat next to him, leaving a space between you. Regulus stared at you with sad eyes. You sent a glare back.

"I'm really sorry. For everything. I miss you, so much. I miss your friendship. I care for you so deeply, when you leave I feel like flowers with no water. I don't think we should've stopped being friends when I caught feelings. I need your love. I need you." Regulus let out a deep breath when he finished his rant, staring at you so he didn't miss a second of your reaction. You sat there blankly. If he could throw you away so easily the first time what's stopping him from a second time?

"Are you asking me to be your friend again?" Regulus bobbed his head side to side. He groaned at your question and pressed his lips together.

"More so begging you to be my friend again." You sat silently for a moment. You looked off towards the school. Technically speaking, you could run away from him now and never speak to anyone ever again.

"I don't want to be your friend." Regulus' face fell. He sat up straight, fixing his posture and looking around the courtyard. You quickly noticed your phrasing and started speaking again. "I wanted to be more, when you first told me you liked me." Regulus glanced back at you.

"Really?" Regulus whispered. You nodded. He stared at you for a moment. You waited patiently, you felt an even colder shoulder coming your way after this. "I want that too." You looked at him partially shocked before remembering his feelings really started this whole ordeal in the first place. You gave him a soft smile, much to his delight. He made you smile again.

"I'm glad. Although I do believe we'll have to have a conversation with Remus." You added. Regulus nodded and gently intertwined your fingers. You felt your body swarm with a buzzing sensation. You had deeply missed his touch, it was nice to be back. He tilted his head to the side, lightly knocking your forehead with his.

"I would really like to kiss you now." Regulus' words were barely above a breath. You grabbed the front of Remus' his sweater and tugged him forward. You pressed you lips against his. He rested his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. You dropped your hand from his sweater to his knee, pulling it into your lap. Regulus' body was pressed against yours and if he pulled his leg all the way over your lap he'd be straddling you. You nipped at his bottom lip, pulling back for a split second.

"My chapstick will get all over your face." You whispered against him. You knew you'd have to reapply after this.

"Good, I'll taste like you." He pulled you back in, pushing his tongue into your mouth. Kissing him was like nature. It was so easy to fall back into your old habits. If the tree root wasn't pressing into your leg you'd think it was the middle of the night in his bed. It was slightly different this time, it felt more loving. It was in the sunlight, anyone could see, and there was a promise of a relationship behind his lips. You smiled into his kiss, pushing your hand up under his sweater. You heard someone clearing their throat. You both quickly pulled away to look up at the cause. You met your eyes with Remus. You coughed and wiped at your mouth.

"Hey guys." You and Regulus both muttered a hello looking around at anything other than Remus. "This is new" Remus said, gesturing between you two.

"We have decided to put aside our differences." Regulus explained to Remus. Remus chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah I can tell." Remus said. You snorted. Regulus glared at you. You looked away off to the left, avoiding Regulus' eyes. "Alright well up you get, Regulus. We have a date, and darling we will be discussing this later." Remus gently tugged Regulus up by his forearm. Remus pulled Regulus' bag up over his own shoulder, carrying it for Regulus. Remus turned to you and dropped a kiss to your cheek before moving back to Regulus. Regulus linked their elbows together walking off towards their date night. Regulus looked over his shoulder and blew you a kiss. You smiled to yourself, happy to have both of your strange boyfriends.

[jeongintwenty3]

09.17

pairing: lee know x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: lee know being his usual endearing self, but in the morning

warnings: none, i think?

author's note: hi! rey here ♡ thank you so sooo much for giving my last fic so much love!! i appreciate it a lot (: here's another one and please forgive me if it's a mess <3 as usual, feedback is very welcome. please excuse any misspellings or misuse of grammar ): enjoy loves 🌻

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"WHY didn't you text me the whole day my lovely one and only? you better have a good reason for it."

"there goes my supposedly peaceful morning", you mubled to yourself.

beside you stood your adorable boyfriend, having to catch a flight at 5 in order to make it to your sister's baby shower wasn't the most ideal, but again, he'd do anything for his other half.

still half asleep, collecting whatever sanity you have left while looking at the clock, you sighed, "min, i just woke up. it's only 9 in the morning."

