#she just knew nobody would believe her or care if she spoke up about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaegeraether · 4 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 40)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (37) & Alexia Putellas x Character (8)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**This is my largest chapter so far (5.6k). I hope you enjoy!**))

Alexia didn’t respond, and nobody knew what to do. In fact, nobody had seen her like that before. Eyes darted from Alexia to Ridley and back with worry and confusion. Lucy and YFN met each other’s eyes with equally worried expressions, though they’d both clicked on.

“She’s the girl from the bar?” Lucy asked Alexia.

Alexia hesitated before she nodded.

“Exactly how many people have you told about last night, la Reina?” Ridley asked slowly in Spanish.

“What happened last night?” Oshoala jumped in curiously.

“Asked and answered.” Ridley murmured and gestured to Lucy and YFN. “Just these two then?”

“That was you last night?” YFN asked Ridley. Lucy put a hand on her arm supportively but also because she just wanted to touch her.

Ridley kept Alexia’s eyes as she responded to YFN. “I told you I made a mistake. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

“You can say that again.”

Ridley turned to look at YFN a little hurt. She’s one person she never wanted to disappoint.

“You never told me it was Alexia.”

“You never asked.” She replied with typical Ridley sass.

One of the coaches yelled from the tunnel then, a little annoyed that they were still chatting. Panos and Oshoala left the awkward exchange first. YFN looked to Keira who had backed away a little, seemably deciding it wasn’t the best time for introductions. Instead, she and YFN exchanged a shy wave before she also ducked off into the tunnel.

“Why are you here?” Alexia asked in Spanish, finding her words.

Ridley assessed her expression, before she removed the leather jacket and held it over the barrier for her.

That clicked for Lucy, but YFN wasn’t aware she’d left her jacket behind. Alexia took a step forward and gently took it without touching Ridley.

“Is that all?”

“No, Alexia. That’s not all.”

Lucy knew a little Spanish, but not enough to keep up with how quickly they spoke.

“ALEXIA! LUCY!” The even more annoyed yell came.

Lucy looked at her girlfriend, eyes darting to her lips and wishing she could kiss her in front of the crowd. “Thank you for coming. I’ll see you after?”

“Yes please.”

“Oh and here…” Lucy removed her jersey and gave it to her. “We have two per game.”

YFN blushed at that, sharing a look with Lucy that said she couldn’t believe they were together again.

Lucy grinned and gave her a quick hug before she jumped off of the cooler box and took Alexia by the arm, tugging her towards the tunnel.

“It’s not the time or place…” She murmured to her.

“My number is in the pocket.” Ridley told Alexia as the Barca Captain allowed Lucy to drag her away. She turned to YFN who was pouting at her. “That’s why you wanted to come? I knew you had an alternate motive.”

“No, Blue. I would have done everything the same regardless because I love you and wanted to see you. This was a bonus that I leapt on when the stars aligned.”

YFN couldn’t help but still be a little mad. Ridley knew Alexia was Lucy’s teammate.

She shrugged her jumper off before pulling Lucy’s jersey over her shirt and pulling the jumper back on. Her match worn shirt. It was a little bigger on her but perfect nonetheless. She felt across the stomach of the material, smiling to herself before looking back up at Ridley.

“You really did that last night?” It wasn’t judgemental, it was worried.

Ridley sighed as they sat down again. “You know I sleep around, Blue.”

“But you made her screw another woman?”

“I invited her. Both parties were willing.”

“You really upset her…”

“I really upset myself.”

YFN could see on her face that she was telling the truth and she felt for her. Ridley was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a bad person. She was one of the best, bravest, smartest people she knew, and a lot more caring than she let anyone see. She had wondered before about the type of person Alexia had interacted with last night and now it made sense and to be honest, her theories weren’t wrong.

Ridley held out her arm in a peace offering and YFN hooked her arm through and rested her head on her shoulder. At the end of the day, she was still Ridley, and as broken as she was, she was still going to be an important part of her life forever.

They sat in silence for a little, watching the half time entertainment on the ground before YFN spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I like my emotions like my water. Bottled.”

Ridley notoriously didn’t talk about anything related to her emotions. The one person in the world she ever spoke about her family and their childhood with was YFN, because she’d been there, and she’d never had any proper relationships to talk about. Any flings, however, she could talk about. Because they meant nothing to her. Alexia was different though, and YFN could see it on her face when she asked the question.

“There’s not much to say,” she murmured as she snacked slowly on her popcorn.

YFN rolled her eyes and a piece of popcorn hit her in the forehead.

“Besides, it seems like you already know?”

“I want to hear from you.”

Ridley sighed and put her popcorn down. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

YFN squeezed the arm she was still holding, hoping to keep Ridley a little warm now that she didn’t have a jacket. She had goosebumps, but she’d never complain, and the Australian flag around her wasn’t helping much.

“I met her in a bar.”

“Your favourite bar that you’re always talking about? With the sex rooms?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

She glued her mouth shut.

“Yes, that bar. I knew who she was immediately, and people spoke about her like a goddess, but there’s just something about her that draws me in. I try to ignore it, but it’s still here. I don’t even have to be looking at her to know she’s right there.”

YFN knew that feeling all too well and she looked at the players running back out, her eyes finding Lucy. She had her arm around Alexia’s shoulder, as if to ensure she wouldn’t turn to look at them when she walked out. Lucy did though. She couldn’t help herself.

“Something…perfect. Something I didn’t want to taint. Something I didn’t want to ruin. I still don’t.”

“So you slept around to make her jealous?”

“I always sleep around. But I slept around more at the bar to push her away, and hoping that it would end this feeling.”

“But it didn’t…” YFN whispered as the whistle blew.

“It didn’t, and I kept going back just hoping to be in the same room as her.”

“Oh Riddles…” It was so unlike her.

“I knew I was being stupid so I left. I took that temporary contract based out of Dubai. It lasted five months and I tried to not come back to the bar, but I couldn’t help myself. She was all over the news.”

“You saw her again?”

“Immediately. It’s hard to not see her. And I suppose you’ve heard of our little interaction.”

“The one where you beat someone up for her?”

Ridley hummed in response and took a sip of water, her eyes locked onto the field. Alexia still wasn’t playing, but it wouldn’t be long until she was subbed on.

“Two of my favourite qualities of yours.”

“Aggression? Cockiness?”

“Chivalry. Protection.”

Ridley looked at her then and a few feelings about their childhood sat there between their look. YFN squeezed her arm tighter. Ridley had always been her protector growing up. Now she not only had Ridley, but Lucy also. Lucy, however, picked and choosed her battles like with the restraining orders. Ridley, however, would kill. Hell, she almost had that day. YFN’s eyes fell to the scar on her cheek.

“I don’t like how we match.” Ridley said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute of you to follow my fashion trend, but I almost got on a plane to find her.”

YFN remembered the long conversation she’d had to calm her down. Knowing she had Lucy was the final nail in the coffin that was the end of that conversation.

YFN chose to end that conversation quick. “We have restraining orders now. You disappeared again?”

“I left again, yes. I was worried she’d strike up a conversation with me if I went back again. So I struggled with self-control in Barcelona for a month and luckily for me, another temp contract came up again in Dubai and they requested me.”

“You really are the favourite at work, aren’t you?”

“You know it, baby.”

“And last night?”

“Last night…I saw her in the bar. So I took my friends with benefits up to the rooms to get some feelings out. You know the one, Jessica?”

“I remember you mentioning her.” She meant nothing to Ridley, though they’d been sleeping together casually for a few years now.

“Mmn. Unfortunately, Alexia came upstairs and when I saw her, I couldn’t stop myself.”

She ran her hand through her hair, and YFN had never seen her look stressed before but right now she could see a little of that. “I didn’t force her to do anything, you know.”

“I know.”

“They were both aware and willing.”

“I know, Riddles. I know. They know, too. The issue isn’t that and you know it. The issue is that she felt used by you. It’s not a great way to show your affection to someone…”

“I just wanted to be close to her. It would have been too personal if it were just the two of us.”

YFN looked back out at Lucy, a little peeved that she was now on the opposite side of the pitch. “That’s relationships for you.”

“I don’t want a relationship.” She responded quickly.

“You know that relationship doesn’t mean dating, right? Lucy and I are in a monogamous relationship, but you and I have a relationship also. It’s called friendship. You have relationships with your…women. They’re sexual relationships. And your work colleagues? Work relationships. You don’t need to define it. You can just let it grow and evolve in its own way, you know.”

“I can never give her a partner relationship.”

“You don't know that, because you’ve never tried. And you don’t know what she wants, because you’ve never asked. You’re just scared, Riddles.”

Ridley scoffed.

“I’m being serious. I know you think nothing scares you, but this does. She scares you. She scares you because she makes you feel things. She scares you because you know you could fall for her. She scares you because you’ve never wanted to open up to someone before.”

“I open up to you.” It was a weak argument, and from the tone in her voice, she knew it.

“Not all the way. You always have that control, and you’re worried you’ll lose it with her. But here’s the thing, you’ll never know. Because you’ve never given her a chance.”

“We don’t know each other.”

“You know enough. You speak to each other without speaking. Lucy and I are the same, and it’s the exact reason we got together. Now we learn together and grow together. We’re learning to trust each other with our most personal selves and open up. And what’s funny is that you already know all of this, Riddles. You’re the smartest person I know. You just need me to say it out loud for you.”

They reached the 62 minute mark then and Alexia was subbed on for Claudia Pina and the roars of the crowd were deafening. They watched her as she stood at the boundary with her blonde hair in her signature ponytail as she hugged Claudia before jogging onto the pitch to take her place. YFN saw Lucy jog over close enough to reach her hand out for a hi-five as she came on. Lucy, Lucy. Her heart was so big, YFN wondered how it was hers. Ridley noticed her longing gaze.

“If she hurts you…”

YFN’s head snapped sideways to her. “If you touch her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Excitement lit in her eyes. “Woah there, Blue. That’s the first time you’ve ever threatened me, you know?”

They chuckled together. They knew she would have zero chance against Ridley, though the declaration sure made obvious her emotions.

They watched the rest of the game without any talk of relationships, and YFN couldn’t help some of her attention on Ona. She was small and very agile. She went down hard in the 69 minute mark for a free kick, before she was subbed out at 72 minutes having been the best on field. As she walked off, her eyes drifted up and found YFN’s. She looked down quickly as if she’d been caught, and YFN didn’t have a chance to wave.

At 81 minutes, Alexia went down for a trip after she’d disposed of the ball and she fell backwards, clutching her ankle. Luckily it wasn’t bad and she was back on her feet after retying her shoes, but YFN and Ridley were both tense. She gave her free kick to Caroline Graham Hansen who kicked a goal with a decent deflection off one of the Villareal players.

There were multiple missed shots through the rest of the game, a few by Alexia and a clever backwards flick by Lucy from a corner which left her grinning as she jogged back to her spot after the attempt, but it ended 6-0 to Barca at the 95th minute, keeping them unbeaten for their Liga F season.

After they shook hands, Lucy bounded back over at the first chance she had, this time dragging a cooler like she was a toddler. She jumped up on it and YFN found herself wrapped up in her arms again, this time she was even more sweaty but she didn’t mind. She pulled back and couldn’t help but play with the little baby hairs of Lucy’s that had curled at the nape of her neck during the intensity of the game.

“Luce! Great game, and that flick?!”

“I know! I just hit it wrong and Mapi was teasing me on it.” She grinned. “Come down to the lockers?”

YFN looked at Ridley. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“You want me to drag you over the rail and carry you down myself?”

Ridley had a good chuckle at that and finally they were properly introduced, though the exchange felt to YFN a lot like two protective men meeting.

“Thanks for getting her here…”

“Anytime. She knows that.”

“And now so do I.”

YFN groaned. Lucy was obviously a little annoyed with her for Alexia, whereas Ridley was just being Ridley. Just a tad more protective.

“Luce, you need a shower.” YFN said, attempting to break the ice.

“You like me sweaty.”

The sexual meaning had her blushing.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You can thank Ridley for that.”

She became more sincere towards her then. “Thank you. Really… thank you.” She turned back to YFN. “How did you get here?”

“Cargo plane. Ridley organised it and picked me up from Valencia.”

“You drove to Valencia from Barcelona?!”

Ridley shrugged. “I like travelling.”

“How much do we owe you?”

Ridley looked almost offended. “Being alive these days is expensive enough.”

“Still.”

“Nothing.”

“Are you coming home on the flight I booked you?” Lucy asked YFN, her arm tightening around her waist. A few fans started screaming for Lucy’s attention around them then, and YFN tried to take Lucy’s lead by pretending she didn’t hear.

“Uh…we haven’t spoken about that.”

“When do you leave?” She looked like she really didn’t want to know the answer.

“My flight out is at 10am.”

It was Lucy’s turn to groan. “But you just got here…”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCY, LUCY!”

The extra excited fans managed to barge into the friends and family section and were barrelling towards them. “Oh shit, you need to go Luce.”

“Grab onto me.” Lucy grabbed YFN and dragged her over the railing with her and when they were down on the pitch, they looked up at Ridley who was expressionless, and surprisingly resistant to the shoving around by the fans.

“You want me down there?” She asked, unworried.

“Yes?!”

“I’ll get the cooler-”

Lucy was cut off by Ridley leaping down and landing with the confidence of a gymnast. They moved towards the pitch and away from the fans.

“10 am?!”

“Yeah.. I need to be at the airport earlier though for the international flight.”

“What about the storm?”

“Storm will be gone by then.” Ridley interjected.

They’d lost one and a half days due to a storm, and the other half a day from YFN making a promise to Kyra. Lucy’s emotions were clearly written on her face. Regardless, she spoke between gritted teeth.

“I’m guessing you want to drive back with Ridley? You haven’t seen each other in a while…”

“Uh…”

There was a pause and Ridley stepped in. “I’m actually staying in Valencia tonight. You two have your fun, and I’ll catch you next time you’re in Spain. Besides, we’ve had our little catch up.”

YFN knew she was lying, but Lucy didn’t and her body relaxed with relief. It meant three more hours together.

“You’re staying in Valencia tonight?” Alexia asked in English, having crept up on the conversation.

Ridley didn’t respond at first, because she knew it was a lie, and Alexia’s expression said that she didn’t believe her.

“I can be.”

“Alexia is staying here too...” Lucy offered.

That got Ridley’s attention. “Really?”

“Si.”

“It’s her grandma’s birthday tomorrow.” Lucy offered again.

YFN smacked her hip lightly, as if to tell her to stop trying to influence their discussion. Cheeky Lucy. She chuckled, relishing the fact that YFN was here with her arm around her waist and Lucy’s slung over her shoulder. It should have been a crime to live in two different countries.

“Is that so?” Ridley asked, switching to Spanish. “Are you free to talk tonight?”

“I can be.”

“Perfect. I can drive you from here if you’d like. There’s a great restaurant in Valencia I’d like to show you.”

“We’re not having sex.”

“Don’t speak too soon, la Reina. We wouldn’t want to make you a liar, now.”

Lucy and YFN’s heads were shifting from one to the other, like a game of tennis, wondering what was happening. It was hard to miss the word sex, though.

Alexia looked as if she was going to change her mind when Ridley spoke again. “Relax, Alexia. I just want to talk. I owe you a proper apology.”

“Okay…” She agreed hesitantly. “But I need to shower and change first.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside. Message me.”

Alexia wandered off, Ridley’s eyes following every step she took. Lucy turned to YFN and they shared a look.

“I’m going to shower. I’ve booked a seat next to you on the plane.”

“You’re not going with your team?”

Lucy scoffed. “You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“Do you two need a lift to the airport?”

“Yes, please!” YFN agreed, before she’d realised what she’d agreed to. “Go shower, Luce. We’ll be outside. I’ll be the one with the Australian Flag.”

Lucy swore she’d never been so tempted to kiss her before. She leant forwards and her eyes darkened, but the yelling of the fans close by was too obvious, and she didn’t want to share a kiss with her girlfriend with the world. She deserved her privacy.

“I’ll find you, little one.”

The car ride was the most awkward thing all four of them had ever experienced in their lives. It started off awkwardly before they’d even entered the car, all of them wondering the most acceptable place to sit. They eventually decided YFN in the front with Ridley and Lucy in the back with Alexia was the way to go. YFN stretched her arm out behind her and Lucy tangled her fingers with her own. The ride was nothing but music and Ridley chuckling at the awkwardness until they spoke. Surprisingly, it was Alexia of all people who spoke first.

“YFN, Lucy said you both grew up together?” She asked with a thick accent, gesturing between her and Ridley.

YFN turned in her seat, happy to finally be able to speak to Lucy’s friend.

“Oh, yes. We’ve known each other since we were really young. We went to school together and lived next door to each other.” She looked at Ridley cheekily and she knew that expression all too well.

“Don’t you dare.”

She dared. “I have a few embarrassing stories if you’d like to hear them?”

“I will pull this car over and put you in the boot.”

“She can still hear me from the boot.”

“Not gagged, she won’t.”

“I think Lucy would have something to say about that.”

“Don't make me fight on the side of the highway, Blue. I really like this shirt and besides, you need her in tact for tonight.”

YFN blushed at that. The funny little exchange happened quickly, Lucy and Alexia following it amused. It was clear to see they knew each other very well.

“You know Lucy boxes, right?”

“You know I have two black belts, right?”

“Are they always like this?” Alexia asked.

Lucy shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve seen them together.”

“This is tame, I promise you.” Ridley replied before directing her attention back to YFN. “Your girlfriend can’t save you from this.”

“Ah, you’re just the full package, aren’t you?”

“That is correct. Hard to imagine why I’m single, right?”

“Why are you single?” Lucy asked.

“Give it a minute and you’ll see.” YFN muttered.

Alexia laughed then, and Lucy couldn’t help but laugh with her because Alexia rarely laughed like that.

“You know I put a disclaimer out whenever I introduce you to people?” YFN asked Ridley. Their banter was never-ending.

“Let me guess, ‘The best thing to happen since sliced bread?’”

“An acquired taste.”

“You really are a lesbian.”

YFN groaned. Ridley had always been too quick witted, and she was obviously out of practise having been apart from her in so long. Their two passengers in the back, meanwhile, were loving the experience. “That’s it, I’m telling them the 2am chocolate cake story.”

“Don't start.”

“You know that automatically makes me want to start.”

“There’s a pull over bay coming up.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I dare all day long, baby. Try me.”

“There’s also the therapist story…”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “The rollerblading one.”

“They were heelies, and I still think they’re a trend.”

“Was the Jager bomb in your hand also a trend?”

“You tell me, you’re the one to put it there.”

“It was my attempt to encourage you to open up to him.”

“Do I look like a flower to you?”

“Flowers are pretty.”

“I’m not pretty?”

YFN rolled her eyes. “You ARE pretty. But then there’s that resting face you do…”

“I’ll have you know that has gotten me out of a lot of conversations over the years.”

“You two sound like my brother and I.” Lucy said through chuckles. They were still enjoying the show, it seemed.

“You’re going to have to get used to it if we spend Christmas together.”

“Ridley’s coming for Christmas?”

“It her suggestion, believe it or not.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t guilt me into it…”

YFN chuckled and hit her shoulder.

“In Australia?” Lucy asked, wanting to plan.

YFN turned around to her. “I was thinking of bringing them both over to the UK for a white Christmas actually. Nan and I have never had a white Christmas.”

“Yes! Okay, perfect. I’ll talk to my folks, they’ll love that.”

Ridley looked in the rear-view mirror and found Alexia’s eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas, la Reina?”

“I’ll spend it with my family in Spain I think.”

“Ah.” Was the only response she gave, though Alexia saw a bit of melancholy behind her eyes and she looked back to the road.

Awkwardness out of the way, the rest of the hour-long drive was full of banter and YFN made sure to chat to Alexia and Ridley as much as possible. Alexia, because she was so close to Lucy and Ridley, because it had been far too long.

They were a little late and boarded their plane at the last minute, enjoying every second together. Lucy let YFN have the window seat and took her thigh in her hand, refusing to be parted from her. After being apart, they only had another twelve hours together and from the intensifying looks they shared, they were going to make the most of it.

