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#what am i talking about i have no idea i just spent the last six hours drawing something reeallllyy cool
whumpy-wyrms · 3 months
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I LOVEEEE ART
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lxkeee · 3 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
—PART SIX
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fallen Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Warnings: none
Notes: sorry it took awhile^^" this is a long chapterr and Happy Valentine's day everyone<3
Word count: 2.5k
PART ONE | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN
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It has been two days since [y/n] started living with Lucifer in the palace of hell that is located in the pride circle. It's awkward to say the least, it has been years since... Well, they spent time with each other.
Lucifer on the other hand is very overprotective over her, making sure she's alright even though she has already fully healed herself.
Both fallen angels spent most of their time just talking and catching up with one another. Lucifer shared to her what happened with his marriage and [y/n] sharing to him what happened to her in heaven when he was gone and she also told him about her time at the hotel with Charlie.
Currently the two are in the living room of the palace, Lucifer's head on [y/n]'s lap as she plays with his hair. Fingers weaving through silky blond locks, soft against her fingertips. Lucifer's eyes are closed as he enjoys the sensation of her fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp. He misses this so much, it brought back a sense of deja vu to him. Reminding him of the past where he and [y/n] would just be lying down on the clouds, cloud gazing while she plays with his hair and his head on her lap. Lucifer wonders what his life would be if he chose to stay in heaven and didn't break any rules. Would he have been happy with [y/n]? Lucifer mentally asked himself, realizing the thought made his cheeks warmed up.
[Y/n] raises an eyebrow as she watches the man shake his head to himself, laughing quietly to herself.
“What's got you thinking? I just saw you physically disagree with whatever thought you just had.” [y/n] says with a small chuckle, looking down on him. Strands of her hair falling off from her ear where she tucked them, silk like [h/c] locks caressing Lucifer's cheeks. Lucifer looks up and sees her gazing at him, curiosity in her eyes, her hair framing her face perfectly. She looked absolutely divine. Wait a minute, since when did he start looking at his best friend through heart shaped pink colored glasses?!
The realization made his jaw drop, [y/n] getting more confused as she placed her fingers underneath his chin to close his mouth again.
“Now I am really curious what's going on inside that head of yours.” [y/n] mutters, her hand had stopped playing with his hair moments ago.
Lucifer shakes his head, “It is nothing, just... Hell stuff...” he says awkwardly with a laugh, his fingers pulling his collar as it suddenly felt too tight around his neck.
[Y/n] looked at him with her eyebrow still raised but eventually sighs, deciding not to push him to say whatever is bothering him. “Whatever you say, Lu.” she says softly and the comfortable silence falls between them once more. [Y/n] humming a tune while she plays with his hair once more while Lucifer was having an internal conflict.
“It has been awhile since I've last visited the hotel, how about we go and see how the others are?” [y/n] murmurs softly, Lucifer opens his eyes to look at her. His red eyes dilated as he gazed up at her, a soft look on his face. He grins at her, showing her that toothy smile that she loves.
“What a wonderful idea, we should visit them!” Lucifer grins, excited to see his daughter again. Although, not really thrilled in seeing the other sinners. Especially that radio demon. He knows that the bastard would try to pull something that will annoy him.
Lucifer sighs once more, [y/n] wondering what got him to change his mood again. At this point she got used to it.
Sitting up, leaving the comfort of her lap. He sat and faced her, seeing her hair falling into her face, he gently tucks it behind her ear.
The two stared at each other a few seconds before quickly avoiding each other's gazes. Cheeks heating up.
“... Right, we should visit them right now” Lucifer says, clearing his throat awkwardly and [y/n] turns to look at him once more.
“Like... Right now..?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and he nodded.
[Y/n] clears her throat, trying to calm her fast beating heart. She expected this, her buried feelings now unraveling like petals of a newly bloomed flower.
Awkward...
Lucifer coughs awkwardly, turning around to look at her, “If you're ready, we can go right now...?” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him, slightly in deep thought.
“Can you give me some time to prepare something? I want to bring something to them when we visit.” [y/n] says softly and Lucifer sighed but gave her a gentle toothy smile.
“Alright.”
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[Y/n] decided to use Lucifer's kitchen, the king of hell watching her as he leans against the door frame, admiring her figure as she puts on an apron. [Y/n] approaches him, turning around for her back to face him. The ties of the apron are still not tied.
Lucifer smiled and his hand gently worked with the ties of the apron, tying it securely. “I missed eating your cookies, I remember you used to bake me duck shaped cookies.” he says, nostalgia evident in his voice.
[Y/n] chuckles softly, remembering the memories. “Indeed, you often helped me when I baked.” she says and he smiled, turning around as he too wore an apron, [y/n] tying the ties of the apron.
With a flick of his fingers, Lucifer summoned the ingredients they needed. [Y/n]'s eyes sparkled in awe as she sees the ingredients now on the counter.
The two fallen angels began working on the sweets they planned on making, moving around the pristine kitchen. Working together side by side. Lucifer was tasked with whisking the dry ingredients with the wet ingredients. [Y/n] behind him, looming over his smaller body, her hand on his waist while her other hand held his hand that was holding the whisk. Guiding him on how to whisk it.
‘Goodness, she's so close.’ Lucifer thought nervously. His ears felt unbelievably warm.
“Just like that, good.” she murmurs, against his ears. Oh god, he feels like he's about to pass out.
Suddenly he's very hyper aware. He could feel the softness of her skin against his, her hair occasionally caressing his neck as she leans on his shoulder. The hand on his waist, the hand on his waist, the hand on hIS WAIST. Suddenly he could feel how hot his body was, his heart beating so erratically against his ribcage.
“Lu? Are you okay? You seem spaced out...” [y/n] says worriedly as she noticed the man seemed to freeze while whisking.
[Y/n]'s facial expression softens, admiring the man in front of her. He still looked beautiful as the day she lost him.
Removing her hand from his wrist, that hand gently cupped his cheek. Breaking him out of his thoughts, jumping slightly.
“Jesus... You surprised me.” He sighs, placing a hand over his chest to calm his fast beating heart. The golden organ beating against his ribcage.
[Y/n]'s eyes soften, “You spaced out for a second, I got worried.” she says softly, brushing away the strands of blond hair away from his face that was beginning to fall into his face.
“Are you okay?” she asked him worriedly and he gave her a gentle smile, nodding.
“I am alright, I was just... Thinking...” he answers, voice gentle. He wouldn't tell her that he was thinking about her. How he was basically thinking about her touch.
“If you say so...” she says hesitantly and they eventually return to baking.
They just made the classic chocolate cookies and also baked an apple pie.
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They arranged the cookies and placed them into two rectangular boxes, they made enough for the hotel crew. [Y/n] carefully placed the apple pie on the cake container, allowing it to cool down first.
The two decided to change into a cleaner set of clothes as the ones they were wearing were dirtied when they were baking.
Lucifer gifted her clothes of course, she has her own room, a few doors away from his.
[Y/n] decided to wear a cute dress that was on her wardrobe, slipping it over her body. Applying some light makeup on her face. Grabbing a brush, her hand gently moving as she began to brush her hair.
After changing and meeting up in the living room, the two fallen angels didn't notice that they accidentally matched color schemes with their outfits.
Lucifer wore his usual white suit with red accents while [y/n] wore a white with red accents short dress that reaches her knees.
[Y/n] decided to carry the two boxes of cookies they've made, though, Lucifer wanted to be the one to carry it but the woman insisted as he would be the one to teleport them to the hotel.
Lucifer sighs but gives her an understanding smile, placing his arm behind her back and allowing his hand to rest on her waist. The action caught the woman off guard as she could feel heat creeping up to her cheeks.
Lucifer didn't notice how that simple action could fluster her so much, he thought it was nothing as he only wanted to make sure she teleports with him.
With a snap of his fingers, sparkling red smoke covered their bodies. The scenery of the palace's living room morphs as they teleport, now, they're in front of the Hazbin Hotel front doors.
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Charlie was just discussing with the gang about what they're planning to do once Adam and the exorcists will come. Their attention was diverted as knocks were heard on the doors of the hotel.
“Oooh new guests?” Angel Dust says with a smirk, lying on his stomach as he lies on the couch, taking up the entire space.
Alastor was just grinning as he sat on the cushioned chair, Niffty sitting on his shoulders and playing with his hair.
Vaggie was sitting at the bar area with Husk still bartending. Sir Pentious was sitting with them too. The egg boys are just walking around.
Charlie's eyes sparkled, walking to the front door. Opening it to see her dad and... [Y/n]...?!
“Charlieee!” Lucifer greeted as he immediately hugged the girl, [y/n] laughing softly behind them.
Angel Dust looked at Husk, wondering if he saw the same thing as him.
The two fallen angels looked like they were matching outfits. Angel Dust gave them a smirk, in which the two fallen angels were confused why.
“Dad?! I didn't know you were going to visit? And Miss [y/n] I am glad to see you again.” Charlie smiled and approached the woman in which the older woman hugged the girl.
“[y/n] here wanted to visit and I thought why not? Also, we brought cookies! We baked them!” Lucifer says proudly, a grin on his face. [Y/n] laughs softly as she hands the two boxes to Charlie, in which the girl excitedly and happily accepts. “Really? Thank you so much!” Charlie says excitedly.
Charlie gave the two fallen angels a look before giving her dad a knowing smirk, Lucifer was confused.
The two fallen angels looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what that was about. The two eventually went inside the hotel, closing the doors behind them.
[Y/n] was immediately pulled into the group, the hotel crew missing her. Lucifer smiles as he sits on the bar stool, admiring how she interacted with the others. No one is stupid, they can literally see the lovestruck look the King of Hell is giving the female fallen angel, they can literally see his dilated pupils. Charlie sat beside him, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
“What?” Lucifer deadpans, confused why his daughter is looking at him like that. Tearing his gaze away from his best friend.
Charlie nudges him, “You liked her don't you?” she teases him, Lucifer could feel his cheeks heat up once more.
“Me?! I think it's a little too early?” he says hesitantly and Charlie just gave him a raised eyebrow, clearly not believing him.
Husk scoffs behind the counter as he continues to wipe the glass, “Yeah, no one is believing that. We can literally see you giving her heart eyes and you two even looked like you guys are matching clothes.” Husk says nonchalantly and Lucifer had to double check his outfit and [y/n]'s.
They indeed looked like they were matching outfits.
Husk and Charlie could see the circles of Lucifer's cheeks redden even more. The king of hell was leaning his head against the counter, burying his face on his arm as he used it as a pillow, “It was a coincidence.” he explained and Husk just scoffs and chuckles.
“I think it's too early...” Lucifer murmurs, he doesn't want to admit it but he's scared of what Charlie will think. Will she think that he's replacing her mother?
Charlie's eyes soften, she places a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “You love her don't you? Long before I even existed and you still do and I think you shouldn't deny it dad. It's not healthy.” she murmurs softly and Lucifer sighs.
Charlie smiled softly at him, “If you're afraid of my opinion about this, I think you should go for it dad... I want you to be happy and Miss [y/n] seems to be a nice woman...” she says softly as she looks at the woman smiling with Sir Pentious and the egg boys as they ate the cookies that she and her dad brought. Charlie doesn't mind calling [y/n] her step mom. She already sees her like a mother figure already.
Lucifer's eyes softened, sparkling.
“You better shoot your shot, I think you're not the only one interested in her.” Husk says emotionlessly, gesturing behind Lucifer. The king of hell turned around and he could feel his eye twitch as Alastor gave him a smirk as the radio demon twirled the woman while she laughed.
Husk knows Alastor isn't interested, sure, the radio demon sees the woman more as a companion. He just needed to help this pathetic man they call a king to make a move.
Lucifer's sharp nails slightly graze the wooden counter in annoyance.
Charlie nudges him again, breaking his focus from the scene.
“Besides, I won't mind calling her mom. I won't replace my birth mother of course but Miss [y/n] is like a mom to me too. Allow yourself to be happy, dad.” Charlie says softly, smiling at her father.
Lucifer could feel himself get flustered at the idea. Him, Charlie, and [y/n] as a family. It doesn't sound so bad. It sounds amazing actually.
“Soon... I want to make sure that I am ready...” Lucifer says softly, his eyes looking at the woman who was happily conversing with a certain arachnid, chuckling softly as he notices her getting flustered. It might be because of what the arachnid has said to her.
Charlie smiled and nodded, “Take your time dad. You have all the time in the world.” she says softly and he nodded in agreement, “Indeed...”
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TAGLIST I: CLOSED
@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers
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ggrapeejuicee · 4 months
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„Just… Pretend.”
summary: in which harry convinces you to spend your summer in cape cod with his parents as his ‘girlfriend.’ but everything is just pretend, your not actually his girlfriend and you never have wanted to be his girlfriend, you’ve never seen him as more than harry styles, the singer… but by the end of the summer will that change?
tropes (so far) : fake dating
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part one
“It’s just for one weekend.” He pleaded, “Then you can go back to hating me. You never even have to talk to me again, I don’t care.”
You sigh, your head falling backwards with a groan. You did not want to do this at all, but he’d been persistently asking you for days.
“C’mon, please?”
You roll your eyes, “You’re on a date with a new girl every week, I’m sure any of them would be up for it.”
“I can’t just take anyone to my parent’s place.”
“Why not? Or how about you just tell them you’re not seeing anyone right now? They won’t care.”
“I just need you to come, alright? I’ll owe you one, I promise.”
“Why me? There’s a million other people you could take, besides I’ve already met your parents at a show, they’ll never believe we’re seeing each other.”
“And they really liked you!”
“There’ll be a ton of other people that they like too, Harry. Choose anyone else.”
“I can’t.” He sighs.
“You can.”
“I can’t.” He repeats.
You look at him with tired eyes, awaiting his explanation. You’d been over this a hundred times, you had no interest in pretending to be his girlfriend while he visited his parents over the summer.
“I already told them we’re together.” He says quietly, avoiding eye contact.
“What?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta be joking.”
“They just… They met you at the show, and they really did seem to like you, and they kept going on and on about how they want me to find someone who makes me happy and stuff and I shut them up by saying we’re together…”
“You’re unbelievable.” You say, annoyed.!
The fact he’d been telling his parents ridiculous lies without even telling you about it, when said lies actually involved you had pissed you off.
Harry’s parents were lovely, and a producer on his latest album you’d met them a couple times at shows- Especially during the LA residence where you and his parents sat through the concerts in a VIP booth. His mum was lovely, always smiling and knew every single lyric. She told you that she was in Harry’s 0.5% of top listeners on Spotify last year.
You thought that was cute.

You couldn’t relate though, 5 Seconds of Summer were your top Spotify artist- Harry could never find out about that.
“They’ve been asking for me to take you to the beach house for months-“
“Months?!” You interrupt, “How long have you been telling them we’re together?”
He shrugged, “Since the end of the Forum residency?”
“Harry that was SIX months ago!” You yell, “I can’t pretend to be in a six month relationship with you, that’s ridiculous.”
He sits down on the couch, hugging a pillow.
“Yes you can. You practically know everything about me already. We spent every day of the tour together.”
“Everything about you in a career aspect.”
“Everything in general.” Harry corrects, “Sometimes I think you know more about me than I do.”
“I don’t. You’re just saying this because you’re convincing yourself that this ridiculous idea will actually work.”
“Name my first pet.”
“What?” You question. He was being stupid. There is no way you’d ever be able to spend two weeks with his parents over the summer, it was never going to work. It was a recipe for disaster.
“C’mon. You know the answer.”
He just kept staring at you. He wasn’t giving up. The longer you stayed silent the more intense his stare got. When he began to raise his eyebrows you’d given up.
“Max.” You mutter quietly, unimpressed with this whole game he was playing.
“And what am I allergic to?”
“Marshmallows, but you eat them anyway.”
Harry was grinning, and it was pissing you off. He was winning and he knew it.
“My favourite Christmas song?”
You rolled your eyes, “Christmas lights by Coldplay, but you tell everyone that it’s Merry Christmas Everyone because it’s a classic.”
Harry was giving you a ‘I told you so’ look. He wasn’t going to quit until you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend.
You sigh softly, “Even if I agree to this… It could he really damaging for my career.”
“No one will find out.” His face was more serious now, and you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he meant it, “I’ll make sure of that.”
“But if if does-”
“It won’t.”
“But if it does, because there’s always a chance no matter what you think, then everyone will only think I got hired to tour manage because we’re ‘sleeping together.’” You say, using air quotes, just to further elaborate that this was all fake.
Harry had already got his grammy, he was at the peak of his career he’d be fine no matter what happened. But you were a female music producer in a male dominated industry, if people think you were only hired for this album because you’re fucking the singer- your career was over.
“If people find out I’ll kill you.”
“Does this mean you’re gonna agree?”
You nod, reluctantly.
“Thank you!” He jumps out of his chair, “I swear I’ll make it up to you, thank you so much.”
— — —
If you were in Harry’s position you’d be vigilant of everything, everyone, everywhere. You’d be paranoid of someone jumping through your bedroom window while you were asleep. But Harry was oddly calm. Maybe he was just like that. His lips were formed almost in a smile while he slept, and his eyes were moving under his eyelids- probably from a dream he was having. He wasn’t calm very often- recently he’d been very on edge and anxious about everything, it was nice to see him look so peaceful. You hoped for that sort of peace someday soon.
You had been in the studio going on six hours, and when he’d taken a break from recording so you could go over the tracks he’d managed to fall asleep in that short period of time.
You let him sleep while you packed up the equipment, putting things back into their assigned places, and didn’t bother waking him up until you were 100% ready to go.
“Harry,” You said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Harry we gotta go.”
His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to adjust himself to the light.
“Huh?”
“We only had the studio booked until six, we gotta go.”
“Oh,” He sat up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck that had went into a cramp, “Sorry, don’t even remember falling asleep to be honest.”
“Don’t worry about it,” You shrug, “We got enough done today anyways. You deserve a rest.”
There were only three days left until the day Harry had said you were leaving for his parents place, and you had skipped over the subject every time he’d tried to bring it up. You didn’t really want to think about it because you were dreading it so badly.
“I’ll give you a ride home.” Harry said as you left the studio building.
“No, it’s alright.” You say, “I’ll just get an Uber.”
Harry glared at you, “Y/N, just get in the car.”
You glare back. But it had been a long day so getting a free lift wasn’t so bad.
“So.” He said, starting the car. “We gotta go over some things.”
“About the album?” You play dumb.
“… No.” He rolls his eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“Love, you gotta tell me some stuff about you. My parents are gonna ask me shit and I don’t have a clue what to tell them.”
You groan. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got an Uber.
“Like what.”
He shrugs, “What’s your favourite colour?”
“Purple.” You reply.
“Mines is blue.”
“I know,” You reply.
“What’s your favourite song?” He asked.
You laughed to yourself a little.
“Jet black heart,” You grin, knowing you’d get some sort of reaction out of this answer, “By 5 Seconds of Summer.”
“5 Seconds of Summer?” Harry scoffs, “They’re punks!”
You roll their eyes, “They turned to pop music and half of them are married, they’re hardly punks.”
“You know one of them dated my sister, right?” Harry groaned.
“Yep,” You grin, “And wrote a banging tune about it as well.”
“Don’t remind me.” He muttered.
“Look, you asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. You can’t complain.”
“I know, I know.” Harry said, “You got any exes?”
You raise your eyebrows, “What?”
“This is the kind of stuff I need to know! Like I dunno if I’m your first boyfriend and all that.”
“Harry… I’m 24 years old. You’re not my first boyfriend.”
You said it almost as if he was your boyfriend. It sent a chill down your spine. This was going to be a long few weeks.
“Good to know.” He said.
He dropped you off outside your apartment.
“I guess the next time I see you will be for when we’re leaving, yeah?”
You nod. There was no studio session booked until after his vacation to Cape Cod, where his families beach house was, so he was right. The next time you see him would be at the airport.
“Flights at seven.” He says.
“Got it.”
The next few weeks were going to be hell.
part two coming soon…
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lewmagoo · 2 months
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six summers | bob floyd
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description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?
characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs
warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety
series status: ongoing
listen to the playlist here!
this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied
*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way
July 30th, 1980
1:15 am
All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea. 
“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.
“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.
“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!” 
Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”
May 18th, 1986
10:30 am
“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail. 
“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice. 
Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”
Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.
“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal. 
Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 
“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.
“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.
“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”
You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”
“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail. 
“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits. 
Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”
“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”
Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”
With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.
And then, “holy shit.”
“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow. 
“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered. 
At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”
“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”
I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!
Best wishes, 
Penny Mitchell
You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part. 
The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.
“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it. 
As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face. 
Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”
“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”
Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend. 
You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”
The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”
Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”
“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go. 
Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there. 
You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held. 
Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have. 
You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms. 
Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin. 
July 1980
She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer. 
So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate. 
Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer. 
She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures. 
That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace. 
Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.
You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present. 
To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you. 
It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together. 
It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval. 
“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”
“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked. 
Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”
You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted. 
“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”
“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”
After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.
“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.
“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do. 
“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”
Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound. 
Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.
You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door. 
Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts. 
Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.
“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”
“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”
“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.
“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”
“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”
But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”
You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.
“O-okay. We can look together, then.”
And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first. 
You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either. 
These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case. 
You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.
Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”
But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands. 
Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”
You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight. 
“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”
Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa. 
Something was wrong. You knew it. 
And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.
Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too. 
Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.
And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?
And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?
One Week Later
A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.
“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off. 
You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied. 
“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”
You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”
“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you. 
You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her. 
“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.
She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”
The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself. 
As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.
You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.
“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”
And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day. 
He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out. 
But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.
Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–
With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.
But they made you warm with shame nonetheless. 
You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby. 
You wondered if he thought about you, too.
More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies. 
You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love. 
But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past. 
Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him. 
Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were. 
The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation. 
Until now. 
What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 
But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself. 
As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone? 
Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP. 
With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters. 
You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new. 
As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump. 
“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed. 
You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own. 
You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. 
But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?” 
You squeezed your eyes shut. 
Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”
And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck. 
Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth. 
It sent a burning ache through your chest. 
“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years. 
He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.” 
You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered. 
He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”
You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”
“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t. 
But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all. 
“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”
He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”
You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”
You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. 
He looked like a man. 
But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten. 
“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern. 
You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”
He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”
The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him. 
Six Years Ago
The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting. 
The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour. 
As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat. 
For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning. 
You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 
“Bobby—”
“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”
“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”
Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp. 
The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.
Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage. 
“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm. 
But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.
He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”
You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk. 
“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.
Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”
You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.
So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.
But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.
May 1986
Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.
But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to. 
You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”
“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago. 
Everything had come full circle.
Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now. 
The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.
“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it. 
“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”
He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”
“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”
“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”
It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.
“Did everyone come back this year?”
He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”
You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”
Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”
You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”
“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”
“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance. 
“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”
But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms. 
You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once. 
You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?
You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from. 
As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand. 
The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time. 
The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp. 
And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.
You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway. 
“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”
“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response. 
Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.
“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”
“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.
Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”
“Sure thing,” he replied.
“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”
Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”
She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt. 
As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.
You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”
“You need a minute?”
“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”
With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.
It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once. 
This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.
Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.
“You’ve still got ‘em.”
Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“The bracelets I made you.”
Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”
He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.
All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.
Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”
You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.
“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”
“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”
You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”
Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”
“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”
He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.
You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all. 
There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it. 
“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.
Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”
You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”
“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.
“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.
He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”
Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside. 
Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall. 
Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again. 
The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little. 
He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” you said with a nod.
Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.
So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated. 
“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”
You liked the sound of that. 
So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room. 
It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.
You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.
Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.
Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.
Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same. 
Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.
All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.
“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley. 
You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.
Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back. 
The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you. 
“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.
Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”
“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.
“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room. 
The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine. 
“Really?” Natasha piped up.
Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”
Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”
He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.” 
“What’s that?” The woman asked.
Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.
That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting. 
Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare. 
“I-I just thought that–”
“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”
“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”
“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?
“No, but–”
“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”
Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come. 
But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man. 
“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”
The room went dead silent.
Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”
“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.
But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.
You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”
With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.
You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.
“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.
“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!” 
It was Bob, you realized. 
“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”
“No.”
“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”
“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”
“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”
He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”
And then, silence.
“Oh.” 
He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”
“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”
“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”
“What?” Jake asked, incredulous. 
“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”
The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”
And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff. 
He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you. 
“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”
“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod. 
“Good.” 
And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.
You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”
You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”
“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”
“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”
He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”
You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”
“Want me to walk you back?”
“I’d like that.”
With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might. 
It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.
Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you. 
But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.
So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor. 
His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands. 
“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.
“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”
He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”
“You sure?”
“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”
You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”
You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”
He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”
You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well. 
With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.
What had you gotten yourself into?
to be continued...
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taglist (tagging those who showed interest; if you want to be added let me know)
@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8
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eddiernunson · 9 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18 +
Previous Part | Master List | Next Part
Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing and spit balling ideas and giving feedback.
Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spit balling ideas and fueling my ego &lt;3
I have no idea where this story or be without either of you girls. Or me, for that matter.
Word count: 16.6k
Warnings: Degradation/praise, light use of sir without any discussion, light hunter/prey play, crying while fucking (eddie), and a whole steddie story at the start. Lots of talk of their future in this part.
Author's note: When I say I am blown away by the reception of this fanfic, wholeheartedly mean it. Any word of kindness you have given just fueled the fire in me. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and exploring where the story will take us.
Due to some worry in the comments from last part I will clear this up: Neither Eddie nor Reader will be cheating, they're it for one another. Steve is here as a long time friend, someone with a wife and kids at home.
That being said, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.
edit: somehow the first paragraph was missing? all fixed.
About 26/27 Years Ago:
At the failure of both their university careers, Steve and Eddie both dropped out within weeks of one another. This was unplanned, neither one of them knowing as they went back to Hawkins to a mini reunion. They agreed to meet one another for a drink, just the two of them, where Steve kindly asked how Eddie’s schooling was going, to which Eddie answered sheepishly that he had dropped out. Steve let out a bark of laughter, laughing through his response that he had also dropped out.
The mutual sigh of relief waved over them both, the two of them grateful they wouldn’t be receiving that same damn look of pity again. Their conversation then flowed into ease; the embarrassment was no longer there for either of them. Since they both dropped out, they each had found a dead-end job to make their ends meet while they figured out their next move.
Simply, they were at the exact same spot in life. This would be reoccurring for them over the next few years, finding their wives within the same six-month span, and both Arlo and Dylan being born within a year of one another. It’s no wonder why they became so close.
Steve had a crazy idea in their third hour in the bar booth, a little bit buzzed. “Dude. We should go to Vegas.”
Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, completely thrown off by the suggestion. “What?”
“C’mon, Vegas! Our jobs both suck, and we’re the only ones who actually understand each-other’s shituations.”
Eddie sighed and took another sip of his beer. “Fuck it, let’s go.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“When?”
“Now!”
Eddie nearly spit out his beer, looking at Steve like he was crazy. “Now?”
“Dude. I still have my parents’ credit cards. They’re too lazy to actually cut me off.” Steve’s words were a bit slurred, holding up the many black cards.
Eddie downed his beer; the financials were his number one reason not to go. If this was gonna be on the Harrington’s dime, you best believe he would take full advantage of his friend’s shitty parents’ money.
Halfway through their first bus, Steve and Eddie started to sober up and wondered if it was a good idea. Too late, they were already four hours away. It took a total of 31 hours of driving on the road and about six different buses, but they finally made it to Nevada with nothing but the shirts on their backs and delirious glee.
The first two days they spent gambling and shooting the shit, both nights staring up at the bodies of women with numerous dollar bills in string thongs. (Eddie will omit this part when he tells it to you, for your own sanity’s sake.) On the third night, as Steve was a bit more drunk than the previous two, Eddie found a strong ass strain of weed on the strip and was a bit stoned. One of them managed to convince the other that finding girls to hook up with was the good idea.
They both went on with their night, keeping an eye out for any girl they could prospect. Even with a few conversations with some girls, they both came up short. Hooking up with women who were also running away from their problems was a bad idea.
Steve found a girl, but soon realized she was a dud when she made fun of Eddie’s bandana wrapped around his head. Eddie came up to Steve as she rolled her eyes and stomped off. Jesus. As he rested on the bar, he noticed something he wondered if he had imagined the whole three days they were there. Eddie’s eyes lingered on him, checking him out not-so-subtly. Steve leered on Eddie’s soft pink lips for too long for Steve to confidently tell himself he was not interested. His eyes raked down Eddie, taking in everything, subconsciously licking his lips. Having these thoughts, he realized Eddie was talking to him the entire time and he didn’t take in a single word.
“Well, that was a bust. C’mon. Let’s go get our sleep, we’re spending the next two days bussing home.” Steve yanked Eddie by the sleeve of the gift shop shirt he got up to the hotel elevator.
Eddie wandered into the bathroom when they got to their room and when he came out, he saw Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, legs out and leant back on straight arms. Eddie chuckled nervously. As dorky as it was, Steve looked fantastic in the makeshift gift shop outfit he had gotten himself.
“Steve?” He asked, hesitantly walking towards him.
An uncontrollable huff of laughter left Steve’s mouth, he stood up to face Eddie, accidentally meeting him only inches away from his face. It was a flicker. Only a flicker. A flicker of Eddie’s eyes looking directly to Steve’s lips, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You know, Eddie. If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide, the panic in his face was clear. “I-I…” He stuttered, his breathing picked up exponentially in the last two minutes and the air in the hotel room was thick.
