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chrissybrown1127 · 9 months

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She’s so pretty and such a good mixture of Brandi and Skip.

#sims2 #thesims #thesims2 #thesims2ultimatecollection #pleasantview #unborn baby broke #bethany broke

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annachibisims · 2 years

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Just a normal night at the Broke household

#sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #pleasantview #beau broke #bethany broke #dustin broke #angela pleasant #pleasantly strange

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shivunin · 1 year

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Sleight of Hand

(Maria Hawke/Fenris | 7374 Words | AO3 | No warnings)

Here's the magician AU I have been talking about. I may write more in this AU at some point, but for now this is the whole story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it c: (and here is what I was listening to as I wrote this)

In the hours before showtime, Hawke sometimes liked to come to the stage and stand just behind the curtains. Nothing else. Just—stand there, eyes closed, and listen.

There was a heartbeat to the old theater. In quiet moments, she could almost feel the pulse of it. There: the echo of past applause, the soft swish swish of years of push brooms across the empty stage, the murmurs of a thousand chorus girls and backup dancers. There—the hush as bows rising over violins, hovering over still strings. And there—spots squeaking as they pivoted to the correct position, just before the light inside was lit. It was like a sharp inhale, like the twitch of a muscle about to contract, like toes pressed to the very edge of a precipice.

Or maybe that was just her own fanciful thinking.

“Hawke,” the dry voice of her stage assistant called from the wings, “It is four thirty.”

One breath: in and out.

It was time.

“Coming,” she called back, stepping away from the dusty velvet. “Say, Fenris, do you ever stand onstage and hear the echoes of performances past?”

A pause.

“No,” he said.

When she turned to look at him, she found him already dressed for the show in the customary snow-white shirt, black vest accented with lines of silvery embroidery, and deep black trousers. From the audience, the watchers would not see the many-times-mended seams, the shabby cuffs, nor most of the pale tattoos covered by each. He’d told her there was no sense in covering them—and he was right, for they showed through his shirtsleeves in the stage lights—but at least covering them gave the impression that they weren’t up for casual discussion.

The illusion provided by both was for the best. Most people learned the hard way that Fenris did not like to talk about the markings, and the shabbiness of his clothes was her fault, for she’d had little spare money to spend on fixing it.

“Really?” Hawke asked, walking toward him. “Not even a peep?”

“No,” he said again, but this time the corner of his mouth twitched.

Ah; he was in a good mood tonight. One could never tell.

“I suspect you invent these things for your own entertainment,” he went on, uncrossing his arms and shifting from one foot to the other. “Or perhaps you simply enjoy asking me nonsensical questions.”

“Oh, it’s both,” she said earnestly, widening her eyes. “You’re ever so attractive when you look at me like I’ve gone mad.”

That garnered a snort, which from him might as well have been uproarious laughter. Fenris fell in step beside her as she passed him, and they began to make their way from the wings to her narrow dressing room.

She’d been desperate when they’d first met, facing down an hour and a half to showtime and an assistant who’d delightedly told Hawke she was running off to Rivain with her beau. Hawke had gone to the portion of Lowtown where folk looked for work, and there she’d found him.

Fenris had been scowling and plainly exhausted, clearly the worst possible choice for the task. Hawke had asked him to come anyway, because there was something about him that she’d seen then and saw now, some intangible quality that made her want to do something for him. If the show went poorly, it was just one show. She’d offered him the job on the spot and—well, three months (or was it four?) later, here they were. He hadn’t given her reason to regret it yet, though he’d be the first to admit that he’d tried.

Hawke didn’t have to think very hard to find the next topic of conversation. Work was always easy to fall back on.

“So,” she said, “about the trick before the cups—”

“Absurd,” he murmured, then gestured gracefully, “but go on.”

“The box is an audience-pleaser and I’ve adjusted the swords better this time. Please reconsider.”

He sighed.

“Fenris,” she said, and the pair of them paused before her dressing room door.

“Hawke.”

Maria grinned at him, delighted as ever by the dryness in his voice, then turned the doorknob and walked inside. The lamps were already lit—his doing, no doubt—and both of them politely pretended that there wasn’t a dent in the couch roughly the size and shape of his body.

“I do not believe that this trick is—is that another bruise?” he asked, darting in front of her. Hawke drew up short and angled her chin upward, neither hiding nor stepping away. His fingertips hovered just above her cheekbone for a moment before he took a step back.

“Yes,” she said brightly, and edged around him to sit at the dressing table. She would still need to change, and Honeybun needed to stretch her legs, and—

“How?” he asked. When she glanced at him in the mirror, his brows had drawn tightly together.

There had been a time not very long ago—perhaps three months now—when he’d scowled at her like that all the time. She hadn’t even noticed when his expression had started to soften.

“Picked a fight, as usual,” she said, lifting the first of many makeup brushes. “But good news: the idiot won’t be stealing from the coffee seller again. Oh, also I got paid.”

She smiled at Fenris in the mirror, but he wasn’t having it. He rolled his eyes and turned away instead, reaching under the rack of costumes to flip the cage door open.

“Come on, then,” he said, irritation underscoring his voice.

A rabbit, carmel-patched and floppy-eared, hopped from her enclosure and wiggled her nose at him. Fenris took a berry from the bowl on the side table and placed it gravely before Honeybun, who set upon it with leporine delight.

Hawke smiled to herself. When he’d first arrived, he’d regarded the rabbit with the narrow-eyed suspicion usually reserved for snakes. She supposed he must see more of Honeybun than she did these days, given that he was quietly occupying this room for most of the hours that Hawke herself was not in it. Even so, there was something sweet about the way he gingerly leaned down and ran a hand over the rabbit’s head.

Maria looked away before Fenris could catch her watching and began to get ready for the act as if she’d never noticed anything at all.

Fenris would be the first to acknowledge that it was a ridiculous situation.

Once, he had been a feared living weapon, chained at a magister’s side as a deterrent to the mage’s enemies. Once, he had left a trail of heartless bodies from Tevinter to Seheron. Now, he donned a sparkly vest and stood on stage in front of a crowd, pretending that Hawke’s sleight of hand meant the same thing as magic.

It was not without purpose. He told himself this often, when he lay on the lumpy couch in the dressing room at night, when he worked through fighting forms in the quiet of the morning, when he straightened his vest and readied himself to step onstage yet again four evenings a week and twice on Saturdays.

This was not without purpose—but that did not make it any less ridiculous.

“Alright there, Rog,” Hawke was saying to their audience volunteer for the night. “You see that all the cups have nothing in them, yes? No sticky honey on the inside, no secret bottom?”

The boy, freckled and gap-toothed, nodded and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

“They look alright,” he agreed. “Nothing funny inside.”

“Wonderful,” Hawke said, bestowing the full force of her smile on the poor boy, who flushed red enough to mask his many orange freckles. “Now, I am going to put the ball under one of the cups and move them around. Then, you’re going to tell me which cup the ball is under. Alright? If you pick the right one, we have a prize.”

She gestured to Fenris, who sighed and displayed the prize in question: a “wand” of black-painted wood with a white tip. The boy’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“Alright!” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Wonderful,” Hawke said, displaying the ball with a flourish before tucking it under the first cup.

This part was always fast by necessity, but Fenris was familiar with it by now. He could see the blur of the ball when she angled the cup just so and it shot into her sleeve. The first few times, though—he might have wondered if it was some sort of magic, though he knew it wasn’t. He could often feel the echo of magic through the tattoos, like the ripples thrown by a rock cast into a still pond. He’d never felt them during her act; whatever she did onstage, it did not involve the Fade at all.

The rest of the scene went precisely as anticipated: the astonished boy picked an empty cup. Hawke revealed that they were all empty, produced the ball from behind the boy’s ear to the audience’s delight, and then sent him off with the little ball even though it was the last of their current stock. Fenris had found this routine absurd at first; he hated to admit to himself now that he thought it was…endearing, perhaps, that she insisted on doing this for the young audience participants even though it inconvenienced her. The boy, stunned, wandered back offstage with many a backward glance at the magician herself.

For her part, Hawke grinned at the audience, bowed with a flourish that scattered light over her red coat, and moved smartly on to the next trick: producing Honeybun from her tophat.

It was as Fenris found his place behind the table that hid the rabbit that he looked up at the audience and saw them.

There: at last, a half dozen fighters dressed in Tevinter garb.

It was almost a relief to see them here, when he’d been expecting them from the first moment he stepped onstage. It wasn’t a trap he’d placed, so to speak, but these performances had been a lure of sorts. And now—now his pursuers would show their hand at last, in the time and place of Fenris’s choosing.

One of the fighters smiled to Fenris and stood, walking toward the rear doors in the audience. The others followed, leaving a large section of the back row empty. Fenris’s blood thrummed in his ears, adrenaline pouring into his system. It was an effort not to call on the markings, but there would be no fight in the moment. They would be waiting outside instead, perhaps with some sort of conveyance to stuff him into. A cage was always easier to begin with; it allowed them to deprive the occupant of food and water, to control their sleep without needing to worry about danger to the slave hunters, and—

The kick to his shin brought him back to himself.

“—must be feeling shy today. Well folks, how about a hand for Her Serene Fluffiness? Maybe we can coax her out from the mysterious beyond.”

The audience cheered accordingly and Fenris realized he’d missed his cue. Of course he had; he’d finally gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? He could walk off the stage right now and it would not matter one bit.

Only—only Hawke had found him in that alley, hungry and cold, and offered him a job on the spot. He’d never been anything but dry and skeptical during these performances, but she’d never once faulted him for it or suggested he leave. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it—though why continued to elude him. She’d slipped the key to her dressing room into his pocket that first day and she’d never once walked in on him there no matter how wary he’d been in the early days.

Fenris owed her nothing. He performed a job and she paid him for it. But��if this was to be his last evening with her here, he owed it to her to finish this well.

Fenris found the catch under the table without looking and flipped it, opening the trap door to the hidden rabbit cage within.

“And—Abracadabra!” Hawke said, tapping the brim of the top hat with a flourish. When she reached into the hat and scooped Honeybun from the depths, Fenris felt a pang.

It was an absurd trick. It had always been an absurd trick.

But—he would miss the cursed creature.

He’d…miss the way Hawke smiled at the rabbit every time she lifted it from the hat, as if surprised and delighted to find it there.

“Oh, dear,” Hawke said, cuddling Honeybun in her arms. “But you can’t help me do any of my tricks, can you, darling? Perhaps my lovely assistant can keep track of you for the moment. Let’s see—ah! A treat for your troubles, my little friend.”

With a flick of her fingers, she produced a strawberry seemingly from thin air and smiled down at the rabbit. Honeybun took the berry from her hand, nose wiggling furiously, and Hawke held the creature out to Fenris.

Hawke must have seen something in his expression; her eyes searched his face as Fenris took the rabbit from her. He looked right back, taking in the wink of the gold tucked in amongst her curls, the scar that crossed one eyebrow and fell just below her eye, the bruise she’d barely managed to cover with powder, the way her upper lip was just slightly larger than the lower one, and the determined set to her chin.

There was much he would have liked to say to her in that moment. The words crowded in his throat, chokingly thick, but—well. The show must go on, as she often said. Fenris settled Honeybun in his arms instead, noting absently the warm softness of the fur, the soft movements as she went on nibbling her strawberry, and nodded once to Hawke to indicate that all was well enough.

“Alright, folks,” she said, turning and spreading her arms wide. “You’ve seen wonders tonight, haven’t you?”

A cheer from the audience.

“You’ve been delighted and entertained, amazed and awakened to the possibilities of the world—well, now it’s time for the grand finale.”