Lucy had planned on cute lunches and dinners, beach dates and introductions to her team. Unfortunately, time hadn’t permitted that just yet. They arrived home and Narla was on them immediately as they entered, yapping away. YFN knelt down, letting her sniff her before she started to pat her. She followed them around as they settled their things into the bedroom and got changed into clothes for bed. Her energy didn’t last long though, as it was 10pm and dark. Narla went to sleep in her little bed in the living room while Lucy was still showing her around her apartment. It was cute, and typical Lucy. Modern, clean, bare necessities. YFN had a good chuckle at the amount of sneakers she had lined up around the walls in her bedroom. While Lucy unpacked, YFN explored two more rooms, one was a spare bedroom and one was full of boxes of trophies that Lucy had won over the years. She found one in particular that she’d seen in a photo at Lucy’s mum’s house. She remembered her mum showing her through the photo album and explaining that it had been the first trophy she’d won. She pulled it from the box and took it to the kitchen sink where she washed the dust from it and dried it.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked, joining her.

“The first trophy you won…I remember your mum telling me about it.”

Lucy picked up the trophy and looked it over before putting it back down on the counter and shaking her head. She took her girlfriend’s face in her hands gently and kissed her for the first time in a week. They moaned as they softened into each other, relishing the feel and taste of each other.

“Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Hm. Well you are pretty good with your mouth…”

“Oh?” She asked as her hands found her waist. “Tell me more.”

“I was talking about the compliments you give me. What were you talking about?” YFN replied cheekily.

“God I should have had sex with you in London.”

“It…wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Appropriate? Sex with us is always appropriate. I can fuck you when I want.”

Everything Lucy said triggered that horniness in her. YFN’s breath caught and she bit her lip.

Lucy’s eyes darkened and she moved her head closer to YFN’s, her thumb freeing her lip from her teeth.

“That’s mine. I didn’t say you could bite it.”

She turned towards the counter just to catch her breath, though Lucy liked her out of breath and out of control. They’d both been waiting far too long to be together again. According to their standards, of course. An hour was too long to be apart never mind a week. Lucy came behind her, trapping her between herself and the counter, her arms coming around her to slide under her shirt.

YFN tilted her head back, relishing the fact that she was shorter than her girlfriend as her lips found that soft flesh under Lucy’s chin and settled there. She freed one of her hands and slid it behind her and between their bodies, finding Lucy’s core and teasing her by rubbing her through her pants. Lucy groaned and rocked her hips, finding friction in her hand as she pressed YFN’s body back to her, trapping her teasing hand between them.

Lucy groaned again and pulled YFN’s hand out.

“Unfair.”

YFN sucked on that soft flesh sweetly as Lucy gripped her waist and rocked her hips into her girlfriend’s ass. YFN was in a mood, the same one Lucy tended to drag out of her often, and she braced against the counter, pushing her ass back into Lucy. Lucy gasped and her rocking turned into more of a grinding and she found that perfect spot she could feel through her pants. One of Lucy’s hands slid up the front of her shirt and grabbed her breast roughly, the other following suit shortly after as YFN’s back arched and her hand came up and over her shoulder, gripping the back of Lucy’s hair. Lucy’s mouth found the side of her neck and bit and sucked as a good reminder who was in charge. Her thumbs flicked over her nipples a few times as their little teasing gradually became more out of hand with each grind.

Lucy readjusted at one point and she had YFN bent over the counter, the cool surface hardening her nipples through her shirt as Lucy held the back of her neck down with one hand and her hip with the other. YFN couldn’t help but moan as Lucy’s leg manipulated hers apart further and she rocked her hips forward, grinding her hard into the counter. YFN loved this, the feeling of absolutely no control as Lucy made sure she knew who was in charge. YFN’s upper half moved against the cool countertop almost as if Lucy were actually fucking her.

Lucy leant forwards and kissed her back through her shirt.

“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?”

“I love teasing you…” she admitted and wriggled her ass under the pressure of Lucy’s pelvis, as if to prove a point. She did.

Lucy broke then and gripped one hand in her hair, pulling her torso back up like that, her back arched tight.

“Bed. Now.”

“No, Luce…”

That surprised Lucy. Her hand tightened in her hair and her mouth found her ear, biting the lobe before speaking into it.

“What.” It didn’t sound like a question, but it was. A challenge to say it again.

“P..please Luce.” She begged. “Please fuck me here first. I can’t make it to the bedroom yet.”

She wasn’t beyond begging at this point. Lucy was thinking. She could feel it and hear in it the way she breathed into her ear, like she was fighting herself.

“Please.” She begged again. “I’ve missed you. Please, then you can h…have me whatever way you want me.”

She felt Lucy shiver behind her. “You’re lucky I’m in a charitable mood.”

YFN shuddered as her core ached for Lucy. Yes. Yes.

She wriggled her shorts and underwear down for Lucy excitedly before she was again pressed back to the counter, her cheek and nipples finding that coolness. Lucy’s hand stayed in her hair, holding her down, while her other hand slid down the palm of her stunning ass, right down to where YFN was utterly desperate for her. Lucy’s fingertips touched lightly and noticed YFN’s core was soaked. Dripping. Clenching and unclenching around nothing.

Lucy groaned when she saw how desperate she was.

In any other scenario YFN would have been embarrassed, but here with her Lucy, she was happily surprised that she wasn’t.

“I missed you…” she whimpered again.

Lucy’s jaw locked at those words. She attempted to regain a modicum of self-control, but it was very, very difficult. She didn’t want to fuck around. She wanted to fuck the orgasm out of her so she could drag her to the bedroom and do all sorts of things to her into the early hours of the morning. She tightened her grip on her hair as she thrust two fingers in harshly. She knew her body could handle it. YFN cried out and her body jerked over the counter and then she moaned at the feeling.

“Yes!” This was exactly what she wanted. She’d missed the feeling of Lucy’s fingers. God, they filled her.

Lucy paused for a second, enjoying the desperate feel of YFN’s pussy clenching and unclenching around her fingers.

Then, she began a ruthless assault in and out, knowing it was exactly what she needed. YFN was so vocal, Lucy could barely hear the loud, wet noises of her fingers going in and out of her desperate girlfriend.

“Aaargh…argh yes! Yes! L…Luce! Thank you… argghh fuuuuuuck. Fuck me. Please don’t stop! Please, Luce!”

That encouraged Lucy to fuck her harder than she’d ever done before with her fingers as they slammed knuckle deep into her relentlessly, the pounding sound similar to the strap.

“Please don’t stop!” She cried desperately. “Please don’t stop! P…please! Argh! Lucy!”

Her body clenched tighter than it ever had done, Lucy barely able to move her fingers in and out. Every fibre in YFN’s body locked as she whimpered through that orgasm, Lucy fucking her through it.

Lucy found herself so turned on that she’d barely lasted thirty seconds under her. Oh, tonight was going to be great.

Lucy let her go and pulled her shorts back up.

“I did my job. Now you do yours.” YFN managed to get herself back upright and turn around to her girlfriend. Lucy took her jaw in one hand. “I want you naked and dripping by the time I get in there.”

Lucy had taken the edge off, but YFN was still in a mood, her eyes dark.

“Half done already.” She kissed Lucy’s surprised, horny face and ducked past her to the bedroom.

(To be continued…)

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hs-is-loml · 2 years

Text

Baby Honey. (c.f)

“And I swear that I'm not thinkin' 'bout you all the time. Just today, yesterday, every day, and tomorrow night”

Pairing: Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and conrad have a complicated relationship but that doesn’t stop him from keeping you on his mind. But will you forgive him after what happened? (PART ONE OF TWO)

Warnings: this one is a bit angsty but it'll get better between them in part two i promise!! sorry for any grammar errors

masterlist - part two Only Angel.

Last Summer

“Conrad, I’m not doing this shit anymore,” you said in frustration.

“Do what, Y/N? You have a part in this just as much as I do,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, Conrad, because I care for you.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” he muttered.

“Fine.”

It had been a while since you last spoke with Conrad Fisher at the debutante ball. Frankly, it bothered you what happened the last time you saw each other. You came back to Cousins after visiting colleges for your older sister expecting to talk to Conrad again but no. He was wrapped around Nicole and pushed you to the side.

You couldn’t believe how much of a hypocrite he had become. After saying a lot of shit on debutante balls and how the girls that did them were sheep, he was escorting one of those girls. It was your sister’s year to be a big sister to one of the girls so your family took attendance at the ball. Your heart felt like it split into two seeing Conrad Fisher be announced as an escort.

Before leaving to go visit colleges, you and Conrad had an argument over him not being ready for a relationship but he wanted the things it came with. Conrad Fisher took your heart from a young age from his charming blue eyes to his alluring personality. You and Conrad started a friend-with-benefits situation at the beginning of the summer with you thinking that this would be enough for you. But it never was.

Conrad knew he messed up the second you walked away from him that night. He never meant to hurt you but he wasn’t enough for you. At the time he couldn’t be what you needed from a person in a relationship. When you left last summer, he didn’t expect to see you again when he accepted Nicole's invitation to be her escort. He needed to get you off his mind. You swarmed every thought he’s had since that night.

Even his family seemed disappointed in him for stupidly letting the girl go. Susannah remembered the days when she would talk to Laurel and your mom about how their girls were destined for her boys. Jeremiah and Belly always seemed to have a connection from early on always being stuck to each other’s hip. Everyone always knew that you and Conrad would end up together or at least hoped. You brought out the best in Conrad when nobody else could. You made him laugh in the best ways possible. They were truly rooting for you two but noticed that the night at the debutante ball something shifted between you two.

You two no longer went to go hang out or spend time down at the beach. It was like you completely stopped talking to him in general. Nobody ever had the nerve to ask either of you what happened between you two. Some thought you had just grown from each other though others knew it was beyond that.

“Mom, do I have to do this?” you questioned as you tried on what seemed like the hundredth dress during this fitting.

“Yes, aren’t you excited to be a deb?” she asked softly.

“A deb without a date, mom,” you said bitterly.

“Who knows maybe you’ll find somebody. You still have time, okay. If not we can figure something out,” she replied back fixing the back of your dress.

This one took your breath away looking at yourself in the mirror. You never remembered a time when you felt as beautiful as you did now. You turned to face your mom and her eyes looked at you in full admiration.

“Oh, Darling, you are truly gorgeous. Always have been,” you hear from the other side of the room surprised to see Susannah here with Laurel and Belly. Your cheeks turn bright red from the compliment.

“Thank you, Susannah,” you told her.

“Hey, Beck,” your mom greeted from beside you.

“Y/n, you look beautiful,” Belly turned to you in a dress as well.

“As do you, Belly,” you replied.

As all the moms caught up with each other, they agreed to do lunch together wanting to spend more time with one another. This gave you time to talk to Belly as well. You hadn’t talked to each other in a while and it was nice to get updates on what was going on with her life since the last time you saw her. She told you about her Cam and Jeremiah situation and how she finally came to her senses when she decided to be with Jeremiah. Which didn’t surprise you in the way she thought it would. It was something everyone already saw coming.

You updated her on your life as well telling her how you’ve been applying for Colleges already hoping to get into Yale for business. Though it would be a while before you did a final decision on where you wanted to go and where you would get accepted in.

“How do you feel about this whole thing?” she asked you referring to the ball.

“Anxious but excited. I’ve seen my sister’s rehearsals and what she had to do before so I’m hoping it’s a similar experience, you know,”

“I forgot about your sister doing this whole thing last summer. She was a big sis, right?”

“Yeah, she was. Too bad I’m a year too late for her to be here,” you admitted.

“Did you already find a date for the ball?”

“No, I’m still figuring that out.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone in time,” she said with a grin.

“Oh, she was absolutely beautiful in that dress wasn’t she, Belly?” Susannah spoke grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I hope she picks that one. She said that she has one more shop to visit before deciding, but I think that was the one.”

“The one, what?” Conrad asked walking into the room.

“Oh, a dress,” Susannah replied.

“You found your dress already, Belly? That was quick,” he said as he turned his attention towards her.

“No, not me. We saw Y/n at the shop we went to today and she had this stunning dress on!” Belly answered excitedly wanting a reaction from Conrad.

“Oh.”

“You should’ve seen her, Connie. She looked unbelievably gorgeous in the dress,” Susannah gushed.

“She always is,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that, hun?” Susannah asked even though she fully heard what he said.

“Yeah, what’d you say Conrad?” Belly teased.

“Nothing, never mind,” he noted as Susannah walked out of the room.

“Whatcha guys talking about?” Jeremiah questioned coming into the room and sitting next to Belly by the counter.

“Just Y/n,” Belly answered.

“Oh, yeah my friend was talking about her at the club yesterday,” Jeremiah replied.

“About what?” Conrad spoke in interest.

“Not much. He’s another lifeguard at the pool and how he wanted her number,” Jere shrugged. Belly stared at the glass of water that was under Conrad’s tightening grip as Jeremiah spoke.

“You will be seated at table two next to Isabel and Shayla,” Paige directed me to my seat.

‘Oh kill me now,’ you thought when you saw who exactly was at the table. It was as if the world hated you, sitting at a table with girls you knew were all gossip and something up their ass. Good thing you at least had Belly.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you’re here,” Belly said as you took a seat next to her.

“Me too, Bells.”

“Please tell me you picked the dress already,” she pleaded.

“Matter of fact, I did… And yes, it was the one you saw,” you smiled.

“Yes!” as she exclaimed it brought the attention of the other girls.

“So Belly, how is it living with Jeremiah and Conrad?” one of the girls asks her moving on from the interaction from before.

“What do you mean?” Belly asked not really understanding what they were actually asking.

“You know like I heard you and Jeremiah were a thing before,” another one said to Belly jealously.

“She still is,” I voiced out.

“So, what I’m getting is that Conrad is still up for grabs though?” a different girl butts into the topic.

“I don’t know, Conrad is pretty quiet when it comes to him liking someone,” Belly answered.

“Hey, Y/N! Do you think you could come over today? I need advice on a couple things and I think you’re probably the best person to talk to about them,” Belly asks me as we walk out of the brunch. You hesitated in your answer seeing that Belly had a mischievous grin on her face.

“Oh, Belly I don’t know…” you trailed off.

“Pleaseee?” she pleaded.

“What do you even need help for?”

“I picked out my dress for the ball but I still need to make a couple decisions before everything is final,” Belly said excitedly as we walked out of the club.

“Wouldn’t Susannah be better for this?” you say trying to make an excuse.

“Yeah but I miss spending time with you,” she said looking back at me.

“Okay.”

You forgot the comfort the Fisher house brought somebody the second you walked in. It was as if Susannah Fisher embedded memories in every wall and decoration as you walked to Belly’s room. You passed Conrad’s room and were thankful the door was shut as you walked by. You didn’t know if you were ready to face him again.

Hours had passed and you forgot the laughter that comes to this house. You and Belly had spent much time with each other before the accidental meeting at the dress shop. You missed her. Granted you missed quite a lot of people in this house whether you would admit that out loud or not. That was until he walked into the room.

“Belly, your mom wants you downstairs before dinner,” Conrad told her as he continued to mindlessly scroll on his phone.

You took notice of his hair being longer than before and took in his tall structure before you realized you were staring. You turned your attention to Belly who had the biggest smirk on her face. As if she had something planned.

“Okay, Conrad. Do you mind staying for dinner, Y/N?” as your name fell from Belly’s mouth, Conrad looked up from his phone seeing you in the room looking at Belly with what seemed like a murderous glare.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say making eye contact with Conrad.

“Oh, come on, you know damn well Susannah and Jere want to talk to you,” Belly responded looking back to you and Conrad.

“I’ll let mom know to set an extra plate,” Conrad spoke as he walked out of the room.

“Belly, what was that for?” you yelled to her quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugged heading downstairs.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m glad you’re here! I almost didn’t believe Conrad when he told me” Susannah said pulling you into a hug as you walked into the kitchen.

“Thank you for having me.”

“You’re always welcomed here,” she replied as she pressed a hand against your cheek motherly.

Now you knew they were trying to conduct some sort of plan. When you saw the only other open seat at the table was next to Conrad. But you decided to not put much thought into it as you took your seat.

“Y/N!” Jeremiah said surprised.

“Hey, Jere.”

“So I was talking with your mom on the phone earlier and she said you already applied to some universities?” Laurel questioned as everyone ate quietly turning their attention to you.

“Yeah, I did. Hopefully, I can add this whole debutante ball thing on my applications still,” you joked.

“Oh! About that beautiful dress, did you get it?” Susannah asked brightly.

“I did.”

“Sweetheart, you are going to be gorgeous in that dress,” she complimented as your cheeks turned bright red blushing.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“Y/N, my friend wants to know if he could get your number? He’s one of the other lifeguards at the club,” Jeremiah said teasingly looking toward Conrad. Who seemed very focused on his food and had a death grip on his fork.

“Jere, I don’t know…” you trailed.

“Oh, you could do better than some pool boy, Y/N,” Conrad said bitterly. The light chatter that had built around the table completely fell silent when the boy spoke out.

“Excuse me?” you replied in disbelief.

“You heard me.”

“Okay, so how’s your college admissions, Steven?” you said wanting to move on from the topic.

You stayed at the house longer wanting to help clean up. Everyone seemed to split except Conrad who was also cleaning up the table. You felt the awkward tension building in the air and it made you uneasy. Both of you waiting for the other to speak out before talking.

“Conrad, what was that about?” you referred to the dinner.

“Nothing.”

“Oh that’s bullshit and you know it,” you scoffed.

“Y/n, get over yourself,” he replied taking the dishes to the sink.

“No, Conrad because you shouldn’t care about that stuff.” as you gathered the cups.

“Okay, but I do,” he said as you walked next to him by the sink to set them down.

“Then stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the one who wanted to end things between us, Conrad,” you snapped harshly.

“This isn’t about us.”

“Then why else do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“You obviously do after what you said at dinner.”

“Just dropped it, Y/n.” as he grabbed a beer from the fridge opening it.

“No, Conrad. You cannot dictate who I choose to talk to in life just because you decided I wasn’t enough for you.” you said as your voice cracked.

“Don’t say that. When you know it’s not true.” he said putting down the beer looking back at you.

“You never even gave me a reason so my fault for assuming,” you said resentfully.

“It was my fault and we both know it,” he voiced out.

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starshipsofstarlord · 9 months

Text

JJ’s Sugar Mama Pays His Bail

Summary -> JJ’s sugar mama Y/N pays his bail, but he isn’t as grateful as she expected him to be. And so she makes him sorry (1.6k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni pleeeaassseeee, smut, oral sex (f receiving), angst, arrest, handcuff kink

jj maybank works other outer banks works masterlist

He was sat in the yellow tinted room, alone with his own wandering thoughts; he had done everything for his friends, and the one time he was selfish, this was where he ended up - in the slammer, just like his dad.He shouldn’t have spent that money, that much was obvious, that could have covered his backside to him being a free man, without a split lip and a debt hanging over his shoulders, but there was nothing that he could do to change his actions now.

This was his punishment, being all alone, and as much as he didn’t want it, he deserved it deep down, or so he thought.

If only he could ride away into the sunset with his bike beneath him, and drift away from the Maybank curse, then he most definitely would. The officers weren’t surprised to have him coiled up in their custody, they’d all boasted that they knew it was a matter of time, he was the most volatile pogue they had ever wanted to capture, and their wishes of taking him away in the back of their siren wailing car had eventually become true.

Nobody would resolve this consort of issues he had dug himself down into, even if they wanted to they were powerless to the bribed force that resides in the Cut. His friends could never afford to free him from the shackles that were this cell… though he had some faith in them when he heard the heavy foot falls of a man with a scrambled moustache whom was dressed in the unmistakable uniform.

JJ spoke no word to him, however the officer did to him, he made a statement, one he was not overly joyous about. “Your bails been paid Maybank, clearly someone has too much money on their hands to let you rot out in here for whatever reason.” The pogue wanted to bite back at his offender but he remained quiet as the barred door was unlocked, and like a lost child he mindlessly followed the cop, wishing he could defend John B, or Pope, or Kiara; whichever one paid for his freedom.

But none of them were in the cramped lobby, or waiting outside, however there was a familiar and sleek car without a scratch this glinted before his eyes, making it simple as to whom his saviour was. She was leant up against the vehicle, sunglasses shielding her eyes as she ignored the curious eyes of passers-by that dared to glance at her.

“Y/N.” He called out her name, slipping past the officers that suspiciously watched as he retreated to the woman that was awaiting on his behalf. “Why are you here? Did you..”

“You know I got you out of there JJ.” She sighed, finally slipping her black mirrored glasses from her face and folding them into her hands. “You don’t need to ask that, as soon as I heard I knew I had to get you released as quickly as possible. A place like that doesn’t deserve for you to be in there, you’re far too good.”

The blonde gulped as he took a step towards her so that their conversation could be on a more private level. “I’m not Y/N/N, I deserved to be in there.” And he believed it, far too much. “You shouldn’t have wasted your money, especially on me. In fact I think you should stop pitying me so much, I’m probably going to keep getting locked up and if you keep bailing me out then you’re going to be as broke as I am.”

