#and Ed made choices too

[tresdem]

Because like the thing is for me, Izzy saying that he loves Ed isn't enough. With the caveat that it takes two to tango and that this is a complex situation where blame is not pinned on one person... Izzy already made it really clear that he serves/loves Blackbeard, not Edward. So while Izzy, to Ed's mind, might love him, he only loves Ed for Blackbeard. That's the only thing he sees. The truth of it is deeper than that for Izzy of course, but Izzy made an over threat that that is who he loves, that is who he respects. Combining that with Stede freaking out over Ed not being Blackbeard anymore (even subtly) and that's what Ed is left with. Blackbeard/the Kraken is all that's left. All that anyone cares about. But the part that is Ed...not worth loving.

[echoingkarma]

Hint of Bunny lore and a slight redesign to pull the colours and such back to match the rest of the Welcome Home cast!

Template by @fetusmeme

Reblogs are appreciated!

[knowlesian]

honestly i am in love with how stede and ed are Our Heroes but they’re also middle aged men with unhappy lives behind them, people they have hurt either inadvertently or on purpose, and mistakes so large they can’t just pretend they never happened and move it on along.

stede was an emotionally unavailable husband, and a father who abandoned his children without saying goodbye; ed took the damage the world threw at him and made up things like the no pets rule.

we’re not supposed to write them off for those past sins. we know why and how they were damaged young, and we know trauma ground in early feels like normalcy and makes the coping skills needed to get through it that much harder to move beyond. but we’re not supposed to excuse them and create a narrative where there was never any other choice and they literally had to do harmful things, either; they had other choices, and they made these choices. 

instead, it’s a lot more hopeful.

they made these choices and the world damaged them in these ways. they’ve gone where they’ve gone; they are where they are and who they are, and neither one of them are happy because of it.

so: the only thing left to do if they actually want to change it up is make new choices; admit their mistakes and face their flaws and love each other anyway, honestly, without excuses or condemnation.

[winchestersickness]

If I remembered how to write I'd write something about Sam developing an eating disorder earlier in life as a way to gain some kind of sense of belonging to himself (since he's been othered in every other aspect of his life), and how that has lingered throughout his entire life and has came back with a bang after the demon blood revelation at the end of season 2 plus the whole loss of body autonomy he experiences later on, this time also has a way to feel some type of agency towards his body and his decisions

[drunktuesdays]

everyone is fucking but no one is horny

one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.

and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.

but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

[eddieandbird]

Home to you—

Eddie comes home drunk to you.

A/N: missed you guys so much! sorry for dipping in and out so often, but i’ve been really into bridgerton lately and i’ve been only wanting to talk about that. howerver i did conjure up this h*rny little story for eddie, so i hope yall enjoy! -Bird

tags/warnings: 2.7k words | f!reader | boyfriend!eddie | drunk sex | consent checks | f*ngering | pinv | praise kink + nicknames

—

You heard keys jingle at your front door just a few feet outside the bedroom. Your boyfriend was finally home

“Guess who’s back,” Eddie teasingly whispered, trying not to wake you if you were already asleep.

“Is it Eddie?” You deeply inhaled and stretched your arms, your voice was low and sleepy.

Eddie fell into bed with you, his whole weight causing to shake it. You gave a delirious laugh, still waking up.

“You guessed right, sweetheart,” He said before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in from behind.

“You’re such a smart girl,” Eddie cooed in your ear before running his hands on your stomach and along the waistband of your panties.

“Someone sounds like they had a good time at Gareth’s birthday party,”

Eddie smiled, burying his face in your hair and laughing a bit at the comment.

“I did,” Eddie pulled you closer and nuzzled into your neck, softly kissing as he spoke. “But I’m glad to have my girl back in bed with me.”

You hummed before you pulled up his hand to kiss his palm.

“Mm. Happy you’re home too baby. I don’t know if I’m totally thrilled that you’re hammered, but-“

“Relax, I got a ride home,” Eddie mumbled. His small kisses along your neck was driving you wild.

“Okay, good. At least you made some responsible choices,” You joked.

“I am responsible,” Eddie grinned, his breath warm against your skin.

As you two spoke, Eddie's hand began to trail lower and lower down your stomach. He stopped once he reached your thighs before he gently gripped the soft flesh.

"I can't believe you weren't out with me,” Eddie muttered against your neck.

“I couldn’t help but think about you all night” He whispered.

The tone of his voice sounded sweet in your ear despite his alcohol-fueled state.

“Is that right?” You giggled. “What were you thinking about?” Your voice was quiet but lustful.

Eddie’s fingers slowly teased the lace on your skin, lightly tracing the outline of your thong. His touch was already turning you into mush. Your heat radiated through the thong you wore, the more his fingers trailed around it, Eddie smirked, enjoying the way it made you shiver.

“I was thinking about-” he began as he pulled your body closer to him until you could feel the heat of his breath along your ear.

“The way you sound when I’m on top of you. The way your skin tastes when I kiss every part of you,” He growled.

You let out a soft moan as he repeatedly kissed along your jaw, catching a couple kisses on your lips in the process of turning back to him.

“You sure you’re up for this, baby? It sounded like you stumbled into the room. You might be too drunk,” You said with slight concern, but you also knew what he wanted and you were not in the mood to turn him down.

Eddie laughed a bit. “I’m not too drunk, baby. I've missed you,” he slurred.

He could feel himself getting worked up just being next to you. You could feel him pressing up against your backside.

“You feel that,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Your breathing hitched as you felt his length through the denim of his jeans. He pressed it right against the curve of your ass.

“Of course I feel it,” you scoffed, jokingly.

“That’s all for you,” Eddie started to grind himself against you, his hips slowly rolling into you. “Want you so bad,” He started to breathe heavily against you.

The way he slurred his words would typically annoy you, but they were so endearing when he was whispering dirty nothings into your ear.

“You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna give me what I want?” He huffed as he worked at you.

“Mhm. Whatever you want, baby,” You said with desire.

Eddie gently rolled you onto your back so he could hover over you.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispered, taking a quick second to admire your body. “So gorgeous,” he added as he started to run his hands up and down your thighs.

“You going to be a good girl then? Give me.. a show,” he teased.

“What else do you wanna see?” Your eyes twinkled at him as you pushed one strap off your shoulder.

Your perspective lit flames on your skin. You saw nothing but his big, dark eyes surrounded in his black curls falling down towards you. Eddie watched hungrily as you bared more of your skin for him to look at. His eyes were hazy as he stared back at yours.

Your soft, but quickened breaths filled the air as took the hem of your tank top and lifted it over your head, putting your chest on display for him.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Eddie groaned, starting to run one of his hands up your legs. He started to run one of his hands up your leg. He could feel the heat of your skin through the silk of your panties as he placed his thumb over it

“Eddie,” You gasped as you felt him tracing around your clit.

“Such a sweet girl,” His finger continued to rub over you, feeling the way your skin got hotter as he applied more pressure. “Missed me that badly?” He whispered before pressing his thumb harder against the spot of wetness. He could feel himself growing harder just listening to the sounds you made. His eyes flicked from your face, to your chest and your shaking legs as he slowly pressed his thumb harder. He could feel how worked up you were, but he still wanted you to hold on and wait for it.

“You’re so needy,” he muttered in your ear with a smirk while rubbing his thumb in small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. His dark eyes continued to drink in the sight of you.

“Isn’t that what you wanted when you came in?” You smiled wide, your eyelids heavy as you bucked your hips up into his touch. The fabric now heavily soaked now as he rolled over your aching center. Eddie groaned in response to watching you writhe under him, his eyes still taking in the sight of you while holding you firmly in place with one of his broad hands.

“Maybe a little,” Eddie admitted with a lustful grin. “You want more don’t you?” He teased before leaning down to place open mouthed kisses on your neck, his hot tongue running along your skin.

You shuddered against him, trying your hardest to let him lead you. His pace was torturous but it’s just how you liked it.

“Mhm… I need it,” You nodded and smiled wickedly, your voice stuttering.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Eddie groaned.

He let his thumb go, the absence of the touch making you feel even more strung out.

His hands gripped your underwear and started to pull them down painfully slowly as his dark eyes watched you.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he exhaled shakily.

You felt his warm breath surround your legs and your aching center as he dragged the silk underwear down your legs. Your eyes were wide with anticipation as he pawed at your legs.

You couldn’t help but squirm under his touch, desperately wanting more friction between you two. He sat up and spread your legs apart, giving him a full view of you in the moonlight.

“So eager for me,” he teased, the corner of his lip tugging up in a smirk as he ran his hand up your thigh and towards your heat. “Tell me that’s all for me,” He muttered.

“It’s all for you, babe. I’m all yours,” You whispered back, your hips involuntarily lifting as you felt his fingers dragging upwards toward your core. Your hands were placed down at your sides, clawing at your bedsheets.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned as he teased with a smirk before finally running his thumb down between your slit.

He felt the heat and the wetness against his skin, your reaction making him groan louder than he intended to.

“So wet for me,” Eddie muttered before leaning down and placing gentle kisses on your inner thighs. His eyes flicking between watching your face twisted in pleasure

“All yours, Eddie,” You mused.

Your breaths would rise and fall with his touches. The further his touch was from your sensitive button, the softer the moans, only growing with intensity as he got closer. You can feel yourself growing impatient, but you knew to claim the prize, you had to play his game.

You curiously put a hand on his, seeing if he’d let you control the pace of things.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as your hand covered his, and let you push his fingers towards where you wanted them with a lazy grin.

“So impatient, baby,” he teased, watching the hand under his, move with it as he reached the spot you desperately wanted him to touch.

You looked up at him, trying to keep your eyes open as you led his hand to rub in just the way you liked. You could tell he wanted to stare back at you, but all he was looking at was how inviting your pussy was, now spilling out love onto the sheets. Watching you make yourself feel good by guiding his touch had him mesmerized.

“My pretty girl. So desperate to be touched,” he breathed, his smirk turning into a mischievous grin as his fingers started to move a bit quicker, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves in tight circles.

“You’re so hot like this,” he let out a deep growl as he watched you and continued to work on undoing you while his other hand grabbed at your hip to keep you still.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” Eddie groaned in your ear, his pace increasing slightly, desperate to see you fall apart.

“You see how much I need you?” Your words were ladened with desire between small gasps.

You knew you were getting close to a peak. You gripped around his wrist, making him hold his pace as you were reaching climax.

“I see it, baby,” Eddie mimicked your tone, his gaze never leaving you as he watched you get closer and closer to the edge.

He could see how close you were, the way your body was tensing and you were desperately biting down on your lip.

His pace stayed steady as he watched you, his heart racing from the thought of pleasing you.

“Let go for me, pretty girl,” he muttered, groaning just thinking about it.

“Shit!” You hissed.

With one great thrust of your hips you climaxed against his rough fingers. The once quiet room now echoed back your moan as you came, riding out on his fingers as you went back down.

You laid there in front of him, slightly limp and completely helpless. You giggled briefly before catching your breath.

“Thank you, baby,” You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles, looking up at him in adoration.

“Of course, baby,” he cooed, his dark eyes looking down at you.

He moved on top of you, his hands going down to the denim on his hips as he started to unbutton them. “You ready for more?”

“Do you even need to ask?” You laughed some more, your eyes following him as he took off his clothes.

Your breath hitched to see just how hard he was, practically springing out as he shoved off his boxers.

“Oh god, I need you,” You whispered almost inaudibly.

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he heard you.

“Say that again,” Eddie muttered, his voice quiet as he hovered above you, his body pressed into yours.

His eyes searched yours as he settled in between your thighs, placing one hand by your head as the other started to trace down your body. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I need you inside me,” You shivered, feeling his hands run over your curves.

The heat between both of your legs couldn’t be ignored. You could feel him twitch against your soft entrance, just waiting for him to slip it in. Eddie groaned and closed his eyes as he listened to you, already breathless from the anticipation. His hips buckled against you a bit and he shuddered as he felt the heat between your legs against the tip of him.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he groaned before kissing you again.

You moaned back into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as you felt him enter you. He went at an achingly slow pace, but the sensations were too good to complain. His strokes would go all the way out before pumping fast and deep inside you. It drove you mad.

“It-You… You feel good,” You struggled to even comment.

Your eyes were rolling back into your head with each thrust. Eddie grinned at the small compliments, his eyes staying locked on yours as he continued to thrust into you. He watched as your eyes grew heavy and you almost lost your words.

“Can’t even talk anymore, baby?” Eddie’s eyes clenched shut for a moment as your legs surrounded his waist. He groaned at the words that came out of your mouth but he had no intentions on stopping.

He leaned down to kiss you again, the kiss was sloppy and wet as his pace began to quicken. His hand grabbed your thigh, keeping it against him as he picked up the pace.

“You’re such a good girl, taking it all for me,” Eddie said frantically between grunts. His quickened pace only meant one thing. He was going to finish soon.

“Where do you want me to come?” He asked in a trembling breath.

“Where do you want to come? I want you to have what you want,” You said before kissing his forehead, a small moment of affection during the rough, heightened experience. It was as if he could feel himself growing closer with each word and breath that came out of your mouth.

“Inside you,” He declared in a grunt. “I wanna fill you,” The words left his lips before he could even think it through, but the sight of you beneath him, breathless and all

“Go ahead, baby. You can do it,” You said with lustful encouragement.

Your legs wrapped around him tighter as he was rutting against you. Your hand brought his head down to you and brushed away his messy curls. Once you saw his neck you started to suck at the sensitive area right below his jaw. He shuddered at the touch of your lips on his sensitive skin, breathing in deeply as you sucked.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his head tilting back as his breathing became heavier. His body was tensing up, desperate to come undone, but he waited just a moment longer. “You going to come too?” He said, breathless.

“Uh huh,” You mimicked his volume, as you tugged lightly at his hair. He pinned you down pretty well, but there was still space for you to roll your hips up into him and so you did it, knowing it’d be the end of him. Eddie couldn’t keep himself together any longer as he felt your hips roll up into him.

His breath hitched and caught in the back of his throat as his pace slowed, his body tensing up just a little bit more.

Then, after one more roll of your hips, he finally caved. He buried his head against you as you both came, groaning loudly as his hips gave a few sharp thrusts, riding his way through it.

He tried to catch his breath as he laid on top of you, taking a few moments before he pulled away to look at you while panting slightly.

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, affectionately running his hand along your jaw.

“Oh everything is perfect,” You exhaled happily.

Eddie let a goofy smile take over his face, and laid down next to you, pulling you into his side as he settled in next to you. Soon you were off back to sleep.

[lovebugism]

grinding against virgin!eddie cock until he cums. skin to skin.

i love a good sinful request hahah hope you like it angel! — the one where you ride eddie for the first time (new-ish relationship, l-bomb, smut 18+, 1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

A summer breeze billows through an opened window. The evening air cools your burning, bare skin when it kisses your sweat-slicked bodies. It feels almost like silk. Nowhere near as soft as you are.

Eddie sits on the edge of his bed while you ride him. You’re made exactly of velvet and honey as you roll your hips in rhythmic motions over his thighs. Your warm cunt sucks him impossibly further in and in and in.

The slick drooling from your pulsating walls drenches his aching cock and the bushy thatch of pubic hair below it. You grow somehow tighter every time your sensitive clit drags across the coarse patch of his happy trail. You tilt your head back and exhale a gentle moan at the ceiling — as pretty as a wolf howling at the moon. 

Eddie so desperately wants to kiss the newly displayed skin of your neck. His lips ache to suckle at the tendons you bear to him, to find your racing pulse point and bite you softly there. He might’ve —  if only he could tear his eyes away from you for a fraction of a second.

This isn’t the first time he’s fucked you, but it’s the first time you’ve been on top of him like this.

His chest swells with the same burning pleasure you gave him the first time he slipped inside you. His cock is equally as sensitive, though maybe more so with the newfound sensation of the steady rise and fall of your velvety cunt.

His hands are still as unsure of themselves. They fidget with the urge to hug you tightly to him, though he's distantly fearful of touching such art at the same time.

You notice it rather quickly — the way his fingers idle on the outsides of your knee in a featherlight touch. 

You can tell he wants to touch you, that he just doesn’t know how to.

He’s still scared of making the wrong move with you, still feeling the need to impress you in some way. Unsure of how he got you in the first place, he’s worried his inadequacy will ultimately lead to his heartache.

“You don’t have to be afraid to touch me, Eds,” you tell him, breathless, as you sink down to the base of his cock.

You still and linger there, exhaling a gentle moan from your nose at the combined feeling of him twitching inside you and your delicate button rolling across his lap.

Eddie feels close to exploding, both at how good you feel and how overwhelmed you’re making him.

Your trembling hands rise from his shoulders to cup his jaw. Your thumb swipes over his flushed skin as you force him to keep his eyes on you.

Your heavy-lidded stare pierces somewhere deep in his soul, a bolt of blue lightning he can feel down to his sensitive, bulbous head. 

He wants to move, but his brain short circuits. You’ve effectively paralyzed him, it seems.

“C’mon…” you lilt when you notice him hesitating. A wavering smile quirks the edges of your swollen, kiss-bitten mouth. 

Even though you’re not moving, you’re still suffocated by your own pleasure. He’s reaching a whole different angle inside you with this new position you’re in. You have no choice but to feel him everywhere. 

“Touch me, Eddie… Need to feel you…”

Eddie’s never denied you of anything before. He’d be an idiot to start now.

With uncertain hands, he reaches for your waist. His palms are wide and warm as they settle there, pale palms smoothing over your skin and holding firmly at the soft pudge on your sides.

Even with his stern grip, his touch is not the least bit directing of you. His hands are obediently still — all-consuming with the love he holds within them.

The feeling of him in such an innocent way makes you sigh a pretty moan.

A pathetic whine sounds from Eddie’s throat when your velvet walls clench around him. He doesn’t have too long now — not with how intently you’re gripping his sensitive cock. 

He grits his teeth and leans his head his back, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to fend off his inevitable orgasm. 

It’s damn near impossible, he finds. He can feel you everywhere.

You’re on his dick and drenching his lap. Your damp skin presses against his, the slick between you all but adhering you to him. Your hands feel like slinking vines as they leave his jaw to curl into his hair. Your fingers twist in the sweaty tendrils at the back of his neck. 

He feels the lightning strike of your touch in a tingle that shoots down his spine. Or perhaps it’s the growing need to fill you with everything he’s got to give.

Now, you’re the one that can’t stop looking at him.

His lips are pinker than usual with how keenly you’ve kissed them. The color pairs so nicely with the red splotching his pale skin — the apples of his cheeks, his jaw, the bottom of his neck, and the top of his chest.

You get too easily distracted by how pretty he is to worry about your own pleasure. 

Your clit swells with every pass over his lap, but you can only think about making him feel good. You don’t want him to stop making such pretty little noises for you.

You want to hear him moan for you when he comes. You want to feel him shake like a leaf beneath you when you keep riding him through his high. You want to hear him beg you to stop when he gets too sensitive to function properly.

