♡ Queen ♡

Sure, he had an instagram account. He barely used it himself, but he loved seeing the pictures you posted — the ones he’d taken of you — and he never failed to leave embarrassingly sweet and suggestive comments underneath them that made even your best friends blush.

Another thing you absolutely loved about Eddie was that he was possessive.

Not in a toxic way. Eddie never tried to control you or excessively claim you, nor did he treat you like you were anything less than your own independent person. He never isolated you from your friends or questioned where you were every second of the day.

He was possessive in the way that he never missed an opportunity to remind everyone that he belonged to you. He’d proudly walk around with the hickeys and scratches you’d left him, grinning smugly whenever someone pointed them out with a dubious look.

“Courtesy of my princess,” he’d say without a single ounce of shame.

You were his favourite subject, how could you not be? Eddie could spend hours talking about you. He could write ridiculous, overly dramatic sonnets about your laugh and the way your nose scrunched whenever something genuinely amused you. He could probably design an entire comic series inspired by the way your hair danced in the wind. Hell, he’d tattoo your fucking name across his neck if you asked him to.

That’s how hopelessly, ridiculously obsessed and possessive he was with you.

Which was exactly why, the moment you stumbled across the trend on TikTok, you knew you had to try it on him.

The calling your boyfriend your ‘friend’ trend.

It was stupid, and it was evil, and it was going to drive Eddie absolutely fucking insane.

Even though he didn’t care much for TikTok, or any other platform for that matter, Eddie always jumped at the chance to do whatever random thing you wanted.

“What are we doing again?”

“Uh…” you mumbled, balancing your phone on the kitchen counter. “There’s this viral…”

Taking a few steps back, you gently pulled Eddie by the wrist until he was standing beside you, squinting at the screen to check whether the lighting was good enough. Scrunching your nose, you gave his wrist another little tug when you noticed he’d drifted just outside the frame.

“Stay right here,” you instructed. “Do not move.”

Turning around, you walked over to the fridge, grabbed the light blue can, and returned to his side.

“There’s this viral beverage I wanted to try.”

“…And you wanted to get that on camera?” he asked quietly, the words carrying just the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”

You placed the can on the counter and shot him a sweet smile over your shoulder.

Eddie simply shrugged, nodding as though your explanation made perfect sense. “Alright. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Ready?”

“I guess.”

With one smooth swipe, you switched your phone from photo to video, started the timer, and hurried back into place. You gave Eddie one last tug when he instinctively stepped out of frame again.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted brightly once the recording started, smiling at the camera as you reached forwards to grab the can. “I’m here with my friend Eddie today.”

Beside you, Eddie — who had been smiling awkwardly at the camera ever since you’d hit record — immediately stopped smiling.

“And today we’re gonna try the new Spindrift drink!”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing when you noticed Eddie turning his face towards you.

“What—”

Before he could finish, you held the can towards the camera as though clinking it against the screen before turning back to him.

“You wanna go first, bud?” you asked as you popped the tab up and broke the lid open.

Eddie, who had been staring at you with wide, uncertain brown eyes, slowly turned to look at your phone like he was a character on The Office.

For a long second, he simply stared at the screen. His gaze drifted down to the pretty light blue dress you’d put on — somehow the exact same shade as the can in your hand — before slowly lifting back to meet your eyes.

“…What the fuck?” The words came out equal parts confused and unamused.

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you continued holding the can out for him to take.

“Bud?” His nose wrinkled as though the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. “Friend?”

“…Uh, yeah,” you replied slowly, tilting your head in practiced confusion. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” His eyebrows remained knitted together as the corners of his mouth slowly turned down. “Did I… did I do something?”

“We’re literally just trying this drink.” You let out a small laugh, pulling a face as though he’d just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable. “Why are you acting weird?”

“Me? Acting weird?” Eddie repeated, hesitantly lifting a hand to scratch at his jaw. “You just… called me your friend.”

“Uh, yeah?” you scoffed. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big…” He blinked at you, looking completely lost. “Sweetheart, why do you keep calling me your friend?”

“Because you are?”