He was trying to push her away, distance himself so that he could prove himself for once and for all. When he and his friends finally got that gold, he could make something of himself, and then, and only then, he might deserve her…

“Hey! I don’t pity you, I care about you, there’s a very distinct difference. I believe in you, JJ Maybank, and I wish you would too. Because you’re going to do great things, and I hope to always be one of the people witnessing them. And I don’t care about the money, it means nothing.”

JJ couldn’t help but release a pent up scoff. “Money might mean nothing to you Y/N, but you haven’t had to survive your whole life without it. Can you just take me to my shabby little home so that you can go back to your chic lifestyle and forget about me?" He was being surprisingly brash, he'd never spoken to Y/N that way. He'd always been grateful for the things that she had done for him, but this instance wasn't upon the ladder of his appreciation.

"I could never forget about you J, so will you shut up and get in the car, you're coming with a ride with me. And if you don't like that, it won't be the officers of the law putting you in handcuffs." Y/N saw his mouth about to open, and so she ensured it closed before he could get a sound out. "Don't be a damn brat and do as I say. Now."

She was strict, but she had to be. The line for confessing her feelings to her sugar baby had almost been crossed, and she had to enforce herself not to almost make that mistake again. But with truth, she'd rather survive without the luxuries that made her life what it was than without JJ. For she was just his human credit card, that came running in his times of need, nothing more and nothing less.

He would never be able to feel anything romantic for her, she was his opposite, and sometimes they didn't understand each other, however the tone of voice she had struck him with seemed to work, as he clambered into the passenger side of her vehicle and awaited for her to join him under its roof. "Seatbelt." She instructed him as she watched the pogue out of the corner of her eye, turning the ignition so that she could speed away from the place that he had been locked up.

He was all too familiar with the route of her home, and so he made his way into it, up to the bedroom that was tidy from the freshly made bed and cleaned carpet. "Considering how you spoke to me earlier, I might just put the cuffs on you anyways." They glittered sinfully beneath the light, blinding JJ with his shimmering desires. He willingly, and apologetically held out his hands, prepared to feel the metal scuff the skin around his wrists.

JJ despised being seen as vulnerable, but when he was in such a state he felt safe when Y/N was there, she looked after him, made him feel as though there was nobody that could hurt him. “I’m sorry.” He needed her to forgive him, he hated himself for ever speaking for her in the manner that he had, she was the last person in the world that deserved his attitude. With a loud click the handcuffs were secured onto him, and he realised, he was indeed guilty. He was terrible for speaking to Y/N like that, he was emitting his ravenous emotions, all because of his mistakes, one of which he found greater than the others.

It was never supposed to happen but he had started falling for her, but he didn’t want to drown in regret. If he were to express his feelings this charade that they played would no doubt come to an end, and so he could not allow that to happen. He couldn’t lose her, he had lost enough people in his life. His tongue swiped out from his mouth to collect the anxious sweat on his top lip, as he ogled up at the dominant beauty above him. She was perfect, and he was simply just a pogue. “You should be.” Y/N pressed, her brow arching in a sly rise of optimism. “But you’re going to make it up to me.” She dragged him onto the bed, her hand tangled in the roots of his blond hair, finding pleasure in his pained yet aroused whimpers.

“I will.” He nodded exasperatedly, desperate for her forgiveness, wishing he could claw at her back for comfort and a sense of solace. But she silenced her when she raised her hips over his face, her skirt riding up high on her thighs, and her lace covered mound suffocating any further sounds that wished to part from his lips. His moans were muffled as he instantly got to work, mouthing at the fabric that separated him from what he wished to be his last meal, he was so turned on, it wasn’t fair. This was his punishment and a gift all at once.

Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered as she lazily smirked to herself, a light moan falling from her lips as she rode his face. She wanted to get lost in him, or in this case, on top of him. He was all that she wanted, and this was the only way in which she could have him, and so she would settle for that at this time. She slipped her panties to the side, allowing him to taste the real thing without any obstacles blocking the path of his hungry tongue, because she wanted to feel good too.

And this was the only way. Because maybe JJ was right, her lifestyle was far different to his, she wasn’t a pogue like him, and she had money. But what she wanted with JJ was priceless, she would give it all up if she could do it all over again with him. She bit her lip, relishing in the feeling that her sexual loved was giving her rather than the painful thoughts that invaded her mind.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank angst

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year

Text

The More You Give ❧ (Part VI)

Pairing | Eddie Munson x shy!reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, discussions of anxiety, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, protected P in V sex.

Word Count | ~16,400

A/N | Oh you won't be able to move for all the fluff. Cheeky shout-out to @heydreamchild for this post which made me lose my mind in the tags and think about Eddie's relationship with Wayne's mug collection.

Taglist (please don't ask to be tagged if you won't interact with the fic)

Previous Chapter

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You screw your eyes shut instead of watching the ping pong ball continue its high arch over the remaining cups on the other side of the table. You hear it hit the floor, the barely suppressed scoff across from you at another missed shot.

Your cheeks are burning, have been since you started this game. You open an eye to find May smiling at you encouragingly as she lines herself up for her turn. She’s more practised than you. Invited to more of these parties, asked to play more of these games. The ball flies from her hand and lands with a gentle splash in one of the three remaining cups in front of you, her expression now tinged with satisfaction. You can’t blame her, you’d look the same if you were good at any of this. You fish the ball out and sip the lukewarm beer for a second before forcing the rest of it down just to get this turn over with.

“Sorry,” you murmur, handing the ball to your partner and stepping aside to let him take his turn. Safely at the corner of the table, you glance quickly at the clock on the other side of the room. It reads 11:03pm, and you wonder if you could negotiate heading home by eleven thirty.

Not likely.

When you’d walked through the door, shoulders pressed between both your friends, you had yourself convinced that you would have a good time tonight. Tipsy from the white wine your mom let you drink under her supervision, warm with joy from an early evening spent with May and Heather in your room. It’s your favourite part of going out; the hour or two before. When it’s just the three of you, with nobody else to perform for, you fit right back together as you always did. Swapping gossip, exchanging compliments. Painting Heather’s nails a soft pink, her steady hands painting yours in return. You worked on May’s make up, smiled shyly into the mirror when she set your hair up the way you like it and told you with a pout how jealous she is of its texture.

You listened to Heather, gentle and happy at seeing her boyfriend, at the flowers he’d brought her. You spoke to May about the film you should rent for your next movie night; a comedy with popcorn or a weepy chick flick with chocolate. You’d watched from your bed, grinning and heartsore while May leaned into Heather’s shoulder, serenading her while she applied her lipstick. Heather rolled her eyes fondly as May crooned into her ear, “I can’t fight this feeling anymore!”

Later, head truly fuzzy from paint stripper vodka and lemonade, you’d screamed all the words to Power of Love with them. Hands in the air, hips swaying, content in the knowledge that, if everyone in the house has drank as much as you, none of them will care to remember how you danced and sang tonight. It was exactly as you wanted it to always be. With your friends, believing entirely, at least in the moment, that you still put each other first. That you were friends now not just because you used to be.

Only, Heather’s boyfriend had appeared like a grey cloud in the blue sky of your evening. Before you knew it, she was settled under his arm on a couch at the other side of the room, sipping light beer and talking with the friends he’d brought back from college for the weekend. All boys you can’t stand, and know May can’t stand either. The last time you saw them, when May had told them proudly that you were well on your way to NYU to study Comparative Literature, you’d watched two of them make eye contact, sniggering with each other into their beer. You weren’t proud of yourself for adding that you still might do Chemistry, not that it had helped much.

Soon after, May was called over by some cheer friends. She’d grasped your hand and pulled you along with her, both a blessing and a curse that she refuses to leave you out. Lacking some of your usual self-consciousness, both from your continual sips at your drink and the fact that Caroline, blessedly, hadn’t shown up, you’d managed a brief, fairly friendly chat with Tracy about whether she was wearing too much blush (she was) followed by how well the basketball team will do this year (hell if you know).

Then, when Josh, a boy May has had a simmering crush on since you were freshmen, invited her over to play beer pong, you let her pull you with her again. And here you are, paired with this boy in green and white. Ethan flashes his white toothed smile every time you miss a shot on account of your shaking hands. A charming smile that tells you how girls might get into trouble on his account; girls like Caroline, girls like Erin. You wonder if it was that smile that made Erin follow him upstairs that night, that made Caroline fall back into his arms with little complaint, all the blame placed elsewhere.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, squeezing the top of your arm before turning his attention to the table. May smiles at you again as Josh chugs beer down in a quick gulp, sending you all the signs of gratitude that make you feel guilty for thinking almost exclusively about the ways you could leave soon.

When it’s your turn again, you take stock of the cups across from you. Two on your side, four on theirs, so with any luck this is your last turn. You watch the ball just brush the opposite rim of one of the cups, before bouncing lamely to the table. “Okay, that one was close.” Ethan says kindly, elbowing you.

“Nah, her head’s in the clouds,” Josh says with a smirk, catching the ball and bouncing it a couple times off the table. “Too busy thinking about…Munson, right? Would not have thought that was your type, but uh, I guess that explains why you wouldn’t let Andy-”

“Leave her alone, Josh,” May cuts in, leaning away from him with a scowl. You feel a rush around your ears, your heart in your throat. You like to forget this fact, but sometimes you’re reminded of it like seeing it written in bright red neon. Just about everybody knows what happened between you and Andy to varying degrees of detail, and they can all use it against you whenever they want.

“It’s not that serious,” he says, the following laugh more defensive when May rolls her eyes. “You are dating the freak, right?”

Your toes curl. “Don’t call him that.”

“C’mon, man,” Ethan sighs. “You’re killing the mood.”

“It’s dead and buried,” May corrects, face set in that brilliant frown that gets your heart pumping when it’s directed at you.

Josh glances between the three of you, landing particularly on May and her crossed arms. He looks to Ethan again for support, throws his hands up when he finds none there. “Fine,” he says, smacking his teeth. “‘S boring playing girls anyway.”

He bounces the ball across the table to Ethan, and stalks off with his shoulders sagging. May’s face softens when she comes over to you, your chest warm at her concern. “You okay?”

“Mm. Thank you.”

She pouts, swaying a little. “Why are guys such jerks?”

“Um, I’m right here,” Ethan laughs, chucking the ball back and forth between his hands. There’s that smile again, easy and sharp and clean. You think of Erin, dragged through mud.

“Thanks,” you mumble, barely glancing at him.

“No problem. He’s an idiot when he’s drunk.”

If you were braver, you’d say he’s an idiot sober, too.

“Looks like we need to even the teams up,” May says brightly.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer, the only relief from the situation that this may give you a chance to escape for a brief moment. “I wanna get some water. You guys can keep playing.”

“You sure?” She asks, leaning in so it really is just the two of you, giving you a hit of tuberose and orange blossom, the same perfume she’s worn since your first high school party in ‘83. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing her arm gratefully. “I’ll be right back.”

The air is fresher the second you’re in the hallway, without the clutch of warm bodies forcing you to mutter ‘excuse me’ enough that the words lose all meaning. The damp heat picks up again in the kitchen, smaller groups standing around with cups in their hands, some swaying to the distant music. You glance at the sink, find a couple crowded in front of it, their eyes intent on eachother. Even your slightly fuzzy mind decides against trying to navigate around them in search of water.

“Hey, Ringwald.” It takes a good couple of seconds for you to register that the greeting might be for you. It requires a tap on the shoulder, Erin’s half there smile directed your way. She holds up a cup. “Want some?”

You glance into it, find clear liquid that gets your hopes up. “Water?”

She snorts. “I know I’m pretty badass, but six shots of vodka in one cup is a little much. Even for me.”

You take it gratefully, screaming at your tipsy brain to remember not to drink too much of someone else’s water. A couple gulps and you hand it back to her, surprised at how much you needed it, throat a little scratchy from singing earlier before your joy left with Heather.

“So, uh, how are you?”

You nod, giving her a close lipped smile. “Yeah, fine. How are you?”

Erin tilts her head, her right eye narrowing. “No, I mean, like really how are you?” She waves her cup around, as if gesturing to the entire house. “Seems like you and May are friends again, I guess.”

“We were always friends,” you assure, heart panging. “She was just,” you search for it, unprepared for this conversation. Where you normally would avoid answering altogether, your cottoned up mind combined with the earnest desperation to defend your friend ends in a rambling answer. “I didn’t tell her the right way, you know? She was hurt, finding out from somebody else about, you know, Eddie and I. But we talked it all out and she’s forgiven me.”

“Forgiven…you?”

“For not telling her myself.”

Erin taps a finger on her cup, considering you. “That’s what she was angry about?”

Your mouth opens, thoughts tangling. “Um, I mean, among other things,” you rush, giving her a reassuring smile. “But everything’s fine now.”

“Okay,” she says, that half smile returning. “Glad to hear it, Ringwald.”

“I, um,” you step a little closer, forcing yourself to look right into her eyes. “I did want to say thank you for that actually. I just-” You just worried endlessly about approaching her, how you would even thank her for preventing you from being quizzed about your sex life in front of an entire group. You shrug, and luckily Erin seems to understand.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “You shouldn’t have had to explain yourself in the first place. But those girls are pretty vicious when they smell blood.”

You’re struck with a pity for her you know she’d probably hate you feeling. You try to remember what she was like before her entire friend group turned on her, before she was taken in by that sharp smile. She still had the sarcastic wit, you’re sure. But without the undertone of anger that comes along every other sentence; less bite. Erin has always been confident, but now she carries herself like somebody full of righteous indignation and nowhere to put it.

��You can have the rest of this,” she says, handing you the water and looking away like she’s read your whole thought process and wants out of the conversation quick. “Those six shots actually sound kind of appealing now.”

“Okay, well, see you later?”

She gives you a little thumbs up as she passes. You watch her elbow past the couple at the sink to reach the bottles and cups piled beside it. Already feeling more sober than you had when you walked in, you finish the cool water, resisting the temptation to start playing with the material of your skirt.

“Hey, uh…hey.” You look over at Neil from your Physics class, recognising the sound of somebody trying and failing to remember your name. “Could you talk to Munson for me? Tell him I’m good for the money, it’s just that it’s another week before I get paid.”

You blink. The information takes a second to move from your ears to your brain, longer to process their whole meaning. You feel a flutter in your chest; something like excitement, something like relief. “Eddie’s here?”

“Yeah, and he’s making a really big deal out of twenty dollars, you know?”

You look over his shoulder as if Eddie might be standing out in the hallway, finding only the empty doorway. “Where is he?”

“Uh, he was by the stereo I think? So, you’ll talk to him?”

“Um, sure,” you mumble, pressing past him to walk down the hall back into the living room. There’s May, laughing as Ethan tips his head back to drink, the table laden with a new set of cups. On the other side of the room, Heather, nodding at something and looking serious as ever.

And then you catch him; a head of messy curls, denim on leather, the cut out t-shirt you know Eddie sewed on himself by hand. He’s standing right next to the stereo, sorting through records. His curls shift with a shake of his head and you just know his expression is dismayed, truly disappointed in the collection. To his side, a group of boys is searching their pockets, failing to hide their efforts to pool money together.

Eddie’s presence pulls at you, an invisible but physical tug, and before you know it you’re crossing the room towards him. He jumps a little when you rest your palm on his back, his hand flying to his wallet chain. Then his brown eyes land on you, and you feel the unique joy of watching Eddie realising it’s you. His expression turns in an instant from guarded to happiness. Round eyes look you up and down once in surprise to confirm it’s you, once again in appreciation. He leans right into you, smile a little wolfish. “Well, hey. What brings you to my darkened corner, sweet thing?”

What can you say to that? That in the six, seven hours since you’ve seen him, you’ve felt the lack of his presence? That you’ve spent the last hour in particular wishing you’d never come here, wondering why you didn’t go home with him instead?

“Was surprised to see you.”

“Yeah, well,” he starts, gesturing with his head to the boys behind him. “My services were required, you see.” His eyes track down again, zeroing in at the place on your legs where your dress ends, the fishnet tights wrapped around your thighs. “You look, uh,” he clears his throat, clearly searching for the right word. “Shit. I mean, fuck. You look good.”

Your cheeks warm. You turn to the side a touch, pressing your knees together. “Thank you.”

“I um, really like these.” His hand teases the hem of your dress, thumb brushing across the string of your tights. Eddie’s fingers are a warm sting that has your breath catching, your body aching to be closer to him, to more of his heat.

“Munson?” Sounds from behind him, and the spell is broken. Eddie jumps again, hand parting from your skin like he’d touched a hot stove. His hair flies around him as he turns, face becoming impassive again.

“Gentlemen,” he says, standing in front of you. “Managed to pool your allowances?”

“Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie’s head tilts. “For future reference, save the shit talk till after you have the product in your hand. Unless you wanna add another ten percent for the ounce-”

“No, it’s fine,” another says, elbowing his friend. “It’s all there.”

Eddie sighs, taking the collection of rumpled bills from his hand. You watch him stand in front of the antsy boys, counting each note twice over just to watch them squirm. “Mm. Looks like it’s all here.” He brings his wallet from his back pocket, attached to his jeans by a chain, and tucks the money inside. Then, after glancing around him quickly, Eddie’s right hand disappears into the front of his pants.

“Kept it warm for you, boys,” he cackles, pulling out a plastic baggy filled with green clumps and hurling it towards them.

In the next second, he’s grabbed your hand and is pulling you through the crowd to the sound of, “Munson, you prick!” from behind you. You can hear Eddie’s almost manic giggling over the music, your heart pounding from speeding after him and the fear of the chance at being followed by five boys, all half drunk and furious.

Eddie’s hand remains tight around yours until the cool air out the front door hits your heated skin, finally slowing to catch his breath, still chuckling to himself. You watch him, wide eyed, as he leans back against the front wall, head falling back and then forward to look at you. His eyes flash, his face tells you he’s proud.

“Why did you do that?”

His laughter stops when he spies the serious look on your face, your hands fiddling with your skirt. “Ah, shit. Sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t plan for you to be around but there wasn’t much I could do, sweet thing. It was already down there, y’know?”

“That’s not what I- Why would you aggravate them like that, Eddie?”

Something a little cold comes over his face then. “Satisfaction, pure and simple,” he answers. “The only kind I can get out of guys like that.”

“But, if you didn’t speak to them like that-”

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “If I didn’t speak to them like that- Hell, if I gave them that weed for free, got on my knees and asked for an ounce of kindness, come Monday they’re still gonna throw me, or Jeff, or any of the guys from Hellfire into a locker,” he tells you, voice a plea for you to understand. “Or call me a freak, or lock one of the freshmen, who still barely know their way around the building, in a supply closet for an hour.” Eddie tilts his head at you. “It’s got absolutely nothing to do with me aggravating them or not, okay? It's not about how nice I am, or how I talk to them - it's about this," he stresses grabbing his long hair, then his shirt. "And this. And D&D and the fucking trailer and my piece of shit father. No amount of sweet talk will fix it cause they don't want me to be nice; they want me to change. And I can’t do that, okay? More importantly, I won’t do that.”

Everything he says makes your chest hurt.

It makes sense, that this is how Eddie Munson thinks. Since your first stumbled word, you’ve been hiding yourself away, blending into the crowd to avoid all the pain that comes with being singled out. But him? Eddie has no interest in curling in on himself, shrinking his personality to fit in. Everything he says, every move he makes, is unapologetic. As true to himself as that shirt.

But it hurts to think that something so unnatural to you could be right. For all your good will, all your work and staying under the radar, it hasn't saved you. Your need to keep quiet only led to Caroline’s harshness, the laughter from the cheer girls. Your desperation to avoid judgement only opened all the right doors for Andy to hurt you the way he did, for everyone around you to know exactly how. All your complacency, all your acquiescence, none of it kept your friends nearly as close as you’d wanted them.

You swallow, catch Eddie’s eyes, and whisper in earnest. “I don’t want you to change.”

You could cry at the relief in his face, the fast blinking that vanishes the shine in his eyes. His head tilts. “No?”

You shake your head vehemently, wishing he would hold your hand again so you could play with his fingers. He pushes himself off the wall and leans into your space, hair falling towards you. You look between his eyes and his collar, debating hiding your face there.

“Not even my driving?”

“Okay,” you answer, watching his dimples press into his face. “Maybe I’d like you to change one thing.”

“I knew it!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up. “Sweet girls like you are only ever after one thing. You wanna fix me, huh?”

“No,” you whisper, smiling to the side. “Just, gently improve your interest in speed limits?”

“Yeah? And what about my proclivity for pineapple and olive pizza?”