Surely, that isn’t too much to ask.

You need Eddie to come more than you need it for yourself.

With a knowing smirk hinting at the edges of your lip, you roll your hips over his thighs once more and clench tighter around him. A soft sigh spills from your mouth at the feeling of his cock quivering within your delicate walls. 

Your smile grows when it makes Eddie moan, though it sounds more like a feeble sob in his chest.

“Doing so good for me, Eds,” you whisper as you drag your hips back again. You bring them forward a moment later, not stilling until your stomach is pressed against the soft pudge of his. “Making me feel so good.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.

“Why?” you wonder with a breathless giggle.

“‘Cause it’s gonna make me come…”

“What if I want you to?”

His closed eyes squeeze further shut as a whine sounds in his throat, muffled through his clenched jaw.

Your hips fall slowly over his thighs again at a pace as steady as it is slow. They come forward again, unrushed and undemanding. The way you still and clench around him is obviously measured. It pushes him closer to the edge.

“You’re always so pretty for me when you come,” you confess, voice wavering as your own orgasm creeps up your spine. “Always makes me come so hard…”

Eddie whines again, louder this time, as he buries his face in your shoulder. He seeks solace there, with his nose smushed against your damp skin. He hides his moans there, too.

Your pace quickens over his lap, and he groans into your neck. Spurred on by his pretty sounds and his hands rising up your back, you keen and wrap your arms around his neck. 

The two of you hug each other in a rather sinful embrace.

You bury your nose into his wild curls and push through the burning orange embers simmering in your clit and the pit of your stomach.

Eddie holds you tightly against him while his cock trembles relentlessly inside your satin walls, like he’s drowning in an ocean of pleasure and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat.

That’s what it feels like, anyway.

That’s what it feels like to be with you, too — in ways more innocent than this wicked one. 

He’s too often lost, too innocent in his way. Still stuck in his boyhood, he rarely ever feels good enough — for life, for you.

He gravitates to you like a focal point, a reminder that he’s still alive when he feels like life is strangling him. 

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve to feel as good as you make him feel. 

His chest swells with the very thought. It’s an empty, wet feeling that makes him feel like he might cry. And, god, what an idiot he’d be to get all emotional the first time his girlfriend rides him.

He can’t help it, though. He’s a lucky schmuck who managed to woo you into his bed — he’s owed a small sob of victory, he figures.

“Fucking love you like this,” Eddie babbles into your neck, fueled by his impending orgasm. “Love fucking you, baby… Love you all the time... Love you so fucking much, you know that? I fucking love you.”

Even though you’re distantly shocked by his words, you don’t stop riding him. You don’t plan on stopping until he’s begging you to.

You figure he’s too pussy drunk to understand what he’s saying, to know how meaningful his words really are. But he keeps on saying them — “Love you. I love you. I love you so goddamn much—”

Maybe he’s too overwhelmed by his impending orgasm, and his brain has short-circuited accordingly. Maybe he really does love you, and it took a good fucking to finally tell you.

You’re not quite sure.

You’ll ask him about it when all this is over — when his cock is softening on his thigh and his come is seeping out of you while he holds you in his arms. 

But for now, you press your cheek against his burning one and whisper in his ear. “I love you, too.”

[babydollmarauders]

TWIN HUGHES — LUKE HUGHES

part of the luke’s gf au !

dolly.notparton

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, and 56,827 others

dolly.notparton life the past 9 months…. thank you for sharing your birthday @/jackhughes 🤍 pretty sweet of you

Comments on this post are limited

jackhughes not like i had a choice, the twins were coming out whether i wanted to share a birthday or not

dolly.notparton i spent the last 9 months of my life making your presents, you could at least act thankful!

jackhughes do they come with a receipt?

dolly.notparton THATS YOUR NIECE AND NEPHEW YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE!

jackhughes wtf is a swine?

dolly.notparton god you should’ve gone to college

dylanduke25 TWIN! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!

dolly.notparton oh my god, they can say that and MEAN IT! DYLAN YOURE A GENIUS!

edwards.73 i don’t think anyone has ever said that about duker and meant it

dolly.notparton @/edwards.73 be nice to my dyl pickle

edwards.73 i’d be a lot nicer if you didn’t give me ammo by calling him things like “dyl pickle”

lhughes_06 so grateful for this little family we’ve created ❤️

dolly.notparton i l*ve you <3

lhughes_06 did you just censor the word “love”?

dolly.notparton maybe you would get the uncensored version if you hadn’t left your extremely pregnant girlfriend for hockey? idk, just a thought

jackhughes get him dolly!

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes stay out of this

_quinnhughes dolly and her dolls 🩷💙 i’m so happy for you guys. i know you’ll make amazing parents

dolly.notparton quinny, i love you tremendously. hurry up and finish in the playoffs so you can meet your niece and nephew 🤍

_quinnhughes i love you too but i’m not “hurrying” anything, i’ve got the cup in mind

dolly.notparton so you hate me and my children

_quinnhughes that’s not at all what i just said

dolly.notparton i can guarantee that’s exactly what you just said

lhughes_06 please don’t fight her on this, she’s tired and just pushed out two babies and i know she’ll find a way to be angry at me about this too

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 so i should fight her on this? heard. @/dolly.notparton check your texts

elblue6 my babies and my grandbabies 💗

dolly.notparton love you mama el!! can’t wait for you to come see the twins!

curtislazar95 god help us, they’re multiplying

dolly.notparton maybe i’ll make a whole hockey team of them

curtislazar95 20 sarcastic poodle haired bambi skaters with insatiable appetites

john.marino97 congratulations, guys! i’m happy to hear it was a happy and healthy birth story

dolly.notparton they’ll love their uncle johnny because he’s a twin just like them 🤍

john.marino97 i can teach them all about being a twin

lhughes_06

liked by njdevils, nhl, and 64,291 others

lhughes_06 Milo Oliver Hughes; May 14th 2024, 3:16pm

Luella Grace Hughes; May 14th 2024, 3:20pm

tagged dolly.notparton

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dolly.notparton we made those

lhughes_06 fuck yeah we did! we did fantastic!

dolly.notparton and jack tries to say i can’t cook!

jackhughes because you can’t. you burned water. HOW DO YOU BURN WATER?

dolly.notparton @/jackhughes do you see what i cooked up inside of me?! you cried when you saw them!

jackhughes that was between us!

dolly.notparton @/jackhughes and now it’s between us and luke’s 185k followers and probably all of twitter! 🫶

user72 ARE YOU TELLING ME SHE’S BEEN PREGNANT FOR NINE MONTHS AND NONE OF US NOTICED?!

user93 OH MY GOD! LUKE’S A DILF

liked by dolly.notparton

markestapa SHOW ME THE BABIES!

lhughes_06 if you’d check the groupchat for once, you’d see the babies

markestapa oh

markestapa OH THEY’RE SO CUTE! YOU GUYS DID GOOD

lhughes_06 thanks stop sign! 🛑

edwards.73 congrats guys 🤝

lhughes_06 thanks eds 🤝

dolly.notparton this is a birth announcement not a damn frat party photo dump, you guys could add some hearts or at least a damn smiley face!

edwards.73 @/dolly.notparton no 🤝

dawson1417 congratulations! can’t wait to meet them next season!

njdevils gift basket coming your way! 👀congratulations!

user20 TWINS 🥹🫶

rutgermcgroarty swimmers be swimming

lhughes_06 🏊‍♂️🏊‍♂️

dolly.notparton do guys think or do they just do?

user85 so not only is luke the youngest hughes brother, but he’s also the only one in a long-term relationship and the first one to have kids… jack and quinn better step it up

user03 they kept this a secret for nine months and then really just pulled a “SURPRISE!” on us?! he played hockey all the way up until the birth— they dropped NO hints

nhl congratulations luke and y/n!

_quinnhughes proud of you two and how much you’ve grown ❤️ not little kids chasing each other around with bugs and porcelain dolls anymore, are ya?

lhughes_06 nope, all grown up. in the league with 2 kids now! thanks bro

dolly.notparton not my fault he was scared of my dolls! have i mentioned that he made me get rid of them when i moved in?

_quinnhughes @/dolly.notparton once or twice a day, yeah

dolly.notparton those were my babies 💔

lhughes_06 @/dolly.notparton i just gave you 2 new babies… the real kind

dolly.notparton luke, you genius! i can get luella porcelain dolls!

lhughes_06 @/dolly.notparton NO! THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT!

_quinnhughes @/dolly.notparton look in the attic when you get home 😉

lhughes_06 THOSE DEMON THINGS HAVE BEEN UP THERE THE WHOLE TIME?!

[ihavethedreamies]

Second Choice | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.3k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad),  Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

I barely proofread this and none of my stories are Beta-ed so hopefully its not too messy...

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sighed. 2:38 am. It was much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you knew there was no way you could fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn't nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you were sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You had to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He was sleeping with the door open so his cat could come and go. Byeol was sleeping in the armchair and you were jealous that he could do so in peace. San was staying in Wooyoung's room while he was gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you were home alone. It freaked you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you and you were a bit reluctant to agree but did so. It wasn't that you weren't close with San, you were, since Wooyoung was your roommate, it was just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, your dog was snoring away in her bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She was so sweet, but she was a husky and therefore made the bed way too hot for her to lay with you. Every so often you would have really bad nightmares and would normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she wasn't there, so you had to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good was on.

"Why are you up?" San's voice startled you, and you spun around again to look at where he was coming from behind you. Your dog's soft snores stopped, but she didn't even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

"Nightmare." You shrugged, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

"Couldn't go back to sleep?" His eyes were almost closed and his hair was mussed up. He had worn a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar was very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you could see most of his toned chest. By that point, you were used to it, but that didn't mean you weren't tempted to ogle him.

"No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with (S/N), but…" You shrugged again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you felt antsy under his gaze.

"What about Cookie?”

"She's too warm…" You both sat in silence for a good minute or two and you tried to just watch the TV. It seemed he was thinking.

"Um, I'm going to use the bathroom…Do you…Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung's bed with me?"

"No! I…I mean…" You cleared your throat.

"I…That's fine, but would you mind…using my bed?" You could NOT sleep in Wooyoung's bed, especially with San. You were willing to try anything at that point, feeling exhausted, and you really needed sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

"Yeah, be right back." He flashed a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, your mouth dry, nervous, you shut the TV off, but hesitated to get up. When he came back out, you finally forced yourself up and you led him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, your light strip around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

"You need that off?" you asked him, pointing at the lights.

"No." He moved toward your bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undid the robe, acting like you were naked underneath. After it fell, you dashed to get under the covers, embarrassed about your thin top and your lack of bra. Gently, he got on the other side and you laid down stiffly, flinching when he pulled the blanket over himself, then higher up on you. Your face heated and since you had no makeup on, you were sure he could see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" San's voice was very soft and you felt like crying. You weren't for sure if you were just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turned on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand was already up between your two pillows. Your hand shook a bit, reaching for him, and he gave you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He wasn't the biggest of the friend group, but he was still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

"I'm right here, you can go to sleep." He whispered and you let your eyes close, hoping he couldn't see the tears hanging on your lashes. It was still taking you a while to actually fall asleep, laying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At that point, you were more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San was always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He was sweet and was always careful to make sure you weren't too uncomfortable. You knew, deep down, he probably liked you, but you just ignored the idea. It was like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister was in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung liked your sister, you liked Wooyoung, and San liked you. You knew Wooyoung liked your sister, but he had no chance in hell. Your sister was enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they weren't an actual couple is because she was in denial, afraid of commitment, and didn't like feeling feelings.

Still being mostly awake, you had to make sure and hold completely still when you barely felt his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You heard and felt him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to go far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you could, you tensed further when he lightly pressed a kiss to your forehead. You bit the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settled, you didn't open your eyes till you could tell he was asleep from the way his breathing changed. Blearily, you looked over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand was still just as secure in yours. You wondered what time it was, and as you did, sleep slowly overcame you as well.

When you woke up in the morning, your bed was empty next to you and could hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

"Slow down, you'll end up throwing up." You heard San scolding her and when you rolled over to get out of bed, the clock read 11:47.

"Shit!" You sat up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and a maxi dress over. Your hair was messy in its braid, but once you took it out, your hair fell in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thumped on the hardwood floor as you jogged down the hall.

"Sorry I slept so late!" You called to him, he was resting against the kitchen counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

"It's okay!" He assured and you dashed past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It was good you worked from home.

"I think it was because I fell asleep so late!" The only reason he heard you was because he had followed after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you started getting pins and thread out.

"When do you have to go practice?" San was a dance instructor and it was extremely convenient that his studio was just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

"Three." He got up, turning the chair around so he could sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huffed, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it fell in your view again. Grumbling, you grabbed your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you were doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you could hear his steps on the wood floor; you were able to prevent a flinch when his fingers found your hair. Kneeling behind where you were to get the right height, you forced yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braided your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabbed a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

"Thanks." You murmured, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hoped your head was bowed enough he couldn't see your red cheeks.

"What do you want for lunch?" You tried to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hummed and you could hear the chair roll an inch when he sat back down. Him watching you didn't faze you before, but his gaze felt like fire on your back.

"Pizza?"

"Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time." You waved toward your device on the desk next to you.

"Code?"

"Same as the front door."

He typed in the number and you heard it click open and he tapped away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focused on where his partially unbuttoned shirt was tucked into his pants. You had hemmed that pair of jeans so he didn't have to pin them tighter anymore.

"Use the 3033 card?"

"Yes."

"Twenty-three minutes." He told you, placing the order then went and sat back down.

"How much?"

"Like eighteen."

"Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?" you asked, motioning behind you toward your thread storage. He rolled over and you heard shuffling, keeping your hand out so he could rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he had gotten out of the chair and sat on the floor next to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily or fall off, so I'm having to fasten them differently." You deftly and quickly started your task and he marveled at how fast you did it. Tying the thread off, you stuck the needle in the pincushion you had on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

"You're really good at this." San looked at the smooth stitches you had done, even though they were by hand, not machine.

"Practice." You let a small smile grace your lips.

"Do you always do everything by hand?"

"Depends on what I am doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn." You pulled a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fell back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you were doing. His fingers messed with a scrap of fabric laying on the floor, then he picked it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you had done.

"Could you teach me to sew?"

"Probably. It's not hard. Getting to this point is though."

"Did you teach Wooyoung?" Your hands froze at the question, heart thudding harder.

"N-No. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself." He laughed.

"Sounds about right- ow!" Your eyes flicked to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin-riddled fabric down on the desk.

"Like that." You giggled and he huffed bashfully. He kept watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rang so he could get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you took the pin cushion off and made sure there wasn’t anything sharp on the floor, you laid your glasses down as well.

"Hot, hot!" He breathed hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walked out. He wasn't expecting the sauce to still be hot, but the pizza place was very close. It only took so long since it was busy for lunch. You let him talk to you while you both ate, and you only partially listened, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you hadn't played and had no knowledge of.

"I think I'm going to head to the studio now." San had helped you clean up and sat on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

"Bye, (Y/N)!" The door shut, leaving you staring at it. Sighing deeply, you went back to your work, trying not to let your thoughts loop out of control.

Your eyes flew open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stared at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

"Fucking-" You sat up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you threw your comforter to the side and got you of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matched your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it was slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog was noticeably absent, so you walked softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie was laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky's body. The sight made you smile, and you glanced to where San was sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hit him around the middle, and one of his feet was sticking out from under.

"(Y/N)?" His voice caught your attention when you started to step out of the doorway.

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yes." When he started to get out of bed, you tried to protest.

"Come on." He ignored your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moved. He led you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

"San-" You got in as well, but stayed sitting up as he laid down.

"Just…sleep." He mumbled, hand grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he could get more comfortable, your head ended up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He fell back asleep fast, his fingers that had been running over your hair stilling. Your heart was thudding hard, you could even hear it pulsing. How the hell were you supposed to fall asleep like that? You pondered that question, but at the same time, your eyes were growing heavy and sleep was washing over you. At first, you were only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you began to actually go to sleep, you felt a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This woke you up fully, but you managed to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers were back to running over your hair, "you have no idea, huh?" His voice was so quiet that even though your nose was near his throat, you barely heard it. San sighed, kissing your forehead, you could tell that time for sure. Finally, you couldn't fight sleep off, and fell asleep in his arms.

Once again, when you woke up in the morning, he was already out of bed. You couldn't hear anything else, and when you glanced at the clock it was a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you looked to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pulled the side of the comforter he had been using up to your nose and you sighed. Smelled like him, and you hated how good that made you feel. Dropping the blanket like it was hot, you scampered out of bed and made your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that led into the main room of the apartment, you saw he wasn't in the kitchen and the bathroom door was open. Your dog barked happily and came to greet you and as you pet her, you noticed a note on the counter. He had gone out to do some things and let you know he would be back for supper. You weren't sure if you were disappointed or relieved at this. You only had two, maybe three, more nights before your sister returned. Wooyoung was supposed to not long after that. You were worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you were there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you felt horrible about your rising affections with San, but you had no commitment to Wooyoung in anyway but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you tried to move on, but there was a small part of you that hoped your sister would get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung could move on, and go to you. While you logically understood that would probably not happen, you still hoped.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finished the suit you had been working on and was able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoyed making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you saw you had nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you would most likely need even more of the right color thread. You could wait a bit though, since you weren't sure when you would run out. As you were rechecking your list, your phone started to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

"This is (Y/N)."

"Hello, Miss (Y/N). I'm a delivery driver for Blooming Days Flowers. I was just wanting to make sure you would be at home in the next fifteen minutes?"

"Oh, uh, yes." You had no idea who would have sent flowers.

"Great, thanks!" He hung up and you blinked back at the flashing 'call ended' on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it was hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rang, you quickly went to the door and the man on the other side smiled, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There were two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler-flowers.

"Oh, thank you!" You took the bouquet and the man had you stamp on his clipboard. He took his leave and you moved further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you plucked the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

"Praying for a good night's sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!" You read out loud, figuring out who it was from before you flipped the card around. You had to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You took several measured, deep breaths. It didn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you could stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you didn't have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You licked your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you could taste the salt of your tears. You had thought he had a crush on you, something small, but this? It seemed like he lo-

"Fuck." Your jaw clenched, the card crinkling where your thumb pressed it too hard. Sniffing hard to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You aggressively sniffled, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomped back to your studio. Were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

"(Y/N)! I got food!" You heard him easily even though you were back in your room, the door closed. For the last hour you had been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You tried laying down, but the comforter still smelled like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears were still drying on your face and new ones came up when you heard his voice. You were so tired at that point, head hurting. Your hand was at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bit your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of your mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

"(Y/N)?" San called again, but you still didn't reply.

"(Y/N)?" He was coming down the hall and you got up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blew your nose and he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Your voice was a bit hoarse and when he came in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face fell.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He immediately came forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs rubbing over the skin.