“No, I’m not.” Eddie shook his head, sounding almost offended by the suggestion. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“Exactly.” You nodded matter-of-factly. “My boy,” you paused dramatically, “friend.”

The second the last word left your mouth, a tiny snort escaped. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as you hastily disguised it with a cough, praying Eddie hadn’t noticed.

But he had.

The longer you looked at him, the harder it became to keep the act going.

Eddie’s bewildered expression slowly gave way to suspicion as he watched your nose scrunch behind your hand, your shoulders beginning to shake with poorly concealed laughter.

“…You’re bullshitting me.”

Eddie rested his hands on his hips like an exhausted father of three and turned his head towards the phone. His teeth found his lower lip as he worried it beneath them for a moment before slowly looking back at you, one eyebrow raised in complete disbelief.

“Friend,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m gonna show you fucking friend.”

He stared at you for another long second before finally reaching over and taking the can from your hand, setting it carefully back down on the counter.

Before you had a chance to react, he reached for your phone, tapping the bright red button to stop the recording.

Eddie left your phone exactly where it was before slowly turning back to face you. The look he gave you was one you knew all too well; you rarely got to see it, which only made it all the more memorable.

His eyebrows were drawn together, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance as he tilted his head back just slightly.

“You know…” he began slowly, dragging the tip of his tongue across his lower lip before continuing. “You’re real fucking funny, sweetheart.”

“Eds—”

He barely gave you a second to react before scooping you up into his arms and effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder.

“Maybe we should show your TikTok followers what I’m about to do to you, huh?”

You watched the black-and-white checkered kitchen floor slowly disappear beneath you as Eddie carried you out of the room.

“Eddie, what are you—”

“I’m gonna show you what a great friend I am,” he scoffed.

As if to prove his point that he was the furthest thing from being your friend — like you needed the reminder — he gave your ass a hard slap as he stepped into the hallway leading to your shared bedroom.

A startled shriek escaped you at the sudden sting of his palm, and you immediately began squirming in his hold, hoping to convince him to put you back — but no such luck, unfortunately. Eddie merely tightened his grip around your legs, a low, humourless chuckle rumbling from his chest as he nudged the bedroom door open with his socked foot.

He swiftly pushed the bedroom door shut behind the two of you with the heel of his foot before taking a few slow steps towards the bed — the fresh linens perfectly made from earlier that morning, when you’d changed them.

Carelessly, Eddie lowered you onto the mattress, letting you bounce lightly against it before straightening back up. He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing his unruly curls away from his face as he stood at the foot of the bed, broad shoulders filling the space with an almost unfair amount of confidence.

“I’m not your buddy,” he said, his voice low as you pushed yourself upright. “And I’m not your friend either.”

“Eddie, baby,” you began with a small, sheepish smile, tilting your head to one side. “It was just a—”

“I’m your boyfriend,” he interrupted without missing a beat. “But I guess you need a little reminder of that, hm?”

“I-I though you were gonna show me—”

“And I think you’ve said enough already, hm?” he scoffed.

Eddie didn’t miss a beat before making his way over to the vintage dresser the two of you’d found in that little antique shop a few weeks ago.

“Last time I checked,” he began slowly, dragging the tip of his finger across the worn wooden surface, “you didn’t share this fucking dresser with Robin.”

Another chuckle escaped him. Dry and amused this time, despite the mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes that gave away just how much fun he was actually having.

“And all that talk about adopting a ferret together?” He held up two fingers as he continued listening off his evidence. “Sorry, sweetheart, but adopting an animal isn’t exactly something you do with your friends. Not usually.”

Leaning back against the dresser, Eddie folded his arms across his chest and looked at you with a cocky grin stretching across his face.

“You know what else isn’t something friends do?” He arched an eyebrow, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t actually expecting an answer. “The three orgasms I’m about to give you, just to prove my point.”

“T-three?” you gulped. “I’ve never—”

“Exactly.” He nodded slowly, the smug grin tugging wider at the corners of his mouth. “One orgasm for each time you called me something I’m not.”

Eddie uncrossed his arms, resting them against the dresser behind him as his fingers lazily drummed against the worn wooden surface, his eyes never once leaving you.