Fenris stroked his hand once over the rabbit’s back, tension riding the base of his neck.

Yes, it did seem like it was time for a finale.

There was something wrong with her assistant.

Maria had noticed it most of the way through the act, but the oddness in his manner hadn’t gone away when they’d returned to the changing room. She set the last of the baubles in her hair aside and turned at last to look at Fenris. He was keyed up in a way he hadn’t been for months, shifting from foot to foot and tensing at every sound from the hall beyond.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and Fenris flinched. Hawke half-rose at the sight of it, but sat again when he took a step back.

“If something’s happened—” she began, fingers curling around the arm of the chair, but he gestured sharply.

“It is nothing,” he said. “You need to go.”

“I need to go?” she asked, brows rising. “Forgive me, serah, but I was under the impression that this is my dressing room. I have no intention of walking home in this.”

She gestured to her outfit—still the stage costume—and Fenris grimaced.

“Here, then,” he said, taking the stack of her street clothes from the couch arm, “change and go.”

Hawke took them, but she didn’t go.

“Fenris,” she said quietly, “please. Whatever this is—let me help.”

There was sweat along his forehead, and his hair had fallen out of the neat quiff he wore during the act. They weren’t quite friends—he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in getting attached to this place—but the two of them worked very well together. And…well, she’d never say it to him aloud, but here and onstage with him was the only times she felt she could simply be herself. Not a sister or a daughter, not the glue that held her friend group together, but Maria the Magician and only that.

“No,” he said, just as quietly, but iron-firm.

Right.

Hawke turned away and went into the back section of the room, where the tiny bathroom was located. It was quick, silent work to change out of her costume, to set aside the tuxedo shirt, the red coat, the matching skirt and shiny shoes. It was quick work, but she worried the whole time and her hands were unsteady on the buttons of her trousers when she did them up.

Returning to the room didn’t help. Fenris watched her while she hung up her clothes, and he was waiting with an extended hand when she was finished.

Hawke looked down at his hand, and then at his face. He’d made it abundantly clear that he did not want her to touch him on the first day they’d met. She’d moved to do the simplest of tricks—pull a coin from behind his ear so he could buy himself lunch—but he’d caught her wrist lightning-fast and forbade her to try it again. They passed things back and forth onstage, but that was the closest they’d ever come to touching skin to skin.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

She took his hand anyway and sucked in a breath when she felt the hard metal hidden there. Fenris clasped her hand between his, pressing the key to the dressing room into her palm. His hands were callused and warm around the smooth, cool metal he held. There was absolutely no reason to feel the way she did about touching him—they were hands, for the Maker’s sake—but she felt something nonetheless, a bubbling sensation in her chest. It wasn’t helped by the knowledge that he was…he must be…

“Thank you,” he said in that low, serious voice. “For—everything, Hawke.”

She didn’t let go when he did. For a moment, they lingered there, the key pressed between their palms.

What could she say? He’d already refused to explain himself, had already made it clear that he didn’t want her here. What more could she possibly say if he would not allow her to help?

“You need to go,” he said, extricating his hand from her grasp. When he stepped aside, there was a clear path to the door.

Fine.

Fine, she would go—but she’d be damned if she left him to the jaws of whatever fate he’d resigned himself to. Hawke nodded, passing him closely enough that she felt the heat radiating from his body. She paused only once, the door held open in her hand. He was still watching her when she looked back.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, the words not quite a question.

Fenris hesitated. His mouth firmed and he half-nodded, an angled bow of the head that might have been assent or disagreement.

Hawke turned away and shut the door behind her. She strode toward the back door at a clip, taking her staff from the umbrella stand where she’d hidden it. She had people to find and not much time to fetch them here.

She could only hope that whatever Fenris was going to do, he would take his time doing it.

Fenris waited onstage, hands loose at his sides, dressed in the clothing he’d worn when he fled Seheron. Unfortunately, it remained the sturdiest he owned; whatever could be said about Danarius, he’d wanted his pet bodyguard to be properly attired.

The theater around him was quiet. He’d waited until the crew were all gone, until the lights were doused, and then he’d crept from a hiding place along the catwalk and propped the back door open with a brick. They would be here soon; he had little doubt of that. At least here Fenris had the advantage of knowing precisely where everything was—especially given that the stage had already been prepared for Hawke’s show tomorrow evening and all of the usual props were positioned precisely where they’d be needed for the performance.

Fenris clenched his fist, eyes closed, listening. Do you ever stand onstage and hear the echoes of performances past? Hawke had asked him just that afternoon.

An absurd question—she seemed to enjoy being absurd—but standing here now, Fenris felt he almost understood what she meant. The past seemed to live in the empty spaces here, in its way.

Two steps to the left—that was where she’d first tapped his wrist with her so-called wand and drawn a full bouquet from his sleeve. There—just to the right, beside the table—that was where he’d first asked her if anyone fell for this farce of an act. She’d laughed in his face, then announced to the crowd that every performer should have a skeptic on hand, lest they become too full of themselves. She’d given him a cut of the excess tips tossed into the hat after the show that night and every night since—had that been the first night or the second?—and told him he had a job as long as he wanted it.

Odd—because he’d only half-believed her at the time—but in his memory she looked uncharacteristically solemn when she’d said it. “Stay as long as you wish, Fenris,” she’d told him, and when he’d put his hand in his pocket later he’d found the heavy brass key inside.

Tonight, the stage curtains had been left open, as was usual after the audience was gone. If he opened his eyes, he would see all the way to the back of the theater where Hawke’s friends sat during weekend performances. They were loud—would always shout when she pulled off a trick, even if they’d seen it a dozen times before—and Fenris had always taken their presence as his cue to disappear swiftly after the show.

He wondered now if it would have been better to allow himself attachment to this place; if he had reached out sooner, would it have been easier to stay? He didn’t know. He was weary of running—and that was precisely what he would be doing when he left this place. Months ago, he’d thought to take a stand here and make an end of it, but—did he really think this would be the end of Danarius’s pursuit?

No. No, he knew better than that. Perhaps it would be worth it to consider staying here after—

A soft squeak: the hinges of the back door, perpetually overused and under-oiled.

Fenris took a deep, slow breath and released it, feeling along the lines of the lyrium markings. He was ready; he hadn’t spent these past months in idleness. He’d spent them eating properly and practicing in the privacy of Hawke’s dressing room. He was not the shell-shocked slave who’d escaped from Seheron, nor was he the desperate creature on the run through the hills and dales of the Free Marches, striking back just enough to survive before running again. Fenris would fight, and fight well—on his own behalf, for once.

It was a simple thing to turn and face backstage, to wait for them to come. It had been the work of months to reach a place where he would want to.

“Well, well, well,” an accented voice drawled from the wings, “would you look at that? The master’s stray dog, fresh from doing its little tricks onstage. How d’you think the magister will take it out of your hide when he finds out how you’ve been spending your time—little wolf?”

Little wolf. The disgust Fenris felt when the words crawled across his skin was so potent it was almost a physical sensation of its own.

“Come on, then,” the voice drawled. “Heel, boy. It doesn’t have to be a fight; you know it’s all over now, don’t you? Why make this hurt more than it has to?”

Fenris still couldn’t see the speaker, but he could see a dark shape on the catwalk above, moving quietly in the shadows. That was not good; he would need to remember to be especially wary of the space above his head.

“No.”

No. How easy it was to speak a denial of his own volition; how good it felt, even after months of running.

No, he would not go back without a fight. No, he was not Danarius’s little wolf anymore.

The speaker stepped from the wings at last, dressed in sturdy clothes—fighting clothes. Others revealed themselves, four on one side, six on the other. If he wasn’t mistaken, the man in robes to the left was a mage. Fenris was grossly outnumbered, even before he counted the ones hiding on the catwalk.

No matter. He would fight and die before he would allow himself to be dragged back to Tevinter. It could be—would be—that simple.

“You should know better,” the speaker said with a grotesque smile. “The magister never lets go of what belongs to him. Why bother running in the first place, slave?”

“Fenris is a free man.”

No.

Hawke’s voice came from behind him, somewhere in the audience. Fenris didn’t turn to look at her—he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the slave-hunters—but the man he’d been speaking to angled himself slightly to look down at her.

“How lovely,” he said. “And harboring an escaped slave. Stay back and we won’t take you with us when we haul this one off.”

Footsteps behind him; hard-heeled shoes on the stairs up to the stage. Fenris’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Hawke…” he said, and felt the stir of air beside him.

“You’re sorely mistaken,” she said in her stage voice, bright and loud, “He’s my stage assistant, not a slave. If you think I’m going to let you—”

“Let us?” the leader barked, laughing. “Let us? You don’t have to let us do anything, Pretty; you can’t stop us.”

Hawke still stood just behind him where Fenris could not quite see her. Fear tangled with the anger in his chest. Had he not told her to go? Had he been anything less than perfectly clear? She—foolish, impulsive—she had put herself in harm’s way for what?

“Hawke,” Fenris said, “I do not want your help. Leave.”

One step. A second, sharp against the black stage floor.

She came to a stop at his side, back straight, chin angled up. When she stood like this, the top of her head was level with his eyes.

“No,” she said pleasantly.

“Suit yourself,” the leader said, drawing a saber from his belt. “You’ll still look pretty enough in chains, girl.”

No.

“How sweet of you to say,” she said. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

He’d missed the staff in her hand—how, he didn’t know—but Fenris did not miss the wash of fire that poured from it when she struck it against the stage floor. It consumed the first of the slave-hunters all at once, so quickly that Fenris had not yet processed the fact that Hawke was a mage before everyone else was moving and it was too late to think.

Fenris darted toward the leader first, half because he presented the most immediate obstacle and half because of the threat he’d just made. It was one thing to risk himself and another entirely to risk—

No; not now. He did not have space to think of it now.

The spell caught him when Fenris called on the markings, ready to rip the man’s heart from his chest. A cage of light; he’d seen its like many times before, had been caught between its bars more than once. It crushed the air from his lungs, lifted his bare feet from the ground, and stopped his hand mid-motion. Fenris gritted his teeth against the pressure, bracing against the pain to come.

Instead, the spell ended, dropping him neatly back on his feet.

“No, thank you,” Hawke said cheerfully, “Why don’t you try it yourself and see what you think?”

Fenris felt the ripple of magic in a pulse across the markings, but again he had no space to think of this. The leader still stood nearby, thrusting the saber toward him, and Fenris caught the flat of it on his bracer, redirecting it harmlessly away. The others closed in quickly, and it would mean death or worse to be surrounded. Fenris reached into a man’s chest and crushed his heart in one smooth motion, ducked another blow, and thrust the dead man’s body in the way of another combatant.

He’d planned this; it did not matter that Hawke had arrived to upset all his strategies. Fenris snapped one man’s neck, caught another blade with the now-limp body, and slipped backward again, to the place where Hawke had stored his least favorite of her tricks.

The sword thrust into the box was usually dull for his protection, but he’d replaced it this afternoon. The one he pulled from the wood now was much wider and longer than her usual stage blades, and when he swung it before him it knocked back three of his opponents. Only two stood before him now, but the leader was nowhere to be found. Where—

Hawke cried out behind him and Fenris spun around, his chest tight. The slave-hunters’ leader held her tightly, an arm around her waist. There was a long cut across her cheek, spreading a curtain of blood over the freckled skin. It dripped from her jaw, making a darker patch on the collar of her red coat.

“You see?” the man panted. “Look what you’ve done. Now I won’t get near as much for her; she’s damaged goods.”

