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eddiernunson · 3 months

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

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Word Count: 10k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” You ask him, grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie, make me cum, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m counting on it.”

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

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

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

“Don’t tell my wife.”

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

“Upstairs.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brooke. W-why are you calling me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon, Dyl–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, send in Joe, will ya?”

“On it!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. You want me to–”

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

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

“Seriously, I got it. Thanks, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not done!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me guess. Arlo?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“No way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup. Are you interested?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that’s a lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let us know any updates, won’t you?”

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

“Oh, you’re on, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fucking love you so much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M or H?” Kayla asks.

“M.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kayla turns around in confusion, questioning what just happened.

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, can’t wait to meet her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, she is, uh, are you her–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gross!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————-

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daddy-dins-girl · 3 months

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Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

Next Chapter

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#pedro pascal cinematic universe #dave york #marcus pike #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x dave york #marcus pike smut #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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kiss-me-cill-me · 6 months

Text

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 4

Start with Pt. 1 HERE! ~ Jump back to previous Pt. 3 HERE!

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Smut below the cut, very light manhandling, dirty talk, praise, overall just gentle Neil being an adorable dork

A/N: This is sort of a bonus chapter that is just pure fluffy smut. There is no plot to be found, so if you were here for the story and not the smut, you can safely skip this entire part. But if you are here for the smut, welcome lol. Either way, thank you to everyone for your support on this fluffy little story! I had a lot of fun writing it and am kind of sad it's over, but this is definitely not the last of Neil that you'll be seeing from me ;)

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

The walk to Neil’s house was short, but felt like an eternity. It was you who did most of the teasing that made the journey so painfully long.

Neil tried to put his arm around your shoulder as you walked, and you shoved a hand into his back pocket. At least three separate times, you made him pull over so you could kiss him and run your hands over any and all parts of his body you could reach. It was probably a relief for him when you finally made it to his front porch; he had been walking hunched over for the last five minutes, trying in vain to hide his erection.

As soon as Neil had the lock undone, you were pushing him inside, barely taking time to kick the door closed behind you. You had never visited Neil’s house before, but it was easy enough to find your way to the living room and shove him down onto the sofa. He sat up, resting his back against the cushions.

“Wow - you’re, ah, eager,” Neil laughed, watching as you climbed to sit on top of him.

“Mm-hmm” you hummed, already starting to unbutton his flannel.

You had both shed your winter gear and boots in the course of finding your way to the couch, but Neil’s shirt was still in the way. You’d managed to pull off your own top already, and Neil’s fingers ghosted over your skin as you straddled him.

“We can stop if you want,” you whispered, pausing after you’d popped the last button.

“No! No, no,” Neil said hurriedly. “I just… didn’t realize you liked me this much.”

His eyes were bright even in the dark - you hadn’t bothered to flip on any of the lightswitches - and they looked up at you now, practically swimming with desire.

“Well, good,” you murmured. “Because I don’t really want to stop.”

Neil swallowed heavily, and you reached back to unclasp your bra. His eyes followed your movements, widening when the garment dropped away.

“Also, I’m cold from being outside,” you complained.

As if to prove your point, you placed your frigid hands on Neil’s bare skin, gripping his sides lightly where his shirt had fallen open.

“Jesus Christ!” Neil gasped, jumping from your icy touch. “I mean, ah… c’mere; I’ll warm you up.”

He was learning, slowly but surely, how to take a hint. Neil held your wrists and brought your fingers up to his lips, kissing them. His warm breath felt nice, and you melted a little as he pressed a kiss to each of your fingers. He gently placed your hands flat on his chest, letting go to wrap his arms snug around your hips as he pulled you closer to him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, lips brushing against yours.

You nodded. Neil’s hands traveled up your sides, pausing to hold onto the narrowest point of your waist. You ground your hips down onto his, biting at his lip as you did, causing his fingers to tighten momentarily. Then he continued, letting his hands wander until they had cupped your breasts. His fingers were surprisingly warm as they squeezed you, and you felt yourself moan against his mouth.

You brought your own hands up to push Neil’s flannel further off his shoulders, kneading and feeling up his arms as you made out. Sighing, you pulled away to take a deeper breath of air, and Neil’s hands snaked around to your back, pressing you closer as he kissed the hollow between your breasts. He was so gentle; sensual even amidst your desperation to tear him out of his clothes.

Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you, Neil stood up and carried you with him. Your legs wrapped, shakily, around his waist. You kissed him again as he carried you through the house, finally letting you fall gently onto his mattress. His sheets were a mess, you noticed, like he hadn't bothered with making the bed this morning.

Neil shrugged the rest of the way out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. You scrambled to unbutton your jeans, and Neil helped you out of them, fingers raking down your legs as he pulled off the tight fabric. He fell down to kiss at your collar bone, then let his lips wander all over your body. His hands found your thighs, and he pulled you a little closer to his hips at the edge of the bed. Your back arched.

“It’s cute how you get all excited when I throw you around,” he muttered.

The feel of his lips against your skin made you squirm when he spoke. You felt a brief flash of embarrassment that he had noticed the way being carried and pulled turned you on, but the feeling quickly faded. You did like the way he handled you, gentle but authoritative. Neil slipped a finger under the hem of your panties.

“Can I take these off?” he asked.

“Yes,” you sighed, lifting your hips to make it easier for him to slide them down.

Now, you were completely naked. Neil took a moment to look down at you, erection still straining uncomfortably against his pants. He stared directly at your core, and even in the dim light you could see the way his eyes glistened darkly at the sight of it.

“Remember when I said you were pretty earlier?” Neil breathed.

You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed all over again. Neil was a bit more assertive in the bedroom than you had anticipated he would be. It was a welcome surprise, but it had you flustered. Maybe it was just the way that you had already started to fall apart at the feel of his strong hands all over your body that gave him the confidence.

You heard the sounds of Neil shuffling out of his pants, a condom wrapper tearing, and then felt his palm spread your legs open just a little wider, making space for his hips to slot between yours.

You peered out from behind your fingers, and then lowered them from your face. Neil was fumbling in the dark, trying to line himself up. Suddenly, he slipped an arm under your waist and pulled you up, flipping so that he was beneath you. You could feel him pressing up against your folds, not quite pushing into you yet.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” Neil purred, and you melted a little more.

You lowered yourself down onto him, sighing as he split you open. He was bigger than you had anticipated, too, and it took you a moment to adjust.

“Oh, Neil,” you breathed, as he finally slipped fully inside of you.

Neil reached up to hold the back of your neck and pull you down into a kiss. When he broke away, he murmured softly against your lips.

“Love the way your pussy feels, wrapped around me.”

“Mmm, yeah. Feels good,” you agreed, humming.

“Want me to move?” Neil asked.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. He felt amazing, just filling you up like this. When he held you and helped you to bounce up and down - measured but powerful, his hips thrusting up to meet you whenever he pulled you in - you felt yourself starting to go weak in his arms.

“Neil…” you whispered.

“Hm?’

“Want you on top of me.”

You didn’t have to ask twice. Neil flipped you over again, not bothering to pull out as he pressed you into the mattress. One of his hands bent your leg to the side, guiding you softly open so that he could hit a different angle. The spot he was rubbing inside drove you crazy, and you threw your head back with every slow, rhythmic thrust.

“Love how you’re squeezing me,” gasped Neil.

You hadn’t been doing it consciously, until now, but you clenched your muscles and Neil groaned in ecstasy. That was more like how you’d imagined he’d sound in bed. Desperate. Needy. And like he just might fall apart at any second. You squeezed him again.

“Fuck, baby, you don’t want me to last long, do you?”

The strain in Neil’s voice had you purring; bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck as he held you still and kept pressing into you. He was going slow, but every drag of his hips made you claw at him, desperate for the pressure.

“Ah! Heh, jeez, your feet are cold, too,” Neil laughed, jumping again as your toes brushed against his leg.

He reached to pull the covers over you, wrapping the two of you up in a bundle of warm limbs and breathy moans. You held onto him even tighter.

“Neil, m’close,” you whined.

“Me too.”

He didn’t change his pace at all as he continued to press into you, one hand back on your leg tracing soft circles; the other resting by your arm, caging you slightly. Every thrust hit that spot inside of you - the one that made you cross your eyes and curl your toes.

“Neil,” you gasped.

“Mm, say my name when you come, baby.”

And you did, a little louder and more desperately than you had intended to - but Neil only seemed to drink it up. His hips started to stutter as you squeezed him even tighter. Finally, Neil thrust deep inside you, and moaned as his orgasm overtook him.

Neil pulled away from you to breathe heavily, propping himself with his arms while you were both still tangled up in the sheets. You pulled him back down to give him a kiss, and he moved his hand up your leg, past your hip, before finally coming to rest at your waist.

“You warm enough?” Neil nestled both of you into the blankets as he spoke.

“Mmmm.”

“So, does this mean you owe me a drink, or I owe you a movie?” he joked.

You were slightly breathless, too, but you pulled together enough stamina to quip back.

“Neil, are you insinuating that you want to pay me for sex?” you teased.

“Hey, VHS tapes aren’t legal tender or anything. I think it would hold up in a court of law.”

“Hm, I’m pretty sure you owe me a movie then.” Your head pressed back into his pillow as your eyes drifted shut before continuing. “But this time you should watch it with me.”

“Whatever gets me an excuse to see you,” Neil teased, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Neil, you can see me anytime you want,” you laughed, eyes cracking open to look at him.

“Good.”

Neil’s arms wrapped around you, holding you softly as his warm breath tickled your face. You felt his weight as he sank down just a little more, getting comfortable. His lips pressed a lazy kiss against your cheek, once, twice, three times. You smiled, imagining all of the passions that you and Neil had left to share.

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis smut #LemmyFics

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youaremyhome · 1 year

Text

Pieces of the Night: Resisting the New Moon

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!