"yeah ok, so? my day started at 4 and i was lonely for a good 5 hours my love," he replied while blinking quickly, an act that's very endearing, you have no choice but to give in

sighing for the 3rd time since the last 5 minutes you woke up, you rolled over to the other side of bed; a silent invitation for the man screaming in your ear to come and snuggle since it's still quite early according to your body clock. you know that he's sleep-deprived, so you did hole he'd get the message.

but minho didn't. hell was this a challenge, instead of cocooning your half-awake form, he decided to disturb you. again.

kneeling so his face can be at level with yours, he started to pepper kisses all over: may it be your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, it's safe to say almost 100% of the area got covered with his kisses. on other days, you'd be annoyed and it'll end up a tickle fight or a chase inside the house. but for this particular morning, you decided to savor it, only because you missed him and you had no energy to rebutt his actions.

"are you done?" you managed to squeak out between his loving attacks.

placing a final kiss onto your lips, he replied "yeah, now move." and so you did; you moved onto the other side (or the original position you were in before this man you loved started throwing a tantrum)

he opened his arms and in a heartbeat pulled you into his chest. "i missed you," he blurted out loud. while tiptoeing between the line of unconciousness and being awake, you managed to ask, "really min?"

"mhm", and with that, he attacked you with another round of pecks.

after about 5 minutes or so, he noticed your steady breathing, assuming you were asleep. thinking it was a good idea to meet you in his dreams, he adjusted both of your positions so you could snuggle into his chest with his head on top of yours, your hands on his chest and his encircling your body. he was savoring the moment, as times like these were where he felt really safe and vice versa.

"what did i do to deserve you? i promise, once this whole thing gets settled, i'll be putting a ring on your finger. i'll be the first one you see when you wake up, the one who drives you to and from work, the one who cooks your favorite lambchop, the one who treats you best. i love you. so much," he managed to let it out because he thought the person snuggled into him was knocked out.

luck was clearly not on his side, since you were never really asleep in the first place due to the constant shifting of minho. you managed to smile and look him in the eyes sleepily, while replying, "i love you too, i'll wait for you, min. don't worry, kay?"

a bit taken aback by the one who he thought was asleep, he only giggled and managed to nod.

the both of you really needed this, the warmth from each other, the sweet words and the time. you see, dating a man who has a busy schedule is not that hard. well for some, it may be extremely difficult. but for you? as long as minho showers you with the love you deserve, texts you every now and then, is there for you and wanting to communicate, everything will be okay. he loved you and you loved him, it was the two of you against the world. always.

[derangedanomaly]

been seeing a lot of sanses x reader, so how about something different.

What if the bad sanses and y/n only see eachother as best friends. Like the whole group watch horror movies and give eachother cuddles platonically. The whole group is involved and each person gets along with everyone because Y/N helped with the arguing problems?

So: Y/N sees everyone as a friend, and the Bad sanses see y/n as a friend.

YES! I love this request! (I've had a little too much fun with this 💀) sorry if it's not like how you imagined it, I just played with this idea a bit. It's not every day you see a platonic request.

Masterlist

READER BEING THE BAD SANSES BEST FRIEND (PLATONIC)

(Nightmare, Dust, Killer, Horror, Error)

Safe to say that you were truly in one hell of a ride. Everyday was a rollercoaster with the Bad Sanses. Let's go over some moments together, shall we?

1# The Coffee machine

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

You jolted up awake at the sound of arguing from downstairs. Looks like the boys were roundhousing again..

You groaned as you made your way down the stairs. "Guys? What-" your eyes widened as you saw a chair barely missing your face. Dust turned to you in alarm. "Oh my god.. What are you doing standing there!? Help us!" You blinked when you heard those words, but had no time to say anything as you were pulled by Killer. "OK! OK! Y/N. This is really bad.." you looked at Killer tiredly. "Killer. What did you do?!" Killer flashed you a shocked look, dramatically gasping. "I cannot believe that you just accused me of this horrible tragedy!" "He broke the..coffee machine." Horror snitched on Killer as all the chatter went mute.

Killer slowly turned to Horror. "Horror...you snitch.. why did you have to say it so loudly?" You snorted a little, along with Dust who looked like he could lose it any time soon. "Oh, you're royally fucked Killer." Was your last sentence before going back to bed, as Nightmare dragged Killer.

"AHHH! NIGHTMARE WAIT!!! W-WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS-" He yelled, as he was thrown in the air. "Too late."