The baby blue dress looked painfully good on you. It hugged your waist in all the right places, and the neckline…

Jesus.

It drove Eddie nearly as insane as the little stunt you’d pulled in the kitchen not even five minutes earlier.

His dark brown eyes wandered slowly over your face before drifting down the length of your body, lingering for just a moment before finding yours again.

Pushing himself away from the dresser, he closed the distance between you with slow, unhurried steps. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed, both hands sinking into the duvet on either side of you until his nose barely brushed yours.

Eddie looked at you through his lashes, a smug grin slowly spreading across his plush lips as he watched your own part ever so slightly.

“What?” he murmured. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him before he leaned in, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. He lingered there for a long moment, savouring it, before finally pulling away and settling back onto his heels.

Eddie’s hand lazily curled around the neckline of his black t-shirt, peeling it off without the slightest hint of urgency.

You swallowed as your attention was immediately pulled away from his eyes and towards the tattooed expanse of his chest, busier now than it had been when the two of you had started dating. Your gaze lingered on the newest addition to his collection — a neo-traditional raven inked along the right side of his stomach.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he murmured, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he gently tipped your chin back up with the crook of a finger.

Without caring where it landed, Eddie tossed the shirt over his shoulder before stepping back from the bed. Standing once again at the foot of the mattress, his fingers slowly trailed down the planes of his stomach until they reached the button of his jeans.

“The dress stays on,” he said quietly.

He undid the button, tugged the zipper down, and let the worn denim fall to the floor with a muted thud.

Eddie’s knees sank back into the mattress, making the bedframe creak underneath his weight. He reached out for your thighs, slowly running his hands up and down your legs until, finally, trailing his fingertips higher until they skimmed the lace trim of your panties. Hooking his fingers into the lace, he slowly dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening folds to his dark brown eyes.

He hummed appreciatively as his fingers ghosted along your slick folds, marvelling at how wet you were for him already.

Leaning down, he captured your mouth in a slow kiss, his tongue swiping across your lower lip as he took his sweet time to taste and explore your mouth like he always did when he wanted to torture you. Eddie swallowed your low gasp, relishing in the soft sounds that escaped you.

Breaking away, Eddie blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pausing to lave attention on your pulse points as he nibbled right above your collarbone.

Eddie trailed kisses down your chest, making sure to skip your hardened nipples under the soft fabric of your dress, until his face finally hovered above your aching core. Being the obsessed freak that he was, he breathed in your heady scent before shooting you a smug grin.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.” He placed a soft, lingering kiss on the inside of your thigh as he reached for one of your hands. He gave you a gentle squeeze before placing your hand on the back of his head. “Because I’ll not be going easy on you.”

With an arched, daring eyebrow, he plunged in, tongue delving deep into your slick heat. He lapped and sucked, worshiping you with lips and teeth and tongue until you were a trembling mess, falling backwards until your head hit the pillows behind you.

Your hips bucked involuntarily at the sudden feeling of Eddie sealing his mouth over your swollen clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves rapidly with the tip of his tongue as he slowly plunged a thick finger knuckle-deep into your tight pussy. He pumped and curled his digit, stroking your slick walls until you were fluttering around him.

“A-ah! F-fuck, Eddie—”

He sucked harder on your clit, adding a second finger into you as he thrusted them faster and deeper until you’re shattering with a broken gasp, your release gushing over his chin as he worked you through the aftershocks.

Holding your gaze, Eddie slid his fingers out of you and pushed them into his mouth. His tongue lapped eagerly at them, licking them clean, while his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure at the way you tasted.

After licking his digits clean, he pulled the top part of your dress down until the fabric sat underneath your breasts. Cupping your boobs, he thumbed your hardened nipples teasingly. Eddie’s dark brown eyes locked onto yours as he slowly rolled one hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging harshly. It made pleasure zing straight to your core, making you squirm underneath him. He lavished the same attention to your other nipple, pinching and tweaking it until he had you begging for more.

“P-please, Eds—”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

Reaching between your bodies, Eddie pushed his boxers down just enough to free his aching length. The sight of his cock made your mouth water every single time — long, thick mushroom tip, and painfully pink.