Steve gently placed one hand on Eddie’s cheek bone, slowly caressing it as to calm the nerves he could tell were radiating off Eddie. He smiled, glancing down very obviously to Eddie’s mouth to ask for permission. Eddie nodded the tiniest goddamn nod in the world and nearly blacked out when Steve’s lips came rushing for his own.
When their lips met, Eddie moaned into it, moving to someone’s bed, he couldn’t tell nor did he care which, and let Steve fall on top of him.
The kisses were messy, clothes were thrown all over the hotel room, and the sex was rough and giggly, but desperate.
And only one time, they decided as they woke up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing at the sheer absurdity that filled the air as they were both wrapped in white sheets.
-
“Uh, Eddie? It’s for you… his name is Steve Harrington?” Eddie pauses, in the middle of hanging a sweater in what seems to be the designated spot for knitwear. A quick assessment tells you that you now have more sweaters than you need, observing them all hung delicately by his hands.
“No way.” Eddie mutters, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. He jogs right past you to the hallway and down the stairs, the quick thumping of his feet loud in the silence of the house.
Your brain takes a moment to catch up to you, following Eddie’s lead back down the stairs. As the front entrance comes into view halfway down the stairs, you see the two men wrapped up in a genuine embrace, arms flexed as they hug one another. They separate, but not by much, maintaining only a few feet between them.
“You didn’t tell me when you were coming!” Eddie accuses playfully, patting Steve on his shoulder.
Steve’s hands are on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I ended up coming 2 weeks early.”
“No shit, hey?” Eddie leans back, crossing his arms.
They fall into a conversation so easily that their comfort with one another radiates off them. You would be offended Eddie hasn’t introduced you to him yet if it weren’t for their entertaining back and forth with one another.
“How long have you two known each other?” You mistakenly interrupt them, cutting off the conversation.
“Uh, since high school.” Eddie answers, elbowing Steve.
Steve’s eyes widen deliriously, jerking back at the neck. “Uh, try Jr. High.” He laughs. “Eddie here was the new kid.” He seems to laugh at the memory of young Eddie. Man, you’ll need photographic proof. “The weird-o new kid.”
“Oh, sorry my mom abandoned me, Steve.” Eddie laughs, not a lick of remorse behind it. You gulp, your heartstrings pulled at his throwaway comment.
“Abandonment issues can forgive weirdness only for so long, Eddie.”
“Yeah, but I got it renewed fifteen years ago. Didn’t even have to ask, she just did it for me.”
There’s a moment of silence until they break into laughter, poking fun at one another.
“I’m so sorry, who’s this?” Steve gestures to you, walking over to where you’re standing by the stairs.
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” You hold your hand out to him, somewhat nervous to be meeting someone who’s known Eddie for so long. Decades long before you were even born.
Steve’s hand meets yours and shakes it gracefully, his kind chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. “He paying you well?”  You’re not sure how to answer this, your hand still holding Steve’s as you and Eddie give another a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You must be Dylan’s girlfriend! Where is he off to, anyway?” Steve lets go of your hand.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember I told you I was seeing someone?” You smile to yourself under the mere indication that Eddie talked to someone about you.
Steve nods, remembering the life in Eddie’s voice when he called. “Yep.”
Eddie points to you, gesturing multiple times until Steve finally gets the hint. “Oh…oh. Oh!” Steve’s hands move back to his hips, his eyes switching back and forth between you and Eddie quickly. “But she’s a child.” Steve deadpans, pointing to you and furrowing his brows at Eddie.
Eddie chuckles, placing his arm around you as Steve takes it in. You’re slightly offended on your own behalf at the prospect of being called a child. Eddie places a kiss on your temple to ease the tension, making you melt into it. “No, she’s not.”
You tilt your head back at Eddie, giving him a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. He kisses you as if to put the final nail in the coffin in any disbelief Steve might’ve had. You breathe deeply as he pulls away, and goddamn, did you have a long day today.
“Wait until Robin hears you’re dating someone half your age.” Steve muses, shaking his head. “She’s gonna have a field day.”
“Wait till she hears we’re already shacked up.” Eddie jokes, bringing you to the couch and therefore leading Steve as well.
As you sit down on the couch, you cuddle into him, head laying down on his chest. Steve asks how his shop is doing, to which Eddie gives the run down on the nicest cars he’s seen and a customer’s hunk of junk he couldn’t believe was still driving around. Steve explains the logistics of his job, and by the tone of Eddie’s voice, you could tell he had no idea any of what Steve was saying, but he was being supportive in tone, nonetheless.
“How are the kids?” Eddie asks, and you watch as Steve’s eyes light up in response.
“Oh, they’re great.”
“How old are they?” You ask, a tad curious.
“Uh, Arlo is 24, Nick is 17, Dustin is 15, and Eliza is 4.” Steve riles off, letting his head fall back on the couch. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a dad of four.
“Is Eliza 4 already?” Eddie asks, shaking his head.
“Sure is.” Steve answers, bringing out his phone. He unlocks it, and presumably goes into his photos until passing it over to you and Eddie. “Here. This was from yesterday.”
“Awww.” You let out, seeing the image of a little girl with Steve’s curls playing on a water mat.
“Oh, aww” Eddie lets out, laughing through it. Eliza is adorable, that much is clear. But as you look up at Eddie scrolling through a few of the photos of Eliza playing in the water, the hearts in his eyes are undeniable. He laughs softly at them, as if he can’t get enough of any of the photos. As Eddie passes the photos with his praises of Eliza, a stirring gut feeling sits there, a feeling you’ve been proud that you’ve been able to hold off with Eddie already having a grown child.
Goddamn, you wanted to have this man’s babies. Or at least, baby. The idea of him looking this sweetly at a child you made together invades your heart and makes you squirm on his chest a bit. You lean off his chest, afraid of these strong feelings of wanting this much of a future with him; it was a little scary. “I’m sleepy. Been a long day, I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“Alright, here.” He gets up with you, taking your hand and walking you around the couch. “Be right back, Steve.”
Eddie goes up the stairs to your room, escorting you to your now shared bed. Last week it had dark grey sheets. Now it has your favourite yellow daisy-themed sheets that Eddie insisted upon using. You lie down, still thinking of the way his eyes lit up and the smile that took over his face from the pictures. It made something stir in you. You were exhausted from your long day, that was no lie, but needed the excuse to leave before you did something crazy.
Like riding him on the couch. (And begging for his babies)
“Have a good sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” He kisses your forehead, soft and sweet. “Love you.”
“Love you.” You mutter through your breath, eyes already closing.
-
You’re already fast asleep by the time Eddie closes the door. As he reaches the bottom of the steps, Steve looks up at him expectantly, his brow slightly furrowed. He’s concerned, and to be fair, he has a reason to be. “So, we’re dating 20-year-olds, now?”
Eddie bites his tongue from correcting your age. “I guess you could say that.”
“What is this, some sort of midlife crisis? Get a red sports car, not someone who beats my oldest by months, hell your kid by months. I mean, come on, man. Use your brain.” Steve taps his shoulder on the last sentence, surely thinking he’s putting Eddie’s head back on right. However, Eddie just sits through the lecture without defending himself so he can say his piece when the time comes. “I-I mean where did you even find her, on her way to school?”
The front door slams. Dylan’s home. “Dad, am I tripping or is Uncle Steve’s car out front—Hey!” He cuts himself off, jogging toward them as soon as he sees Steve on the couch. Steve stands up to give him a tight hug, having known Dylan since the day he was born. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came by for a visit, turns out your dad’s having a midlife crisis.”
Dylan’s brows pinch together as he glances around Steve to Eddie for clarification. Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to know a single thing Steve was talking about. “What, did he get a sports car or something? He says they look pretty but they’re not made to last.”
“No, no. I was talking about his pretty new girlfriend.” The pang of possessiveness that hits Eddie in the chest is unprecedented for Steve just calling you pretty.
Dylan hardly holds in his laughter, walking into the kitchen before a full-on laugh escapes his throat. Steve stares off at him, glancing at Eddie and clearly asking, what the hell is wrong with that boy? Dylan makes himself calm down, coming back into the living room with a shit eating grin on his face. “So did he tell you how they met?”
“N-no.” Steve hesitates based on the grin on his face.
“He hasn’t let me get that far, yet.” Eddie chimes in, looking a little cozy as he settles into the couch. You were right, it has been a long ass day.
“I’m gonna tell him.” It wasn’t a threat per se, Dylan just wanted to watch the panic in his dad’s eyes.
Eddie lifts his head off the back pillow of the couch, having been looking up at the ceiling. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I was just gonna wait until she woke up.”
“Tell me…what?” Steve asks, tired of watching Eddie and Dylan’s back and forth.
Dylan gives one last chuckle, the laughter telling Eddie it’s not something he’s very bitter about anymore. They still haven’t talked about it; he’s been waiting for Dylan to come to him. “She was my girlfriend, first.” Dylan says through a smirk. “She cheated on me. With dad.”
Steve processes it, both Dylan and Eddie can see the hamster wheel turning in his head. He looks back and forth between Dylan and Eddie, his eyes staying on either one for a moment. His eyes don’t blink the entire time, switching back and forth for a solid minute.
“Dude!” Steve finally says, landing on Eddie. “What the fuck happened, Ed?”
Dylan continues laughing, walking over to his dad. “Yeah dad, what happened?”
Eddie lets his head fall back on the pillows again, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Well, I tried to keep my distance…she did not.” Shit, that’s putting all the blame on you. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell her to break up with Dylan, first. Felt like I was seventeen years old, hormones just raging to a point where I couldn’t think straight with her right there.” He gets up from the couch, walking up to his closest friend of 30+ years. “She’s not just some 25-year-old, Steve. This girl, Steve, she’s everything, and somehow, she’s convinced that she’s the lucky one.”
When his dad spews cheesy shit like this it certainly softens the blow. Feels funny that he ever dated you in the first place at times.
Steve seems to miss the fact that Dylan has gotten almost completely over it by now. “That’s all good and nice, but I think you’re missing the fact that you stole your son’s girlfriend?”
Dylan lets out another laugh, wishing Steve was here when everything went down. That would’ve been a show. “Listen, Uncle Steve. I appreciate you standing up for me, truly, I do. If you were here three weeks ago when they fucked in my truck, then that would’ve been…just great.”
“You fucked in his tru—”
Dylan cuts him off, “But honestly, I didn’t date her for very long. If anything, I had only begun to develop some deeper feelings for her, but these two had it right away. They’re good together. I wish they could’ve just told me their feelings and then slept together, but with Maya…if she was dating one of my boys I would’ve done the same thing.”
Steve’s hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, seeing the truth in his statement. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about Maya, then.” He turns back to Eddie, a pinch appearing back between his brows. “But seriously, you fucked in his truck? What kind of sicko are you?”
“His was unlocked. He knows better.” Eddie shrugs, Steve rolls his eyes fondly.
“Good god, man.”
“I was actually just here to grab something, but I’ll see you for supper?” Dylan shoots, mid stride towards the stairs.
“We’re eating out, be back by 8:30.” Steve calls up, and Dylan waves his hand in acknowledgement.
“We are?” Eddie asks, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh yeah, Munson.” He sits on the cushion beside him, leaning onto his knees. “But tell me about her. Sorry I just assumed…but Robin will absolutely be calling you to rip your head off.”
“Or…she can find out in person one day.”
“Like at your wedding?” Steve teases, but lets out a burst of laughter when the blush appears on his cheeks. “Seriously, you hear wedding bells?”
“I’m not getting any younger, dude. But my hormones are, man, she has me doing multiple rounds, sometimes more than one a day!” Steve’s eyes widen, intrigued by this. “I haven’t fucked like this since my 20s.” Eddie pauses, thinking about his sex life back then. “I’m not even sure I fucked like this in my 20’s, to be honest.”
Steve lets out a laugh, shoving Eddie for good measure. Of course, being men, they both skip over the fact that yes, Eddie has had wedding bells in his head enough to start looking at rings…and go for the sex talk.
“Okay, sex aside. Tell me about her.”
It takes only five minutes of Steve listening to Eddie ramble on about you to realize it absolutely was the real deal. No mid-life crises here. Eddie seemed calm and laxed, whereas his ex always made him wired. For the record, Steve never quite liked her. She had Eddie looking like a wet chihuahua, yapping at every drop of a hat. Steve was a little relieved when she left, ‘cause no one could convince Eddie she was not good for him.
Turns out he just needed to wait a few years. 15, in fact.
-
You wake up to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek, carefully petting you as he places gentle kisses on your lips. “Baby.” He mumbles, causing you to stir. “Baby, wake up.”
As you start to wake up, you become increasingly aware that he was lying right behind you. “Mmm.”
“C’mon, we’re going out for supper with Steve, you have to get up.”  
Still reeling from the dream that you were just ripped out of, you arch your back slightly, grinding your ass against Eddie’s instantly-hardening cock. You hear a sharp inhale, Eddie’s grip on your hip intensifying. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we literally don’t have time.” Eddie comments, his forehead falling onto the back of your head in an act of self discipline.
You frown, giving a good hip swivel. “We always have time.”
“Not today, you don’t! Get up!” You pop awake, aware of Steve’s presence in the hallway as he overshadows Eddie, waking you up more fully.
“He knows me enough to know I’d try to sneak something in.” Eddie murmurs, as not to be heard.
You turn around in your bed, now lying face to face with him, a devious smile creeping on your face. “So, sneak something in.”
Eddie’s brows lift at your suggestive tone. “Fuck.” He mutters, crawling out of bed before you could give his neck one of those licks that just melts him into a puddle. “C’mon baby. Get all dressed up, meet you downstairs by 8:30.”
Your teeth grit together, grabbing your phone that was tossed haphazardly aside when you fell asleep. The screen illuminates itself and your eyes widen when you realize you only have…fifteen minutes to get ready. Well, why didn’t he just say that?
You rush into your closet, and for the first time, the amount of clothes you now own settles in. How the fuck are you ever getting ready ever again? You go to the dresses, skimming through the more family friendly options. You trail  over each hanger one at a time until you reach the right one. Some light makeup is done, a five-minute routine.
You finally reach the bottom step at 8:29 pm, all the guys sitting on the couch watching the tv. “Ready!”
Eddie glances at you and breaks into a smirk. “You look great, sweetheart.”
Your face heats up as you find a pair of shoes that won’t make you hate yourself. You smile, recalling your afternoon in the crowded dressing room. “Thanks, Ed.”
Meanwhile, Steve takes only two seconds as he witnesses this interaction to realize. “No. Go change.”
“W-what?” You stutter, not used to Steve’s blunt stature.
“I-just-just go change. I don’t need to be watching this all night!”
“Fine.” You roll your eyes, kicking your shoe off to put on a dress that Eddie didn’t salivate over that very afternoon.
“Wait, what? What was wrong with the dress?” Dylan asks Steve, not having a clue as to what just transpired.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
“Hey, Dyl, you remember that green little dress that she had?” Eddie asks, recalling it on his carpeted floor earlier that day before he burned it.
Dylan smiles, then recalls what was so special about the dress. “Oh.” He mumbles, now feeling uncomfortable.
“I think she’s overwhelmed with choices, which is why she picked the dress in the first place. I’ll go help. Meet you there.”
-
Steve put up a fight on just meeting you there, but one on one time with his boy is something he wouldn’t pass up. Especially when he talks about a girl the way he did about Maya.
Eddie didn’t give Steve much of an option, still trying to get rid of the hard on that he had. He bursts through the bedroom and closet door, and as he does so, the front door slams shut. Eddie walks in to you staring aimlessly in your underwear at the dresses, not knowing which one to put on. Eddie comes from behind you, placing his stubbly chin onto your shoulder. “What’s up, baby?” He asks, casually drifting your underwear down your legs.  
You sigh, the trail of his fingertips sending shivers up your spine. “You got me too many dresses.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie says, you hear and feel behind you as he lets his own pants drop. “Bend a little bit.” He whispers as you feel his hard cock against your ass.
You do, lifting your ass up at an angle where he can slide right into your folds. He does, arms drifting below your torso and up to play with your tits as he fucks you from behind.
“I got the perfect amount for my sweet baby.” He mutters into your ear, both his hands doing things to your tits that make you whimper. “Love to spoil my beautiful girl.”
“Fuck, daddy.” You whine, your heat already so goddamn hot. “Help. Can’t decide on a dress.”
“Here.” Ed pauses, causing you to whine, but puts a dress in front of you. “Wear this one for daddy.”
“O-ok.” You stutter, barely paying attention to it. “Love you, daddy.”
“I love you,” he kisses your neck, wet and sweet, “so much, pretty baby.” You turn your head to face him, leaning in for a delicate kiss, your pussy clenching around him as you do.
You lean onto the white walls separating each compartment of the closet, closing your eyes as he fucks into you. “Daddy,” you whine, and he pulls your hair gently in response, bringing your head back to his.
“Yes, baby?”
“You’re so good to me, I’m so-so close.” You pant, giving him lustful eyes.
“Cum with me,” Eddie mutters, having been close himself a few times. He leans down, rubbing at your clit. You cum around him hard, yelling his name.
He catches your lips in a kiss when he cums, so you have no idea what he said.
He lets you catch your breath, wrapping his arms around you protectively until you let him know you’re okay. “Thank you, baby.”
“Oh that was just a spur of the moment, I just got lucky.” He jokes, bringing up the dress to you to get redressed.
“You think Steve—”
“Oh, I guarantee Steve already knows.” Eddie interrupts your worry, that Steve knew you were hooking up. “Just had to be sneaky.”
You put yourself in the dress, staring at it in the mirror. Okay, Eddie is seriously good at picking things that fit you well. Damn. “Let’s go baby.”
“Fuck, with you in that dress I’ll be gunning for round two all night.”
“Then we better go so we can come back and do it!” You assert playfully.
“Fuck, I love you.”
-
As you and Eddie sit down at the table where your ice cubes are already melted with the water droplets making a pool on the table, Steve doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives says enough. If he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, how come he already has the ability to make you feel like you had disappointed him?
The restaurant is a steakhouse, something worth dressing up for, but not like the one Eddie took you to. Steve managed to talk about all his kids, describing each one of the four and their distinct personalities to you.
Arlo is apparently a near carbon copy of his father, only differing on a few personality quirks here and there. He was in every sense of the word the eldest Harrington, making a reputation for the Harrington children to live up to at the daycare, elementary school and finally, but most importantly, high school.  Considering Steve raised his kids in Hawkins, Arlo knew the expectations for him and met them, tenfold. Steve never says it, but you can tell he’s so proud of how cool his kid turned out to be. Apparently, though they were closest in age, Dylan was closer to Nicky than to Arlo.
Nicky was the middle child for most of his life. He still considers himself to be, despite getting a younger sister four years ago. He had found himself gravitating towards the arts, and Steve found himself with a kid who spent his early mornings watching broadway bootlegs and collecting song books. This turned him into somewhat of a ladies’ man like Arlo, his baritone vibrato beautifully toned as he starred in most of his school musicals. Someday, Arlo wants to enroll in a drama school, and Steve still isn’t sure how he feels about it.
Dustin is the third child, and for a while, the baby. It’s explained to you that Dustin is named after a mutual friend, someone younger than both Eddie and Steve, someone they took under their wing and mutually adopted. When Dustin’s name was announced, Steve and his wife made sure he was in the room, so for the first hour of Dustin Harrington’s life, he was unnamed. Tears streamed down Dustin’s, (the original), face when he realized that Steve had named his child after him. Immediately, Dustin was his. Because of Dustin Henderson, Dustin Harrington is a complete dork. He’s completely invested in Star Wars, has built his own Magic the Gathering deck, used to spend weekends on Skype for DnD sessions with Uncle Eddie, and has even been to a convention or two.
Basically, none of his boys were the same.
You resented little Eliza coming up in conversation, only for the sake of her photos enticing some sick and cruel twist of fate.
Eliza, however, is the apple of everyone’s eye, and the darling of the Harrington family. She’s a handful, to say the least, a stubborn personality and even worse temperament. Steve swears he thought her toddler years were a handful; until she reached the independent thinking stage. Now, she wants everything, but she never wants help. Her three brothers are fiercely protective of her, each in their own ways, on top of having her dad, her uncle Eddie, and a few names that aren’t familiar to you (note: ask Eddie who ‘Hopper’ is), she’s got the world wrapped around her pinky.
Steve is at the end of a tale of chasing little Eliza around the mall, having slipped his grip in a quick getaway, creating havoc as she clutched a teddy bear that wasn’t paid for. He laughs fondly, describing how she evaded three security guards attempting to aid Steve in his mission, finally catching her when she was hungry enough to decide to end the chase.
You all sit with your food in front of you, chuckling at Steve’s well-told story. “Man,” Eddie starts, mouth still full. He waits until he swallows to continue, “I don’t know if I could have a toddler now. Especially if they’re as wild as Dylan was.”
“Hey!” Dylan calls, gesturing to himself. “I’m right here!”
“No offense, kid, but you were a menace. I looked away for two seconds once and found you on the roof with an umbrella to see if it would work as a parachute.”
“You remember what you told me?” Dylan challenges him, leaning onto his elbows on the table. “Hmm? You tell her what you told me.”
You perk up, leaning into Eddie. “Well, I came out and asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to see if it worked.”
“And…you said?” Dylan asks, eager to get to the punchline.
“I told him to try it then and see how it works out for him!”
“So, I did!” Dylan exclaims, exasperated.
“What?” You exclaim, and the three men around you nod their heads solemnly, all having heard this story several times before.
“I didn’t know he was actually going to do it!” Eddie laughs, defending himself at your bug eyes aimed at him.
“You’re my dad, I trusted you had my best interests at heart!”
“How you didn’t know sarcasm before that is beyond me…” Eddie mutters, shaking his head fondly at his son. “That story was used against me several times in court, too.”
“They tried to make him out to be a terrible parent. I was pissed.” Dylan explains, and your heart melts over it. “I maintained that even though I had a cast for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn my lesson. Don’t jump off the roof. You will get hurt. That’s what my dad was telling me before he dared me.”
You intertwine your fingers with Eddie’s, smoothing his thumb with your own. There’s a nagging in the back of your mind as you recall his claims of being too old for a toddler, a slight disappointment. You shove it far, far back into your brain, not wanting to dissect that. “So, you staying the night, or?” You ask Steve.
“No thanks, Dylan has made it clear that you two are insatiable.” He says, toying with his food. “He has told me every story where he has caught you, even the ones you don’t know about.” He pauses, giving Eddie a resigned glance across the table. “Freaks. The both of you.”
Your phone buzzes on the table, and you reach for it momentarily to check out the text from Bethany. As your attention is stolen, Eddie mouths over you, Jealous? Steve spurts out a laugh, as if the idea is so absurd. Your head shoots up, Bethany’s text is fresh on your mind. “Baby, can…can I take a picture of your hand?”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie agrees, placing his hand out from your grip and onto the table. “What for?”
“For my Insta,” you answer, somewhat preoccupied by getting a good angle while making his hand intertwined with yours look natural.
“Oh, soft launch?” Dylan comments, and you snap your fingers in confirmation.
Eddie chuckles, all the words coming out of you and Dylan sounding like a different language. “What?”
“Okay, so it’s not just me!” Steve laughs, holding his chest dramatically. “Seriously, what are you two on about?”
Dylan answers before you can–  you’re still trying to get a good angle of his hand holding yours on the table. “It’s posting an update to your relationship status without giving a name to the person. It’s telling the world you’re taken, but not by who. Usually in case they break up, but I don’t think it’s why she’s doing it.”
“No, Eddie has no social media and I know…” you pause, leaning back to take one more, “that he wants to keep it that way, so, I’m showing him off in my own way.” You glare at your phone, swearing softly when it still doesn’t look right.
“For fucks’ sake, let me,” Dylan snatches your phone and gets up from the booth, squats and places the phone as if you were the one taking it yourself, snaps a photo, and tosses the phone back to you. “There.”
The phone falls past your hand and into your lap. You gently pick it up, assessing the photo in your recents. Damn. It was the exact vibe you were looking for. “Well, thanks.”
Dylan shoots an eye roll back, his heart not really in it.
“Let’s see?” Eddie asks, leaning into you, resting his chin against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. You’ve already captioned and posted the photo onto your Instagram, so you let him view the screen. He lets out a chuckle, a wide grin appearing on his face. “I like the photo, but what does the caption mean? Greater than what?”
Caption reads, ‘Him>’.
“Oh, it just means you’re ‘greater than’ everything else. There is no one thing to put because it would be useless.” You explain, turning your phone off and placing it face down on the table.
Eddie shifts the two of you so he can see your face, eyes switching between yours as he assesses you. You look up at him, curious to what could possibly be on that brain of his. “You think I’m greater than everything else?”
Of course you’ve seen it plastered on social media sites, somewhat of a common way to refer to your personal opinion of something. It’s so normalized, and you figured it was a simple way to announce that you were taken by the finest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You nod, “Of course!”
His hand frames your face and suddenly his lips are on yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as the kiss and the pure love you feel in his reaction makes you feel like you’d be knocked off your feet if you weren’t already sitting down. Your limbs catch up and one hand lands on his thigh, ignoring the subtle heat you feel pooling in your cunt.
Steve and Dylan are forgotten as you get caught up in a frenzy, lips locking with a level of need for one another that would give any other person envy over the display of passion. Dylan has gotten used to it, you two were in the habit of kissing one another like this often. Steve takes a large sip of his bourbon, leaning back in his booth and leaning right to him. “So, this—”
“Yeah, that’s normal.” Dylan tells him.
“Jesus, I thought you were exaggerating.” Steve pauses, moving his plate away from him, all done. “Thought he was exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating what?” Dylan asks, afraid of the answer.
Steve smirks, taking another sip of his drink. “Just drink your apple juice.” He nods to Dylan’s beer; Dylan shoves his shoulder fondly in response. Steve takes one last big swig of his drink, gesturing to the waitress across the room for her assistance. “Hey. You two. Take a breather.”
Your kisses haven’t gotten any more intense, though his hand placed gently on your thigh was a tease. You could make out with him for hours, knowing your limits in the restaurant booth. Eddie finally pulls back, kissing you delicately a few times on the lips as to not leave you hanging, leaving you reeling when the server stops by.
“Just the check, please.” Steve tells her, smug.
The waitress nods, grabbing plates when the four of you insist you’re all done with your food. Steve and Eddie end up telling a story from their early 20’s when they were both single, finishing each other’s sentences as they remind each other how unruly they were back then. Your eyes flick back and forth between them, something clicking.
“Hmm.” You muster, letting yourself think about it.
“Yes, baby?”
You zone back in, blinking as you realize the three of them are staring at you expectantly. You hadn’t even realized you hummed out loud. “Oh, nothing.” But he’s not budging. None of them are. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
Still no dice.
You lean forward towards Dylan, who sits across from you, lowering your voice. “Do you want to be traumatized by your dad’s sex life?” He shakes his head, the smile leaving his face. You lean back, satisfied. “Then don’t worry about it.”
“For the record, I think you mean more traumatized.” Dylan mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. You kick his shin underneath the table, light enough to hurt but not do anything. You giggle at his reaction, leaning into Eddie’s arm as it snakes around your own.
Your phone buzzes, another text from Bethany. You smile as you check it, content in Eddie’s arms as the waitress comes around again with the bill. Steve hands her a card as he watches Eddie speak softly to you, nothing important, just something causing you to giggle. He feels confident in his own marriage, a love that gave him four kids with a stable home to drive back to. It just made him happy to see Eddie in a relationship where it’s clearly reciprocated.
As Eddie whispers to you, you can barely take in the words Bethany has texted you, but what she has to say to you is seemingly important, your phone buzzing repeatedly in your hands. You allow your eyes to focus back on them and the all-caps of her texts become clear.
CHECK YOUR INSTA
HELLO???
BABE
HELLO
GO CHECK IT YOUR POST ALREADY HAS OVER 500 LIKES
BITCH IT’S AT ONE THOUSAND
HELLLLOOOO
“Oh, shit.” You switch apps to make sure it’s true. In your notifications, there are over 300 comments and more likes than Bethany had claimed, 1.5 thousand. By no means is it viral, but most of your posts got no more than 100 due to your circle of friends in the app being so small. “Holy shit.” There are several comments praising Eddie’s hand, even some drool emojis. The only solace you can give yourself is that you now know you are never exposing his face. “Um, Ed. Your hand has gotten attention.”
He leans over, seeing the amount of engagement on your post. “Cool.” He comments, the numbers not meaning much to him.
“I could’ve told you that much.” Steve laughs.
You peer at him questioningly, silently asking what he meant by it.
“Listen, the ladies in Hawkins are…what is it…thirsty?” He checks with Dylan. Dylan chuckles and confirms it. “Yeah, okay, thirsty. They are mad thirsty over Eddie. If I accidentally mention that the Munsons are coming into town, it becomes town gossip. It’s like Billy Hargrove all over again, except this time it’s age appropriate.”
You turn back to Eddie, serious as you can be. “You’re never going back.”
 He laughs, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it.”
-
As you walk towards the front door of the restaurant, the sun has set on another day. Eddie’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and Steve calls out to Eddie as he leads you to his truck, drawing your attentions. “Munson!”
Eddie turns around, the use of his last name certainly grabbing his attention. They quit using last names on one another years ago. The last time Eddie fully recalls being called Munson by Steve; Steve was pulling at his hair… “You rang, Harrington?”
“Can I steal your girlfriend for a drive?” He asks, sending a smile your way.