Notes: 3.0k words. I just to thank everyone that has been patiently waiting for my updates and i am SO SORRY for how long this took. Bad news: this is pretty plot-heavy so no smut, good news: next chapter is Rafe's POV! so i really hope yall like it so tell me if you do or don't, i just wanna hear from ya'll!! it means so much to read what you guys think as you read and i find it just as entertaining as writing the series lol

Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou@malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business@watersquirtpewpewboomm @magnificantmermaid @mk15x @abbybarnesstuff @lavenderhue

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (And I’m sorry if I missed you, I love you)

Coming home should be relaxing.

Instead, a ball of dread sits in your esophagus as you turn the key, inching the door open. Silence greets you, shoulders dropping with the weight rolling down your back. You’re truly alone now, with no greedy hands or nipping teeth to get you.

It was a struggle to leave Rafe’s apartment. A wake-up call of kisses and an encore of his performance in the alley started your morning off, followed by an insufferable breakfast with his roommates, Topper and Kelce. Both boys seemed confused as you sat at the dining table, dressed in Rafe’s t-shirt and boxers as he placed the coffee in front of you. The boyish leers and whistles followed you down the hall when you excused yourself, their eyes pinned to the various bruises scattered on you like exploded stars.

Rafe tried insisting on you skipping class with sweet promises that escalated into whispered threats. Fortunately, you were able to escape. It costed you another pair of underwear.

Dragging yourself to your room, your body and mind argue about who’s more exhausted.

While muscles felt strained and bones felt weak, your mind had no inner voice for once. On autopilot as you change, dumping your things to the ground. A muted consciousness fogs your senses, moving like a sim controlled by a child; clumsy and aimless. Collapsing on the bed is the last thing that happens before the screen turns black.

“Get up!”

Your name is being yelled in layers, crusty eyes peeking open as your friends storm in like an army brigade. Andi squeals and jumps into your bed as their voices overlap.

“How could you keep this from us you bitch?!”

“Everyone’s talking about it –"

“Talking about what?” Your sleepy voice cracks.

“You and Rafe, duh!”

Springing up, an instant flush blisters your face, the girls hitching up an octave as they point it out. Their eyes and questions are like needlepoints poking at your skin.

Rubbing your face with both hands, you press the heels to your eyes. “It just sorta… happened.” Little specks of black and silver sprinkle your vision once you’re done squishing your eyes. There’s no point in lying to them. Well, more than you have to.

Looking between the three of them you ask, “How’d you even know so fast? I left his apartment this morning.”

“Oh, please.” Dan huffs, flicking her wrist. “Those frat boys are worst gossips than us. I heard from Mary, who got a text from Liz whose sleeping with Matt, that Topper told him how you did the walk of shame straight to your class."

Louise strikes out, pulling the neckline of your sweater down, revealing the fresh bruises on your skin. They titter, the girls settling on your bed as you pull your knees up, hugging them tightly to your chest. You tell them what they want to hear.

How Rafe had been persisting you in class while you secretly – hated – loved it, cautious because of his reputation. Leading him to beg for a date and the modified version of the dirty details. As you weave the story, struggling is replaced with play fighting, crying with giggling. The lies stumble through your dry mouth, but they assume it's from your shy demeanor.

“So, do you like… like him?” Louise asks with an impish grin and wonder in her eye. Ever the romantic.

“Personality-wise?” You can’t help the grimace on your face. “He’s alright, I guess.”

Clearly, it isn’t the answer she was hoping for; she shrugs, saying people start dating from being fuck buddies nowadays. Controlling your bodily reaction to your relationship named as that is difficult, a weak nod is all you give.

You can see the excitement they hold for you like little offerings you’re supposed to lap up. In any other case, you would be squealing along with them, maybe even having butterflies in your stomach with fuzzy wings instead of knives.

They probe for more intimate details, something you all do after a new boy. Only this time feels…dirty, that these details should never see the light of day for how dark they are. Further despising Rafe for another thing he has unknowingly ruined: the enjoyment of gossiping with your friends. You’re holding back now and it doesn’t feel right. You should be telling them how you cry at the sight of him, not that you orgasm every time (though that is begrudgingly true, too).

“Just be careful, okay?” Danielle says after the conversation winds down. Reaching over, she lays her hand on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. It’s a simple caring gesture that has you almost breaking. The touch is innocent and good-natured, something you haven’t felt in weeks.

It reminisces the first time you had told them about Rafe. Danielle always had a better judge of character than you. Repeatedly telling you how there were some people that rather burn than put a fire out. Now, you were encircled in a hellish blue fire that licked at your skin.

You hold eye contact, a wall trembling to fall but you reinforce it with a smile. “Of course.”

Over the course of the next couple weeks, other Greek life people you knew were asking about you and Rafe. You knew the community was big enough to not know everyone, but small enough for word to spread like a slow forest fire, contained in an area before it latches onto a lingering branch, lighting its way through the whole campus.

Questions of if you were dating seemed constant, a hardy no was always the answer. Not understanding the fuss of a random frat boy sleeping with a random college girl. Frustrated with it, you had asked a sorority girl that shared the same class with you and Rafe why it even mattered.

“You’re kidding, right?” You frowned and shook your head. “Everyone knows the rich, crazy VP that loves partying more than girls has never had a girlfriend. Especially one so nice.”

You repeated to her and anyone with ears that you and Rafe were absolutely not dating.

That didn’t stop him from heightening the rumors, walking you to and from classes, a kiss hello and goodbye. Arm stretched behind your chair during lecture, playing with the ends of your hair. Public displays of affection that curdled low in your belly. It only reminded you of the leash he has on you. So taut, that with any wrong move, he’ll turn it into a cage.

Even parties weren’t as fun anymore, Rafe making an appearance more likely than not. Those nights usually ended with you drunk, high, fucked out, or a combination of the three. It didn’t matter if you tried hiding somewhere in the packed houses or fought with him there, it ended with you in his bed.

Today you were especially ticked off.

Hungover and crabby, you’re grumbly and feeling like all over shit. You don’t know why your body hurts more, from your intense hungover or the way Rafe had slammed you down to the bed last night. He was already up when you awoke, only in sweats as he ruffled through his desk drawers. He gave you a distracted morning as you got up and dressed. Though you’ve been appeasing him as of late, you don’t bother with a response.

The sound of sharp inhaling has your eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance. After a few moments, you feel his stare as you push your last night's clothes into your bag.

“Wanna bump?” He thumbs his nose, lounging back on the chair. “Make you feel better.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

The words are clipped and maybe a little sarcastic, focusing on getting everything you need so you can leave. Easily ignoring him as you round the bed to head to the bathroom.

“It’ll get that stick outta your ass you woke up with.” He mutters, but you know you’re meant to hear it.

Mild annoyance flicks into anger. Anger that has you whirling back to him, letting it dominate you like he has done so many times. Arm lashing out, you swipe the rest of the cocaine off the desk. The collected powder floats into a cloud of dust as its disturbed, satisfaction thrumming through you.

“What the fuck?!”

Rafe’s up in a blink of an eye, chair clambering back to the floor. Your delight dries up when livid eyes pierce you, and before you know what you're doing, you're running away.

There’s shouting of your name, bare feet slapping the floor as he gives chase.

The hallway between his door and the entrance narrows before you, distorting into something longer, inescapable. You don’t know where you're going to go with being shoeless and phoneless but you need to get out of here before –

You’re pushed to the side, inches from the front door and your temple bounces off the wall. Hands spin you around, facing Rafe with his eyes wide and skin taunt as he gives you a jagged shake.

“You stupid bitch –"

“Fucking jackass –"

“Hey, woah!”

You both freeze.

As Rafe turns his head to look behind, you cock your head to the side. Topper stands at the small dining table, dimpled chin hanging low and a bowl of cereal sitting in front of him. Bewildered eyes asses the way Rafe is hunching over you, the twisted grip on your upper arms.

“Rafe, man…let her go,” Topper says calmly, one hand lowly reaching out. Something akin to concern filling out his expression.

With a grunt tickling your ear, Rafe releases you, his chest still pressed to yours. He commands under his breath, “go back to the room.”

If it weren’t for the essentials you left, you would’ve disregarded him completely. Glowering, you check shoulders with him as you go, Topper’s worried questions echo down the hall.

Fear, anger, and misplaced embarrassment from the witnessed scuffle rattle up your head down to your chest. The scene plays in your mind’s eye over and over, a loop that changes only in perspective like a movie. One that doesn’t happen to you, only to a girl that’s looking for her lost voice. She had it before.

Only once under the shelter of being in public does relief settle over you like a cool mist. You don’t know what would’ve happened if Topper hadn’t been here.

🌙

“So, what are your plans for spring break?"

“Um, to go home?”

Confused, you tilt your head to stare down at the phone, Lauren combined with numerous heart emojis displayed on the screen. Your laptop is set on your knees as you complete homework while chatting with her. Hair still wet from your shower and Rafe’s texts unanswered. Apologizes filled the text history from him, all left on read which led to missed calls and increasingly agitated texts.

“Uhhh, no.” The crinkle of fabric as Lauren packs for an upcoming trip accompanies her words. “Dad didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He and mom are gonna go back to that little island we stayed at for Christmas.” Your heart drops, your oblivious sister continues, “…yeah, apparently Dad and that Wade guy hit it off and they’re doing business.”

Your dad’s a commercial architect, designing retail and office spaces across the west coast. He sometimes takes the odd job at the beginning of the new year so your family would be able to enjoy your summer in a new city. It usually took months of permits and construction to fully finish the project, your dad liked to stay with them till the end. You don’t even know what Ward does, just that he must’ve made a good impression, yet you can’t remember because you had a nuisance sitting beside you.

A gnawing pit opens at the bottom of your stomach, feeding on the fear that drips like a broken faucet. If this deal with Ward goes through, you’ll be spending your summer in Kildare, possibly longer with no job lined up for yourself.