He notched the broad tip of his cock against your slit, teasing and probing before sinking into your slick pussy with one powerful thrust.

“Is this what a friend does to you? Huh?” He chuckled darkly as he looked down at you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Answer me.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip. “N-no.”

He could swear you were molten silk clutching him tight, stroking his length with each desperate roll of his hips as you met his thrusts.

Eddie pistoned his hips faster, harder, burying himself to the hilt again and again. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, breathy pants and bitten-off curses.

“F-fuck.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Gimme another one,” He punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, chasing your second release like his life depended on it. “Be a good fucking friend and come on my cock.”

“H-harder, Eds. P-please.”

The desperate, broken plea spurred him on. He grabbed your hips bruisingly tight as he drove into you with ruthless precision, angling to hit that special spot deep inside that always made you scream. The obscene slap of his balls against your ass echoed through the room, while his curly pubes brushing against your swollen clit pulled desperate gasps from your lips.

Your fingers curled into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp before you pulled at his roots, while your other hand raked down his sweat-slicked back. Your leg locked around his waist, heel digging into the plush fat of his ass as you urged him impossibly closer.

“You’re so fucking tight f’me, baby,” he growled, voice wrecked.

“E-Eds, I’m g-gonna—”

Your release crashed over you, white-hot and blinding as you clenched down hard on his aching cock. Your walls puled around him as he continued grinning wolfishly at your open mouth and glassy eyes.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. Eddie slipped his tongue inside your mouth, bobbing his head as he sloppily sucked on your tongue.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “Just one more, you can do it. I know you can.”

“I-I can’t, Eds,” you whimpered, desperately licking your lips to get rid of the dry feeling. “P-please—”

Eddie trailed open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, suckling at your pulse points hard enough to leave marks.

He grabbed at your hips, guiding you to meet each roll with a grind of his own. His breathing was strained as his hips worked feverishly now, chasing that high. Curving one hand around to rub tight circles on your clit, Eddie doubled his efforts, determined to tip you over the edge and watch you fall apart on his cock, crying his name.

Sweat slicked your straining bodies as he plunged into your sloppy heat over and over. The wet squelch of your messy cunt, the lewd slap of flesh, your needy cries — it’s almost too much, even for Eddie.

“That’s it, baby. Soak my fucking cock.” He rasped desperately, fingers flying over your throbbing clit.

Eddie could tell you were close, pussy clenching hard around him, thighs trembling around his pistoning hips.

With a final twist of his wrist, he sent you over the edge with a high pitched, broken moan that somewhat resembled his name. Your pussy fluttered and gushed around him, soaking his thighs with a hot and unexpected jet, clenching so hard on his cock you milked him for all he’s worth.

“Ed-Ed— Fuckfuckfuck.” Your head was tilted back, neck on display and mouth wide open. “Mmpff!”

“Jesus— F-fucking take it,” he gasped, nuzzling into your neck to sink his teeth into your skin.

With stuttering hips, Eddie’s rhythm faltered as the feeling of your squirting pussy drenching him, unravelling the last thread of his control. With one last moan, he buried himself to the hilts pulsing and shuddering as he filled you up, painting your greedy pussy in that addicting sticky, milky white.

Eddie pushed himself up just enough for his gaze to drift lazily to where the two of you were connected, his tired, wide eyes settling on the mess you’d made of the fresh linens, like he’d just witnessed a miracle.

The sight drew a slow grin to his face. He caught his lower lip between his teeth before a quiet, satisfied chuckle escaped him. Reaching up, he gently tapped two fingers against your cheek before letting his hand cradle your face, his thumb brushing softly over your skin as he tipped your chin back towards him.

“So,” he murmured, his fingertips pressing ever so slightly into your cheeks. “Who am I?”

You blinked your eyes open, still dazed, your tongue sweeping absently across your lower lip before you managed a sleepy, satisfied smile.

“M-my boyfriend.”

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Damn right I am.”

Neither of you spoke much after that. You simply stayed tangled together, basking in each other’s warmth while your breathing gradually slowed and your racing heart settled back into its familiar rhythm.