“Uh,” Eddie looks at you, making sure you’re comfortable with it. You nod your head, sharing a look with him. “Sure. Have her back within the hour, though.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve jokes, laughing to himself when Eddie subtly grits his teeth, and a pink blush reaches his cheeks. “C’mon, I don’t bite.”
You give your boyfriend a hug, embracing his kiss of safety and comfort. “Love you.” As you walk the steps toward Steve, Eddie tugs you back by your fingertips, one last kiss for good measure.
“Love you more.” He mutters, and for a second you believe him. Oh, to follow him into his truck and ride with him in a comfortable silence on the way back.
“Come on! One hour won’t kill you.” Steve grabs your hand before you can register, leading the way to his SUV.
Dylan passes you on the way to his dad, waving cheekily on the way and you flip him off.
You get into the dark blue SUV, a Range Rover, no less. It’s evident he has a four-year-old with the car seat and the mess in his back seat, but you know that if he didn’t have Eliza, the brown interior would’ve been spotless. Steve turns down the radio he had blasting, turning his iPhone connection on. “Ready for some oldies?”
“You and Eddie. Terrible, the both of you.” You mutter, shaking your head.
Steve laughs, pulling out of the parking lot and turning the opposite way of Eddie’s (yours too) house. “Don’t worry, just taking the long way.” He assures you after he sees you staring wistfully off at Eddie’s tail lights.
It’s about five minutes of silence until Steve talks again. “So, I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I was…I was shocked. When you opened the door, I didn’t know who you were, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the answer I got. Can you tell me your version of how you two got together? I didn’t want Eddie interjecting.”
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Uh, Dylan forgot a parking pass on our way to the beach, so he stopped by the house to look for it. Eddie comes down, sweats low on his hips and hair still wet from his shower, and I could barely focus on anything else around me. I should’ve broken up with Dylan the moment I got to his truck.” You tell him, making sure Steve knows full well that you are still apologetic about the cheating.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s all fine and dandy. As far as Dylan is concerned, it hurt, but it’s long gone in his mind. Trust me. Any hesitation is aimed at Eddie, and for good reason.” Steve reassures you, feeling your defense build. “Don’t worry. Just tell the story.”
“Okay. I didn’t end it because I was afraid he’d lash out and it would’ve been forever before getting ahold of Eddie again. I couldn’t risk it, so I stayed. It lasted until that weekend, when I was doing horny things in the living room with Dylan just because Eddie was home. Maybe he’d hear something, maybe he’d look…maybe he’d watch…” You drift off, remembering the sheer urgency you had for him. “I wore skimpy outfits, I bent over around the house, I was fully prepared for Eddie, and to be honest, I was too hormonal to care or understand the repercussions.” You glance out the window, lights blinding you as you pass each neon sign. “So, we hooked up. After spending more time with him, I realized how much I had already cared about him. Now, Steve, now, I love that man so goddamn much.”
Steve smiles at you as he drives, his head waving with the bumps in the road. “Where do you see this going? For your future? In the long term, are you willing to accept that his body will give out a lot earlier than yours?”
 A knot forms in your stomach in the shape of a confession. You switch your glance to Steve, and you feel safe with him. Not like Eddie, no. It was like he would never tell your secrets, or like he’d protect you. “Uh, this evening, I had the terrifying displeasure of realizing one day I’d want kids with him. One day, after he marries me and tells the whole world who I belong to, I want to have his baby. I want to raise a baby into a handful of a toddler into a snarky teenager. I thought I was totally in the clear for kids with him, but you showed him the video of Eliza and now it’s…I can’t get rid of it. So, thanks for that, Steve.” Admitting to this, out loud even…it’s too much. “I want to spend my life with him.”
You wait for an answer, somewhat on edge as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with the knowledge that you will bury him one day?” Steve pressures on, and you respect it.
“I’ve accepted the realities, yes, which is why I’m not telling him I want kids. He said he’s too tired. I can’t force that on him.”
A full belly laugh escapes Steve as he shakes his head. “If you told him that you want a baby, he would absolutely give you one without a moment’s hesitation. I have never seen him like this, not even with his ex.” He pauses, thinking on how to tell you. “Listen, I don’t know if you know much about her, but Eddie’s ex was not all that…kind to him.” He chooses his words carefully. “He was into her from the get-go, but it was obvious he was more into her. Eventually, when Eddie realized she was cheating, he called me, panicking about losing Dylan.
“I sent my best lawyer to him. Less than a week later they have court dates for custody hearings. Honestly, she was angry she was caught and angry she wasn’t the one to file. I think it took her being angry and belligerent in court for Eddie to finally see who she was. The judge was patient, more than she should’ve been. When she didn’t listen to the judge’s warnings, Eddie was granted everything he wanted. He thought it was a goddamn miracle, the only two things he wanted were the shop and Dylan. The shop had people’s livelihoods; it was their only income. Dylan just wanted to be with his dad, he made that very clear.
“Once the dust settled, it sank in. He called, finally, crying on the floor of the closet. He had spent all year on it just for her to only have it for a handful of months. It was a labour of love for him, and it turned out she was sleeping with someone else the entire time.”
Your teeth grit, fucking seething for Eddie. If either Eddie or Steve knew what was good for her, they’d never tell you her name.
“I came immediately, bringing Arlo and Nick to help cheer him up. Nick was only about 2, so he would’ve done more cheering in the way that toddlers do. But even Arlo knew something was up so it’s the one and only time he’s ever played DnD and fully embraced it. When Nick went to bed, the four of us all played together.” Steve observes your body language, your jaw locked and fists clenched. You’re so angry for him. He decides to omit the fact that after the kids went to bed, Eddie was inconsolable in his heartbreak. Steve knows it might come out one day, but that was not the point of this discussion.
“I promise, I didn’t tell you to make you mad, I just need you to know that Eddie will love you selflessly and wholly, because he doesn’t have it in himself to love any other way.” He slows to a stop at a red light, turning his head to face you. “I was very worried at first, but man, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
The question still echoes in your mind, but the answer is starting to lean towards a yes. “How did you guys become friends?” You ask instead, leaning away from your boyfriend’s heartbreak and his bitchy ex.
“That… is a very long story.”
“Eddie gave you an hour, of which you’ve only used 15 minutes.” You point out, smirking.
“Alright, buckle up. It’s Hawkins, Indiana. 1996. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson is missing.”
-
Steve was right, the story of their friendship was a long one. He didn’t necessarily dive into the nitty gritty, just implied he was falsely accused in a situation where he had no alibi and helped him out. One day, years later you would finally feel comfortable asking and Eddie would get into the full details of the Upside Down.
Steve brought you home with ten minutes to spare, you cling to Eddie as soon as you see him. The unresolved lust from earlier on top of the empathy for how hard it must’ve been for him drove your need for him, just you and him. “Can’t wait any longer.” You whisper, fingers digging into the now open button up shirt he wore to dinner and fisting the material into a ball with your hands.
You feel a huff of silent laughter come from him, a long sigh leaving his lips as he considers his options. It’s only 11 o’clock. Usually, when Steve is in town he stays for hours into the night to talk and laugh together. Dylan started a habit of joining their conversations as he got older. He knows it’s what they’re expecting, and he knows exactly what you need. He lifts your face with his hands. “Go get dressed into something more comfortable. Be right up.”
You nod, feeling sleepy, and for once, not conscious of the audience you held with him.
As you run upstairs, Eddie turns to Steve. “You and Dylan go to your hotel room. I’ll meet you there. Later.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise. “Didn’t you say you were exhausted?”
“I could just stay home all night. I have no problems with that.” Eddie bites back, a tone of endearment at the root of it.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. God, I miss when you were single,”
Dylan and Steve leave for the hotel room, the two shooting teasing glances at Eddie.
You lay on your side of the bed, scrolling on your phone but only paying the littlest attention. Eddie opens the door, his long legs take him to the bed quickly as he lies right next to you. You immediately crawl into his arms, the phone forgotten. Your chest feels tight as you mentally go over what Steve told you, the way his ex treated him. There’s no way it was true, because Eddie ever feeling like he deserved any of it was too much for you to bear.
Eddie feels the shift in you, something’s different. It isn’t one of your normal hugs. Your arms are wrapped around his, as if you’re sheltering him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, brows furrowed as he notes your quickened breathing and heart rate. You’re lying down; you should be far more relaxed.
“Steve…Steve told me more about your ex, and it made me sick to my stomach.” You admit, not wanting many secrets between the two of you. You’re already harbouring one, you don’t need another. “I don’t know how anyone could possibly treat you like that.”
Eddie’s eyes well and he looks up, trying not to let a tear fall from the tone of your voice or how genuine you sound in your anger for him. “It’s ancient history, now, baby.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” You counter, hands squeezing him. “I love you more than I can even conceive. More than I can wrap my head around… I can’t stand the thought of you being heartbroken because that bitch decided someone building her a closet wasn’t good enough for her.”
Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how loved you just made him feel, and how in your own way, you just told him he would be just as protected as you are by him. You would stand up for him the same way he would for you. He doesn’t have the words or the strength to hold back the tears, so he leans in and kisses you, really kisses you.  
As his lips meet yours, you taste the salt of his tears and lightly use your thumbs to brush them away. He climbs on top of you, brushing his hand under your PJ shirt, testing the waters. You guide his hand to your tit, aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours. Your kisses are slow and purposeful, the stream of the salt still coming, and you ignore it for the sake of his hand feeling so goddamn good on your nipple as he teases you. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about them, anyway. Your mouth opens against him as he flicks it, whimpering.
You wrap your legs around his hips, unwinding them from between his legs and his bulge presses into your covered heat immediately. You kiss down his jaw, gently decorating his neck with wet kisses as you kiss away the salt that streamed down his face. Your hand moves down to palm him through his slacks, a whimper leaving him. “Do…do you want to?” You check, slightly stroking him through his jeans.
He sniffles, bunching up your shirt to help it off. “Yes. Sorry, I can’t handle strong emotions, they…overwhelm me.”
“I’ll handle them for the both of us.” You offer.
Eddie is a mess already, and he tugs on you to kiss you some more. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.” He mutters, gulping through his kisses.
You don’t answer him, grabbing at his shirt to take it off. As the shirt flies off, his chest comes full contact with yours and you arch your hips up to meet his, the bulge hitting your heat almost too perfectly. You grind on it, needing him now, wanting to feel all of him.
Eddie reads your mind, tearful but still in tune with everything your body needs from him. His hands move your pants down your legs, placing kisses down your torso as he does. He crawls back up to you, taking his own pants off as he continues to wantonly kiss you. Before you know it, you feel his cock against your thigh as he presses your legs into your stomach.
Eddie leans into you, connecting your foreheads. You frame his face, staring at his wet brown eyes. “Please baby.” You kiss him, your hips barely able to stay still. “I love you, I fucking need you.”
“I know.” He mumbles, nodding his head. He guides his cock into you, pushing in gently but deeply into you within seconds. Your legs tighten around his torso, your pussy sucking him in. “Christ.”
His face finds itself in your neck, giving sweet kisses up and down as he starts to move his hips. You hold onto him, hands wrapped around his torso, spread-out palms down on his back. His hips rock so slowly, taking in every inch of your pussy he possibly can. His forehead finds yours again and his eyes open and stare into yours. His mouth is parted, his cheeks are flushed, and no longer wet. Somewhere in the midst he stopped crying, but the emotions he felt were still there. “Feels good?”
You nod, breath hitching by the sheer emotion you see in his eyes. “So good, baby.”
He smiles softly, staring at you half lidded. “Don’t want it harder?” He teases, bucking his hips hard once before moving back to his soft pace.
The buck releases a loud cry of pleasure from you, not expecting it. “Fuck, Ed. Can you do that again?”
Eddie smiles wider. “Mmhm.” He bucks into you harder again a few times, and your eyes close immediately, the heat from your pussy starting to pool. “Oh my god, Eddie.”
“More?” He asks, slowing his hips again. “My love, if you want me to fuck you harder, you need to tell me.”
“Fuck me harder, Ed. Please.”
Eddie chuckles softly, stopping his movements altogether to give you a kiss, taking your breath away by the love in it. “Sure thing, baby.”
Before you know it, his hips start at an unforgiving pace, the force takes you aback so badly, you moan loudly at every buck, every rut of his hips against yours. His thumb connects to your neglected clit, and the subtle heat explodes into a frenzy. Eddie feels your velvet walls pulse around him as you get closer. “I wanna feel that perfect pussy cum all over my cock.”
“Eddie, so close…love you so much…” you’re seeing stars, your legs tense around him. He leans down to you, giving your torso one long lick down your tummy and, oddly enough, it was the final thing to drive you over the edge.
Your pussy tightening around him does it for Eddie, watching your face as your orgasm rips through you, filling you up with his cum, white ropes shooting into you. He collapses on your chest, the physical exhaustion from the day mixed with the added exhaustion from emotionally breaking down finally piling on him. “Sweetheart, I love you. So fucking much. I just…can’t believe how much better you’ve made my life.”
“I love you.” Your entire body wraps around him, holding him close to you. “Do you have to go?”
“Would you like to come with me?”
You nod your head, knowing full well you’ll probably fall asleep on the couch in Steve’s hotel room.
“Alright, let’s go.”
-
Eddie scratches his head while working on some paperwork in his work office, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he goes through some numbers. One of the things he hates about owning a business is the math part of it. Luckily, he’s good at math, it’s just when the numbers suddenly go negative, it creates an issue.
His phone sitting on the desk starts to ring and he picks it up, expecting it to be you, but instead he’s met with an unknown number. Eddie sighs and reluctantly answers. It could be a customer with a new number for all he knows.
Wrong. Dead wrong.
“Eddie Munson speaking.” He answers, scanning over another invoice.
“Why the fuck are you dating a 25-year-old?” It occurs to Eddie this phone number has an area code from Boston…which is where she moved to. Fuck.
“Hi, Brooke.” He sighs, tired.
“Yeah, yeah. When and why the fuck are you dating some little hot piece of ass? You know she’s probably a gold digger, right? This morning she posted a selfie from my closet and it looks like she’s already moved in?”
“We met through a friend” Eddie wraps his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he ever saw in her craziness. “Wait, why am I telling you this, what fucking nerve do you have to call me and accuse my girlfriend being a gold digger?! How the fuck did you even find out?”
“Her little Instagram post with you two holding hands, which by the way, was cheesy and not in a good way. It got a lot of attention and Laura recognized your hands immediately and sent me the post.”
Fucking Laura. “Good for you, you found her Instagram.” He sighs, leaning back in his office chair. “I owe you nothing, Brooke. Nothing. I’m not sure what you had expected from this conversation but I’m sure this wasn’t it. Oh, and Brooke? That’s not your closet, hasn’t been for 15 years. Don’t call me again or I'll get my lawyer.”
“Oh, calm down.” Brooke huffs, her voice agitated. As if her voice had any other tone. Eddie hears her muffle the speaker to her phone. “Boys, quiet down for five minutes? I’m on the phone!” There’s another shuffle of noise on the other end, then her voice is directed back at Eddie, “That won’t be necessary. I just need to make sure you know that she will ruin your life because she’s a little skank.”
“Talk about my wife that way again and you’ll be hearing from a lot more than just my lawyer, you absolute cunt.” Eddie hangs up on her, missing the satisfaction of slamming a phone on the receiver. He picks his work phone up and slams it down. There, much better.
Wait until Steve hears about this… Holy shit.
Wait until you hear about it. Oh, fuck.
-
Steve manages to stretch his visit for one more day, laying on the couch with you as you watch a movie he recommended to you. He lays down with his torso on the arm rest, legs resting on your lap. When his legs landed, you glared at him, asking if he had nowhere else to place them. Steve said in response, “Of course, I do! You’ll just hold them because you’re so nice.”
So, you do. The movie is called The Gentlemen, a fast-paced comedy about a drug lord attempting to sell his business and all the shenanigans that follow. You find yourself laughing with him, expecting some movie like The Godfather or Fight Club, though it came out only four years ago.
Eddie swings open the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a smirk on his face. “Oh my god, Steve. Oh my god.” Eddie came straight from work, the phone call not allowing his brain to go over another invoice, especially when the numbers didn’t make sense. He struts to the couch, lifts Steve’s legs and sits right next to you, placing Steve’s legs back on his lap. He places his arm around you, looking at Steve with a smirk plastered. “Steve. Oh, my god.”
“Ed?” You ask, taking in his flustered features. Not flustered in the way you’re used to, but flustered nonetheless. “Everything okay?”
He nods his head, an incredulous laugh escaping as he does. “Oh, yeah. Totally okay. Got a phone call today.” You and Steve share a look of concern over his shoulder. “From Brooke.”
Now, this name means nothing to you. But from Steve’s reaction, in a split second you realize it’s the name of the woman you have grown to viscerally hate. “No way. What…what did she say?”
“She found Y/N’s Instagram post from last night and recognized my hand.” Eddie says, squeezing your shoulder. “She uh, then proceeded to insult me, insult her, and remind me how grateful I am she left me before I realized what a terrible person she is.”
“Anything else?” Steve asks, eyes wide. Brooke has literally been radio silent for years.
“Yeah, but nothing worth getting into.” Eddie comments, leaning into the couch, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Not something he wants to get into with you around, but definitely will with his best friend. “She sounded…jealous.”
“Jealous how?”
Eddie looks at you, twisting his body to face you. “Jealous of you. Out of line, absolutely, but jealous.”
The satisfaction that ripples through your body is simply too much. A woman took advantage of his kindness and left him for dead and now she’s jealous? Good. “Wait, she stalks my Instagram?”
“Uh, I suppose, yes.” Eddie answers, not so sure he understands the use of stalk.
“I could have some fun with this.” You mutter, thinking to yourself.
“Baby?” Eddie asks, slightly scared of the wicked smirk he sees displayed on your face.
“Hmm.” You mumble, opening your phone to your Pinterest app. “Yes?”
“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, talking low as he watches over your shoulder.
“Nothing. Just be ready for a picture when I need you.”
Eddie laughs, ready to calm you down a bit, but finds himself a little fearful of the plan in your mind.
You scroll through your Pinterest for about ten minutes while Steve and Eddie converse about the boys again. If you have learned one thing about Steve, it’s that his kids are his pride and joy. The conversation leads to Eliza, and you feel that pang in your stomach again. It’s getting harder to ignore as you watch Eddie’s face light up at the endless stories of the kids’ mischief.
Steve gets up from the couch, needing to use the bathroom. While he’s gone, you take advantage, finally having a moment to ask the question that’s been on your mind. “Hey, Ed.” You start, his head turning to face you, almost impossibly close.
“Yes, baby?”
Shit, his lips are so tempting. You sigh, ignoring the pull to his lips. “I just have a question, and please don’t be offended if the answer is no.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pleasantly surprised by your reaction to his ex-wife calling, so he’s certainly intrigued by what you’re about to say. “I make no promises.”
That’s not comforting. “Okay. Have you and Steve…did you guys ever hook up?” You ask, avoiding his eyes, which is impossible because they’re right there.  
Eddie breaks into a smile followed by incredibly contagious laughter. You were certain you must’ve been dead wrong based on his laughter alone. You’re just reading into things that aren’t there. He finally stops, grabbing your face for a smiley, giggly kiss. You pull back, looking at him in confusion, as he laughs again. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He says, eyes searching yours.
Oh, fuck. You were right! “Wait.” You say while giggling. “I…I was right?”
“Yeah.”
“When?!”
Eddie squints comically, looking up. “Uh, 27 or so years ago in Vegas.”
You squint back at the sheer cliché of it all. “Vegas? Really?”
“Well, we were both down on our luck, we thought, very drunkenly, might I add, a trip to Vegas would help. It certainly did the trick, I think.”
You laugh, the situation described much differently than what you had expected. “I bet it did.” You boop him on the nose as he scrunches it adorably.
Steve comes out from the bathroom and sees your silly display of love, jogging to the couch. “You guys are cavity inducing. Seriously.”
“Steve.” Eddie says, turning his head to face him. “She figured it out.”
Steve smirks, silently asking Eddie if he was talking about what Steve thought he was talking about. “Hmm?”
“Mmhmm.”
“No shit! What gave it away?” Steve asks, genuinely curious as he attempts to extend his legs onto Eddie’s lap again.
“No offense, you guys, but you both act like you have a secret with one another that you won’t share with the class. There’re only so many secrets that could be.” You offer an answer, and they seem to accept it…for the most part.
“What, we don’t give off two very straight dudes?” Eddie jokes, making you shove his shoulder.
“See, Dylan’s great, but I’ve been dying to ask since last night, and I wasn’t gonna ask with him around.”
Eddie chuckles, leaning in for one last gentle kiss. When he separates, he clutches onto Steve’s leg, startling him. “Sorry,” he laughs through his apology. “I have to take a shower then I have one more errand to run, and I need your help before you take off tonight.”
“Sure, dude. What do you need?”
You go back on your phone, checking your Pinterest and mostly tuning out the conversation, looking for subtle ways to show Eddie off on your Instagram that will piss Brooke off. Eddie nods his head to indicate it isn’t a conversation to be had around you, and you don’t even notice.
Steve nods in understanding, fist bumping Eddie as he runs around the couch and up the stairs. The silence that settles around you while he’s upstairs is comfortable, Steve paying attention to the movie as the plot thickens while you scroll through your phone and gather devious ideas. You barely notice the ten minutes pass by as Eddie comes back downstairs. You clock the scent of his freshly showered self, causing you to look up.
Eddie is wearing a pair of jeans and a button up loosely tucked in with a chain necklace. You pick your jaw off the floor, gulping as he walks up to you with a smirk on his face as he witnesses your very visible reaction. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead and taps on Steve’s leg.
Steve gets up from the couch and Eddie grabs his keys. “Be back soon, baby!”
“Could you get some pop?” You ask him as he opens the front door.
“Baby, we have so much to drink that’s not gonna rot those pretty teeth. It won’t kill you to drink water.” He says, stopping in the doorway. You roll your eyes, tempted to order in from a convenience store if he was gonna be this stubborn. “If there’s pop here when I get home, you’re gonna see a consequence.”
“Yes, daddy.” You bite back. Well, if you order one drink and place it in the bottom of the recycling, he won’t see it, right?
“Hey. Drink some water. I mean it. Take care of yourself, for Christ’ sake.” He yells, hearing your eyes roll. “Love you!”
Eddie shuts the door, reminding himself to check the recycling when he gets home.
“Daddy, huh?” Steve asks, poking fun as they get into his truck.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the keys into the ignition. His hands move to put the vehicle in reverse when something occurs to him. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Uh, give me a sec.” Eddie brings out his phone, going through the 15 contacts, scrolls right to Maya. He rings it.
“…Hello?” Maya answers, sounding understandably perplexed.
“Hi, Maya, how would one know what kind of ring to get without asking the person it’s for?” Steve’s brows rais, the errand being ring shopping is news to him.
“Well… it depends. Do you want to buy her a ring just because…or are you shopping for,” she pauses, slowly saying it. If she was wrong, it could set off an alarm, “…an engagement ring?”
“Yeah, an engagement ring.” Eddie admits, saying it out loud feels crazy to him. “How would one figure that out?”
“Give me five minutes.” She says, and abruptly hangs up the phone.
As Eddie stares at his phone in bewilderment, Steve leans into him. “Engagement ring, huh?”
“Won’t be asking her until at least another few months, if I can even wait that long. I said something on the phone with Brooke today. It just came out.” Eddie offers, his voice soft as he explains to Steve what’s been invading his mind for the last hour. “Brooke went a bit far on the insults. She called her a skank.”
“How classy.” Steve offers dryly, his face suggesting it was anything but.
“I got so mad. I’ve never been as mad at her as I was when those words left her mouth. I said if she ever called my wife a name again, I would be calling more than just my lawyer.” He quotes himself, letting the word sink into Steve’s skin.
“Oh shit.” Steve mutters, the weight of the word kicking in.
“Yeah, it slipped out, but calling her my wife felt so damn good I couldn’t help myself. I’m not getting any younger.” Eddie pauses before saying anything else, the next confession might be too much to say out loud yet.
“C’mon. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” Steve says, giving him some comfort.
“Her eyes when she looks at pictures of Eliza, or listens to stories about your boys, fuck I thought I never wanted another kid, but Jesus Christ, I need to see her face when she looks at one of ours.” Eddie admits out loud for the first time, the words scaring the shit out of him. Dylan in his 20s was exhausting. Could he handle another newborn? Another toddler? Another teenager?
Steve felt like he held all the power in knowing you two both wanted a kid. Feels like neither of you are ready to tell the other, so it’s a secret he’ll have to keep to himself for now. (If he’s strong enough.)
Eddie’s phone buzzes, a link appearing in a message from Maya. He opens it up and it directs him to your Pinterest page. Eddie wonders how Maya even found it. Your name isn’t connected to it. The link is specific to a board labeled Engagement Rings with a bunch of sparkle emojis surrounding it. Eddie looks at a few of them, screenshotting a handful to get the basic idea of what you’d want. He texts back Maya to thank her and puts his truck in reverse before Steve even knows what’s happening.
-
Eddie and Steve go through at least three jewelry stores before Eddie angers Steve at his indecisiveness. It isn’t that Eddie is indecisive, it’s that he’s hoping for a jeweler to look at the general vibe of your board and have the perfect ring to offer. Instead, Eddie’s met with vague indications of where he could look. These interactions all leave Eddie feeling frustrated as just walks out of the store for the next one only about ten feet away.
It takes Eddie a few tries until he finds the fairy godmother he’s been looking for, but finally he shows an engagement ring specialist the general aura of the rings you had saved, and she brings out four or five options that fall into the same category for Eddie to look at. Maybe Eddie could’ve been clearer with other stores of what he needed, but it felt as if they didn’t think he was going to buy one, anyway. Here, in this store, he feels like a respected customer, which goes a long way with him. In his shop, he spends his extra time making sure his men don’t treat any ladies like they know less just because they’re women. He hoped that even though he had a few faded tattoos and dressed alternatively, he’d be extended that same courtesy.
The helpful sales lady holds up each ring and explains to Eddie why she picked it in relevance to the photos you saved. Eddie sighs, each one in the right field, but not quite there. As she puts rings away to keep on looking, Eddie clutches onto the glass in frustration, feeling completely unprepared. Brooke basically gave him her ring and told him to propose when he had the balls. He wants you to love this ring, he wants to see it and know that it was made for you.
Maybe that’s too much to place on a ring. But for Eddie, just the simple prospect of searching for this ring means he has the hope that you will be his for the rest of his life.
Just when he’s ready to leave for the next store, she brings another one, a look on her face that tells Eddie she might’ve found exactly what he’s been looking for. She lays it out on a cloth, as Eddie marvels at it. It’s a thin, silver ring with four blue stones lined up along the band as the metal crosses over itself like vines. Eddie knows all of the jewelry you wear is silver, dainty, and has a few hints of blue. From the moment he sees it, he knows it’s the One.
Eddie holds it up for a few moments, circling it around in his hand. It takes all the self control in the world not to just head home and propose that night. He hands over a ring he took from the center console in your closet to the sales lady for your size. Within ten minutes, the papers are signed, the ring paid for, and Eddie walks out with a small white bag.
They get into the truck, the white bag small, yet significant as it sits in the back seat. “Well, that’s a step you’re taking.” Steve observes, carefully assessing his best friend’s emotional state.
“Mmhmm.” Eddie hums, staring at the bag in the rearview mirror. “And now, I’m fighting the urge to propose tonight.”
“Tonight?” Steve asks him, the speed of your relationship knocking him in the gut. “Let’s not scare her off. Plan a nice meal, set out a pretty dress on the bed for her. I bet she’d appreciate that.” Eddie considers this, knowing Steve is probably right.
So, now the ring sits in its box in the bottom of Eddie’s underwear drawer.
-
When Eddie and Steve get home, they find you on the couch napping while a movie neither of them has heard of plays on the TV, a bottle of nearly empty coke on the table next to it. Eddie sneaks upstairs to hide the evidence, the bag shoved into the bottom of a trash can, and the ring tucked safely away. When he comes back down, Steve is in the kitchen making himself a snack for the road while Eddie crouches in front of the couch to wake you up.
“Morning, baby.” He says in a low voice, petting your left cheek with his thumb.
Your breath hitches as you wake up, the last thing you remember is being giddy as you picked up your order from the front step with chips, candy, and a single bottle of pop. As you finished most of your snack, the movie started to matter less and less, a phenomenon that only occurs when you know that you’re about to pass out on the couch.
“There she is.” He mumbles as your eyes take in your surroundings. Him, the end of the movie you picked out, and the setting sun through the curtains. “Hi. I see we didn’t take my concern for the amount of pop you consume to heart?” He musters, gesturing to the side table.
You stretch, every muscle in your extended limbs feeling it. “You made it pretty clear it was for my teeth.” You mumble, unable to prevent a smile at Eddie’s floored reaction.
“I see.” He mutters, and the smirk on his face is enough to send a thrill of fear through you. “C’mon, Steve is about to leave town. Let’s go say our goodbyes.”
He tugs on your hands, lifting you up off the couch, guiding you to where Steve’s packing a recyclable grocery store bag with snacks he found around the kitchen. He comes out of the kitchen clutching the bag, his brown eyes shooting a fond look to the both of you. “Sorry, guys. Gotta get to the actual purpose of my trip eventually.”
You squint at him, pretending to consider forgiving him. “I suppose we’ll forgive you. If… you bring Eliza next time.”