You chew the inside of your lip, suppressing giggles. “I think, given time, I can learn to live with it.” You feel a buzz of pride at Eddie’s laugh, the crinkle around his eyes he gets when he’s really, truly happy. “I do mean it, Eddie. I like you exactly as you are. More-” You take a breath. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

Eddie’s hand finds yours again, your fingers curling into his, your knuckles at his palm.

“Like me enough to come home with me?”

You want to. Desperately. The relief you felt at seeing him, your whole body telling you that you’d rather spend an evening with Eddie than here, navigating social circles you’ll never really be a part of.

“I have to tell my friends first,” you say, watching Eddie nod.

“Sure thing. I can wait.”

“Okay.” Your gaze travels between his eyes and his collar again, stalling your departure. You want a kiss. Want to kiss him all the time, even for a short goodbye. Eddie, sensing your hesitance to leave, narrows his eyes a little like he's trying to work you out. He catches your eyes dart to his lips, and they curve.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to you. It’s a perfect, innocent little thing. But you like it, like the domesticity you’re learning with Eddie. You want kisses goodbye and hello, his hand in yours in the car. You want elbows meeting sides while cooking together, waking up in the middle of the night just to hear Eddie breathing before you fall away again, catching sight of each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth in the morning. You want your daily life, with Eddie in it, with all the things he adds just by way of existing.

You give him another quick peck, face hot, and run into the house before your mouth asks him to leave with you now and never come back.

You find May in the kitchen, huddled together with a couple of the cheer girls as well as Ethan. She waves brightly when she catches sight of you, gesturing you over. “Hi!” She calls, hair mussed, clearly having continued to drink since you parted. “Where did you go?”

“Um, I was thinking I might go home,” you say, fiddling with your skirt. “M’tired.”

“Oh, are Heather and Patrick leaving too?”

“No, no. I ran into Eddie. He’s gonna give me a ride home.”

You brace yourself, the back of your neck prickling with tension. You watch the expression on May’s face shift from confusion, not to anger or disappointment, but amusement.

“Ohh-kay, you’re tired,” she laughs, shaking her head. You make a noise in embarrassment, checking to see if the rest of the group are listening in and she grins at you, pulling you into a quick, floral smelling, hug. “Have a good night, okay? I’ll see you later.”

You give her a squeeze back, chest warm. “Yeah, later.”

You give a half hearted wave to everyone else, navigating your way to the living room. Heather is where she has been all evening, under Patrick’s arm. “Hey,” you say, avoiding eye contact with the boys around her. “I’m gonna head.”

“Already?” Heather pouts. A quick throb or annoyance rises and falls, your anger that she wouldn't have noticed either way reasoned with the fact that it was your decision not to spend any time with this group.

“Yeah, I’m tired.”

“I thought I was giving you a ride?” Patrick asks, leaning over.

"No, Eddie's gonna take me home."

There’s a moment of quiet, information sinking in before Patrick's face displays a shocked frown. "Eddie? Munson? You're getting in that scrap heap he calls a van?"

You look from him to Heather, spy the clear guilt on her face when you say, "He's my boyfriend. Heather didn't tell you?"

“She most certainly did not- when the fuck-”

“I’m sure she can fill you in,” you say, voice edging towards breaking, thinking about her encouragement, her fingers on the cross around her neck. Heather's mouth opens, her hand coming to that very pendant, and you shake your head. "Bye."

She calls your name behind you, but doesn't come after you when you leave.

Eddie is waiting for you still, balancing a seat on the porch rail and smoking when you emerge. A dimple presses into his face when he flicks the cigarette away and slides down. “All good?”

You grab his hand, bury your face into his shoulder to lean on him a little. Breathe in leather and drugstore shampoo - Eddie, Eddie, Eddie - until your heart stops throbbing painfully.

“All good,” you mumble, turning your head to look at him from his shoulder. “Home?”

You realise how tired you are when you are settled in Eddie’s van, your eyes and limbs heavy. You half want to curl up in the soft seat and drift, but get taken in by watching Eddie as he drives. His fingers following the guitar licks of his music on the steering wheel, his hair shifting when he rocks his head forward. The way he glances at you when he turns, catches you staring and grins to himself every time.

"You know, I didn’t really have you down as someone who’d be into paaarties,” he says, eyes wide with his mocking tone. He glances at you again, at your worn out state, and half closes an eye. “And I gotta say, you don't seem like you were having a good time."

You think about that for a minute, wondering how best to explain your complicated relationship with social events. “I like dancing with my friends,” you start with a shrug. “And getting ready.” You lean your head back. “It’s like the only time the three of us are together anymore.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, glancing over at you. “Why’s that?”

Why is that? You’ve wondered it yourself. It felt like, suddenly, though maybe it happened very slowly without you realising, whatever delicate thread held you together started to strain as you moved in different directions. Or, as they did; leaving you lonely in the place you used to share. Waiting for them to visit, when it suits them.

They changed. You stayed the same.

Only, you must have changed a little. You replay that last moment with Heather tonight in your head, wondering if you’ve ever shown her your hurt, your anger. Six months ago, you doubt you’d even have left at all. It’s more likely that you would have stayed, wishing to be anywhere else, until they wanted to leave.

Eddie looks over at you following your long silence, adopts the soft, encouraging smile he gives you to show you he’ll wait for your answer, regardless of the reasons it’s taking you so long to find it. You get an inkling, then, of why you’ve changed, if only a little.

“We’re all just…different than we were,” you say finally.

“People change, I guess,” Eddie nods. “For better or worse.”

You think you might be better.

Exhaustion takes over when you cross the comforting threshold into Eddie’s home; the familiar smell and warmth of it sending a message across your body that you can relax now. You clean your teeth with the brush Eddie presented you with the first time you stayed over, scrub at your face with warm water until all that’s left are panda eyes you don’t have the fortitude to deal with. When Eddie takes his turn in the bathroom, you search through the little drawer he’d cleaned out for you to find soft cotton pyjamas that have your eyes drifting the second you have them on.

When Eddie returns, you’re standing in the middle of the room fiddling with your hands, still a little worried about the assumption of getting into his bed when he’s not there.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he says, holding the covers open for you and tucking them over your shoulder when you’re settled on the good pillow, the one he insists you take every time. You watch, heart sore, as Eddie removes every one of his rings, counting the little metallic clanks as he drops them on the table. Then goes his bracelet, his watch and his wallet chain. You stare shamelessly as he pulls his shirt over his head, soft hair following the collar up, up, up, and dropping down again in a curly mass around his pale shoulders as the fabric pulls away. You hear the distinct clink of his belt, curl your knees up at the heat the sound sends through your core. Eddie wiggles his hips a little as he pulls his jeans down, stepping out of them ungracefully, kicking them off his heels. He stands before you in his blue plaid boxers, all pale tattooed skin.

“You’ve been staring at me all evenin’,” he says, approaching you, dropping down in a squat so his face is right by yours.

You can’t argue, but find yourself fiddling with the duvet, pulling it up to your cheek and half hiding in it to mumble into the polyester. “I like looking at you.”

“Yeah? Well, looking’s free. Usually touching would cost you,” he says, reaching out with a finger to pull the cover down from your face and leaning in like he’s sharing a secret. “But, uh, just between you and I, sweet thing, you can touch for free, too.” Your toes curl, glancing quickly at Eddie’s pink mouth, watching his lips tilt. “Need some of my services just now?”

“Yeah,”

He hums, his big hand capturing your cheek to tilt your face to his. Eddie’s kisses are gentle and warm. You taste dried toothpaste on his lips, the lasting smoke in his breath from that final cigarette. Then, when your kisses have turned too sleepy to last, just soft presses to his bottom lip, he climbs into the other side of the bed and reaches out for you, fingers wiggling. You tuck yourself into his side, and fall asleep quick.

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You drift to waking, gently pulled from sleep by sunshine peeking through cheap blinds and the distant sound of a barking dog. You are comfortably cozy under the sheets. Even having shifted to either side of the bed in the night, no longer tangled, you can feel the heat of Eddie at your back.

You half snooze for a long time, eyes drifting open to take in the contents of the room. The amps and the Corroded Coffin wall hanging, a closet slightly more full than the first time you were here, a floor still messy but less littered with piles of half clean half dirty laundry. Eddie’s acoustic guitar, his writing overtop in white, THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS.

You close your eyes again. The next time they open, the room is brighter. Turning ungracefully, you come face to face with Eddie, and huff a soft laugh through your nose. Eddie’s hair in the morning is a beast, pressed to either side of his face from his tossing against the pillow. Some locks frizzed to the point of dullness, some still set in loose curls; both types tossed over the front of his face. Reaching out, you tuck each lock back until you can see him properly, every pretty feature of his face.

You consider trying to wake him, but find yourself simply shuffling closer, tucking yourself into him, nose at his neck. Eddie hums, one arm coming up instinctively to settle over your half asleep body.

You finally jump awake to the sound of the front door falling closed in a swinging slam. Eddie blinks opposite you, fully registering the noise and your presence together. He hums, closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath through his nose and opens his mouth wide to yawn so loud he might as well have screamed.

“Coffee, boy!?” Wayne calls as Eddie stretches and cracks his pale limbs. He glances at you in question.

You chew the inside of your lip. “Should he know I’m here?”

Eddie takes this in for a second, then smiles. “I mean, he’s about to, either way.”

Regret at not having asked Eddie to set an alarm rids all the warm cosiness of the scene. Your face feels hot already at the thought of facing Wayne on a Saturday morning having clearly slept in this bed. “He’ll- he’ll think we-”

Recognition dawns on Eddie’s face, and he shakes his head quickly. “He won’t think anything, sweetheart,” he tells you, leaning in till he’s put himself in your eyeline. Eddie’s expression is earnest until it shifts into an amused smile. “I’ll even tell him you slept on the floor to preserve my innocence. Score you some points with the old man.”

Eddie’s sleepy laughter has some of the tightness in your chest abating. The sight of his eyes crinkling at the sides, dimples digging into his cheeks, is a treat you don’t usually get so early.

“What time is it?” You ask, realising it may not be early at all if Wayne’s back. Eddie grabs his watch from the bedside table, blinks away residual blurriness.

“Nine thirty.”

Later than you’ve slept since school started back up, yet even now, the thought of curling back up in Eddie’s arms and snoozing for a little longer is an attractive prospect you’re seriously considering.

“I heard your caterwaul of a yawn, boy! How many coffee’s am I making!?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. You nod. He calls back. “Three! If you can count that high!”

The sounds of clinking mugs and sizzling oil mix with Eddie’s soft grunts as he gets himself dressed, jumping up and down to pull his jeans over his feet and searching through the closet for a t-shirt adorned with three angels, all smoking.

He takes you in when he’s put his rings on, no doubt almost as messy haired as him, watching him from his bed. Brown eyes bright, Eddie leans in to give you a soft kiss.

“Morning, sweet thing,” he says. His hand cups your cheek, letting you press into his wide palm. “Take your time, mm? I’ll assure Wayne my innocence remains intact.”

Your nose scrunches at his teasing, even as you turn to press a quick kiss to the centre of his hand. Eddie rubs a thumb under your eye, then shuffles out his door. Immediately, the noise of clinking plates is smothered by the exchange of familiar jabs and teases between the uncle and nephew.

The days you’ve spent here have made you realise how special their relationship is. Not something less than father and son, but in fact something more. Wayne looks upon Eddie with the exasperated fondness of a dad, but reserves the true judgement they can be prone to. No passive aggressive comments about Eddie’s track record at school, nor questions about the way he dresses, despite the bookmarked King James bible that sits on the coffee table. He’s ruffled Eddie’s hair kindly every time he’s been here while you were doing homework, hung his latest C- graded test up on the fridge. Eddie told you Wayne bought him that acoustic guitar when he was thirteen, saved up for months to take him to a real music shop in Indianapolis and let him pick one out.

You can see, even, the parts of Wayne that have filtered straight down to Eddie. Their humour overlaps, the way they can banter back and forth with each other, never crossing the line into hurt. Though, where Eddie can’t help but grin at a good joke, Wayne remains deadpan through every jibe.

Wayne, when he gets talking, can spin a yarn the same way Eddie can. Stories about his nights at the factory, his old job driving trucks across the country, his youth, told not in a long ramble, but structured perfectly to have you on the edge of your seat.

You know now that Eddie’s kindness, the way he treats you, was a gift from Wayne. His genuine interest in your life, your plans. His continual, earnest offer of food from his fridge every time he sees you. When your mom made a lasagne for you to take in thanks for all the evenings you’ve spent here, Wayne didn’t send the dish with Eddie to school, but drove to your house with it cleaned to a shine to hand it back and thank her personally. Soon after, Eddie let it slip that the daisies he brought you for your first date were bought at Wayne’s insistence.

You’d wondered, that day at the lake, how a boy treated like Eddie is treated could be so bright and kind.

Wayne was the answer.

So you should be braver, emerging from Eddie’s room in that big hoodie of his he’d been lending you on and off and shorts you’d left here the last time you stayed over, no doubt still sporting panda eyes from last night. But you find yourself making use of the long sleeves, fidgeting with your fingers against the fabric.

Eddie’s in the midst of getting his wrist thwacked with a spatula for attempting to steal a streak of bacon as Wayne transferred them from pan to plate. Gasping, he holds his hand in the air and lets his wrist fall limp. “I- I can’t feel my fingers!”

Wayne silently watches Eddie flop his hand back and forth, only a slight crinkle at his eyes suggesting he finds anything his nephew is doing at all amusing. When he catches sight of you, his gaze barely flickers from your messy hair to Eddie’s hoodie. “Mornin’,” he says, turning his back to a still howling Eddie to shake the pan. “Eggs? Bacon?”

The temptation to refuse, to be polite and pretend you don’t want anything from him prickles at the back of your mind. Only, experience has taught you he’ll only plate you up something anyway. There for you if you change your mind, something both he and Eddie say frequently.

“Please,” you nod.

“You gonna set the table, Eddie?”

“How can I?” Eddie cries, wrapping his other hand around the injured arm and holding it up as if the ailment has moved all the way to his elbow. “With this!?”

Wanting to make yourself useful, you venture into the cutlery drawer yourself, giggling as Eddie shakes his limp hand at you, before pulling up the fold out table at the other side of the kitchen. “You’re on coffee duty then, Ed.”

Eddie gives up the routine at the prospect of picking out mugs, his eyes shining. It’s an activity he seems to enjoy deeply; shuffling over to the expansive collection and perusing them like he doesn’t already know exactly who’s getting what.

Eddie likes to give Wayne a novelty Garfield mug, something about the quiet, serious man drinking from the head of the large orange cat tickling him. For himself, a black mug with THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE printed in white letters around a cartoon duck. For a while, he has been trying out different mugs for you, showing the best of Wayne’s extensive collection. But he’s settled on a white NASA mug Wayne picked up on a trip to Houston. “For my smart girl,” he’d said the first time he handed it to you, expression all fondness and pride.

Eating together is becoming familiar to you now. Wayne has picked up on your tendency to keep quiet the same way Eddie did, sometimes asking you questions but generally letting you decide when you want to speak without much prying.

“You two got plans?” He asks, glancing briefly at you then turning to Eddie when you look unsure.

“Uh, nothing solid,” Eddie says, focused on the construction of an increasingly complex breakfast sandwich. “But I was thinking about heading to Greenfield to pick up an album. I had loan of Accept’s newest record from Jeff before he remembered I had it.” His tongue peeks out at his concentration, topping the egg, bacon, hashbrown and tomato with a final piece of toast. “Didn’t think three months was too long to keep it. I mean, what’s an album between friends?”

You watch in near fascination as he manages to keep it all in tact through a large bite. He chews slowly, and swallows. “I’d welcome a road trip buddy if you’d be so inclined, Princess.”

Your face warms at the name used in front of Wayne, but you nod.

“There’s a good bookshop, too,” he says, clearly holding himself back from taking another significant bite. “S’where I got my copy of Orpheus.” He must see something, excitement probably, move across your face, because next Eddie is flashing a pleased smile. “Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

When you’re all finished, dishes washed by you at your gentle insistence, face scrubbed further with luke warm water from the tap and hair finger combed through, you leave a yawning Wayne to his fold out.

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The shop, located two towns over from Hawkins, smells like the music room at your first school. The memory hits you as soon as you walk through the door; standing in three lines and belting out an off tune Amazing Grace with another thirty kids. Playing with claves and tambourines. Eddie seems in his element here, directing you through display shelves of pop and country records around a corner to the back where his kind of music is kept. “Course, some albums I just use the cassette,” he tells you, rifling through a couple of records. You look around the section yourself, counting up the albums you recognise from Eddie’s desk, his glove compartment. “But when I love an album I kinda have to get it on vinyl, you know?”

You don’t, not really. You have your own pile of albums in your room, all plastic rectangles ready for your cassette player or your walkman. Your dad has a collection of country records, your Mom some Joni Mitchell, the Crosby, Stills and Nash records she played constantly when you were a child. Before Eddie started asking you to pick out albums you thought looked good in his room, you hadn’t touched a vinyl since your aunt asked you to put on the White Christmas over the holidays.

Eddie senses your confusion, and shrugs. “I mean, I wanna see the album art for real,” he tells you, finding one as an example. “Not quite as effective at four by three inches, right?” You recognise it immediately as Holy Diver. Eddie has a shirt with this cover on it; a demon standing over a priest splashing in water. He was wearing it that day in the woods, when you ran right up and kissed him. He takes the record from you when you nod, placing it back carefully.

“And there’s albums a stereo just can’t do justice to. They’re useful when I wanna skip songs. But hearing it from start to finish? At the highest quality? It just needs a record. Ah-” He finds the album he came here for and shows you. A blue background, with a chrome, blocky heart shape filled with valves and pumps. "Metal Heart," Eddie explains. "Latest, and best, album by Accept. They're this German heavy metal band? The lead guitarist, Wolf Hoffman?” He sighs wistfully, looking off into the distance. “Man, what I'd do if I got him in a room alone.”

You make an awful snorting sound when you laugh, have to ignore the delight on Eddie’s face lest you burn up entirely. "So,” you start. “Heavy metal is different from regular metal, or is it just another term for it?”

Eddie's face lights up at the question, putting on a refined accent. "Heavy metal, young lady, is a type of metal that encompasses many genres,” he explains, bringing a hand up to add to the role. “For example, one could say all thrash metal is heavy metal, but only a simple fool, would seek to claim that all heavy metal is thrash metal. Do you follow?” His character falls apart at your giggle. “I said metal too many times, huh? Note taken. You wanna listen?"

At your nod, Eddie walks you back round to the front towards a row of glass booths housing record players and headphones. You watch his hands move carefully, treating the record with the same care he uses to hold your hand. When it's in place, he dons the headphones and places the needle, nodding his head until it reaches the start of the particular song he wants you to hear. His hair fans out a little as he removes them, making to place them over your ears until you flinch and he jerks them back.

“A little loud,”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” he says, turning a knob on the record player. “I forgot. Princess ears.” He replaces the headphones, eyebrows raising in question. The volume more manageable now, you nod happily, listening to pulsing guitars build in intensity, joined by thrashing drums and eventually the telltale screeching voice that immediately transports you into Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of his life.

Eddie’s eyes are all soft excitement, shining at you, watching for your reactions.

If you had to make a list of all the things to like about Eddie, his passion would surely sit near the top. The way he fizzes all over to talk about music, and Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings. The way he’s desperate to share his interests with you. Not out of expectation for you to feel exactly the same about any of it, and certainly not with any assumptions that you should understand it already. Just to share, to let you in, to show himself to you.

You wish you were more like him, that way. That you weren’t more comfortable hiding, keeping bits of yourself under lock and key lest their exposure leave the most delicate parts of you open to attack. You try to imagine Eddie using anything like that against you. You remember him leaning across the table to you on your first date, listening to you ramble about wyverns and etymology while your feet tapped your anxiety out onto the floor. He’d thanked you for sharing. Very metal, he’d said.

Three minutes in, and you realise Eddie’s been playing the whole song in his head, because he brings his hands up to follow the chords playing in your ears with an imaginary guitar, hair shaking as he throws his head back and forth. Then he flashes his smile, soft cheeks displaying his dimples and smile lines.

You can’t help it.

You step forward until your feet are patterned with his. You reach out for his sleeve, playing with the chains keeping the left connected across his wrist. Eddie’s still watching you when you tilt your chin, leaning towards him to press your lips to his. Anxiety prickles along your spine, but you know that nobody can see you. Even better, you know that Eddie is between you and the door, hiding you from the world. With the distinctive chains of his jacket in your fingers, his music sounding through your headphones, his lips on yours; everything around you is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Safe, safe, safe.