After a while, Eddie wrapped his arms around you and drew the two of you a warm, well-deserved bath.

He settled into the tub first before gently pulling you back against him, your back resting flush against his chest. One arm stayed securely around your waist while the other slowly worked your favourite soap into a rich lather, his touch gentle as he washed over your arms.

“I love you,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I love you more, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. “But do not ever call me your friend again.”

A giggle escaped you as you nodded. “Deal.”

Some hours later, after Eddie had helped you into one of his oversized t-shirts and patiently combed the tangles from your hair, the two of you found yourselves curled up on the couch, you lazily scrolling through the comments on your TikTok while he started working on a joint.

He’d frowned when you’d told him you were posting it, though the look quickly faded once you explained that the trend was about getting your partner’s reaction — not trying the can of sparkling water that was still sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter.

Eddie, who normally didn’t give a rat’s ass about social media beyond hyping you up in the comments of your Instagram posts, had eventually let his curiosity get the better of him. Leaning over your shoulder, he stretched his neck to get a look at your phone.

Congratulations on your pregnancy girl!

oh, she’s exactly where she wants to be

I’m gonna show you fucking friend???? HELLO???

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you, while Eddie merely blinked confused at the phone in your hand.

“…Pregnancy?”

“It’s a TikTok thing, babe.”

He frowned a little harder before reading the next comment.

“‘The way he looked at her after she said ‘my boy… friend’, girl I would have folded IMMEDIATELY’.”

A smug grin spread across Eddie’s face as he turned to look at you, a quiet scoff escaping him while hr raised his eyebrows in triumph.

“See? The internet agrees with me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Eddie simply looked back down at his hands, carefully finishing the joint he’d promised to roll while the two of you soaked in the bath.

“Shut up.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Make me, sweetheart.”

Permanent tag list? Just ask!

When you returned to the house that evening, Eddie was sitting on the porch, anticipating your arrival. The second you came into view, he snubbed the cigarette out and tossed it into the yard.

“Hey,” he said, voice calmer than you’d ever think Eddie was capable of.

Your mother and aunt exchanged a quick look before brushing past Eddie, leaving the two of you alone.

Eddie searched your face, the faint smile he'd been wearing when you'd first appeared slowly disappearing.

"You wanna go for a walk around?"

You glanced toward the garden and let out a tired laugh. "I think I've walked enough today."

"Fair. You hungry?"

You shrugged.

"Tired?"

Another shrug that earned the faintest twitch of a smile from him.

"You're really giving me a lot to work with here."

"I'm trying."

"I know."

His fingers laced between yours without another word.

"I don't wanna talk about it," you admitted quietly.

"I figured."

"...Can we just pretend everything's normal for a little while?"

His thumb swept absentmindedly across the back of your hand. "You’re a witch living in a haunted funeral home with a ghost for a boyfriend. Sure, we can do normal."

You let out another exhausted laugh and planted your head on his chest. He chuckled and kissed the crown of your head before giving you a gentle tug toward the house.

"I think your folks made dinner."

Dinner was... normal; strangely, painfully normal. Your aunt complained about a supplier who'd sent the wrong flowers for a service that weekend. Your mother argued that your aunt had absolutely ordered the wrong flowers. Your aunt insisted she had not.

Eddie quietly sided with whichever one wasn't looking at him. You mostly pushed food around your plate while pretending to listen.

Every now and then, your gaze drifted toward Eddie, and he'd catch you looking every single time. Never saying anything, just offering a small smile before going back to the conversation.

By the time you were ready for bed, you and Eddie had barely spoken. Your mind was still racing from the day’s events, battling between what should happen and what you wanted. 

It was selfish in a way, you thought. Not performing the ritual meant you got to keep Eddie around. Performing it meant that Eddie and the other souls trapped in the house could find peace at the expense of the loss of the first real relationship you’d ever had. As real as dating a ghost could be, anyway. 

Eventually, Eddie wandered into your room carrying the old portable television he'd somehow convinced himself still worked better than it had any right to.

"I brought entertainment."

You looked up from where you'd been staring blankly out the window. "You mean distraction."

"...Semantics."

Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth twitched.

"There's my girl."