"J-just…" You forced a smile.

"I was just moved from you sending me the flowers, then I was reading…" Your lie was pretty believable since your book was still open, face down on the bed.

"Oh." He slumped in relief, and you wished he hadn't removed his hands from your face.

"You really liked the flowers?" His brow furrowed nervously.

"Yes, San. They're…" Your breath shuddered but you covered it with a soft chuckle.

"They're beautiful, and so thoughtful." You played with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

"Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much." He led you out to the main room and you slowly followed. You tried to maintain your normal attitude while you ate, and it got easier as you both joked and he told you about his day. Your phone dinged and you glanced down. When the name registered, your entire body stiffened and you exhaled hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin' good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

"Is it Woo?"

"Yeah." You nodded a bit, typing out a simple yes, you sent it. His phone dinged then as well and he scoffed at what he read.

"He knows you're lying." San shot you a deadpan look and your jaw dropped a bit, then you cleared your throat.

"Why does he think that?"

"You didn't capitalize it. It was too short too." San stuck his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You rolled your eyes.

"Bitch." You sneered, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I'm not lying. I'm busy. Grow up.

You weren't normally terse with him like that. He would definitely know something was up. Backspacing, you redid it once again.

I'm not lying. We were busy eating. I'm fine and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you didn't get a reply after he read it, but San's went off. He glared at what he saw, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even muted it.

"What did he say?" You were curious but tried to maintain a neutral tone.

"Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend." That was a lie and you knew it but let the topic drop.

"I'm going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?"

"You're gonna use Woo's computer?"

"Sure am." He smiled, his dimples revealing themselves. You considered it, then you were going to say yes, then considered it again.

"I think I'll finish that show I started the other day." You told him and he shrugged, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You hadn't finished yet, so you took the last few bites, then just left the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watched it. You were rewatching anyway…

"Fuck!" You sat up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you felt like you had just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you buried your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glared at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit.

"Don't take it out on the flowers…" You scolded yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You did so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it fell over, rolled, then fell off, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

"Shit!" You almost got out of bed, but then moved to go to the other side so you didn't land barefoot on glass.

"(Y/N)?" San had peaked his head in, he wasn't in his pajamas yet, so he must have just gotten done with his game.

"Hey, wait!" He stopped you as you moved to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He was in crocs, so he took the trash can from you. Using his sleeve over his hand, he gently picked up the fragments and put them in. He looked up when you handed him a roll of tape. He pulled a section out and tore it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

"What happened?" San threw the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

"I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell."

"Another? Maybe you can't sleep without me." He smirked playfully, but it fell when he noticed you didn't even twitch your lips.

"Give me like five minutes." He held his hand up to motion you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing, you sat on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at the small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself, you pondered what your bad dreams could mean. Why were you having so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That wouldn't make sense…

"Here, let's get you to sleep." San came in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he had to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination did?

"Come here." He had gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you laid back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scared you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

"What are you thinking about?" He had seen your pensive face.

"Nothing-"

"No. Tell me." You huffed in reply.

"Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?" You felt him stiffen, much like you normally did.

"I did, on the forehead-"

"No. Tell me." You shot back at him. San stayed quiet for a second and you could almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

"Yes." His reply was soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

"What do I have no idea about?" He really hadn't thought you were awake, and he shifted nervously before responding. The man was taking his sweet time, and you were about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

"How much I like you…" He finally got out; your suspicions confirmed. He thought you would flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he got nothing, so he pulled away enough to look at your face. It was flat, but your eyes were glossy.

"How much?" His eyes widened at your question.

"How much?" He repeated.

"How much do you like me?" He licked his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seemed to dissipate. The hand on your waist went up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touched yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he didn't flinch back, instead, he fully pressed his lips on yours. You shivered, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands flew up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying in his hair. He grunted, rolling a bit so he was leaning over you some. You whined when his hand rested on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top rode up. Your hands moved down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San took the opportunity when your whine slightly parted your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tasted yours. He was over you completely then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hip slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down you knew you shouldn't, knew you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you were somehow betraying Wooyoung…

"(Y/N)-" San pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

"Just- please- need you-" You heaved out and he groaned. Making sure he was still close enough to brush his lips over yours, he got on his up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to open your legs. He wrestled with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as he threw the shirt behind him somewhere. As San's tongue ran over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it could reach, you couldn't help but feel over him. His soft skin stretched over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallowed your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undid the buttons of your pajama shirt, hauling you up to sit so he could take it off. Your tank was swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bit your lip when he pulled back from the kiss, his leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin felt searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San led you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand had cupped your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasped hard as his lips wrapped over one of your nipples, and at the same time, he ground his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through both of your pants. He was spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kissed over to and sealed his lips over your other nipple, he wrestled your pants and panties off at the same time.

"S-San-!" Your whole body twitched as his fingers met your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

"Fucking soaked, precious." He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewled when his kisses went back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licked a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl." His low voice, right in your ear, took your breath away, his second finger spreading you open. He tried to chuckle at your yelp as he softly pressed his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

"W-wait-!" Your body shuddered, back arching, head thrown back when he added a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

"Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you're too tight for my cock, love." San's nose ran over your throat, then rested his forehead on your collarbone. He looked down at where you were sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loved how tiny you felt under him, writhing and whimpering. He had been waiting for this for so long, and he knew you were vulnerable, and shouldn't be taking the opportunity, but he was weak. If you were going to ask for him, he would give you what you wanted.

"Fu- God! San!" Your cunt clenched his fingers, pulsing with your heart and he circled your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He prompted and you immediately did, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirked above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasmed, soaking his hand. Your body shivered one last time as he removed his fingers, barely registering as he lapped his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes tried to focus as he climbed off the bed, figure out what he was doing. You yelped when his hands on your ankles yanked you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he knelt on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

"San-?!" Your voice ended in a very undignified choking sound as he buried his tongue inside your core, filling the void his fingers had left. He wasn't planning on fucking you open with his tongue, but you tasted too fucking good. His strong hands gripped your inner thighs, so hard he was definitely going to bruise them, holding you open. Your body was still weak from your orgasm, so you couldn't fight him anyway. San pressed his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he could swipe through your folds, then circle your clit. You were still sensitive, the sensation jolted you, he could feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and your fingers wove through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

"S-San~!" You fell apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drank and swallowed every drop that fell from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he was bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimpered and he stood up, even though his pants were loose, they were tight against his hard cock. Your eyes were glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze was drawn back to him as he pulled the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick and your mouth watered when the clothing fell, leaving him naked.

"Fuck." You huffed, still catching your breath and he couldn't fight the smug grin that spread over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you didn’t even know if you could get your fingers all the way around him.

"Come here, precious." He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brought to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angled up allowed him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock met your cunt you clenched your jaw, readying for the stretch.

"Wait, do I need a con-"

"Just fuck me, San." You wanted to sound more assertive, but you just whined like a spoiled child.

"Okay, precious." His smirk grew and he wrapped his arm around your left leg by your knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San started to press in you gasped with each breath, trying to breathe through him splitting you open. You were so tight around him, your gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat felt incredible. He groaned low and long as your cunt swallowed each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

"Such a good girl, sweetheart." He cooed as he bottomed out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You were so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body was in shock, almost. Everything seemed to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you wondered if anyone would suffice after him. You were already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hadn't even moved yet. He could tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt was throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He was going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wanted to fuck every little negative thought from your pretty head, drive away the memory of your nightmares. Wanted to leave you only with thoughts of him, his hands, his lips and tongue, his voice, and his cock. He was already making head way it seemed.

"Can I move, precious?" San leaned down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulled out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snapped his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust was a little deeper, a little harder and your whole body went limp, the third thrust nearly made you black out. Your cunt spasmed, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back. He chuckled as your orgasm waved through you over and over, and he wondered how long you had needed to get fucked. He was so glad he was the one to do so, and he would eagerly do it over and over, till you were dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him kept repeating to him that he would always fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he was planning. Over and over-

"San, please, please…" He wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but your high had laid, so he continued. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you were nearly folded in half, he huffed a laugh.

"You want me to fuck you good, love?"

"Yes!"

"Want my cock to fuck you stupid?"

"YES, fuck PLEASE." His hips rolled, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your already kind of flimsy headboard thudded hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turned white as you gripped your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

"God, you're so fucking perfect (Y/N)~" San groaned, letting one of your legs go so you wrapped it around his narrow waist. The now free hand gripped over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they could instead weave through his. San's lips fell back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you felt like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis met yours, he ground into your clit, and you were growing close to another orgasm, and he was planning on letting go with you. He tried so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside you thought he was in your throat.

"Cum for me, precious. Cum on my cock." San pulled back from the kiss, and his words granted you your relief, your final climax really did make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbled through the room as his hot cum painted your insides white. He came so much that his release spilled out from where he split you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You had fallen limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompanied each breath. He was heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hitting him then. If he already liked you, he was truly infatuated then, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

When consciousness finally washed over you, it took you a second to figure out why the hell you were so sore. Your thighs were sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hit you then and your body protested as you wiggled on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed was once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

"Fuck." You whimpered as your lower half pulsed as you got out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You were naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limped over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally looked in the mirror, gasping. There were several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even had teeth marks.

"Choi San!" You scolded him despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You were glad you worked from home, because there was no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You took a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You winced when the water flowed over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San's monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you got dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric was soft and loose. There was no way you could handle any pressure on your cunt, so you went commando. San had already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you heard the other shower running. Cookie lifted her head from where she laid right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

"Good morning~" You cooed at your pup and then limped over to the fridge, your dog whining a bit at your strange gait. She watched with interest as you pulled some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you had gone through. When your husky smelled the bacon as soon as you opened the package, she started to wag her tail, whimpering.

"No begging!" You scolded the dog, and she was so well trained she simply hung her head and trudged away, down the hall and presumably into your sister's room. You barely heard the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You had assumed he would go to his room to get dressed, but you startled when he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind.

"San, I'm cooking!" you scolded, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate had spiked, more from fear than bashfulness. You still hadn't processed what had happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

"Sorry!" He giggled and leg you go, but only moved to stand next to you. Your face was warm and your eyes stung a bit, brow furrowed. Once all the food was plated and the heat of the stove was off, you turned to him, taking a step back.

"San, I think-"

"Let's eat first, precious. I tired you out." He took both of the plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You followed after him slowly and he pulled a chair out for you which you gratefully sat down on. Then you regretted it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then noticed he was in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looked so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you were really freaking hungry, so you ate first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You knew before you let him rail you into next week that you would regret it. You did, you regretted it and felt guilty. Felt like you used him. Feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food was harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shuddered, and he noticed the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong?" He immediately got up, coming to your side and kneeling so he could look up at you. Your crying picked up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You repeated between each sob that made you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that had finally boiled over.

"Oh, precious." He sighed, trying to pull you into a hug and you pushed your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocked then fell back, clattering onto the floor. San stayed where he was, feeling utterly helpless as you crumbled to the floor. You balled your fists on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and then floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stayed in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

"God, I'm such a fucking bitch." You whimpered to yourself and he couldn't disagree more.

"No, no, precious girl, you're not." He finally got up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

"Yes, I am! I…God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn't have. I…What about…" You heaved for air and he felt his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifted to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

"What about Wooyoung?" Your voice was quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that's what your issue was. He felt a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why did you feel like that? Did it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

"I'm sorry, San. I can't do this. You're Wooyoung's best friend-"

"Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?" His question threw you off.

"I…I don't-"

"Why are you waiting for him when it's possible he'll never go to you? I'm right here." He insisted and you sniffed, trying to stop your tears.

"But if there's a chance-"

"Look, I didn't want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he's in love. If you're not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I'm right here." His voice had gotten a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

"I think you should go home." Your sobs had quieted, but that sentence pierced him harder than everything else. He wanted to argue, try and convince you, but if you needed space, he would give it to you.

By the time his bag was packed and he was leaving Wooyoung's room, you had gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and was cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

"If you need anything…" He drifted off, hand on the doorknob. You trudged over to the door as he opened it, planning on locking the door with the chain after he was gone. You wouldn't meet his eye, and he prayed desperately that you wouldn't have a nightmare that night without him or anyone else there.

When the door closed, you slowly locked it with the chain, dropping your hand. He was standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closed his eyes tight when he heard your start to cry again. You leaned against the door after it shut, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You were beginning to realize you liked San, liked him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which was terrifying. Just over the short amount of time he had been staying with you, he had needled his way into your heart, more than as just a friend. Little did you know, San was still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quieted as new feelings bubbled up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you could process, but thinking of him leaving shattered you.

"Please, please, please." He suddenly heard you speaking, stepping away from the door. He heard the chair rattle as you unlocked the door and opened it. You weren't expecting him to still be right there, but relief washed over you. You began to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately went back in. He dropped his bag and returned your embrace, hugging you close to him as you cried. San rested his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

"(Y/N), oh sweet girl." He sniffed, easily holding you when you went limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arm's hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carried you over to the couch, sitting down so you could sit on his lap. Your sobs ceased, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

"I'm sorry." Your soft whimper hurt him, to hear you so defeated.

"(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?"

"I…I used you."

"How?"

"I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me."

"I know." You pulled back abruptly, gaping at him.

"Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-"

"San, San…" He had started to ramble nonsense, so you cupped his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry I was being…" You licked your lips, thinking, "I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I loved Wooyoung? No, I don't. It is just a crush…" Your thumb ran over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

"I know that I'm not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don't care if I'm your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end." You sniffled at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

"I thought that there was only one choice, but…"

"But?"

"You're right here." You sighed, your own face softening; you had finally rationalized everything. Why your heart thumped so fast, why his actions brought tears to your eyes…Why you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn't there.

"(Y/N)… I didn't want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long." His own emotions were bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

"We've known each other, what, five years?" You nodded, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

"I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies. You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad."

"F-for that long?" You were so shocked you stopped crying. San hummed, rubbing your back, hand slipping under your tank top.

"I've held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…" He stopped when you slumped forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugged you closer. Your heart had been wanting to break earlier, but all his sweet words filled the cracks in with gold.

"I'm sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I'm sorry I can't say I love you back, because I really don't know at this point. But I do know-" you sat up to look at him, "I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?"

"You're not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you're sleep deprived." His hand went to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

"Will you show me something?" You bowed your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

"Whatever you want, precious."

"Can you show me again, how you feel about me?" Your voice was soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him that night. Yes, you were sore, but in the best possible way, and you wanted- needed him again.

"Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't think I can hold back like last night." His voice was low, but his gaze had sharpened. What the hell did he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck was he going to do that was more intense than last night?

"You held back?" You questioned and he huffed, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?" His eyebrow rose in question and you swallowed hard; he could hear it.

"I think I can…" Your voice was quiet, quivering, but you were excited. Your cunt throbbed, still sore but you were getting hot quickly.

"I need a solid answer, precious."

"Yes. I can." His smirk glitched into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathered his composure.

"What should I do first…?" He wondered aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

"Can I make a suggestion?" You tried to sound coy and smug like him, but it didn't really work.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"I…" You exhaled carefully, normally not so shy, "I want to swallow your cock." Your eyes flitted up to look at him and his eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned.

"Precious, are you sure? I don't want to hurt you-"

"I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it." You were building your confidence back up from the response you got from him. Your lips were at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kissed the side of his neck.

"On the floor then, baby girl." He almost gasped at how fast you scrambled off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watched with wide eyes as he took his sweatshirt off, then removed the tank he had on underneath. San bit his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogled him. He noticed your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

"Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?" The intention was clear in his words and tone.

"Yes, please~" You shuffled in your crouch, but stayed still. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again let his pants fall. His cock was only about half hard; you wiggled your jaw knowing it would end up sore too. You wanted to be sore completely and all over when he was done with you. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he was within reach, but you stayed still.

"What a good girl you are." He hummed and you eagerly opened your mouth when the head of his dick touched your lips. You groaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

"Fuck-" San sighed, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hit the back of your throat, you looked up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As he heard you take a large inhale through your nose, he kept going and your whole body shuddered as his cock went down your throat. Your cunt clenched desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy it.

"Oh, fucking hell, sweetheart." He groaned, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He was impressed you hadn't gagged yet, but you were swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stayed there like that for a second, to the point where your head began to swim a bit, the lack of air intoxicating. When he pulled his hips back, just enough that you could desperately suck air in through your nose, he registered the depth that allowed you to breathe.

"Count, precious. I'll bottom out every five thrusts, 'kay?" He instructed and you nodded with a whine in acknowledgement. You tried to hold you jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrust, inhaling deep when he went all the way. Each time he groaned, grinding his pelvis against your face. You knew he had stamina, and even though he didn't block your airway each time, your vision was spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building made your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid dripping on the hard wood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brought him that much closer. San smirked at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from his fat cock battering your throat.

"Mmh~ I'm going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you wanted~" His airy chuckle turned to a groan and he tossed his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulsed hard on your tongue and you finally moved yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he couldn't pull back.

"Fuck-!" He grunted and came, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and throat. You kept swallowing, only gagging a bit then from the sticky substance and he finally pulled out so you could catch your breath. More saliva and cum dripped off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop landed on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

"Such a good girl, love." San grinned at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

"You safe?" You took a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

"Pill." You managed to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

"Good, because I'm gonna pump you full." He smirked. You held your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bent, wrapping his around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he did so turned you on even more and you used your own core strength to lift your legs and wrap them around his middle.

He walked forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, your shorts were still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunged into you. The sudden burn made your cunt clench hard around him and he hissed, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You were plenty wet, and he had just fucked you hours prior, but he was so big. It made sense why he prepped you before, and it didn't help you were still sore. But you could not care less, the stinging pain just added to your euphoria.

San groaned when your nails dug into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You threw your head back hitting the wall a bit hard, but you were too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you held onto his shoulders for dear life. He had your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he could, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It was hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they rolled over your cheeks, he leaned in to lick the salt away. He hated seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks went straight to his cock. So cute.

"You're so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?" His chuckle was slightly patronizing.

"Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt."

"San!" You gasped, your next climax starting. He slowed his pace so you could ride the waves, but didn't want to overstimulate you yet, so he forced his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaked, making another mess on the floor.

San pulled away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protested vehemently when he slowly pulled his cock from your still spasming pussy. He set your feet down, spinning you around and you immediately placed your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window!? You gaped, looking out toward the park you could see from the window.

"S-San-?"

"No one can see you up here, at least I don't think…" He chuckled and didn't allow any more argument and fucked back into you.

"Fuck!" You nearly screamed. Somehow, he was even deeper than before, and the front of his hips slapped against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath was fogging the window, even the heat from your palms did so. San's fingers pressed so hard into your flesh; you knew there would be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you were forced onto your tippy toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock sapped more and more of your strength.