Hawke’s lips were pressed so hard together that they’d gone pale and her eyes were fixed on him. Fenris’s hands tightened on the hilt of the sword as he watched the scattered light of his markings dance across her dress. She should never have involved herself; he’d made it perfectly clear that she needed to go. And now—and now—

More of the fighters stepped from the wings in his periphery. Fenris stepped to the side to keep them and the leader in his view, but he was already calculating how he could possibly get her out of this with her neck intact. He was too far to rush the man; too slow to stay his hand. He could reach through her for the slave-hunter’s heart—but this was not something he’d done before without intending for both parties to die. Six more stepped onstage, then eight, then ten.

There was no way out of this. He could feel the certainty of that knowledge, rising with the sense of dread. Fenris would rather be dead than taken, would have gladly fought to that end alone. But she—how could he barter her own lifeblood the same way?

How could he do anything else?

“Drop the sword or I give her a matching set,” the leader said, angling the sword up until it rested across Hawke’s cheek and jaw.

Fenris looked at her again, his knuckles gone white on the hilt, desperate for anything—some sign—of what she’d rather he do.

Hawke looked back, raising her chin very slightly despite the blade resting against her skin, and quirked one eyebrow. That was precisely the way she looked at him when he was about to miss a cue, but what cue could she possibly be reminding him of now?

Her arms were held tight to her sides, too immobile to move much, but as he watched one wrist flexed, flicked, and a small wooden ball flew out of her sleeve, rolling across the floor.

“What—” one of the other fighters said, eyes following it, and an arrow sprouted soundlessly from the man’s neck.

As the arrow hit, the man holding Hawke grunted with pain and let her go. At once, she slammed her head back into his nose and ducked, neatly missing the blade he’d tried to bring back around.

“That’s no way to treat a lady,” a silken said behind the two of them, and the leader made a wet choking sound before collapsing to his knees. A woman in a pale dress stood in his place, spinning a bloody blade in one hand while she smiled down at the body.

“Sorry we’re late, Hawke!” a voice called from the catwalk.

As if the voice had reminded them what was happening, the fighters sprang into action again, rushing either Hawke or Fenris. Only—now they were not fighting alone. Arrows and bolts struck the slave-hunters as they rushed forward, and a fist of stone swept another off his feet and into the table where Honeybun’s cage was kept when she was onstage. Fire sparked out of the corner of his eye—Hawke’s doing—and lightning danced through the knot of people who’d tried to surround Fenris. A dark-haired man who closely resembled Hawke stepped into the breach, nodding once to Fenris before turning away and engaging a fighter with twin daggers clutched in her hands.

They made short work of the rest in the end; there were seven of her friends, as far as he could tell, and when they fought together even the largest of their opponents fell before them. As the final slave hunter slipped from Fenris’s blade, Hawke sighed and braced a hand on her knee, breathing hard.

“That was bracing,” she said between breaths. “Maker, what a mess. I’ll be weeks fixing all of this.”

“You could let the stage crew do their jobs for once,” a dwarf said, sliding down the ladder to the catwalk and swinging a crossbow onto his shoulder. “They do fix things like this, you know.”

“But if I don’t do it myself, how will I know they put things in the right place?” Hawke asked, waving a hand. Fenris was close enough to hear the breath she sucked in between her teeth just before she reached up to clear some of the blood from her face.

“Well, don’t touch it,” another man said, stepping over several fallen bodies to peer at her. “What a bloody mess. Hold still and let me fix that, won’t you?”

Hawke rolled her eyes, but straightened so the taller man could see.

“Mother hen,” she told him, and her eyes angled to Fenris at last.

“Alright?” she asked.

Fenris lowered his sword, searching for the words. He found some at last, though they were not the ones he’d been looking for.

“Why do this,” he said, gesturing to the box with swords in it, “if you can do real magic?”

Her brows raised, but she flinched before they would have reached their usual apex.

“Sorry,” the man leaning over her murmured. A soft light spilled from his hands, closing the edges of the cut across her cheekbone.

“They’re both real magic,” Hawke said after a moment, “The only difference is that one makes people clap and the other gets you tossed in the Gallows. And besides—if a templar ever reported me, what would their fellows think except that they were too foolish to realize a good sleight of hand when they saw it? Hiding in plain sight was the best way to go.”

“I still think it’s a horrible idea,” the healer muttered, still frowning down at her face.

“I think it’s genius,” the woman with the daggers announced, neatly sidling around two collapsed slave-hunters and crouching to check one’s pockets. “Hello—look at this.”

“Is that a golden tooth?” an elven woman asked, wandering over the bodies as if she didn’t notice them, “I don’t think those are supposed to be in one’s pockets, Isabela.”

“Ouch—Flames, Anders, if I’d known it was going to hurt, I’d have done it myself,” Hawke snapped. Fenris turned back to her, ignoring the others for the moment. The healer—Anders, she’d said—let his hands fall away at last and shrugged.

“You’d’ve scarred if you had,” he said. “Done now. You may still want to clean up; you’re a mess.”

Blood still streaked her neck and coat. Hawke grimaced again and tipped her head back.

“Alright up there, Sebastian?”

“Of course,” someone called back. Fenris squinted and spotted a bowman in the catwalk. “Didn’t you say Aveline was coming?”

“No, I said Aveline wasn’t coming. She was on patrol when I sent word—but, as it turns out, that’s probably for the best. Can’t imagine she’d love the amount of dead bodies involved in this one. Ah, well. Maybe Merrill can make them toddle off and lie down somewhere less conspicuous.”

“I can’t actually do that, Hawke,” the elf said, looking mildly distressed, “But I do know a carrying spell—if we stacked them all onto something, perhaps I could make them float or—”

“It was just a joke, dear,” Hawke said, crossing to the woman and resting a hand on her shoulder. “Technically speaking—legally speaking—this was self defense. Wasn’t it?”

As one, they turned to look at Fenris, who’d been standing wordlessly at the edge of the stage. He looked back, taking in the lot of them. What would it be like, he wondered, to have so many people who’d come in an instant when one needed help?

What would it be to answer a call like that? To choose to step forward and fight, even before one knew the circumstances of the battle?

What would it be like to…stay?

“Yes,” he said after a moment.

“You see?” Hawke said. “Now, I’ve promised Carver that drinks are on me—”

“Ah, you remembered after all,” the dark-haired man said, tucking a bloody cloth back into his pocket and sheathing his sword.

“—so why don’t you finish frisking their pockets and pop off to the Hanged Man? I’ll meet you there in a bit. I think we need to sort out a few things here first.”

Hawke stood in the bathroom of her dressing room, hands braced on the sink, eyes fixed on the mirror.

Effort and focus had not helped her remove an ounce of the anger from her face.

Really, she was angry often—people didn’t seem to notice if it was covered by a broad enough smile—but it had been a very long time since she’d been this angry.

Breathe, she reminded herself, and closed her eyes to focus on that instead. It was no use. Behind her eyelids, she still saw the bastards on her stage, threatening her friend, demanding he submit to—

“Hawke?” Fenris asked from the other side of the door.

Tears of the Bride, she’d come in here so he wouldn’t have to see this.

“I’ll be just a moment,” she said, and it was an effort to keep her voice even.

Silence. After a moment, she heard the sound of the cage door swinging open again.

Alright. Alright. She could do this.

Maria fumbled the trousers up and over her pantalets, fastened the blouse over her stays, and took another moment to look herself in the eyes and breathe. Fenris had spilled the tale while she’d cleaned up in here, for she’d rightly guessed that he’d be more comfortable explaining if he didn’t have to look at her. Now, she was glad she’d arranged things that way because—well. What good would it do him for her to be mad now? If there was one thing she knew, it was this: people who were hurt, people who’d been tormented and hunted halfway across the continent? Those people were not the ones who needed her to be upset on their behalf.

Not where they had to see it, at least.

Hawke hesitated only a moment longer, hand thrust into her pocket, but then she swung the door open and stepped out. Fenris had chosen to sit on the floor and was regarding Honeybun solemnly as the rabbit investigated the space beneath the dressing table. He rose gracefully when Maria stepped into the room, but didn’t immediately do anything more than that. Hawke paused in the doorway, surveying the scene, and Fenris looked back.

“She doesn’t like to stay in the cage for too long,” he said finally, spreading a hand in the rabbit’s direction, “She seems to prefer the room.”

“I agree,” Hawke said, setting a hand on the back of the nearest chair. “Before you came, I would leave her door open overnight and a sign on the door not to open it without checking first. The amount of times she’s been loose in the theater is…well. Notable.”

They stood for a long moment, looking at each other. Her fingers curled in her pocket. What could she say to him? He hadn’t wanted her help earlier, would have died rather than involve her. Now…Well.

Both of them were far too proud; she knew that for a fact. One of them would have to reach out first.

Maria stepped closer—close enough to touch if she’d intended to—and raised her chin to look him in the eyes.

“Usually,” she said, “the purpose of the stage assistant is to draw attention. The first trick to stage magic, you see, is misdirection. If the audience is looking at the assistant, they miss part of the trick. The assistant is meant to smile and look pretty and charm the ones watching into wanting to believe, just a little, in the idea of magic that cannot hurt or possess or pose a danger to them.”

Fenris regarded her steadily. He really had the most lovely eyes—not that she’d told him as much; she knew better than that. Looking at them made it easier to take another breath, to let some of the anger go.

“You are really, really bad at that. The worst I’ve ever seen, honestly. But—what you are good at is asking exactly the question that they’re thinking instead. Why would you want to pull a posy from your pocket? How would a rabbit even fit inside a hat?”

The smile came easy enough now. She didn’t have to work at it anymore.

“What could possibly be the purpose of levitating two feet in the air and staying there?”

“It is a perfectly reasonable question,” he said, but his brow had unfurrowed slightly.

Stay, she thought at him, smiling, stay with me. Don’t run.

No; too soon for that. There were other things to say first, in any case.

“They like you,” she said instead.

Now came the hard part. She’d practiced this on Merrill for days after she’d first met him just in case. Fenris did not like things in his periphery, and he seemed to dislike being touched on the shoulders or neck in general. So, rather than pulling something from behind his ear, she tapped his chest and produced the thing she’d been clutching in her pocket.

“Stay as long as you wish, Fenris,” she said, holding the brass key to the dressing room between two fingers. “The job is still yours.”

Fenris looked at the key, then at her. His mouth firmed, as if he, too, was holding words in. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“I am done with running,” he said, still not taking the key, “and—I had thought to ask you if you would allow me to remain here. After everything—well. I did not think you would offer. You understand that there could be more of them. This isn’t over.”

Hawke shrugged one shoulder.

“So we’ll fight them again.. You’re not the only one of my friends with a skeleton or two in your closet, Fenris. I could tell you things that would turn your hair—well. Too late for that, I suppose.”

Fenris snorted, but a smile crept up the corner of his mouth.

“In addition to the key, I am inviting you to drinks. The others will hound me for it if I don’t, but I think you might like at least some of them. They’re loud and cantankerous, they cheat at cards and half of them hate each other, but they’re family. If you’re going to stay, that’s something you might like to have.”

Honeybun hopped over her feet, and presumably over Fenris’s, too, for he looked down and away for a long, silent moment.

“Yes,” he said at last, straightening, “I will stay. I…would like to stay.”

“Wonderful,” Hawke said, beaming at him. The key gleamed in the air between them.

Readily, Fenris reached out and took it.