You rolled your eyes, but shifted over on the bed anyway, making room while he set the television on top of your dresser. The screen fizzled with static for a few seconds before finally settling into a familiar opening sequence.

You frowned. "The Lost Boys?"

Eddie looked genuinely offended. "What?"

"I don't know..."

"You don't know?" he repeated dramatically. "Sweetheart, that's practically sacrilegious."

"I've never seen it."

He stared at you for a long moment before placing a hand over his heart. "I don't know if I can be with someone who hasn't seen The Lost Boys."

You scoffed, fake-insulted, and swatted at him. He caught your wrist with an obnoxiously smug grin.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"You can't."

"I can."

"You literally can't."

He laughed, kissing your hand once before stretching out beside you. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, his shoulder bumping lightly against yours as he reached for the remote.

"You've been dating a dead guy for months," he informed you. "Honestly, vampires should be the least concerning part of your evening."

A quiet laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"There it is again," Eddie murmured, not taking his eyes off the television. "Missed hearing that today."

Your smile faded a little. "I know."

The room settled into silence as the movie played, broken only by the occasional sarcastic comment from Eddie whenever a character made an objectively terrible decision.

"Told you he was gonna die."

"You say that about everyone."

"I'm usually right."

"You are literally watching the movie again."

"Details."

Eddie absentmindedly traced lazy circles against your arm, more focused on comforting you than on whatever was happening on the screen.

"You don't have to figure it out tonight," he said quietly.

You swallowed. "I know."

"And whatever it is..." He hesitated. "We'll deal with it."

We'll.

You nodded, unable to trust your own voice.

As the movie progressed, your eyelids became heavier and heavier. The dialogue on the television blurred together with the rhythmic creaking of the old house until you couldn't quite tell which sounds belonged to which.

The last thing you remembered before sleep claimed you was Eddie pressing a gentle kiss against your temple.

Then, silence. Not the silence of an empty room, but the silence of somewhere else. So quiet that it didn’t even feel humanly possible. 

When you opened your eyes, you were standing beneath a canopy of ancient trees.

Their branches stretched impossibly high overhead, woven together so tightly they swallowed the sky whole. Silver mist drifted lazily between the trunks, curling around your ankles with every cautious step you took. The forest was familiar in a way that made your pulse quicken.

The last time you were here was the night of your dark baptism. 

Four worn paths stretched outward before you, each disappearing into a different corner of the endless forest. One swallowed by dense pines. One lined with skeletal white birch. One overgrown with thorned vines. And the last...

The last disappeared into darkness so complete that it seemed to consume the light around it. The crossroads, exactly as you'd seen them before. Only this time, you weren't alone.

A soft crackle echoed somewhere behind you, causing you to turn.

Hecate stood between two towering yew trees, one hand wrapped loosely around a burning torch. Three large black dogs rested quietly at her feet, their golden eyes fixed on you with unsettling intelligence. An owl perched silently on the branch above her shoulder, watching with the same patient curiosity.

The goddess herself looked almost different from how she had in your vision. Not because she'd changed. Because every time you looked away and back again, she seemed older. Younger. Dark-haired. Silver-haired. Beautiful. Terrifying.

Like your mind couldn't settle on a single version of her.

"My child." Her words echoed throughout the entire forest, as opposed to simply being stated to you. 

You instinctively lowered your head. "You know why I have come."

A small smile touched Hecate's lips. "No."

She stepped forward, the mist shifting around her feet. "I have come to you."

She stopped at the center of the crossroads, lifting the torch just enough for its warm light to spill across the weathered stone beneath her feet.

"You wonder why this path was placed before you."

You swallowed. "Yes."

Her gaze drifted beyond you, toward the forest itself. "The house called."

Your brow furrowed.

"It has called for many years. Many heard it. None answered."

Your chest tightened.

"You did."

"I didn't know what I was walking into."

"No." The corners of Hecate's mouth softened. "You walked toward suffering anyway."

"You found frightened souls."

Another step.

"You offered kindness."

Another.

"You found a lonely spirit."

Eddie.

"You offered love."

"I wasn't trying to..." Your voice faltered. "I just..."