“Another one bites the dust.” Steve mutters under his breath, chuckling. Eliza Harrington really has the whole world wrapped around her little pinky. (And oh, boy, does she know it.) He grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug. “Take care of him, will ya?”
You nod into his bicep, the soft spot he had gained for you over the last two days taking you by surprise and vice versa for him. “You know I will.”
Steve can’t resist the joke. “Oh, I know you do.”
You hit him playfully, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks.
Steve and Eddie share an even longer hug, something about saying goodbye to old friends is always hard, you know that. As they separate, still clutching each other, Steve says something under his breath that makes Eddie hit him harshly. “Steve.”
“What?”
“Dude. Subtlety?”
Steve chuckles as he picks up his bag of goodies. “If you two are one thing, it ain’t subtle.”
You’re left questioning what could’ve possibly warranted the reaction that Eddie let out as Steve and Eddie do a few more rounds of farewell. It never seems to end as they keep bringing up new topics with each step Steve makes toward the door. It reminds you of your mom at the grocery store when you were eight.
The door finally slams, Steve yelling an "I love you" while Eddie shouts “Yeah right!” He brings out his phone soon after, sending I love you, too to Steve as a text. Well, Eddie is realizing that a next time is never guaranteed.  
The moment Steve’s SUV takes off, the low hum of the engine riding off to the end of the street, you turn back to the couch for a night in with Eddie. Alas, he has other plans. You lead him to the couch, holding his hand. Eddie tugs you back sharply, your limbs flailing as a result. “Woah, there, sweetheart.”
You give him a questioning look, wondering if you were just picturing his eyes darkening. “Hmm?”
“I asked you, very nicely, not to order pop. For one thing I think you drink too much of it, and for another there is water, juice, alcohol, even. Baby, I would just appreciate you taking my wishes into account.” His voice is serious, to a point that startles you. “So. As mentioned, there will be a consequence.”
“Like…like what?” You ask him, gulping as he traces his fingers along your collarbone so lightly you barely feel it.
He leans down, leaning into whisper, “Run.”
Your heart rate stutters as you turn away from him and run straight towards the basement, a place you know was once Dylan’s hangout spot, but now is just a dusty living room. Your feet trip over themselves as they run down the steps, pure panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run to a guest room, hiding in the corner.
Upstairs, there are footsteps leading directly to the steps you just ran down. He fucking walks. He takes his time, step by step, and you can tell with each step as your heart rate picks up that he’s taunting you. He knows you’re in some corner somewhere, but he just doesn’t know which one. “Downstairs, huh? Didn’t see that coming.” Eddie admits, peering around each corner with his hands behind his back.
Fuck, you’re just a sitting duck here. You crawl up by the door, waiting patiently as he walks into the room right across from the one you’re hiding in. You make a quick run for the stairs, your breathing tight in your chest as you run, but for some reason, can’t recall why you’re running, you’re so fucking turned on right now. Your first few steps are loud and you curse out loud when suddenly Eddie’s feet are right behind yours, giggling with glee as you do.
Somehow, you make it up the steps and run straight to the kitchen, stopping at the island. He lands on the other side, his face hungry with want, his shirt untucked. There’s a wild look in his eye you can’t quite understand. You giggle as you attempt to go either way, realizing you’re stuck where you are.
“Oh, how is she gonna get out?” He taunts, watching you assess the situation.
Your instincts take over. You miraculously hop onto the island, using some sort of kicking method against the counter straight across and crawl into a dive for him, attacking his lips with yours. He accepts you without fail, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back hungrily. You place kisses down his neck, focusing on the one spot on his collarbone you knew he loved when you sucked on it.
“Like that.” You answer him, starting to run straight towards your bedroom.
Laughter like music to Eddie’s ears leaves your mouth as you reach the top of the stairs, and he books it straight after you, not waiting another second to chase you to where he suspects is either the hallway or your closet. You’re crouched down in the hallway, hoping he’ll go straight to the bedroom. He doesn’t, seeing you as soon as he rounds the corner.
He fists your hair at the crown and you help as he lifts you to your feet. “Looks like I caught ya.” He hums, his face watching you closely. His hands let go of you and he moves to kiss you again, his tongue feeling a sort of rough it hasn’t before. “Holy shit.” He mutters, guiding you so you’re up against the wall.
You kiss him back, and for what felt like the first time, you didn’t spend an ounce thinking about it, just giving in. “Ed.” You whimper, the heat between your legs now begging you to provide friction.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks, his hands moving roughly up and down your body. “What, baby?”
“Ed. Please.” You beg him, lifting your leg so you can at least feel his boner peeking at your clothed cunt.
“Nuh uh.” He tuts, lightly pushing on the knee. Your leg falls down, as well as your face. “You don’t get off until I tell you to. So, unless I move your leg, or remove your shirt, you just let me kiss you and respond. Got it?”
You gulp, nodding your head. “Yes.” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second. “Eddie?” You ask, making sure he’s okay.
Eddie loves that you can pick up on this, even as he gives you new rules and a new playground to explore. “Do you mind just…doing one thing for me? It kind of stuck with me since you moved in.”
“What?” You ask, your heat still aching, but for the sake of his sanity and for his good graces, you attempt to stand still. (You’re terrible at it.)
“Call me sir?”
You reflect on moving day, the men calling him the name that so obviously gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Apparently, when you commented on it, you made an impact. “Yes, sir.”
“Holy shit.” Eddie hisses, marveling at you now, staring up at him through your eyelashes, waiting to be told what to do. “Now, be a good girl and bend over against the wall.”
“Yes, sir.” You tell him, turning around against the wall.
“No, actually.” He says, taking you by the hand and taking you downstairs. He guides your hips so you’re right in front of the kitchen sink and he bends you over. “Much better.”
He moves your sweats and panties down only to the middle of your thighs, bending on his knees as he admires the slick that has already gathered. “So wet.” He murmurs. You whimper as he barely dips a finger into your entrance, gathering some slick on his finger. He lifts it up to your mouth, “Open.” You do so without hesitation, licking your tongue all over the three knuckles he places in your mouth, tasting your own arousal. Without warning, he takes his finger out from your mouth and wipes it on your shirt. You waited for the praise that never came.
“Oh, now brats get praise for doing what they’re told?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking as he pulls down his pants.
“No, sir.” You mutter, now craving that praise even more.
“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and take this for me.” It’s the only warning you get before he slides his cock in. Your feet are practically planted right next to one another so you start to open your stance to allow him to go in deeper. “Ah.” You freeze in place, realizing your mistake.
He places his hand around your neck and brings it back to him, your neck extended feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and hot. “What did you do wrong?”
“Move without your say so.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, move without your say so, sir.”
“Here. If you ask, and I say yes, or, if I tell you to. That’s it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Eddie smiles down at your blown pupils and half open mouth. He was afraid he jumped in too deep and threw you into the bathwater, but he could feel your pussy tighten around him. You’re so into this. He gently kisses your forehead and lets go of your neck. He slides his cock in even more, and keep in mind, he hasn’t even started to fuck you, yet. He’s barely halfway in your pussy and holds onto your hips as he sees you start to squirm. “You need something baby?”
“Could you move please, sir? Just a little bit? Need it so bad.”
“Should’ve thought of that sooner, then baby.” He musters, sounding bored, though he’s anything but. “Here.” Without warning, Eddie moves his fingers against your clit and has you teetering the edge in mere minutes. You’re so close, you can see the edge. It’s right there.
He stops. He slides in a bit more into you as his mouth gets close to your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “Consequence.” He grunts out, his grip on your hips bruising.
Your knuckles are white as you hold onto the edge of the sink like a vice. It’s like you can taste it. He doesn’t move another inch, his heartbeat against your back and the only audible sound coming from you is your panting in need. Eddie pushes in the rest of his length and a second beautiful sound is added to the mix, one he couldn’t get enough of, even if he tried. Why would he ever try? The sound of your pussy as you gush around him is perfect. “Taking me so well.” Eddie mumbles as he places both of his hands over yours on the sink.
The whimper that leaves your throat forces its way out, your body is tense from doing everything you can not to swivel your hips or back yourself into him. “Baby, you’re so tense.” His arms flex along yours, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth. “Why, hmm?”
“You…you said not to move unless you say so.” You tell him, frustrated because, of course, he knows.
“Or, unless you ask to.” Eddie adds, his chin resting on that spot on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“Sir, can I please move my hips?” You ask him, hoping he isn’t teasing you again.
“Of course, baby.” Eddie’s tone is sweet and endearing. What a goddamn liar he is.
The words are like music to your ears as you start to move your hips, testing the waters. When your movement isn’t met with any punishment, you start moving more frantically, fucking yourself on his cock. Eddie lets out a sigh of content, hands raking down your back to your hips, the palms rough against your bare ass. “Sir, can I please move my feet?”
“See? My good girl is catching on. Of course you can, baby.” He answers, a smile lacing his voice.
Giddily, you move your feet further apart. “Sir, please…please take my clothes off?” You ask, waistband restricting your legs. “Wanna feel you.”
Eddie’s hands move down the apples of your ass to the sweats that started moving down your legs from the impact of your ass that had just started bouncing on him. He kisses your clothed back as you step out of them, kicking the garment aside. You feel the cotton of your shirt move up your back, your arms lifting over your head to assist Eddie as he takes it off. His lips touch the bare skin of your back, his tongue sending ripples down your spine as you shiver under his touch. Eddie grunts as you continue to swivel your hips against him.
“Fuck.” Eddie grunts, watching your naked form wither against him. He can no longer fight the incessant need that’s grown while waiting for you to ask him for movement. His hips start mercilessly pounding into you without a hint of a warning. The moans that fall from your throat are uninhibited and radically full of relief. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for, baby?”
“Mmhmm.” You nod your head, curling over the sink as your arms give out.
Eddie slows down and takes himself out, and your hand moves to push yourself off the sink the littlest bit when you realize your mistake. “You can move.” Eddie smirks, noting your obedience. He’s still standing with his pants down to his calves and his shirt disheveled. He steps out from his pants, tossing the pair toward your pile of clothes. Then he goes down each button on his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to you. As his fingers move over each one, you eye his chest hungrily, aware he’s watching your face while you watch him.
The shirt falls down his arms with a slight flop as the material hits the floor. “Sir…” you gulp, the two of you staring at one another. “Sir, can I kiss you?”
Eddie smirks, nodding his head. You take the two steps toward him and your legs wrap around his hips as you hungrily kiss each other. He turns toward the kitchen island, a small yelp leaving your mouth as the cold granite counter hits the warm flesh of your ass cheeks. He guides his cock into you, slowly pushing into your heat, watching your face as your eyes roll back. “Feel good?”
You nod, a laugh escaping your lips.
“What’s so funny, hmm?” Eddie asks, using his mouth and tongue against your neck.
“Good? Your cock is perfect, Ed.”
“What happened to sir, baby?” He asks, yet continues to rut into you. Your face falters, realizing your mistake. He lets out a laugh, pitying you.
He places his fingertips on your clit, circling slowly, making the heat that’s pooled in your stomach hotter and larger than you could even conceive. “That…that feels so good, Ed.” You tell him, letting your head fall back.
“God, I love when your tight pussy just-” he inhales through his teeth, “sucks me in… Feels like heaven.”
You giggle, the end of it cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Heaven?” You gasp out, Eddie starts to move his fingers faster and matches the pace with his hips.
“If Heaven isn’t fucking this tight pussy all day, then I don’t fucking want it.” Eddie gasps back, a growl forming under his breath.
“Ed, I’m gonna—” the feeling overwhelms you, the edge muting your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body.
Eddie moans as you tighten more around him, a fix he figured impossible. He still rotates on your clit, you release two sharp exhales, the heat too hot, too much. “Too much, Ed.”
“You can do it, baby. I could just edge you more.” He mutters.
You giggle, frightened at the goddamn prospect of it. “No, no, no.”
“No? Well then show me. Let’s feel that pussy make a mess all over my cock.” You came from the words alone, giggles intertwined through your moans. “Oh fuck, good girl,”
“I’m so close, baby.” He moans.
“Gonna fill me up?” You ask him, your legs tight around his hips as you bite at his collar bone.
“Keep doing that.” Eddie begs you, and you happily oblige. Every nip, bite and suck at his collarbone had him gasping over you, the chain of his necklace hanging between you two. Your hands go into his hair, pulling at him and you could probably have a third one at the rate he was going at.
No probably about it, but Eddie’s panting and you’re exhausted.
Even then.
He pushes you down as he cums, your back screaming with cold as it hits the island counter. Eddie collapses on top of you, and you breathe heavily together, both catching your breath. His mouth latches on your neck, kissing a trail to your lips. “Oh, I love you.”
You smile into his kiss, your noodle legs falling from his hips. “I love you.” You find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of sweat and sex invades the kitchen. His chest is covered in sweat and there’s nothing better.
“Join me for a shower?” He asks after you two have a moment of silence, his fingers single handedly causing a brigade of goosebumps down your side as they move in a whisper over your skin. His other hand is wrapped on your left hand, and you don’t realize he’s unconsciously rubbing at your ring finger.
“If I can walk.” You giggle.
Eddie chuckles, pulling himself out of you and giving you a sleepy half smile. “I could always…” He begins, and then he scoops you up over his shoulder to take you up the stairs. You protest for the first minute of it, but when the view is his toned ass as he walks up the stairs, you really couldn’t complain.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
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dorotheataylor · 3 months
Text
Back to December
Pairing- Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
Summary- You broke up with him because you thought he deserved someone better than you. But here you stand, outside his door, apologising for that night, after realising you loved him too much to let him go. Based on Back to December (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift.
Warnings- angstttt but fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, no curses!au, swearing (maybe), slight ooc suguru (hes called clumsy hehe), probably my english lol.
Word count- 2.3k (excluding lyrics)
A/N- atp yall just know how much big of a swiftie I am lol. So here’s a new fic based on another taylor song haha. And from now on I will write for JJK fandom too coz i’m obsessed lmao. Let me know if you find any mistakes coz this isn’t proofread and hope y’all enjoy.
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Knock. Knock. Knock.
You knocked three times on the door of the house you knew all too well as you picked your nails.
Will he want to see you? Will he shout at you? Will he tell you to get lost? Whatever he does, you knew you deserved it.
You stood outside his door impatiently, nerves getting the best of you while you waited for him to open the door. You could hear things falling down from behind it.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was always the clumsy one. One of his things which you missed too much. Your eyes fell on thought of this. Oh how much you wished for a change in your mind back then.
You heard the lock of the door being undone and you started to freak out from inside. Was it a good idea to come here? Maybe. You were about to find out.
“Sorry for the delay. I was caught up-” You heard his voice quiet down when he saw you. God how much you missed his voice. You could listen to his voice every second of the day if possible.
You’ve been good, busier than ever
"Y/N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in your presence on his doorstep, as if he was making sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
The way he said your name, ached your heart. Because it wasn’t filled with love or warmth as before, instead it was more like recognising a stranger.
You took a deep breath before speaking, “long time no see, Suguru.” You smiled slightly.
He couldn’t believe it. He never thought he’d ever see you again after that unfaithful night. The wishes he made to see you every night before he went to bed actually came true. He could actually hear your voice after whole six months. He felt like he was about to cry.
Your guard is up and I know why
All he wanted to do at this moment was to take you in his arms and never let you go again. But he knew he couldn’t. What if you were here to make things even more awful than they already were? He couldn’t handle another heartbreak. So he stood his ground and decided to talk to you in a civil way.
“Come inside. It’ll start s-snowing soon.” He said, mentally cursing himself for stammering as he stepped aside to let you in.
“Thank you.” You muttered before entering his house. The familiar feeling came back to you. The aura and memories of his house, where you had spent countless nights together crashed into your mind like ocean waves. It was overwhelming and you did your best not to burst into tears.
“I’ll bring you something to drink. You can make yourself comfortable till then.” You heard him speak as he quickly walked into the kitchen.
Because the last time you saw me
Is still burned in the back of your mind
You knew he was doing his best to avoid a more than casual conversation with you. Because the last time you had talked, things turned bitter.
You gave me roses and I left them there to die
You still remembered that day like the back of your hand. He had showed up at your house with roses to surprise you and take you out on a surprise date. And you, being a stupid person, ruined it all.
“Here. I didn’t have anything else except for hot chocolate plus I know how much you love it.” He said handing you the cup filled with hot chocolate, his voice becoming a soft mutter at the last part.
‘He still remembers my likes and dislikes.’ You thought as you smiled softly at him and took the cup, your hands brushing a little. Your cheeks immediately turn red as you tried to hide them, while Suguru thanked the gods that his red cheeks won’t be obvious because it’s winter.
I’d go back to December, turn around and make it all right
But you knew him. You were slightly relieved you still had some effects on him like before. How much you regretted leaving him like that. If only you could go back time and make things right.
You took a sip of your hot chocolate before speaking, “thanks for the hot chocolate, Suguru.”
Geto thought he’d just die right now. The way you said his name, it made him want to forget everything that happened and just hold you into his arms, never letting you go again. But he knew he couldn’t do that.
After some long moments of silence, you decided to break it and said, “how have you been, Suguru?”
“I’ve been- good.” He said with a pause in between. He was lying, but he didn’t want you to know his mental state ever since you had left. “What about you?”
You couldn’t repeat his answer for this question, because you knew it was far from the truth. You couldn’t quite recall the last time you slept peacefully. Maybe it was when you were in Suguru’s arms, safe and loved.
Staying up playing back myself leaving
Your mind replayed memories of that unfaithful night, as if trying to torture you for what you had done. It had started to hurt physically. How much you just wanted apologise and hold him into your arms. But you knew you had lost that right. Why? Because of your stupid insecurities.
You had been in a few relationships in the past apart from Geto. And you were always called out for every little thing you did. Whether it was from the way you ate, or the way you talked, they’d make sure to remind you that you weren’t enough and weird, until they all left you alone. This lead you to believe the same, that you were the problem.
That was until you met Suguru. He was everything you could ask in a man. He was charming, a true gentleman, kind and caring boyfriend who never failed to remind you how much you mean to him.
And I think about Summer, all the beautiful times
You often daydreamed about all your memories from your relationship, from sneaking out at night to late night car drives, from celebrating each other’s birthdays to forgetting plans you’d made with your other friends. Your relationship with him was something you read in books about.
You still remembered the day when you realised that he was the guy you were going to marry someday. You had overheard him talking to Gojo about you. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but when he mentioned your name, your ears had perked up. And the way be kept on talking about how amazing you were and how much he loved you, you knew he was the one for you.
Then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept right into my mind
But of course you had to ruin it all. The ‘what if’ thoughts came back to you. The thought of losing him because you weren’t good enough for him, scared you. You had told him about your past relationships, and he always reminded you that you are more than enough for him and he loves you with all of his heart.
Fuck your stupid negativity. You tried to believe him, you really did. But your mind wouldn’t let you. So it lead you to the one thing which you knew you were going to regret for the rest of your life. You let him go. And you hated yourself for it.
You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye
You still remembered the way his face had immediately fallen the moment you spoke those words. He had tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. And you had slammed the door shut on his face.
Geto didn’t stop bombarding your phone with countless texts and missed calls for days. But you didn’t reply to any of them. Until one day he stopped. Maybe he realised that he was just wasting time being after you. Maybe he realised that you were the problem after all.
It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you
Wishing I’d realised what I had when you were mine
You thought you had did the right thing but turns out, you didn’t. You had only made things worse for both of you. Because you know what they say, you only realise the value of something when its gone. And it turns out that you had loved him too much. You couldn’t let him go. Because you had realised that he was too precious for you to let go and you couldn’t survive without him.
So here you were, six months later, on his couch, drinking hot chocolate. You slowly came out of your thoughts and said the only thing which came into your mind, “I’m sorry.”
To say Geto was surprised was an understanding. He expected anything but an apology from you tonight. Blame him for being conscious and hurt. He didn’t say anything, giving the cue to continue.
“I’m so sorry, Suguru.” You started, trying your best not to sob, “I know this is probably the last thing you expect from me and won’t believe me but I mean it. I’m really sorry. I’m such a fucked up person, who always makes things worse, ruins perfectly going on lives of people, who always lives in self-doubts.”
“Y/N, I-”, Geto started to say something but you cut him off before he could say it.
“Please let me finish.” Geto nodded in response.
I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me so right
And how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry
“I miss everything about you, about us. I miss how every morning you didn’t fail to wish me ‘good morning’, I miss how you never forgot to check up on me, I miss how you always found a way to make me feel special. I miss how you always held me close to you whenever I didn’t feel like myself. And most of all, I miss the way you used to love me.” You said, tears now falling uncontrollably from your eyes but you don’t care, determined to make things right.
I’d go back in time and change it but I can’t
So you continued, “thing is that I love you, Suguru Geto. And I love you too much to let you go. I made a stupid move by letting you go when all I wanted to do was hold you into my arms. And I hate myself for it. These past six months, I’ve been terrible. There’s not been a single day where I have not wished for myself to be somehow able to go back in time and make things right, stop myself from leaving. But I know I can’t.” You took a deep breath.
So if the chain is on your door I understand
“I know my actions are not something to be easily forgiven, but I promise to do anything to win your trust and love back. I’m willing to change. I’m willing to make things up with you. I swear that if you take me back again, I will love you right and never let you go. Because I have realised my life is nothing if you’re not in it. Please take me back, Suguru. I promise to prove myself worthy of your love.” You couldn’t speak anything after this, sobs continuously escaping your mouth.
Geto stood there, tears in his eyes as well, contemplating what to say. Your apology had caught him off guard, but he knew you had meant every word. He knew that his life was incomplete without you too.
But this is me swallowing my pride
You didn’t hear him speak for a good few minutes, so you take his silence as rejection. Of course he would reject you. You had hurt him, why would he want to get back with someone like you. You let out a shaky breath as a sigh, disappointment for you escaping through it as you stood up.
Standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night
You attempted to smile through your tears. If this was going to be the last time you see him, might as well say goodbye with a smile.
“I got your answer, Suguru. Thank you for giving me best moments of my life. Maybe I didn’t get to have you back, but at least I can live on with your memories. Maybe I-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt a pair of all too familiar lips on yours, shutting you up.
It turns our freedom ain’t nothing but missing you
You widened your eyes from surprise but immediately shut them as you kissed back, your hands reaching to hug his neck, bringing him closer to you. Suguru wrapped his one arm around your waist and other made its way in your nape, holding you just like he always used to.
Both of you could taste salty tears as you kissed, but weren’t sure who’s they were. All that mattered in that moment was the two of you. You poured all of your love, apprehensions, bottled up feelings for him, regrets into this kiss. He kissed you with same passion. As if your lips were the only thing he needed to survive.
Few moments later, Geto pulled away, foreheads still attached to yours, as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, in these six months, you made me realise that the only thing which can complete me whole is you. Not getting to tell you these was tearing me apart. I thought I had lost you for good, but then you showed up at my door and all those feelings I had for you doubled. I love all of you, Y/N and I always will. And I’m willing to give us another chance, just promise me that you will talk to me next time you have those negative thoughts.”
Your heart melted hearing his words as you nodded, “I promise.”
Suguru ran his hand through your hair as he spoke again, “and I-I’ll need some time to completely forgive you. I hope you understand that. I’m just scared that you’ll leave me again.”
You quickly shook your head, “I mean it this time, Suguru. I’d never even dream of leaving you. I just got you back. And it’s okay. Take your time. I’m willing to wait for you, even if it is for an eternity.”
Suguru smiled at your words and pulled you into his chest as he swayed you slowly, holding you tightly close to him, and you finally felt complete again. You kissed his neck as you returned his gesture, silently promising him and yourself to never give up on him and let him go ever again.
I’d go back to December all the time
________________________________________
Ahhh I loved writing angst sm but it always breaks my heart if it doesn’t end with fluff. Anyways hope y’all liked this and if you want, you can send in request for JJK characters too!
(I might’ve gotten a little carried away at the end but i think it was worth it lmao)
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bellaxgiornata · 10 months
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All These Years [Part 14: "Day Late Friend"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut
Word Count: 5.6k
a/n: I feel like it goes without saying that this one will probably hurt. There's like a tiny bit of comfort in here, but I think everything else vastly outweighs that. Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks
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Sitting on the countertop in your kitchen, you were hunched over your phone scrolling through this morning's current news articles. You were exhausted and your entire body ached from having spent last night at Karen’s place sleeping on her couch because your apartment was entirely empty now. 
Most of the furniture you’d had at your apartment had been donated because you did not want to deal with the hassle of moving all of it across the country. It’s not like you couldn’t afford new things with the massive pay increase you were getting with your new position, even if your new LA apartment’s rent was a bit more expensive than your Hell’s Kitchen apartment had been. Though you’d had movers pack up a handful of your items the other day, along with whatever you had packed in boxes that you hadn’t kept in the luggage bag you were going to check with you on the plane when you left. Your things that were being transported across the country via moving truck were supposed to be at your new place by this afternoon. 
Because today was the day. You had a very long flight to LA soon that you were about to catch–a little over a six hour flight to be exact. You’d ordered a car to take you to the airport just a few minutes ago and now all you were doing was waiting, trying to kill time while you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut. You were going to miss New York and the friends you had here–including Matt, even if you were still incredibly pissed at him. But you'd promised yourself repeatedly that you would make this move no matter what because you needed it.
Last night you’d spent the evening at Karen’s, though Foggy had come over for a bit while you’d been there. But you’d made it clear that you wanted neither of them to invite Matt, still not wanting to see him after what had happened at Josie’s. Foggy had tried to convince you otherwise a few times, urging you to tell Matt it was your last night here because he said Matt had been needing to talk with you. Foggy was practically begging you to give Matt a chance to say goodbye, but you just couldn’t do it. After hearing him just days ago talking about the idea of marrying Erica, and then being so cruel to you in return when you’d pointed out how little he’d thought it all out– especially after everything he’d put you through knowing you’d always been in love with him–you felt he didn’t deserve your time. Why put yourself through more heartache for his sake? You weren’t planning to see him ever again anyway. You figured it was time to look out for yourself.
The whole evening you figured Foggy was shooting Matt texts on and off with the way he’d been on his phone. You’d done your best to ignore it, though part of you felt bad for not offering Matt a chance to see you one last time. He’d probably wanted to apologize for his behavior at Josie’s the other night, but what did it matter? You always caved when it came to Matt; you knew you'd ultimately accept whatever apology he gave you. You loved him–sometimes without a care to yourself and your own feelings. 
And that had to change.
With a sigh you opened another news article, your eyes briefly flicking up towards the time on your phone. It felt like time was dragging on this morning. Your ride to the airport was still another fifteen minutes away and you internally cringed. Admittedly you were getting anxious sitting here with nothing to do but wait and sit in your thoughts. 
A series of frantic knocks came from your apartment door, the noise breaking through the silence in your apartment and drawing your attention from your phone. You frowned, turning and looking at your door all the way across the apartment from where you sat in the kitchen. Who would be stopping by your place right now? Unless it was your overly friendly neighbor next door, the elderly Mrs. Meyers. You’d already told her goodbye three times yesterday, but maybe she’d somehow forgotten again. 
Sliding off the counter, you slipped your phone into your jean pocket and made your way over. But the moment you heard Matt’s voice desperately calling your name from the other side of it, you immediately froze on the spot.
What the hell was Matt doing here?
A mix of emotions immediately flooded you–anger, sadness, heartache, guilt. But worst of all of them was that stupid little sliver of hope. You flinched when you heard him call your name through your door again.
"Please," he begged. "I know you're in there. Just let me talk to you. Please. Give me five minutes. Just–just five minutes, please ."
This wasn't exactly the way you wanted to leave New York. That familiar ache was in your chest again and the feel of it hurt . Arms crossing over your chest, you nervously hugged yourself tight as if that would somehow help keep that ache from spreading through the rest of you.
"Matt, I don't want–"
" Please ," he pleaded.
His voice had sounded so small and weak from behind the door, the sound of it causing your eyes to close. Your hands gripped the fabric of your shirt as you fought the urge to cry. Something you'd become all too familiar with when it came to Matt. 
"There's something you need to know," Matt tried again, his voice filled with emotion. "And I don't–don't want to say it to your door."
With a shuddering exhale, you opened your eyes and tried to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen. Crossing the rest of the way to the door, you gradually unlocked it before pulling it open. Matt stepped back instantly, as if he’d been pressed up against it waiting for you. You were surprised to see his glasses were hanging from the collar of his dark green tee-shirt. Matt always wore them around you lately, so it had been jarring to be immediately greeted with the open vulnerability on his face and in his eyes. 
"You have five minutes," you told him, stepping aside and waving him in. 
And really he did, because your car would be here in probably ten minutes.
Matt made his way inside, a pained look on his face as he stepped past you. You grit your teeth together as you shut the door behind him, turning and squaring your shoulders as you faced him. You didn’t know what to expect, but you had a strong feeling whatever it was he needed to tell you was going to leave you in tears.
Matt said your name again, that vulnerable look on his face. "I am so unbelievably sorry about the other night," he began in a rush, emotion heavy in his voice as he spoke. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, it was wrong. I was out of line. You had every reason to yell at me like that. I deserved it–I deserve worse . I had–had no idea how much you were hurting and how awful what I’d said really was. It was insensitive and stupid of me and I–"
He abruptly cut off, his brows drawing together in what looked like confusion. Your own face slowly contorted into a look of confusion itself at the words in his apology. How could he not know how much you'd been hurting? He knew you loved him, of course him saying those things had been hurtful, especially considering what he’d told you right before about Erica.