A summer of Rafe. A summer of suffering through all the shit he’ll pull. No doubt he’ll be hearing of the news soon, having been privy to the calls with his dad, wanting to be a part of the business.

Before now, you’ve resigned yourself to placating him until May, until graduation and then you’d be across the country, far away, and never looking back. As Lauren’s voice hums in the background, your eyes stare at the keyboard in thought. A hand grazing over the tender spot of the side of your head.

This changes how you’ve been dealing with the situation. Handling Rafe like a spoiled child, giving him limited access to his favorite toy. It was the best strategy you had, believing you had an end date to this mess. However, with summer looming towards you with its long shadows and unrelenting heat, you know you can’t do it any longer. You can’t deal with the constant touching, the faux sweet gestures, and the rough treatment. It makes your head flutter with sickly butterflies just thinking of it, your chest feels light as you breathe in deeper.

You need a new plan, now. One that frees you from the shackles of Rafe Cameron. How you were going to do that…you had no idea. Once he learns of the deal, he won’t let it go. He won’t let his dad say no to it, and won’t let you say no to coming with.

The rest of the phone call is a distant thing, the laptop closed and you don’t even know if you saved your work. Amongst the quiet of the night, you drift into your mind, visualizing an alternate world.

A world where you never saw Rafe on the beach that night, or even went to the Outer Banks at all. How after winter break, you still would’ve had a class together. Still had that fated reunion. With no pogues around to deface him, you might’ve liked the attention from him.

Played it coy, compelling him to make the first move, maybe after lecture one day and walk you home. Having a nice, normal conversation with him. How you would’ve agreed to see him again, to have sex with him again.

This other you gets the Rafe you had first met. A jerk, yes, but one that listened to you, that had self-control. Was soft with you. She gets the normal progression of fuck buddies to a situationship. Because despite all the faults he clearly has, other you would’ve been able to look past them. Giving him leeway with his transgressions, not considering it a big deal since it wasn’t a serious thing anyways.

Other you has weeks and months to see the red flags rising up, one by one. The excessive drinking turns him nasty, the blow that levels him out and becomes emotional. Other you would’ve ignored them, chalked it up to typical college behavior until he eventually hurt you. You’d like to think other you would immediately end it, no matter how much he had manipulated you into liking him.

It's at this point of the dark tale where you know the universe is out to get you, an age-old revenge set upon your very soul. Because if other you tried to end it with him, would he have turned just as vicious as before?

Yes, you think, yes, he would in a heartbeat.

Separate paths: one with a smooth, sandy trail as the other grapples with high seas. These two lives are so separate, so unlike the other but still converging in the end, the same destination. A desisted beach with just a blond boy, ready to meld hands and bodies together. No path to take and no boat to ride on.

Gusts of wind brusquely whip around you like nature herself is propelling you forward, toward him. A warp of stumbling and muted colors as the rough waves crash to the shoreline, deafening and ferocious. The blond stays there, waiting. As if he knows you’ll be coming to him, even though you don’t want to. Like he knows no element will stop this journey of yours deeper into the sand.

You can’t see his face but fright ghosts over you like a disembodied entity. You want to go the other way, back to what was before.

The sand starts to flow, gentler than the water, luring you nearer to him, closer to what you know is bad, bad, bad. You think you scream, or maybe there’s another roaring of the waves as your arm's length away now. Details filling out his face come into a sharp focus, the edges around him blurry as Rafe smiles at you.

He seems unaffected by the storm happening viciously around the two of you. Spontaneously, you’re in his arms and you’ve never felt so small. Resisting only seems like it's the sand moving your bodies to and fro, not the intense effort you give. There are words being eaten around you, Rafe telling you something with that giant grin of his.

What? You mouth, your voice is sucked into the vacuum of noise and boomerangs back at you.

YOU’RE MINE. Rafe shouts with a manic glee like a god’s voice booming down below from the heavens. His laughter pushes the waves closer, sand and sea mixing together.

Terror is all you know, from the beginning of time to the end of your days. Rafe’s hold feels more like tentacles than hands, squeezing and capturing you tight. There’s merely the scream of delight by the ocean and the sob of horror from you.

Just as you’re there, you’re not.

Woken in a slick sweat that coats your hairline to the back of your knees. Your heart sputtering from the nightmare and the harsh yank back into the conscious world. After taking a moment that this is reality, that you’re not being swallowed into the vortex of Rafe; do you relax back into bed. Smothering your face back into the pillow, you whimper with the ruminants of irrational fear. That little nub in your brain is lightened up, alarming you that there is real danger near you.

A danger you have to face head-on.

#pieces of the night #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #smut #dark!rafe cameron #dark fic #tws #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx smut

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

We're A Family Part 12 (Steddie X You)

A/N with warnings: Y'all know when I give you both in one you're gonna feel some things lol There is no smut in this one but all the angst and fluff near the end. Like I said I knew I wanted a chapter like this but I wasn't exactly sure how I wanted it to go.

What Y/N and Dylan discuss are things I have been through with biological mother especially that feeling of not being enough. If this triggers you, I highly recommend you skip this chapter. Dylan does confront Charlie about how he treats him and it doesn't go well. Dylan talks in detail about how it makes him feel and the guys and reader will talk about their own traumas with their parents.

If you've ever experienced anything like this or have ever felt you weren't enough for one or both of your parents, I'm here to tell you that they fucking suck and your feelings are valid. You ARE enough <3. I love you!

Word Count: 4535

“Can I, um, talk to you guys about something?”, Dylan asked as he entered the living room.

Steve looks at his watch before placing his arms back on your legs that were strewn over his lap. “It’s after eight. Didn’t Ed say he had to submit questions in writing at that time?”

“A ha. You’re so funny.”, your son teases as you grin.

“Do you need everyone or will we do?”, you ask. His eyes look around hesitantly and you know before he speaks. As you rise from the couch, you kiss the top of his head before opening the back door. “Hey! Our son needs a word with everyone over 3.”

“Oh shit. I just barely made it then.”, Eddie chuckles as he takes one last drag and stomps out his cigarette.

“Ok, weirdo. The floor is yours.” You grin at him encouragingly as you sit between the distance of the boys on the arm rest.

“I…so…um…”, he looks down as he fidgets with his fingers. “I was wondering if…I could, maybe, visit my other dad.”

You feel the tension in the room rise immediately, mostly from Steve’s side as you and Eddie glance nervously at each other.

“I don’t have to like spend the night or anything. I was just thinking maybe a dinner or something.”, Dylan quickly followed.

“Can I ask why, baby? Why now?”

His anxious eyes meet yours. “I miss him a little bit…him and Vivi…”

“That’s understandable. Is it okay with you if the three of us talk about it first?”

“We can talk about it now. I think it’s a bad idea.”, Steve responded in a hard tone.

“Steve…”, Eddie warned.

“What? After everything that’s happened?!”

“He’s allowed to feel what he’s feeling.”

“Yeah, and as his parents we are allowed to protect him. I say no.”

“Harrington, you do this every time the topic comes up. Y/N is right, we need to talk this through first and then depending on what we decide we also need to reach out to Charlie.”

As they argued back and forth, you and Dylan continued to stare at each other sympathetically. This is what he was afraid of, hurting their feelings. You saw it in his broken-hearted face while he saw your fear for his own feelings not just when it came to them but Charlie as well.

You subtly nodded your head, signaling you would handle it before he came over to give you a hug.

“I love you, weirdo.”

“I love you to, mom.”

All conversation stopped as you three watched him head back upstairs.

“I want to make one thing very clear, Steven Harrington. That is the last fucking time you do anything like that in front of my son. Do you understand me?”

“I’m trying to protect—”

“No.”, you cross your arms as you glare at him. “I don’t care what you were trying to do. It took a lot for him to do what he just did especially in front of you both. He knows you two care about him and love him but that doesn’t change the fact that Charlie is his biological parent. He’s not like Aurora. He had a whole other man in his life he called dad for 6 years before you entered the picture.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he looked away from you. “I just don’t get it. I mean…if Charlie wasn’t a complete douchebag…

“I get it.”, Eddie sighed. “Those first few years after Wayne took me in, I still missed my parents. Even after everything they did, I kept thinking maybe if I was ‘a better kid’ they’d come back. When that didn’t work, it was more like why wasn’t I enough, you know? Then it became a mission. I NEEDED to hear from them why I was easy to leave behind. It took a lot of angry nights and patience from Wayne for me to get here.”

“Steve, I know you mean well. Honestly…”, you exhale as you sit beside him. “I’m more worried about having to tell him that Charlie doesn’t want to hang out with him yet and see that sad look on his face.”

“You shouldn’t have to be the one to tell him that.” You look up at Steve in confusion. “Maybe, if Dylan makes that call…”

****

Dylan sat on your bed as the phone rang. Both men thought it would make him more comfortable if you two were alone but they remained at the foot of the stairs to listen in.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Vivi.”

“Dylan!? Oh my god. Hey, kiddo. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m doing really good. I miss you. Did you want to talk to your dad?”

“I miss you to. Please…”

“Ok, bud. One second.” You two listened as there was some shuffling on the other line. “Dil?”

“Hey…dad.”

It broke your heart to hear him hesitate as you ran your hand through his hair. The truth was he didn’t really think about Charlie that way anymore but there was still a part of him that hoped. Eddie’s eyes flicked to Steve who exhaled heavily, patting the space next to him on the stairs. As the boy sat down, the metalhead comfortingly rubbed his palm along his back, resting his chin on his shoulder as they continued to listen.

“Hey, you. How are you doing? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, no. Everything is fine. I’m fine. I, um, I wanted to call to see if, um, maybe you and Vivi would want to hang out with me. We could have dinner or something.”

“Oh, dude, that would be amazing…”

Your eyes squeezed shut before he finished his sentence. You knew. He had done this so many times during your marriage.

“Baby, that’s amazing, but I can’t actually make it to your graduation that day. I have to work.”