#maria hawke #fenris #fenris dragon age #da2 #fenhawke #my writing #da fanfic #this was the hardest to tag on ao3 haha. it isn't any of the usual categories i write and (unsurprisingly) there is no magician au category #also. it didn't fit in this but bethany is alive and in a coma jsyk #hence hawke being broke. all of her spare money goes to pay the healers etc.#shivunin scrivening

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ashwhowrites · 5 months

Note

Maybe billy hargrove x sunshine!cheerleader!reader ? where they‘re dating and the rest of the cheer squad (except chrissy <3) is jealous so they act like they are her friends and they keep asking her questions about billy to have a chance with him, but she doesn’t realize because she thinks they’re just interested in her relationship since they’re ‘re apparently her friends. But billy is super loyal (kinda unrealistic with his character but anyway lol) and every time they they try to hit on him he rejects them pretty harshly ? And maybe in the end she finally stands up for herself and billy is just like „that‘s my girl.“

I‘m so sorry if this was hard to understand it‘s my first time requesting and I was so nervous🥲, especially since I basically read all of your ST fics😭

Love love love a good boyfriend Billy fic 🫶🏻

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Cheerleader game

When the word got out that Billy Hargrove locked down on one girl, hell broke loose. The boys were excited that there wouldn't be any more competition, but the girls were having a hard time accepting it. Billy was the heartthrob of the school and every girl wanted their turn with him. But his eyes landed on Y/N, and they never left.

Y/N was sweet, bubbly, and all-around a ball of sunshine. Her being with Billy was a shock to everyone. Sure, she was a cheerleader and Billy only focused on the popular crowd. But the squad couldn't believe out of all of them, he picked her.

Their jealousy made them bitter and snakes. They swarmed Y/N countlessly with questions about Billy. They craved every detail they could get, details to make him interested in them. Poor Y/N didn't know their intentions, she thought they were just interested in her new relationship. She thought they were being friends.

~~~

"So Y/N, tell us! What does he like about you?" Bethany smiled, patting her manicured nails against the table.

"Um, I don't know. I feel like you'd have to ask him that." Y/N laughed awkwardly. To be honest, she wondered why he liked her too. But she didn't think too long about it. He liked her and asked her out. That's what mattered.

"Wrap your brain around it! You beat out the whole school, there must be something special about you." Bethany said, her eyes glared for a tiny second then a bright smile took over her face.

Y/N tried to rank her brain for compliments Billy gave. She smiled as a few came to mind.

"Oh, I know! He loves my pink lip gloss. He said he loves how shiny and irresistible it makes my lips!"

~~~

Billy was walking towards his car when he saw a girl leaning on it. He eyed her quickly but didn't recognize much about her.

"Can I help you?" Billy asked, and not politely. His voice was thick and sharp. His eyes raised in a bothered way and his body language read annoyed.

Bethany giggled and popped her gum. The gum brought attention to her shiny pink lips. Billy noticed the familiarity of the gloss but didn't say anything about it.

"See something you like? The gloss maybe?" She teased, she slowly applied the lipgloss over her already-coated lips. Billy saw the bottle and confirmed it was the same kind Y/N wore.

"Not on you," Billy said, chuckling at the shocked look on Bethany's face. He got in the car and started the engine. The loud rumble made Bethany move out of the car with a growl.

~~~

"What do you guys enjoy doing on dates? Does he like to go to the movies or something?" Sarah asked, throwing her bright blonde hair over her shoulder.

"We go to the movies a lot! He's really into action movies. He wants to go see that new Batman movie."

~~~

Billy was finishing practice, his sweat dripping from his curls down his chest. The small shorts he wore caught every cheerleader's attention. Practicing in the same gym was the best thing the school came up with.

While Y/N and Chrissy were having a small talk on the couch, Sarah took the opportunity to race off to talk to Billy. After her talk with Y/N yesterday, she raced to the movie theater to buy two tickets for the new Batman film for opening night.

She snatched the tickets and confidently walked up to Billy. His back to her as he switched out his shirts. Sarah felt drool on her chin as she watched his tan back move. She tapped on his shoulder, a smile on her face as he turned.

"Hi, Billy! You looked great during practice today." She batted her eyelashes and trailed her hand up his arm. She tried not to pout when he pushed her hand off and made a grunt sound in response.

"Anyway!" She brushed it off, "I got two tickets for that new Batman movie, would you maybe want to go?"

"Sweet! Thanks!" He smiled. There was a glint in his eye that made her stomach flip. "Can I see them?" He asked, his hand reaching out. She tried to catch her breath as his fingertips touched her skin. Her body was on fire from the simple touch.

"Opening night! That kicks ass. Thanks." He said he slipped the tickets into his pocket. "See ya."