Matt's head snapped to the side and your eyes narrowed as you watched him, his curious movements interrupting your thoughts. You watched as his head darted around a few times, his eyes beginning to water as you saw them scanning your completely empty apartment. 
"No," he whispered, his watery gaze returning to you. "No, don't tell me your things are gone already? You've already packed?"
"I'm moving, Matt," you stated flatly, trying to ignore the way that look on his face was affecting you. "Of course my things are gone."
"When?" he pressed. "Saturday? Sunday?"
You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat at the blatant look of panic quickly crossing his features. Why did he look so scared?
"In ten minutes," you answered, tone softening. "I have a car coming to bring me to the airport soon. My flight is at eleven."
Surprise briefly flickered across his face, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead as his lips parted. But then you watched as his face completely crumpled in on itself, tears streaming out of his eyes almost instantly. You stood there in stunned silence, unsure what to make of his reaction. You knew he would be upset about you leaving, but the only time you’d seen Matt cry like this before was when Elektra had broken his heart.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “I thought I had more time. I’m sorry.”
With the sight of Matt standing there and crying before you, you couldn’t fight the tears that had begun to slowly burn in your own eyes. You wiped a hand at them, trying to erase them before they could fall. 
“Foggy said he told you I was leaving,” you pointed out. “You knew I was leaving, Matt. That I had taken a new position and was moving.”
He nodded solemnly, sniffling hard. “He did, but he never told me the day. Just told me I had to see you this morning. And now I–”
You watched in utter confusion as Matt’s sentence broke off right in the middle, his hands coming up as he rubbed the heels of them against his eyes. What sort of a goodbye apology was this? 
“I was wrong all this time,” Matt began, his hands still rubbing at his eyes as if that would make the tears stop. “It’s all my fault. I have spent the past few days going back and trying to make sense of it all– everything . For years. Just–just all of it. Every moment.”
Your brows drew further together on your forehead as you stared back at him. What the hell was he talking about? Why had he come barging over to your apartment spouting nonsense? Why was he so emotional?
“I thought it was Foggy,” he said firmly, his hands lowering from his face. His sightless eyes locked on you as he continued. “I always thought it was Foggy .”
“What?” you asked him. “What’re you talking about, Matt? You thought what was Foggy?”
“The friend you were in love with,” he replied earnestly. “The one you’d told me about a few times at Columbia. The one I knew you were hurting over, that you hadn’t ever gotten over in years . Who you’d cried about that night in the alley when I’d found you drunk and hurting. I always thought it was Foggy .” He winced, shaking his head as he whispered, “I never thought that it was–that it even could be me .”
His words hit you hard and you stood there in absolute shock–Matt thought you’d loved Foggy all of this time? Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him, your brain only wondering one thing.
“ How ?” you asked in confusion. “With what you can do, how did you think I was in love with Foggy?”
Tears were still falling down his cheeks as he took another step towards you, one hand reaching up to wipe them away as his eyes never left you. You still stood frozen on the spot, your arms even further tightening around your chest in response to everything he was telling you. Because what did that mean ? Why had he come here to tell you this? Why now?
“I–I misread so much,” he told you. “When I first ran into you in the library, I picked up on your physical attraction to me–all the telltale signs. And when you gave me your number and agreed to meet up, I thought it meant you liked me. But then that night you came over and Foggy was there–you both hit it off. I tried to give it some time, hoping I was wrong somehow, but it felt like your body was reacting to him . Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me.” Matt shot you a sad, watery smile. “I was still very new to understanding women and relationships, I’ll be honest. I was fresh out of a Catholic orphanage when I went to Columbia. Besides picking up on signs of obvious physical attraction, I’ll admit, I was clueless. And I–I clearly read you very wrong the whole time.”
“But–” you began, pausing to piece together everything yourself. “But Matt, how did you not know? I tried to flirt with you that night when I first came over to your apartment with Foggy and Karen for dinner. It was a terrible attempt but I thought it was pretty fucking obvious. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you heard me at Clinton Church for weeks crying over you. You , Matt, not Foggy. How did it never suddenly click ? How did you never realize you’d gotten it wrong?”
“Because Elektra had often put it into my head that you were always staring at Foggy like you were in love with him,” Matt answered vehemently. “And it’s not like I can see otherwise. I trusted her–and I realized far too late that I shouldn’t have, but I did. Her words about you being in love with him only further proved in my mind that it was true.” His tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips before he continued on in an emotional rush. “And that night you came over more than a year ago, I wasn’t sure if you were flirting with me or not. Something had seemed off with you that day. There was a–a part of me that hoped you were, but I couldn’t be sure. I tried to reach out to you, but you’d distanced yourself from me for weeks after. I figured I’d misunderstood the situation. And…by the time everything happened with Midland Circle, I’d thought you’d already admitted to me that night you found out about my secret that you loved Foggy all this time.” He shrugged weakly, his face further falling. “After that night, I never bothered to question it again.”
Your heart was hammering in your chest so hard you swore you could feel it. Each and every sharp and thundering pound of it. So Matt hadn’t known you’d loved him all this time. Which meant he’d found out when you’d yelled at him the other night at Josie’s. Eyes immediately going wide, you sucked in a breath.
“Holy shit, so you didn’t–” you paused, taking a mortified step back from him, “–you didn’t know? And I–I blurted it out the other night?”
The sad, watery smile was still on Matt’s face as he nodded slowly in response. Something like a strangled cry fell out of you as you spun on your heel, burying your face in your hands. Embarrassment burned through your entire being. Shrinking in on yourself, you wished the floor would just swallow you whole. 
“Why’re you coming here to tell me this?” you cried out, that sharp pain in your chest slamming right into you. “Fuck, this is so incredibly embarrassing , Matt. I thought you knew !”
“Sweetheart,” Matt said softly. 
You stiffened at the term of endearment. He’d called you that once before, that night you’d found out about his big secret. The sound of his footsteps grew nearer but you kept your face buried in your hands.
“I came here to tell you that I have wanted you for years,” he whispered, his voice sounding like it was coming from just behind you. “The first time I stumbled across you it wasn’t at the library–I stumbled on you almost two months before that. On campus. Someone had dropped all their books and papers on the sidewalk and you’d stopped to help them. And I–I don’t know what it was about you, but I couldn’t get your voice and your scent and your kind words out of my head.”
Matt’s hand landed on your shoulder, the touch incredibly light and barely there. It felt like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. As he continued on, your heart only further beat wildly against your ribcage at his words.
“I spent weeks trying to run into you again,” Matt confessed. “Trying to just find you again–any trace of you at all. I couldn’t let you go. That day I met you in the library felt like sheer luck. I had been so stunned myself that you’d appeared to me finally that I’d accidentally ran into you.”
Your hands slowly lowered from your face, your head gradually turning over your shoulder to look at Matt just behind you. That sad smile crossed his lips again when he realized you were looking at him, tears still glistening in his eyes.
“What’s that mean, Matt?” you whispered.
“It means I’ve always wanted you,” he replied just as softly. “You’re the only one I’ve always wanted.”
Goosebumps rose along your arms at his admission. How long had you desperately hoped for him to say those words to you? How many times had you pictured this moment in your head? Wondered what it would feel like for him to want you back? 
“What about Elektra?” you whispered. “And Erica? You were just telling me you wanted to marry her, Matt. How the hell do you say that and then come here and tell me this?”
“I fell hard for Elektra in college,” Matt admitted. “I thought maybe I loved her. She was the only one who knew about that other side of me. What I could do. I thought she–she got me. Understood me. But my feelings for you had never gone away, and I thought maybe I could try to make them disappear with her. But it turned out she didn’t understand me at all, and clearly she saw how much you meant to me because she fed me lies about you loving Foggy.”
“What about the second time you were with her?” you asked, cringing at the question.
Matt immediately shook his head, his sightless eyes still focused along your face. His hand gripped your shoulder a little firmer.
“I was never with her when she came back,” he assured you. “ Never .”
“And Erica?” you pressed.
Your back was still turned towards him as he spoke, but you saw the frown settle onto his face. It felt like your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to explain.
“You had been with Adam for awhile,” he began, hurt clear in his tone. “So I thought maybe you’d finally gotten over Foggy, because you seemed happy with him. And as much as it broke my heart seeing you with Adam, I was truly happy for you. He was a nice guy. He treated you well. And as much as I wished it could’ve been me in his place, I was glad that you weren’t hurting anymore–or at least, I thought you weren’t.” He sighed, his eyes dropping down to the floor as he released your shoulder, his hand running across his forehead instead. “But I knew I’d never have you and I was lonely. That’s when Marci introduced me to Erica and we–we got along. Eventually I developed feelings for her–nothing that even remotely compared to how I feel about you, but I figured I’d never find that again. And things were…admittedly convenient ,” he said with a shameful grimace. “She was often working so she had no clue about me being out most nights as Daredevil. Which meant for once, Daredevil wasn’t an issue in my love life.”
“But Matt–”
“Look, I know it was stupid to think I could continue in a relationship like that, but I was hopeful,” he confessed. “I was lonely and I was hopeful that I’d have time to make things work with a long engagement. And as much as I–I wanted you , I was positive I’d never have you. And what I had with Erica seemed like it–it wouldn’t be so bad as an alternative. So I’d been thinking about proposing and that was why I was hoping to talk to you and Fog.” He shrugged a shoulder lightly, a deep frown on his face. “I was hoping both of you would help me look at things realistically, because you’re both my best friends. You know me.”
Your eyes narrowed at Matt as you finally turned partially towards him. “Then why did you get angry at me when I told you how ridiculous it all sounded?” you asked. 
“Because I could feel your anger,” he whispered. “And I didn’t understand it. I got defensive because it–it hurt hearing you say those things to me. Because I have–have loved you for so long and you were the one I wanted and couldn’t have. But I shouldn't have said those things to you in anger and I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I was hurt and I was stupid and I reacted without thinking.” His lips pressed together, the tears that had been glistening in his eyes quickly spilling forth. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so much over the years.”
You were struck speechless, still stuck on the part where he’d admitted to loving you. Matt was in love with you?
“I ended things with her, too,” he continued, the tears still falling. “The first chance I got after that night. Because I want you.”
Almost as if in slow motion you watched as Matt’s hand reached up, very carefully reaching out to gently cradle your cheek in the palm of his hand. You could feel your entire body trembling at the affectionate touch–it was so far from friendly. It reminded you of the night you’d been with him after graduation when he’d touched you so similarly. You understood now what had almost happened that night, and the fact that nothing had only added to the heartache. Because you were quickly realizing that you both had come close to admitting the truth so many times before only to end up here–with years wasted and hearts hurting.
“I want you,” he breathed out, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. His eyes were slowly scanning your face, as if somehow committing you to memory in his own way as his lips pulled into that sad smile again. "I've only ever wanted you, sweetheart."
A sob fell out of you as you turned fully towards him, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist and drawing yourself into him without a thought. Matt was quick to encircle his own arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly to the front of himself as you felt him burying his face into your hair. Your fingers clawed at his back through the thin fabric of his tee-shirt, desperately holding onto him as you cried. From the pocket of your jeans, you heard your phone alert you to a notification you'd received. No doubt it was the car you’d ordered finally arriving, ready to bring you to the airport. That thought only had you clinging tighter to Matt as you sobbed against his chest.
“Why did you wait so long?” you cried out, face buried into his chest. “Why now, Matt? Why did you have to tell me all of this when I'm leaving?”
“I’m sorry,” he replied, voice breaking on the apology. “I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes snapped shut tight, tears soaking the front of his shirt. Your nails were digging into Matt’s back, clawing at him with how hopelessly you tried to hang on to him. 
“I–I want to ask you to stay,” he whispered, his face still buried into your hair where his tears were dampening the strands. “I want to beg you to. Tell you I would do anything to keep you here–because I would. Happily. Ten times over. But I know I have no right to ask that of you, sweetheart.”
"You're right," you breathed out, your body molding itself to the front of him. "You don't."
You hated that you'd found out Matt had loved you all of this time at this exact moment instead of weeks ago–months or even years ago when things could have gone differently. Because you had already accepted that job and you'd already gotten that apartment. You'd repeatedly told yourself you were leaving and doing this for yourself no matter what. And Matt coming here telling you all of this right now, as much as it made you want him even more because you now knew your feelings were returned, didn't change the fact that he had just ended a relationship with a woman he had considered proposing to only days ago. That he'd let you go on believing he was dead for months not that long ago–and that hadn't stopped hurting even if you'd forgiven him for it. And it certainly didn't change the fact that you had cried over him for years.
You'd needed a change. You needed time away. You needed space to figure things out for yourself without the constant heartache.
"Matt, I–" your eyes tightened further closed, tears still coming as your fingers desperately gripped his back, "–I have to do this. I have to move to LA. For me.” Your face remained pressed to his firm chest as you spoke, pausing just long enough to breathe in that familiar clean scent of him. You hoped you’d never truly forget it. “You just ended things with Erica days ago,” you continued quietly. “This–this isn't how I would want to start things with you. It's not right."
You heard him inhale a shuddering breath, his mouth beside your ear as he did. His hands slid down to wrap firmly around your back, his palms pressing you securely to himself. You could feel his own fingers digging into you through your shirt, his own desperate need to keep you close only making your tears fall faster. In that moment, you knew he’d been hurting just as much as you always had been. Somehow you could feel it in the tears of his that fell, mingling with yours along your skin, and the sharp, ragged breaths he was clearly trying to control. 
"I know," he whispered, voice strained. “You deserve better.”
Reluctantly you slowly pulled away from him, your heart twisting in your chest at the absolute broken state of Matt before you. With a loud sniffle, you pulled your phone from your pocket and saw that you did have a notification for the car you’d called. You responded to it, pressing your trembling lips firmly together as you tried to compose yourself. You needed to leave or you’d miss your flight.
“The car is here to take me to the airport,” you whispered, slipping your phone back into your pocket before glancing up at Matt. “I–I have to go, Matty.”
Matt nodded, his hands roughly wiping at his eyes. “Can I walk you out?” he asked. “Please?”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just need to grab my bag.”
Walking past Matt, you made your way towards your kitchen to the lone piece of luggage that was sitting right where you’d left it. You slid the handle of it out before turning and shuffling your way across the room and back over to Matt. He was clearly trying to take the moment to compose himself, but he didn’t seem very successful with the way his tears were still falling. When you neared him, he timidly held out a hand towards you and you paused, staring at it as your heart unsteadily beat in your chest. A second later you hesitantly reached out, slipping your hand into his. Matt’s face momentarily lit up as he tried to smile at you, his large hand reassuringly squeezing yours.
You sent him a small smile in return before you guided the pair of you out of your apartment, leaving it for the last time. The sound of the door closing behind you both was louder and harsher than usual as you led Matt down the hall and towards the elevators. Neither of you said anything as you waited for it to reach your floor, and neither of you said anything as you both stepped inside. Though as the elevator doors slid closed, Matt’s fingers entwined with yours, as if he was finding any way he could to hold onto you just a bit tighter for just a bit longer. Somehow that hurt, too.
Gradually the elevator lowered until it reached the lobby and you stepped out, your stomach roiling with nerves at the final goodbye that you could feel fast approaching. In silence you led him over towards the car that was waiting for you, politely greeting the driver who took your bag from you and stowed it in the trunk of the car. As they were getting back into the driver’s side, you finally turned and focused on Matt, your hand still enjoined with his.
The sight of him alone had your heart breaking–he still looked just as broken as that day you’d found him crying over Elektra. Except now it was because of you . Instantly the tears began streaming down your face and briefly you wondered how the hell you had a single tear left to shed after all of this time. Matt tried his best to smile at you, his other hand reaching up to wipe away your tears as they continued to fall. 
“Please don’t cry, sweetheart,” Matt said gently, the calloused pad of his thumb still wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Matty. For hurting you.”
Matt shook his head, that sad smile still lingering along his lips. “Don’t apologize,” he whispered. “If this is what you need, if it’ll make you happy, then I–I support you. Even if it hurts. All I want is to know you’re happy.” His thumb slid down, lightly brushing beside the corner of your lips as his sad eyes focused there. “But I’m–I’m sorry my timing with telling you how I felt was so terrible. I should have told you on graduation night like I planned to. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now.”
“You couldn’t have known,” you whispered. 
Matt grimaced briefly, the corner of his mouth turning downward. “Your driver sounds irritated. I should probably uh, let you go,” he said, the last word coming out a little choked.
Stepping towards Matt, you once again wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face against the damp spot your tears had created on his tee-shirt. His own arms immediately held you to him again, his face now burying into the side of your neck. The pair of you stayed like that for a long moment, neither of you clearly wanting to let go. Your eyes closed and you relaxed into him, breathing in the scent of him. If you pushed aside what was happening right now, you could feel whatever it was you’d always felt when you hugged Matt washing over you. That warm, comforting feeling you’d told Foggy about before. The feeling you always experienced when you hugged Matt. You knew what it was now.
He felt like home.
Fresh tears welled in your eyes as Matt slowly pulled away from you, your arms once again coming to wrap tight around your chest as if that alone would keep you from shattering to pieces on the sidewalk. 
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you admitted weakly.
He reached a hand out, tucking some hair behind your ear as his watery gaze focused along your chin.
“Then don’t,” he replied softly. “I’ll see you again another time, sweetheart.”
His fingers lingered along your cheek, once again lightly wiping away the tears that were falling. Your heart clenched in your chest when you finally found the nerve to speak.
“I’ll miss you, Matty,” you confessed. 
“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered, his hand falling from your face.
You stood there for a few seconds longer, trying to commit the memory of Matt to your mind. You didn’t want to forget him. Truthfully you didn’t want to leave him. Though eventually you finally turned and opened the car door, slipping into the backseat. You pulled the door shut after yourself, confirming with the driver that you were heading to the airport as you put your seatbelt on. Your attention shifted back to Matt out of the window to where he was standing on the sidewalk. His glasses were back on his face as he began unfolding the cane he’d had folded up in his back pocket. 
When the car finally pulled out into traffic, your eyes remained on Matt through the back window. His face was turned towards you as the car drove away, and you swore you saw his lips moving as if he’d said something, though you couldn’t make out what. You tried to remind yourself internally why you were doing this as the sight of Matt standing on the edge of the sidewalk slowly became harder and harder to see. But when he finally was entirely out of your view, you felt something sharp hit you right in the chest. Raising a hand up, you absently rubbed at the spot just over your heart, eyes still focused out of the back window as tears filled them yet again.
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[END NOTES]
End notes again, because I feel like y'all need them. Again.
Matt finally confessed!! He explained quite a bit to Reader but inevitably, she left to LA. I mean, she'd already accepted the job and had no place to stay in Hell's Kitchen for starters, but also, she did really need to take a step away from Matt and try to live her life. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to Reader to try to jump into a relationship with Matt literally days after he'd been having a discussion about possibly proposing to someone else. So Reader is leaving anyway. And there was NO KISS because honestly, I feel like kissing in that moment would just hurt both of them even more. So you're still going to be waiting on that. But I will say the beginnings of comfort will probably start after the next installment for those of you literally hanging by a thread reading this. But there will be a happy ending to this fic so things will slowly begin to turn around soon!
But now for real, I need to focus on my other fics this week. Preferably things that are less angsty like FFTD.
407 notes · View notes
lvis44 · 11 months
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Sweet Escape Pt. 8 // LH44
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Lewis Hamilton x Y/N
Warnings: Swearing, 18+ (Smut and Dirty Talk), Alcohol, Angst, Emotional Dilemmas, PDA, Secrecy, Not Edited
Word Count: 8.5k+
Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
Notes: We have reached our final destination (well kind of, there will still be an epilogue). This is the final part of Sweet Escape. Thank you all so much for all the love, I'm so glad that you guys have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! I will be back soon with another little daydream. I love you all and enjoy the conclusion to our roller coaster.
I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx
Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven
You can’t risk losing Lewis. 
As you step out of the shower you feel a surge of anxiety and power wash over you. How the hell are you supposed to talk to him? It doesn’t take long before you hear him coming down the hall, greeting Daniel on the way, evidently just back from his run. You decide to bite the bullet, there’s no point in wasting time. You hear his door close and immediately make your way out of your own. Your hair is still wet and your attire is mismatched, throwing short on the second you heard him in the hallway. You don’t particularly care if anyone hears you or sees you, you need to get this out before you continue to think about it and change your mind. You’ve gone back and forth over this enough times, you need to finally make your thoughts known. You knock on his door, hoping he can hear you. Thankfully it only takes a moment before his door swings open, he’s standing there covered in sweat, his breathing still slightly labored, just having got back from his run. 
“Y/N?” He seems slightly confused at your sudden intrusion, “Is everything okay?”
You don’t answer his question just pushing past his sticky body and into his bedroom, it’s been a while since you were last in here, today will be a much different outcome. You’re going to stand your ground. He doesn’t ask another question just accepting that you must need to talk, moving to push his door shut.
“Why did you take me to see Marina and Leon?” You blurt out the second his door is closed.
He hesitates for a moment, a question written across his face, “I don’t know, I thought it would be good for Leon to meet someone like you, and Marina had about a billion questions about you so, I don’t know, it just felt right.”
“Why have you told Marina about me?” You ask your next question, not really waiting to process what he’s saying.
“Because I care about you, I’m constantly thinking about you, and I like to tell her about important things in my life. You’re an important thing in my life.” He shrugs as if it shouldn’t even be a question.
“What about us has ever made you think that a relationship between the two of us would even ever work?” You ask him, feeling your heart clench at his words but needing to get all your questions out as quickly as possible.
“I kind of thought I made that clear,” He starts softly, unsure if you’ll really let him get all of his thoughts out, “but, I guess to try to explain it, it’s everything that you do, everything I feel when I’m around you. Charlotte yelled at me a few days ago, and rightfully so, about constantly acting like your boyfriend with none of the commitment or intimacy, that it’s not fair to either of us, not fair to you. Y/N, I am truly happy every second I spend with you, you’re an absolute breath of fresh air, a respite, the idea of coming home to someone like that warms my soul. I have spent so much time wandering around, looking for a place to land and looking in all of the wrong places, evidently. I don’t want to do that anymore, not when everything I’ve always wanted and needed is right in front of me. I’ve been single for a long time, but I know what this feels like, I’ve just never felt it like this before. We’re already halfway there, I don’t see why taking the next step would be bad for either of us.”
He’s just standing in the middle of his room, keeping a good distance from you, trying his best to bore his speech into your brain. It annoys you how good he can look even after a run. When most people would look like a drowned rat with the amount of sweat covering his body, he looks like he’s shining, the sweat somehow making every muscular dip and tattoo even more center stage than usual. You stare at him for a moment, letting his rant twist your heart in ways you didn’t know it could, swallowing down tears as you hear just how much the man in front of you truly cares. You hate that everything he has said is right.
“Thank you again for trusting me with meeting Leon, and Marina, I’m honored you let me into that part of your life.” You say, your voice thick with emotion.
You can see his face contort, confused at both your lack of proper response and your subject change, he imagines it’s because you’re trying to swerve away from the topic, but he just nods softly, “Of course, I trust with you with my life, with my heart, with everything. There’s no one I would rather he meet.”
“I don’t want to lose you Lewis.” You say firmly, “I can’t lose you, that’s why us trying this doesn’t make sense.” Your words are rushed and your brain is speeding a mile a minute, needing to get everything out into the air.
You can visibly see him deflate, his face faltering, an audible sigh coming from him.
“Y/N, sweetheart, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this but you will never lose me, not in a million years. Sure things may change, but that’s the trajectory of life, regardless of what you and I do, things are destined to change, it’s evolution. Try thinking of it in the sense that you already have me, forever, for better or worse, but now I want to give you more of me, just you. We have each other now, but it could be so much more, and somehow I think even better. Tell me you don’t think about how nice it would be to fall asleep next to each other at night. When I hug you I can feel you melt into me, I fucking relish in it, that’s why I never pull away, that could be our normal, how we fall asleep, how we cuddle and watch some stupid fucking show. Think about how good we could make each other feel, emotionally, physically, fuck, on levels we don’t even know exist yet. I want this with you, I adore you and everything about you, there’s absolutely nothing in my mind that questions you and I being a good couple. We’ve already got the platonic relationship down, we know each other so fucking well, better than most people who have been married for twenty god damn years, we have a head start. Everyone always says that your partner should end up being your best friend, we already did that, so here I am, you best friend, telling you I want to be your partner, and fuck I hope you hear me.”
He lets out a deep sigh as he finishes his rant, you can tell he’s had that bottled within him for a while. You let him speak, not needing to hear it but wanting to, your mind is already made up, it doesn’t really matter what he says at this point. You’re quite amazed by the outpouring of emotions you’re receiving from him, not used to him letting himself truly be vulnerable. He looks tired and you can tell that if he were a normal man he would be close to giving up, but he’s not a normal man and ‘giving up’ is nowhere in his vocabulary. Lewis is competitive and strives to win, he doesn’t back down, especially when it’s truly important to him. That alone is part of the reason that you feel confident in your decision.
“So, if we’re going to do this, some things need to be made very clear.” You continue after his rant, not having the ability to even begin to process everything he just said. You need to charge ahead, his words only fueling your confidence in your decision.
You can tell he doesn’t quite believe the words that have just left your mouth but he does his best to restrain from making you repeat them. He stays silent, nodding obediently, but you can see the corner of his lips twitching, begging to break into the largest smile known to man.
“First, it’s only you and I in this relationship, your playboy fuckboy antics, they need to be thrown out the window immediately.” You begin the list that had played over and over in your head over the last few hours, “Second, there always needs to be communication, on both of our parts, no fucking games, no fucking secrets, honesty and communication.”
He’s nodding along eagerly, you almost worry that he’s not listening but you can’t stop yourself to reprimand him.
“Third,” You continue, “we take this slow. I am not and will never be one of your play things. You will respect me and my limits and we’re not rushing into anything, you need to prove yourself, I’m still a little bit upset with you. Fourth, jesus christ, for the love of god, please get tested, I don’t need every bitch from every corner of the universe inside of me. Got it?”
He giggles at your last demand but nods nonetheless.
“Done, done, done, and already done.” He agrees, no hesitation.
“Lewis, I need this to work, because I’m not sure I would be able to function without you at this point.” You sigh, letting your final thought out.
He nods once again, “Agreed,” He lets out a content sigh, “So is that you saying you’ll do this with me? You’ll be mine, all mine?” His voice is hesitant but eager as he asks the question, slowly making his way toward you.
“Only if you’ll be mine and only mine.” You say, your voice quieting down as he approaches you.
“In a heartbeat babe.” His voice is only above a whisper but his eyes are boring down into yours, making you anxious and giddy all at once.
“Okay, last demand, properly ask me out.” Your lips lose your internal battle as they spread across your face into a wide smirk, needing to make him work for it one last time. It’s cruel, really, with how much he has already put into winning you over, but you need him to do it. One last little bit of confidence that this is all real.
“Y/N Y/L/N, will you please be my girlfriend? All mine, forever?” His smile has now broken over his face, unable to contain it as he stands only a few inches from you. He laughs gently through his words, amused by your request but willing to do whatever you need to finally be his. He’s smiling in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, it's a whole new level of boyish excitement that makes your heart swell.
“Lewis Hamilton, I would be absolutely honored.” Within seconds of the words leaving your lips he has wrapped you in a large bear hug, picking you up off the ground, making you squeal.
“Lewis,” You whine through laughter, “you’re so fucking sweaty, I just showered.”
“This is what you just signed up for baby girl.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss against your head. You're rather confident that your name has already been long forgotten, pet names now taking its place.
“Okay, I take it back, I regret my decision.” You laugh playfully, his beard tickling you as he continues his assault of kisses that have now made their way to your cheek.
“Nope, no take backs.” He giggles against your cheek, placing you back down on the floor.
When he finally releases his grip from you his hands quickly find your cheeks, cupping your smiling face in his large hands.
“So beautiful, and all mine.” He mutters as if to himself.
“All yours.” You whisper back, making his smile even bigger if possible.
“I know you said we have to take this slow,” He starts, making you raise an eyebrow at him, “but can I please kiss you?”
You don’t have it anywhere in you to say no, all you can do is bite your lip with a nod, eagerly awaiting his lips on yours. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the permission you just granted him. You expected the kiss to be harsh, almost messy from his excitement, but it was far from it. He leans in to you slowly, almost cautiously before connecting his lips with yours. You both sigh the moment you’re finally in contact. His lips are so soft and his large hands cupped around your cheek make you feel small, all you can do is melt into him. You bring your arms up around his sticky neck, still sweatier than you would normally find yourself being okay with. He keeps the kiss gentle but moves one arm to snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him as if there’s no possibility you could ever be close enough. He doesn’t move to deepen the kiss, his tongue never appears, he barely even moves, just enjoying the fact that you’re finally connected, even in the most simple of ways. When he finally pulls away you find yourself wanting to chase his lips, not having had quite enough just yet. He notices the involuntary reaction, chuckling slightly as he rests his forehead on yours. You place your hands on his chest, enjoying the firmness under your palms, realizing that it’s all yours to enjoy now. You almost go to take back your statement about taking it slow but the last logical brain cell you have stops you.
“We have to figure out how to make this work Lewis.” You whisper, not wanting to disrupt the peace in between you two.
“We will, I would never forgive myself if I let you go.” He says, his voice just as quiet.
“Do we tell everyone?” You ask, not sure what to do next, especially when trapped in a house together.