“I know this is so hard for you, Y/N, but I don’t think I can go with you to your dad’s funeral.”

“Hon, I had dinner scheduled at this amazing restaurant but something came up…”

Steve knew this dance to but his father was a lot more aggressive with his approach.

“Congratulations on graduating high school, something everyone accomplishes with little to no effort. I’m proud!”

“Oh, you got an A in English? Come to me when you run your own company. Now THAT’S an accomplishment.”

“But we just have so much going on right now we barely have anytime to even sleep!”, he chuckles. “How about we revisit this conversation in a few months, huh?”

“Ok, baby. Give me this and go hang out in your room, alright?” Dylan hesitates as you pull the phone out of his hand. “It’s ok. I got it.”

“Y/N? Did you put him up to this?!”

“Yes, Charlie. I set in motion a diabolical plan for your son to want to spend time with you.”

“Believe it or not, I have a fucking life of my own now and family to take care of. You both can’t just surprise me like this!”

“He’s asking for a dinner not a fucking vacation! And believe it or not, he’s a part of that family you should be taking care of to.”

The bed dips as Eddie sits beside you, Steve leaning in the doorframe.

“No. Remember, he has a new dad now. Two of them!”

“You’re such a child. Don’t do this, Charlie. He’s a good kid. He deserves better.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Y/N. I’m busy alright. Look… maybe if we go back to court and come up with a schedule so I can make time…

“Yes, because that worked so well in the past. I’m not going to waste time and money to do all that if you can’t even see him for 2 hours.”

“Still so fucking self-righteous. Like you’re god’s gift to parents. I…”

His voice trailed off as Eddie took the phone from your hand. “Yeah, that’s enough of that.”, he growls under his breath as he hangs up. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Fucking asshole.”

“I mean…I know I’m not the nicest guy but—”

He smiles when you laugh and push his shoulder. Steve comes up to your side and pulls your head against him as he kisses the top of it.

“I’m sorry, honey. Maybe, we can all go do something this weekend that Dylan likes. Let the kid have some fun.”

###############

You awoke to the sound of a toddler giggling as she tried to pull herself onto your bed.

“Aurora Munson-Harrington, what are you doing?”, you grin from your place on Steve’s chest.

“Up! Mama, up!”

After untangling yourself from both men’s protective arms, you lean over to grip her biceps as you tug her onto the mattress and plop her on top of the man you were using as a pillow.

“Dada, wake up.”, Ro smiled as she placed both her hands on his cheeks, pressing her face to his.

“Can I help you?”, he groggily asked.

“Teehee. Dada, up.”, she laughs again as she signals with her hand that she’s hungry by tapping her mouth.

“You know, that sounds like a daddy problem. You should go bug daddy.”

“Nooooo… dad!”, she exclaims.

“That’s my girl.”, Eddie smiles as he throws his arm over his eyes, yawning.

Aurora crawls over you and Steve to straddle her father’s chest, tracing his tattoos with her fingers as she waits for someone to do what she asks.

“I can go make breakfast. Let me just check on Dylan real quick.”

“Din bye bye.”, she waves towards the hallway. All eyes fully open as they turn towards the toddler.

“Ro, hey, what do you mean Dylan bye?”, you ask.

She fiddles with her fingers for a bit before answering. “Din bye.”, she babbles some more before pointing towards the stairs. “Beep beep!” You jump out of bed as she mimics the alarm noise you’ve heard her do when someone opens the door.

“STEVE!” He quickly gets up to head for Dylan’s room. “He’s not here!”

“He probably hasn’t gotten far if he woke her up. Come on.”

****

Dylan knew this was going to get him into trouble especially after what his dad did that got him arrested but he has to know. He has to physically talk to his father to understand why he didn’t seem to miss him like he did.

He loved Eddie and Steve so much but he just couldn’t understand why it was so easy for them to be his dad but not for Charlie. Is it something he did? Maybe he shouldn’t have called Eddie dad in front of him…but he was scared…Eddie made him feel safe. As he got older he found he was more into stuff his dad found “appropriate” like sports and things like that. Isn’t that enough?

After a 15-minute walk, he finally arrived at his destination, exhaling out the nerves before knocking on the front door. No one answered immediately so after a few moments he knocked again. He heard angry rumbling on the other side as it finally flew open and he was met with his father.

“Who the fu—Dylan? What are you doing here? Where’s your mom?”

“I needed to see you.”

“You what? Hang on, come in. I need to call Y/N and let her know you’re here.”

The boy walked in heading for the living room as his dad detoured towards the kitchen. It was quiet until he heard your voice echo through the phone.

“Charlie?! Is he there?”

“Yeah, he’s here. Calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! I’m on my way!”

He huffed under his breath as he hung up the phone.

“I swear, Dil, sometimes your mom such a pain in the ass.”

The boy’s nose scrunches in annoyance. “Don’t call her that.” Charlie turned to glare down at him. “Why don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“Look, bud. You’ll understand more when you get older that adults get extremely busy sometimes and—”

“So does mom, Eddie, and Steve. Eddie owns a store and Steve worked while going to school.”

“Well, fucking good for them.”

The sound of your hand banging on the door cut through the tension that was beginning to build. You flew in as it opened not waiting for an invitation. Charlie gestured for Steve to enter and he did so cautiously, his eyes scanning over Dylan.

“What the hell were you thinking!? You don’t just leave like that!”

The boys eyes avoided yours as he targeted Charlie again. “WHY don’t you want to spend time with me? I play sports, I get good grades. I’ve gotten into more things I know you like so we can do more stuff together. I don’t get it!”

Steve reached for your arm and pulled you slightly back out of the line of fire.

“ANSWER ME!”

“HEY! I’m your father! You don’t speak to me like that!”

“You’re not my dad!” You started to step forward, prepared to shield him from everything going on but Steve’s arm extended out to stop you as his eyes remained on Dylan. “Steve and Eddie are my dad! They don’t make fun of me or tell me what I like is stupid! They come to every one of games and help me when I need it! They are actually there for me when YOU NEVER WERE!”

“Charlie?”, Vivian’s small voice echoed from the hallway; her hand casually resting on the baby bump. “What’s…what’s going on?”

Dylan’s eyes looked her over from head to toe, his bottom lip quivering as if he was trying to form more words but couldn’t. Steve stepped forward and kneeled in front of him like he did when Dylan was smaller.

“Are you ready to go home?”

The boy nods.

“Ok. Is there anything else you want to say to Charlie or maybe Vivian?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”, he whispers.

Steve softly smiles as he runs his thumbs under his eyes. Dylan wrapped his arms around his neck and the man lifted him up like the boy was still six years old. As you three headed for the door, Steve turns to address Charlie.

“This was your chance and you blew it. I’m not going to let you hurt him anymore. You stay away from him. Do you hear me?”

“Or what?”, your ex challenged.

“Try me, Charlie. We did this once already and you lost. Now you’re messing with my son. It will be a whole lot worse. Stay. Away.”

##############

“Beep beep.”, Aurora parroted as the front door opened. Eddie immediately rose to his feet just in time to see Dylan fly past him and out into the backyard.

“What happened?!”

Without a word, you followed after him where he was pacing in the grass trying to catch his breath.

“Dylan, breathe, honey.”

“He’s…he’s replacing me. I knew it…I knew it…”

“Knew what?” His breathing picked up as he slipped further into his panic attack.

Eddie came down into the yard and encircled his arms around him from behind as he placed his palm on the boy’s chest.

“Kid, I want you to do me a favor, ok? Whenever you’re ready, tell me five things you can see.”

“Wh-what?!”

“It can be anything. Surprise me.”

“Um…I see…mom…grass…”

“Good. Keep going. What else?”

“I see…dad on…on the porch…Ro playing inside…sky.”

“Good, kid. You badass. Ok, now tell me four things you hear. Again, any four.”

Dylan’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus. “Birds. I hear birds…kids playing in the street. I hear mom’s breath….and my voice.”

“Ok, three things you can feel.”

His chest was still heaving a bit but you noticed his breathing wasn’t as labored.

“Your hand on my chest. Um…the wind…and the sun.”

“You’re rockin’ it, kid. Two things you smell?”

“Your cigarettes.”

“Well, that’s a given. Even the dead can smell that.” Dylan released a heavy laugh that made you want cry with happiness. “What else?”

“My mom’s perfume.”

“It’s the one you got me for Mother’s Day.”

He and Eddie both grin. “One thing you can taste.”

“My spit.”

The metalhead turned him around, placing both palms on his cheeks. “Gross.” You son laughed as he hugged him, pushing his face into the man’s chest. “You’re okay, Dylan. Everything is okay.”

****

Dylan crashed on the couch with his sister who insisted on laying with him when the boy came back inside.

“Din sad? No!”

You three leaned against opposite ends of the kitchen counter as Steve updated Eddie on what happened.

“Fucking prick.”, he sighed.

“What was that, Ed? That you did with him outside?”

“The sensory thing? It’s something some school counselor taught me after I moved in with Wayne. She said it was meant to ground me, get me out of my brain and focus on the moment.”

“You panicked like that?” He subtly nodded before turning his attention to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart?”

“Steve was right. I should have told him no. I should have protected him.”

“He needed this, Y/N. Eddie never got to tell his dad how he felt and the closest I’ll ever get was telling him fuck off when you were pregnant. You got to tell your mom and now he got to tell his dad.” Steve exhales as he folds his arms. “Maybe now he can really start healing.”

###############

After dinner that night and putting Aurora to bed, you laid with Dylan in his room like you guys used to in the apartment.

“I’m sorry I snuck out. I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

“I appreciate that. You are still grounded though for the next week.”, you smile as you pretend to shutter. “Why do you have to make me punish you? I don’t know how to do that. You never get into trouble.” He chuckles at your words. “I love you so much, weirdo. I hope you know that.”

“I do, mom. I love you to.”