Sarah was confused as she watched him walk off. She turned around and growled when she saw him walk up to Y/N. The tickets were in his hands as he showed them to Y/N, who excitedly nodded. They walked out hand in hand with Sarah's tickets.

~~~

Y/N screamed as Billy scored the winning shot. The gymnasium was electric as the boys celebrated their win. Y/N waited for all the boys to finish congratulating Billy, waiting for her turn to race in his arms and kiss his face.

By the time the boys finished, the cheer squad raced to Billy next. Y/N stood shocked as all these girls swarmed her boyfriend. Their hands on his skin, and lips on his cheek. That's supposed to be her!

"Get your man, girl." Chrissy encouraged, her arms crossed as she looked in shame at her team.

Y/N huffed and marched over to her boyfriend. She felt a sense of pride that he didn't look pleased either. He looked annoyed with all these girls.

Once his blue eyes caught hers, a smile lit up his whole face. Y/N wanted to laugh at the way he pushed through the girls, his feet walking towards her.

"There's my girl." He cheered, his arms open as she raced into them. She ignored everyone around them as Billy spun her in the air. Her praise was the only one he cared about hearing it from.

"Amazing, baby." Her words pressed against his lips as she kissed him. And she kissed him hard. Her hands were in his hair as he set her back on the floor. Her back arched as he dipped her.

When they separated from their hot kiss, Y/N offered him a smile before she looked to her team. Her face was hard as the smile was swiped off her face. A glare and snarl sent their way as she stepped closer to them.

"I'm done with all you girls flirting and touching him. He's taken and he's not interested. If you continue to disrespect my relationship, your ass is off the team." The girls quickly ran off, A sense of fear filled the atmosphere as they refused to look at her or Billy.

Y/N stood proudly as she watched them scatter.

"Atta girl." Billy praised, his arms wrapping around her from behind. His face snuggled in her neck as she giggled at the feeling.

"Gotta sink my claws in you a tad bit more, I think," Y/N said, quietly moaning as Billy nipped at her neck.

"Gladly let you."

#billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x cheerleader! reader #ashwhowrites

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piratefishmama · 1 year

Text

Fake it 'till you make it | Prompt

When Steve Harrington came out to his parents, he expected a few things to happen. Jumping back a little, he hadn’t even meant to come out. His parents meant well, they did. He couldn’t deny that they meant well.

They knew he was lonely when they were gone, they knew he was the type of person who kind of… needed someone around. He wasn’t a lone wolf, he wasn’t someone who could just go it alone, while they were away for months, and while Robin was lovely, Robin was also a lesbian.

So Robin was out of the question.

So it fell to the women they knew. Through their connections. And unfortunately those women tended to be, for lack of a better phrase, ‘Daddies money is how I intend to live for the rest of my life’, and completely comfortable in switching out who Daddy was.

Steve… didn’t have a daddy kink, thanks.

Okay maybe he did a little but not in the call him daddy kind of way. More the other way around.

After the fifth attempt to throw some business partners daughter at him, a woman who’d actually kind of impressively deep throated a hot dog at the office barbeque while looking directly at him before he’d even gotten her name. Impressive, kind of terrifying.

An image of his life consisting of an unhappy marriage where his wife used sex as some kind of transaction rather than the big family full of love that he wanted flashed before his eyes.

He'd had enough. So when the sixth one came up, Vivian, he hadn’t even been able to wait for them to explain who she was, which business associate she was related too, it just. Came out.

Or rather he came out. Spectacularly.

“I’M GAY!” Okay less spectacular initially, more manic desperation. He expected a few things to happen after he realised what he’d blurted out.

He expected anger, he expected disappointment, he half expected disownment, not fully expected, his mother would probably be on his side. He expected violence, judgement, demands of him to tell them it wasn’t true, or demands that he hide it, keep pretending for appearances sake. He’d heard the coming out horror stories.

He did not expect—

“Oh oh! What about Jonathan!! From Tennis club, honey you remember Jonathan right? Peter’s son?” His mother turning to look at his father, who’d turned a little pale. That was it, his father would be the one to blow up, his mother was in his corner that was sort of expected but his fa—

“Lynda he is not dating someone with the same name as me, that—no. No, I don’t think I’d recover if those thin walls at the chalet struck again.” Goddammit. “What about Timothy, Dorothy’s nephew? Didn’t she say she’d caught him with some punk boy on that family holiday to London?”

“Yes but she was trying to get points around the water cooler for being hip and homophobic, did you not hear what she called the poor boy? I’m not associating with Dorothy, good heavens.”

“I hadn’t heard, why have I not heard? Lynda we’re trying to create an inclusive work environment, I can’t have homophobic people working in HR!” And John was up, newspaper down, and off to his study to deal with Dorothy muttering about how he was sure the monthly office newsletter, which included the updated company values, would have weeded the bigots out by now.

“…Did my coming out just get someone fired?” Steve finally broke his shocked silence, his mothers attention turning back to him, her eyes wide, mouth puckered in a little, silent, oh.

“……Maybe.” His shoulders slumped, expression dropping to deadpan, she moved quick to reassure him “Don’t worry about it, Steven, she really wasn’t well liked.” It didn’t make him feel better… okay maybe it did, one less homophobe in the workplace. “Oooh, what about—”

It didn’t stop the matchmaking. The potential suitor pool just got bigger. Especially when he quietly, defeatedly corrected himself, revealing it was bisexual, not just gay, accepting his fate.

So it was no longer Vivian, Jessica, Bethany, Barbara, Carol, etc.

It was Vivian, Thomas, Jessica, Peter, Bethany, Robert blah blah blah

“Okay but you know some people would kill for that kind of support right?” Robin spoke the truth while rewinding the latest batch of returns. And maybe he was whining, maybe he was being overdramatic, his parents were supportive and were trying to make sure he’d be happy while they were gone on their long business trips.

Honestly they could have probably just let him get a dog. It’d have been easier. Less expensive than any of the people they were suggesting.

“I know… it’s just… they could at least try and find out what my type is. Instead it’s like they’re trying to throw a whole Indy gay bar at me in hopes that one person just kinda sticks. And now I’ve got a whole week with them coming up in some remote chalet, what if they bring someone, Robs? What if they bring someone and try an set us up an—”

“Can your parents just… adopt me?” She wasn’t listening “I’d kill to have the dating thing simplified for me, I can’t even talk to girls, you’ve got your mother doing all the work for you. I’d appreciate them, tell them I’d appreciate them.”

The door chimed, neither of them looked up, too engrossed in what they were doing. If a customer needed their help, they’d make it known.

They’d just adjust language used to not out themselves to strangers.

“You tell them! Pretty sure they’d find you someone.” Apparently his parents would be thrilled to help. He wanted to be happy about that, he really did, it was just exhausting having to fend off people who were interested in him but only for the last name, the business connection, the money. He wanted someone who wanted him for him, and none of those ‘potential suitors’ fit that bill. “Robbie I’m serious here, what if— what if they try when I can’t escape. I can’t spend a whole week in the woods with some stranger they’ve thrown at me, I think I might actually perish.”

“Then take a date.” Both young adults turned to look at the culprit behind the door chime.

“Henderson!” Steve’s favourite of the brat pack. Having met him while ferrying the kids home when Jonathan couldn’t pick Will up from Mike’s on a night when Steve had been hanging out with his at the time girlfriend Nancy. The kid was hilarious, a little bit of a know it all, but when you actually know it all, you’ve kind of earned the right to be obnoxious about it. “What did you hear?”

“That someone’s setting you up with people? Which is that a bad thing?” He directed the second question to Robin who shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Not in my book lil man, not in my book.”

“Okay It’s not the attempt that’s the problem, it’s the quantity of attempts, and the quality of people they’re throwing at me! Quantity and quality are the issues here, people, it’s not that they’re doing it,”

“It’s that they’re doing it badly.” Dustin finished, Steve pointing at him with clicked finger guns.

“Exactly… and I don’t want my parents at my future wedding claiming they were responsible for getting us together cause that’d be weird! And pathetic. I want a fun first date story, a meet cute, or a ridiculous ‘yeah we were trapped in an elevator for like, three hours and bonded’ kind of story, I want an ‘I met them on a train’ or ‘they hit on me at the bar, and it just worked’ not an ‘my parents set us up in a remote cabin in the woods’, do you get me?”

“I can see your dilemma, but remote cabins in the woods can be really roman—"

“Nobody wants to hear about you and Suzie again! We get it, she’s your soulmate and future nerd wife you lucky little shithead.” Long distance and tricky as it may be, they were kind of perfect for each other. “Now what were you saying about taking a date?”

“Exactly that, take a date with you. Tell them you’re bringing someone and just… bring someone.” Dustin let his eyes flick to robin purposefully, quirking his head a little to subtly nod at her “you could take Robin” as if to say now’s your chance, dickhead, take it.

“Somehow I doubt Robin would be able to convince them that we were dating.”

“Cause we’re not.”

“And will not be.”

“At all.”

“Eh—"

“—ver”

“You guys make no sense.”

“We make perfect sense, my strange little child friend. You just don’t have all the information to make it make sense.” Robin wiggled her fingers at him as if it was some kind of mystery, it was to Dustin but that wasn’t important. “He does have a point though, you could take a date, there’s plenty of people in Hawkins who’d kill for a rich person get away, just gotta let them know that it’s a pretend date situation. Or… actually find a date. If you can.”

The "you suck" board flashed into his mind momentarily. He couldn’t. Not within the time frame he had. He was so far off his game his parents were matchmaking for him.

Dustin’s voice broke through his thoughts once more, offering salvation. “I know someone you could hire for that…” hallelujah, Dustin Henderson everybody.

Part 2

#PirateWrites #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet

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mysunshinetemptress · 6 months

Text

I’m sorry I love her

Leah Williamson x reader

Based of this request :) request

Warnings:Angst,fluff maybe kind of you have to squint Bethany

Love is probably both one of the most complicated emotions as well as the most simplest emotions. One that had brought one of the best humans in the world into your life but had also forced another out.

Jordan Nobbs had been your best friend from the minute you signed for Arsenal, being a few years younger than the forward you followed her like a lost puppy for the first few weeks at the club, the girls will say you still do but it was just that you where a shy person.

Jordan adored you from the moment you walked through the doors of London colony where ever she was you weren’t to far behind her and vice versa so it was only fitting that she introduce you to her new girlfriend Leah Williamson.

Of course you knew Leah from playing with her for Arsenal but had always been to shy to get to know her but that soon changed and over the 8 years they dated you tagged along as a third wheel, spent numerous nights sleeping on the couch when you all stayed over at each other’s apartment you stating couple get the bed. You watched Jordan fall in love, and soon after watched her heart break.

You had been lying in bed watching a rerun of the best goals in the premier league when your phone lit up with a text from Jordan, thinking it was her asking for you to hangout tomorrow you ignored it till your phone began ringing turning you answered “hey I…” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as Jordan cried down the phone “Jords.” You heard her sob before she began “she left me Y/n I…I…she doesn’t love me anymore.”

You didn’t know how to act around Leah after that, she had broken your best friends heart but she had also become one of your best friends over the time of their relationship, until Leah cornered you at training “Y/n.” You looked at her trying to look annoyed, you should be annoyed she broke Jordan’s heart but it’s Leah and you couldn’t hold the expression for very long. “What Leah.” Leah sighed “I….I.” You shook your head at the loss of Leahs words “ you broke her heart Leah, why she loves you.” Leah shook her head “loved, she loved me, Jordan doesn’t love me anymore and I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t love me.” You shook your head “bullshit Leah that girl sobbed into my chest for hours all because you broke her heart.” Leah felt her self begin to tear up “y/n please believe me Jordan hasn’t loved me for a long time she was just comfortable with me and our relationship, it broke my heart but I’d rather be then one to do it then her a few months.” Leah sucked in a breath “I’m sorry but please Y/n I don’t want to lose you too I can’t lose you.” You pulled Leah into you squeezing her tight “ok ok I believe you, you aren’t going to lose me not now not ever ok.” Leah nodded into your neck “I’m sorry.”

Jordan found it difficult to start her best friend still being so close to her now ex but you had told her after an argument that she couldn’t stop you from being friends with anyone especially when you all played for the same team and saw each other so regularly.

The most awkward time’s always seemed to be team bonding nights both girls asking for you to come get ready in theirs to which you would always reply “sorry chica getting ready at mine.”

Tonight was no different except team bonding was heading to a club to celebrate the English girls and Rafas success over the summer. Stepping into the club you took a second to let your eyes adjust before turning to finding Katie dancing on a chair laughing you walked over “McCabe get down before you fall and are out for the season.” Katie smiled jumping on you “ah Y/n how are ya.” You smiled at her before she led you over to sit down. Lost in a conversation with Beth who was giving out about you not wearing your Euros medal, stating “I’m scared I’d lose it Beth.” When in all honesty it was because you felt like you where gloating to your best friend that you had been there and she hadn’t. When a glass was put down in front of you, looking up you caught Leah’s eye “Jamie and Ginger for the pretty lady.” You smiled thanking her as she sat down across from you, both you and Beth including her in the conversation until another glass was placed down in front of you this time a pint “here you go love.” You looked at Jordan puzzled “Jords I…” Jordan held up her hand “nah it’s all good Y/n you bought last time let me do tonight’s.” Sitting down beside you talking to Caitlin and Lia.

This happens consistently over the course of the night both girls buying you drinks and to say you where sloshed was an understatement. You had been dragged on to the dance floor by Lia not to long ago and both of your best friends had been keeping an eye on you until Jordan’s eye had caught a brunette at the bar leaving just Leah who had decided she was going to dance to. “You look gorgeous tonight Y/n.” You smiled at the taller girl “you clean up pretty nice yourself darling.” Leah couldn’t help but wrap her arms around your waist “Beth says you don’t want to wear your medal to scared to lose it yet your the only one I trust to mind mine.” Leah stated taking it off her neck putting over your head “god you are beautiful.” You always found it easy to get lost in Leah’s eyes but this time it was like you would never find your way back “think it’s time to head home gorgeous want to come stay at mine.” You simply nodded before Leah intertwined you hands pulling you through the crowd to the outside and waving down a taxi. Leah laughed as you leaned into wrapping your arms under her blazer jacket covering your own in the process before looking up at her only to find her already looking at you, Leah leaned down kissing you softly pulling away slightly before you leaned up catching her lips more passionately this time. As soon as the taxi arrived Leah shoved you in the back seat clambering in after you before connecting your lips together again. This happened the entire way back to Leah’s before she threw cash at the poor driver and pulled you up the steps to her apartment, throwing open the door Leah wasted no time before picking you up and taking you to her room.

The next morning you stretched before stopping abruptly looking down you saw a hand resting just under your naked right boob before following it to a sleeping Leah also naked, you sucked in a breath as memories from last night came rushing back just as Leah stirred turning to face you smiling slightly “you stayed.” To in shock to form words you nodded “I’ll make breakfast. What do you want.” You swallowed before telling your self to cope on “French toast, I’ll come with you tho Le I still don’t trust you to not poison me.” Leah laughed turning over and sitting up throwing shorts and an old jersey on before getting up to her wardrobe and giving you the same.

You both stood in the kitchen tension thick as you waited on your breakfast “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable Y/n, I don’t regret my actions last night but if..”you cut Leah off “I don’t either, my actions I mean, I have had feelings for you longer then I would like to admit.” Leah let out a breath chuckle “I could say the same.” You smiled brightly before the feeling of guilt set in “I really do like you Le but Jordan….” Leah stood up coming over to you holding your head in her hands “hey listen to me this isn’t selfish ok I know that’s what your thinking but you deserve to be happy if it’s with me that’s a bonus but don’t pass on something that could turn out really great for the sake of others ok.” You looked up at her your eyes sparkling as adoration took over “you think we could be something great.” Leah smiled pulling you closer “yeah.” You closed the gap kissing her softly “ok then let’s me be great.”

You both state, the rest of that day was your first date cuddled up on Leah’s couch watching movies laughing about anything and everything. Your relationship with Leah only grew, she asked you to be her girlfriend three weeks later.Two weeks after that she invited you to Milton Keynes to meet her family this time as her girlfriend, a few days later you did the same travelling up to Manchester to your family, both sides overjoyed with the news.

The next step was to tell your friends, the thought of having to tell Jordan made you sick, you had countless sleepless nights thinking about the consequences of telling your best friend you where dating her ex as images of her sobbing flashed through your mind. Leah didn’t know what to do as she tried desperately for you to talk to her only for you to pull further away until eventually she called your mum.

“Y/n.” You looked up from the couch at Leah who was now stood beside you mum “hello peanut.” You stood up crashing into your mother’s arms letting out a breath you didn’t know you where holding on too as she squeezed you tight “oh darling what’s on your mind.” You pulled back looking at Leah who nodded before feeling your bottom lip start to tremble “I can’t tell her, I don’t she’s going to hate me mum please I don’t know what to do I can’t sleep without seeing her crying.” Your mum pulled you over to the couch “oh Y/n it’s ok it’s all going to be ok I promise, Jordan loves you, your her best friend and a real best friend is happy for you no matter what, hey look at my darling.” You sniffed looking at her “are you happy, right now in this relationship with Leah.” You nodded “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” Your mum smiled brushing the hair out of your face “then Jordan will realise how happy Leah makes you and be just as happy for you ok.” You nodded looking at Leah who stood in the corner of the room before you put your hand out for her to take which she did coming to sit behind you and pull you closer “you deserve to be happy and if it’s with Leah then wonderful ok.” You thanked your mum before getting up to make her a cup of tea leaving the pair to talk. You slept the full night through that night wrapped in Leah’s tight hold.

You stood frozen outside of Lia and Caitlin’s house Leah holding your waist from behind as she tried to get you to relax “we don’t have to stay ok we just go in stay an hour tell everyone and leave shortly after ok enough time for you to rewatch the best of David Beckham.” You shuffled forward before pressing the doorbell sucking in a breath as the door swung open and your best friend jumped on you “friend oh friend.” Leah coughed behind you nodding at Jordan before stepping around you both to hug Lia “we haven’t hung out in ages Y/n what the fuck man.” You smiled sheepishly “sorry Jordy I’ve been so busy but I’m free for the next two weeks whenever you want.” Jordan grabbed your hand leading you into the house greeting the rest of the team you sat with Jordan chatting with Viv and Jen.