“We can wait, or do whatever feels natural. As long as we know.” He eases your mind, letting you know there’s no pressure.
You nod, grateful you don’t feel the need to go announce it to the whole house.
“Now go take a shower so I can have a much less disgusting hug.” You laugh, pushing against his chest.
“You liked it.” He joins your laughter, slowly parting from you.
“Shower.” You repeat, pointing toward the door of the bathroom.
“You can always join.” He playfully winks.
“Slow, Lewis, we’re taking it slow.” You reprimand him, feeling yourself blush but still laughing.
“I’ll be quick, be ready with open arms.” He flashes you a smile, disappearing into the bathroom.
You’re in the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner when Lewis finally comes out of his room, freshly showered and looking so damn cuddly in a large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It will forever bother you that even in his pajamas he manages to look better than the entire population. Everyone else is out on the patio, setting the table and making drinks.
“I thought I was getting a hug when I got out of the shower, maybe another kiss.” Lewis whispers to you, startling you when his voice comes from so close behind you.
He chuckles when he notices you jump, stepping away from you only slightly to take a spot next to you at the counter, grabbing a knife and cutting up some veggies. You can’t help but watch as his hand grips the stupid cucumber, something that should not affect you, yet it does.
You’re looking at the way the veins in his hands flex as he adjusts his grip as you mutter to him with a smirk, “Behave.”
“I don’t know, I feel like I was promised a reward that I didn’t get.” He says quietly, shrugging his shoulders. He’s standing close enough to you that you can feel the movement.
“I think you got plenty of a reward for one day. I mean hey, you got me.” You taunt him, your voice staying just as low.
“Oh, how right you are.” He sighs, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple before moving past you to the fridge.
“Look who finally showed up to help.” Charlotte’s voice comes through the kitchen as she walks in the back doors.
“Did you want my sweaty ass making your dinner?” Lewis shoots back at her.
Her face scrunches up at the thought.
“Didn’t think so.” He says, his attention already turned back to the fridge in hunt of something.
You can’t help but giggle, feeling as though you are truly on cloud nine. Nothing could have prepared you for the absolute ecstasy that would be coursing through your body after making that man yours, or really you should say allowing yourself to be his, he truly did all the heavy lifting.
“What’s so funny? You know how nasty he is after a run.” Charlotte shoots you a look, almost asking you to back her up.
You just laugh, thinking about the fact that you were wrapped around his sweaty body only twenty minutes ago.
“Whatever, I’m gonna go see if I can find a board game or something for later.” Charlotte announces, heading off toward the other side of a house where you know there is a still unused game room. You’d seen it for only a few minutes, Miles and Lewis having spent a few hours playing on the various arcade games, their inner child truly coming out.
Lewis was now walking back over to you, his hands full of various ingredients he had gathered. You went to attempt to take some of them but he just tutted, swatting your hand away.
“I got this, you just sit over there and look pretty, keep me entertained.” He nodded his head over toward the kitchen island, a smirk on his face.
“I hope you know, my way of keeping you entertained will most likely be me making fun of your culinary skills.” You tell him, not arguing with him doing all the work, as you happily perch yourself on one of the stools. You can’t help but enjoy the view. He takes his cutting board off the counter and moves it to the island, making sure he’s facing you so he can glance at you every once in a while.
“Whatever makes you happy, love.” He chuckles, not looking up at you as he gets to chopping.
Your stomach flips at the pet name, he’s called you love before but to your knowledge it always just been in a polite british way. Now it feels different, you want to  assume it’s because he’s all the sudden your boyfriend, but in reality you know it’s because of just how much you care for the man standing in front of you. You sit in silence for a few moments, just admiring how beautiful he is, truly looking like a god while he does the most mundane tasks. You know you’re done for.
“You’re pretty quiet over there, where the critique?” Lewis teases you, noting your silence.
“Well, first of all I’m just admiring my view,” You admit, “Second of all, you unfortunately seem to be a half decent cook.”
“Babe, I don’t know if my ego can take all this flattery.” He laughs.
“Don’t get used to it, I’m simply in a strangely good mood.” You shrug, laughing yourself.
“I would hope you’d be in a good mood, big shit happened today.” He looks at you with a soft playful smile. You can tell he’s being sincere under his teasing tone.
Before you can respond your friends are making their way into the kitchen, offering to help with dinner before being shooed away by Lewis who is seemingly on his own mission. You can’t help but laugh, noting that he gives Charlotte a run for her money when it comes to being in control of the kitchen. You can’t help but be a tad bit annoyed at the intrusion, not that anyone even knows they were interrupting anything, and in reality, they weren’t. You were just enjoying your one on one time being playful with Lewis in your newfound status after having been at odds with him for so long. Much to your dismay, Lewis paid much less attention to you while your friends were around. You understood it, he was keeping things normal between the two of you, at least outwardly, he was respecting your anxiety of everyone finding out that something had changed between you.
The evening carried on happily and calmly. You discovered that when left on his own in the kitchen, Lewis was actually quite a good cook, you would have to make him cook for you another time, just you. Charlotte had found Monopoly somewhere in the house, which you promptly lost at, Lewis then insisting that you team up. No one batted an eye at it other than Charlotte, she had shot you a questioning look, wordlessly asking if the two of you were okay. You had only nodded, a soft smile on your face. She had seemed content enough with that, letting you be for the rest of the evening. By the time that you were headed to bed you were full of a joy you hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. Lewis had very discreetly managed to give you a kiss on the cheek and a small hug before you headed to bed, whispering something about caching in on your promise from earlier. As you fell asleep you couldn’t help but feel like all of your stars had finally aligned in the most perfect way, even if you had no idea what was in store for your future.
Your final days of vacation were here, a few days prior you would have wished they would come and go as quick as possible but now, waking up in this new chapter of your life, you wished you could bottle the next few days and never let them go. The morning was lazy, lying in the sun after breakfast before deciding to head down to the beach to do the exact same thing, only with even more gorgeous views. From where you were seated, you already had the best view you could possibly ask for. Lewis was off in the side yard, fully immersed in a full body workout. You were admiring him from a distance, pretending to read your book, but your eyes kept wandering over to his glistening back and bulging biceps as he did effortless push-ups, it would have been criminal not to watch. You knew that he knew you were watching him, he had readjusted specifically to give you a better view, the cocky bastard. When everyone had gone inside to get ready, you stayed back, wanting even just a second alone with him. The second everyone was indoors you made your way over to him, sitting criss crossed on the ground in front of where he was doing sit ups now. One rep he sat up and gave you a wide smile before disappearing again, making you giggle, next rep his eyes flicked over to the door, third rep he came up and grabbed your cheeks, relaxing his form as he pulled your face to his, hesitating for only a moment before firmly planting his lips on yours. Once again he kept it pg but it still felt like heaven on earth. You giggled as you pulled away, feeling like a teenager who had just had her first kiss, you couldn’t help but feel that this is how it would always be with Lewis.
“So what did I hear? Are we headed down to the beach?” He asked, keeping his face rather close to yours, closer than it should be for a friend.
“Yeah, I was just coming over to tell you.” You say, blatantly lying as to why you had approached him.
“Mmmhmmm…” He smirked, catching your lie in an instant.
“Okay, maybe not.” You admitted, leaning in to peck his lips once more. He didn’t let that happen though as he made sure you stayed in place much longer than you had intended, not that you minded in the least bit. 
“I should go shower then.” He mumbled as he finally pulled away, moving to stand
“There’s no point, just go jump in the ocean.” You said, making him stay seated in front of you.
“I’m beginning to think that you like me when I’m sweaty,” He smirked before leaning in to place a kiss to your jaw, “and I have to say, I can think of a few ways you could help me work up a sweat.”
You felt your cheeks heat up in an instant, trying to push away the mental images of him above you, his chest glistening. You knew he could tell just how he had affected you when you saw the look on his face when he pulled away.
“Well, I guess I’ll just go put on some trunks then.” He said with a wink as he finally got up to his feet, you not having any ability to stop him right now.
Looking up at him from your spot on the ground as he stood above you had a whole new slew of thoughts rushing through your head. You were a horny mess. The smirk on his face was all knowing and you wanted desperately to wipe it off his face, but there was no use, he was dead on.
You made sure to stay behind and wait for Lewis, who had ended up insisting on showering, as everyone else made their way down to the beach. You were at the kitchen island, scrolling through your phone, when he finally came out. You were wearing one of your bikinis, one you had worn already on the trip, back when he and Miles had tried to teach you to surf. His hands were on your waist before you even knew he was in the room. 
“Waiting for me, beautiful?” His head was nuzzled into your neck, not trying anything, just enjoying the closeness.
You lightly pushed him away, spinning on the stool to face him. On instinct you widened your legs, allowing him to step between them so he could be closer to you, bad idea. Your breath hitched when you realized what you had just done, feeling him just brush up against you. You could tell that he wasn’t trying to grind against you or anything, it was just a casualty of trying to get closer to you, but that didn’t make it affect you any less.
“Um, yeah, wanted to walk down with you.” You half mumble, your brain jumbled.
He smiled softly, “Everyone gone?”
All you could do was nod.
“Good.” He let out a heavy breath, pulling your cheeks to press your lips together.
He was slightly more explorative this time and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The kiss was nothing like the first time he had kissed you, messy and open mouthed, but he slightly toyed with your bottom lip, running his tongue along it gently. You ever so slightly opened your mouth, allowing him the small bit of access he so desperately wanted. Nothing but the tips of your tongues met, ever so slightly dancing across each other as you both tested the waters. When he finally pulled away he made sure to leave multiple pecks to your lips, leaving you happily satisfied yet still wanting more. You weren’t quite sure anything would ever be enough with Lewis.
He stepped away, trying to discreetly adjust himself, making you laugh. He sent you a look before righting himself as if nothing had happened. He extended his hand to you, pulling you off the barstool as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Walking hand in hand with him, slightly leaning your weight against him, felt like the most natural thing in the world. You couldn’t help but admire him, almost tripping a few times on your way down the path, making him chuckle. With a towel slung over one shoulder, his swim trunks low on his hips, and a dark pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, he looked perfect, absolutely effortless.
You had parted ways once you got to your friends, still trying your very best to stay discreet. That lasted only about a half hour, the second Lewis had decided he wanted to get in the water he was dragging you along with him. Very much like the last time, he was throwing you into the water almost immediately. His smile was wide as he watched you curse him out. As if he had forgotten that your friends were back on the beach, he grabbed you and pulled you towards where he was floating in the water. You could touch the bottom but only on your tiptoes and you could tell that he had opted to tread water, always staying active. He wrapped your legs around his hips, keeping you afloat with him.
“Well hello there.” You laughed at his sudden move.
“Hello.” He chuckled, nuzzling into your neck.
“Lew, what are you doing?” You asked semi cautiously, enjoying him but knowing that if anyone decided to sit up from their towel they would immediately see you being evidently more than friends.
“Enjoying being in the Caribbean Sea with my girl. I’m finally really enjoying vacation.” His words were slightly muffled as his lips moved against your neck.
“Babe, everyone can see us right now.” You whispered, feeling like you were trying to keep a secret even from the fish in the ocean.
He let out a content humm at the use of your pet name, placing a kiss to your throat, “We said whatever feels natural right? This feels natural. Fuck them, let’s just enjoy this.”
He pulled away, his arm readjusting its grip around your waist. You could feel the strength in his muscles and it made your stomach clench, thinking about him holding you in so many other ways. You just stared at him for a moment, contemplating everything.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked sincerely, noticing the torn look on your face.
You thought about it for only a moment longer, deciding being in his arms was much too good to waste in order to keep a secret, “Nope, you’re right, fuck ‘em.”
His smile was wide as you let yourself truly wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in to place a kiss against his smile. He could barely kiss you back, too happy to use his mouth for anything but the biggest grin you could imagine.
“I’m really happy.” You whispered to him, only a few centimeters from his lips.
“I am too baby, I am too.” He shook his head almost in disbelief.
You have no idea how long the two of you spent bobbing around in the water, but it was long enough that your friends had either gotten sick of the sun or sick of the PDA, possibly both.
“Hey,” Miles yelled, “we’re headed to the house, you guys coming or are you gonna keep fucking eachother in the ocean?”
You laughed, hiding your face in Lewis’ shoulder as he flipped Miles off. You were rather surprised at how casual Miles seemed about it, maybe he was expecting it, maybe he had known how Lewis felt longer than you had, regardless you were grateful that it didn’t seem like a big deal.
“Be up soon.” Lewis yelled back, Miles returning his one finger salute.
You stayed wrapped around each other only a little while longer as you enjoyed the serenity of being with your person in the most beautiful of places. No talking was needed as you basked in the sound of nature and peace surrounding you. Your heart felt whole, in a way it hadn’t in quite some time. You were shocked at how quickly you had fallen into a new cycle with Lewis, but you didn’t mind one bit.
. . . 
“I swear to god if I have to hear you two fuck, I might lose my shit.” Miles said, his face showing nothing but seriousness as you and Lewis both burst out laughing.
After you had made your way back to the house, Lewis had thrown caution to the wind, promptly pulling you down into his lap as you came out onto the patio after changing. You hadn’t fought him on it, equally as content as he was and fully aware everyone had already seen you in the water. The only problem was now they were close enough to tease you. The second Charlotte saw him do it she squealed.
“Ah please tell me my two favorite people have finally realized that they need to get married and have kids?” She had clapped, her voice shrill with excitement.
“Woah, slow down there Char’, she became my girlfriend yesterday, give us a damn minute.” Lewis had chuckled, seemingly somewhat prepared for Charlotte's antics.
“Hey now, two favorite people?” Miles had complained, giving Charlotte a playfully offended look.
“Okay sorry, two of my favorite people.” She corrected herself, rolling her eyes.
“I’m just worried I’m never gonna see you two again, gonna be far too obsessed with each other to ever see the light of day again. Also hold up, girlfriend?” Miles had carried on.
“You speaking from experience?” Steph teased him, “Is Lewis that good?”
“Oh fuck off,” He didn’t even look at her, opting to flip her off instead, “but seriously, girlfriend?” He looked at you.
You just nodded, shyly, “He wore me down, he can be quite persuasive.”
“I’m just shocked because the last time I saw you two really interact, I’m pretty sure you wanted to either cut his dick off or punch him in the face.” Miles laughs.
“Oh I did, but we talked… a lot.” You laugh, not wanting to really go into much detail.
Somehow Lewis manages to get the conversation away from your relationship status and you silently thank him, not in the mood for some big hoopla and discussion about your feelings. As everyone chatters on around you the evening quickly turns to night and people begin to bid their goodnights. With only a few people left on the patio, you do the same, whispering to Lewis before announcing it to the group. When you get to your room, you realize that you quite wish you had given him a kiss before you left, too shy to do it infront of everyone just yet. You sit on your bed in your pajamas, waiting to hear him head to his room. Finally you hear his voice in the hall, making you move to try to sneakily follow him to his room. You don’t hear anyone else in the hall so you make a run for it. You feel like a boarding school student breaking curfew with the way that you run on your tiptoes over to his doorway, knocking ever so softly.
“Yeah?” His voice is louder than you would have liked.
Instead of waiting for further permission, you gently ease his door open, slipping in quickly and softly shutting it behind you. He’s in the middle of taking off the sweatshirt he had put on earlier in the night, his t-shirt riding up as he does so, putting his abs wonderfully on display.
“Hello you.” He smirks when he finally sees you.
“Sorry.” You mumble, suddenly embarrassed that you just snuck into his room for a silly goodnight kiss after only dating the man for a day.
For some reason your brain is on a different level than your relationship technically is, you feel like you’ve been together for months, years even. It’s exactly what he was talking about, he’s been acting as your boyfriend for some time but now you finally have the intimacy you had secretly dreamed of.
“Don’t be sorry,” He smiles, approaching you to place his hands on your hips, “I too was thinking I needed to come steal a kiss before bed.” He puts your mind at ease, pressing his lips to yours softly.
You find yourself deepening the kiss, his soft manner not being enough for you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against his firm torso. He’s more than welcoming, wrapping his arms around you tightly, pulling you against him even harder than before. You take the lead this time, licking against his mouth. It takes him barely a second to respond, letting your tongue explore his mouth, his moving in sync against yours. When he groans into the kiss you can’t help but try to pull him even closer to you. He leans you against the door you had just snuck in through, his hands gravitating down towards your ass. You don’t stop him, nothing could possibly make you stop him in that moment. His large hands rest carefully atop your ass, not wanting to cross anymore of a boundary than he already is. You try to give him more permission, pressing your hips against his as you do your very best not to break from his lips that are growing hungrier by the second. The heat of his body and the lack of oxygen from the kiss are making you lightheaded, you need him, so much more than you could have ever imagined. You throw your demands out the window, fuck taking it slow, you needed to take him now.
He feels you press your hips against him, taking the hint and finally properly grabbing your ass, greedy handfuls in his large palms. He groans again and the sound goes straight to your core. You bring one of your legs up around his waist, hoping he gets the hint fully, and does he ever. Within moments he’s moving his hands to your thighs, beckoning for you to jump up so your legs are wrapped firmly around his waist. Finally he properly presses himself against you, his lips moving down to your jaw and trailing down your neck. It feels just as good as it did the first time you felt him do just this, but this time it’s even better, because you know you won’t be stopping him this time. He nibbles ever so slightly making you whimper. It’s the first proper sound he’s gotten out of you and he is immediately on a mission for more.
“Fuck, baby, do you want this? Are you sure?” He is so out of breath as he asks the question but his voice is serious, he’s not fucking it up again.
“Yes Lew, so much, I need you, please.” You rush out, your voice already an embarrassing whine. If you weren’t so needy in that moment, you might find it in you to care, but all you care about is getting him exactly how you want him.
The second he hears your words he’s latching his lips back onto your throat and carrying you over to his bed. The grace with which he puts you down surprises you, you half expected to be thrown like a ball. His hands move under your pajama shirt, immediately finding your breast completely bare. His thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple, making you gasp. His lips find yours once again, his hands roaming every inch of your body they can reach, yours doing the same to him. You fumble to try and take his shirt off, making him chuckle as he pulls away to do it for you, him swiftly ridding you of your shirt as well. He pauses for a moment, his eyes locked to your chest and the hungry stare makes you want to cover up. As if he can tell he leans down, placing his lips across every inch of bare skin he can before latching his lips around one of your nipples. You can’t help but arch into him, feeling his smile against your chest as you do so. You let your hands wander the smooth skin of his back, feeling how his muscles flex as he adjusts himself to kiss a trail down your torso. When he reaches your waistband his eyes flick up to yours, silently asking if he can carry on.
“Please.” You sigh out, needing some sort of relief from how ridiculously worked up you are in that moment.
That's all he needs to hear before he’s pulling down your sleep shorts and your undies in one swift motion. Once you're bare, his eyes lock onto your heat, in a much similar way to how they did your chest earlier.
“So fucking perfect.” He says under his breath, his thumb moving to ever so slightly brush against your hip, making you squirm.
Finally his thumb makes its way to the bundle of nerves that are throbbing with desperation. His touch is so light you can barely feel it but it makes your hips buck up towards him. He takes that as a good sign, applying more pressure as he finally starts to move in tantalizing circles, the rest of his hand resting on your pubis.
“So wet, so ready, my god,” He mumbles as if to himself before speaking up, his voice raspy with lust, “Can I taste you baby? Been dying to for so long.”
“Oh my god, please.” You feel like you could cry from just how turned on you are.
The first flick of his tongue is teasing, nothing even close to what you’re in the mood for, you buck your hips up towards him, hoping he takes the hint. He immediately dives in, no room for teasing and taunting left. His head between your thighs is something you never anticipated witnessing, but now its all you ever want to see. He wastes no time in latching his mouth onto your sensitive nerves, making you cry out. His tongue laps in the most perfect rhythm that your positive nothing will ever be as satisfying again. His tongue travels everywhere and anywhere, searching for your most sensitive spots. He makes his journey further down, the strong muscle of his tongue teasing at your entrance, you gasp as you feel him push just the tip in, his nose coming down to meet your clit. He quickly begins fucking you with his tongue as he gently moves his head, creating just enough friction with the tip of his nose to have you a whimpering mess. You feel yourself starting to tense up, never having come so quick with any of your partners. He can feel it too. He quickly replaces his tongue with two thick fingers, his mouth coming up to suck your clit directly into his mouth.
“There ya’ go, give it to me pretty girl, let me see how good you look when you come. You taste so fucking good, never gonna get enough.” You look down to see his eyes locked directly on yours. You can see his bicep flexing with the movements he’s making inside of you and that combination has you coming undone, harder than you ever have before. All you can do is moan his name, you have no idea how loud you’re being but you truly couldn’t care less, the way he’s making you feel is second to none. You can feel his smirk as he works you down from your orgasm slowly, making sure you feel every ounce of it.
Before he’s even able to make his way all the way up your body, you’re reaching for the button of his pants. You need to feel him, and you need to feel him now.
“All in good time sweetheart.” He giggles, placing a soft kiss to your lips.
You can feel the dampness in his beard, his lips slick. He steps away from you, making you whine.
“So needy, give me a second and I’ll give you everything you need.” He teases you as he walks over to his bag. He grabs a condom and you can’t help but be grateful he at least has half a mind right now, you were ready to take him raw if it meant you could have him.
He finally lets you undo his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. What you’re met with has your eyes going wide. He’s much larger than you could have even imagined. The thick vein running up his shaft looks lickable and you almost do exactly that before he’s laying you back once more, rolling the condom on.
“I’ll go slow, I promise.” He whispers reassuringly, evidently having caught your initial reaction.
When you feel the blunt tip press against you, you begin to rethink everything, there is absolutely no way you’ll be able to take him. He begins to ease into you slowly and it's the most indescribable feeling. You feel like you’re being split in two and put back together all at once. He somehow feels like an intrusion and your missing piece.
“Lew” You whimper out, clinging to him for dear life.
“Almost there baby, almost there,” His voice is soothing in your ear but you can hear the tension as he feels you for the first time, “you’re doing so good, so proud of you.”
The second he bottoms out, it's as if time has stopped. The two of you both let out deep groans, reveling in the feeling of finally being fully connected. Slowly the burning stretch turns into indescribable satisfaction. It feels like he was meant to be inside of you, the missing piece to the puzzle of your body. He stays still, letting you adjust to him as he peppers you with kisses. You can feel the tension in his shoulders, desperate to move, chase the high you’re both so desperate for. You don’t know how you find it in you but you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer and hoping he takes the hint that you need him to move just as much as he needs it. Slowly he pulls out of you, only half way, before burying himself in you again. He hits the perfect spot, making your toes clench with only one thrust. The groan he lets out is pornagraphic and you fight to make yourself look at him. The sight above you is what dreams are made of as he slowly starts to build a pace, testing the waters with what you like, evidently aiming to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he is. His lips are parted as if they’re ready to let out a moan at any given moment, his brow is furrowed in pleasure and concentration, his lust filled eyes boring down into yours.
“Fuck baby, you feel unreal.” He half groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, tracing his lips over the sensitive skin.
“Fuck, Lew, more please.” You run your nails gently down his back, making him shiver.
“You want more?” His voice is taunting, challenging.
“Fuuuuck.” You draw out as his hips pick up their pace.
He brings one of his arms to rest on the headboard as he leverages himself to put more power behind his thrusts. All words have left your mind, your mouth open in a constant gasp, no sound capable of escaping you any longer. He takes one of your legs, resting it over his shoulder as he pushes himself down on to you, his body weight suffocating in the best way. Somehow he’s even deeper this way and it makes you whimper, the tension mounting in your belly. You can tell you're almost there. His grunts and groans have quickly become your new favorite soundtrack as they edge you closer and closer to your release. His hips have picked up their pace even more and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. When his hand slips down to toy with your clit you find yourself letting out a moan much louder than you should have. He brings his lips to yours, attempting to quiet you. This kiss is useless, just two open mouths, sharing each others sounds of pleasure.
“Fuck I love you.” He breathes out, you can tell he didn’t mean to say it but the second you hear it you need to hear it a million more times. Your stomach tightening at the phrase falling from his lips
“Say it again.” You just about whine.
He hesitates for a moment, his hips faltering before finding his pace again, “I love you.” This time with much more conviction.
“Again.” You moan, so close to your high.
“Fuck Y/N, I love you, I love you, so fucking much.” He rambles, connecting your lips when he feels you reach your peak.
You’re not prepared, it crashes over you like a tsunami, you tighten around him so hard he struggles to move, to fuck you through it. You’re beyond grateful that he’s as determined as he is because he keeps you at your peak longer than you even knew possible, your vision blurring and your ears ringing. You feel him tense, uncoordinated thrusts as he finally spills into the condom. His breathing is hard as he collapses against you like the best weighted blanket imaginable. He’s pressing soft kisses to your throat as you do your best to come back to earth. You can feel him slowly softening inside of you and it just feels right, the two of you being connected.
"So much for taking it slow, hmm?" His voice is tired but teasing.
"Oh fuck off." Is the first thing you say to him as you come back into yourself, making him chuckle
It takes him a few moments before he disconnects from you, much to your dismay, wincing as he pulls out.
“M’sorry, one second.” He says softly, pecking your lips before moving to discard the condom and get you a rag.
He cleans you with such care, so gentle, you feel your heart lurch. It’s rare that you’ve been with a guy who takes such care afterwards. When he’s finally done he joins you back in bed, moving you both under the covers.
“No arguments, you’re staying right here.” He mumbles before you can object and try to go back to your own room, which you assume will no longer be needed.
“Hey Lewis?” You prompt hesitantly as he pulls you against his chest, hiking your leg up over his hips.
“I meant it, have for so long it hurts.” He answers you without you even having to ask, knowing what you’re questioning.
You lift your head to meet his, looking at him through the pale moonlight flooding the room.
“I love you too.” You whisper before leaning it to meet his lips.
"Say it again." He mumbles against your lips, a smile spreading across both of your faces as he mimics your words from earlier.
"I love you so fucking much Lewis Hamilton." You giggle as he pulls you impossibly close to him, latching his lips on to yours.
You don’t know how long you stay there kissing him but you’re not sure you disconnected before you fell asleep. All you know is that as you lay there, enjoying his affection, you knew you had made the right decision. You will never lose Lewis and now you have the rest of your life to enjoy a whole new journey with him.
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Bad For Business: Level Two
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter. “I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight,” Murray said through a mouthful of his sandwich. You startled, realising he was talking to you. Robin sunk down in her seat, her eyes trained on her microwaved pasta. “The games are getting serviced, but they’re not gonna be done until, pshh, midnight? Maybe.”
“What?” You stared at your boss, your own lunch forgotten about. “But Robin was working that, wasn’t this already, uh, discussed?”
“Buckley has a medical appointment,” Murray replied, too busy staring at some coffee stained sheets of paper to give you any attention. “And I don’t like to pry into my employees personal lives, so, you’re it, kid.”
You turned, neck snapping to the girl. She was already grimacing, knowing fine well that you knew there was absolutely no appointment. Your friend had spent all week gushing about a date she had at the weekend, you just assumed it was Sunday, not Saturday, seeing as she was already on the rota for the late shift. 
“Oh no. I hope you’re not too sick, Robin,” you said through clenched teeth. 
The girl sunk further down, her nose level with the table and her lukewarm pasta. She had the good grace to wince and mouth ‘sorry’ at you, eyes wide and apologetic. 
“Anyway, you and Harrington can utilise your time and do something productive, like cleaning the popcorn machine,” Murray waved a hand, distracted, knocking his coffee mug dangerously close to the computer. 
The popcorn machine hadn’t worked since 1973 but you didn’t bother mentioning that, too hung up on the other name that Murray had lumped yours with. “Harrington?” You glared between your boss and Robin, who was now positively morose. “Steve? Steve’s on the late with me? No. No.”
Murray laughed, a mean cackle that told you there wasn’t really any point in arguing, but you tried anyway. “Murray, please, c’mon. Can’t Argyle do the late? Carver? Literally anyone else?”
The man snorted, finally turning on his computer chair, the wheels protesting and he was grinning at you, gaze amused through his wire rimmed glasses. “They’re busy.”
“So am I!” You attempted, voice cracking. 
“You owe me approximately…” he turned back to his desk, rifling through the mess there until he produced what looked to be your timesheet. You bit back a swear. “…five hours this week. And that’s not including the forty minutes you were late this morning, so, I think we can compromise on you doing the late and keeping your job, alright?”
You didn’t say anything, just turning back on your chair to slump down to Robin’s level, arms folded and eyes stormy. The girl knocked your ankle with her own, mouthing another apology across the table, and if it weren’t for the fact she’d been trying to work up the courage to ask Nancy out for months now, you would’ve definitely have done something childish, like knock her pasta off the table. 
But you didn’t. You were fine. It was fine. 
“Make sure you lock up properly when you leave,” Murray reminded you unnecessarily, ‘cause that was Argyle’s bad habit, not yours. “And play nice with Steven - but not too nice.” He ruffled your hair as he passed, already leaving for the day despite the fact there was four hours left of opening. “There’s cameras everywhere, and some of them actually work. We don’t gotta see that, and I got out of the porn business years ago.”
Silence settled over the staff room as he slammed the door behind him, his last comment making Robin firmly push her lunch away. You blinked and stared at her, both of you thinking too much. 
“Is he… was that a joke?” She asked, hesitant to know the answer. 
“I have no idea.”