"Huh, I'm close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~" He licked his lips like a hungry dog. You squeaked when his strong grip weaved through your hair, wrapping your braid in his first, tugging lightly as he ground his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It was so hot; he was so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair felt so good. Your body eked out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He was still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You didn't know if your poor little cunt and body could take much more, but your mind didn't care. If we wanted to rail you till you passed out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulled his cock out again, more globs of cum leaked out of your abused hole, which still was twitching. He smirked at your quivering body, not having moved much, and cooed as he easily picked you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitioned to a princess carry. Your head flopped as you panted for air, waiting patiently as he carried you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he put you on the bed, he didn't join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moved it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily registered the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sat with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

"Look there, precious." His hand lightly gripped your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You were an absolute mess, but you were too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still wasn't back inside you.

"San, hurry, please!" You whimpered and he chuckled at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs were spread so your knees resting over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

"Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)." He praised, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watched.

"I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me." His words made you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he started to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you were being hypnotized you watched San's cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sat inside you.

"You're so hot like this." San grunted, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stung, overstimulated, and you felt his dick pulsing; he was close too.

"One more for me precious, one more." He coached, then one, two, he came again. There was no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spilled over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You both were panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep was trying to consume you once again. Later, you were mad at yourself, for not choosing San sooner. He should never have been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi there I was wondering if you would be comfortable writing a poly!maurauders x reader where the reader struggles with an eating disorder. Like she is from a pure blood family and it was a bad habit she picked up. I totally understand if you wouldn’t want to write something like that however!

hi lovely! thank you for requesting, i hope this is okay

cw: general discussion of ed struggles and thoughts (including restriction, binging, and purging, not detailed), swearing, sexual joke implying rough play (towards the end)

1k words

You weren’t sure how long you had been in the kitchen for, but it started to feel like an excessive amount of time. You stared into the cupboards, scanning the shelves for something to eat. Both everything and nothing was appetizing. You would then give up, sighing in disdain before repeating the same process with the fridge, then the freezer, then back to the cupboards, then the freezer again to make sure-

The door opened, a bag dropped, shoes squeaked against the hardwood floors. 

“Hey, angel!” James barrelled into the kitchen. You turned towards him so he could embrace you. 

“Hey, Jamie. You’re back early.” He looked at you questioningly, cutting his eyes to the oven clock. 

Shit! It had been that long? 

“Oh wow!” You laughed uncomfortably. “I must’ve lost track of time.” You shrugged as Sirius slid into the kitchen, patting your ass as he walked past. You turned your now-warm face in his direction. He opened the cupboard, immediately finding a snack and eating with ease. It made you jealous to see the boys eat with so much levity. They never denied their cravings in favor of something smaller, or even nothing at all. They never stared a hole into every nutrition label, wondering how days of food would have to be restricted to compensate, or how many steps would have to be taken to burn every bite off, or how easy it would come back up. They never wallowed in hunger for hours, or ate to the point of pain. Their moral value had never been questioned based off of the food they chose to eat (or not eat). You must’ve been staring in wonder for a long time, because Sirius had quirked a dark brow at you. 

“You checking me out, babydoll?” He teased. You shook your flaming face, looking away from him and mumbling an apology. The quick motion had you seeing spots though, and you brought a hand to your head in hopes of steadying yourself. 

“Shit, sweetheart.” James grabbed your face, looking you over for any visible injuries. 

“Sorry, I just got a bit lightheaded.” This called the two boys to alert fast. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sirius asked carefully. He crooked a finger at you, beckoning you over while James quickly went to get you some water. He felt your face, which was now cold, he scrunched his brows in concern. He moved his hands to your hips, hoping that would keep you steady. You took the water from James, noticing the pinkish hue.

“It’s electrolytes. It will taste good I promise.” He reassured. The taste wasn’t what you were worried about. “When did you last eat, angel?” That was the dreaded question. You struggled through the dense fog of memory. 

“Umm, me and Remus ate together earlier. I’m not sure when, though.” You did remember exactly what you had eaten, though. With a little too much clarity for comfort. Like magic, Remus appeared, holding three empty mugs of tea. 

“What are you gossiping about me for?” His voice would seem monotone to most, but you could hear the humor in it. 

“Remus, love,” James asked gently. “When did you and Y/N eat?” 

“We had a late breakfast after you two left today.” He responded suspiciously. You winced. It hadn’t felt like that long ago. The time it took for Remus to understand the situation was very little. 

“Did you forget to eat today, honey?” James’ anxiety was evident. You could tell he was hoping it was forgetfulness, as opposed to the other possibility. 

“Yeah. I tried to find something a while ago but nothing looked good.” They knew you got like this. Too much choice, nothing made the voice inside your head happy. 

“That’s okay.” James’ hand was rubbing a soothing path up and down your arm. “I haven’t had dinner yet, we can find something together.” He pressed his lips to your forehead before turning to the other two in the room. “Have you two eaten yet?” 

“Not since lunch, no.” Remus slipped back out of the room. 

“I mean, I could always eat.” Sirius said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Remus returned, carrying upwards of ten bars of chocolate. 

“Have some of this, dovey.” Remus picked out your favorite, starting to break it into chunks for you. 

“Rem, it’s okay.” You panicked. Your brain was screaming, both in want for food and in rejection. “I don’t need it.” 

“Sure you do.” He said, nonchalant. You picked up a bar of chocolate, flipping the package over. You didn’t have a chance to look before James took it from you. 

“Baby!” He laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe you thought we would let you do that.” He was right. Since the boys picked up on your issues, they always tried to hide these things from you. Bottles would be handed with the label facing away from you, they would read items off of the menu at restaurants, hoping you wouldn’t look yourself, and the scale in the bathroom had strangely disappeared. Something that apparently Sirius ‘didn’t even notice, dolly, that’s funny.’

“Here, open up.” Sirius grabbed a square of chocolate from Remus’ stash. “Say, ahh.” He teased. 

“Siri,” You laughed. “I don’t need you to feed me.” 

“So? I want to. Stop being so selfish.” You let him place the chocolate in your mouth, rolling your eyes at him. He apparently took great offense to your attitude, deciding to worm his fingers into your waist in revenge. You tried desperately to bat his hands away. 

“Careful, pads.” James tried to scold, obvious humor and affection slipping into his tone. “You’ll make her choke.” Sirius grunted in disdain. 

“I guess you’re right.” Sirius kissed you, mouth still full of chocolate. You pulled away, dizzied to chug water.

“Thought that choking was my job.” Remus said casually. You nearly spit your water out.

[sometimesanalice]

Sun Stroke

Summary: It’s been a few months since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and moved to San Diego. And when Rooster and his teammates introduce you to Dogfight football, you know you’ll never be the same again. Hard pressed and out of sorts, you take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Female Reader

Length: 8k

Warnings: smut, mentions of masturbation, an ode to the jorts.

(author's note: this is a prequel to the 'Like I Can' series, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley Bradshaw was a dead man.

The hangover you’d woken up with was 100% his fault for pressing that final Blue Moon into your hand last night at the Hard Deck.

It had been a couple years since the last time the two of you had seen each other in person and even longer since you’d both lived in the same city, but he knew you. And he without a doubt knew better than to order you another drink when you were already fighting back the giggles.

But what were you going to do, not drink a free beer paid for by your longtime best friend? Not to mention the way he’d teasingly called you a lightweight in a way that sounded a little too much like a dare.

You’d only moved to San Diego a little over a month and a half ago, and maybe if you were going to own up to the role you played in earning this headache, you probably should have known better than to try and keep up with the group of aviators. But since he’d been the one to drive and you were having a good time, you’d thrown caution into the wind and cheers-ed his glass with your own with a grin.

Bad choices shouldn’t taste so good.

It was a citrus-kissed mistake you were paying for now with your head pounding as you rushed around your apartment in a frenzy trying to throw your things together to get out the door to meet everyone at the beach. It’s a feat that would have been so much more manageable if you hadn’t been surrounded by a sea of cardboard boxes, all in various stages of unpacked disarray. It’s an inconvenient maze made by your own procrastination.

Those pain relievers you’d popped not too long ago couldn’t kick in quick enough.

You were running late. You hate being late.

And the way your phone keeps pinging is stressing you out even further. You know it’s Bradley and you’ve been ignoring it in favor of trying to get your act together. It goes off again, barely a minute since the last text had come through, but this time you pause your rummaging to check it.

🔴 Rooster, 11:10 AM: where are you??

🔴 Rooster, 11:17 AM: on a scale from 1-10 how bad is your hangover?

🔴 Rooster, 11:22 AM: tick tock, kid.

🔴 Rooster, 11:23 AM: bring me a coffee?

You roll your eyes at the nerve of that last one. He was going to have to beg Jimmy to make him a tar-like pot from the Hard Deck’s ancient coffee maker if he wanted any. If you were suffering through a hangover, he could suffer through being undercaffeinated.

It didn’t help that you were feeling more high strung than usual. Your vibrator had died before you could finish last night and you’d meant to buffer in time for a quick orgasm this morning, but then you’d slept through your alarm.

You hadn’t had sex since you’d broken up with your ex almost three months ago. While you were doing just fine on your own, you were getting tired of the feel of your own hands and fingers.

When your boss had mentioned the promotion that he wanted to put you forward for, you were elated until he mentioned it would involve relocating to the West Coast office. You’d been on the fence, it was the next step towards your dream job, but you were content with your life in Boston. That night when you had casually mentioned the possibility of it to your boyfriend at the time, it seemed clear to you that it would be an either-or situation.

Either you’d stay in Boston with him or you’d move to San Diego on your own.

Not wanting to rock the boat, you didn’t mention it again. Even though you were still weighing the choice in your mind. It wasn’t until a phone call with Bradley, that you’d finally settled on the right choice for you. After breaking it off with your ex, the two of you had essentially lived like roommates until you’d left without a look back.

At the time, you thought it had been a brilliant idea to use some of your less worn clothes as packing protection for your things. But now as you desperately dig through your third box labeled Bedroom looking for the sporty black and white one piece with the zipper that you know you have but can’t seem to find, you’re starting to think you might be the biggest idiot on the West Coast.

The only beach appropriate thing you’d been able to find in your frantic searching was the bright red scalloped bikini you’d bought a few years ago for a bachelorette party in Tulum wrapped around a set of pretty glass candle holders. And while it made your boobs look great, it was much sexier and revealing than what you were going for to meet up with the Daggers on their home turf.

When your phone dings yet again, you finally admit defeat and give up on your search. In a huff, you put on the bikini, giving the bow behind your neck a good tug before pulling up your denim shorts with a couple jumps, trying to speed things along.

Earlier, you’d found the sticky note that said “FRIDGE!!!” underlined a few times by a heavy hand on top of the beach bag you vaguely remember packing for yourself the night before. The soft cooler bag covered with cheerful palm leaves had been haphazardly shoved onto the top shelf and was now sitting by the front door with the rest of your things, including the low sitting pink and white striped beach chair that Bradley had given to you as a ‘Welcome to San Diego’ gift.

You take one more passing glance around your apartment you look for any stray item that might have been missed- not that you’d be able to spot anything anyways through the cardboard battleground that is your apartment- and then you’re shoving your feet into your sandals and flying out the door in a flurry.

Pulling into the private lot of the Hard Deck, you park in the open spot next to your best friend’s blue Bronco. The bar wouldn’t be open until later, but Penny had given the group of aviators’ carte blanche parking perks. It was something you were especially thankful for as you slung the heavy bags over your shoulder.

The warm coastal breeze and briny salt air were clearing the cobwebs from your head.

Even though the feel of it drifting over your bare skin reminded you of just how exposed you were in just your skimpy bikini top and frayed denim shorts, you’d only realized when you were halfway to the beach that you’d forgotten to put a shirt on in your haste to get out the door. But you were sure you’d packed an oversized linen shirt to cover up with if the sun got to be too hot.

As you pass by the well maintained, but sun-bleached patio, you see Penny sitting at one of the picnic tables with her laptop. She waves when she sees you and you raise the iced latte you’d stopped for up to her in greeting, as much as you can without having the beach chair slip off your shoulder.

Further down the beach, you see the group of energetic aviators. Nat looked a bit like an orchestral conductor the way she is directing the finishing touches on the set up. You weren’t too late, just fashionably so, but you were already planning to buy them all a round of drinks later anyways. Even though it’s just a casual hang out, you still want to make a good impression with Bradley’s friends.

It was been one of the things you’d been most worried about moving here. Rooster had opened the door for you to get to know his friends, but you didn’t want to be just an extension of your best friend in the way it felt like you had been in high school. You really liked these people and wanted to make your own friendships with them too.

You’re more than regretting the choice to try and bring everything in one go, with the way the sand is shifting under your feet and how your beach bag and chair keep bumping against each other with every step you take. And just as you’re contemplating ditching them for the moment to circle back for after you get rid of the cooler bag that’s weighing you down, you see Fritz nudge Bradley, pulling his attention away from his phone and pointing in your direction.

The wide grin that appears on his face is immediate and you feel the corners of your own mouth pulling up. California looked good on him. He seemed happier and lighter here, more like the boy you knew from back home. The one he’d been before he lost his mom and the man who’d helped raise him. You hope that one day it’ll look just as good on you. He gives the other man a quick pat on the back before he’s setting off towards you in an easy jog.

“Hey, where’s mine, kid?” Bradley asks, nodding to your drink with its ice cubes now more than half melted before effortlessly taking the heavy bag from you.

You’re so grateful for his help- now that you can feel your arm again- that you almost forget that you’re supposed to be annoyed at him.

“You know what you did, Br-adshaw,” you retort, catching on his name and hoping he could feel your attempt at a glare from behind your dark sunglasses.

It was a change you were still getting used to. You’ve known him since you were eight, he’s always been Bradley to you. But you’d caught on very quickly that everyone else here only ever seemed to call him ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’. And he’d grinned so widely the first time you’d called him by his callsign that it seemed like a confirmation to the question you’d been too apprehensive to ask.

The man didn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty, the all too knowing smirk on his face confirmed everything you already knew, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhmm, sure,” you say, flatly pressing your lips together in an unamused line. You’re tempted to flip him off now that you have a free hand, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He tugs his sunglasses down his nose with a finger to look at you from over the top of them, more serious now, “But you had fun, right?”

And it’s too hard to keep up with the façade of being mad at him when he is looking at you so earnestly. When you were younger you had a higher tolerance against those big brown eyes, his ‘cow eyes’ as Carole had called them. Now that you lived here maybe you’d have a fighting chance against them again, but you felt yourself giving into them.

You were still getting use to the fact that you got to be around him all the time again, and sometimes it felt like you were relearning him as an adult. Your friendship with him felt just as familiar as it always had, but you could admit it was also different now.

“A little too much,” you say with a light laugh at your own expense, “But yes, I had fun, Rooster. I really like your friends.”

He smiles, pleased. “Ok, good.”

Bradley slings an arm over your shoulder and the two of you start walking towards the rest of the group. You hold your drink up for him to take a sip as a sign of truce.

He grimaces at the taste, “Why does it taste like I just licked some of that potpourri shit my Grandma Rose used to keep in her house?”

“Maybe because it’s a lavender latte,” you say, taking a smug sip of your own now that the two of you were even. The coffee shop you’d stopped at has become your favorite in the area. It was a little thing, but you liked having a go-to spot when so much still felt so new to you.

“You’ve only been here a few weeks and they’ve already got you drinking the California Kool-Aid? Coffee should taste like coffee, not a damn flower,” he gripes.

“You sound like you’re seventy. Next, you’ll be yelling at kids to get off your grass,” you tease, nudging his ribs with your elbow. “And I’ll have you know I liked these before I moved here. It was just an extra selling point getting one this morning because I know you aren’t going to drink it all when my back is turned.”

He barks a laugh, “Now that I know there were ulterior motives involved, I might just have to help you finish it.”

You stop and push your sunglasses onto the top of your head, giving him a firm look, “You’re still on friendship probation, tread carefully where my coffee is involved.”

Bradley playfully reaches out for your coffee, “You don’t scare me, kid.”  You attempt to push him away, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

The two of you had basically reached the rest of the group. The gentle crash of the waves was mingling with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from a speaker and the bursts of easy laughter of his friends. Jake is a few feet from the two of you at the edge of the set up as he works to cover himself with sunscreen, the mist sparkling on the fine hairs on his forearms before he rubs it in. 

“You might have those curls figured out now, but I bet my mom still has photos of you with that terrible middle part from when you were thirteen. Don’t mess with me, Bradshaw.”

His head snaps towards you, “Your potpourri coffee is safe, I promise.” You can’t help but laugh at the panic in his voice and the way he warily eyes Jake, clearly not wanting the other man to get his hands on any potential blackmail material.

The sound of a low, exaggerated whistle pulls your attention over to Hangman. “Lookin’ good, kid,” Jake drawls, a pair of dimples punctuating his lazy grin on either cheek, “Red is definitely your color.” His pecs and abs are gleaming in the sun. He’s not your usual type, but it’s working for you more than it should.

God, you really needed to get laid. Or at least get a more reliable vibrator.

“Nah, I’m not having any of that,” Bradley warns, pointing a finger at him, “You cut that shit out right now, Seresin.”

Jake puts his hands up in surrender, but that sharp smile gets even wider, “Just givin’ the lady a compliment, Rooster, don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” He sends you a wink and you think you hear Bradley grumble something under his breath.

The blonde with all his pretty boy looks was absolutely a shark when it came to finding ways to get under Rooster’s skin. You’d heard your best friend complain about him for years. And even after learning about their truce, you hadn’t been too sure about meeting him in person. But ultimately his easy charm had won you over pretty quickly. You could admit that now you had a lot of fun teaming up with Jake and riling Bradley up.

“Thank you, Jacob,” you sing, tugging on Rooster’s arm towards the spot that had been left open for you in between his things and what you recognized as Natasha’s oversized beach towel.

You gingerly balance your coffee on the arm of his deep green beach chair before dropping the rest of your things into the sand and take in the carefully curated beach arrangement.

Fritz and Harvard are off to the side casually tossing a frisbee back and forth between them. Callie and Nat were facing off against Coyote and Payback in a game of cornhole laughing as they shit talk. Yale looks like he is napping, but you spot the AirPods in his ears, probably trying to listen to the audiobook he’d recommend to you last night in peace. Next to him is Fanboy, who looks pretty engrossed in the comic book he’s reading. And Bob was making his way back up the beach towards the group from where he’d been down by the water.

“I’m going to go offload that and say ‘hi’ to people,” you tell Rooster. Taking the heavy cooler bag back from him, you set off towards the designated grazing area in the middle of the ocean-facing semicircle Nat had corralled people into, greeting his friends as you pass by.

You were more than a little curious about tipsy you had packed for the day. Unzipping the bag, the first thing you spot is the last thing you ever would have expected to find for a day at the beach.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, hesitating for a moment, unsure whether or not to add it to the rest of the things in the cooler.

“Are those pickles?” You turn to see Mickey standing behind you.

You hold the jar up for his inspection, “I can’t tell you what I was thinking by bringing them. Do you think I should put them in?”