He pulls away with a huff of breath against your lips, giving you a series of chaste pecks like he isn’t quite ready to stop kissing you entirely despite protesting lungs. Your face burns, but it’s worth it for the way Eddie is staring at you when you finally open your eyes.

“What was that for?” He mouths, gaze flicking to your lips and back to your eyes.

You bring your foot up, pressing the top of it to the back of your ankle and sliding it up and down your calf. A braver version of you would say what every part of you is screaming. Instead you shrug, still fiddling with his sleeve. Eddie tilts his head, clearly unsatisfied, but doesn't press you.

"I like this," you tell him as it finishes, removing the headphones.

"Well, that settles it," he answers, sliding the record from the player back into its sleeve. "You're coming home with me."

You watch Eddie navigate the shop like it's a second home. He stops off at the cassettes, rifling through for anything new, anything he might not have heard before. He grabs a couple blank tapes too, looks at you to the side with pink cheeks. "In case I wanna make any more mixtapes."

At the desk, Eddie places everything down carefully while you wait at the empty till. After a good thirty seconds, you start playing with the rings on Eddie's left hand while his other raps against the wooden desk. "Uh, hello? Anybody- ah, shit."

"Munson," says the bespeckled boy who emerges from the back room.

Eddie’s fingers twitch, and you cease your fidgeting to look up at him, find his face pulled taught. "Oh, hi. I, uh, didn't think you worked on Saturdays anymore."

"Switched to the weekend shift," he answers, stony faced. "That gonna be a problem for you? Surely you’re not still in highschool?"

Eddie frowns, hand twitching again as he sighs. "Listen, man, I'm not looking to argue-"

"Don't know why else you'd show your face. You know your money's no good to me."

Eddie slumps, all the easy happiness pulled from him. He hasn’t looked at you once, and your heart aches.

"I'm buying these," you declare, searching through your bag for your purse. Tissues, no, lipgloss, no, mixtape, no.

They both turn to you. The boy behind the desk takes you in finally, his nose wrinkling. "Oh yeah? You a metal fan?"

"Mm hmm,” you say, voice higher than you’d like.

"Okay, name three Metallica albums."

You glance at Eddie, find him rolling his eyes until you ask. “But Metallica only has two albums, right?"

Eddie’s immediate smile is warmth inducing, causes you to shuffle with shy pride. You thrust out the money in your hand, start gathering up the items again to place in your shopping bag while Eddie grins in the face of the scowling man.

"Whatever,” he says finally. “I don't wanna see you around here again, Munson."

Eddie gives him a little salute, then grabs the bag from you and takes your hand to leave.

"Jesus," he breathes as soon as the bell announcing the doors closure sounds. "You can't talk like that, sweet thing. We're in public. You’ve-" He scratches at the back of his neck. “You’ve really been listening to me talk about it all the time, huh?”

You frown. “Of course, Eddie. I like it,” you answer, tugging his hand to start the walk back to the van. “Who was that?"

Eddie’s smile drops. "Uh, Peter? We actually, kinda used to be friends. I introduced him to all his favourite bands back in the day, you know? Then suddenly he’s the gatekeeper of metal- I mean it’s a fucking joke.” He opens the side door, placing your bag behind the front seat. “S'how I met Gareth, really. Poor kid couldn't name two Dio albums so he gets insulted buying the latest one, what the hell is that? We all have to start somewhere. I mean, when I met that guy he was a U2 fan. Anyway-” he continues, closing the door. “I told him he was being a dick and he got all pissy about it."

You chew your lip. "He acts that way, because you called him a dick?"

Eddie blanches, his head falling back with a quick groan. "Okay, I wanna add a disclaimer that I was sixteen and dumb," he starts. "And he really was being a dick, acting like- like all those guys metalheads are supposed to hate in the first place, and-"

"And?"

"And I hit him. Real gentle. With my fist."

"Eddie,"

"Sweet thing, even you woulda decked him if you'd been there. I swear. And, I just can't fucking stand that shit, you know?"

You do know. Eddie is all gentle touch and soft smiles around you, but something changes in him when he’s witness to injustice. He'd had to miss a date just last week because he had detention, brought about by standing over a sophomore who'd dared to mess with one of the freshmen in Eddie's club. "You make one vague threat about human sacrifice and suddenly everyone's got an opinion on what constitutes bullying," he'd complained later. "If teachers aren’t gonna teach that kid not to be a cunt, why shouldn't I scare it out of him?"

You've heard him call the whole group his little sheep, laughing like he doesn't kind of mean it. Like he doesn't think of them as weird kids he'd gathered together in something of a herd, a pack. Like he doesn't think of himself as their shepherd, as their protector.

"Point is," he says now. "He's the one in the wrong, I swear. Shit. I can't believe he works weekends now."

"Well, I can go in for you."

"Yeah? You can set him straight, my baby metalhead. Fuck- didn't even say thank you. Was too busy trying to pretend I wasn't half fucking hard-" You make a soft noise and Eddie blinks, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. How much was it again?"

You press a toe to the top of your other shoe shyly. "Can't I buy you them?"

"Huh?"

"Like a gift?"

Eddie’s face twists. You thought he was just being a gentleman, when he’d paid sneakily on your first date. You know now that’s only part of it. He likes driving you places but won’t accept gas money, likes making you dinner at his home but won’t let you pay for groceries when you tag along on errands. The only thing he doesn’t get twitchy about is your baking, but that’s because you’re there eating them too. You think this might further influence from Wayne; a certain pride, a refusal to accept anything monetary from you.

"But, sweet thing-"

"Please, Eddie?"

He watches you, conflicting emotions passing along his expression. "Okay. But you’re picking out a book. A real fancy one. I wanna see leather binding yeah? And one of those little ribbons attached, okay?"

Your toes curl, nodding happily. "Okay."

You feel more at home as you walk through a glass door to the smell of old paper and ink.

Joan Baez croons from the record player in the corner. The woman at the register nods as you enter but offers no other greeting. Eddie follows after you when you make a beeline to the poetry section; full of battered, well loved books with cracked spines and fading covers.

You send Eddie a shy look, spine prickling from being watched in what feels like a solitary activity. You rub your thumb at a dusty shelf, wondering how to tell him, when he leans in a little. "Hey, you’ve been taking all my music recommendations. Anything for me to read?”

“Oh,” you say, mind lighting up before dimming at the thought of being too pushy, or recommending something he might hate. “I don’t know.”

“C’mon,” he says, leaning in more until he's all you can see, tilting his head until you’re looking into his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

You chew the inside of your lip. “Mm. Maybe- Have you ever read The Metamorphosis?”

Eddie leans back, shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Can’t say I have.”

“I think,” you consider it again. “I think you’d like it. It’s about, well- A man turns into…an insect.” You simmer over the fact you want to share, let yourself believe that Eddie will be as willing as always to hear it. “It was written in German, and the word for what he turns into literally translates to, like, an animal you can’t sacrifice. Like, vermin?” Eddie’s watching you round off this information in a rush, smiling a little. “Kafka, the writer, didn’t want the actual animal to be specific. But sometimes it’s mistranslated and people say he turns into a beetle, or…or a cockroach,” you trail off, cringing at the sound of yourself. “I’m not selling it very well.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he answers. “Sounds suitably weird. Kafka, you said? I’ll get searching.”

Eddie disappears round the corner, leaving you to comfortable contemplation of the poetry selection. Rilke's entire works, some Wilde, some Shelley. You search for something new and land on a name you've never heard. Drawing it from the shelf, you peer at the cover, a silhouette of a bridge bathed in orange, with the Selected Poems by Marina Tsvetaeva printed above.

You read a couple of the shorter poems, struck by her voice, her imagery. Turning to a random page, see the original Russian on one side, the English translation on the other. The title, asking the question, Where Does Such Tenderness Come From? Your heart pangs in recognition of her feelings as you read, the best part of poetry always finding yourself reflected back at you.

You and your eyelashes - she writes. Longer than anyone’s, as if she knows about the eyes you wish you had the confidence to stare into without respite.

“Found anything?”

You jump, closing the book quickly as if you’d been reading something illicit. Eddie gives you a quick up and down look, keeping his distance until your shoulders drop their tension. “Yes,” you say, turning the book so he can see the cover. “I’d never even heard of her but I like her already.”

“Enough to kick poor Rainer off the top spot?”

You feel that strange warmth that comes with being known, the little reminder of things that Eddie has learned and remembered about you. “Not quite, but I’ll still give her a chance.” You glance down at the book in Eddie’s hands, glad to see he’s grabbed your recommendation. “You like it?”

“Seems weird as fuck,” he confirms matter of factly. “So it’s almost like I’m contractually obliged to read it, you know?”

He pulls the new book gently from your hands, retrieving his chained wallet from his back pocket. "My turn," he says with an unusual seriousness. “You want any others?”

You shake your head, lean up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, surrounded and sheltered as you are by shelves and books. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Nah,” he says, face a soft pink.

Later, when Eddie has followed you perusing shop windows, and you are full up on drive through fries, eaten in the front of Eddie’s van as you listened to his story of negotiating $20 of payment between his entire band for their nights playing at the Hideout, Eddie drives you back, glancing over at you every so often like he wants to say something, but turning his head back to the road every time instead.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You feel relaxed, content, sitting comfy on the couch outside of Eddie’s trailer. He popped his head in earlier and found Wayne still sleeping, so you settled here to read in companionable silence. You, discovering more of Marina’s voice, drifting back again and again to the one poem that makes your chest full.

Eddie lies with his head resting on your lap, flicking through the short novella. You play with his hair throughout, curling locks around your fingers and stroking his fringe back from his forehead. Occasionally, you glance down at him, taking in his furrowed brow and eyes shining wet at a couple moments.

“Well, that was fucked up!” Eddie cries, snapping the book shut and somehow managing to whisper a yell. “He just dies? And they don’t care?”

You close your book to focus on him, resting it next to you. You let your fingers tangle into his hair, scratching softly. Eddie, even in his indignation, tilts his head towards the satisfying feeling like a cat. “Mm. That’s the point. He was living his life for his family, but they didn’t really care about him.”

“Yeah, but there’s not caring about someone and there’s hurtling fruit at them,” he reasons. “That Kafka guy had issues, I can’t be the only one who’s noticed.”

You crack a shy smile. “I think he’s brilliant.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie’s dimples tease you. “You’re a freak.”

Your stomach flips at the affection in his voice, fingers stilling in his hair for a second before resuming their gentle caress.

It hits you then, watching Eddie's pretty face, that you’re going to be alone with him again through the night, without interruption, and your throat lumps. As if he realises at the same time, Eddie sits up, hair still at angles from your exploring hands. His mouth opens, then closes again, his eyes flicking from your face to your hands where you’ve started fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

Forcing yourself to take on his example, you ask, “what are you thinking, Eddie?”

“Big question,” he says. “But uh, I guess, I never thought…I never thought sex was that important, you know? Hell, I lost my virginity in the bathrooms at the Emerson Theatre.” His eyes scrunch closed as soon as he says it, like he regrets letting that particular detail slip right now. When one opens, and finds you smiling at him encouragingly, he sighs with his whole body. “And, I hope you know that it wouldn’t matter to me if you had been with somebody else,” he continues, eyes wide. “Like, at all. But at the same time, I’m happy I’m first, you know? Cause I know I can look after you. I can give you what you deserve. Which, again, technically should be a big fancy bed and linen sheets, but some people have absolutely no patience, so-”

“Eddie,” you groan. But it has no bite. You’re already smiling at him, grabbing at his palm to play with his fingers, heart full.

He clears his throat. “So yeah, that’s what I’m thinking about. Also seeing you naked, obviously. But that takes up a good 30% of my brain pretty much all the time so it’s not entirely relevant here.”

“You’re so annoying,” you laugh, watching him clutch his chest in mock hurt.

“I just bared my soul to you!” He cries, watching your giggles incredulously. “Do’st thou mock me? Have you no heart, woman?”

You bury the rest of your laughter in his neck, feeling a kind of dizzy happiness that makes it hard to stop. Eddie’s chest shaking under your cheek tells you that he’s as affected, a hand coming up to stroke at your hair as the mirth fades. Turning to look at where your hands have started up playing with his fingers again, you think about what you want to say.

“Eddie,” you whisper, pulling from his neck, looking between his eyes and his forehead as you search for the bravery he has in spades, the ease to tell him that it always had to be him.

Only, the front door of the trailer opens, revealing a sleepy looking, shirtless, Wayne.

“Oh, Jesus, have some decorum, man!” Eddie yells, covering your eyes with his hand.

“Evenin’, Eddie,” he says, followed by your own name. You wave, blinking to Eddie’s palm. “Get everything you wanted?”

“Yup, sweet girl bought me my very own Metal Heart,” he grins, tapping the album where it sits at his side on the couch as you wrestle his arm away. “Sleep well?”

“As good as I can.” He answers earnestly. “Just makin’ coffee then I’ll hit the road. You want anything?”

"I want you to put some clothes on!"

“No, thank you,” you answer over him, shaking your head and leaning into Eddie’s arm. When Wayne's gone, you glance up, find those soft eyes, those long dark eyelashes. Longer than anyone's.

"What are you thinking?"

You answer honestly. "That you're gonna look after me."

"I will," he nods, sounding almost stern. "As long as you want me to."

You wish it was easy to say, but all you can do is think it.

Always, always, always.

Wayne leaves with a gruff goodbye, a reminder to Eddie that there's left over pasta in the refrigerator. You remember the first time you were here at the same time as Wayne, the almost desperate rush to get into Eddie's room the second he was gone.

Now, you and Eddie stay, settled into one another for a long while after, until the sun has moved from high overhead to just behind the trees in front, turning the scene to a silhouette backlit with orange light. Eddie disappears, comes back with bowls of that pasta. You talk about school, and Eddie's band. He explains more about thrash metal, you tell him your new favourite German word you’d learned only yesterday. When the orange fades to blue-black, Eddie looks over at you.

"Ready?"

You wonder what it means, that despite the increasing thrum of your heart in your chest, you don't even have to think about it. "Yes."

He holds your hand all the way to his room, guiding you through like you don't know how to find his bed at the end. When the door is closed, sheltering you from the world outside, you wrap your arms tight around him, give yourself the comfort of hiding in his collar, feeling the slow rise and fall from his breath.

Eddie hums, his hand coming to that space at the back of your neck that eases everything in your body that you’re used to holding tight. “How you feeling, honey?”

“Good,” you mumble. Then, wondering if he can feel the heavy beat of your heart. “Nervous.”

“Okay,” he says, fingers stroking and squeezing at your tender skin. “What are you nervous about? Anything we can fix?”

You let that thought sit. You are still learning how much Eddie means it when he says things like that. Still practising the belief that Eddie wants you to share your worries, carry some of the burden for you. The responsibility of trying to shed the weight, the disappointment of knowing some of it just has to be carried.

You’re resigned to telling him, but finding the exact reason for the nerves twisting your stomach takes its own time. With anyone else, you’d be worried about pain, about what happens if you have to stop. These concerns float away on their own at the feeling of Eddie’s hand stroking at you, his lips pressing kisses at your temple. Then you land on it, and press your face deeper against the softness of his shirt.

“I don’t know, I guess- What should I do?” You ask, voice small. “So it’s good for you, too.”

You feel his sigh from the rise in his chest, the shake of his head from the brush of his hair against your cheek.

“Will you look at me?” He asks, waiting for you to tilt your head to find him. “You want the truth?” You nod, chin still tight to his shirt. Eddie’s eyes narrow a touch, leaning down conspiratorially. “It will feel good for me,” he starts, his free hand rubbing at your waist. “If we can get your pussy all soft, first.” A surprised throb between your legs has you clenching down on nothing, close to whimpering at the gentle roughness of Eddie’s voice. “All soft, and wet enough that I can just slide in, fill you up easy. Making you cum on my cock, sweet thing. That’s what’ll feel good, for me.” Eddie gives you a wolfish grin as he starts walking you backwards towards his bed, raising his eyebrows in question. “Think we can do that?”

It’s easy, then. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Mm, my good girl,” he says, holding you with the backs of your knees pressed to the side of his mattress, his nose at your temple. “Can I kiss you?”

Even easier. “Yes, Eddie.”

His lips press soft across your cheek and down to your mouth, warm and waiting for him. He's gentle with you, none of the fierceness you've felt in Eddie's kisses more recently. Like he's restraining himself, learning how you like to be touched in the lead up to something new. Your hands find his shoulders, soft cotton of his shirt, and rub at the fabric. His tongue flicks subtly against your bottom lip, but you're already desperate to taste him for real, letting him press deeper without any more prompting.

You feel it at the sound of his laugh, the sudden curve of his lips, the huff of air from his nose against your cheek. The addictive high of showing Eddie how shameless he makes you, the knowledge that he sees you as you are. Not a wallflower here, or a naïve girl. Not an ingénue, to be taken advantage of, or protected from corruption.

With Eddie, you can be as you are. Inexperienced and desperate in equal measure, as nervous as you are sure.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes, pulling away only to blink down at you for a couple seconds before he captures your mouth again, tongue pressing to yours, hot and wet. You whine slowly, rising in volume, your fingers clasping at him. "S'alright," he soothes, giving you another press to your pout. His hand rubs at the back of your neck, encouraging you to lean your head into his support, give him space to leave plush kisses down the side of your throat.

"Eddie," you whisper, softer than you'd expected. Not a moan, or even a plea for more. Just to say it, to feel the shape of his name in your mouth again.

"So sweet," Eddie says, voice a wonderful vibration against your sensitive neck. "Sweetest girl I've ever seen- fuck. Can I?" His hands tug at the hem of your sweater and you nod desperately, helping him pull it off over your head. His lips return to your skin the second the material is on the floor, a wet press down to the softness of your chest. You feel his smile, his excited breath. He sucks, pulls at your flesh until it aches and you squirm. “Mm,” he sighs. “Can’t help it. Wanna mark you up-”

Gentle hands peel your bra from your chest, the tenderness vanishing with his tongue finding the pert bud of your nipple, treating the sensitive peak to wet warmth and friction that has your toes curling. The quick scrape of teeth makes you bat at Eddie's shoulder even as your body tilts to follow his mouth when it retreats.

He gives the other similar treatment, groaning when your fingers drift upwards to tug at his hair. Another little squeak at the graze of his teeth and he’s pulling away to look at you. Your heart jumps at the sight of him, hair mussed from burying himself into your skin, face a light pink, lips wet and kissed dark. The way his eyes flick about you, you’re sure you must be in a similar state.

Eddie’s throat bobs. “Wanna sit up on the bed, there?”

You nod, letting him help you up to the mattress and stand between your swinging legs.

“Need to go over something else, before we really get started,” he tells you, walking you back to sit on the bed, legs swinging off the side. Eddie drops to his knees to take your ankle in hand and pull at your laces. He sets your sneakers to the side, pings your socks over after them. He presses tickling kisses up your calves, eyes all bright when you laugh and kick at him slightly.

Once he’s back at your height, his hands move to your waistband, thumbing at the button of your shorts. “You know that any time you wanna stop, you just say, okay? I mean it, sweet thing.” He pops the button, pulls at the zip. When his hands smooth under the denim to your hips, helping pull them down, he continues. “Doesn’t matter when. Even if I’m making this face-” He scrunches his nose up and lets his tongue hang out in a gross approximation of his expression when he cums and you can’t help but cover your eyes at the image. “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not what you look like!”

“That’s right, you’re the expert now, huh? This better?” He asks, stretching his lips flat and crossing his eyes.

“Stoh-op!” You cry, somewhere between giggly and mortified. Eddie’s face settles back into its regular pretty softness, all shining amused eyes and laugh lines.

“That’s exactly what you say to me if you want me to, mm? Or slow down or anything else you want, okay?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “Will you,” you swallow, playing with the neckline of his shirt. “Can you keep talking to me? While…”

“You say that like I'm gonna be able to stop talking. Hips up, sweetheart,” he says, helping you lie back so he can pull at your shorts. “Nah,” he breathes, hands disappearing to drag his shirt over his head. “You’ll be sick of my voice by tomorrow.”

Eddie helps you shuffle up the bed, your head falling easy to the good pillow.

“Never,” you tell him, arms opening to pull him in. He finds your mouth again, kisses a little more desperate, already a touch breathless. Your fingers brush at the back of his hair, soft curls between his shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hand dances over the soft skin of your stomach, pulling giggles from you when he hits ticklish spots. His fingers edge at the frilled waistband of your panties, waiting for your hips to tilt towards him to dip inside.