—————
Steve arrived as the last of the staff left, coming from his day off to spend the next six hours with you in the dark arcade, waiting for a team of greasy haired men to push some buttons on each machine, wiggle a joystick or two and then demand a couple of hundred dollars for their effort. 
It was unnerving to see the boy in normal clothes, no real need for his staff shirt or name badge. His white t-shirt made him look even more tanned, sunkissed from the afternoons spent by his pool, the cotton lit up ultraviolet under the arcade lights. 
“What time are they comin’?” He asked in lieu of greeting, heaving himself up to sit on the desk, narrowly avoiding the bag of chips you’d been snacking on. 
You huffed, an annoyed sound that the boy was so used to, snatching your chips away before he could crush them further. You shrugged, moving away from Steve, eager to put some distance between you and him, ‘cause he smelled too damn nice. 
Like sunscreen and summer, leftover chlorine and a cologne that was probably more than his last paycheck. It was annoyingly distracting. 
“Don’t know, Murray said anytime between seven and ten.” You were already tired, draping yourself over the counter, used ticket stubs sticking to your arms. “This fucking sucks.”
“Didn’t you miss me?” Steve grinned, spinning on the desk to face you, his legs crossed in front of him as he leaned forward, taunting. He was good at giving you the eye, that gaze he gave all the girls, thick lashes fluttering, honey brown stare all soft and warm. 
Too bad it didn’t work on you. 
“No. But I’m glad to see you managed to pick up a sense of humour as well as an STD by the pool today.”
Steve laughed, unperturbed by your vicious comment. It hurt less when you smiled at him like that, all pretty and pleased with yourself, smug about it. “You’re particularly catty today, princess. Still not managed to reclaim a Dig Dug victory?”
“Fuck off.”
Steve grinned. Riling you up was his favourite thing to do. But all too soon, you were pushing yourself away from the desk, chips forgotten about, and rounding the counter. You sighed, looking around the empty arcade as if doing anything was better than talking to him. 
“I’m gonna refill the ticket machines,” you declared, not looking at him when you spoke. “Murray said you need to clean the popcorn machine, so, Godspeed.”
Steve blanked, staring at you as you walked away, bare legs lit up in pinks and blues under the lights, your shorts a constant distraction for him. He hated them. “Wait, what? The popcorn machine hasn’t worked in fucking years.”
“Not my problem!” You waved him off before turning the corner, disappearing behind the chunky machines that had stood since the beginning of the seventies. “Have fun, Harrington.”
Steve let the service men in an hour later, the silence that had fallen over the arcade interrupted by mechanical beeping and the switching on and off of each machine. He hadn’t seen you since he’d first arrived and the fact that he’d only managed to get one rise out of you was severely disappointing. So he searched through the large room, navigating the rows of games in a way he knew all too well, each screen flashing invitingly, the promise of a new adventure stuck behind each one. 
He knew where to find you, it wasn’t all that hard. But he still stopped to watch from afar as you bashed the buttons on the Dig Dug machine, swearing softly to yourself when the game didn’t do what you wanted. It beeped angrily, the screen flashed and a patronising ‘game over’ sign flooded the black background. 
“You’re doing it wrong,” he called out, too happily. 
You spun, scowling at the sound of his voice, his cheery negativity, his wide smirk. A sound of dismissal left your throat, annoyance clear on your face, but you couldn’t resist the bait. “There’s like, three buttons and I only need to use one of them,” you snapped, “how can I be doing it wrong?”
Steve joined you at the machine, leaning on the side of the bulky game, lit up by the flashing neon lights that hung above it. He was six different shades of yellow and orange, all golds and ambers and peaches across tanned skin and brown eyes. He was smug looking, eyes flickering from yours down to your fingers that were prodding at the button, bashing it furiously as you tried to blow up the Fygar’s that were in your way. The game beeped again, angry, and you were back to the main menu. 
Steve’s name flashed obnoxiously from the top of the leaderboard, the number one beside it, setting your teeth on edge. You pushed another coin into the slot, took a deep breath and tried to ignore the boy beside you. 
Steve only managed another minute or two of polite silence before he was sighing. “Jesus, look, like this, yeah?” His hand covered your own, the one hovering over the button and you froze, staring at him from the side of your eyes. “It’s about timing, not how hard you can mash the button into the board.”
You knew how to play. You were number one last week, you weren’t a novice, Dig Dug was your favourite game. You should’ve shaken him off, snarled something mean about men thinking they always knew best but you were frozen, still staring, looking at the boy like a deer trapped in headlights.
Steve pressed his fingers over yours as the game restarted, the tinny, electronic music beginning all over again. He was methodical about it, pressing the shooter only when the enemies got close enough, a vast difference to the way you manically shot on sight. But he frowned when he realised you weren’t moving at all, the joystick frozen in your other hand. 
“C’mon, you’re not exactly helping,” he complained moodily. “S’wrong? Scared I’m trying to seduce you or somethin’?” 
You scowled at that, shifting under Steve’s touch, glaring at him from where he still stood beside the machine; one, warm, wide hand still covering yours. His fingers were so much bigger than your own, swallowing your own against the buttons. 
“As if you could,” you were quick to shoot back, but you ducked your chin, glaring at the screen through your lashes. “More concerned about where your hands have been.”
You heard him huff out a laugh, a breath through the smirk that seemed to always be on his lips when he was around you. He pressed your fingers down again when you tilted the joystick, successfully blowing up three of the little pixelated enemies on screen. 
“Now, now, princess,” Steve’s voice was low, smooth. You hated it. “Don’t act like you weren’t letting Carver drape himself over you last Wednesday.”
You wrinkled your nose at the memory, not liking Jason Carver any more than you did Steve, but at least the latter didn’t invade your personal space like Jason did. The blonde boy seemed to think his old letterman jacket was a one way pass into a girl's pants, no matter how long it had been since high school had ended. 
You had absolutely no interest in Jason, you never had and you told him as such on the daily. But it was still fun to say, “you sound jealous, Steven.” You smirked the same as him, letting your gaze slide to him from the side of your eye, watching as he frowned, cheeks rosier than normal in the arcade lights. 
“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” he bit back, eyes focused on the screen, his fingers jabbing over yours a little harder than before. “You’re not my type.”
It shouldn’t have cut you as much as it did, a cheap jab, wrapped in barbed wire but it stung all the same. You sneered, a nasty thing, shrugging Steve off, his hand moving from yours and leaving it cold. You pressed the button alone, blowing up the pixels until there were none left and the level cleared. The screen flashed with a new high score and you tilted the joystick with more force than necessary as you typed out your initials. 
Your name took first place on the leader board, knocking STEVE H. to the number two spot. The boy didn’t say anything as you walked away, his eyes on your bare legs, as usual, the taste of regret sitting heavy on his tongue. 
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SAAM2024 - SA Awareness Month
TW: SA, discussions around rape and sexual violence
Listen, I’m going to talk about something it isn’t easy or fun to talk about. I’m going to try and get a point across, and hopefully have it amount to something legible, because I am already feeling my body physically reacting with symptoms of stress.
I want to talk about sexual assault.
Did you know that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month? And has been, for the last 23 years? Because I sure didn’t! Which is wild, considering I am a survivor of six separate incidents of sexual assault, two of which were penetrative rape.
I looked up the SAAM2024 hashtag and found crickets. Because who the hell wants to talk about sexual violence and rape on a random Thursday, right?
The thing is, we need to be having these conversations.
Of course, the onus isn’t on survivors to start the conversation — who would ask someone who is horrifically traumatised to open those scars again and talk about their trauma? I couldn’t even say the word “rape” for years.
[note: I have chosen not to censor the word rape here as a part of my own recovery process. Its just a word. I refuse to let it incite terror. Its just a word. ]
So who, then? If we could all talk about sex and sexual assault —if these were topics of conversation that weren’t so taboo to discuss— we could begin to take steps to make things safer for ourselves and for others.
So here I am, talking.
I feel it is important to destigmatise sex as this hush hush topic; it’s important to be able to discuss safe sex, consent, to differentiate what is just “bad sex” from what is assault. People are often quick to brush off encounters that give them the ick as just “bad sex”.
I was no different.
At sixteen, I didn’t have the terminology to describe what happened to me as rape. In a culture that glamorises illicit affairs and drunken hook-ups at parties, I didn’t have the comprehension to realise that what happened to me was not some sexy, drunken, desirable thing.
[trigger warning for more context around the first of my rapes]
I had been at a party, celebrating the wrap of my high school’s theatre production. I had been drinking underage and was extremely drunk*.
(*which in no way excuses what happened to me — it is important to take steps to dismantle rape culture and victim-blaming.)
There was a classmate I had been on a few dates with, and though we had been handsy during makeout sessions a few times, we had never discussed having sex. He offered to pick me up from the party, to give me a place to stay for the night. He had not been in attendance at the party, and was completely sober. By the time he drove us both home, I was already intermittently blacking out.
I have only a few memories of that night. One, crystal clear even to this day — a concerned classmate, grabbing my arm as I was heading out of the venue. The look of alarm on his face as he asked if I had a safe means of transport home. I lied to him. I have no idea why. I told him my mother was waiting in the vehicle that had just pulled up, and he let me go.
The next memory that I have is of his bedroom ceiling. A vague, blurred outline of his unclothed body over mine, as he was raping me.
Yes, we had been at that tentative, early stage of a potential relationship. Yes, I had taken him up on the offer to go to sleep at his house.
But, in the state I was in, there is no possible way I could have consented to sex.
I knew something was wrong, afterwards. I knew I spent the next night curled in a ball, sobbing in the shower for a reason. I knew there was a reason I froze up when a friend side-eyed me at school the following Monday, and said “you had sex with him, didn’t you?”. What I didn’t understand was that the reason was because I had been raped.
Because I didn’t have the vocabulary to describe my experience as such.
Because people don’t like to talk about sexual assault.
But we need to talk about sexual assault.
Conversations about sex can and should be removed from the concept of arousal. You can and should talk about sex without it being labelled as horny, or flirty, or suggestive — because it is just another topic to learn about.
Sex is an intricately nuanced thing that can mean so many different things to so many different people. There are elements of shame and embarrassment around sexual encounters sometimes; young and naive as I was, I was ready to take my crawling feelings of shame, self-blame, disgust, and put them down to “it was just bad sex”.
It wasn’t until long after the horror of my second, more violent rape, that I was able to pinpoint some of the trauma responses as being the same as that first time. There were patterns there, feelings that, had I been in a position of knowing more about safe sex and consent, I would have recognised sooner for what they were.
Its all well and good to go “hey! Don’t rape people!” and pat yourself on the back for your activism.
But the thing is, that kind of does sweet fuck all to actually help people who are at risk of experiencing sexual violence. What we really need is to take actionable steps toward improving people’s sexual safety and practises around consent and safe sex.
So what does that look like?
We talk about sex and consent without stigma.
We believe survivors and do not victim-blame
We practice respecting other people’s bodily autonomy in everyday scenarios, before it ever reaches a sexual context — if someone doesn’t want to hug you, respect their autonomy! If someone tells you to stop tickling them, even though they are laughing, hey, guess what? Respect their autonomy!
We remember what consent looks like, and take steps to inform others — consent is always clear, continuous, coercion-free, and conscious.
We make it second nature to take basic steps toward safety — never leave a drink unattended at a party! Stick to a buddy system to ensure people get home safe! Not because you suspect something will happen, it's just a default behaviour!
Be that classmate that tries to stop a drunk person walking out into the night alone.
The more we do these kinds of things, the less mystical and nebulous this whole “safe sex and healthy consent” thing becomes, and the safer we all are for it.
I’m gonna cut myself off here for my own wellbeing, as this has been extremely taxing, but let me provide a few links that I think are relevant. I hope this might be in some way helpful, and encourages others to continue the conversation offline. (or online, even -- reblogs are totally fine, and please feel free to add other stories or links if you have resources to share)
Be safe, and to any SA survivors who happen to be reading this, please know that you will always be yours, and what happened to you was not your fault. 💖
What is Consent (VeryWellMind)
History of Sexual Assault Awareness Month (NSVRC)
Sexual Violence Prevention: Beginning the Dialogue (NSVRC)
How to Support a Survivor (CRCC)
Finding Help If You’ve Been Sexually Abused (Crisis Text Line)
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jakes3resin · 1 month
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Blondes Have More Fun
Anyways, this is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing Crack fic for this fandom, so enjoy Blond!Bucky and his ability to drive Buck and the entirety of the 100th wild with his smile and hair! Also personally I think Callum looks like a 24 year old when blond, so imagine handsome charming, nearly thirty Bucky Egan running around looking like a baby faced newbie then you'll be half a bowled over as the 100th.
It is a truth universally acknowledged at Thorpe Abbotts that Major John "Bucky" Egan can be talked into anything. Anything. So long as you were convincing and Buck wasn't around to drag him away from the dumber ideas, Bucky was down to play ball.
Curt had once talked him into using a British accent for a whole week, even in meetings with the CO. Bucky hadn't even blinked before adopting an uncannily perfect London accent. It was so convincing that some of the newer replacements had asked if the man was British.
Another time, he got into a howl off with Meatball after Hambone said he didn't know which one was worse. The pair were so loud that no one could actually tell who won. Most were too busy covering their ears. The few that weren't couldn't decide. It was officially settled as a draw, but Benny still refuses to accept that Bucky would ever beat his precious boy Meatball in anything.
There were countless tales of Bucky getting into trouble simply because someone had said within his earshot the six words needed to wreck Jack Kidd's night.
"You know what would be fun?"
The magic words. That or a dare would send Bucky careening into trouble with half the 100th behind him to watch the fireworks. Honestly, most of the time, Bucky was already getting up to his own antics, so convincing him to do something else wasn't exactly hard.
It was one such utterance of the phrase that sparked a wildfire within the 100th Bomber Group that threatened to tear them asunder and send one Major Gale "Buck" Cleven to an early grave. Or prison.
The night was like any other Friday night. Bucky had gone out with Curt and Bubbles. Buck had chosen to stay in for the night reading, and Harry had done much the same. Kidd, the minder of the entire 100th, had gone to the officer's club while the trio had gone to a local pub in the town just off base. So the usual minders of this trio of mad men were missing, and as the saying goes, while the cats are away, the mice will play.
It started as Bubbles's idea.
At least that's what they think it started as. A few too many drinks had left the evening a blur for Curt and Bubbles and a blank for Bucky. That last fact will be important later.
"You know what would be fun?" Bubbles said, or perhaps it was Curt. Or maybe it was Bucky. But it was probably Bubbles. The man was quite the troublemaker, he just hid it better behind soft smiles and manners.
"What?" Bucky leaned against the bar to grin at Bubbles. Well perhaps a more accurate word would be slumped, he'd spent half the night playing some weird darts game that required shots for every bull's eye Tommy made. It was safe to say that the man was on the downhill slide to wasted. Curt kept an ear on the pair as he flirted with a pretty blonde next to them at the bar.
"Being blonde." Bubbles sighed. "All the movies make it seem fun, don't they? And Major Cleven sure is pretty with his blond hair. I bet it'd look really pretty as well on your curls Bucky."
"Sorry, sweetheart, one moment," Curt turned his head to stare at Bubbles. "You think Buck's pretty?"
"And you don't?"
"I do!"
"We know you do, Bucky," Curt sighed and leaned further onto the bar to make eye contact with Bubbles. "I mean, sure, objectively, you could say he is, but I thought you were wrapped up with Croz and Jean?"
"I am, but I still got eyes don't I? 'Sides ain't there something fun about being blonde?" Bubbles leaned against his cupped hand on the bar. "Can't a mind wonder?"
"Yeah Curt," Bucky rose in defense of his friend slinging an arm around Bubble's neck. The move was so uncoordinated that the pair were nearly sent to the floor. "Why can't Bubbles wonder? I wanna go blond, too!"
Curt rolled his eyes at them, but an idea was taking root in his head. An amazing idea.
"Well," Curt grinned. "Why wonder when you can do?"
"You boys aren't thinking about bleaching your friend's hair on your own are you?" A voice cut through the trio's conversation. It seemed the blonde woman from before had been listening in and was rightly amused by the drunk airmen's conversation.
"Cause you'll fry his whole head off in the state you're in, and the world would mourn those curls." She lifted a hand to tug gently on one of Bucky's loose wavy curls. He smiled at her, loose and happy. Usually, only Buck plays with his hair, but Bucky doesn't mind when anyone else does. Buck does though, which Bucky still hasn't figured out.
"Well, how do you suppose we save his curls then," Curt paused searching for the woman's name, "Nora."
"Good job, I half thought you were too drunk to remember my name handsome." Curt smiled, and Nora kept talking
"There's a drugstore down the way. Stocks up on anything a girl, or flyboy in need, could ever need. I'll help you boys out." Nora laughed. "You'll look mighty pretty dyeing those curls blond Major. I wanna see 'em first."
With Nora leading the way, the trio tripped over themselves into chaos. Bucky laughed as Bubbles rambled on about how pretty he'll look as a blond. Curt butting in to say that he'll need to either shave his mustache or bleach it too.
On base, Buck felt a shiver run down his spine as he laid down to sleep. Writing it off as just a chill from the cold British air, the man fell asleep.
Bucky groaned as he woke up. Voices drifted around him. His head felt like it'd be screwed off and used as a bowling ball all night, and as desperately as he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew that now that the sun was up, he was up.
"Curt, if that's you snoring on my legs, I'm gonna kick you off." Bucky pulled his pillow further over his head, trying to block out said snores.
"Fuck off," Came the grumbled reply. An elbow dug into the back of his knee.
"Get off," John whined. Curt huffed shifting just enough to let Bucky free his legs. "Why didn't you go to your own bed?"
"Yours is comfier." Bubbles murmured next to the pair, and Bucky really was starting to wonder what the hell they all drank the night before.
"It's the same cot as everybody else." Bucky grumbled, finally sitting up. Bubbles and Curt immediately swooped onto the space he abandoned. "Rude. You just want me for my bed."
"But it's such a lovely bed, sweetheart," Curt buried his face in Bucky's pillow, not even glancing at the man he was stealing from. Bubbles seemed to have immediately fallen back to sleep.
"I'm getting breakfast," Bucky yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Meet me there when you idiots wake up. I'll sneak you in."
"Sir, yes, sir." Curt's hand flopped into a mock salute that had Bucky rolling his eyes.
First things first, breakfast. Or at least coffee for his hangover.
Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Bucky didn't even waste time checking how he looked in a mirror. He went to smooth down his mustache only to curse when he found it missing. Thinking Curt must have shaved it off as a joke, Bucky groaned but moved on. He didn't even touch his hair after that, just walked right out of his barracks. The only thing that mattered to him was coffee and how he'd get his hands on a gallon of it. It wouldn't be the first time he ran around base with his hair going every which way. No one would bat an eye.
Had he known what kind of chaos he was about to wreck upon the poor, unsuspecting airmen of Thorpes Abbotts, Bucky would have at least styled it a bit. You know, just to ensure maximum chaos.
The bike ride to the mess wasn't awful. The fresh air helped at least. With his sunglasses on, his head felt less like it was going to split open and more human. What was weird was how everyone stopped in their tracks to watch him ride past.
"Is that-?"
"No way!"
"Someone get Kidd!"
"Holy shit!"
"Major Cleven is going to lose his mind!"
"Do you think he has a twin?"
"Hell if I know, I can't believe Major Cleven let him out of the barracks like that."
"Lord help us if there's another Egan running around."
Bucky ignored them. He was way too hungover to parse through what nonsense the boys were going on about, and he simply pedaled faster to get to the officer's mess. He just wanted his coffee.
"Major Egan, sir!"
Bucky glances up from securing his bike and meets the eye of one of the newer boys. Kid barely looks old enough to have enlisted.
"Uh," Bucky searches his memory for this kid's name. Bucky tried to know some of the newbies names, but it was harder than he'd ever admit. "Monroe, right?
"Yes, sir!" The kid squeaked, a bright tomato blush spreading across his cheeks. Bucky winced, the sound drilling right into his brain. "I wanted to say you look nice today, sir. Your, your hair is real nice!"
"Thanks, Monroe," Bucky smiled, thrown by how Monroe managed to grow even redder. He reaches out to clasp the kid on the shoulder. "You alright there? You look like you're gonna faint. Had any breakfast yet?"
"I-I'm fine, sir, thank you!" Monroe was stock still under Bucky's hand, but he wrote it off as nerves. Some of the boys got nervous around the older pilots, especially if they were officers. "I'll be going now! Have a good day, sir!"
In a flash, the blushing replacement ducked under Bucky's arm and ran as fast as he could down the lane. Bucky watched him go, head tilted not sure what the hell just happened to him. He heard a few shrieks behind him but wrote it off as typical background noise. There was always something going on.
"Weird kid." Bucky turned to walk into the officer's mess. He'd have to tell Buck about it when he saw him next. Maybe he'd understand what just happened.
Speaking of, Buck had better have saved him a seat for breakfast. Bucky was not going to battle the morning rush as well as his hangover just to find out he had nowhere to sit.
On the way inside, Bucky ran into Veal. As in, he literally ran into the man because he'd stopped dead in his tracks staring at him. Bucky hadn't even seen the other before he practically bowled him over.
"Veal, what the hell?" Bucky groaned.
"You," Veal stared at him wide-eyed. If Bucky were less hungover, he'd get quite a kick out of this. "You, you?"
"Shaved, I know," Bucky gestured to his face. He turned to keep walking into the officer's mess. "Yeah, Curt had some fun last night."
"Wait, no! Bucky-!" Veal went to grab him, but Bucky just swerved out of the way. Nothing was getting in his way in his quest for coffee. "Bucky! Stop! Don't go in there!"
"Yeah, yeah, Veal," Bucky waved a hand behind him. "I get you're shocked, but come on, man. It's not the first time any of you've seen me without it!"
Bucky rushed in, not paying anymore attention to Veal. He walked with one purpose. Coffee. He didn't care if the other officers stopped and stared at him slackjawed as he walked past. He was a man on a mission.
"Hey, coffee, please? Whole pot if you could," Bucky smiled at the attendant, who blushed scarlet before running off. Thrown but not deterred, Bucky just shrugged and turned to find Buck. Maybe he'd be able to steal Buck's coffee.
He found Buck seated near one of the windows with his back facing Bucky. Jack was at his table, but otherwise, it was empty. Bucky started over.
Jack saw him first and choked on his grapefruit juice.
"Oh shit," Jack choked out. Buck leaned over to check on him.
"Alright, Jack?" Bucky grabbed the seat next to Buck. Jack just stared at him, eyes wide. Bucky tilts his head confused. "Buck, what's with him?"
Buck turns and freezes. Bucky stares at him. Buck stares back.
"Buck?" Bucky reaches out to shake him.
"You," Buck starts but doesn't finish. His wide blues eyes stare at Bucky's face.
"Coffee, sir!"
The attendant from before arrives with Bucky's requested pot of coffee and a cup.
"Thanks!" Bucky smiles up at the other. The attendant trips backward. Buck turns and glares at the other man. He flees.
"Buck, what the hell?" Bucky nudges Buck. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"
Buck turns to stare at Bucky again, a clench to his jaw that Bucky's knows means he's holding something back. Jack seems to have started breathing normally again.
"Your hair!" Jack says. Bucky reaches up to touch his hair. Sure, he didn't style it this morning, but was it so bad? Monroe said it looked good!
Speaking of, why was everyone focusing on his hair today?
"What about it?" Bucky's genuinely curious now. Buck's still staring at him, eyes bright, and now Jack seems to be wishing for death.
"Its-!"
"Pretty."
Bucky turns to Buck. It's his turn to stare wide-eyed at the other. A blush rises up to his cheeks. Buck's not one to mince his words, and a compliment from him feels akin to a hundred.
The entire mess hall goes quiet as Buck stares at him. Bucky smiles at him. Buck goes rigid, and Jack chokes on his juice next to them. Again.
"Bucky!" Curt slammed his hand against the window, happy as a clam and utterly sober. Bucky hates that Irish constitution of his. "Let us in!"
Bucky stands up to hoist open the window. Jack's still too busy choking on his juice to stop him, and Buck seems to have frozen solid. Bubbles and Curt fall through seconds later. The pair immediately start talking over each other happily, and Bucky is starting to wonder if he was the only one who woke up with a hangover.
"God, you should hear the scuttlebutt going round!" Curt cackles as he launches himself into the seat across from Bucky. Bubbles nods next to him, already munching on a piece of toast Bucky thinks used to be Jack's.
"Anything fun?" Bucky dumps creamer into his coffee. He moans as he takes a sip of it. God, coffee really was the best hangover cure. Bucky doesn't notice how quiet the mess hall got until Bubbles finally answers his question a minute later. Odd.
"Just how pretty your hair looks now Major," Bubbles smiled at him. Bucky reached for his hair again.
"Is it really so different?" He asks. Buck makes a noise next to him like a dying chicken, and Curt cackles.
"Blond really is your color, Bucky! You look like one of those pin up posters running around like that!" Curt reaches across the table to tug on one of his curls, drawing it down into his eyesite. Buck bangs his knee against the table with a swear. Bucky would fuss over him, but he's reevaluating his whole morning with this new information.
"Oh!" Bucky gasps. Now he feels silly. "That's why Monroe complimented me outside?"
"Pardon?" Buck's voice comes out strangled. Bucky swings his gaze back to him. Buck's blue eyes are nearly electric, and Bucky gulps.
"Monroe? Cute kid? Brunette replacement with a billion freckles that disappear when he blushes?" Bucky rambles. Curt cackles again as Jack buries his face into his hands. Bubbles grabs a slice of Buck's toast this time.
"And he stopped you?" Buck's jaw was doing the thing Bucky knows only happens when he's pissed. But why would he be mad? Bucky tilts his head to stare at Buck, curls flopping down into his eyes now that Curt's untucked them from behind his ears.
Buck clenches his fist.
"Yeah, he and Veal both stopped me before I walked in." Bucky reaches over to grab Buck's hand. "You okay?"
"I'm fine John," Buck reaches up to tuck his loose curls back behind his ear. His hand lingers, and Bucky fights the urge to press his cheek into Buck's hand. "You look real pretty."
"Yeah?" Bucky sits up straighter, leaning into Buck's space. "How pretty?"
"Like a daydream." Buck whispers, voice low. His blue eyes won't stop staring, and Bucky can tell his blush is spreading by the volume of Curt's laugh.
Oh, Bucky could just kiss the other.
"Yeah, Nora did a nice job on your hair!" Bubbles pipes up having polished off Buck's toast. "We should write her a thank you card!"
"Nora?" Buck twitches.
"The girl who dyed Bucky's hair, of course!" Curt chimed in reaching for Bucky's coffee. Bucky batted his hands away, holding desperately onto his cup. "Pretty girl too! Kept running her hands through Bucky's hair saying how nice it was."
"I think nows a good time to stop that." Jack shoved his last slice of toast in Curt's mouth.
Buck's hand was still hovering over Bucky's cheek.
"Oh, now I remember!" Bucky leaned towards Curt and Bubbles with a bright smile. "She kissed me on the cheek before we left, right?"
Buck pushed his chair away from the table with a screech. Jack turned back to his grapefruit juice with a sigh.
Buck stormed out of the building, and it was through the combined efforts of Curt and Bubbles that Bucky didn't run after him. They could hear yelling through the still open window.
"Oh shit!"
"Everybody run! Major Cleven's pissed!"
"Who flirted with Bucky this time?!"
"Buck calm down, whoever it was they probably didn't mean anything by it!"
"Outta my way Crank."
"Buck, c'mon if you go to jail, who'll stay by Bucky's side?"
"Only gotta go to prison if I get caught."
"That's right-wait, Buck, no!"
Bucky sipped at his coffee. Jack sighed and turned to Bucky.
"Would you please go stop him? I'm not explaining to Harding why one of the 100th murdered a civilian, a fellow Major, and a replacement."
"Buck wouldn't do that," Bucky rolled his eyes.
Jack stared at him, judgement clear in his eyes. Bucky shifted under his gaze.
"Fine," Bucky groaned and pushed away from the table. He refilled his cup of coffee. "He wouldn't, but I'll go stop him."
Curt and Bubbles chirped their goodbyes as they waved down an attendant. Bucky mourned his pot of coffee as he glanced back and saw Curt gleefully pouring it into a cup.
Stepping put in the sunshine, Bucky reached for his sunglasses. Finding Buck would be easy. He simply turned in the direction of the yelling and started walking.
He ignored the boys all watching him and whispering. Now that he was walking, he could see his reflection in the windows of the buildings he passed. His normally brown locks were now a bright blond. He felt a bit foolish for not seeing it earlier, but hangovers tended to narrow one's field of vision to only what's necessary.
"DeMarcooo!" Bucky called out when he saw the other walking Meatball. "You seen Buck anywhere?"
"Just missed him," Benny yelled back. He pointed to the left of the barracks. "Went that way!"
"Thanks!" Bucky called back with a smile. A few of the boys around him erupted in whispers.
"Nice hair!" Benny yelled with a grin. Bucky rolled his eyes and kept walking. Buck couldn't have gone too far, right?
He found Buck only a few minutes later outside of one of the barracks the replacements were quartered. He was leaning against a wall talking to someone.
"Buck!" Bucky jogged over. As he got closer, he realized that the person Buck was talking to was the kid from earlier. "Monroe! Good to see you again so soon!"
"Major!" Monroe squeaked, eyes bouncing from Buck to Bucky. "Major Cleven was just reminding me about a few chores that I forgot about! I'll get going! Sirs!"