"I know." There wasn't an ounce of judgment in her voice. "Compassion rarely arrives with intention."

The forest around you seemed to breathe. Branches creaked softly overhead while the mist rolled slowly across the crossroads.

"You believe the house chose you."

"It did not." Her golden eyes met yours. "You chose it."

Confusion settled across your face. "I don't understand."

"The house has called to witches before. They sought power. You sought people. And the house answered accordingly."

Then Hecate slowly turned, raising the torch toward the forest surrounding the crossroads, and the mist shifted. Shapes began emerging between the trees. One. Then another. Then dozens. Hundreds.

Transparent figures stood quietly amongst the trunks, watching. Children. Old men. Young mothers. Teenagers. People from centuries apart, all gathered together in complete silence.

"So many..." you whispered.

"They have stood at this threshold for generations."

Hecate's voice carried no sadness. "They wait."

You looked from face to face, your heart breaking a little more with each passing second. "They're waiting for me."

"They are waiting for someone." Her eyes found yours once more. "And you possess the key."

Your fingers instinctively curled into your palms. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Hecate stepped closer until only a few feet separated the two of you.

"Strength is not the absence of grief." Her hand rested lightly over your heart. "It is carrying it."

The warmth spread through your chest immediately.

"You have been chosen not because you are powerful. You have been chosen because you love."

Her hand fell away.

"And love will make this choice both impossible..." She looked toward the waiting souls. "...and worthy."

Your eyes snapped open, and a shriek left your mouth as you dropped onto your bed.  The mattress bounced beneath you, knocking the breath from your lungs as your heart hammered painfully against your ribs.

"Hey—hey!"

Before you could fully orient yourself, a pair of hands caught your shoulders.

"It's okay."

You blinked wildly, your breathing coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The bedroom slowly came back into focus around you. The television still glowed faintly on the dresser, long since switched to static. And Eddie.

He was kneeling beside the bed, both hands still gripping your shoulders, wide brown eyes searching your face with an expression you'd never seen on him before: fear.

"Eddie..."

His shoulders visibly sagged with relief the second you spoke. "Jesus Christ."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "...What happened?"

He stared at you for a long second, like he was making sure you were actually awake before answering. "You tell me."

Your brow furrowed.

"I've been trying to wake you up for the last forty minutes."

"What?"

"You were..." He gestured helplessly toward the ceiling. "...floating."

Your stomach dropped. "I was what?"

"You were three feet above the damn bed."

You looked instinctively toward the ceiling as though expecting to find some explanation written there.

"I kept calling your name." His voice was quieter now, lingering somewhere between disbelief and lingering panic. "You wouldn't answer."

He laughed once under his breath, humorless. "I tried shaking you."

"I was trying to pull you back down," he admitted, almost sheepishly. "Thought maybe if I got enough leverage..."

A weak smile tugged at your lips despite everything. "You were gonna wrestle witch-gravity?"

"I was gonna try. I was running out of ideas."

Your smile disappeared just as quickly as it'd come. "...I saw her."

Eddie's expression shifted immediately. "Hecate?"

You nodded once. His thumb absentmindedly brushed over your shoulder, grounding both of you more than either would probably admit.

"...Was it bad?" he asked quietly.

You swallowed hard. "No."

The word caught in your throat. "...That might be the problem."

Eddie searched your face before sighing. “What happened at Myrtle’s?”

You looked down at your hands. "...Everything."

His brow furrowed as you took a slow breath, and you told him. You told him about Myrtle's shop. About Hecate's connection to you growing stronger with every passing day.

You told him about the crossroads. About the trapped souls. About the dream. The forest. Hecate.

The thousands of spirits waiting in silence. The house calling for help long before you'd ever stepped foot inside it. The witches who had come before you searching for power, only to leave empty-handed. 

How Hecate had told you that the house hadn't chosen you because you were the strongest, it had chosen you because you'd stayed. Because you'd listened. Because somewhere along the way, you'd stopped seeing ghosts and started seeing people.

Not once did Eddie ever interrupt. He simply sat beside you on the edge of the bed, listening while your voice occasionally caught in your throat.