You where stood in the kitchen getting another drink when you felt Leah’s hands wrap around you from behind “you ok.” You nodded leaning back before she turned you your head finding it’s spot in the crook of her neck pressing to her neck, Leah sighed “keep that up and we are leaving in five.” You smiled leaning to kiss her, only to jump apart at the sound of glass breaking. Turning startled “what the fuck.” You looked at Jordan in horror “Jordan.” You moved towards the older girl “no what the fuck.” You stopped as Jordan took a step back “you have five second to tell me I’m imagining this or I swear..” you looked past her as the rest of the Arsenal girls gathered behind Jordan “what’s going on.” Lia looked at the three of you confused “I walked in on Y/n trying to kiss Leah.” Your eyes flicked around at the faces of your teammates “I…we…we where going to tell you I’m sorry.” Jordan shook her head “how long.” You looked at the ground as Jordan grew more angry “HOW LONG.” Leah stepped in “hey don’t you dare talk to her like that Jordan I swear to god.” Jordan shook her head “Fuck off I’m not talking to you so Y/n how long have you been screwing my ex for.” Still staring at the ground you felt tears well in your eyes “just over two months.” Jordan laughed in disbelief “TWO FUCKING MONTHS.” Jen put her hand on Jordan’s shoulders but she just shook her off as she stepped towards you “after everything you saw her put me through, after everything we have been through.” You looked up taking a step back in shock at how close Jordan was “I’m sorry.” Jordan shook her head “yeah sorry you got caught.” You shook your head “no Jordan because you might not believe me but we where going to tell you tonight, I…I…I have made my self sick this past few months had countless sleepless nights scared to tell you, scared that you would react like this, but they are right I deserve to be happy as well can’t you see I’m happy can’t you be happy for me as my best friend.” Jordan looked at you in shock “I’m not friends with backstabbers, who whore themselves out to get a girl their best friend cried to them about for hours.” Leah stood in front of you once more “I’d back the fuck up if I where you Jordan or I swear to god this will end badly, all she wants is for you to share her happiness instead your being a prick.” Jordan just kept staring at you standing just past her shoulder “your not even sorry are you.” You looked at her once more “I am I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I love her, and that it is her but that’s not going to change, the same way my love for you won’t change.” Jordan shook her head, turning to walk out of the house as you chased after her “Jordan.” Jordan stopped in the driveway turning “I hope you are happy and that you do actually love her and that she loves you back, she can deal with all the shit I’ve had to put up with being your friend.” Jordan walked off after that as you dropped to the floor in tears Leah pulling you into her “I’m so so sorry Y/n, it’s ok I know it doesn’t feel like it now but it’s going to be ok.” You couldn’t respond to busy sobbing into her chest as your friends watched on.

#awfc #leah williamson #woso #woso fanfics #woso one shot #leah williamson x y/n #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #jordan nobbs #arsenal wfc #arsenal

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annachibisims · 2 years

Photo

Aww she’s so cute!

#sims 2 #ts2 #sims 2 gameplay #bethany broke #brandi broke #pleasantview #pleasantly strange

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knightsickness · 1 month

Note

if you were in charge of the hypothetical hbo blackfyre rebellions show, what directorial choices would you make to improve upon the source material?

this is not improving upon the source material so much as tailoring it to my tastes

start w baelor’s court i feel strongly about this. first episode a sort of bizarre womanless church of a court with a king wandering around barefoot in rags and the girls in the maidenvault. in my blackfyre rebellion show we’re doing themes about women and themes about the faith and also prince aegon unworthy breaks daena out and daemon blackfyre is conceived. baelor dies shortly after this maybe bc of shock and horror maybe bc viz ii poisons him i kind of like the latter bc ->

aegon poisons his own dad to get the throne quicker. i would want at least a season of aegon iv reign i want them to do the mistresses and the increasing number of bastards at court properly. aegon psychologically tormenting naerys and aemon and ignoring weakling daeron in favour of his handsome chad bastard son daemon

not the first to say this but i want aemon to also be creepy to naerys but to desperately punch this down bc shes so Good she would be horrified by his affections. daeron isn’t his

aemon and naerys not idealised beautiful arthurian knight and lady i want them to be PALE and SICKLY. drawn and stricken-looking with that pink eye makeup thing they do to the targtowers. aegon comparatively conventionally handsome deteriorates over the season w gout and five million stds

daemy blackfyre charismatic jock kid intentionally similar to young aegon who broke daena out. daeron fucking hatess him once he takes the throne hes taking out his feelings towards his own shitty dad on his shitty dad’s bastard he liked more than him. telling daemon he can’t have two wives bc its wrong and this is the real world and barely able to keep a smile off his face about it when daemon leaves in a huff

focus on barba missy and bethany + the bracken blackwood feud in general. i want barba to be weirdly close w aegor as her perfect royal son her golden ticket connection to the throne

bittersteel focus <- non negotiable for me hbo would neverr do this. in the sense that hes an unmarketably misogynistic homophobic old-gods-hater deeply unpleasant catholic brute in a love triangle where theyre just dating and he has a problem with it. horse girl. keeps throwing tantrums. loser. only guy there without magic powers or blonde hair. manipulating his half brother w the kingsword into usurpation

those cruel intentions promo posters where theyre all draped over each other but its their stupid triangle. shiera makes him and bloodraven kiss for her amusement

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #bittersteel #bloodraven #aegor rivers #shiera seastar #brynden rivers #barba bracken #melissa blackwood #aegon the unworthy #aemon dragonknight #naerys targaryen #daemon blackfyre #daeron ii targaryen #baelor the blessed #viserys ii targaryen #aegon iv targaryen

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eddiernunson · 5 months

Text

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

| Master List | Prev Part | Next Part

Word Count: 16.9k

Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)

I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.

I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.

Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.

You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”

“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”

“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”

“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.

“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.

“You found a dress?”

You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”

The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted. The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”

“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.

He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.

“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.

Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”

Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.

“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”

A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”

He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”

A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”

He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”

You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”

“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”

Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”

You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”

He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”

With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.

On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.

A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.

As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.

All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)

Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”

“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.

“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.

“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.

“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”

Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”

Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.

You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.

The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.

“Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.

Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.

His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”

He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”

A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.

It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.

“Hey, Eddie—”

You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.

“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”

He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”

“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.

He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”

You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”

The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.

You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.

He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.

You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”

Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?

“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.

Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”

Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”

Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”

“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.

“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.

His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”

“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.

“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.

“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.

“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”

“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”

Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”

Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.

He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.

But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.

Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.

The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.

What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?

As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.

When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.

“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”

You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”

His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”

You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”

“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis.

For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.

“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”

“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”

Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.

Is he nervous?

He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.

The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.

“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.

You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.

Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.

Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”

Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.

It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.

Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”

You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.

“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.

“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.

To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.

Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.

Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.

It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.

Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.

Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.

“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.

“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.

The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.

Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”

“Still not telling.”

The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.

Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.

“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.

“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”

“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”

They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.

“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.

“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”

“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”

Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.

Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.

“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.

“You ever plan to?”

“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.

“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”

Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.

The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.

Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.

Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”

You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.

“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”

Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.

Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.

His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.

You huff, head banging against the head rest.

“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”

Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”

Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.

“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”

You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.

When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.

The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.

Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.

You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.

“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”

Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.

Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.

This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.

Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.

Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.

You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.

Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.

Your mom was on the newspaper?

The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.

Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.

Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.

The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.

His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.

You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.

The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”

Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”

The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.

His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”

When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.

“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”

As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”

“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”

“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”

Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.

“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.

Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”

His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”

“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”

“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”

Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”

The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.

“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.

Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.

You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.

“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.

Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”

“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.

“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.

“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”

“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.

“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”

You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.

“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.

You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”

To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.

The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.

Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”

Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.

Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.

Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.

“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.

Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.

Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”

Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”

He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”

Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”

Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”

The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.

Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”

“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.

“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.

“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.

Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”

You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”

Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.

How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.

You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”

“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.

You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”

“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”

“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.

Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.

You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”

You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”

“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”

You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”

She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.

“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.

“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”

You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”

“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”

“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”

You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.

“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”

Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.

“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”

“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.

They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.

A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.

You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.

To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.

“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.

You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”

“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.

Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”

“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”

Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”

“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”

You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”

“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”

“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”

The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.

You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”

Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”

You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.

You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.

You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.

“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.

“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”

You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”

Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.

At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.

“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”

You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”