“I remember when you were born and I held you for the first time… I knew I would do anything for you. I always thought I could protect you from all the bad stuff and I try! I really do but sometimes…things slip past me, I guess.”

“Hey. Are we asleep yet?” Steve pokes his head into the boy’s bedroom.

“No, why?”, you grin.

He waves at you both with his hand, urging you to follow him. He leads you outside where Eddie is already waiting.

“Why hello there child and ma-ma.” You roll your eyes playfully at the man’s announcer style voice. He gestures to the box in front of him. “What we have here are disgusting man dishes we had across the way when we were neighbors.”

“Man dishes?”

“Honey, they are glass items that are in plate form but I wouldn’t legally call them that.”, Steve chuckles as he reaches in and hands everyone something to hold. “Eddie and I figure; we’ve been living here for almost 6 years. Time to leave our rowdy bachelors lives behind us.”

“Wow, you two need to calm down.”, you laugh at them.

The metalhead smiles as he nudges Dylan with his elbow. “Remember how I told you a few years ago I moved in with my uncle when my dad did something bad?” The boy nods as he listens to Eddie speak. “He was attempting to steal another car when the owner found him hot wiring it. They got into a fight as my dad tried to run but, of course, cops got him. Because this was one of MANY offenses, the judge didn’t even think twice, and locked him up for good. I remember my mom telling me they had arrested him and why. I couldn’t stop thinking ‘Why? He had us…were we not enough?’.”

Eddie abruptly threw the glass against the concreate around the end of the patio as hard as he could. “Oh wow. That felt nice.”

Steve laughed as he inspected the object he was holding. “My dad always wanted me to be ‘the best’ encouraging me to sign up for sports and these clubs that our family had been a part of for generations. The problem was he never told me what ‘the best’ looked like. In high school, I was MVP in basketball but our team never made it to the championship. Somehow that was my fault…not like he would know because he never went to any of the games.”

The man copied Eddie’s action, the glass shattering loudly. “You’re right, man. That did feel nice.”

Dylan looked up at you eagerly as you heavily sighed. “I hated back to school shopping with my parents. Kierra and I would always hold hands and listen to them bicker about which outfit was appropriate. My dad advocated for what would make us comfortable whereas my mom wanted what looked the best. I remember one time she took us into the dressing room and insisted we prove to her that my dad’s suggestions would work. I had on blue jeans and a yellow tank top with sneakers. Kierra found a sundress that was so gorgeous. She, um, she said my sister looked like a truck stop hooker and my shirt over accentuated my stomach making me look fat.”

You threw your glass object a bit harder than you meant to but it did release a lot of aggression you felt in your chest, not just from the memory but everything else.

“When I was smaller, when mom and dad were together, I didn’t get why he was never home but…I was okay with it because he yelled at you a lot when he was.”, Dylan exhales before continuing. “When he would take me somewhere, he always seemed... distracted. He would be talking to other people or on his phone. He took me to a movie one time and after the previews said he needed to go to bathroom and didn’t come back till the movie was over.”

You son threw his plate hard and you followed him reaching for something else to throw along with him.

“If I could go back in time, I swear to god…”, you growl.

“Ok, Rocky. Chill.”, Eddie chuckles as he runs his palm through your hair. “But for real though. What kind of guy would leave a dope kid to watch…what was it?”

“Spiderman.”

“Oh my god. Seriously? Who does that?” The metalhead tosses a plate casually, smiling when it shatters.

“Eddie’s right. I mean, you’ve shown me all those Marvel movies! Wait until Ro get into them and you can tell her all that trivia you gave me. I think it’s so cool you know all that stuff.”, Steve grins as he throws something else.

“My dad never liked anything I did! He always said it boring and nerdy.”

“Who says? And even then, what’s wrong with being nerdy?” Eddie hands him something to throw and he does.

“Right? There’s nothing wrong with it. Not like it matters because I tried things he likes and he still doesn’t care!” Dylan continued to talk, casually throwing things between each of his sentence. “I did everything I could and even then, he’s still too busy! He was too busy for mom and me but had time for Vivi! He was too busy to hang out with me but has time for everyone else! He always seemed to find time to make my mom cry or tell me I should try something other boys are into but can’t come to one baseball game! He doesn’t even call me on my birthday anymore! How is he going to have time for a baby when he doesn’t have any time for me!”

Dylan pauses as he reaches into the box again to find it empty. He turns his head to find you three standing off to the side, watching him. Steve takes his hand and guides him to the porch steps where he and Eddie sit so they can be eye level with him as you come up behind him, wrap your arms around his chest, and rest your head on top of his own.

“Do you how when people say, ‘I know how you feel’ and you think ‘You have no fucking idea how I feel’? Dylan… we KNOW how you feel. We know our family is a little weird but…”, Steve smiles when the boy laughs. “The first time we met you when you knocked on our door, we knew you were a unique kid. You’re so smart, funny, incredibly kind. I love watching you play with Ro. You’re extremely patient with her and you make her giggle all the time.”

“You’re actually a lot like your mom. When we met her our lives were kind of stagnant.”

“Stagnant?”

“Boring.”, you reply. “I know. Eddie’s whipping out the big words.”

“You calm down over there, princess.”, he winks before turning his attention back to Dylan. “What Steve and I are trying to say is, we understand that you’re going to think about or miss Charlie. Nothing wrong with that and you won’t hurt our feelings if you ever want to talk about him or anything like that. We just hope you know that…we love you very much.”

“And we would never do anything to make you feel like you’re not important or that what you like or enjoy doesn’t matter. We see you the exact same way we Aurora. You’re our son. Full stop. No strings attached. No conditions. You’re safe with us, little man.”

Dylan detaches from you to wrap his arms around Steve before disconnecting to do the same with Eddie.

“Ok, criminal. You’re free from the adults now.”

“Criminal?”

“I don’t know. Kid’s sneaking out now, getting grounded…He’s a wild child. Who knows what he’ll do next.”, Eddie shrugs as Dylan rolls his eyes before they meet yours.

“Go head and can you please make sure Ro is still asleep?”

“Oh! And don’t tell her about this. The toddler doesn’t really need that idea planted in her head of throwing dishes.”

Your son nods as he runs back into the house. Both men look up at you with a knowing gleam in their eyes.

“And you two were afraid of becoming your fathers.”, you smirk.

“Eh. We may have grown up a little bit these past six years.”, Steve grins as he reaches for your arms, tugging you between his legs before leaning his neck up to kiss your lips.

“Thank you for that and this.”, you gesture towards the glass.

“Of course. Now let me go get a broom so you can clean up this mess you made, sweetheart.”

You fain a gasp as he stands and you lightly smack him with your hand. “MY mess!? Excuse me, sir!” Eddie cackles as he runs into the house and Steve guides you towards a step to take a seat. “You’re not even going to let me help, are you?”

The boy shakes his head as he grins, the metalhead charging back out with a broom and a trash bag.

############# @adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @alienthingstwo

@steddieloverrr @manda-panda-monium

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri @sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

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third-arch · 6 months

Text

My Trafalgar Law HC’s!! pt.8🤍🤍

ft. Reader-ya!! + Harry Potter HC’s

Law can roll his R’s. He will flirt with Reader-ya doing this.

For Halloween, Law will dress up as a wolf and Reader-ya will be Little Red Riding Hood. (Reader-ya convinced him to do it !!)

Law really likes buying things for Reader-ya. He’ll remember her saying something like “I really want that, but I’m so broke waaa (;-;” and without knowing, he’ll buy it for her.

Law likes reading with and watching movies with Reader-ya. He likes cuddling with her under the blanket and smooching her.

He’s okay with PDA, but he only reciprocates. So, if she kisses him, he’ll kiss back. The only thing he’ll initiate is squeezing her hand to communicate.

Law will always hug and kiss her compassionately. He’ll also kiss her wrapped injuries after he’s done treating her or after a mission. If something requires bandages, he’ll always make a small bow for her as a small way of saying “I love you”.

Harry Potter HC’s!!

I think Law would be Ravenclaw and Reader-ya would be Hufflepuff.

I think Reader-ya would get bullied or hurt by someone (most likely Doflamingo) at Hogwarts and go to the infirmary room for routine checkups where Law works as a student.

Law would scold Reader-ya and listen to her and Reader-ya would open up to him. They'd talk and spend a good hour or so everyday after the first two or three meetings.

After a while, Reader-ya would stop showing up bc she's gotten better and Law gets really sad. But it's funny bc if she does show up then he'll be mad bc she's hurt LOL. He’s a total tsundere.

They discover that they take a lot of plant classes together and that Reader-ya also takes animal classes. Law would interact with her and they'd do homework together. They’d train together. Law would be stronger than Reader-ya, but she trains a lot more. It causes conflict at times.

Reader-ya would forget her homework and Law would just look away as he's handing her his notebook like “Don’t let it happen again, silly-ya”. And she smiles really big and Law turns around to catch it and just is in love with her.

It would look something like this:

They're already pretty vulnerable and open with each other at that point, and Law becomes unintentionally more compassionate and tsundere with students in the infirmary.

Regardless, he’ll be much more thorough and helpful when treating them, and be much more gentle because of Reader-ya.

Law gets teased too for hanging out and crushing over Reader-ya, because she's very eccentric and very much a lone wolf.

He waits for Reader-ya and wants her to show up. Sometimes, she’ll pass in the hall and his heart will skip a beat from the infirmary room. If she waves at him and smiles, Law’s internal CPU will crash LOL. I also forgot but Law would like watching her conjure animals.

I think she’d have a ferret, an owl, or a dog. Law would have one of those, too, but not the same one. He hates the fact that they're in different classes and so they pass notes alot too and find quiet places to hang out. They skip class together once to go into the woods and I think that'll be their flower crown chapter.

I think Law will start to realize she likes him when he catches her looking at him during lunch from another table. He also starts seeing her blush a lot more and uses it as an excuse to check her fever and look at her and touch her forehead.