“Oh, honey,” he says with a gentle pout, fingers meeting the hot wet warmth between your legs. “Should’ve told me you were feelin’ desperate.”

Your thighs twitch at the first gentle circle around your clit. Eddie’s thick fingers, the roughness at their ends that catches the sensitive bud so perfectly with each little rub. Already your mind feels light with pleasure, body sinking into the bliss of being touched by Eddie. You’re caught between watching his hand where it disappears, the impression of his knuckles moving under blue cotton, and pulling up the courage to stare back at Eddie as he scans every twitch of your face. He grins at you when you manage to turn to him, licking his lips quickly. The little peek of his tongue, the memory of all the ways it makes you weak for him, has your legs kicking and twitching.

“Feels good, yeah?” He asks, eyes flickering to your lips as they open to let out a moan. “Want me to open this pussy up, sweet thing? Get you ready for me?”

You like that, enough that you nod desperately without thinking twice. “Yeah, want- please, Eddie?”

“Jesus,” he huffs a laugh, his fingers easing downwards only to drag slick from your pussy back up to your twitchy clit. “So fucking good, baby. Say please again?”

Your hips tilt up, chasing his hand though he makes no move to deprive you of it. Your whole body feels hot; from his words, his voice, as much as his touch. When you chance a look in Eddie’s eyes, all the warm brown has been swallowed up, leaving his gaze dark and intent on you. You curl your fingers into his shoulder, stare at the pick hanging from his necklace, swaying with the subtle movement of his torso following the pace of his arm. “Please, please, Eddie.”

You make a high noise of protest when his fingers pull away from your bud, shivers running up your spine at Eddie’s patronising coo, the jutting of his plush bottom lip. “Like I said, no patience. Isn’t that right, sweet thing?” He sighs, pushes at your thighs to catch a glimpse of the dark, sodden material between your legs. “Just gotta get these off you, give me space to work, hm?”

Eddie disappears from your side, moving down the bed to sit between your legs. His fingers hook quick into your waistband to pull your panties down your thighs.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, rubbing the wet cotton between his fingers. “Maybe you can be patient. You been wet all day, pretty?” You watch him lean over, hooking your panties over the headboard.

“Eddie,”

He only flashes you a grin, hand strokes at your thigh, fingers digging into the softness to push your leg back. You feel the sticky split of your cunt as it opens up for him, the wave of cool air against your heat.

“Fuck, look at her,” Eddie breathes, dropping down to his front. His wide eyes blink in near fascination, like it’s anything new to him, watching your cunt flex and shine. “You want two?”

You clench down at the thought. “Yeah.”

Eddie hums, nips at the skin of your leg as he drags his fingers through your slick. The first press inside is a good stretch, lacking the edge of pain that comes with three. They sink inside easily with a wet noise that would have you squirming away if you weren’t so fuzzy in the head, so desperate for the pleasure Eddie’s touch promises. The pads of his fingers find the spot at the end of you that he has mapped out, pussy fluttering around his fingers in protest every time they leave to press back in.

“Feels good?” Eddie asks, rubbing his face against your leg. You hum. “You want another?”

“Yeah,” you nod, craving more, wanting everything. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Mm. Open those legs just a little more, baby- yeah, good girl.”

Eddie gives you one final press of his lips to your thigh as he withdraws his fingers, stroking at you again to gather your slick across all three. You feel the blunt ends of his digits at your entrance, the first push and-

“Oh,” you whine, the familiar ache nothing compared to the euphoria of Eddie’s tongue coming to lap at your sensitive clit. Your hands fly down to his hair, clenching around soft curls as if there’s any possibility he might pull away. He groans, sending a pleasant thrum across your nerves. “Eddie, please.”

Your hips twitch when his fingers meet resistance half way deep, but Eddie stops his approach before you have time to register any discomfort. Clenching tight around his half buried fingers, Eddie lathes his tongue, wide and wet, from where his digits disappear inside to the top of your pussy. Your legs kick again, clit throbbing under his attention. He waits patiently for your body to relax into the pleasure, gently pulling his fingers back before pressing even deeper into your supplicating cunt.

“S’good, Eddie,” you whine, thighs pressing at the sides of his head without your wherewithal. All you know is you can feel him everywhere you need him most. His curls in your hands, tickling the sensitive insides of your legs. His tongue on your clit, gentle sucks that feel like kisses. His fingers filling you, stretching you and rubbing just right at the top wall of your cunt to send tingles along your spine. Ecstasy builds everywhere you can feel him, from a aching twitch between your legs to a wave that passes over your entire body.

Eddie’s name escapes you on repeat without shame. You hear him curse, feel the breath of it against your clit, as you squeeze tight around his fingers, pulsing with each peak of the high.

You finally slump into the mattress again, boneless and tingly. You ignore the wet sound produced by Eddie’s hand leaving your pussy, focusing on how he grins at you as he crawls up your body to settle over you, eyes crinkled at the sides with his satisfaction.

“Jesus, you’re so hot,” he laughs, leaning down to plant a breathless kiss to your lips. “Thought your thighs weren’t ever gonna let me up. Started planning a life down there, you know?”

You giggle, but can’t think of anything clever to say back, caught up in the perfect view of Eddie above you. Pink and lightly freckled, lips dark, the entire bottom half of his face shining from looking after you until he drags your slick to his tongue with his thumb. His hair falls forward like a curtain around your faces, tickling your cheeks until you reach up to tuck it back. He leans absent mindedly towards your hand then, enjoying the warmth of your palm.

As you caress Eddie’s face, he gives you a gentle, wide eyed look. “You still wanna?” He asks, a little rushed. “Cause we can stop right here.”

“I want to,” you answer, just above a whisper, but sounding as sure as you ever have done. “If you do.”

“Yeah,” he nods, like he hasn’t quite registered the full meaning. Then, as if he’s taken it in, “yeah. Okay. Okay.”

Eddie climbs off the bed, leaning over his bedside table to search through the drawer, hands emerging with a box labelled TROJAN and a bottle of clear liquid. You watch him fumble a little with the box until it opens, and pull out a square wrapper that has your face feeling hot, as if the presence of condoms is any more illicit that how Eddie has been touching you already.

“Look away!” Eddie jokes when he finds your eyes on him as he pulls at his belt. “Gotta keep my modesty in tact.”

You jokingly cover your eyes, hearing his laughter along with the clink of his belt, his zip pulling open. The mattress dips with Eddie’s return, and you peek through your fingers at him before settling your hands at your sides. Your mind fizzes at the sight of Eddie naked, settled on his knees between your thighs. Your eyes trace all the ink that decorates his torso, the softness of his stomach. The patches of dark hair on his chest, between his legs. His cock is a dark pink, swollen enough that the tip kisses his stomach. Eddie drags a hand over it with a soft groan like he’s been tortured by the wait. If he registers your staring, he doesn’t point it out, focusing on tearing open the foil wrapper and pulling a clear condom down over his length with a sigh.

Your fingers pull at wrinkles in the sheets as Eddie squirts some clear gel from the bottle into his palm, dragging his hand over his cock again to spread it. “What- what’s that?”

“Oh, uh, lube?” Eddie says, throwing the bottle down on the mattress with a bounce. “Makes it easier to, like, move I guess.”

“But-” You’d press your knees together if Eddie weren’t settled between them. “I’m wet.”

Eddie’s eyes flash, lips quirking. “You are, huh?”

“Eddie,”

“Mm. I know, sweet thing. But a little extra never hurt, mm?”

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay,” he answers. “I think it’ll be easiest like this, probably?” He drags the spare pillow from his side, tapping your hips gently to place it under you, tilting your body up to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Eddie. S’good.”

“Okay,” he breathes, shuffling forward. With one hand, he strokes gently at your thigh. The other finds your pussy, his thumb playing with clit until you’re feeling pleasured and loose, settled back onto the bed with fluttering eyes. “Still want this, Princess?”

You stare at him, heart sore as you take in his open expression. You can see the evidence of how desperate he must be, how much he wants this. But he looks at you, and you know he meant it when he said you could stop at any time, that he isn’t expecting anything from you, even now.

This body of yours is used to freezing up, follows a routine of tensing and shaking at questions less serious than this. You breathe, swallow, force yourself to look him in the eye. “I want you, Eddie.”

He watches you, searching for your certainty. You smile, a nervous thing, but real, and he nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna go slow. If it hurts, you say, yeah? Or kick me in the balls - whatever’s easiest.”

You giggle, shaking your head at him, your body feeling loose and relaxed by the time you feel the tip of him catch at your entrance. You make a soft noise at the back of your throat, wanting to watch him but also wanting desperately to keep yourself relaxed and open. You close your eyes, feel the softness of Eddie’s sheets under your fingers.

“Sweet girl,” Eddie murmurs, still circling your clit as the tip of him sinks inside. You feel the aching stretch of him, the pleasant warmth of Eddie’s cock under rubber. He’s saying something, talking to you like he promised, but you’re focused on your breath, on fighting the urge to bear down on him.

He must be a couple inches deep when he stops and pulls back only to press forward again and you think, for a second, you will be able to lay back and take all the pleasure Eddie always gives you, but-

His thumb circles just perfect at your clit and your pussy flutters, the new tightness resisting the slow press of his cock. It’s a sudden, shocking hurt that has your hips flinching to another stab of pain. Before you can help it your body is tensing all over, a soft pained sound escaping your throat.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, voice rough, and that the squeeze of your pussy must feel good doesn’t even register. You can only think that he must be as frustrated with your body as you are. Not in control, but a witness to it falling back into routine, pulling taught even as Eddie starts hushing softly. The more you tense, the tighter you feel, the pleasant ache of him pushing inside quickly turning to a stinging stretch that has you clenching fists in the sheets, tears springing to your eyes.

Eddie pulls out from you, and your chest throbs.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, wanting to close your legs and hide away from him.

Eddie’s warmth doesn’t vanish as you fear. In fact it grows as he leans over you, an arm coming to circle your waist. You feel his free hand at your hair, stroking it back from your face. “Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, his breath a gentle caress against your cheek. “You’re in that head, mm? C’mon out.”

The tears that had been bubbling under your eyelids spring free when you open them, tracking down your cheeks as Eddie shakes his head. He wipes each of them away with his thumb until they stop coming. “Sweet thing,” he breathes. “It hurt, and you needed to stop. It’s okay.”

His thumb strokes over your cheek again and you lean into it, resting your palm at the back of his hand as you sigh. Your fingers weave with his, everything better now that you can touch him, now that you can’t run away into your head away from his voice, so close to you.

“Wanna get dressed? We can watch something, mm?”

You shake your head immediately, feeling determined. “Can we try again?”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to, Eddie.” You assure, hoping he believes you. You rub your cheek into his palm again. “But, can we stay like this?”

There’s a pause as Eddie blinks at you, then his mouth turns up. “Wanna change tactics, huh, Princess?” You nod, watching as he pulls away briefly to help pull the pillow out from under your hips, his hands pressing at your thighs so he can settle properly between them. You whine softly at the feeling of him, still hard and pulsing, between your legs.

Eddie comes back to you with a kiss, lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, get your fingers pressed to his warm skin, playing with the ends of his hair.

“Forgot who I was dealing with, didn’t I?” He says, rolling his hips so the tip of his cock drags over your twitchy clit. Your toes curl, the ball of your foot stroking a little at the back of Eddie’s calf as your legs curl round him. “My girl needs to touch me all over, huh?”

Eddie grins down at you, wiggles his hips just to hear you gasp at the friction of your clit, feel the way your digits dig at him, your right hand rubbing at a lock of his hair. Tension pours from your body at the weight of him all over you, the chance to watch Eddie’s joy at touching you, the pleasure he feels in tandem with yours at every roll of his hips..

He kisses you again, then both your cheeks and your nose and chin, peppers them in quick succession across your neck to get you giggly and soft. When he emerges, you watch each other. Eddie’s gaze flicks about your face while you count down the checklist of your favourite features; dimples and quirked lips, wrinkles at the sides of his eyes and laugh lines.

“Again?” He asks, one hand moving from your thigh to grasp his cock between you. You nod, press your digits into Eddie’s shoulder as his tip opens you up.

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes through the first slow thrust, voice clear as day now he’s so close. “You’re so good, baby.”

Pleasant shivers run through you at the praise. When the stretch makes your body pull taught, your fingers press at Eddie’s skin, letting him feel your need to slow. When the sound of his shaking breath, the sight of his eyes fluttering at the tightness of your cunt around him, has you excited and pliant again, your fingers playing at the ends of his hair tell him that he can start moving once more. Eddie pulls back each time before pressing deeper, humming you through each new tender stretch until you feel the wiry hair above his cock tease your clit. Your hips tilt, chasing the delicious rub, and you feel Eddie’s cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, face dropping into your neck to groan. “How’s it feel?”

Your cunt flutters at the strain in his voice. This time, rather than sending warnings across your body at an unpleasant sting, your pussy bearing down aggravates a dull throb. Like pushing on a sore tooth, it’s painful and addictive all at once, clenching down again for the satisfying feeling of Eddie’s cock twitching inside you, the sound of him groaning against your skin.

“Good, Eddie,” you say honestly, fingers stroking through his hair. “Will you- can you move?”

“Yeah- fuck,” he nods into your neck, laughing softly. “Just gimme onnnnne second. Jesus. ‘How do I make it good for you?’ She asks, with heaven between her legs.”

Your body shakes as both of you giggle together, cut off by another whimpering moan from Eddie. “Aw, shit, don’t laugh or I’m really gonna embarrass myself.”

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with his chin at your collar. His hips pull back, relieving your pussy of the ache until he slides forward again, letting you feel full, the weight and warmth of him inside you. It’s different than his fingers, which map out the best spots and play with them. Eddie’s cock, thick and heavy, drags along all of them at once.

His face is so close by yours, watching desperately for every sign of pleasure, any hint of discomfort. You open your mouth to reassure him, but all that escapes is a soft, pleased sound that makes his hips stutter.

“Feels good?” Eddie gasps, nodding like he wants to encourage you to agree.

“Yeah, s’good,”

“Fuck,” he says. “You’re gonna want this all the time now, yeah? Need your pretty cunt full of me?”

Pleasant tingles of shame dart up your spine, and one of Eddie’s hands slips between your bodies to rub at your clit again.

“Yeah? Say it, sweet thing.” He groans, hips stuttering at a clench of your cunt around him.

“Like being full of you, Eddie,” you whine, fingers tightening in his hair. “Want it all the time.”

“Jesus- Christ, you’re so good,” he breathes, his fingers bullying your sodden clit. The ache of his cock falls away in comparison to the onslaught of stimulation there, leaving only the satisfying resistance to your cunt clenching down, the sweet fullness, the friction against your sensitive walls. “You’re so good, letting me hear you. Your pretty voice- fuck. Just for me. Think you can cum?”

“Uh huh,”

“Yeah? Like this? Just like this?”

You nod desperately, hips twitching towards him. Chasing the rub of his fingers, the feeling of being stretched full when he presses deep, the throb of his cock inside.

“You cumming, sweet thing?” He asks, as if he can’t see the flutter of your eyes, feel your body clasp around him. “Yeah? Holy-”

Your high is a gentle thing, compared to what you felt with Eddie’s fingers and tongue. A quick rise and fall focused at the top of your cunt that shifts quickly into the numbness of overstimulation. The lasting ache is too present for anything more, but it feels like a promise, a hint of how good it can be with Eddie, if you do this with him again.

You feel boneless and tired while he finds his pleasure, staring down at your warm, satisfied face as he groans. You can feel him inside, the twitch of his cock as he groans, the sudden warmth behind rubber.

His body half collapses on yours, sweat slick skin sticking together. You wrap yourself around him, foot stroking at his calf, hands scratching at the back of his scalp while he tries to catch his breath against your neck. You can feel the pound of his heart where your chests press together, know he must feel yours. When they slow in tandem, beating together, you find Eddie’s wide, soft eyes.

“That-” his voice cracks, his throat clears. “Was that okay?” When you nod, offering a tired smile, he strokes some of your hair back. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” He says, waiting for you to nod again.

You take a shaky breath as Eddie’s softening cock pulls from you, stealing all the soothing warmth inside and leaving you with a sensitive, fluttering pussy. You whimper softly at the tender feeling. “I know,” he breathes. “I know, sweet girl. Gimme one second.”

Shivers run up your spine when Eddie disappears briefly to deal with the condom, a little prickle of something unpleasant at your neck. You’re only starting to replay everything you just did and said that might be shameful, embarrassing, in your head when he returns. Eddie wipes warm damp cloth between your legs. He smooths away the uncomfortable, cooling stickiness. Predictably, he tosses the cloth over his shoulder to fall back into bed and pull you into his chest. There, with his arms tight around you, his adoring gaze set on you, any shame your mind could convince you to feel falls away. Why would you dwell on it, when you can let yourself feel all the warmth Eddie brings?

You lie together for a few minutes, tracing Eddie’s tattoos. Over and over, you drag your pointer finger over the lines forming CORRODED COFFIN under his ribs, letters on Eddie’s skin.

“Thank you,” you murmur eventually, watching Eddie’s eyebrows pull together. You kiss his chest. “I’m glad it was you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, voice breaking a little at your immediate nod. “Well, uh, thank you for trusting me, sweetheart.”

You lie together until the sweat on your bodies is cool and sticky. When the first shiver runs up your body, Eddie helps you stand from the bed like he expects you to be walking like a new-born deer. You manage into the bathroom by yourself, emerge washed and clad in cosy pyjamas, his soft hoodie. Eddie takes his turn, and returns to bed with steamed warm pink skin and dripping hair that sprinkles droplets on your face when he shakes it out like a dog.

You drift asleep with Eddie’s breath at your ear, his fingers stroking steady at your waist.

You wake the next morning to that same sunlight through blinds, the same dog barking in the distance. If it weren’t for the new ache between your legs, you might have thought you’d dreamt the entire perfect day, woken up to find it was Saturday again.

You turn yourself over to Eddie’s side, find his long bare back, pale and dusted with freckles. In a second, you’ll curl yourself around him, wrap an arm over his torso so he can wake up feeling something like the way you feel when he holds you.

But now, your rapid pulse pounds in your ears. Even as he sleeps, your body won't allow you to say it, or even whisper it. Your throat closes up with the thought of too much, too soon.

But you ache to do something, to let the feeling out somehow. Caught between your throbbing heart and the worries that have kept you quiet your whole life, you shuffle forward, reach out, and draw eight letters, one after the other, on the soft skin of Eddie’s shoulder.

I L O V E Y O U

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

Next Part

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x shy!reader

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midnight-black2 · 12 days

Note

UAAHHSHWHEBW FINALLY SOMEONE WRITING FOR DOM READER😭

anyway can u write anything about Kai please 🥹 (I always thought he would be a perfect sub lol)

-𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒

pairing : kai (from voyagers) x reader

synopsis : kai needs to be put in his place, and who better to do it than you?

disclaimers : sub!kai, dom!reader, degradation, handjob, masochist!kai (only a little), mean!reader, kinda fast pace (sorry)

note : i had to watch voyagers to make this, but it was so worth it because like why is kai so fine?? like he's an asshole, but a hot one. anyways, hope you like this !

kai had been acting like an ass-kissing, cock-sucking dickwad ever since richard died.

for some context, he sucked up to zach, the person you hated most out of the entire crew. he would laugh at all of zach's rather rude jokes, they would walk through the ship halls together, standing tall with unnecessary pride as if they were God or something. you weren't quite sure what was happening, but you knew it had to do with the blue.

kai was a smart, sweet boy. but that was before. he would cross his legs at the table, speak with manners, he would even service others at times, especially you. whether it was making a plate for you (he seemed to always know what you wanted to eat), or carrying heavy things for you. but that was before. all of it was before. before everyone stopped taking the blue. before richard died. before you all needed a new group leader.

it all went to shit.

every single little thing. there was no in between, you either followed all the rules, or broke all of them. you believed in balance, it was the only thing that keeps people sane, yet there was none. you had been going crazy for weeks. with all of the noise, the ferocity, the smell of sweat and sex, everything was so overbearing, and nobody did anything about it. so when kai got hit in the head as a result of a fight and there was a meeting called over it, you were fed up. blue got rid of the emotions, and now that there wasn't any blue, and the emotions were getting in the way of everything.

"i for one don't know if there is an alien," the girl spoke. you didn't know her name, all you knew was that she was constantly doing the right thing. she was a little boring, but you didn't hate her or anything. her eyes were lowered, not daring to look zach or christopher in the eye.

"who cares what you don't know," zach spoke, annoyedly. you clenched your jaw, couldn't he just let the girl speak?

"if we repair the damage we can watch the surveillance video and-" she was cut off by zach.