He surprises you when he whoops and takes the jar from you, holding it above his head like a championship belt, “Yo, Payback! Look! The kid brought pickles!”

“Which kind?” Reuben calls back, taking a pause from the game with a beanbag still clutched in his hand.

“Claussen! The whole kind!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he hoots, sending you a thumbs up. “Grab me one too, Fanboy.”

Mickey twists open the lid with a satisfying pop and fishes one out. “These are the best, thanks!” he says before excitedly hustling off towards Reuben to share, the cornhole game now on an indefinite pause.

You hadn’t been too sure what tipsy you had been thinking, but apparently the beach pickles were destined to be a hit. Either that or you weren’t the only one trying to shake off the tail end of a hangover this morning.

Bob swings by to grab a soda, but stops to help you unload the rest of the things from your bag. As the two of you work together, he tells you about the crab he’d found near the patio of the Hard Deck that he’d just released back into the ocean. 

Both of the large coolers were pretty packed, so no one would be going hungry or thirsty today. You make a note to shop around for one of your own and maybe a beach umbrella since no one else seems to have one. You were more of a sand, sea, shade type of girl.

Once everything is all put away, you grab a couple bottles of water and make your way back to your friend. You catch him taking another curious sip of your coffee, this time he nods like the taste might be growing on him. You let it slide because you see that while you’ve been away he’s set up your chair for you.

“Are you feeling peckish, Rooster?” you ask, plopping the water in his cup holder, eyeing the pilfered bag of trail mix he must have pulled out of your tote bag in his hands.

“What?” Bradley shrugs, unapologetically. You roll your eyes at him affectionately as he helps himself to another handful. “God, I’ve missed this. Japan has so much good food, but one of the perks of being back stateside after a year and a half is all the snacks. I’ve been going to Trader Joe’s like twice a week since I’ve been back.”

You still didn’t know anything about the mission that had brought him back to Top Gun. That phone call you’d had with him the night before he’d shipped off had played in your mind on repeat until he’d texted you that he was back safely in San Diego. The only thing you had been able to glean is that not everything went according to plan, based on his newest additions to his collection of scars. They were the first thing you’d noticed when he’d picked you up at the airport. Still shiny, pink, and fresh.

“Well, with that Hawaiian shirt collection of yours, you’d certainly fit in.”

He chuckles at that as he takes a moment to sort through the collection of various nuts and fruit and chocolate bits, he plucks out the raisins and drops them back in the bag. You bite back a smile because some things never change. He’s always pulled out the raisins, usually to replace them with more chocolate chips. Back when you were teens, his infamous ‘Bradshaw Mix’ was basically a 3-1 ratio of chocolate chips to anything else.

“Wait a second. Hold up, ‘peckish’?” His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, “Was that a joke at the expense of my callsign, kid?”

You point at yourself like who me? blinking innocently at him, “I would never.” Then grabbing a few of the nuts from his open hand you pop them into your mouth, shooting him a sunny grin.

Now that everything was all situated you felt like you could finally relax. You were like this when you traveled too, never at ease until you were through security with your bag stowed above your head. That tightness in your chest only releases after you’re buckled into your seat with all your in-flight necessities tucked away in the seat pocket in front of you.

Maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice the shirt that he was wearing. Well, mostly wearing. The sleeves had been cut off with an overenthusiastic hand and neared nip slip territory with the amount of Rooster’s golden skin that was on display.

“The Hooters shirt, really? Of all the things you could have held onto from your glory days, you chose that? How gauche.” You slide your sunglasses back on your face with your pinky exaggeratedly pointed up to the sky for dramatic flair.

He clutches his chest, “She’s got that fancy degree and been living in a big city and now she thinks she’s too good for Hooters? My, my how times have changed.” Bradley whips his tank off and tosses at you the same way he had done hundreds of times when the two of you were growing up.  Except the overpowering smell of teen spirit and axe body spray was replaced with a subtle, rich woodsy smell.

Rooster laughs when you succumb to the urge and throw him your middle finger. 

“Your motley crew of teenaged horndogs only went there because you all had a crush on Danielle Batula’s older sister,” you shoot back, folding up his shirt and putting it on top of your things.

“Hey now, we also went for the Lots-a-Tots. I’ve always been a feminist, kid, if a woman feels empowered wearing those spandex shorts then I’m going to support her,” he says with a wink, “Far be it from me to tell a woman what to wear.” You reach up to flick his nose and he bats at your hand, grinning even wider.

“And what’s the excuse for the reason you’re wearing jorts at the beach?”

Not that any man should be able to pull them off, but he wore them well. You were pretty sure he could pull off most anything with the body he’d worked for over the years, but the fact of the matter was that denim had no place mixing with sand.

“These are my beach jeans,” he says like it’s the most logical thing in the world, as he strikes a pose with his hip cocked out.

“I can see that, Rooster. But why?”

“It’s because they get him laid,” Javy cuts in with a booming laugh, slapping Bradley on the back as he passes by on his way towards the coolers, “Isn’t that right, Bradshaw? How many numbers did you score the last time we all did this? Like five?”

He runs his against the back of his neck, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever known him to be, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. She doesn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Oh.” It sounds just as stupid coming out of your mouth as you feel, not entirely sure how to respond or what to do with yourself.

Objectively speaking, you know your best friend is attractive. Tall, broad, and tan. You’d seen him get hit on more than a few times at the Hard Deck in the short time you’ve been here. But Rooster’s sex life wasn’t something you really wanted to hear about- or think about- especially when yours is nonexistent at the moment. 

However, it was one thing to generally know Bradley had no problem finding someone to take home and a different thing to hear just how easy it was for him. 

But you couldn’t say it surprised you though. During your first night out with everyone, you’d overheard a girl in the bathroom talking to her friend about him in more detail than you ever wanted to know, right down to confirming there had been more to the story he’d told you about how he’d earned his callsign.

You pointedly ignore the turn in conversation in favor of digging through your woven beach bag. You hadn’t had the time to apply sunscreen with all your rushing around to get here, and knowing Rooster he most likely hadn’t put any on either. His shoulders aren’t pink yet, but they undoubtedly will be by the end of the day. Even with the SPF 65 you’d purchased with him in mind.

Grabbing the bottle, you smoothly lob it to him, “Here, put that on. ‘Lobster’ isn’t nearly as cool of a callsign, Rooster.” You have to turn away from the chaotically haphazard way he rubs it all over his face. 

Leaving him to his own devices, you pull out a battered paperback book and toss it into your chair, only slightly mortified to see that tipsy you had been in a grocery store bodice ripper mood. If only you had noticed it earlier, you would have swapped it out for something less incriminating.

How you’d taken the time to unpack your books, and not all your clothes was beyond you.

You’re about to step around to the front of your pink and white striped chair when you feel a firm tug on the belt loop of your shorts, making you stop to turn back towards your best friend.

“Woah, get back here. We can’t have you frying, kid.” He squeezes some sunscreen into his hand, “Turn around and I’ll get your back for you.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you say, adamantly shaking your head, “I trust you with a lot of things, but I am not trusting you to put the SPF on me. You haven’t even rubbed it all the way in on your face yet.” You thumb at the smear of white on his cheek to further emphasize the point.

“Hey, these hands handle a multimillion-dollar fighter jet, I’m more than capable of covering your back with sunscreen,” Rooster huffs, “Now, c’mere.”

Natasha laughs beside you as you dart out of his reach and around your chair to stand by her instead. She must have just walked up, because the last time you’d seen her she had been over on the other side of the group talking to Callie. But you had every confidence she would back you up with this since her friendship with Bradley was one that spanned years, and she’s undoubtedly seen him fried to a crisp before too.

“She makes a good point,” she says with a smirk, pinning him with a sharp raise of her eyebrow, “The last time I asked one of you guys, I ended up with the worst tan lines.”

The look of betrayal on his face is comical, “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I’ve decided to upgrade,” she says pointing to you. You beam in victory towards him and he just shakes his head at you before looking down at the large blob so sunscreen in the center of his large palm like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

You take Natasha up on her offer to help you cover the spots you can’t reach. All the while, you can hear him grumbling to himself as he works on rubbing in the dollop that had been meant for you over his shoulders and chest. After she’s done with your back, you shimmy out of your shorts and work on getting your arms and legs covered.

As Nat pulls up her thick, shiny hair onto the top of her head- the reason she must have come over here in the first place- and reminds Rooster about the plan to play ‘Dogfight’ football a little later before setting off again. You’d heard of flag football, but that name was new for you. You’d seen enough football with your ex and you were suddenly very grateful you’d brought a book to keep yourself occupied, even if it was a bodice ripper. 

You double check your set up, ready to hunker down, when you feel Rooster’s eyes trained on you, “What?”

“Just looking for evidence of this tattoo you allegedly have,” he says, doubtfully, “Considering that I only found out about last night. Since when do we keep secrets?”

“I told you it’s not for the viewing public, so it’s none of your business. Now, stop hovering and go play with your friends. You’re annoying me,” you say without heat, shooing him away.

“Are you bossing me around, kid?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yep,” you say breezily, getting comfortable in your chair and opening your book, “You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

“You’d think,” Rooster agrees with a laugh. He squeezes your shoulder before strutting off to go join where Coyote, Harvard, and Fanboy are already tossing a football back and forth not too far away.

Now that you’re on your own, you lose yourself in the words printed on the cheap paper of your smutty bargain book. You’re too engrossed in the tension and build-up of the story you’re reading to pay attention to anything else. And you’re reminded why this particular book has never made it into a donation box when you do your spring cleaning, it’s got the best combination of all your favorite tropes. By the fourth chapter you’re completely immersed in the story, and all the chatter happening around you becomes white noise.

The only signal of time passing is marked by the melted ice in your empty coffee cup, by the crinkle of swiftly turning of pages, and by the sun as it rises higher and higher in the sky.

What minimal marine layer there had been when you’d first arrived is long gone. You’re probably due for another layer of sunscreen by now, but you can’t be bothered when you’re in the middle of possibly one of the hottest sex scenes you’ve ever read.

It’s so well written, so incredibly vivid that you can almost feel greedy hands and wandering mouths along every inch of you. The blood thrumming in your ears has drowned out the sound of crashing waves. You’re so hyperaware of your body. It’s as if you can feel every individual grain of sand on your skin. Tucked between your fingers, on your shin, in the nook of your ankle bone. The high heat of the day has your hair sticking to the back of your neck and sweat collecting in the hollow of your collarbone. You’re too keenly aware of the prickling sensation on your shoulders and the tops of your thighs.

You thought living vicariously through the main character might help take the edge off. Instead, all it’s done is given fresh life to the ruined orgasm from the night before, like an echo of need reverberating throughout your whole body. A reminder of how untouched you’ve been over the last few months. You can’t help the way you’re shifting in your chair, trying to relieve the way your clit is throbbing in time with your heartbeat. The moment your cunt clenches around nothing, you close your book with a sharp snap. Not even bothering to mark the page you left off at.

You feel fidgety and keyed up. 

Needing something to do, you grab your tote looking for the lightweight linen coverup you assumed was packed. But digging around all you can find is Rooster’s Hooters shirt from earlier.

You’re more than a little irritated at yourself for not double-checking you had everything before you left for the day, and because your tipsy self had clearly fucked you over. You don’t know anyone else as well as you know Bradley to rummage through their things to look for some other form of sun protection, so with a huff you pull it on over your head. The cotton is soft and warm to the touch. You’re grateful for the way it covers your shoulders, but you’re already mentally preparing yourself for how smug he’ll be when he sees you in it, especially after all the shit you gave him earlier.

Still needing to keep yourself occupied from wanting to crawl out of your skin, you crack open the water bottle you’d grabbed earlier and swallow down a few large gulps. You’d heard when Natasha had rallied the group for their game, but you hadn’t taken a moment to find out what ‘Dogfight’ Football actually was.

You’re not even the slightest bit prepared for what you see playing out in front of you down by the water. You’d figured watching some of their football game would help your act together, but now you feel even more spun out of control than before at the sight of so much skin.

Fuck.

The sun is bouncing off of their hard, athletic bodies. Under the shiny sheen of sunscreen and sweat, their muscles look bigger and the divots and ridges more pronounced. You knew these were some of the best and brightest the Navy had to offer, but seeing them in action was something else entirely. The power of their legs was impressive as they ran and spun around their opponents. The precision of their aim as they threw the football to a teammate. Every single one of them was in peak shape. Those weren’t vanity muscles, those were earned and honed by hard work.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from any of it.

The lithe line of Natasha’s toned thighs. The full, defined pecs on Jake’s massive chest. The way Bob’s large hands easily wrapped around most of the curved football he’d just caught. The skin over the wide expanse of Javy’s back was pulled taut, his muscles flexing as he twists and bends. The way Mickey was breathing hard made his chiseled abs stand out even more than they already did.

It was a lot. Especially for someone who couldn’t remember the last time they’d been good and truly fucked.

And then there was Rooster.

There had been a few moments since moving here where you’d been struck by this version of him. It was almost like your brain couldn’t connect the tall, broad man in front of you racing across the beach with the long-limbed, gangly boy you’d known with the red and black braces. Or the one in the teal shirt who’d scooped ice cream for his first job. Or the one who’d helped you pass Algebra 2 when the math teacher cared more about coaching the basketball team than he did trying to make sure his students understood the material.

Seeing him now, like this? This version of him was new to you.

Rooster’s chest and face were flushed pink, those curls of his are an absolute riot. The sweat he’d worked up made it look like his golden skin was gleaming in the bright afternoon sun, even with the patches of gritty sand that were sticking to him. Power and control radiated off every inch of him, the embodiment of physical strength and agility. Every movement he made was purposeful and precise, like he knew exactly what he was capable of.

You knew he was built, but the casual perfection of his body still takes you by surprise.

The broadness of his shoulders, the definition of his biceps and arms, the jutting v-shaped muscle that ran diagonally from his hipbones towards the trail of fine hair below his belly button. The long tendon that ran along the side of his neck was on full display as he throws his head back to laugh at something one of his teammates says. It was impossible to miss the unapologetic confidence in his swagger or the way those ridiculous jorts were clinging to his thick thighs. They were absolutely soaked through, the light wash darkened by the Pacific, and the denim was molded to him in a way that left nothing to the imagination. 

When did Bradley get an ass like that?

The startling intrusive thought about your best friend has you shooting up from your chair in a flash, your book tumbling off your lap and into the warm sand.

Jesus Christ, you needed to get a grip.

Shade. You needed shade and to get out of the heat. And you definitely needed to get away from the overwhelming display of sunkissed sweaty skin and peak physical prowess playing out before you.

And then you’re off like a shot towards the Hard Deck.

The burst of cool air you’re hit with as soon as you’re pushing through the patio door that Penny left unlocked for the group is more than welcomed against your overheated skin, even as it makes goosebumps erupt along your body.

You sigh in relief once you flip the lock to the worn wooden door of the bathroom closed. Leaning against the cool surface that’s littered with faded stickers from all around the world, you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your racing heartbeat to slow down. You’re breathing hard like you’ve run a marathon, your lungs uncooperative to the point where you don’t feel like you can take a full breath. You’ve never felt this antsy before, it’s like there’s a live wire under your skin.

In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. You’re more than a little windblown, but it’s the wild gleam in your eyes that surprises you the most, it’s a look on yourself that you’ve never seen before. Your thighs rub together as you shift your weight on your feet and it makes the pulsing of your clit impossible to ignore.

You weren’t. You shouldn’t.

But you have no idea how you’re going to make it through the rest of the afternoon and evening if you didn’t with how on edge you are.

Bringing your hand up to your chest, you press it there and let your thumb soothingly skim the side of your neck, trying to use whatever techniques you’d learned in those overpriced yoga classes you’d started taking before you’d left Boston to calm yourself down. But your fluttery pulse won’t be pacified.

Every part of you feels hypersensitive, you can feel every thread of Rooster’s shirt against your too tight skin. The desire to be touched is overwhelming. Your breasts feel heavy and you’re all too aware of your peaked nipples against the cups of your swimsuit. You’re craving hands other than your own.

It’s been so long since someone else has made you come. Even longer since you’ve had a back-arching, toe-curling, steal-your-breath kind of orgasm. You want to be pressed into the door, you want a firm, solid body fitted against yours. You want to be kissed and touched and fucked.

You keep telling yourself that you aren’t going to, even as your hand trails down the soft cotton between the valley of your breasts and over your stomach down even further. Your fingers sneak easily beneath the top of your bikini bottoms since you’d left without pulling your denim shorts back on. There are no thoughts left in your head, only the ringing in your ears. You need, you need.

There’s a small whimper that escapes you at the first touch of your fingertips against your slippery clit. The sensation has your hips jerking forward on their own, seeing out more. You’re so wet already.

There’s no finesse or slow build up. No gentle teasing or trying to draw this out. Your fingers are making quick, tight circles on that pulsing part of you. In the quiet of the bathroom, the rhythmic slick sounds you’re creating feel almost too loud.

You already know it’s not going to take you long to get there, but you still can’t help but let your mind wander. You think of big hands with thick fingers, ones that are calloused and rougher than your own touching you in just the way you like. The thought of a thick thigh pressed in between your own, on you could rock and grind against, has you rolling your hips harder against your fingertips. You can almost feel the ghosting of hot lips, a wet mouth, and a teasing tongue along your neck. All you want is a raspy voice in your ear whispering filthy words and murmuring pretty praise.

Couldn’t even wait until you got home. C’mon then, dirty girl, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone and no one’s watching.

Go on, give that needy clit the attention it deserves. Spread your thighs open further- yes, just like that- I want to see how wet you are for me.

Jesus, look how hard you’re working for it. You’re going to make yourself come, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that everyone will know what we did in here. They’ll all know how desperate you were for this cock.

A soft whine makes its way out of you, and with your free hand you pull up the collar of the shirt you’re wearing over your mouth to try and muffle your sounds as you tremble all over.

You’re hit with the scent of clean laundry and the warm, woodsy scent of expensive cologne. It’s rich and cozy, it reminds you of the trees that grow everywhere in your hometown. And underneath that, there’s a smell that you’d know anywhere, one you’ve always been familiar with. It smells like Br--

You come open-mouthed with stars blooming behind your eyelids, the force of it hitting you so hard that your knees nearly give out beneath you. The hand that had been covering your mouth slaps against the door for support. Your hips writhe against your fingertips as you chase those last shimmery moments of your release.

In your post-orgasm satisfaction, you feel like you can finally breathe again, now that all your antsy, unsettled energy has been freed from your body.

When you can feel your legs again, you go wash your hands once and then again for good measure. Like somehow it’ll erase the last few minutes from the Hard Deck’s history books, even though you’re sure it’s seen much worse. You chance a peek at yourself in the mirror, you look more relaxed than you did when you’d arrived.

Unlocking the door, you leave the sanctuary of the quiet bathroom. The only thing on your mind is the glass of ice water that’s calling your name. You’re about to round the corner out of the hallway when you collide into someone’s chest. A firm, sweaty, shirtless chest.