She’ll also do alot more conjurations around him and draw things for him. She’ll write little things in his notebooks and during class he’ll let her draw in them. He’ll start pecking her cheeks at times and Reader-ya starts hugging him a lot more.

Law and Reader-ya get detention when they're caught sleeping together in the halls or in a quiet area they usually go to (not anything sexual, just like literally cuddling sleeping.)

Still, I like to think this could be possible but maybe the professors just let it slide when Law and Reader-ya get flirty because they realize what she endured or something and also just realize that they’re both smart, mature and healthy. They don’t have any concerns.

Before that, During xmas (I can’t remember if this is canon or not) but Reader-ya won’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, so Law will do one of two things:

1. He’ll stay behind and keep her company.

2. He’ll invite her to his place for the holidays.

On Christmas, Law kisses Reader-ya under the mistletoe and confesses his love to her. They become a very loving and strong couple!!🤍🤍🤍

#one piece #op #trafalgar law #one piece art #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgar op #op imagines #harry potter #hogwarts #My Trafalgar Law HC's!!#my trafalgar law hc’s!!

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imtrashraccoon · 1 month

Text

Not sure what to do with myself at the moment. Slight rant post below so no hard feelings if you skip it.

I have been trying to split my attention between three wips. These are The Nightmare of Apathy: Chapter 5, Swarmed by Sirens: Chapter 4, and a special Dreamswap oneshot for The Nightmare of Apathy that is currently called To Defy A Dream.

The issue is I've had a rough week with work. I work as a customer service person in a corporate hardware store and while I mostly like my job, there are parts that are extremely stressful for me. I am in the middle of transitioning to another department that will likely be less stressful but the process is something I haven't done before. I'm confident everything will work out but at the same time I'm scared I'll be wrong and this will be worse. I have to keep telling myself that this is incorrect.

I want to write but I can't seem to motivate myself at the moment. I got back into playing some of my favourite games, Project Zomboid and also Stardew Valley, but it's keeping me from writing lol. I also would like to draw some more, whether that be more affirmation doodles or finishing more siren art.

This is a small problem I suppose, but I guess I just want to have a chat with you guys. Any ideas are appreciated since I'm trying to find a way to motivate myself to finish one of the above wips. I'd love to talk about my wips or OC's or just answer any random questions. You don't have to though, I'll breakthrough this slump eventually.

I'm getting close to 200 followers and I'm still trying to think what I want to do for that.

#raccoons reblogs #this feels like first world problems #i'm tired man #writing is my favourite hobby though so this sucks #i appreciate every one of you!#thank you for liking and reblogging my posts

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cdelphiki · 2 months

Note

I was rereading some snippet from your "In For a Pound" series and it's still one of the best reimaginings of the Batfam that I've ever read. I'm so glad that you're enjoying getting back to "Jason and the Three Terrors" because it seems like such a labor of love for you. That said, I kinda can't wait until you dip back into "The Best Things"...haha! Obviously, take your time and write whatever you want whenever you want! Just thought I'd give your other AU a little love today! All the best!

Haha thanks! Right now the goal is a green check mark on J&3T, but even going at 2 chapters a week it’ll take quite a while longer. There’s probably 5? Ish chapter left in part II and then all of part III which if it’s anything like 1 and 2 it’s gonna be another 25-30 chapters lol. So that’s what, 18 weeks? If I can continue with this pace? I already know I’ll have to skip a week or three this summer.

Then my current plan is to go over to Reclaiming Innocence to finish that up. It’s actually not far from being done so that’s part of the reason I’m going to shift it it next. THEN I’ll move back to in for a pound. The Best Things is the WIP I have the least handle on, but I do want to finish it up so I can move on to the next stories in the series. I imagine I’ll be working on that series for many years to come lol.

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velteris · 6 months

Text

Frieren timeline

The only timeline available on the wiki isn’t super fleshed out with exact dates and counting backwards etc. So I decided to make my own.

Notes:

1. Spoilers for up to manga ch119 (the most recent at this time)

2. Even if it’s likely just a rough measure (“three hundred years ago”), I’m gonna assume when doing my math that it was exactly 300 years, because otherwise I can’t do most of the math

3. I skip most events that don’t have an exact year, eg Fern and Stark respective being taken in by Heiter and Eisen. I do make some estimates (eg Sein’s birthday, we only know he’s in mid-30s so he can’t have been born any further back than year xx).

4. Standardised year 0 as the year the demon king was defeated

5. Realised about 2/3rds through that I could be writing down chapter citations but at that point it was too late lol sorry

behold!

-3,000: Earliest mentioned date, by Frieren re: dwarf beliefs; most people believed the dead turn to dust, so pre-Goddess. Unclear when Goddess actually starts appearing.

[Emperor Boshaft alive, so is Milliarde, Frieren in village]

-1,000: Frieren becomes Flamme’s apprentice

-950: Flamme passes away*

-510: the last time Frieren fought a demon (quite likely Macht, as in year 80 she says 600 years ago, which would be -520. What’s a decade here and there?)

-420: Frieren restores her golden arm

-422: Aura became one of the seven sages of destruction

-322: the last time Frieren saw another elf, Grandfather Voll starts to protect village

-222: the last time Kraft saw another elf

-120: Fass finds Emperor Boshaft’s alcohol, Gehn starts working on his village’s bridge

-26: Himmel is born

-11?: Hero of the South visits Frieren and dies a year later; tells her she’ll meet Himmel soon**

-10: Hero Party sets out from capital

[Hero Party kills Immortal Bose and pushes back Aura sometime during this period]

-3: Goddess arc (Himmel is 23), Hero Party seals Qual***

0: Demon King defeated, Era Meteors, Macht starts to serve^

2: Denken born

20: Macht is braceleted

28: Continental Magic Association started (at latest), Lernen was first first-class mage

29: Denken came to Auberst with his wife (who died when he was in his twenties); Denken’s wife presumably passed away very soon after

30: last sighting of a Darkness Dragon (per random apothecary); Weis turned to gold and sealed

39: Earliest possible Sein birthday (he would be 40); humanity learns to fly

45: Wirbel born

50: 2nd Era Meteors; Himmel passes away; Aura reappears, demon activity increases in north and baby Wirbel makes promise

61: Stark is born earlier in the year after winter; Fern is born some time after harvest festival but before the last three months of the year

68: Graf Granat’s son dies in war against Aura

69: Sein’s friend Gorilla left

70: Frieren and Fern meet

74: Heiter collapses

75: Stark runs away from Eisen

76: Heiter passes away; Frieren and Fern set out on their journey

76.5: half a year spent looking for blue moonweed

77: Fern turns 16 (after spring, latest autumn)

78: 3+ Months spent at seaside town cleaning beach

79: wintered with Kraft, Stark’s 18th bday (after spring), meet Sein around harvest festival (time is a bit funky since it gets cold and then warm after this?)^^

80: El Dorado arc

81: first chapter after El Dorado. As of ch119, we are here, 31 years after Hero Himmel’s death!

and in the future…

97: Tod’s “curse” will engulf the star?

100: Next meteor shower. Fern and Stark would be 39.

149: Frieren promised to be back at hero’s sword village by this time

1079: Frieren may return to the Continental Mage Association :)

*Assuming she died soon after Frieren’s last shown convo with her where she said “it’s only been 50 years”

**Unclear just when was the Frieren/Hero of the South meeting, so it could technically be anywhere before, but -11 is the most recent it could be

***Frieren says it’s been 80 years in year 77. If she’s being precise then this is the date—but I have doubts as Qual was sealed in the Central Lands, and Hero Party should be well into the Northern Plateau near the goddess monument by this point.

^Technically I think Macht starts to serve a leetle bit before the demon king is defeated, but no time frame given for how long it took Macht and Glück to have those convos

^^To be more precise: they start the year’s winter with Kraft. Then it gets warm, and Stark’s birthday happens. Harvest festivals are usually in autumn, which is when they meet Sein, and then it gets cold enough for the gang to wear their winter gear again, and they spend a winter (or a cold snap?) with Sein. When they get to Auberst they spend an additional two months training with Fern while waiting for the exam to start. But when they finally leave Auberst in ch61, and aren’t wearing their winter clothes anymore, it’s still listed as 29 years post-Himmel death??? There’s a mention of it being because they’re in the volcanic belt… But seriously, year 79 goes on and on. I honestly think the authors just forgot to find a good spot to switch that over lol

#frieren #sousou no frieren #behold my work #and merry christmas lol

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makeste · 8 months

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Loving the return of the BNHA reactions - any further updates since vol 36?

yes, actually! so there has been a change of plans! here's the deal:

so as you're probably aware, after all of my fuffering two weeks ago about whether or not to skip ahead to the newest chapters, I decided to roll with the majority of people who advised me to keep plugging away at the old chapters first.

HOWEVER, I'm sad to report I only made it up to chapter 370 before I was waylaid by unforeseen circumstances. said circumstances being that my almost four-year-long streak of being Covid-free finally came to an end last week. 😭 it was good while it lasted. but yeah, that kind of took me out for a solid chunk of days. thankfully I'm feeling better now!

then a couple of days ago, I received an ask from a kind individual who informed me that there were in fact a lot of things happening right now in the manga which are very pertinent to my interests, and which I probably would want to experience and enjoy here in the moment alongside my fellow fans!

so after some consideration I took their advice and skipped ahead to read chapters 404, 405, and 406. and having now done so, I can say with certainty that it was the right call for me and I do not regret it whatsoever! because holy shit, these chapters are life.

so, long story short, I technically still have 33 chapters to go (which I will be resuming this weekend). but also, there's going to be a full-blown chapter 406 recap going up in like an hour or so from now lol. that's just how the dice fell. blame it on the coronavirus sapping away all of my remaining willpower. and Horikoshi for writing three back-to-back wish fulfillment chapters seemingly especially for me. what a generous man.