2# FAILED SLEEPOVER

You laid in bed as you giggled. "Ok ok..so.. there's this person that I like-" you began, but Killer gasped. "Oh my god! Guys, guys! It's happening!" They all got closer to you, smiling like idiots. "Come on! Who's it? Are they nice??" Dust also nudged you as your cheeks started turning red.

You were about to start blabbering about them, until Nightmare scared the shit out of you all. "Why the fuck are you all up?! Go to sleep! I swear...I won't agree the next time y'all ask me about a sleepover..." You all sighed in annoyance. Damn, does this guy have zero knowledge of what it means to have fun? You laid on your side, closing your eyes, and about to fall asleep, until you felt Nightmare poke you softly. "..tell me about the special person later...I wanna know if they're good enough for you.."

3# Lacking Discipline

You and the boys successfully snuck in Nightmare's room. Tiptoeing towards his bed, along with quiet giggles. "Ok.. remember, we have to be quiet." You nodded at Dust's words, shooting looks at Killer. "Whaaat?" You playfully rolled your eyes at his antics.

You reached forward, and pulled Nightmare's sheets away from his boney face, as you gestured to Dust and Killer. They creepily smiled, holding their red markers.

Killer just finished his last line at Nightmare's mess of a face, when you saw Nightmare stirr in his sleep. It looks like he's about to wake up! You silently gasped, pushing Killer to the floor, and taking Horror's hand in the process.

Killer almost yelled when you shoved him to the floor. "Hey! Dust...!" He flashed him a pleading look, silently asking him for help. Dust just showed him a peace sign and teleported out of the room. "YOU BACKSTABBING BITCHES!!" Killer didn't realized that he raised his voice, out of frustration, until Nightmare stood behind him with a menacing glare.

Your friendship dynamic between them:

Nightmare:

Him: Doesn't want to let anyone get close to him.

You: Got close to him 💀

Dust:

Him: Sunshine protector

You: Sunshine

Killer:

Him: A dumbass

You: Also a dumbass, but smarter

Horror:

Him: Mom (Dad) friend

You: The reckless idiot

Error:

Him: Can't spell

You: Mocks his typos

Incorrect quotes:

1:

Y/N: Between Dust, Error, Nightmare, and Killer -- if you had to -- who would you punch?

Horror: No one! They're my friends. I wouldn't punch any of them.

Y/N: Killer?

Horror: Yeah, but I don't know why.

2:

Y/N: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch.

Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with.

Y/N: Lmao, @Nightmare.

3:

Y/n: They don’t make them like me no more. I’m the last of my kind.

Error: Thank god.

4:

Horror: Good night.

Y/n: Sleep tight.

Dust: Don't let the bedbugs crawl up to your ear and whisper threatening things that make you question yourself.

Nightmare: Great, now Killer's crying.

5:

Dust: I wish I was a cat, but not in a furry kinda way, more like a “I can sleep all day and hit people with no consequences” kinda way.

6:

Error: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to his chest*

Y/N: We have a soul?

Horror: A soul? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

7:

Y/n: I am going to cry. I’m going to cry until I can no longer physically cry anymore because all the water in my body is gone and I die from dehydration.

Killer: Are you okay?

Dust: Did you actually just ask them that? Like, you need that to be answered otherwise you won’t know?

8:

Dust: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

Error: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

Horror: Wasps?

Nightmare: Terriers?

Killer: Y/n.

9:

Nightmare: You have to apologize to Y/N!

Killer: Fine!

Killer: Unfuck you, or whatever!

10:

Dust: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Killer: The cow??

Horror: What?

Y/n: Killer, W H Y?

Short Headcanons:

Dust likes to share his notes he made about some Au's with you, because you find it interesting.

Killer goes to you for flirting advice, no matter how good (or bad) your flirts are.

Dust likes to scare you by popping up in front of you. (He likes your reaction)

Horror will steal your food quite frequently.

Nightmare has strictly put up a poster on his office, that's forbidding you to go in.

Error shares his popcorn with you when y'all watch movies.

It takes a long time before your movie night starts, and that's just because you're all arguing on what to watch.

Y'all aren't much up for cuddling, as a group... Aside from Killer and Horror.

I don't know, maybe I'll do part two. I really liked this request by the way. Have a nice day/night!! :D