“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”

You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”

You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”

If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”

“You didn’t think to take her card away?”

Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”

Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”

“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.

“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”

“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”

“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”

He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.

He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”

Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”

“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.

He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”

You nod, mewling in agreement.

“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.

It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.

He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.

He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”

You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”

Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”

“We’re getting married today.”

You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.

Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.

He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”

The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.

Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.

Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.

She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”

Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”

You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.

Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.

“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.

No. Seriously. You’ve tried.

Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”

You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”

“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.

“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.

Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”

Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”

“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”

“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”

“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.

As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.

All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.

As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”

“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)

Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.

As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”

“I’m so nervous.”

He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”

A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”

“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”

The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.

Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”

That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”

“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”

“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.

Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.

Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?

Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”

But I can’t help…falling in love with you.

There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.

First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.

The two of you in the world, really.

There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.

If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.

Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”

You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”

You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.

Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.

His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.

You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”

“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.

Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.

The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.

His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel.

A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”

“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers. “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”

The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.

“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”

God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.

“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.

“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.

“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.

With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.

“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.

“Just marry the girl, already.”

“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.

Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.

“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.

Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.

The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.

When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”

He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”

You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.

There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.

As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.

Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.

You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.

The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.

You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.

Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.

You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.

“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.

“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.

“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.

You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.

“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”

“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”

Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”

The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.

Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”

“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”

“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”

You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”

“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”

You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”

Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”

“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”

Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words. “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”

Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Eddie, cock, so big!”

He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”

“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”

“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”

“Want your babies.” You gasp.

“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”

Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”

“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”

You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”

“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”

You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”

He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”

You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.

Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.

“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.

You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.

Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”

Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”

You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.

Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.

“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.

The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”

“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.

The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”

“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”

“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”

“Knew you would.”

“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.

The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”

“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.

“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.

His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”

“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”

Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”

“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.

Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”

“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.

“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”

Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.

By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.

By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”

His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.

“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.

You tell him, gasping for air.

“I see, still not enough yet.”

It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”

Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.

“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”

Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.

“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.

You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.

He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.

The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.

After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”

You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”

He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”

“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.

“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.

“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”

After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.

The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.

Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.

You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.

The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.

Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.

You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.

It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.

If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.

When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.

It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.

Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”

Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”

“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”

“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”

Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.

“And trust me when I say they are loud.”

“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.

The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.

Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.

You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”

“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”

You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.

One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.

As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”

He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”

One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.” He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”

You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”

“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”

You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”

“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.

The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.

Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”

At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”

He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”

It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.

Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.

So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”

All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.

The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”

“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.

“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”

“What’s all this for?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”

“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”

Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.

“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.

“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.

He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.

The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.

“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.

“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.

“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.

“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.

Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.

He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.

As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.

Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.

There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.

By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.

Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”

Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.

As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.

Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?

That’s definitely two lines.

“Shit.”

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake @lemonmintseltzer @joannamuns9n

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

Request: Steve has a few younger siblings. He is very protective over them (2 brothers & 1 baby sister) his family is very close. But the party meeting his siblings in the hospital post spring break from hell, Steve's little sister screams tearfully until she is put beside her older brother who is in hospital due to severe injuries. His younger brothers (8yrs old & 5 yrs old) demand for their big brother to be left alone by these strangers. The party demanded to know why he kept his siblings from them???? Also Steve just being loved on by his parents & his siblings and of the party.

DARLING IDK HOW YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF BUT THANK GOD YA DO!!! Steve having siblings and good parents and STILL choosing to be the best damn babysitter is kind of giving me LIFE. I am forever here for giving Steve all the love he deserves. A little backstory for this in my brain: Steve's parents got married right out of high school at their own parents' insistence, and they loved each other, but wanted to go to college first. Anne got pregnant during their honeymoon and had to put college on hold. The reason there's such a big age gap between Steve and his siblings is because she finished college, started working as a lawyer, and then went into business with Richard. Once they were comfortable in that for a couple years, they decided to have more kids. We love responsible decisions!!! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve spent 12 hours unconscious, which would be more alarming if he hadn’t had worse before. At least this time he was in a hospital for it.

Or maybe that was worse.

His mom was by his side the moment he woke up, along with a pacing Dustin and half-asleep Robin.

“Mom? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, honey!” Anne Harrington was a strong woman, a lawyer who didn’t take shit from anyone, only cried when Steve won his basketball championship and graduated high school. But here she was, sobbing against his hand tightly grasped in her own. “He’s with your brothers and sister. I didn’t want them to see you like this, honey. You almost died!”

Maybe that was true. He certainly felt like he almost died.

He felt Robin and Dustin staring at them, realized what his mom had said.

“Brothers?” Dustin asked, barely more than a whisper, from the foot of the hospital bed.

“Sister?” Robin asked, a yawn breaking out before she even finished asking.

There was a commotion outside the door, he could hear his father’s voice trying to stay calm as he spoke, but knew he was frustrated.

Then he heard a loud cry and his heart broke.

“Was that Bethany?” Steve croaked, his eyes watering at the wails his three year old sister was letting out.

Anne looked at the mostly closed door, nodding as she turned back to Steve in the bed.

“They’ve been begging to see you since this morning. They wouldn’t stop begging to come, so your dad compromised and said they could sit in the waiting room until you woke up, but they’ve been sitting there for two hours. You know how they get.”

He did. He knew that any compromise they’d agreed to was going to work to their benefit in the end because they were all much too clever for their ages.

Suddenly, the door shot open and his eight year old brother, James, stood there with wide eyes. His five year old brother, Ryan, stood behind him, bouncing on his feet so he could try to see.

His father appeared behind them, holding Bethany in his arms, and looking like he wished he could be anywhere else.

But that look disappeared when he saw that Steve was awake.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, son,” he said, a choked noise making its way from his throat like he would have sobbed if the kids weren’t there.

He could feel the confusion coming from Robin and Dustin, but now wasn’t the time to explain any of it.

“Hey kiddos. You guys okay?” Steve rasped out, giving a small smile to all his siblings.

James and Ryan ran to his bed, climbing onto it carefully when Anne snapped her fingers at them and told them to go slow so they didn’t hurt their brother.

“Down, daddy! Wanna see Steve!” Bethany was kicking her legs and trying to push away from Richard, who sighed and let her down.

She ran to the bed, ignored the warning to go slow, and piled into Steve’s lap.

It hurt, but she was so small, and Steve could deal with some discomfort if it meant she could see he was okay.

“Steve, you have boo-boos!”

He patted her always messy hair, and gave her the best smile he could muster.

“Just a few. I’m gonna get all better soon, though. The doctors just had to put some bandaids on them.”

“Are they Barbie bandaids?”

“Of course they aren’t, Bethany. They’re big and have to be wrapped,” James said.

Steve gripped James’ hand in his.

James was going through a phase of wanting to seem older than he was, which was normal, but he took a lot of it out on Bethany. Bethany could certainly hold her own, and often did, but they were all emotional and under a lot of stress at this moment, so Steve stepped in.

“Buddy, let’s just take it easy today, okay? It’s okay to be scared, but so is Bethany and she’s little, so we have to be patient. Like we talked about, remember?”

“What is happening right now?” Dustin asked, still standing awkwardly at the end of his bed.

“Um. Dustin, Robin, this is Bethany, James is to my left, and Ryan is to my right. These are my brothers and sister.”

“You have siblings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve could hear the disbelief in Dustin’s tone.

“I do.”

“You never mentioned them?” Robin asked as she looked at where Richard and Anne were now whispering in the corner of the room.

“It just never really came up?”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Who are these people?” Ryan asked as he turned his face into Steve’s arm, always more shy than his other siblings.

“That’s my best friend, Robin, and Dustin. I used to babysit him and now he’s like another brother.”

“But we’re your brothers,” James said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course. But there’s plenty of room to have Dustin around, too. He’s awesome. He can teach you D&D!”

Bethany was curling up against his chest, at least being more careful now that she’d seen his injuries up close. Ryan was shuffling closer to his side, burying his head under his arm like he did on their family movie nights when he was getting tired but didn’t want anyone to know. James was still tense, jealous.

“Did he teach you D&D?”

“Nah. I told you it’s too complicated for me.”

“Did I hear someone say D&D?” Eddie peeked his head through the door, grin lighting up the room.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Looks like Steve’s got a whole party in here! Are we playing or what?”

Eddie walked into the room completely, smiling until he realized that Steve’s parents were here.

They got together during chaos; they didn’t have time to talk about logistics, about what Steve’s parents knew about him, if they would even be okay with him.

He’d briefly mentioned his siblings to Eddie when they were getting weapons ready, but didn’t talk much about anything else.

“Eds, these are my parents, Richard and Anne,” Steve introduced them, winking at his mom when she gave him a questioning look.

He’d been out to his parents for months, accidentally letting slip that he’d gone on a date with a guy on their Christmas vacation. They took it well overall, the shock making it seem like they were upset, but they were just confused about why he’d only ever brought home girls.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he realized what Steve was doing.

“Ew, a boyfriend?” James, already back to his previous attitude, curled his lip up in disgust.

He looked so like Steve sometimes, it was alarming. If they were out running errands together, people often assumed he was his son.