#makeste reads bnha #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #not sure if I'll wait to post 404 and 405 until after I'm fully caught up #leaning towards posting them a bit sooner though since my janky pseudo-403 recap is up already #might as well get the newer stuff all posted #and continue filling in the rest of the blanks as time permits #I've still got... three? or four chapters left to finish up volume 37 #and then I'll post that too and start on 38 #there's a system at work here I promise #sorta #kinda #mostly #somewhat!!

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just-my-fandom · 1 year

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Rocky Road P3 (JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader)

Season 2 chapter 3

Summary; Popes appointment in Charleston takes an omnious turn over a proposed trade.

Warnings; Cursing, Pope almost gets kidnapped lol, Reader gets shot (yep), lots of time skips.

Note; Back at it again, I haven’t updated since February 2022 and I’m excited to get back down to business. Let’s GO!

Edit; So I’ve realized that the end got cut off, my Tumblr has been glitching to where it’s cutting off the last two sentences of anything I write. Please disregard as I try to fix this!

Tag list; @sinisterspidey @parkerhale13 @thoughts-elsewhere @b-lueberryy @deamus-liv @bubs-world @bibliophilewednesday @sexualparkour @jjpouggues @poguestyle17

You stand with your arms crossed. Head tilted up, your eyes squint against the bright afternoon sun to eye the wire gate in front of you.

“So like,” JJ brings a hand to rub the back of his head, “Are those spikes to keep people out?”

“No,” Kiaras answer is simple, sad, and you glance over to look at her,

“The slave quarters are over there,” Popes head nods across the yard past the gate, and your eyebrows raise in realization, “These spikes were to keep people in,”

Minutes later, and you watch as Pope knocks on the front door once, twice, three times before stepping back, his gaze flickering between you and your two other friends, “Think that was too much?”

“It echoed the entire house, that’s for sure,” JJ flicks his eyebrows up, shrugging, “So they definitely heard it,”

“Maybe nobody’s home,” Kie hopes, Pope reaching forward to knock again, only this time the door jerks open, and you step back as a man steps into view, snarl stuck on his face as he looks between the four teenagers,

The man suddenly smirks, finger raising to point at your friend beside you, “You must be Pope,”

“Um,” Pope pauses, “Are you Mr. Limbrey?”

“Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday,” The man raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning across you, JJ, then Kie before settling back on Pope,

“I’m sorry,” Pope clears his throat, “My car broke down on the way up here,”

“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville,” JJ speaks up, so the man’s eyes then stared at JJ, slowly shifting to you so your brows furrowed,

“Yeah she was real upset when you didn’t show up,” The man stares at Pope once again, Kie shrugging a weak shoulder,

“We tried to call, but there’s no number on the invitation,”

“We got here as fast as we could,” You exhale, the man grunting as he, a third time, stares at you, before looking back to Pope,

“She also expected you to come alone,”

“I mean, these are my friends,” Pope glances back as the man rolls his eyes, “They helped find the Royal Merchant too. Y/Ns dad-,”

“Yeah the instructions were explicit,” The man cuts, “Your friends can stay outside,”

Your eyes flick to the man, nodding, silently, “We’ll keep the car running, then,”

. . .

“Look, if Limbrey is legit-,” Kiaras sudden conversation dies down at the weird sight of the man and Ms. Limbrey leading Pope to the back of the house.

You worriedly look at JJ, confused, “Does that look voluntary?”

“That would be a negative,” JJ mutters, Kiara already beginning to open the passenger door,

“Come on,”

“Whoa hold on hold on,” JJ immediately reaches to grab her arm, “They’re going into the alley,”

“Go around back,” You order, JJ throwing the truck into drive before he begins to round the house, your head shaking as you lean forward, searching the front and back window, “I don’t see them,”

“There!” Kies sudden shrieks leads JJ to slam on the breaks, his arm instantly sticking in front of you when you lurch forward, your hand grasping his forearm as you watch Pope climb in, yelling for JJ to get a move on.

It only takes three road turns before the hood of the truck begins to smoke a second time, JJ slamming a hand down onto the wheel when the truck stutters to a stop, looking at Pope next to Kie in a panic, “Now what?”

“Go around!” As everyone climbed out the truck, JJs arm slide around your back to push you forward, immediately beginning to sprint down the road behind Kie and Pope.

“Does he have a gun?” You gasp, JJ tugging on your wrist to pull you down an alley, Pope skidding in an attempt to follow, before you rush out onto the street, nearing getting hit by two people on a motor bike,

“Sorry-!” Your hand raising on reflex automatically halts upon getting a look at the rider, eyes widening as John B grins, very much alive and well in front of you, “John B?”

“Get in!” John B alarms, JJ pushing you into the back seat of the motorbike as John B began to pedal, and soon enough you find yourself on the beach, pushing a boat into the water and finally getting a gasp of air,

. . .

“He’s taken care of you while I’ve been gone, right?”

John Bs words are quiet. Your eyes move away from the warm fire in front of you, shifting your gaze over to your brother who sat next to you, beer bottle in hand.

“Just like he promised,” You hum, nodding with a small smile, “It’s really good to have you back, JB. Therapy’s been shit-,”

“Wait, you’re taking therapy?” John B questions, quietly, eyebrows pinched as his head ducks, “How’re you paying for it?”

“The school offered it after you went missing,” You explain, “Hence why it’s shit. And they’re still trying to put me in the system-,”

“I thought Kies mom would’ve let you,”

“Will you stop interrupting me?” You narrow your eyes, John B raising his hand in surrender, “We tried. But the system isn’t budging. Plus with Kie getting in trouble for hanging out with pogues, I doubt I would’ve gotten far with it,”

“Well I’m here now,” John B drops a hand onto your shoulder, shaking it, lightly, “And we’re not going anywhere,”

Your smile drops almost as soon as it comes. John B is standing on high alert, your brows pinched in confusion as you sit up in your seat, “What is it, John?”

“I heard a car door,”

You pause, eyes skimming the dark yard as JJ made his way next to your chair, “You’re probably just paranoid, JB,”

Silence, before John B is suddenly grabbing your arm, tugging you onto your feet before pushing you towards JJ, “Hide. Now,”

It’s a solid five minutes before you see him. Rafe, Barry close behind. You sit on a tree branch feet above where you once stood, hugging the large trunk for support while feeling JJs hands at your hips, keeping both you and him steady.

“Anything?” Rafes voice startles you, body jerking slightly so JJs grip tightened, leaning forward to press his chest to your back,

“Nah, there ain’t shit in there, bro,” Barry’s grumble is audible as he stomps out of the Chateau, “Nothing,”

“They were obviously just here based off the smoke,” Rafe points to the abandoned fire pit, Barry scoffing out an irritated chuckle,

“Great observation, Boy Scout,”

“They gotta be around here somewhere,” Rafes head shakes, his body turning to face the tree you sat perched on, eyes landing on the engraved memorial on the tree for John B,

“P4L,” Barry snickers, Rafes jaw clenching as he nods, “Yo sisters a pogue for life now, huh, Rafe?”

“Shit!!” Rafes shout is loud, Barry even stepping back once as Rafe raises the gun in his hand, shooting once, twice, at the tree, before Barry rushes forward, grabbing at Rafes arm.

The movement jerks the gun upwards as it continues to shoot, JJs arm jolting out in front of your face as his other fully wraps around your front, nearly shielding you as your hands fly to your head,

“Rafe, chill!” Barry demands, “You’re gonna get our asses busted, man! Let’s bounce. Let’s go!”

The two take off in a sprint. JJ raises his head from your shoulder, eyes immediately gazing down at where your breaths heaved, hand clutching at your thigh- that stained red,

“Holy shit,” JJs hand tugs your arm up, leaning back to fully look at the grazed bullet mark on your thigh, “Holy fuck, John B, she got hit,”

“What?” John B forces himself to climb a branch over to you, your gasp wheezed in a panic as JJs arm tugs you to face him, hand pressing down hard on your thigh,

“She got fucking shot, dude!” JJ lifts his hand momentarily from the wound to lift you off the branch, your arm immediately coming around his shoulders for support as he leapt off the branch, catching you from impact, “I need towels, and water- where the fuck is Kie when we need her?!”

JJ lowers you to sit against the tree, John B rushing inside the Chateau as Sarah stares in a panic, JJs hands raising to your face so one cheek was stained with blood,

“Baby, you’re okay,” He sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself more than you, but the quickness of your breathing worries him to the point of you passing out, “The bullet just grazed you, you’re okay,”

Your head knocks back against the tree with a pinch of your eyes, JJ looking over his shoulder as John B shoves a towel in his face, followed by a roll of tape and bandages while a water bottle remains clutched in his free hand,

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” JJs mutter leads your eyes to open, instantly shutting again at the sheer pain of JJ tightening the bandage around your thigh,

Your hiss is loud, hand grabbing at JJs shoulder so he looks up, eyes softening at your pinched brows and glossy eyes,

“There’s blood, everywhere,” Despite the wound being patched, you still seem in shock, eyes wide on the blood staining your hands and his, which now stained his tank top,

“Let’s get a shower, baby,” JJs arm slides to your back, heaving you up on your feet so your own hand grips the fabric of said tank top, “You’re good, you’re good,”

“Holy shit,” John Bs hand raises to his hair, eyes flicking to Sarah when she squeezes his free arm, assuringly. His eyes flick down to her own bullet wound, heaving a breath, “Fuck,”

The next morning, Kie and Pope park the boat at the dock, Kiaras brows pinched as the group of four rushed down the dock, JJs arm supporting your limped form,

“What’s going on?” Pope stands from his spot, eyes zooming in on your leg, “What the fuck happened?”

“Rafe knows they’re back,” JJ hisses, “Went fucking nuts and shot a gun. Hit Y/N,”

“It just grazed, she’ll be okay,” Sarah reminds, as JJ steps into the boat, first, arms reaching out to you to help you step in,

“We’ve gotta go, there’s no telling when he’ll be back,” John B rushes, Kiara nodding before moving back to the boats wheel.