“Oh hey, there you are,” Rooster says, his big hand steadying you at the waist. “You ok? You look overheated, kid.”

Your face heats up immediately. You’re too flustered by what just occurred barely five minutes ago to look him in the eye. You feel embarrassment trying to bubble its way to the surface, but you push it back down in the name of self-care. Plus, you could always blame it on sunstroke if you had to, not that you were ever planning on telling anyone about it.

“Probably just dehydrated,” you ramble, trying to sound unaffected. Your eyes are trained on a spot just under his ear. “But you’re one to talk. You’re fried, Rooster.” With a finger you press lightly on his bright pink shoulder. His hisses and knocks your hand away.

“Nah, I’m just working on my base tan.” You don’t see as much as you feel the moment he notices what you’re wearing. Smugness rolling off of him in waves, “Not too good for Hooters now, are you?”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“C’mon, let’s get you some water.” Tucking you under his arm as he steers you back towards the bar. “So what did you think of Dogfight football? Did you catch any of it or did your highbrow literary choice have your full, undivided attention?”

Your mind starts to whirl, unable to think of a reply. Thankfully you’re spared giving him an answer as the rest of the clamorous team spills in through the open patio door. The commotion is a godsend, because it’s almost like he forgot he even asked the question in the first place in the all the activity. The real answer will forever be a secret between you and the Hard Deck.

The late afternoon melts into evening like hand-churned ice cream, smooth and silky.

Eventually, the beach set up is packed away into trunks of cars as the party moves inside the bar. You end up back in your denim shorts, the Hooters shirt is the crowning glory to your ensemble for the rest of the night. You don’t even feel guilty getting people to call Rooster ‘Flamingo’ after the third time someone asks you about being out of uniform regulation. But he isn’t faring much better in the too-tight shirt he was borrowing, since it turns out that out of everyone in the group only Bob had been the one with enough common sense to pack a spare one.

As predicted, the pink hue of Rooster’s skin deepens with every passing hour until he’s bribing you into leaving early with the promise of burgers and milkshakes in exchange for putting on aloe for him back at his place.

He’s sprawled face down on his couch in a pair of loose sweatpants with his eyes closed, contentedly humming as you work on applying a second coat of the cool, soothing gel to his hot-to-the-touch skin. One of the movies the two of you use to watch all the time plays on in the background, the crumpled wrappers and empty cups of your dinner sitting out still on his coffee table. Every time you come here you can’t help but seek out any little touches that look like him, but much like yours, his condo seems to be a work in progress.

“It’s nice having you around, kid,” Rooster says with a sigh. “I’ve missed you.”

“You don’t have to butter me up, Bradshaw, I’ll put one more layer on for you before I leave,” you tease, as your hand follows the freckles along his back.

He squeezes your knee, “No, seriously. I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really happy you’re here.” And you know that if you were to look in his brown eyes, you’d see nothing but fondness reflected in them.

You give him a soft smile, “I’m happy I’m here too.”

It’s late by the time you get back to your place.

It seems pointless with the cardboard boxes still scattered around your apartment, but you still go through the motion of putting all your things away. Like wiping out your cooler bag and throwing your clothes in the washing machine, including the well-worn Hooters shirt. You’ve already decided to spend the rest of your weekend trying to unpack your things, you’re ready to make your space feel more like your home.

It’s a slow sinking feeling that settles over you as you wash the sand and sea salt from your skin in the shower. Your day has been so filled with chatter and laughter, that it feels uncomfortably quiet. It was different from the peaceful quiet you’d had at Rooster’s place, this was the empty kind of quiet. 

You turn the tv on in your room and crawl into bed, savoring the way the cool cotton of your sheets feels against your legs. Checking your phone, you see that Nat has sent you some pictures that she must have taken during the day. Scrolling through them you like the windblown, carefree girl you see in them.

For as good as the day you’ve had, you can’t quite shake off how lonely you’re feeling now. You can’t help but think about how nice it would be to come home and have someone here to laugh and relax with. Someone just to be with.

You pull your lower lip in between your teeth as you click into the app store feature on your phone. Taking a few moments to skim the options, you download the dating app with the highest rating and best reviews, deciding that it can’t hurt to try.

Not everyone got to have a fresh start in a new city, and you wanted to make the most of it. A new city with new places to go and new people to meet.

And you are ready to embrace every bit of it with open arms and a hopeful heart.

California was going to look good on you.

Bradley Bradshaw, you liked that lavender latte and you're not fooling any of us!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @callsignspark for being the best babes to swoon over pretty pilots with!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[oneforthemunny]

take as needed |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|

prompt: a hectic week at the hideout has you burnt out, fed up, and on the path of destruction. eddie is in your path, and tries to course correct.

contains: minors dni. smut. dom!eddie x sub!reader tones this time. soft!dom!eddie. emotional release spanking. masturbation male. angst, fighting, they're kinda mean to each other but ends in fluff. based off this blurb from a while ago.

"Behind you." Veronica held the beers over you, shimmying through the crowded back area towards her customers at the end of the bar.

It was way too busy for The Hideout- for Hawkins. College was out for the summertime, all the college kids that fled as fast as they could after graduation were dragged back for the summer. Most of them would rather be at some stuffy bar that with their families, and you couldn't blame them, so they found there way here. On a Friday night, slammed and the karaoke machine in full effect from nine til midnight. Thankfully, you got off at ten, only an hour of enduring the screeching off note wails of the drunken patrons.

"Great song choice, man. Super metal." You looked up to see Eddie, all black even in the summer heat, sliding behind the bar, fist bumping the drunk kid who'd belted Welcome to the Jungle complete with the filthy moans into the mic. It had made everyone laugh, hoot and yell out encouragements at him. Everyone but you, it just irritated you.

"Hey there, pretty girl." Eddie muttered, grabbing your waist while he slid past you. "When you get a chance, can you make me a drink, please?"

"I'm super busy right now, Ed." You huffed, fishing a pen out of your back pocket, setting it on the bar for the drunk sorority girl to sign.

"I know, baby," Eddie cooed, ringed hands rubbing down you arms gently. You knew the act was to soothe you, calm you down, but it did nothing to relax you, only pissing you off further. "Whenever you get a chance. 'm on my break. You need any help? Wha'dya need me to do? How can I help?"

"No." You grit, shoving the ice scoop into the clumped, melting ice with a rather hard shove. "Can you just get out from behind here? It's crowded enough, Ed. 'M boiling and you're in my way."

"Easy, ease up." Eddie frowned at you. "Just trying to see if you need any help."

"I'm fine." You slammed the glass down on the counter, Veronica's eyes cutting over towards you carefully. You'd been on edge all night, frustrated and annoyed from the moment you walked in, such a contrast to your usual very sweet and bubbly demeanor. The customers seemed to notice too, seeing as your tips were practically cut in half, even on a busy night.

You tilted the bottle up, not even bother to properly measure the amount of vodka you were dousing into the drink. Veronica raised her brows at Eddie, shaking her head gently. You pressed the lemonade tap before turning to him. "I'll make your drink if I have time."

"I got it." Veronica offered, pulling two glasses out. "What do you want, Ed-"

"-I can make it, Veronica." You sneered, jamming a straw in the drink and adding it to the tab. "Just gimme a goddam second."

"Hey," Eddie's eyes narrowed at you. "What's gotten into you? Take a fucking chill pill and relax."

"I am relaxed." You sneered, slamming the drink on the counter in front of the wide eyed girl. "You are pissing me off."

"Hey, the both of you," Ellen huffed from her place behind you. "Why don't you both go on your fifteen." She suggested. "Cool off, alright?"

Eddie didn't give you a chance to protest, wrapping his arm around your bicep lightly, dragging you back towards the kitchen. You grumbled the whole way, whining about your tips, scuffing your feet along the sticky tile, until Eddie pushed the back door open.

"...and fucking Veronica has been taking all the regulars tonight, and I get all these young fucks who don't tip. Fucking bitch, like, she knows that's not fair-"

"-What is your problem tonight?" Eddie frowned.

You blinked, a scoff leaving your lips. "Me? What's my problem? Are you- are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah. You're being mean tonight. What's going on?" Eddie's jaw clenched, teeth grinding together.

"Oh, fuck you, Eddie. I am not being fucking mean, you're such a-"

"Hey," His ringed hand caught your jaw easily, light but firm. "Enough of whatever you're pissed about, alright? You gotta get yourself together. You're being mean to everyone. Not a good look. Killing the vibe, babe."

Your lips pursed, shoving him off of you. "You're a fucking piece of shit, you know that?" You sneered, reaching for the handle of the door. "I'm killing the vibe- fuck you! I'll kill the vibe if I want to."

Eddie's hand smacked onto the door, shutting it before you opened it completely. "What has got you acting like this?" Eddie demanded. You shoved him again, reaching for the handle. "Hey, stop it. I'm being serious, alright? Did someone mess with you? You're supposed to tell me or Ellen. I'll take care of them you know I will. Won't let them mess with you. Just- Can you tell me what's going on with you. Why are you being so mean tonight?"

"You're so fucking annoying." You huffed. "Nothing it wrong with me. You're just pissing me off."

"Yeah? Well, you're pissin' me off, too." Eddie snapped. You faltered at his biting tone. "Pissing me off, and everybody else off with your horrible little attitude."

"I don't have an attitude." You mumbled.

Eddie scoffed. "Yeah fucking right. You've been awful all night, and honestly, I'm sick of it. So is everyone else, so you better stop it now. Alright?"

It was your turn to scoff, a heavy eye roll accompanied. "Yeah? Or what? Huh? What the fuck are you or anyone else gonna do huh? Send me home? Cut me? Please, be my fucking guest."

Eddie moved, pinning you to the door, hands on yours, closing around them firmly. "If you don't quit acting so bitchy and mean, then I'm gonna treat you mean. Give you a taste of your own medicine." Eddie growled, eyes pointed in a fiery glare that had your knees buckling.

"You got me? Keep this shitty little attitude up, and I'm gonna drag you to the back and give you an attitude adjustment. That what you want?"

Your heart jumped at the threat, tummy flipping and pooling with warmth. "Y-You're not going to-" Your voice shook, Eddie's challenging look cutting you off further.

"No? You sure? You really think I won't? Keep it up." Eddie snarled, letting your hands go. "I'm sure everyone would love to see you get put in your place after how awful you've been tonight."

You let out a shuddering breath, watching him reach for his reds, sifting through the pack, curls falling in front of his face. Eddie turned to you, cigarette around his lips. "What?" He asked, flicking the lighter. "You want one?"

Your nose scrunched, grabbing the door handle and yanking it open furiously. Eddie rolled his neck, inhaling deeply. It was going to be a long night.

Though your attitude subdued through most of the night, enough that at least you weren't so hateful outwardly, not slinging mean comments. Instead, you took to glaring, shooting daggers at Eddie. Thankfully, the bar died down enough for the two of you to go home in time, Ellen giving Eddie a wary look over your head while you wrote your time.

"Fuckin' asshole." You sneered, sifting through the wadded bills, flicking the cash into the drawer.

"What's wrong?" Ellen asked, passing the check to the group of girls across the bar.

"That jackass only tipped a dollar." You grit, tucking the singular bill into your bra. "Six beers and four shots, and he tips a dollar? What a piece of shit."

Ellen's lips pursed. "Well, maybe if you were nicer-"

"-I was nice." You snapped defensively.

Eddie's shoulders tensed at your tone, even from his place by the door he could hear it, much clearer now that the place had started to clear out.

Ellen's brow raised, looking at you then to Eddie. He could feel his face flush, mortified at your attitude. "You know what? It's died down, and you..." Ellen shook her head. "Veronica and I can close up tonight. You can go home early."

You scoffed, dumping the glasses into the tray. "I don't have a ride. I came with Eddie. It's fine, I'll start the-"

"-No, Ed!" Ellen waved him over. "You two go home early, alright? Last calls in an hour, it's dying down. We got it."

Eddie wanted to die, melt into the floor. He felt like he was in grade school again, getting in trouble because someone was talking to him, grouped in with the trouble when he was innocent.

You didn't argue, huffing when you split the tips in the jar, stomping away towards the back. "Ellen, hey, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with her tonight. I think she's just in a bad mood-"

"-That's an understatement, Munson." Ellen grumbled, eyes rolling. "Did you two fight or something on the way here?"

"No, we didn't-"

"-Because I'm glad you two are together. I think you're real cute, but if it's going to effect your work like this. I'll have to stop scheduling you two together." Ellen gave him a pointed look. "And that's really gonna be a pain in my ass."

Eddie swallowed, hands buzzing, twisting his rings nervously. "No, I get that. It won't- You don't need to do that. I'll get it under control. This was just a one time thing. She's just having a bad day."

Ellen held his gaze, a stern glare that had Eddie's heart picking up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I hope so. I'm choosing to believe you because I agree, that," Ellen waved towards the back where you were no doubt sulking. "Is out of character."

Eddie nodded, muttering a sigh filled apology. Ellen waved him off. "Hey just make sure you two are good on Tuesday, alright? We'll start fresh. Have a good weekend."

"You too. And you, Veronica, thank you." Eddie waved, pushing the swinging doors towards the back.

He found you next to the lockers, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, foot tapping in annoyance. "What took you so long?" You snapped.

Eddie flinched, blinking back at you in disbelief. "What?"

"I've been waiting. It took you forever." You huffed. "You usually run out of here and tonight, when I'm already in a bad mood, you take forever? Are you just trying to piss me off?"

"Are you?" Eddie snapped. Your eyes widened, face falling at his tone, furious, annoyed.

"What?" You swallowed.

Eddie shook his head at you, grabbing the lock on his locker, spinning the combination. "You're..." Eddie scoffed lightly.

"What? I'm what?" You clicked your tongue in annoyance.

"You're being a real asshole tonight." Eddie looked over his shoulder at you. "Embarrassing, acting like this. Getting sent home early? How are you not embarrassed?"

Heat filled your chest, heavy and suffocating, different that the bubbling rage from before. "I thought you'd be ready to crawl in a hole after Ellen sent you home." Eddie flung the metal door open, letting it hit the others with a loud clank! that had you flinching.

"Then you get me sent home too, and you've got the fucking audacity to be mean? To talk to me like that?" Eddie glared at you over his shoulder. Your frame shrunk, heart pounding in your ears. It was the most subdued you'd been all night.

"I-I didn't get you sent home-"

"-The fuck you didn't." Eddie scoffed, grabbing his keys, his wallet out of the locker, smacking it shut. "You wanna know what was taking to long? I was talking to Ellen. She was telling me if we can't keep our personal life out of work, we can't work together. I was trying to tell her that we didn't get into a fight, and she didn't believe me."

Eddie took a step towards you, time card in hand. "She couldn't believe you were just mean like that unprovoked." Eddie shoved the card in the clock. "So what? You mad at me? Is that what's going on?"

"No." You muttered, looking down at your beat up sneakers, covered with sticky stains from the night.

"So what then? Care to tell me what's wrong? I mean, shit, we're getting sent home now. Feel like you should let me in on what's goin' on." Eddie threw his hands up, keys rattling between his fingers.

"Nothing's wrong-" You sneered, barely registering the ringed hand that caught your chin. Fingers squeezing your cheek in a firm grasp, pulling your gaze to Eddie's.

His eyes lidded, nostrils flaring down at you. "You better watch it." Eddie gritted. "Keep this shit up, and I'll lock that door and fix that attitude in here."

Your tummy flipped, swallowing thickly around the lump in your throat. Agitation fizzled into arousal at the threat. You cursed yourself for feeling that way.

Eddie's eyes squinted, head tipping towards yours slightly. "That what you want?" He huffed, hand still firm on your cheeks. "You acted like this because you wanted me to be mean to you-"

"-No." You sneered, wiggling in his grasp, scared he could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "That's not why."

"So tell me why." Eddie's hand loosened, eyes still pinning you with his gaze. "Tell me what's goin' on."

Your chest sunk with a heavy guilt. Burnt out from tireless hours of work, cranky from lack of sleep, annoyed that Ellen let Pat off for the week when the place had never been busier. All of it eating away at you throughout the week until you finally snapped.

"I just wanna go home." Your tone was softer than before, still teetering on huffy. "I don't want to be in this place for another second. I'm so sick of being here."

Eddie nodded, tongue sliding over his teeth. Keys clenched in his hand, he stayed silent. The car ride uncomfortable silent, neither of you speaking first, the hum of the radio the only refuge.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Eddie broke the silence after nearly an hour. The two of you had gotten back to his trailer, going your separate ways to cool down. He finished a cigarette on the steps, let you do whatever you needed to inside.

He found you by the sink, scrubbing your makeup off. Mascara and eyeliner smeared down your lids, normally, he'd laugh. Squeeze your sides and tell you how metal you looked, silly and playful until you were giggling with him.

Not tonight.

A part of you wished he would have. It would have made you feel better.

That gnawing feeling of uncomfortableness was eating you alive from the inside out. Had your chest feeling tight, skin crawling with irritation. It had only grown worse, now that you were left to reflect on the night- on how you acted.

Eddie moved into the mirror behind you, pulling his shirt off, tossing it in the hamper. You brought the wash cloth back to your face, cleaning the smeared makeup from under your eyes.

Eddie's shoulders slumped. "C'mon." He sighed, softer this time. "What's wrong, baby?" His hands slid over your arms, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. "Tell me what's goin' on. I know something's wrong."

Your nose burned, pressing the warm washcloth to it. "I don't know." You muttered, opening the mirror, plucking the faded lilac case from the shelf.

"I just... I don't know." Your eyes rounded, locking with Eddie's through the mirror. "I just- I don't know how to describe it. I just feel off?"

Eddie nodded slowly, hands resting on your back gently. "Off, how?" Eddie hummed, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. You didn't fight him, melting into his embrace instead. "Tell me what's wrong, honey. I just want you to feel better."

Your head tilted back to his chest, his arms heavy over your frame. "Just off." You muttered. "I feel like I need to just get everything out. Hit the reset button because I'm just so- so, bleh."

Eddie's lips curled gently, swaying you lightly in his arms. "I just am, like, unsettled. I'm so tired from work, but then I get home and I can't sleep, and then people are so fuckin' rude-"

"-Who's rude to you?" Eddie pressed, frowning behind you.

"Just the kids." You roll your eyes, shoulders tensing. "Snotty college kids. They think they're better than you or something."

"So come get me when they do that." Eddie's chin hooked over your shoulder lightly. "I'll take care of them. Kick 'em out."

"Then we'd have nobody." You shook your head lightly. "It's just- I don't know. I just feel really off." You paused, craning your neck to look at Eddie. "I feel like I need to get it all out."

Eddie stilled. "You-You want me to help you with that?" He knew what you were asking. "You want me to... To spank you?" It wasn't the first time you'd done this, still his cheeks burned at the word.