The kid ran off before Bucky could stop him. Buck watched with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, and Bucky huffed out a laugh.
"You know, you don't have to act all jealous to get my attention," Bucky pulled Buck to him by wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'll still only ever look at you."
"Just making sure everyone else knows that." Buck replied, voice low and serious.
Bucky reached up his free hand to drag him down into a kiss. Buck melted into his touch. Bucky laughed into he kiss as he tried to keep his coffee from spilling all over the two of them. He pecks the corner of Buck's mouth and pulls away.
"So you like the hair?" Bucky scrunches his nose into a shit eating grin.
Buck wiped that grin off his face with another kiss. Not that Bucky was complaining, of course.
Later that night, after making sure Buck didn't actually murder anyone, Bucky found himself in front of a vaguely familiar drug store.
"Well Major, I take it your boy liked the blond?" Nora grinned, pink lips spread into a devilish smile. She leaned one hip against the drug store counter. "Surprised you made it back here. You boys weren't exactly stone cold sober when you left."
"I always remember my bets, darling. I'll forget a lot but never those." Bucky laughed and set his hat down on the counter next to her. A single blond curl fell down into his eyes. "Now, what's this about makeup?"
"Oh, Major, you'll look lovely in something peachy."
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aledethanlast · 11 months
Text
If I'm already on the topic of the foxes and grown ups, let's talk about Kevin.
I think Kevin mellows out a lot by the time he goes pro. In part because there's not nearly so large an axe over his neck anymore, but largely because around his fourth year, when pro teams start seriously trying to recruit him, he realizes that his caustic and dismissive attitude towards his teammates can't really fly anymore. It's a Raven behavior, a label he's both disavowed and been disowned by, and most coaches are not his dad who will let him do whatever and kowtow to his expertise. He was an assistant coach for one semester, and never a captain. His behavior has a deadline and if he misses it, it might end his career. He's gonna need to make an actual effort.
And he wants to make the effort! He always admired the Trojans for their good nature, and while he is definitely a fox, he thinks he'd very much like being part of a more friendly team.
So when he signs on to his first pro team (the culmination of six weeks of studying various teams for play style, lineups, press reputation, and point stats), he feels ready to turn over a new leaf. If nothing else, he thinks he'd like to make more friends now that he doesn't have Andrew and Neil around all the time. And the team seems like a nice bunch! They're talented, driven, he can see how he can mesh with them.
This sentiment lasts him about a week.
"Put Neil on the goddamn phone," he says as he slams the door of his car.
"Kevin," his father says on the other end of the line. "We are at practice right now."
"I know, that's why I called you."
His father sighs in the way he does when he needs a few seconds to debate who he should blame for this latest headache. Then he hears a fist on glass on the other end, and a minute later the little fucker says "Kevin. How are you."
"I don't know how you did this or why, but I am going to fucking end you."
"Please be more specific." Smug little motherfucker. Kevin slams his foot on the gas and pretends it's Neil's neck. Though he eases up a bit when he almost tailspins out of the parking lot. He hasn't driven a car in six years, fucking sue him.
"Practice ended three hours ago, Neil. I am now leaving the stadium. Can you guess what I was doing in that meantime?"
"Rediscovering the lost city of Atlantis," Neil says, deadpan, and when Kevin goes to trial for homicide he is going to play this recording back for the court and they're going to call it justified.
"No, see, by the time Gotlieb started talking about Atlantis, I knew he was fucking with me. That doesn't salvage the two goddamn hours I spent trying to convince my teammates that the pyramids weren't, I shit you not, built by Napoleon." He pauses as he reconsiders what just came out of his mouth. "This was Andrew's idea, wasn't it?"
"Kevin, if you only talk to people about exy, they're going to think they can only talk to you about exy. Now your team knows you're an actual fucking person. Have fun with that."
Plague upon his fucking house. "Are you expecting a thank you?"
"You promised yourself you'll make more friends. I'm just holding you to it. So...yes."
Kevin doesn't say it, and he tells himself its because Neil doesn't need the ego. Somehow Neil hears him anyway. "Drive home safe, Kevin."
"Go get your rookies in line, Captain," Kevin says, and hangs up. He dials Andrew next; he needs to know just how much of Kevin's thesis Andrew turned into conspiracy fodder.
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prettyyoungandbored · 8 months
Text
Babydoll - Johnny Knoxville
Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Fem! Reader
Same characters from ‘Be Careful’ and ‘I Wanna Marry You’
Author’s Note: Eventually I will find the energy to write about their Vegas wedding. Eventually. If you guys have any ideas, let me know.
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NOT MY GIF
“Are you having fun?”
Y/N looked up from her glass to see Johnny standing there, beer in hand. Her stomach twisted as excitement tingled throughout her body. She had been at this bar Bam had picked out for nearly two hours and had yet to have some one on one time with Johnny, which was the only reason she went.
Or at least that’s how Holly was able to persuade her to go.
“I can make that happen easily because he’s definitely into you,” Holly remarked. “He calls you Babydoll.”
Y/N shrugged. “It’s just a nickname. He has one for everyone.” She paused. “Although he does call me that quite a lot.”
Holly threw her hands up. “Ok, fine. But you do notice that he doesn’t subject you to the same bullshit he subjects everyone else to, right?”
“I’m not in the cast.”
“You’ve seen him involve production people!” She smirked. “I actually suggested you do a stunt and he shot me down immediately. Said there’s no way in hell he’d ever let you get yourself involved like that.”
“He’s just being nice. Plus, I’m not exactly a daredevil like you all.”
That’s when Holly got on her knees. “Y/N, I’m begging you. Please come to the bar.”
Y/N shook her head, a big smile on her face. “Alright, get your ass off the floor. I’ll meet you guys there.”
She saw Holly talk to Johnny when she walked in. She waved at them, Johnny giving her a small smile when she passed by.
And then she spent the next hour with Holly, Bam, and Ryan, occasionally turning her head to watch Johnny play pool.
“Sure am,” she responded, her lips slightly curving.
He scrunched his nose, head shaking. “I don’t believe you, Babydoll.”
She didn’t know if it was the alcohol in her system or the fact she, but she blurted out, “Why do you call me that?”
“Call you what? ‘Babydoll’?” He shrugged and put the beer bottle to his lips. “Just a nickname.”
He took a swig of his beer and then paused. “Wait, do you not like it? Am I offending you?” The sincerity and concern in his tone was sweet.
She laughed, waving her hand. “It’s fine.
“Good. Besides, I only reserve that nickname for you.”
He gave her wink, which nearly made her melt in the chair. Instead, her reaction was just to roll her eyes. “You mean to tell me I’m the only woman you call ‘Babydoll’?”
“Yup. Swear to God.”
“Then what do you call the woman you pursue at other bars?”
He didn’t flinch, his smirk still intact. If anything, he looked even more amused than before. “Either ‘honey’ or ‘baby.’ Depends on the woman. But don’t worry, I haven’t used those names in quite a long time.”
“Two months isn’t that long.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Ouch, Babydoll!”
“Oh, c’mon now Johnny! I’m not shaming you! I’m just saying.”
He leaned against the bar. “How do you know it’s been two months?”
“That’s how long we’ve been shooting,” she replied.
He shook his head. “Well, you’re wrong. It’s actually been six months.”
“Poor you.”
“Yeah it’s been difficult,” he laughed. “But what about you? You must be picking up guys left and right.”
Her eyes widened. “Me? Absolutely not! I mean, I used to but, uh….” Her voice trailed off. “It’s been a while for me.”
“Six months for you too?”
“Two years actually.”
His mouth dropped. “Really?”
“Really.” She tapped on the rim of her glass. “After awhile it stopped being fun so I decided to focus on me and my work.”
He nodded, impressed. “Good for you, Babydoll.”
She hummed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything. Shoot.”
“I need you to level with me here because it’s been bothering me for the last couple of weeks. When you call me ‘Babydoll,” are you flirting with me?”
Johnny’s grin widening, signaling to her that she might have made this worse somehow. She exhaled sharply, feeling the heat of embarrassment in her face.
“Yeah, ok, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up from the chair.
“No, hey, wait.”
She turned to see Johnny’s hand holding on to hers. Her eyes glanced up at him to find him staring at her once again with complete sincerity.
“You’re really askin’ me that? Has that really not been obvious the entire time?”
She stopped fighting to hide her smile as heart beat picked up it’s pace.
“Well are you gonna do something about it?” she asked.
Johnny pulled her face to his, his lips devouring hers. The second their lips touched, she felt the electricity, the high, and the energy all at once. And yet, she also felt a comfort she’d never experienced in her years of kissing. If a kiss were ever to make sense to a person, this one did to her. It was as if all her years of kissing had led up to this moment.
A moment in which it felt the world was theirs and theirs only.
They pulled away, his breath on hers. She opened her eyes to find his dark brown eyes looking into her, almost in disbelief in what just happened.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that,”’ she said, hoping maybe his disbelief would settle into relief.
And it did, before that damn smirk returned to his face.
“Oh, Babydoll, I’m gonna show you what else I’ve been wanting to do with you.”
======================================
She woke up tangled in heavy sheets. She looked over to see Johnny lying on his back, fast asleep.
To say the night before had been exhilarating was putting it rather lightly. At least to her.
Then, out of nowhere it hit her. That damn pang in her chest that reminded her of why she stopped sleeping around. She had grown attached.
But none of those nights felt like last night and you’re not the woman you used to be she tried to rationalize to herself.
And while her heart agreed, her head told her it was time for her to run as fast as could.
She pulled the covers off and knelt down on the floor, grabbing her underwear and shirt first. She slid on the underwear and threw her shirt over her head.
As she leaned down to pick her jeans, she heard a voice grumble, “What’re you doing?”
She looked over to see Johnny awake and rubbing his face.
“I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“Impossible. Come back to bed.”
“But-.”
“I promise I’ll buy you breakfast from that diner you like.”
She stopped. “How do you know about that?”
“I’ll tell you if you come back to bed.”
She sighed and crawled back into bed. Johnny smiled as he threw an arm around her, nestling his nose against hers.
“Too early to be up,” he whispered. “Also, Holly told me you like it there.”
She exhaled as she prepared herself for the worst. “Look, I like you, but I’m not into the whole friends with benefits thing. I’m sorry if that ruins everything, but I can’t do it, especially not with you.”
Much to her surprise, he chuckled. “We’re not gonna be friends with benefits.”
“Then what-.”
“You and I are gonna go on a date. Tonight. I’m gonna take you to this place I think you’ll like and we’ll see what happens from there, but I have a good feeling we’re gonna go on another and then some more after that.”
Her heart burst at the thought. Still, she kept her excitement to herself and just smiled at him. “Is that so?”
“I know so.”
She licked her lips and nodded. “Then that works with me.”
He pecked her lips before pulling her closer to him.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me before?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you?” he countered playfully.
“Because, look at you. You’re smart, courageous, handsome, and the kind of guy every woman wants.”
The way his smile softened had her wondering if maybe she’d said something wrong.
“And here I was, afraid you’d see that you’re too good for me,” he said.
She laughed. “Trust me, I’m not.”
“Well, I happen to disagree so we’re just gonna leave it at that.”
He pecked her lips and closed his eyes. She pulled back her lips.
“Johnny?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want me to call you Johnny or by your real name?”
He opened his eyes. “How’d you know Johnny’s not my real name?”
“I was in charge of your paperwork and I saw your real name. Philip John, right?”
He nodded. “Or P.J. for short.”
“P.J.?”
He smiled, licking his lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody say that name as sweet as you.”
She beamed. “Then it’s settled. I’ll call you P.J. and you can call me Y/N or Babydoll.”
“You got it, Babydoll.”
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gabessquishytum · 4 months
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We love to imagine Hob as the best boyfriend ever, and he is, but what if he gets carried away once he and Dream finally get together, and fucks up? Dream is absolutely in awe that Hob waited for him. He comes to realize that his friendship skills are pretty much non-existent, and he has been a shitty friend for the last six centuries. So, when Hob suddenly confesses his feelings (late friendly dinner something something, he got too emotional over the stars in Dream's eyes something something), Dream decides to do anything and everything to be the best partner ever. The problem is, his dating history sucks, his marriage fell apart, but he consoles himself with the thought that at least he's a good lay. That's when he comes to a second realization of millennia - he is not, in fact, a good lay at all. All of his affairs were very brief, he never spent a significant time with his partner, and even when he was married, he and Calliope were mostly minding their own business, each of them too passionate about their respective domains. Dream decides to solve the problem in the most Dream way - to go with the flow, the flow being Hob's desires in this case. And Hob, having lusted over his stranger for six hundred years, just can't get enough. They start with regular sex, but things progressively get more and more kinky - by Hob's initiative. And when he learns of Morpheus' omnipotence in the Dreaming - holy fuck, he's just bursting with ideas. Dream does his best to accommodate all of them, though deep inside, he reluctantly admits that he's not really into any heavy kinks. Actually, he's not into kinks at all and prefers a very standard vanilla sex, which, in his eyes, is unforgivable for someone who contains a collective unconscious with all its wet dreams and sexual fantasies. Hob is too enraptured by their blossoming romance, Dream's powers, and his own lust to notice that Dream gets more and more depressed as time goes by. Perhaps it lasts for months, and eventually, it's Desire who snaps after watching this horny shitshow from afar and gives Hob a shovel talk. They don't have the best relationships with Dream, alright, but this is too much even for them. Despair joins them because she's also done with Dream lingering in her realm - he has his own, can he just stay there, please? She'd rather hang out with her rats. Hob is petrified when he sees how much he fucked up. And it's not like HE is into heavy kinks himself - it's funny to experiment, yes, but he's experimented enough in his lifetime, and he'd be pretty happy with vanilla sex with Dream. He'd be happy with Dream even with no sex at all, he simply got carried away, and he also wanted to impress his stranger with all his skills. Who knew how wrong it would go...And who knows how to fix it all now? Lots of hurt/comfort potential!
Ah, I love these idiots so much. I am absolutely enraptured with the idea of Desire stepping in to do some kind of marriage counselling, by the way. They grab Dream by the scruff of his neck, plop him down in a chair next to Hob, and they refuse to let either of them go until feelings have been talked about and everything is okay again.
First of all Hob is tearing his hair out because HOLY SHIT he's a bad boyfriend!!! He didn't mean it of course, but he fucked up!!! Desire smacks him over the head again and tells him to stop feeling sorry for himself, though. He can't fix this with self deprecation.
Dream also gets a smack (albeit not as heavy handed) because if he doesn't start talking, Desire is going to do it for him! They will NOT allow Dream to be crushed and walked all over by another shitty partner but they will also not allow Dream to sabotage this all by himself.
So: Dream is coerced into making a list of the sexual things he actually wants to do with Hob in both the waking and the dreaming. Dream is so embarrassed and horrified because his list is like, 4 items long and he feels like a failure! But he's surprised because Hob seems so pleased. Now he knows what Dream actually likes, and apparently that makes him happy.
Desire is quite pleased by their little counselling venture. Maybe they'll take it up as a hobby. If Dream can finally get back to experiencing authentic desire, and Hob can finally get back to being world's best boyfriend, then they'll consider it a job well done.
And Dream does eventually become a very lay, by the way. Turns out he just needed practice, and the opportunity to just do the things that he likes. Which he absolutely deserves - as do we all!
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archangeldyke-all · 5 months
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*heavy breathing* I need more protective Sev, that bodyguard fic had me foaming at the mouth...anyways please may I request vigilante!sevika x journalist!reader
i was up all night thinking about this ask anon this is such a good idea
men and minors dni
"you really won't come with me?" you ask. sevika laughs across the table at you.
"fuck no."
"sevika!" you pout. she shakes her head.
"what made you think i'd say yes? you know i hate the promenade." she grunts. you roll your eyes.
"but you're just invested in this story as i am!"
"you don't know they'll strike tonight."
"right. the masked vigilante that's been picking off zaun's corrupt rich one by one won't be attending the biggest gala of the year, that makes sense. don't be stupid sev! they're gonna be there, and they're gonna take their next victim, and i'm gonna be there to catch 'em. and then you're gonna feel like an asshole for not comin' with me."
"'catch 'em'?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes.
"no, fine, not catch 'em. just ask 'em a few questions." you say, leaning back in your chair as the waitress arrives with your food.
you've been investigating this vigilante since they started their work about a year ago. you don't know much, just that they're protecting the people of zaun better than any piltover enforcer ever has. they're quick and efficient, they don't leave a trace. they'll kill anyone from corrupt businessmen who live on the promenade to lowlife domestic abusers in the depths of the undercity.
you work for the local radio station, you get a weekly hour long segment where you can talk about whatever you want. lately, this mysterious vigilante has been all you've talked about.
about six months ago, you got a visitor at work. sevika. she told you she'd heard your segment last night, and she was fascinated with the new hero of zaun. you'd never met the woman before, but the two of you became fast friends discussing the vigilante and comparing notes. and now, she's abandoning you.
"i can't believe you. you're supposed to be my partner in crime!" you pout as you tuck into your sandwich. sevika chuckles around her burger.
"i've got a job, you know." she says. you roll your eyes.
"you don't work nights." you grunt. sevika chuckles.
"maybe i just don't wanna meet my hero. aren't you worried you'll meet 'em and they'll be... normal?"
"what are you talking about, that would be amazing! a normal person taking justice into their own hands? protecting the vulnerable and poor? that's the story of the year right there!" you say, throwing a french fry at sevika across the table. she just rolls her eyes and tosses the fry in her mouth.
the gala blows. you spent half your paycheck on a dress nice enough for this, and you're definitely regretting it. it's just a bunch of rich people who make their money off exploited miners making speeches about how hard they worked for their money. at least the food's good. and the drinks are free.
you've caught no sight of anyone who looks like your mysterious vigilante. the worst part is sevika's gonna be a know-it-all asshole about it. you can already hear her now, 'i told you it'd be a bust,' and 'i can't believe you spent that much on a dress!' you pout. she's such an asshole. you're still a bit pissed she didn't come with you. you were looking forward to seeing her in a suit or dress, maybe dancing with her for a bit, making fun of rich assholes all night long as you both slip fancy silverware into your purse to sell later.
you sigh. you've been daydreaming about sevika a lot lately. the teeny tiny crush you've had on her since the moment you met her has grown ten times in size, and now you're so hopelessly in love with your friend that you can't go twenty minutes without thinking about her. fuck this, you're going to smoke.
you make your way to the balcony, leaning against the wall and fishing a joint out of your purse. shit. you don't have a lighter.
there's a man beside you smoking a cigar. you recognize him from the papers, the CEO of some chemtech company that's in deep shit right now for it's human experimentation. "you need a light?" he asks. you snatch the lighter out of his outstretched hand, lighting your joint before passing it back. "what, no thank you?" he asks with a smirk. you roll your eyes.
"my cousin was one of the poor fucks who signed up to get poked and prodded by your scientists. died three weeks later. all for a hundred extra bucks." you spit out. the man chuckles.
"i'm sorry for your loss, dear, but you should know i had nothing to do with it." you take a long drag off your joint, considering how many nights you'd spend in jail if you decked this fucker right here and now. "i was just as shocked as the public was when these accusations came to light!" he insists, his cocky smirk never leaving his lips. you roll your eyes. "what's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone, anyways?" he asks. you scoff at him.
"working." you say. he raises an eyebrow at you and you turn to go back inside. before you can push the door open, he's got a hand around your wrist.
"working? what kind of work do you do?" he asks, his eyes trailing up and down your body. "anything i can... support you in?" he asks as he licks his lips. you scoff.
"fuck you! i'm not a hooker! and even if i was i'd rather die than sleep with a spineless fuck like you." you grunt as you struggle against his hold. he backhands you, and you gasp, your hand coming up to hold your cheek.
"you better watch your mouth, girl." he grunts out, crowding you against the balcony railing. you gulp.
you're trapped. if you back up any further, you'll tip over the ledge and fall a few hundred feet to your death. his hands are pinned on either side of you, and in front of you his growing erection is pressing against your thigh. panic starts to build in your chest. "get the fuck off of me." you squeak. he chuckles.
"and why would i do that? i got you right where i want you now." he whispers against your ear. you shiver. "don't worry, honey. once i'm done with you i'll send you home with enough money to feed you for a month." tears start welling in your eyes as you push against his chest. he brings his hand up to choke you. you whimper. "if you keep makin' noises like that, i'll pay you double." he grunts.
behind him, something falls and lands on the balcony with a thump. you can't make out what it is, and he doesn't seem to notice. just as your vision begins fading in the corners, his grip on your throat releases. you gasp in a quick breath and watch as the man stumbles backwards. you blink. he's holding his own neck now, with both hands, as blood trickles through his fingers. you blink again. his stumbling stops when he backs into something, and he turns around to look at his assailant.
you look at them at the same time.
six foot something, broad shoulders, shrouded in black clothing, a ski mask over their face, blood dripping off the pink sword being sheathed back into their copper arm. you blink.
the man collapses to his knees in front of the vigilante, choking on his own blood. they don't seem to notice, their silver eyes locked on yours. the fear and panic in your body recede, something similar to glee rising up. you smile.
"sev?" you ask, tentatively. the eyes behind the mask blink. you giggle. "are you fucking kidding me?!" you ask, giddy. the vigilante before you sighs, their shoulders falling, a hand coming up to scratch the back of their head.
by your feet, the man's gargling and wheezing subsides. he's dead, finally. you step over his corpse into sevika's space, slowly reaching up to fiddle with her ski mask. she doesn't smack you away, so you slowly pull the mask up and over her face.
sevika's biting her lip, a worried look in her eye. you giggle. "you had work, huh?" you ask. she shrugs.
"i mean, technically this is work." she says. you shake your head in disbelief.
"i can't fuckin' believe you. this whole time?" you ask. she shrugs.
"i-- i didn't think we'd become friends." she admits. "i just wanted to make sure you weren't gonna expose me." she says. "i didn't really expect--" she cuts herself off. you blink up at her.
"expect what?" you ask.
"i didn't expect you." she finishes simply. you open your mouth to ask her what she means, but you're distracted by the shadow of a figure approaching the glass door that leads to the balcony.
"shit. you need to go." you say, pulling her mask back down over her face. she glances behind her and curses.
"fuck." she grunts, before turning and leaping up to catch the lip of the roof. she pulls herself up, then turns to reach her hand down for you. "come on." she says. you blink, then reach up to take her hand.
she pulls you up to the roof effortlessly, steadying you as you take your heels off to walk better on the slanted slate tiles as you both run away from the scene of the crime. sevika takes you back the way you suppose she'd came, down a fire escape, across a ladder between two roofs, then down into a dingy alleyway.
she catches you before your feet can get mangled by broken glass and pebbles on the alleyway, holding you bridal style. you giggle. she gulps. "you're ridiculous." you say. she shrugs. "did you know i was out there with him?" you ask. she shakes her head no.
"just heard a struggle." she says. "he wasn't the initial target tonight, but... i'm glad i went after him instead."
"me too." you say. she huffs above you. you bite your lip. "i really missed you tonight." you admit. sevika blinks down at you.
"i was gonna tell you eventually, you know." she says. you smile.
"it's okay." you say. she shakes her head no. "what?" you ask.
"it's not. you're my best friend and i've been keeping way too many secrets from you. i know i can trust you it's just..." she trails off.
"secrets?" you ask. she freezes. you laugh. "come on, sev, it can't be worse than 'i'm actually the masked hero you've been obsessed with for the past year'." you say. she huffs. you elbow her.
"i'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." you say. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.
"you got secrets?"
"just one." you say, shrugging. sevika blinks.
"okay." she says. you gulp.
"okay. put me down." you demand. sevika tosses your heels onto the ground before gently helping you into them. she keeps her hands on your hips as you wobble, shoving your feet into the shoes. she doesn't move them once you're done.
"so?" she asks. you sigh.
"if i tell you this and you act like a jackass i'm telling all of zaun your secret identity." you whisper. sevika laughs at the empty threat.
"no you wouldn't, you're not a snitch." she says. you huff.
"i know." you say. then you shrug, look sevika in her eye, and speak. "i'm kinda in love with you." you say. sevika freezes, her hands on your hips clenching into your flesh.
"'me' like, me? or 'me' like... me?" she asks, gesutring at her all black get up. you chuckle.
"you like you, sevika. you. the you i've actually known for half a year. i mean the whole vigilante thing is hot, sure, but. you're the one i'm always thinking about." you whisper.
"you think about me more than the new hero of zaun?" she asks, disbelieving. you chuckle.
"is it that hard to believe?" you ask. she gulps.
"a bit. you're very dedicated to your work. almost figured me out a few times there." she says. you laugh.
"so?" you ask. she blinks at you. "what's your other secret?" you ask. a smile slowly crawls up her face.
"oh." she says, like she's just remembering her end of the deal. "can i just show you instead?" she asks. you blink, then nod.
you expect her to take you somewhere, or maybe pull something out of her pocket. maybe she's gonna show you another feature on her mech arm, or maybe she's got a secret hideout somewhere.
what you don't expect, is for sevika to surge forward, both hands coming up to cup your jaw, her lips crashing against yours.
you squeak in surprise, then moan in pleasure, your hands coming up to wrap around sevika's strong shoulders as her hands move down to grip your waist. she presses you against the wall of the alleyway, sighing against your lips in relief, shoving a thigh between your legs. you gasp and pull away to look at her.
sevika's grinning down at you, a cocky little glint in her eye.
"surprise." she whispers against your lips. you giggle, then pull her down for another kiss.
your listeners are gonna be pissed when you give up your search for zaun's new hero. oh well, you think as you press your lips against sevika's, sevika will help me come up with a new story.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
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victoriansecret · 9 months
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How did you get into living history as a profession?
In eighth grade, on my big school field trip, we visited my current museum. At the time I didn't think about it as a job, I just wanted to live here. Which I now literally do: I live in one of the reconstructed buildings inside the historic town. The same year, my history teacher was very good, and structured his class in ways that worked for me very well. For one thing, he'd tell the anecdotal, often amusing parts of history, not just pure dates and names. And more importantly, he had couches in the back of the classroom arranged in a circle, where after reading the chapter we were on the whole class would go back there and talk about it. I am a very auditory person, so this helped me tremendously. It also, not so coincidentally, is very similar to how this field works. The term for the work I do, internally, is called "historic interpretation". I try not to use that term with guests unless I can explain it, but basically, if you can imagine what a language interpreter does - that is, turning a foreign language into something a person can understand - that's what we do with history. Help people better understand it, who may not otherwise know much about it. There's a lot more to it, and for anyone interested in the field, I highly recommend the seminal work on interpretation (not just historic, but also nature, science etc.): Freeman Tilden's Interpreting Our Heritage. He had been contracted by the National Parks service for decades to observe how park service guides interacted with guests, and from that develop an understanding of what works and what doesn't, and did a lot of training for the parks. This book was the culmination of all that, where he breaks interpretation down to his six primary principles, to each of which he devotes a chapter explaining them in depth. There are updated works which expand on it, but part of why his work still stands up (and is, in my opinion, still far better than any of the others) despite being published in the 1950s is that he really gets down to the basic core of what interpretation is and can be. I am not ashamed to say I literally cried the first time I read it, because it exemplifies why I care so deeply about the work that I do. To quote what is, in my opinion, the most important and core of his principles, he writes that: "Interpretation is not information, but provocation." That is to say, all interpretation is based on information, but the goal is not to come away with every guest interaction having shared so many facts, but rather to have inspired them to be interesting in the subject more deeply and want to learn more. This is what happened to me, all those years ago. Between that class and that field trip, it made me realize I loved history. In hindsight I now realize I already did - I loved Jane Austen film adaptations, for example, and was already beginning my obsession with servants - I just didn't like or connect with the way it had been taught to me up until that point. And again, interpretation as an idea in and of itself, beyond just the things being shared, also became something I was enamoured with.
About 12 years later, I was working at a restaurant which was destroying my mental and physical health, and I knew I needed a change. I also desperately needed to get away from my home town. I thought about the things I liked (history), was good at (talking to people), and wanted to do (wear period clothing -- and again, get away), so I thought maybe I could work at a historic museum. Long story short, I began applying to various places, including my current museum. Eventually, I ended up working at a seasonal site in Michigan, where I spent four 'summers' (for the last three, I was there from beginning of May until end of October), and with that experience was able to get my first full time job at my current place. Which I eventually left to go to another museum, only to come back about a year and a half later. ..... as an aside, and I like to tell this story especially for anyone aspiring to get into this field, or really in general, my first boss once told me why she gave me an interview. My restaurant job was my only job ever, and while by that point I had my GED, I was a highschool dropout and have never been to college. I've worked with hundreds of colleagues since, and not counting people still in school, I think I can count on one hand the people that do interpretation specifically who are not college graduates (not to mention many with Masters and PHDs etc), let alone have never gone at all like me. In my cover letter for that first job, I made an analogy. My job at the restaurant was running the salad bar, and because it was in the middle of the dining room, I said something along the lines that it meant I was "always on display", so that would help me in being in such a visible job in period clothing etc. and always having to be 'on' for guests. Because analogies, and connecting to things people understand to help them better grasp the information being shared, are such a huge part of the job, she, in her own words, "knew she needed to give me an interview." And because I am, in fact, good at talking, I knocked it out of the park. ..... which is not to say I didn't have a lot to learn when I started, it was truly a struggle at first on a lot of levels, but these days I think I am an excellent interpreter. And considering I have very low self-esteem overall, it's one of the only things about myself that I'll say that about.
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