. . .

“Look, if Rafe and Barry know, it’s only a matter of time,”

You settle yourself on a rock perched, eyes watching as Kie, Sarah and Pope took seats, while JJ and John B continued to stand.

“I told you,” JJ scoffs, “We should’ve gone south, man,” JJ jabs a finger towards John B, “Why does no one ever listen?”

“I get it! I get it, I understand,” John B tries, JJ shaking his head as he spins, gesturing a hand out to you,

“Obviously not! Not only did you let Rafe shoot Sarah, but he shot your sister! You better be fucking glad that bullet grazed her!”

“J,” You murmur, raising your own hand so he heaves a sigh, taking your hand while standing beside you, refusing to sit,

“I know my dad,” Sarah speaks up, “He’s going to have to choose between me and Rafe, he’ll choose me. I just need two hours,”

JJ raises his arm and let’s it drop to his side as Sarah moves towards the boat, your eyes watching, silently, as she leaves without another word.

“J, sit down,” You murmur, tugging at his fingers, so he finally sunk down next to you, head fallen forward with a deep sigh.

. . .

“So, how’d it go?”

As John B helped Sarah off the boat, JJ peeled the old bandaged from your thigh. Your small hiss leads him to whisper an apology, taking the roll of fresh bandages from Kie to unravel,

“You were right,” Sarah sighs, glancing over her shoulder where JJ tucked the bandages over one another, before rolling down your shorts, taking your hands to stand you up, “It didn’t work,”

“Welp, then that settles it, guys,” JJ snips, looking over his own shoulder to narrow his eyes at her, “Now y’all need to load up in the paddy wagon and get the heck out of Dodge right now,”

“Yeah, you’ll need the supplies,” Pope nods, “Then y’all will need to split as soon as possible,”

“Guys I think it’s too late,” Kie speaks, your eyes shifting to the side of the water, squinting at three police boats,

“They followed you here?”

“We gotta go,” JJ rushes, throwing your arm over his shoulders while his own loops at your waist, beginning to pull you after John B, who did the same with Sarah, “Go!”

“Oh my gosh,” You heave, looking over your shoulder in a panic, “We won’t get far- with two injured people-,”

“I’ve got you,” JJ breathes, following your eyesight to a man trailing behind with a gun, “We’re good,”

The group ducks behind a large tree, your body turning to press your back to it, eyes staring at two cop cars skidding to a stop in the sand, “Guys,”

“What do we do?”

“We’re not getting out of this,” JJ heaves, your eyes watching him pull something- his gun- from his pocket, “We gotta make a stand,”

“J, no,” Your hand grasps his shirt, fisting it, “No, that’s not the answer,”

John B rushes to grab JJs wrist, grasping the gun with his free to toss it at your feet, head shaking, “Listen to her,”

JJ looks at you, watching your foot shuffle to throw dirt over the gun, covering it, JJ side stepping halfway in front of you as Shoupe and several officers rushed forward, all heading for John B.

“No no no- stop!”

. . .

“They’re gonna kill him in there,” You tug your cardigan over your front, sighing. Your eyes glance across the outside of the courthouse, sighing as JJs fingers grasped your upper arm, keeping you next to him.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you and your family,” You hear a man, glancing over to see him speaking with Ward, “Thank God for the system,”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You spit without thinking, JJs fingers tightening in warning as the two men looked over, “Of course you think the system worked because it was made to protect people like you,”

“He’ll have his day in court, a jury will decide,”

“He shouldn’t even be in court!” You pull your arm free, pointing to Ward, “You should, because you’re a murderer!”

“I know you’re upset,” Ward speaks, your eyebrows flicking up, “I know he’s got you all fooled, about this, about your father,”

“You know what really happened to my father, because you were there!” You step forward, JJ instantly sliding in front of you to grasp your arms, Shoupe behind you,

“No, no, get the fuck off her,” JJ jabs a finger to Shoupe, “Why don’t you go arrest a Kook for a change, huh?”

“You wanna get arrested? Get out! You need to go,”

“You’re a piece of shit Ward,” You hiss, “No wonder your daughters with us,”

“Okay, baby, you gotta stop,” JJ grasps your shoulders, spinning you around so Kie took your hand, “Let’s go,”

. . .

“I’m gonna testify under oath,”

Your eyes can barely stay open at this point. Curled on the couch on the patio, your halflidded eyes watch Sarah pace, “I was there! I just need to get in contact with my sister,”

“Sister?” JJ grumbles, your shrug light as his fingers trail across your bare legs.

“Wheeze was the only one who knows Rafe wasn’t home that day!”

“Wheeze?” JJ questions,

“I don’t know what else to do!” Sarah panics, “I got us into this mess, I have to get us out!”

“She’s right about one thing, we have to think of something,” JJ sits up, hand now grasping your calf,

“And do what? Kidnap Shoupe?”

“That’s not actually the worst idea, Kie,”

“It’s not?” “No!”

“That’s actually the worst idea ever,” Pope cuts, JJ jabbing a finger towards him,

“Okay, Pope, we’ve been doing everything your way, and how has that been going?”

“Okay so what’s your plan?” Pope stands, now nearly hovering over both you and JJ, “You’re gonna storm a jail, guns-a-blazing?”

“All I’m saying is that they have our boy,” JJ stands up, you sitting up to grab his wrist, warning him, “And we’re just gonna sit on our asses? No, we’re gonna do something about it!”

“We are not storming a jail. That’s not happening,”

“That’s fine man,” JJ mutters, “Sit in your comfy chair. Do nothing. I’m gonna see what I can do. Make something happen, even if I have to do it myself,”

“JJ,” You stand up, hand still ahold of his wrist, “Come with me,”

JJ fixes his hat onto his head, jaw rolling as he fixes your grasp to take his fingers, letting you pull him into the rain outside the patio. He allows you to drag him to the hammocks, your hand running through your now wet hair as you look up at him,

“JJ, we can’t do this again,”

“I’m trying to save him, Y/N,” JJs brows pinch, hair sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you, “Do you not want that?”

“Of course I do, but not in a wreckless way!” You speak loudly over the rain, hands now grasping his shirt at his sides, “I need you to think this through. Last time something like this happened, we got in a fight and nearly broke up. I’m not watching you do something like this again, okay?”

His head tilts back to look up, wet hair falling back as his chest heaves in a deep sigh. Your hands raise to his jaw, tilting his head down to you, eyes instantly closing when your lips press to his, his own hands pressing to your face.

“Are you calm?” You barely pull back, him instantly pulling you back against him, his grasp lightening as he leans back, eyes flicking between yours.

“I’m going to think of something,” You blink, JJ pressing a kiss to your wet forehead before releasing you, stepping towards his dirt bike.

“I love you,” You call, waiting for him to look at you, “I really do,”

“I love you too,” He breathes, fixing his hat, “Stay safe,”

. . .

“That’s a lot of wax on your board. Put too much wax, it’s gonna be slippery,”

“Are you telling me how to wax my board?”

“I’m just saying,” Pope raises his hands as JJ raises an eyebrow, “That’s a lot of wax,”

“Guys, chill out, please,” You heave, JJ looking at you upon a distanced honk,

“You hear that?”

You look over, sitting up straight in your chair to see the Twinkie driving up, your smile wide as you push to stand to your feet, “Nuh-uh,”

“Yuh-huh!” Your brother grins as he slams the door to the van, running up to embrace you, “Guess whose out of the clink boy!”

“Uh, they dropped the charges,” John B sheepishly grins, JJ raising his brows,

“So all that work, I did for nothing,”

“Oh, the most elaborate escape plan of all time?” Pope jokes, John B looking around in confusion,

“Wait, where’s Sarah?” At everyone’s pause, he looks at you, “Where is Sarah?”

“She went to see Wheezie last night,” Kie speaks, “She hasn’t come back,”

. . .

“So,”

You lift your head from the hammock you laid on, JJ stretched out beside you, opposite end, hand messing with the anklet on your foot, “He’s out, huh?”

“Yeah, he is,” You breathe, foot jerking when JJ tickles the bottom, your giggle light so he smiles,

“There she is,” He murmurs, grasping your ankle to tug on it, “C’mere,”

You sit up, shifting to turn around without rocking the hammock too much to knock you off, laying tucked against JJs side as his arm hooks around your shoulders.

“What’re you thinkin’ ‘bout, pretty girl?” JJs lips press to your forehead, resting there when you exhale through your nose,

“How we can’t seem to catch a break,” You murmur, hand twisting his t-shirt mindlessly, “Ever since Dad went missing, we’ve just been running. And now that Limberys involved it doesn’t seem to be getting any better,”

“We’re gonna get a break soon,” JJ speaks, tilting his head to rest overtop of yours, “And I mean hey, when’s the last time we sat in this hammock, hm?”

“Yeah, I have missed this,” You slide your arm across his chest, before he twists, facing you. Your hand reaches up to comb his blonde hair from his face, the back of your hand brushing across his cheek. “I love you, JJ,”

JJ hums, head leaning forward to kiss your lips, hand reaching for the back of your head, “I love you, too, baby,” A peck, then two, and you giggle as he continues, moving to kiss your cheek, “So so so much,”

“J!” You cackle, JJ rolling to hover above you, the hammock rocking against his movements, “J, we are gonna fall if you don’t quit,”

“You’re just too irresistible, baby,” JJ leans down, your hands cupping his neck to hold him still, “Can’t get enough of you,”

You allow his teeth to dig into your bottom lip, hand sliding up your flowy shirt to graze your rib cage, inching to your chest,

“Guys!” Kies shout startles you to lean back, looking over in alarm as JJ sits up with his hands at your hips, “We gotta go, Wards at the dock.”

#jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks one shot #outer banks imagine #Rocky road

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