Your sex life was far from vanilla, teetering on outright debaucherous at times. He was no stranger to being mean to you in the bedroom, just like you weren't to him. Still, when you'd asked him the first time, to give you emotional release in this way, it felt a little odd to him at times. To bring pain to you, even if you asked, when all he wanted to do was smother you with affection.

Still, he'd do anything for you. You knew that, he did too.

It was why he swayed so easily. Your eyes rounding, lashes batting so sweetly up at him. "It really would help me feel better." His heart skipped, a sweet tone he'd been longing for all night. "I really think it would help."

Eddie nodded, hands sliding down your arms again, squeezing your elbows gently. You picked the hairbrush off the counter, handing it to him, taking his free hand and guiding him to the bedroom.

He let you settle over his lap, wiggling until you felt comfortable, a pillow under your face. Eddie twirled the hair brush in his hand, fidgeting while you settled. It was still new. How hard did he hit in this scenario? Did he soothe you? Scold you? Say anything at all? When you were playing, it was easier. In a headspace that came naturally with the moment.

"Ok," You hummed, turning to look at him, cheek pressed to the pillow. "'m ready."

Eddie hesitated. "You- And you're gonna tell me, right? When you want me to stop?"

"Yes." You nodded gently. "Just don't stop until I'm crying."

Eddie's cock throbbed, a roller coaster like drop in his stomach at your words. "Baby, I'm serious-"

"-I am too." You frowned. "Eddie, I promise I will tell you if it's too much, but... just please? Until I'm crying then you can stop."

"O-Ok," Eddie's breath stuttered, hand smoothing over your pantie clad ass, cheeky cotton panties that had his brain trailing off. "I'm gonna, I'm starting."

You settled back into the pillow, Eddie's hand rubbing down your back soothingly. Your free hand snaked up, folding over the middle of your back, fingers wiggling at Eddie's. A sweet gesture that made his heart swell, interlocking his fingers with yours, pinning your hand gently to your back.

The hair brush's smooth wood pressed to your ass, tapping in a warning that had your hips clenching lightly. Eddie hesitated, bringing the hairbrush up, then lower, readjusting his aim, before letting it fall. A soft clap met with a tiny grunt from you.

"You can do harder than that, Ed." You muttered.

"Harder? Are you sure?" Eddie hoped you couldn't feel his heart beating. "I don't wanna hurt you when you're not feeling good, baby."

"You're not hurting me. You're helping me. I swear." You said softly, squeezing his hand gently, reassuringly. "You can do harder than that. I'll let you know if it's too much."

Eddie brought the hairbrush higher, sending it soaring down with a firm smack that had your breath hitching. He waited, your hips squirming in his lap.

"That was good. Just like that, Ed." You whispered, taking a deep breath in through the burn in your nose.

Two identical hits fell to each of your cheeks, a tiny squeak of a cry coming from you. Your grip tightening against his hand with every fall of the hairbrush. Eddie was more confident, fell into a rhythm that felt more comfortable.

Hips wiggling, tiny whimpers and cries coming from you, rotating from cheek to cheek, lower then higher. Eddie brought the hairbrush down, a flick in his wrist that was sharper, stinging against your skin.

A tiny hitch, a sniffle that sounded watery had his ears perking. Eddie paused, feeling the hitch in your chest. "Keep going." You gritted, a white knuckled grip around his hand. "Keep going, Ed. Please."

Eddie brought the hair brush down again, twice, sharp flicks that had you crying out- a real cry, broken and breathy. Unsure, Eddie shushed you sweetly, letting the hair brush fall onto your upturned ass again.

"Shh, it's alright. You're doin' good, sweetheart. Let it out." Eddie rasped, cracking the hairbrush down again. "Doin' good for me."

The next fall of the hairbrush had a cry breaking though your throat, tears springing in your waterline, threatening to fall. The bubble in your chest filling fuller and fuller, close to bursting with the building irritation on your ass.

"You're doin' good. I know you've got to be feeling better." Eddie soothed. "You still good? Need me to stop."

"No," You cried, shaking your head. "K-Keep going, Eddie, please, keep going. D-Do it fast. Fast ones."

Eddie let the hair bursh rain down in quick successions, all over your ass, sharp smacks that had you gritting your teeth in irritation, eyes clenching shut until finally, you felt a wave wash over you. Heavy with emotions, it crashed into you, body shaking in sobs.

Face pressed into the pillow, you cried into the soft cotton, rubbing your face against the pillow case to soothe yourself. Eddie slowed, stopping when your hand loosened in his, body slack and shaking with sobs.

Eddie held you, arms tight around you though it felt like it was more for him. Soft coos and whispers, a hand rubbing down your spine. He hoped you couldn't feel his erection pressing into you. He felt torn, arousal he couldn't help but felt wrong when you were crying. Sobs so deep, stuttering in your chest and rocking your frame.

He hadn't realized how exhausted you were, a pang of guilt ringing through his chest when you started to slump in his arms. Usually, he'd get you calmed down, finish off the night between your legs, to make you feel better or maybe him.

Tonight, he let you settling into the mattress, rolling you onto your side, tucking the pillow under your knees, how you always slept. He wasn't sure how it was comfortable, teased you about it the first time he saw it. "It helps with my back, I swear." You had giggled, hiking a leg up over the pillow and settling into the mattress. Eddie didn't care how you slept, honestly, if it meant you'd sleep next to him.

Settling you under the blankets, Eddie carried the hair brush back into the bathroom, setting it back on the vanity's counter. He pulled the Jergens off the shelf, hand wrapping around his length, relieving himself. Tomorrow, he'd take care of you, spend the day in bed with you if you wanted, hopeful but certain that you'd be better in the morning.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (you're here)/ Part Four

A03

It ain’t much.” Wayne started, half-curious if the sight of his trailer would be the thing to offend Steve’s (so far lacking) born-rich sensibilities. 

Of course turning to look at the kid proved he was in his own head about this more than Steve was, because Steve had his eyes closed and looked two seconds away from puking. 

Right. 

Pain management. 

“I’ll get your stuff.” Wayne said as he guided the truck to its usual parking spot. 

Steve’s quiet ‘okay’ had him hustling a little bit, and the fact he had to gently guide the kid’s hand off his bag handle told him it was the right choice. 

The nailbat could wait in the car for the moment he figured, as he led Harrington in. He’d get it sorted once he’d fished out the pain pills and gotten Steve settled a bit. 

"Eds--he's my nephew that I told you about--has the bedroom, so you and I get to share out here." Wayne explained as he loaded Steve up on Tylenol and put a bag of frozen peas in his hand, not bothering to give a tour of the trailer. 

It was pretty damn clear which door led to the bathroom and which didn’t, given Ed’s door was wide open. 

Steve peeked at the absolute chaos strewn about beyond the doorframe but didn’t say nothing of it. 

Didn’t, in fact, even look too long, instead sitting at the table as directed. 

Seemed to sink a little into it, leaning an elbow on the cheap wood to help keep his head up. 

"The couch is a pull out, but I'll warn you the bar across the middle is nasty. I usually sleep on the cot over there," Wayne nodded to where it was rolled neatly against the opposite wall, "but given the state of you, I'll let ya have your pick." 

Steve blinked (or winked, not like Wayne could tell since the peas were pressed against half of his face) finally seeming to perk up a bit. "I can't take your bed." 

"I'm not going to fight you for it, I'm just offering." Wayne responded, now focused on trying to locate the bandages in his ancient medical kit. 

The one on Steve's hand was falling apart, and he didn't like the look of the injury he could see under it. 

Yeah, Wayne was absolutely going to need to make a run to the store. 

“Lemme see.” He asked as he finally got what he wanted. 

It seemed to take Harrington a minute to process what Wayne wanted, but he finally held out his injured hand, watching as Wayne unwrapped the bandages.

"I'll take the couch." Steve said stubbornly, but Wayne was past it, too busy frowning at the kid's hand. 

It took him a moment, once he'd gotten it all off, to properly realize what he was seeing--that the mottled bruising on Steve's wrist was separate from the cut across his palm.

In fact, it looked a hell of a lot like…

Wayne paused, then pretended to fuss with the dirty bandages for a moment while his eyes sought out Steve's other wrist.

Sure enough, matching bruises.

Someone had tied the kid up--and it hadn’t been the feds, because these bruises were partially healed. 

Wayne had initially thought of Steve as having been tortured in the same way roving bands of neighborhood kids tortured their peers. The kind of hurt that came when it was an unfair fight; four on one and wielding knives, so you had to take what you were given and pray you didn't get stabbed. 

He was not thinking actual, honest to God torture. 

Yet here the evidence was, plain as day.

'What the hell went down in that mall.' 

Someone as young as Steve shouldn't have been caught up in it, and it made a deep part of Wayne ache for the poor kid across from him.  

All this shit, and his parents still couldn't be bothered to come home.Just left him on his own, as if it was another Tuesday. 

Did they even know? Wayne wondered as he got to work. Had Steve, or Hopper, or anyone tried to call them about the mallfire? Let them know their son got hurt?

Jim said he hadn’t bothered to reach out regarding the spooks, but that had been a week or so later past the fire. 

Wayne couldn’t even imagine it. 

Getting a call that Eddie been involved in such a thing would have him off the couch in an instant, and the image that played on the news, the ones all the reporters talked over of a gurney being wheeled out of Starcourt’s on fire front doors…

He’d have been a wreck until he had his kid in his sights. 

‘Nothing you can do for that,’ Wayne figured silently, ‘but you can help him now.’

Wayne wasn't exactly an expert when it came to wound care, but like many people who just couldn't afford to go to a doctor he'd gotten by.

Learned a lot of home remedies. Figured out pretty quick when something needed to be seen by an expert and when you could hold off.

Made friends with some of the local nurses on the night shift down at the Red Barn, well enough that a few well baked treats and dishes could sometimes be traded for looking over a potentially broken arm or two. 

It had come in handy plenty, given Ed’s ability to attract trouble, but thankfully he’d never managed to hurt himself like this. 

He’d never even gotten caught in a bad fight. 

A black eye or two sure, but the kid had adapted his “scary” act not too long after Wayne had gotten him, and it seemed to work as intended. It was half the reason Wayne never said anything about it (and hell, even let Eddie take his ancient leather motorcycle jacket.) .

All of that was to say that he could tell Harrington's hand needed cleaning before it could be rebandaged, but didn't appear to need stitches. 

Course pouring alcohol all over an injury like this wasn't exactly going to be fun, and he told Steve as such.

"I know." Steve replied, with a grimace. The kid’s injuries seemed to be getting to him, and Wayne anticipated he was going to drop here the second Wayne was done looking him over. 

He hoped Harrington could get in a few hours--particularly before Eddie came home. 

Wayne gently wiped it clean, noting how well Steve sat given the amount of pain he had to be in.

Tylenol, even given the more than recommended amount he'd given Steve, just wasn't going to cut it. 

Not in general, and definitely not for this. 

What could help was likely something Eds had, which was yet another conversation Wayne wasn't looking forward to having.

Particularly given that Eds had sworn off selling hard drugs after his last encounter with Hopper, and Wayne knew damn well that had only lasted until the damn kid caught sight of an overdue bill. 

Too smart for his own good, Eddie was.

"I can give you something to bite down on, if you like." Wayne said to Steve, getting the alcohol and bandages ready to go. 

He got a tight smile in response. "So long as you don't use a needle, I'm good." 

And Wayne figured it was just teenager talk--a young man who didn't really know how bad this was going to be, and prepared himself to hold Steve's arm down accordingly so they wouldn't have to do it twice.

"Four." Wayne counted down. "Three. Two."

He poured on two.

Better that than Steve clenching up in anticipation.

Steve hissed, arm jerking, but stilled it under his own power as Wayne began dabbing his hand with some of the medkit’s wipes. 

He felt his eyebrow raise as Harrington froze himself in place, breathing in a way that felt practiced. 

This, Wayne decided, was not Steve's first rodeo. 

"Almost done." He promised softly as he finished wrapping the wound back up, this time in the pattern he'd been shown long ago. 

"Thanks." Steve said, blinking rapidly. 

The kid's eyes were wet, but he didn't let a tear fall, and that perked Wayne's attention more than anything. 

Some men felt they weren't allowed to cry--and pushed the same ideals on their sons. 

It wouldn't surprise him any if Richard Harrington was one of them. 

"I know you got hit more than just your hands and face kid." Wayne said, after letting Steve have a moment to recover. "You bleeding under that shirt?"

"Not bleeding." Steve murmured, looking more and more like he was struggling to stay upright now that the worst part was over. "I think my hand got the worst of it."

"Do I want to know what happened there?" Wayne asked, keeping his voice calm and non judgemental. 

Like they were back to talking sports.

"I fell back into a broken window.” Steve responded, and now that Wayne had seen the kid lie, it was easy to see when he was telling the truth. 

"Ouch." Wayne said flatly. Which made that hint of a smile flash across Steve's face. 

"I'll cut you a deal. I taped last weekend's game, but haven't had time to watch it yet. I figure you might not have had a chance neither." He sat back, nailing Harrington with a no-nonsense stare. "You let me take a look at what they did to your chest n' back there, and I'll put it on."

Steve just looked at him a little miserably, a beaten dog still hesitant to wag its tail. "I don't think there's anything you can do for it, it's really mostly bruised. Nothing feels broken though."

"You know what broken ribs feel like?" Wayne questioned partially out of curiosity but mostly to make sure.

Teenage boys loved to think themselves immortal after all.

Or at least his did.

"Cracked, but yeah." Steve admitted. "Couldn't finish out the year on the basketball team because of it."

He said it like it didn't hurt, but Wayne knew better.

Boy like Steve? 

He'd bet big bills something like basketball was all the kid really had, in terms of positive relationships.

(Except apparently, whatever had made Hopper decide to look after him.)

"I mostly just wanna make sure nothing looks like it's broken or bleeding internally son." Wayne said, then tried to cinch it with some good old guilt tripping. "I'd hate to have to tell Hopper that after all he went through to keep you safe, you up and died on my couch." 

"Hey, it might save him some future gray hairs." Steve responded but he looked a little more open to the idea, at least. 

It took a bit more coaxing, but Wayne finally got the kid to take his shirt off. 

The damage had him whistling out of instinct.

A fucking artist had gone to town on his torso, with bruised of all shades parading around to his left side. 

Thankfully most of it didn't hold that deep, dark tone that indicated any kind of bleeding, his back had scratches and road rash, and his shoulder had one long, thin line that looked a hell of a lot like Steve had narrowly avoided getting cut with a knife. 

"You got lucky, kid." Wayne told him.

Steve let out a shaky breath. "I know." 

He hesitated, then opened his mouth, a question clear on his face. 

Which of course, was the exact moment Eddie chose to walk through the door. 

"Hey old man, I--Harrington!?" 

"Munson?" Steve said, looking just as confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here?" Eddie had frozen in their little entryway, so close the door nearly whacked him on the ass as it slammed closed. 

Privately, Wayne cursed his nephew's awful timing.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie challenged back, and it was only years of Wayne knowin’ the kid to see he was struggling to decide how he wanted to react. 

“Uh…” Steve said, trailing off and looking pointedly at Wayne. 

Eddie saw this just as he registered all of Steve’s injuries. “Shit Wayne, did you hit him with your car?” 

“Don’t try to be funny, boy.” Wayne warned. There wasn’t much bite there, and Eddie, far too used to him, didn’t take it seriously.

Eddie was glued to the spot, eyes narrowing, “... Did Harrington hit the car with his fuckin’ face? Jesus christ.” 

Wayne could tell he was struggling to pull one of his usual little bits, eyes too wide and voice too high. 

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Eddie.”

“We can take him out back and shoot him, put the poor bastard out of his misery.” Eddie continued, like a runaway train. 

All gas, no breaks. 

It was a joke but a poor one, and it made Steve straighten out of his sideways slant. 

‘Dammit.’  Wayne thought with a sigh. 

He needed to stop this now, before the two of them went for each other's throats. 

“Since you already know each other I won’t bother with introductions.” Wayne cut in, before Eddie could blow up like a tea kettle--or cause Harrington to do the same. “Steve’s gonna be staying with us for a while.”

That of course, got the reaction Wayne had been hoping to avoid. 

Eddie stood stunned for a second, mouth gaping like a fish. 

“Why!?” He finally landed on, seeming both at a loss for words, and equally trying not to have a proper meltdown in front of Steve. 

Certainly wasn’t for Wayne’s benefit. 

"I'm…" Steve glanced at Wayne a second time, "...on vacation?"

 It took everything Wayne had in him not to run a hand down his face. 

He was going to give Harrington a pass, on account of the head trauma.

"You’re vacationing here.”Eddie’s tone was flat, but seething, like a lit fuse. “In my living room?” 

“...Yeah?” He finished poorly tone up-ticking at the end like it was a question. “It’s a--college thing. Supposed to help my applications.” 

This time, Wayne did run a hand down his face this time. 

God save him from idiot teenagers. 

Hands clenched tight, Eddie took an aborted glance to the right before shaking his head hard and scoffing. At least it let Wayne know exactly what his kid was thinking. 

To Eddie’s right was the counter where Wayne kept the bills. 

Before he realized just how badly Ed’s daddy had messed him up about such things, Wayne hadn’t bothered to hide the bills that were past due. Turns out the kid noticed such things, and worry over money had been the leading factor in more than one of Eddie’s run-ins with Hop.

Clearly, he thought it was the cause of Wayne entertaining this bullshit. 

Offense was written in every rigid line of his body, and Wayne knew betrayal wasn’t gonna be far behind. 

“What the hell Wayne!” Eddie spat, taking a singular step forward, the accent he tried so hard to hide growing thicker the madder he got. “We’re not a damn experiment--why would you agree to that!?” 

He had seconds to salvage this, before Ed’s ran and did something dumb. 

“‘Steve’s here cause I owe Hopper a favor.” Wayne answered honestly, standing to put himself between the two. “He reminded me of all the times he’s been good to you, and then he called it in. Now,” 

He cut Eddie off before his rant could pick up steam and bowl them all over. “I need you both to listen to me. Steve, I need Eddie to know the basics in order to keep you safe. I’ll only tell him what he needs to hear to understand why that is.” 

Steve stared at him for a moment, catching Wayne’s eye as the elder man positioned himself so he could see both boys at once.

“Okay.” Steve said, dropping the hesitant tone for something serious. 

Eddie said nothing, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and gripping the edges of his jacket hard enough to leave creases. 

Judging that as good enough, Wayne continued. “He’s not here on vacation, Ed’s. Hopper has asked us to house Steve for a bit due to an ongoing situation. It’s a dangerous one, and it’s important you do not tell anyone that Steve is here.”

Eddie’s mouth did the thing it did when he desperately wanted to say something, but Wayne held up a finger in the universal “wait.” position. 

“Let me finish.” He warned, and though he caught a hell of a glare for it, Eddie remained silent. 