"shut your fat, puss-filled face," you scoffed. how low, even for him. you saw the way kai snickered, you felt like slapping the two of them then and there. you pinched kai's right thigh, giving him a look of warning. he looked over to you, he gulped, yet rolled his eyes anyway.

"i have a right to talk," she responded, finally looking zach in the eye.

"you talk enough as it is, you bloated wheezing blister," he countered, with a smirk. everyone started laughing, including kai. you felt your blood boil. she was only trying to make a point.

"zach, she can talk," christopher interfered.

"you shut up too," zach muttered. he went on, and it escalated. it almost ended in the same way the fight ended last time. it was all a blur--everyone split up. kai and half of the others followed behind zach. you had it with him. you gripped his arm harshly. you pulled him down the hall, luckily no one noticed the two of you leave.

"y/n," kai called, brows furrowed, he was a bit angry. "y/n, what are you doing?"

"shut up," you ordered, through gritted teeth. he quickly complied, his breath hitched. you went inside an empty sleeping quarter, shutting and locking the door.

"you've been such a fucking brat lately, kai,"

"y-you can't do anything about it," he replied, stuttering, voice shaky. he knew damn well you could. you had this odd sort of control over him he couldn't quite understand. with the snap of your fingers he would be on his knees, consciously or not.

"yeah? watch me," you challenged. you crossed your arms over your chest, your patience was growing thin. "strip."

"w-what?" he was shaking slightly, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

"you heard me, strip." he listened. it seemed an ounce of obedience was still left in him--only for you, though. he started with his shirt, pulling it over his head. he was lean, toned. you couldn't help but stare, you would've smirked if you weren't so frustrated. he felt your eyes, they were gaping burning holes all over into his body.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down, leaving him in only his boxers. you walk over to him, and grip his raging hard-on.

"all you do anymore is think with your stupid cock," you spit out, looking him right in the eye. he let out a soft whimper. you swiftly backed him up against the nearest wall. you were surely manhandling him, but who was he to tell you not to? you pulled down his boxers, and they sat at his feet. he breathing picked up.

it was embarrassing, to say the least. he was naked and you were completely clothed. he felt so vulnerable, but it was even more embarrassing that he liked it. your hand wrapped around his cock, you squeezed quite harshly. you had forgotten how big he was, probably a good 8.5" when hard.

"fuck, y/n," kai groaned. did it hurt? yes. did it only enhance his pleasure? also yes.

"seriously kai? you get in a fight over a girl. you get hit in the head with a metal rod, yet you're over here whimpering like a bitch when i simply squeeze your dick? a little pathetic," you utter, a brow arched.

"please," he let out, subconsciously. he cursed himself internally, he knew you would only be harsher on him now.

"please what, kai? please fucking what? i don't feel like giving you shit. you take what i give you," you responded. you brought your fingers to his mouth, thumb prodding at his lips. "open."

he did as he was told, and allowed your fingers to explore his mouth. you pushed them as deep as they'd go before he gagged softly. he shut his eyes. as humiliated as he felt, your fingers were quite warm. you took them out, and he sort of disliked the absence of you digging around in his mouth. god, he thought he was so weird.

your hand returned to his cock, wrapping around it and pumping up and down quickly, without warning. he cried out, gripping your shoulder.

"goodness, look at you. wish someone would walk in right now. hear the way you moan and whine weakly. they'd figure out so quickly you're not quite as high and mighty as you make yourself out to be," you chuckle, looking at him writhe. although he was taller than you, it still felt as though he were underneath you.

"s-shit, y/n," he moaned, hips bucking. your free hand gripped his waist, keeping it pinned to the wall.

"stay still." you instructed, your hand on his cock speeding up a bit. kai's knees buckled, he felt his mind was mush, he was shaky and all thoughts of you consumed him.

"fuck y/n, i think im gonna cum," kai warned, opening his eyes to take a peek at you. he couldn't handle it. the way you looked so angry, so ready to snap him in half. if he kept looking at you, he would surely cum right that second.

"already? that's a little sad, don't you think?" you teased, hand on his waist making its way up his chest. you pinch his left nipple harshly, and he whimpers once again.

"oh my god," he moans. you could feel his entire body shaking and jolting with every move you made. "can i?"

"cum? i don't know. why should i even let you?" you asked, only wanting to hear him beg.

"please. fuck, please let me cum. i need to i really need to. i'm sorry! i'll-ill keep my mouth shut when you want me to," kai pleaded. you, at last, gave in.

"go ahead, cum," you said. he let go with a loud moan, anyone directly outside the door could probably hear. you moved to the side just in time so his mess wouldn't touch you.

"o-oh, fuck," he panted, sliding down the wall, sitting on the floor. you kneeled, your hand placed on his cheek.

"you learn your lesson?" you asked, smirking complacently.

"maybe." you rolled your eyes at his response, but couldn't help the smile that followed.

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#dom!reader #dom reader #kai voyagers #kai x reader #voyagers #archie madekwe #smut

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wysteria-bloom · 5 months

Text

rhythm of your heart -

dainsleif x f!reader

Warnings - none!

Genre - fluff

A/n - the way this man has an IRON GRIP around my heart. I take requests! Check my description for rules <3

“ You really don’t have to do this,” Dainsleif droned out for the 20th time that night, wincing as his headache worsened.

[name] gave him a deadpan expression, ceasing her healing for just a moment,” So… what? You want me to let you suffer, is that it? You’re my husband, you realise that right? Or has the erosion finally affected your memory?” She replied simply before she continued to heal him with her hydro vision, concentrated expression replacing her annoyed one.

Dainsleif’s eyebrow twitched at her words,” Uncalled for.” He stated.

” Mhm, no, I don’t believe it was.”

“ You’re rather feisty tonight, aren’t you? Are you perhaps mad at me?” He spoke out sarcastically, already knowing the answer.

[name] scoffed and narrowed her eyes at him,” Wow, no, how’d you guess?” She spat back at him with more sarcasm,” How am I not supposed to be when you ventured somewhere dangerous without me? You’re lucky the traveller was there to bring you to me, y’know?”

He didn’t argue with her, knowing full well she was in the right, swallowing his pride he decided to tell her so,”… You’re right.”

She didn’t respond, but upon seeing her slightly relaxed expression he knew that he had managed to appeal to her slightly.

“Why do you do this?” She sighed out tiredly,” We’re a team, aren’t we? I feel like you’ve only distanced yourself from me.” She spoke honestly, glancing into his beautiful eyes, tapping the side of his face that was covered,” And you barely take this off anymore. You said you trusted me enough to see that side to you… so what happened?”

“ The Abyss.” He replied to her instantly, feeling the guilt well up within him upon hearing her feelings,” I feel like I shouldnt have involved you with the Abyss in the first place… It’s only getting more dangerous every day that passes... I hate putting you at any sort of risk.”

She stared into his eyes with conflicted ones before she sighed once again and gave up on arguing,”… I’m glad you’re safe.” She flushed out reluctantly, looking off to the side stubbornly with furrowed eyebrows,“ just… bring me next time, okay? despite how you express yourself, you can be rather reckless at times.”

Dainsleif’s gaze softened at the endearing expression she had on her face,” Noted.” He nodded to her reassuringly,” Besides, I won‘t be adventuring for a while anyways… Paimon said I should take a vacation.”

[name] chuckled a little,” That’s a word that isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?” She teased him.

He only smiled at her,” That’s what I said to her and the traveller.” He chuckled lightly before staring at her with a soft gaze.

At his stare, [name] decided now would be a good time to kiss him.

Upon seeing her lean forwards to his face, Dainsleif’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he recuperated her actions immediately.

Funny how even after being married to her all of this time, the idea of merely kissing her was still enough to get his heart racing.

The two leaned in and closed their eyes when their lips were close enough.

Ready to share a sweet and tender kiss, time froze for them. There was nobody else in the world they cared about except for eachother at this moment.

But instead of sharing a sweet kiss, the two reeled back in pain, holding their heads with grimaces on their faces.

Yes, they had collided foreheads by accident, and no, this wasnt a random occurrence.

This was something that happened a lot within the many years they’ve been together. Its rather depressing how its become a habit at this point.

”Not againnn…” The woman whined out, rubbing her forehead furiously to get rid of the pain.

“I feel another headache approaching.” Dainsleif stated with his eyes shut tightly in discomfort, a grumpy frown on his lips. But he paused when he felt a soft warmth press to his forehead.

He opened his eyes in alarm but didn’t move away from [name]’s forehead kiss. Comfort spreading through him at the feeling of her soft lips on his skin.

She pulled back and gave him a kind smile,” At least we have matching bruises.”

He rolled his eyes at her words,” How adorable.” and then he pulled her into his lap for a proper kiss.

#genshin x reader #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x y/n #dainsleif x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #fluff #genshin fluff #dainsleif fluff #dainsleif hurry up and be playable already im seriously grasping at straws here </3 #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader fluff #dainsleif x reader fluff

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cozage · 7 months

Text

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 9: And Promises Kept

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Short lil chapter full of angst <3 Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.4k

You rose with the sun, rubbing the sand out of your eyes as you looked around. “Ace?”

Sanji sat on duty by the campfire, cooking breakfast. You walked over to him, looking at each sleeping body as you passed by.

“Where’s Ace?” you asked. Panic began to creep in, but he must’ve just stepped away to use the bathroom. Ace said he wouldn’t leave you. He promised.

Sanji looked up at you, confused. “I haven’t seen him this morning.”

Your eyes grew wide, and you could feel your heart beginning to race. “What do you mean?”

“Oi, Luffy!” he yelled out. “Where’s Ace?”

“Luffy,” you said, bending down and shaking the sleeping boy. “Luffy! Wake up! Where’s Ace?”

You ended up waking everyone in the camp except Luffy. They sat up one by one, watching you scream and shake their captain as panic coursed through your veins. Ace should be here. Even if he had stepped away for a moment, he would’ve told someone. He would’ve come back by now.

“Luffy!” You screamed again. “Where is he?!”

“You have to talk about food,” Usopp offered. “Watch. Luffy! I have some meat I’m about to throw away!”

Luffy’s eyes flew open and he sat up, eagerly looking around. “Meat?! Where?!”

You grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Luffy!” you screamed. “Ace! Where’s Ace!?”

“Huh?” Luffy looked around “But the meat…”

Your grip tightened on him, enraged that he wasn’t answering your one question.

“He left,” Nami finally answered for him.

You paused at her answer, and it took a moment to process her words.

He…left?

With a dark realization, you loosened your grip from Luffy. Your body went slack, and you felt an overwhelming urge to never move again.

“Last night,” Nami said. “He said that you knew he was leaving.”

“Where’d he go?” you whispered, fear pulsing through you. You already knew where he was going.

“He said he was going to get the Striker.” Nami’s voice was somber. You could tell she didn’t believe his words. “And he was going to meet you in Nanohana.”

“No,” you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. “This can’t be happening. He promised.”

“Oh!” Luffy pulled out a transponder snail. It was the kind that was one way, direct line only. You’d only be able to call the person on the other end of this snail. Nobody else.

Luffy held it out for you. “Ace wanted me to give you this.”

You snatched it from his hands, immediately ringing the other side. It only rang once before a voice filled the line.

“Hey.” Ace’s voice was on the other side. It sounded like he hadn’t slept.

“Ace,” you said, taking a breath and trying not to jump to conclusions. “Where are you?”

“On my way to the Island of Geno.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Why?”

“It’ll be okay,” Ace said, and you could hear his voice break. “Stick with Luffy and-”

“You promised!” you screamed. You didn’t care that the Strawhats were watching you, judging how you reacted. “You promised you wouldn’t leave again!”

He didn’t answer for a few moments, and you were afraid he had hung up. But finally he spoke.

“I needed to break that promise to keep another one.” His voice was thick, and you knew he was close to tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Who is more important?” you sobbed, falling to your knees. “Who’s more important than me?”

“I promised your father I’d keep you safe. And I need you safe so I can do my job.”

“That’s not fair,” you choked out. “You don’t get to-”

“Yes I do,” he argued. “I’m your commander.”

“What happened to being equals?” Rage and sorrow filled your bones, mixing and grinding together as it churned inside you. “You said-”

“That was before we found out.”

You were lucky to be wearing your bracelet, or else you would be erupting into flames from the overload of emotions. “So now I’m worth less than I was?!”

“No!” Ace yelled back. “That’s not what I’m saying at all!” He took a breath, and then continued. “I just realized I need to protect you and our future. Just stay with Luffy until-”

You scoffed. “I don’t need protecting. Come get me, Ace.”

“I’m not coming back. I’m sorry.” Ace’s voice was final. He wouldn’t change his mind. Not now, not ever. But you had to try.

“Ace,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “If you leave me here alone, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I have to do this. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“Ace, please-!” The phone line cut out, and the transponder snail began speaking its pre-recorded message.

“We’re sorry, the line has been disconnected. Please move closer to reconnect the snails and begin the call again.”

You screamed out in frustration and threw the snail in the sand. You sat and stared at the snail, slowly inching away from you. Just like Ace had. Your entire life felt pointless and too overwhelming to continue on. So you chose to shut down instead.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Ace had promised to never leave you. And you had trusted him, just for him to take advantage of it.

He was gone, and he wouldn’t be able to defeat Teach without you. He would lose that battle. He always rushed into things too quickly; made decisions without thinking of all the repercussions. And now he was gone.

And you got the sinking feeling you may never speak to him again.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld @aira-needs-sleep @mothmomjay @ophelias-flowerss @aqualein

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

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yelenasdiary · 8 months

Note

“Ever wonder if the world would be better without you…?” With wanda Maximoff x reader pretty please

-🐚

Drunken Thoughts

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: After another one of Tony’s parties and a few drinks later, you found yourself letting a thought slip to your closest friend.

AC: Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy & I also hope it’s okay I made this a platonic fic! X

The night was finally over, another one of Tony's parties with a little too much socializing and pretending to listen to topics that you could care less about. Wanda was sitting on the sofa in the compounds living room when you entered the room finishing off your drink and placing the empty glass in the skin.

"Y/n, come over here" Wanda smiled softly. She noticed over the last few weeks that you've been a little distant and off with everything and she couldn't help but keep a close eye on you. Wandering over to her, you slumped yourself down next to her and placed your head on her shoulder. "What's on your mind?" she asked.

"Nothing" you replied in a soft tone, but Wanda already knew that was a lie and you knew better than to lie to a mind reader.

"Shall we try that again?" Wanda placed a hand on your knee as you sighed. "I don't know…do you ever just, you know?" you spoke. Wanda shook her head, "ever just what?" she questioned.

"Ever wonder if the world would be better without you…?" You looked up at her. Wanda turned to you while you lifted your head off her shoulder, "what's this about?" She asked.

"I just, I don't know…. lately I've been thinking about a world without me and if I'm being honest….it seems the world would be fine. Nothing would change and I'm not sure why I even stay" you explained, letting your built-up thoughts spill. Wanda listened carefully, hurting on the inside knowing that her friend was feeling so low.

"You're wrong about all of that, you know that, right?" She broke the silence, "you mean a lot more to the world than you see. You're apart of this family and every single time you go in a mission, you're changing the world. I know being an Avenger isn't easy and it has its cons but look at the pros. Look at the good we've done, how many people we have saved but most importantly, look at how many people you've saved" she added while looking into your eyes hoping her words were sinking in.

"Yeah, I help save people I've never met before, and I'll never know them. Once upon a time I felt amazing that I was helping people in such a way but now? It's nothing new" you replied with a sigh.

"Did you know that you're the glue that holds all of us together? You're the one who is able to make us smile on the darkest days, the one who lets us know you're always there for us not matter what time or where we are. While you think the world better without, my world would not be better and I can promise you that everybody else would agree with me" Wanda replies with a stern voice that was full of comfort.

Her words took you back for a moment, were you so foolish to actually think that nobody would think twice if you left this earth for the afterlife? Through all the dark thoughts you'd been having, it was near impossible. Every time you thought of something positive the little voice in your head came up with a way to make you believe that the world would be better off without you, that you meant nothing and nobody around you truly cared.

But here you were, sitting in front of your best friend who was on the edge of tears hoping her words got through to you, even if it was just for a moment. You knew leaving her would break her and suddenly you began to think about the others and how Wanda was right, their world would not be better without you. They are your family, the only family you truly knew and as much as you'd been there for them through thick and thin, they were there for you.

Even though your mind told you they didn't care, you didn't see how they made sure you were hydrated and eating, making sure you still went to training and not saying a word if you weren't giving it your all, offering to run small errands for you and still inviting you to things even if they knew you'd say no. The small things they did for you showed you just how much you truly mattered to the team.

Then, suddenly, it hit you, the party Tony threw was for you. A fundraiser to help wildlife in need of serious help. If you had of noticed this detail earlier, maybe you wouldn't have tried to drown your thoughts with the free alcohol that went straight onto Tony's tab.

"I h-honestly didn't think of things like that" you replied, tears of your own filling your eyes. Wanda pulled you in for a tight hug, "I know sweetheart but it's okay. Our thoughts can get the best of us sometimes but you're so much stronger than you think, I wish you'd come to me when things start to get bad. I never want you to feel like you're alone, ever!" She speaks as she rubs your back, letting you cry into her arms.

It was then that you knew that you'd make a change and you knew that your family would always be there for you, no matter what.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #fanfiction #marvel

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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 10 months

Text

It Wasn't Nancy

Full Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Anonymous Request: Can I please ask a Steve x- ex-best friend reader where he gets really sick, like barely conscious, and Y/N takes care of him by staying awake during the nights? But as he wasn't conscious enough, he thinks it was Nancy, and Y/N doesn't tell anyone. Months later, he somehow accidentally finds the truth and I wanna leave the aftermath up to you❤️I don't know if this makes sense, though. You don't have to make it if you don't like it, doesn't matter😊

A/N: I'm a sucker for the friends-to-lovers trope. I feel like that's a majority of the x-readers I write 😂. I also think this is the longest x-reader I have ever made! Thank you for requesting, love!!

Summary: You and Steve were always best friends, but after befriending Carol and Tommy, the two of you fell apart. You miss him every day. Now, your high school career is coming to a close. After attending a party at his house, Steve falls sick the next morning. You decided to stay with Steve, not really wanting to leave him alone because you knew he would never take care of himself.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Hazel -> Your Older Sister

You were involved in the Upside Down stuff.

Warnings:

Long Imagine

Slight Language

Steve Harrington x-reader

(Third Person View)

Relationship break-ups are hard, but so are friendship break-ups. Y/N and Steve had been friends since they were toddlers, so close that they'd take baths with one another. People always say that you significantly change during your high school years, but nobody told Y/N that she'd lose her best friend.

Steve and Y/N met Carol and Tommy during their freshmen year of high school. It seemed harmless to meet the couple, but Y/N slowly noticed changes in Steve. He began ditching their movie and game nights, their study sessions, and overall hanging out. Carol and Tommy were always there, like, always there.

Y/N couldn't take a break from them. And sometimes, that's how Y/N truly felt. Y/N stayed by Steve's side, afraid that if she left, she'd lose him forever. But Y/N would lose him no matter what. Steve knew that he wasn't hanging out with Y/N as much.

During their Junior year, Steve wanted to say something, but of course, he was tied up with his new popularity level. So much that it clouded his vision. He thought about telling Y/N so many times but didn't know the right way to say it. And Y/N thought about confronting him but also didn't know how to say it.

And, now, it was their senior year. The two hadn't spoken since freshmen year, other than being project or lab partners. Thankfully, they were on better terms. A lot of people noticed Steve changed, not just them but Y/N.

She saw how much he grew to care about his grades, the way he spoke to people, and who he associated himself with. Even though Y/N wanted to talk to him, there was still some inkling in her that believed he didn't want to talk to her. She knew it was stupid to think that because Y/N understood that Steve liked her.

They knew too much about each other to know they couldn't last long without one another. But, they haven't spoken since the fall, so I guess that belief was proven wrong. Since it was their senior year, it seemed like everyone was having an end-of-the-year party.

And Steve was just one of those students. He hadn't thrown a party since freshmen year but decided that it might be nice to host one. Here Y/N was, standing in the middle of her room, trying to decide what to wear. Hazel, Y/N's older sister, and Nancy sat on Y/N's bed.

"What do you think about this one?" Y/N asked. She held up a purple skirt matched with a white blouse with a few ruffles on the hem. Nancy tilted her head at the outfit her friend held up. "Try it with a different top," she said. Y/N nodded and fished around her closet for a grey button-down.