“James! Watch your tone!” Anne said as she reached out a hand to shake Eddie’s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Eddie. I assume you’re the one who helped carry Steve to safety?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So polite. Who would’ve thought Steve found someone so nice?” Richard said with a smirk and a wink at Steve.

“Are you in love?” Bethany asked as she watched Eddie from her spot against Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel his face heat up, watched as Eddie’s face went red and he looked down at the floor.

“We care about each other a lot, B,” Steve replied, hoping she would drop it.

“But he saved you! Like a princess!”

Eddie let out a small laugh as he got closer to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Well, you look like a princess, too. What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up at Steve for a moment to make sure it was okay he sat there. Steve nodded once.

“Beffany.”

“Princess Bethany? Of Loch Nora?”

Bethany looked at Anne to confirm, nodding as soon as her mom gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie stood back up, bowed, and then sat down again.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, your highness.”

“Are you a knight?” she asked as she scooted away from Steve’s chest and off his lap, climbing her way into Eddie’s.

Ryan was even pulling away slightly to watch what was going on.

“I wish! I haven’t been through all of my training yet. Maybe you could help me?”

“What kinda trainin’?” Bethany started playing with his hair, but Eddie didn’t stop her, wanted her to feel comfortable while Steve recovered.

“I need to learn my royal etiquette. Do you think you can show me?”

“Yes! We have lessons!”

“Great!” Eddie beamed at her. “Maybe you can give me lessons when your brother goes home?”

“Mommy! Can Eddie come play?”

“Of course. But not today. Steve has to keep resting here for a couple days and I think Eddie probably wants to be here for him.”

“Okay. I stay too?”

“No, baby. We have to let Steve rest some more. We can come back to visit tomorrow.”

Steve felt Ryan and James cling to his arms when they realized that meant they were all leaving.

“But Robin and Dustin are staying!” James was jealous. He loved spending time with Steve, thrived on being considered “mature” enough to run errands with him when their parents were busy, helping him with chores because he was the only one big enough.

Dustin was a threat to his time with Steve, even at eight he could tell.

“Actually, I passed Dustin’s mom on the way here and she was coming to get him soon to go home. He hurt his ankle and shouldn’t even be walking around right now,” Eddie said, eyes squinting in Dustin’s direction like they’d already discussed this once.

“And I have to get home to my parents so they don’t worry. Maybe you can walk me to the bus stop and keep me safe?” Robin asked, somewhat awkwardly.

She didn’t know how to talk to kids, but it was a valiant attempt.

And it seemed to work.

James perked up at the thought of helping in a big kid way.

“Oh, darling, we can drop you off at your house on our way home,” Anne said. “I’ll take you and James can walk with us so we aren’t alone. Right, James?”

James nodded vigorously.

“I’ll protect you. And then we can come back tomorrow to see if Steve’s better.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Ryan’s head, smiling when he realized he fell asleep at some point during the conversation.

“He barely slept last night. I’ll carry him. Hopefully now that he’s seen you’re alive and okay he can rest,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“If you bring them all tomorrow morning, I can help them make character sheets for D&D,” Eddie suggested.

“Yes! Please, dad! Can we?” James bounced in the bed, jostling everyone a bit.

Steve hissed in pain, but tried to cover it with a smile when James looked at him with an apologetic look.

“Sure. If you promise to sleep tonight and eat breakfast in the morning, we can come back.”

“I promise!” James poked Ryan. “Ryan! Promise you’ll sleep tonight and have breakfast in the morning so we can come play D&D!”

Ryan blinked a few times, nodded, then snuggled back into Steve’s side.

As Richard and Anne worked on gathering the kids and Robin and Dustin walked out with them, Steve relaxed in the hospital bed, finally feeling most of his injuries.

He knew they would give him more pain meds if he asked, but he wanted a few minutes with Eddie first.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he took his hand in his own, gently squeezing as he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“Thanks for being so cool with them,” Steve let his eyes close for a moment as he took in every wound on his body.

He knew this was a close one, could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him a moment ago.

“You never told anyone else about them?”

Steve shook his head.

“Didn’t really need to. I figured they’d all meet eventually. Just never came up before.”

“Want me to get the nurse?” Eddie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now, so he changed the subject quickly.

“In a minute. Wanna kiss you.”

“Oh yeah? Come kiss me then.”

Steve opened one eye and started pouting.

“You come kiss me,” Steve said.

“Fine. But only because you’re hurting.”

Eddie leaned down to press his lips against Steve’s softly, a comfort as much as a promise for more when he was better.

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just gonna get the nurse and grab a snack from the machine down the hall and then I’m all yours for the night.”

“Can’t wait to feel better.”

“I know. Maybe next time you won’t try to be a hero, hm?”

“No, I don’t care about the pain or anything.”

“Then…”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie choked. “Are you always like this or are there still some drugs in your system?”

“Dunno. Never felt like this with anyone else.”

“Stevie…”

“You’re good with them. Especially Bethany. She’s a lot. But you did good. Good for my nuggets.”

Steve was slowly losing consciousness and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile creeping up on his face.

“They seem like good gremlins. They sure love you a lot,” Eddie whispered.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Oh. I don’t think they know me well enough to love me yet, sweetheart, but that’s nice of you to say,” Eddie scrambled to get out, his heart flipping over in his chest at the thought that that wasn’t what Steve meant.

“No.” Steve opened his eyes, staring right at Eddie. “I do. I love you.”

It was crazy. Probably a product of his injuries, exhaustion, and drug cocktail in his system. He probably thought he loved him, but they’d only just gotten together officially.

“Eds. It’s okay. I’m just lettin’ you know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

“I just. I. I think I love you too. I just don’t see how you love me.”

“‘S easy.”

Just that easy.

Like Steve would have said it whether he was in the hospital or not.

—------------

The next morning, James, Ryan, and Bethany planted themselves on Steve’s bed while Eddie explained character sheets to them.

Steve watched with a smile as all of his siblings watched Eddie in awe.

His family meant the world to him, and Eddie did too. He wanted things to always be like this.

When Eddie smiled at him over James’ shoulder a while later, he thought that maybe they would be.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington has good parents #steve harrington has siblings #hurt/comfort #this was what sleep deprived me came up with and im keeping it #not steve planning out his six nuggets with eddie the moment he sees him with his siblings #but also yes that

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leaentries · 8 months

Text

karma | quinn hughes

summary: sleeping with your best friend's boyfriend proves to bring major heartache, even if you broke things off. he was the man you weren't supposed to love, but karma has a funny way of working.

warnings: angsty themes, cheating, swearing, manipulation, gold-digging

wc: 2.4k+

a/n: surprise! here is my first quinn fic on a random thursday at 2:30am! I honestly didn't know where I was going with this when I started writing, but then I got carried away...

Karma. Was it real? Many people could beg to differ, however, in this moment… you felt the repercussions.

The sound of your cries echoed throughout the empty bathroom. Thunderous cheers muffled their way through the cement walls. The cool tiles pressed into your exposed legs as you sat on the ground. Sobs wracked through your worn body.

You asked for this, didn’t you?

The words you said to him rang in your ears. Those cruel and unregarding words. Yet, he needed to hear them.

❥.

“I want my life back, Quinn. My life before you.”

Your throat ached, your cheeks bright red with tears violently pouring down. Not that Quinn looked much better. This was the worst fight the two of you have ever had. All of the screaming, crying, cursing, it felt like it would never end. Although this was a long time coming, it still didn’t stop the bone-crushing pain that seeped its way into your heart. You knew you were gonna hurt him, but you also knew you had to. He was becoming too attached.

You both agreed when you started this fling it was only temporary. C’mon, how could a true relationship form when he was dating your best friend? He promised he wouldn’t fall for you, regardless of how shitty Bethany treated him. That was your reasoning, the only thing you could use to push away the heaving guilt of sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend.

Still, karma always came around full circle.

And here it was, in the form of Quinn getting down on one knee in front of an arena full of people. The diamond glimmered in the bright lights, the flashes of cameras making it that much prettier. The look on his face was nothing short of love, but not for the girl in front of him, no, rather for the girl standing beside her. Bethany’s eyes filled with tears at the sudden proposal. Nodding her head “Yes” rapidly.

You felt suffocated, needing nothing more than to leave. You turned, making your way through the dense crowd, finding the nearest private staff bathroom.

❥.

This is where you remained until you were able to properly breathe again. In this moment, in this stupid bathroom, you found yourself praying the harsh words you told Quinn that night would become a reality. Alas, maybe sometimes karma isn’t always out to get you.

A knock sounded from the other side of the steel door. Standing, you used the wall to maintain your balance. You walked over, to unlock the door, forgetting to check your disheveled form in the mirror.

There was a sliver of hope that remained in your heart at the possibility of Quinn choosing you. You knew it was selfish, especially after you practically ripped his heart out when he told you he loved you. You gripped the handle, sucking in a quick breath. You opened the door slowly, only to be met with Bethany’s gleaming eyes. You looked down, shamefully filled with disappointment.

Bethany slightly shoved you out of the way, barging into the single room. You paused a moment, taking a beat to compose yourself before facing your best friend.

Turning around, you saw Bethany fixing her chestnut hair in the warped mirror. She looked so happy. And you felt so guilty.

Now even though Bethany wasn’t the most selfless person, or even the most caring, regardless you still felt the weight of what you and Quinn had hanging from your shoulders. She has been in your life since you moved to Vancouver 3 years ago. She was your very first friend and a betrayal like that was not easily forgiven.

“Y/n, I cannot believe he proposed! I mean, I honestly thought he was gonna break up with me, you know? Remember how I was telling you how he started getting super distant and his responses were super short? I guess it was just his nerves. God! I’m so excited to plan the wedding!” Bethany blabbered on and on about her new wedding plans and how great being married to Quinn was gonna be.

You tried to fake a smile, but the tears in your eyes were hard to ignore. Hell, even Bethany noticed.

“Are you okay? You have mascara running down your face.” She approached you, getting a closer look at your blotched face.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You were positive she was gonna see the guilt and sadness etched deep in your eyes.

“Awww, y/n/n! You’re crying out of happiness!” She brought you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around her loosely, troubled at her statement. Here, you were, clearly upset, and she couldn’t get over herself long enough to notice. That may be selfish and inconsiderate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Bethany quickly started up again, rambling on more. You stood, leaning against the wall barely paying attention to a single word that fell from her lips. That was until you heard her say, “I mean, shit, this relationship wasn’t even supposed to go this far.”

Your head snapped up, looking at Bethany through the mirror. “What do you mean, “wasn’t supposed to go this far?”

She turned towards you, “Back when we first started hanging out, you know, around the same time you moved here. Basically, Jacie had made a bet that I couldn’t bag a professional athlete. I told her to bite me and watch.” Anger flooded your veins, Quinn was just a bet to her?

The man who kissed every inch of your body and ran his hands over each divot in your skin. The man who practically begged you to love him back. The man who you let get away, just to spare the feelings of your so-called “best friend.”

“Originally it was just supposed to be a hit-and-run type of deal, but the poor dude latched on to me, and what can I say? I loved the attention. Now I’ll look even better with the Hughes’ name.” She finished with a satisfied smile.

Fury coursed through your entire body, you saw red. “You’re fucking using him?”

Bethany looked shocked at your tone. “I-I mean not, technically.”

“No. None of this technical bullshit, Bethany. Are you in love with him?”

The conflict was reflected in her features, “Love is a strong word, but I definitely care for him.”

You were in utter disbelief. To think you gave up the only man who you’ve ever truly loved to help the stranger standing in front of you. Your teeth ground together in anger. “Then why the fuck are you marrying him?”

Now it was her turn to get angry, “Because he asked me, y/n. Why the hell do you even care? It’s not like you are the one getting engaged to him.”

Even though she had no idea what went on between you and Quinn, her statement still felt like a deliberate punch to the gut. Yet, she was right. You weren’t the one he proposed to, you weren’t the one he chose. Except, you were.

❥.

“Please, y/n. Don’t lie to me. I know you love me too. You say the words and I’ll leave her. Just please, say something.” Quinn begged you. His chest heaving with panic and worry. He was scared to lose you.

You knew you couldn’t bear to hurt Quinn, but Bethany was your best friend and you couldn’t hurt her either. That is the only reason the following words left your mouth, the words that made Quinn drop everything and leave you that instant, never looking back.

“I’ve never loved you. I'm just sorry I let it go on for so long, I could have saved you some grief.”

❥.

You hurt Quinn for her, and for that, she could never be forgiven. “Why do I care? Oh, I don’t know, probably because you’re about to marry someone you don’t even love, Bethany. I mean do you even have a fucking brain? Why the actual fuck would you ever hurt someone like that? What are you gonna do if Quinn finds out that you’re using him? I bet you don’t even care. God, you are such a selfish bitch. I can’t believe I hurt Quinn for you.”

Bethany stood in silence for a moment, taking in everything you said to her. To your surprise, she didn’t yell back. Her voice remained stoic, “I figured. You just proved my theory. You know, it’s really rich. You standing there calling me a selfish bitch when you were the one sleeping with my boyfriend.”

You immediately attempted to deny, not for your own sake, but Quinn’s. However, Bethany cut you off, “Shut your fucking mouth. I had suspicions you two were hooking up. I mean, c’mon no one becomes that close that quickly. And the way Quinn looked at you? I’m surprised he didn’t fuck you in the middle of the room to claim your ass. He never looked at me like that. So yeah, I said yes to his proposal because for once he chose me, not you, me.”

She walked closer to you, her face remained still, voice stern, “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of him when he’s in my bed instead.” She flashed her ring at you, “Except, this isn’t temporary. It’s forever” She whispered the last part.

Bethany took one last glimpse in the mirror before grabbing her bag and leaving the bathroom without sparing you another look.

You slowly sink back down to the floor, a new round of sobs shaking your body. The feeling of finally losing Quinn was too much for your knees to hold up. You clawed at your chest, the undeniable pain making it hard to breathe.

❥.

You eventually gathered yourself up and left the bathroom. Planning on making a b-line to the back door and straight to your car, you didn’t bother to fix the redness of your skin or the blatant mascara still running down your cheeks.

Walking at a brisk pace, you weren’t completely paying attention to where you were going. You didn't think to look up until you were met with a solid body almost knocking you over with the collision.

There they were, those gorgeous eyes that brought you so much joy, yet so much heartache. The eyes that belong to the man you weren’t supposed to love. Quinn picked up on your distressed state instantly. He had always been able to read your cues.

“What’s wrong, y/n?’ His voice was distant like he was trying not to get swept into you. Quinn knew the second he reopened that wound, there was no shutting it. That’s one of the reasons he decided to propose to Bethany. It was a feeble attempt to keep you out; To pretend you never existed.

This proved to be harder than he thought. Everywhere Quinn went he saw you, saw things that reminded him of you. He knew it was wrong to be so consumed by you, but he couldn’t help it.

Quinn snapped back into focus when you shook your head, trying to get out of his hands that rested on your arms. “I’m fine, Quinn.” You hesitated to say his name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He removed his hands with a slight wince, clearly still sore over your rejection.

Yet, something came over him. He wanted the truth. If he was marrying Bethany, the least he deserves is some truth from you. Quinn grabbed your arm once more, leading you into a side room, quickly shutting and locking the door.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed, not happy with the current situation. “Let me out, Quinn.”

He crossed his arms, blocking the door with his toned body. “Give me the truth, Y/n. Why are you crying?” Quinn would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the reason was because of his engagement. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Quinn still loved you.

“It’s nothing, really,” Trying to come up with an excuse, you became desperate, “I am just super overwhelmed at work and it’s just taking a toll, I guess.” You were confident in your answer, it was simple enough and believable. There was no way he wouldn’t believe it.

“You’re lying. You are on vacation right now. Y/n, I’m being serious. Tell. me. The. truth. I am so sick of all the lies and deceit. Give me something, please.” His begging only made your feelings worse. He didn’t know how badly you wanted to tell him you loved him. It would be so easy.

Maybe that’s why you decided to throw out all logic and be selfish. You deserved to be selfish. “Fine, Quinn. You want the truth? I’m in love with you. I always have been. I lied to you that night, all those awful, fucked up things I said. They were all lies.” Saying it out loud brought a euphoric sense of relief.

Quinn was rendered speechless. He was filled with anger, confusion, but most of all: love. The girl he loved most finally loved him back. He searched your face for any signs of uncertainty. Finding none, he stepped towards you.

“Say that again.” He demanded.

You looked at him confused. “Wha-” He cut you off.

“Tell me you love me. Please, for the love of god, tell me you love me.”

Mustering up more courage, you spoke more defined this time, “I am in love with you, Quinn Hughes. And there is nothing that could ever change that.”

Quinn cupped your face, pulling your lips to meet his in a blaze. The anger, fear, and love were all present as you gripped onto his bicep. The kiss got heated quickly, Quinn backing you against the opposite wall. Your mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongue, desperate to feel each other again. When you eventually pulled away, you both took a moment, basking in the feeling of holding the other. The restless nights of longing were finally over. All the sneaking around and guilt was pushed aside.

Quinn was the first to break the silence, “I’m gonna go end things with Bethany.” You met his eyes. He brought his hands back up, wiping away some of the stray makeup. “Even with runny mascara and messy hair, you’re beautiful.”

For the first time that day, you truly smiled. The pain in your chest was gone, replaced with an undeniable warmth. As Quinn placed one last kiss on your lips and left to go end his engagement, you realized something.

Karma really does have a way of coming back full circle.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x chubby!reader #vancover canucks #nhl x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #jack hughes #luke hughes #leawrites🍀

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