“Right now I need you to trust me, son.” He said softly, and prayed that alone was enough for now. “I don’t do things without a good reason behind it. I know you know that. Let me get Steve settled, and I’ll come talk to you.” 

He could go in depth a little more, outside of Harrington’s eyesight. There Eddie would be inclined to drop the parts of his personality he put on blast as a defense mechanism, and ideally, Steve could get the sleep he so desperately needed. 

“It’ll be tight, but we’ll all get through this so long as you two keep your heads. “You both got plenty of problems right now on your own, you don’t need to add to it. You understand?”  

Eddie’s eyes narrowed dramatically as he sucked in a deep breath. 

“Fine.” He snarled, letting air hiss through his clenched teeth. “As long as King Dick here can keep himself out of my shit.”

Steve didn’t rise to the bait--or perhaps, was simply too tired to want to do anything but exit the conversation. 

‘Yes Sir.” He said instead, and Wayne didn’t bother correcting him that time. Simply clocked the title as a nervous tick of Steve’s and let himself feel that brief pang of sorrow that he’d caused the kid to backslide a bit trust wise.

No use for it, though.

Not if he wanted peace in his home. 

“Good.” Wayne said. 

Eddie stormed past, beeling towards his room. 

The door closed with an angry slam, the sound echoing throughout the trailer. 

Steve reacted like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out his own breath and going right back to slumping sideways. 

“Come on kid.” Wayne said quietly. “I think it’s beyond time you got to lay down. Let’s get you a shirt and some blankets.”

Steve didn’t say a word, just managed to get himself up and over to the couch, fumbling for his bag. 

“Oh.” He said after a moment, pulling a green sweater from the duffel and blinking dully at it. “Shit--I mean, shoot.” He shot a guilty look to Wayne, like Eddie hadn’t just sworn up a storm in front of them both. 

“What’s the matter?” Wayne just asked. 

“It’s nothing, I just-- grabbed the wrong bag.” Steve told him earnestly. It was clear the day had taken a hard toll on him, because he was blinking rapidly, fighting away sleep. 

A bad sign, given the energy Eddie had just come in with. 

It should be taking him longer to feel safe to drop off, and that he was doin’ so anyway was a bad testament to the state of him. 

“You need a different one?”

Steve shook his head. “No this is just my grab bag for the Upsi-errrm.” He hummed, before falling silent for a minute. 

Wayne let him fish for words at his leisure. 

“These are just clothes that I couldn’t get stains out of, kept them as backups.” Steve managed, before beginning the long process of pulling a shirt on. 

Wayne almost offered to help, except he knew he’d likely be rejected. It was too soon, the trust between them not there yet. 

He almost let the clothing comment go, figured it as  just one of those things the brain did when it was injured and run down. The sweater Steve was struggling with was expensive and soft, and Wayne didn’t even see a stain until the poor kid finally finished getting it on. 

He nearly froze, for the second time that day, when he did.

On one sleeve, smeared like Steve had wiped his face with it, was a bloodstain. 

This one was old, and clearly attempts had been made to get it out. 

‘Aw kid.’ He thought, staring at Steve as the kid managed to swing himself up on the couch, looking seconds away from dropping off. ‘What the hell has life done to you.’

It didn’t take long before sleep took him, but Wayne watched over him for a bit longer anyway, working up to what the hell he was going to tell his kid. 

Eddie might very well not forgive him for this, but Wayne had a shot now to head things off before they got worse. 

He just had to find the right words. 

[cobragardens]

The Colors of Crowley

Black is the color Crowley uses to cover himself, red is the color that represents Crowley to himself, and yellow is the color that represents Crowley to Aziraphale. What each color symbolizes and how it's used give us important information about Crowley (and to some degree Aziraphale) and about the ineffable relationship.

I feel kind of dumb writing this post because I'm sure it's glaringly obvious to everyone else, but there's this Metro UK article of all things (the Metro is owned by the hardcore rightwing Daily Mail, btw, so please don't link to it) that mentions the red stitching on Crowley's gloves in 1867, and it made conscious some details I had only subconsciously noted, so fwiw to anybody else, here are my notes on the colors associated with Crowley in Good Omens and their significance in the context of the way each one is used.

I don't think we need to cover black-as-evil in Western color symbology. [And yet here's a long-ass paragraph about it anyway! --Ed.] Light:dark::good:evil has been a thing with Christianity since before Christianity was even Judaism. The Israelites picked it up from the Zoroastrians way back before YHWH had subsumed El as 'God,' which may have been before they were Israelites as well; I mean it was a LONG time ago. Good Omens has been using black and white to represent Hell and Heaven, respectively, long before the show. In the UK, the book was published in paperback with a choice of black or white cover with an illustration of the contrasting character in the contrasting color: Crowley illustrated in black, Aziraphale in white. The current hardcover is grey.

Crowley wears black, and the Bentley is black. At the metanarrative or authorial level this is obviously for the purposes of the black/white demon/angel contrast, but on the intra-narrative level, the Watsonian level, it's interesting to note that Crowley doesn't have to wear black. He's obviously not free to choose from the full color palette, but Furfur's shirt and sash are is dark emerald green, Dagon is in ultramarine (as befits a marine Elder God), and Shax has only been on Earth for four years before she's wearing head-to-toe oxblood. When she shows up later in battle dress she's got a lot of oxblood there, too. And yet Crowley wears black.

Authorial reasons aside, black suits Crowley for a couple intra-narrative reasons. For much of history, black was the most expensive color to dye and maintain in clothing, and as a result it has always been fashionable. And for several centuries in Christendom, wearing black was also a sign that you were in mourning, which was a social and religious obligation when someone close to you died. Whether you could wear other colors with it depended on how long ago that death had occurred.

Again: black is what Crowley chooses to cover himself, and as there is a sharp distinction between how Crowley presents himself to fulfill his obligations and who he thinks of himself as being, there is likewise a distinction between the colors that represent those two quantities as well.

Red is the color the show uses to represent Crowley to Crowley. The most obvious reason is his hair. This is another change from Book Omens, where Crowley is described as having hair that is "dark." A lot of fans in the UK hated the change when S1 came out because fans hate change and the British have a thing against gingers, but Crowley's red hair suits him better than dark imo because the Mother of Demons in Jewish religious literature, Lilith, is traditionally depicted with red hair. Red hair has been associated for more than a millenium in the Middle East and England and Wales with sorcery, witchcraft, demonic influence/possession, and satan-worship.

Crowley wishes his mom was this cool with snakes.

A good case can be made that Crowley genuinely likes the color red in addition to considering it demonically appropriate. I say this for three reasons. Firstly, because when he has a (limited) choice of (again, demonically appropriate) colors, he always chooses red. The marble of the desk in his apartment is not green or grey. He can have any color stitching on his gloves or lining of his jacket collar he wants, but it's always red. Secondly, it's not only red he chooses, it's almost always bright red.

We know Crowley's red isn't supposed to represent blood or violence, because we have another demon character whose use of red represents just that, and it's not the same red:

Compare Shax' oxblood and burgundy to

and

and

and

Crowley's red isn't just red, it's lipstick, cherry, crimson red. And in case we weren't sure that we should read this red as symbolizing passionate, romantic love:

Romantic symbolism aside, bright red is also the color of passion (romantic or otherwise), optimism, heat, vitality, life, (hell)fire, and warning.

Red and black says don't fuck with Jack.

The third reason I think we can safely say that Crowley actually likes the color red is that he hides it. It's always tiny little touches, some of which you have to look for to see. (I still don't know where they snuck in the red on his Elizabethan habit, e.g.) And we know this color is a risk for him, and that he is right to hide it, because Ligur, who doesn't approve of any of Crowley's less-than-fully-demonic embellishments and may share Hastur's opinion that Crowley has gone native, comments on one of Crowley's more noticeably colorful items.

And I think the red tells us one more thing about Crowley, too.

Bright red is the colorest of colors, you know? When we can choose only one color to represent all colors, to represent colorfulness itself, we choose bright red (even in cultures where red symbolizes other meanings than it does in Western art).

Remember how Aziraphale gives Crowley's jacket a tartan collar when he swaps bodies with Crowley and impersonates him in Hell because Aziraphale feels the need to maintain some small secret token of his identity, some tiny unremarked sign of something he loves and thinks is beautiful, when he is down there alone in the gloom among enemies?

Crowley is down there alone among enemies every second of every day and night, whether he's in Hell or on Earth. And he's already had his identity stripped from him once. If you were someone who said

about this

and then you got recruited by the fash downstairs bc the fash upstairs threw you out for not being fashy enough and you had to start wearing nothing but dark colors and more importantly had to hide everything that made you feel warmth or softness or joy, and that was it, that was the deal for eternity, but you could add one (1) little touch to everything you wore to remind yourself that there is some beautiful part of you left, something you loved once, that no one has yet been able to steal or brutalize out of you...what color would the stitching on your gloves be?

Lastly, Yellow represents Crowley to Aziraphale. I'm going to skip the chain of evidence for this bc I think it's obvious, but the way it's used also lends itself to some inferences supported in other areas in the show.

Here's where I think changing Crowley's hair to red from Book Omens' dark is a good decision in another way. Crowley always has red hair, and if he has any color in his clothes it's going to be red. Red is eye-catching; it always stands out, but it doesn't stand out as demonic. And yet the color Aziraphale associates with Crowley and calls "pretty" isn't red.

I suspect that when Aziraphale says he can make Crowley an angel again, Crowley hears "You're not good enough for me to accept you as you are, let me fix you" because these are words Aziraphale has said to him many times, and has meant some of those times. But

tells the audience differently. The color Aziraphale associates with Crowley, the color he calls "pretty," is the color of Crowley's only overtly demonic feature. Aziraphale doesn't love the angel he knew who isn't Crowley, he loves Crowley, the demon, the person he is now, his yellow demon irises.

Yellow appears in three other places in S2, and they're all symbolically significant, and in fact serve to establish another symbolic significance to the color yellow in addition to that of Yellow Is the Color of My True Love's Eyes.

One of them is a feather duster:

Crowley reacts to a feather duster like a cat confronted by an unfamiliar object

The other three are private conversations between Aziraphale and Crowley:

The walls that surround Crowley and Aziraphale when they speak openly about their situation and how they will handle it are drenched in yellow, and that is super interesting, because in Western color symbolism yellow is the color of fear. The archangel of whom Crowley and Aziraphale are both (rightly) terrified wields a tool the color of fear. The color of fear saturates the backdrop of conversations between Aziraphale and Crowley when they have to discuss their situation and their actions openly.

Remember how Aziraphale's voice shakes here?

Crowley realizes the crows have just handed an angel evidence the angel can take to Hell and use to have Crowley killed

Even the Bentley, that clear sign of Aziraphale's love for Crowley, is also a yellow coffin enclosing him. For Aziraphale, thoughts of Crowley are always entangled with fear, because Crowley is not just Crowley, he is also Crowley's Fall.

And I think fear is what Crowley's eyes themselves represent. For Crowley, fear is now a fundamental part of his perception, his nature, his identity.

The angel Aziraphale once knew is not Crowley, and yet from what we've seen, the chiefest difference in character between this sweetheart and this mischief-maker--

--is that the Starmaker does not know yet that he should be afraid, and the Serpent does. That knowledge and its fear has, shall we say, colored his view of the world.

Aziraphale learns that fear early by observing others rather than Falling himself, and knows enough that by the first time we meet him in the Before, he is already afraid.

Pink was once symbolically equivalent to red; in modern Western color symbology it is a color of innocence, youth, beauty, and first love. Hashtag just sayin'.

The cruellest thing this suggests to me is that, rather than rebellion or his propensity to ask questions, rather than the knowledge of good and evil, the Starmaker's Fall was caused by his innocence. it wasn't the questions that were the problem: it was that he didn't know any better than to speak them out loud.

Y'all, Crowley and Aziraphale do not suffer from communication problems. Despite both being male-coded and British, they don't even seem to lack emotional intelligence. What they do have is a universe of silence and fear they have to communicate within and around. What they lack is the safety to speak and love freely. The true color of Crowley is crimson, but someone gave him those eyes, and Aziraphale either watched that happen or knew about it, and now Crowley covers himself in black--which btw is also the symbolic color for mystery and secrets--and only lets Aziraphale see him as he really is now, because Aziraphale won't judge him for his yellow eyes (or punish and forsake him for his questions). Because Aziraphale carries that fear with him too.

[moonpascaltoo]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all eddie munson stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST • STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST • 04/16/24

⚄ @luveline

⚔︎ june baby

⭒ singlemom!reader

⚔︎ is it getting to much

⭒ you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can)

⚔︎ dark matter

⭒ You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you.

⚄ @corroded-hellfire

⚔︎ as you wish

⭒When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

⚔︎ request

⚄ @munson-blurbs

⚔︎ clueless

⭒Everyone can tell that you like Eddie. Except for Eddie.

⚔︎ boob man

⭒ eddie is a boob man

⚔︎ i want you to want me

⭒ You've been crushing on Eddie since you joined Hellfire Club. Too bad he's crushing on Chrissy Cunningham...right?

⚄ hurt feelings by @munsonson

⚔︎ Eddie breaks up with Reader for being boring, giving her the impression they just weren’t right for each other. Unfortunately for him, he realizes too late how big of a mistake this was.

⚄ red soaking wet by @taintedcigs

⚔︎ you and your boyfriend eddie decide to have some fun in the living room, what you fail to notice is that your boyfriends roommate steve is also awake. and he can’t help himself.

⚄ soft touches by @msgexymunson

⚔︎ you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

⚄ oops pt2 by @dakotalun

⚔︎ Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

⚄ @lovebugism

⚔︎ request

⭒ you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him

⚔︎ drunk in love

⭒ “you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

⚄ @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

⚔︎ request

⚔︎ firefighter!eddie

⚄ @ashwhowrites

⚔︎ request

⚔︎ cheerleader cupid

⚔︎ secrets out

⚄ @andvys

⚔︎ no could save me but you pt2

⭒ You couldn't save him in time but you couldn’t let death take him either so you made a bargain that caused you to pay a high price

⚔︎ love will tear us apart

⭒ Eddie convinced himself that he hates the girl that took over his mind the moment he laid eyes on her. The girl that he saved without even knowing it.

⚔︎ i’m begging for you to take my hand

⭒ It's a hot summer afternoon when Eddie's life changes for the better, and two very special people step into his life.

⚄ candygram by @hellfirenacht

⚔︎ It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.

⚄ you’re clueless you know that by @magicalmysteries777

⚔︎ You agree to accompany Steve to Enzo's for Valentine's Day with only one shared goal in mind - to make Eddie so jealous he has no choice but to have the one conversation he's being avoiding.

⚄ 86’ baby by @strangerquinns

⚔︎ It's Senior Year for Hawkins High School Class of '86. But while most are dealing with the pressure of finales, the threat of the Upside Down looms over you and your friends. But an old friend is soon pulled into the darkness, and all you hope to do is save him while pushing away old feelings.

⚄ driving lessons by @moonstruckme

⚄ the prettiest girl in the room by @obsessedelusional

⚔︎ You shared a secret relationship with Eddie, if that’s what you could even consider it. You wished for more but never could bring yourself to tell Eddie this. What happens when your at a party and he gets dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room?

⚄ @bimbobaggins69

⚔︎ love in the locker room

⭒ you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

⚔︎ dial a thrill

⭒ you and your ex broke up more than five months ago and you’ve refused to start dating again, even the thought of a one night stand puts a bad taste in your mouth but on a lonely night something you thought you’d never be desperate enough to do, becomes as tempting as ever.

⚄ on the outside by @lesservillain

⚄ slip of the lip by @boomhauer

⚔︎ Abandoned by Hellfire on movie night, Eddie finds another way to entertain himself.

⚄ ribbons, cheerleaders, eddie by @weehelers

⚔︎ eddie is surprised to see a hawkins high tigers uniform in a heavy metal shop. but he’s even more surprised to see it belongs to hawkins high’s golden girl y/n l/n

⚄ @ghost-proofbaby

⚔︎ twenty four hours

⭒ in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

⚔︎ a simple life

⭒you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

⚄ let me be your goodnight by @eddiesxangel

⚔︎ temporary fix 1D song fic

⚄ knockin on heavens door by @allthingsjoeq

⚔︎ Eddie meets reader when he’s locked himself out of his place, only wearing a towel, and it’s freezing out…

⚄ his hands by @fairyysoup

⚔︎ How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

⚄ @galaxy-siren

⚔︎ bad idea

⭒ tutoring Eddie leads to you proving you are more than the teacher’s pet. 

⚔︎ twos company, there’s a crowd

⭒ So Dustin ends up meeting a nice girl and smart in the science club (reader), and ends up talking at the lunch table that he has fallen in love with the girl. Eddie becomes jealous when he learns that Dustin is talking about his girlfriend and becomes protective.

⚄ dirty little secret by @mouthfullofmunson

⚔︎ Eddie is in desperate need of a fake girlfriend after lying to his band mates about his dream girl.

⚄ my favorite customer by @loveshotzz

⚔︎ You’ve been buying weed from your new dealer for a few months now. Always leaving it in your mailbox while you’re at work, you two never cross paths until one Friday night when you come home early.

⚄ ahoy by @violetrainbow412-blog

⚔︎ In some timeline, Starcourt didn't burn down and Eddie was able to go to work selling ice cream. He and Steve make a little bet, from which Eddie comes out happy.

⚄ overheard pt2 by @gaybybirth

⚔︎Bringing Dustin's laundry into his room is usually a fairly uneventful task, especially when he's not there. But when he leaves his radio on and Eddie's slurred words sneak through the static, you overhear something you know you're not supposed to. How the hell are you supposed to react the next time you see Eddie after you accidentally overhear him saying he had a sex dream about you?

⚄ @storiesforallfandoms

⚔︎ jason doesn’t know

⭒ jason doesn’t know that his girlfriend and eddie do it in his van every sunday

⚔︎ oblivious

⭒ in which he has a huge crush on the scoops ahoy girl, but she's too oblivious to notice

⚄ the girlfriend experience by @kiwi-bitchez

⚔︎ Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around.

⚄ i’ll make it up to you by @stranger-nightmare

⚔︎ Eddie’s been distant and self conscious about his body ever since the bat incident in the upside down, meaning the two of you haven’t slept together for a while, when you finally confront him on it he vows to make it up to you...

⚄ best kept secret by @mysticmunson

⚔︎ eddie munson is hated by every man in town, but secretly loved by all the ladies, and not just for his large personality.

⚄ the freaks by @manicformunson

⚔︎ Reader's friends find out about her crush on Eddie Munson and tease her about it constantly until one lunch period they take it too far

⚄ off limits by @loveronlineee

⚔︎ When Dustin sees something between Eddie and his sister, he forbids them from talking to each other, but that won’t stop them secretly meeting up.

⚄ enough for you by @tbrxnnan

⚔︎ in which you and eddie munson break up. based on the song by olivia rodrigo.

⚄ movie night by @say-al0e

⚔︎ You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited.

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3