She turned back around to her sister and friend. Hazel grinned, giving Y/N a wide smile and two thumbs up. "Much better," she said. Y/N thanked her, setting the outfit onto her dresser. Nancy went back to look through some magazines Hazel brought in. "Haze, you wanna come with us?" Nancy offered.

Nancy looked up from the magazine to see Hazel's answer. "I would, but I think it would be weird if a twenty-two-year-old came to a party full of eighteen-year-olds," Hazel said. "True," Nancy nodded. Even though Nancy was an underclassman, she knew a couple seniors, including Y/N and Steve, which granted her access to his party.

Y/N chuckled and went into her bathroom to get changed. Hazel left a few minutes after Y/N changed. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Nancy asked as Y/N stepped back into her room. "Sure," Y/N replied.

She dropped her clothes into the laundry basket. Nancy sighed and sat on the edge of the bed with her hands sitting beside her. "Why haven't you talked with Steve since, like, forever?" Nancy asked.

Y/N looked at her, not expecting the question. She sighed and played with the thread on her skirt. "I don't know. The right moment hasn't come up," she shrugged. Nancy's brows furrowed in response. She smiled softly. "The right moment? Y/N, you practically live in the right moment," Nancy said, "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't tell him when we were dealing with Dart and his friends."

"Because I was mainly focusing on saving my ass and everyone else," Y/N remarked. She didn't like to admit it to herself. But Y/N felt something when she began talking to Steve again. The two were with Dustin and his friends at the junkyard leading up to the encounter with Billy at the Byers.

You'd think that they would talk after, but it wasn't like that. They were talking more than they had before. Both Steve and Y/N knew there was still some growing to do, but maybe they could grow together? "I thought about it, believe me," Y/N sighed, "I mean, what if he doesn't want to talk to me?"

Nancy was taken aback by Y/N's statement. Nancy was aware that Steve wanted to talk to her. She had spoken with him about it that night at the Byers. Nancy withheld from saying anything because she felt that Steve and Y/N needed to be the ones to say it. "You'd be surprised, Y/N/N," Nancy said.

________

(Y/N's Point of View - Steve's Party)

"Stop pulling at your skirt. It looks fine," Nancy said, shutting the car door. I shot her a look and dropped my hands. She playfully rolled her eyes, locking the car. I guess I should've known that Steve's house would be crowded with people. "Why'd you make me wear it?" I asked, fixing the bow on the side.

Nancy looked back at me with raised brows. She rolled her eyes and continued walking. "Because the color looks great on you, and you needed to wear something else besides jeans," Nancy said. She fixes the strap of her purse, motioning for me to walk beside her. "But jeans are great," I said.

She chuckled. Nancy opened the door, letting out a billion different sounds. The two of us walked into Steve's house and looked for our friends. "I'll be right back," Nancy said. "No, wait. Nance," I called after her but wasn't successful. She was already halfway through the crowd by the time I wanted to follow her.

I decided to make my way over to the kitchen. Given I knew this house like the back of my hand, I knew where Steve kept the drinks other than alcohol. There were a few people crowding around the island. I pushed past them, reaching for the bottom shelf of the fridge.

People walked past me, trying to get to the other side of the kitchen. I shivered when I held the non-spiked lemonade. Nancy was still nowhere to be found. I loved her, but she had a habit of leaving me at parties.

Being the best person she is, she profusely apologizes. After a few seconds of standing there, I walked over to the porch outside. I sat down at a table with the drink. "Nice skirt," someone said. My shoulders dropped when I saw Carol standing there.

She stood there with a smirk on her face. I hadn't spoken to her since Freshmen year. On top of that, I practically ignored her in the halls. I was kind of impressed that I managed to 'forget' about her. But nobody could forget Carol. Her personality controlled that.

"May I sit? My legs are killing me from all that dancing," she chuckled. Without waiting for my response, she sat down. Carol leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs, straightening the hem of her dress. She looked at me, trailing her eyes at my outfit. "You know, you look different," Carol commented.

I looked at her with raised brows, regretting sitting down outside. I scanned the crowd of partygoers once more but, yet again, couldn't find Nancy. "Thanks," I replied. She took a sip of her drink.

I wished Steve would come over and somehow save me, but he was probably preoccupied with other guests. "So, how have you been?" Carol asked. My expression changed to a questionable tone. Never in my life did I think Carol Perkins would be nice to me, let alone tolerable. "I've been good," I replied.

"You must be so happy that school is over. I know I am," Carol said. She paused her sentence to take another long sip of her drink. I glanced behind Carol every once in a while just in case she had been told to talk with me. "Yeah, I am," I nodded. I tried making my responses short to see if she'd get the hint.

Carol went on about herself and where she was going to college. She stated that she wanted to pursue a career in acting and planned to attend a prestigious school in New York. Never did she once ask what I was doing.

It's not like I cared about what she thought, but it's nice when someone asks about your plans. I actually didn't have a solid plan. The plan included me staying in Hawkins to attend a local college. Which didn't seem entirely bad. It meant that I could stay close to my family and friends.

"I just can't believe how much you've changed. I mean, you're not as...." she said.

Her sentence trailed as she tried to think of something to finish it with. She shrugged and shook her drink to see if there was anything left. "Listen, sweetheart," Carol leaned in, "I'm not a 'hint taker,' so you can use that little voice of yours and just speak up."

The smile that inched onto her face was an unfriendly one. I should've known that this conversation would go an entirely different way than it started. I took a long, yet needed, sip of my drink. "Carol, I don't like you. Actually, I never liked you," I spoke, "You're a stuck-up bitch who only cares about herself and nobody else."

She tilted her head, not expecting my remark. "Usually, I'm someone who believes that people can change, but I'm starting to think that you never will," I stood up from the chair, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find my friends because, frankly, I can't stand that stench coming from that thing you call perfume."

It was true. Carol typically wore freakishly strong perfume, to the point where I was convinced plants would shrivel from her 'signature scent.' Carol stood there with her brows raised and an empty beer can in hand. It was a great relief to see Nancy standing there with a few people in my History class Nancy befriended.

Nancy smiled when she saw me walking over to her. Her brows narrowed as she noticed a newfound confidence in me. "What's gotten into you?" she paused, "Oh my god, how many drinks have you had?" I shook my head and threw my can into the trash.

I told Nancy about the conversation with Carol. Nancy's eyes were wide during the explanation. "And she just stood there silently?" Nancy said. I nodded, chuckling. Nancy had her fair share of incidents with Carol. Mostly during her relationship with Steve, but that has since ended.

It did feel weird that I was friends with my former best friend's girlfriend, but Nancy assured me that it didn't matter to her. "How in the hell was Carol invited?" Nancy said. "No clue. I wouldn't be surprised if she just came in without any invitation," I commented, earning a laugh from Nancy.

________

(The Next Day)

The party had been going on for a few hours. Now, it was ten in the morning, and I had somehow gotten a killer headache. I wouldn't drink during parties, but hey, it was senior year after all. Charlie, a girl from my Physics class, laid beside me with her head resting against the top of the couch.

I had no idea where Nancy was. I hoped she hadn't left without me because she was my ride home. I woke up to see the living room and kitchen a mess. I reluctantly sat up from the couch, with Charlie slightly groaning from beside me. I quietly apologized and looked for Steve.

No idea why I was looking for him, but there was a little voice inside my head that urged me to. I saw Nancy curled up on the recliner in the corner of the living area. She scrunched up her face when I tapped her on the knee. "What?" Nancy responded.

Her voice was scratchy. I knew she wasn't one to drink as well. "Hey?" I nudged her again. Nancy's eyes shot open when she recognized it was me that was trying to wake her. She groaned as she sat up in the chair. "We totally slept over, didn't we?" Nancy said. I nodded in reply. She set my hand into hers as I helped her up.

"You can head home. I'm gonna go find Steve," I said. Nancy stared at me, surprised that I claimed I would go find Steve. "I'll be fine. Charlie's here," I said. Nancy looked over my shoulder and shook her head. I followed her line of sight and noticed that Charlie was walking out of the front door.

Now, it was just me and Nancy at Steve's. She patted me on the shoulder. "Help me find my left sneaker. I lost in the middle of that conga line last night," Nancy said, grabbing onto my shoulder for stability.

______

(Later at Steve's House)

Nancy and I never did find her other shoe. So, unfortunately, she had to head home with only one shoe and someone else's jacket. As for me, I was in the middle of cleaning Steve's house. I didn't even want to think about how the backyard looked.

If it was anything like Steve's other parties, it probably looked like shit. It shocked me that I wanted to stay, but I already knew that Steve wouldn't get this done by himself. I had been preparing myself for what to say when he made an appearance this morning.

I set the fifth bag of trash beside the front door. The house looked somewhat better, but still a wreck. I decided it was time to venture upstairs. I cautiously knocked on each door just in case there were still some guests over. When I got to Steve's room, the door was open just a crack.

And there he was. Steve was lying on his bed, the pillows and sheets messed up. His room was the same as it was in Freshmen year. There were a few new posters, but what surprised me more was that Steve had left pictures of us on his dresser. I couldn't stop myself from walking over to the dresser.

A smile appeared on my face when I saw a picture my mom took of us. Since me and Steve both had birthdays in the same month, we had conjoining parties at sometimes. My mom had taken a picture of us on our thirteenth birthday.

We were sitting beside his pool, sharing a piece of cake. It had been my favorite picture of us. My moment was interrupted by Steve moving on the bed. I turned to see him sitting up in his bed. "Hi," I said, slightly staring at him. Steve's eyes found their way to mine.

"Hi?" he replied. His focus was drawn to me, holding up a picture frame. Just then, Steve immediately rushed to the bathroom connected to his room. I don't remember him drinking that much, but I did kinda blank out the rest of the night. So, who knows!

I put the frame back where it was to see if he needed any help. He held up a thumbs up, telling me he was okay. "Steve, you don't look okay," I said. He shook his head and rested his back against the side of the bathtub.

Steve's face was almost pale looking. His eyes weren't red or anything, but he just looked sick. I thought to myself as to what he had served at the party last night. None of it looked different, other than that suspicious-looking chip dip that Carol and Tommy brought.

If I didn't say it, my face sure did. I told Steve I'd be right back. I sifted through the fridge and the trash, soon finding the container of the dip that the couple had brought. I noticed that the dip had expired. "Oh, shit," I muttered.

He hadn't moved since I went downstairs. I carefully grabbed his arm to bring him over to his bed after I remade it. He sunk into the bed, yanking the comforter over his shoulders. "Steve? Did you eat that cheese dip last night?" I crouched beside him. His eyes narrowed. "The one with the green chunks?" he replied.

The only thought that popped into my head was that he had somehow gotten food poisoning from the dip. Good thing I didn't have it. I just hoped Nancy didn't, either. I'll admit, it did kind of look weird last night. "I'll be right back. I just gotta make a call real quick," I said.

Steve nodded his head with his eyes slowly shutting. I bolted down the stairs to the phone in the kitchen. Last Spring, Hazel had gotten food poisoning from some seafood. She had been at home for almost four days because she couldn't do anything. "Hello?" she answered. "Hazel, it's Y/N," I responded.

Hazel stated that our mother left for work this morning. Thankfully, she said that I was staying at a friend's house, which wasn't a lie. "So, I'm in a bit of a situation here," I said. "Okay?" Hazel answered. "I woke up at Steve's house this morning and discovered that he might have food poisoning," I said.

My sister hissed when I told her the news. I remember my mother ranting to Hazel that she has to ask about certain things about food. "What do I do? I don't want to leave Steve by himself because I know he won't do anything," I explained.

She listed a bunch of different medicines I could search for, and just overall to be there for him. Additionally, Hazel made sure to add what foods he could eat. Because, if it wasn't obvious enough, Steve probably had mainly beer and small foods in his stomach.

While getting Steve's food and medicine together, I also cleaned. It took me a little bit to get everything situated. No matter how much I tried to be quiet, Steve still woke up.

I stayed at Steve's house for the whole weekend, staying awake almost every night. He was getting better but still seemed pretty out of it. Hazel stopped by to help me, even offering to stay with him so I could go home. I told her it was okay. Honestly, this gave me a good opportunity to try and talk to Steve.

It is kind of unfortunate that the time I choose to talk to him is when he's high on some medications. Hazel just left Steve's to drop off some new clothes for me and a few different foods. My mind kept going to why I was doing this all for him.

I mean, is it really worth it? He'll probably just forget about it, but the old Steve might've done that, but certainly not him now. I also couldn't help but think if there were other feelings left in my brain.

Steve was absolutely zonked. I was doing what felt like the millionth round of laundry this weekend. I fixed Steve's pillow, noticing that he was about to fall off the bed if he moved over an inch. I went to get up from the bed. His eyes slightly opened when he saw me.

"Hey," Steve said softly, his hand softly grasping my hand. Steve smiled, but it was a tired smile. "Thank you," he kissed my hand, "Thank you, Nancy."

He fell back asleep when he spoke those words. I didn't know what to do. It's not a big deal, though. Is it? I'm not sure why I was even somewhat offended. It's not like had control over that. It took everything within me to not wake him up. I ignored his statement and left his room.

________

(A Few Months Later)

After Steve's graduation party, things were awkward. Well, at least they were on my end. For all I knew, Steve had no idea what he said. All he knew was that I stayed after to help clean, and he was wasted.

I debated on telling Nancy, but I didn't want to complicate things. The thought that often rotated in my head was: the kiss on the hand, was that meant for Nancy or me? It's stupid to even care. I don't have any feelings for him other than friends. Hazel always said that she could see us together.

But I'd deny it every single time she mentioned it. If it wasn't enough torture thinking about that party, I thought it would've been a brilliant idea to work at Scoops Ahoy with Steve. I know, wonderful isn't it?

In all fairness, it was nice being friends with Steve again. It almost seemed like we put everything that happened behind us. Neither one of us mentioned anything. And! I met Robin. Who makes working at an ice cream parlor more fun.

Robin often convinced our manager to put the three of us together because she loved watching me and Steve bicker. "Dude, you can't just do that," I said, scooping some banana ice cream.

"Why? She laughed at my joke," Steve played with the ice cream scoop. "I believe it was a pitty laugh," I said. Steve gasped at my comment. "It was nowhere in the vicinity of a 'pitty laugh,'" Steve said.

He glanced at Robin for help. She put her hands up, saying she wasn't getting in the middle of the argument, but we all knew she loved to be a witness to it. "Then enlighten me, sunshine. What was wrong with my joke?" Steve invited me to explain.

Big mistake, Harrington. I gave the kid the ice cream, and she handed me the change. The parlor wasn't super crowded today, which was nice because it gave my friends and me time to talk.

"First, you said, 'Can I follow you?' Then paused and followed with 'Because my mom told me to follow my dreams,'" I explained, "You can't say that to someone and expect them to go with it. No wonder she left without getting her change."

Yet again, Steve looked back at Robin. Robin was desperately trying to hold back her laughter, and so was I. "It wasn't that bad," Steve said. "Steve, it was borderline bad," Robin spoke. Steve through his arms up in the air. She put a line on the 'you suck' part of the whiteboard. I laughed.

Steve turned to me with his brows raised, mad at my reaction. "Dude, c'mon, you're asking for it at this point," I said. Steve rolled his eyes and flipped the scoop back into the pocket of his apron. "Fine, then what's a good example of a pickup line?" he questioned.

I sighed and closed the lid where all the ice cream was. Steve watched me as I thought of a pickup line. "Steve, I don't think any pickup line in the world could top the one that you just said," Robin said, "In fact, I don't even think that there is a good pick-up line."

Steve groaned and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. "Why can't you just talk to girls like a normal person?" I asked. "Cause he's not a normal person," Robin set the board beside her and joined us at the counter.

(Third Person View)

Unlike what Y/N thought, Steve knew exactly what happened. He himself couldn't even fathom what he did. Y/N had written what happened in her journal and later crumpled up the paper, throwing it in the trash. She needed to tell someone but decided to write it down instead.

Naturally, like older sisters do, Hazel noticed the paper in the trash. After reading the words carefully, she realized what happened. Hazel kept it to herself up until it slipped out during prep for a DND meeting with Dustin, which soon led to Steve finding out.

You'd think everything would've stayed hidden, but in Hazel's defense, she wasn't even planning on telling anyone. And as for Steve, he felt terrible. He was good at hiding it because Y/N had no idea. He knew that he needed to tell Y/N and apologize for being such a jerk.

He didn't even know why it was so hard to tell her. Maybe it was because he truly cared about her, or maybe because he saw her in a different light. Steve clearly remembers the conversation with Dustin:

[Two Months After The Party]

"Are you stupid, or are you dumb?" Dustin said, standing in front of Steve. Steve stood behind the kitchen counter as the Henderson boy sat at the table. "I can't believe you said that," Dustin continued his rant. "Hey, you try being high on drugs," Steve pointed at Dustin with a butter knife.

Dustin disregarded the older boy's reaction. He stood up from the table and walked over to the counter. "That doesn't matter. Did you not think that it was Y/N at all?" Dustin said. Steve sighed and set the knife on the plate. He ran a hand under the sink, wiping his hands on a towel. "Dustin, I don't even know why I did it, okay? I was barely unconscious, and my vision was blurry and all that shit that comes with food poisoning," Steve said.

He waved his arms around as he spoke. Dustin thought to himself, mainly thinking that Steve had a point. "Next time you get some information like that, don't go blabbing it to everyone," Steve went back to making his sandwich. Dustin looked up at him. "I didn't 'blab' it everyone. Hazel told me accidentally, then I told you," Dustin answered. Steve rolled his eyes again.

______

(Later - Y/N's Point of View)

Since restarting our friendship, Steve and I started hanging out again. Which included our weekly movie or game nights and hanging out at Starcourt. Right now, we were in the middle of watching one of my favorite movies since it was my turn to choose.

The two of us were on good terms and eventually figured that our long break of friendship was needed. We gathered our favorite snacks and settled in the living room. The movie was only halfway through when Steve decided to speak up. "Hey, Y/N, can I talk to you about something?" he asked.

"Steve, we're in the middle of a movie," I said, gesturing to the television. His brows rose. Steve looked at me, then back to the movie. "How many times have you seen this movie?" he said. I shrugged in reply. "Like five million times," Steve answered, "I think you'll be fine not watching Sixteen Candles for a split second."

He gestured to the television once more before sitting up straight. "C'mon, Samantha was just about to have the moment with Jack," I said, my shoulders dropping. Steve didn't look like he was amused one bit. I sighed and grabbed the remote to pause the movie. "What is it?" I inquired.

He took the blanket off, draping it over the back of the couch. Steve turned so he was facing me. "You remember the grad party in May?" Steve asked. I nodded, motioning for him to get on with it. It was typical for Steve to try and stall as if he was thinking about what to say.

"And you were being your sweet self and cleaned up my house for me," he said. "I had to clean with a killer headache," I said. He chuckled at my response, sighing. "Well," Steve said, "I've been told that that's not entirely true." Now, I really wish I had put up a bigger fight to not pause the movie.

Steve watched me think to myself before finishing his speech. "I was told that..." he said. "That you said Nancy's name when I was helping you," I finished, not bothering to ask how my sister found out. During our conversation, his brown eyes were focused on the carpet.

His eyes wandered away from the ground and up to me. "Why didn't you tell me? Or, ask me if I remembered?" he questioned. I sighed, shrugging yet again. "Because I was afraid. I'm not really sure why because you are the least intimidating person that I know," I said, earning a soft chuckle from Steve.

"Part of me thought that you didn't want to talk to me because I practically ditched you," I said, "And, again, I don't even know why I even bothered to stay to help you, but some little part of me knew that I should. I knew that if I left, you'd never take care of yourself. And it hurt me to think that you'd be home alone feeling like shit."

Steve's face softened at my long statement. He smiled slightly. "Y/N," Steve said. He took my hand into his, resting my hand on his knee. He stared at our hands and then up to me. "I'm sorry that I said Nancy's name. I was completely out of it, and when I heard what I did. I felt terrible because I had grown to like you more than we were little," Steve said.

Now, he had caught my attention. I was a little taken aback, questioning what I heard. "I've grown to like you more than just friends. That's probably a little weird because we've started hanging out again, but you're still the same Y/N that I've known since forever," he paused, "And I'm the same Steve. Well, a new and improved Steve."

His smile grew at the sight of mine. Steve kissed me on the top of my head, leaning his forehead against mine. I smiled as his lips lingered before leaning back, our faces still close.

"I do have one question," I said, "How exactly did you find out? Because I didn't tell anyone." He put the blanket back onto the two of us. Steve grabbed the remote, chuckled (GIF Above), and stated, "I think we should go back to the movie."

Taglist: @b-ritney @ramaalkayyali @midnightstar-90 @nix-rose

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