You even told him the part you hadn't wanted to say out loud. The ritual, the one capable of breaking whatever ancient force had kept the spirits tethered to the house for generations. The one that would finally allow them to cross over.

"...So." The word barely left your mouth. "If I do it..."

You couldn't bring yourself to finish the sentence. He stared down at his hands for a long time before letting out a slow breath through his nose.

"...Guess Myrtle was right."

You frowned. "About what?"

He gave a small, tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Things were finally starting to make sense."

Tears began to well in your eyes as you nodded gently, “I know. I know they were. It doesn’t mean I have to do it right away, I can—”

“I think you should do it.”

His words stopped you in your tracks. You stared at him.

"...What?"

Eddie didn't look at you. Instead, his gaze settled on the worn hardwood floor beneath his feet, elbows resting against his knees while he slowly rubbed his palms together.

"You heard me."

"No." Your voice cracked. "No, you don't get to say that."

He let out a slow breath. "I do."

"You can't possibly mean that."

Finally, he looked up, and his eyes were already shining. "I do."

You shook your head over and over again. "No."

"I love you." The confession slipped out before you could stop it.

"I love you, and you're sitting here telling me I should just..." Your voice broke completely. "...let you go?"

Eddie's face crumpled for only a second before he forced it back together. "I know. I love you too. But I know that this is the right thing to do."

"No, you don't."

"I do."

"You don't know what you're asking me."

"I know exactly what I'm asking."

You stood abruptly from the bed, pacing a few steps before turning back toward him. "What about us?"

"What about Wayne?"

Eddie leaned forward, resting his forearms against his thighs.

"What about every family that's spent years praying and talking to their loved ones?"

You opened your mouth, but he kept going. "What about the little girl that died in there in the forties?"

Your chest tightened.

"The old man upstairs who still thinks his wife is waiting for him."

Another pause.

"The soldiers."

"The kids."

"The people whose names nobody even remembers anymore."

He laughed softly to himself. "I've been so damn focused on staying with you..."

His smile faltered. "...that I forgot they never got a choice."

"I kept them here."

"Eddie..."

"I did."

His eyes finally met yours again. "When I died..."

He swallowed. "I was angry. So fucking angry."

His jaw tightened.

"I wanted Jason to hurt. I wanted all of them to."

You remembered, then. The nightmares. The endless loop. The way Eddie had to relive killing Jason and the others over and over again.

"I wanted every single one of them to know what it felt like."

His voice dropped lower. "I convinced myself they deserved it."

"...Maybe they did." He shrugged weakly. "But not forever."

You watched tears begin gathering in his eyes.

"I've had ten years to think about it."

His laugh came out broken this time. "You know what I realized?"

"I'm tired." The admission was barely louder than a whisper. "So are they."

He glanced toward the bedroom door. "I hear them, sweetheart."

Your brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"They don't scream anymore."

His eyes drifted toward the window. "They just..."

He searched for the words. "...wait."

Your own tears finally spilled over.

"They deserve better than waiting." His voice cracked on the last word.

"So do you."

"No." You crossed the room in two quick steps before kneeling in front of him. "My better is you."

Eddie smiled through wet eyes. "God..."

His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. "You make this so hard."

You leaned into his hand instinctively. "I don't want to lose you."

"I know."

"I don't know how to do this."

"I know."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I do."

He rested his forehead against yours. Eventually, Eddie took another shaky breath.

"When it's time..." He paused. "...I only want one thing."

You looked up at him. "What?"

A sad smile spread across his face. "I wanna see Wayne one last time."

He laughed quietly through the tears.

"Without worrying whether it's the last conversation we'll ever have."

His eyes drifted toward the bedroom window, somewhere beyond the glass.

"I just..." His voice nearly disappeared. "...I wanna tell him goodbye."

Morning arrived far too quickly. Golden sunlight spilled lazily through the bedroom curtains, warming the quilt tangled around the two of you while the old house creaked awake around you.

You were sprawled across the bed on your stomach, elbows propped beneath you while a mountain of books surrounded the both of you. Myrtle had apparently decided that if she was going to burden you with an impossible decision, she might as well provide enough reading material to make your eyes bleed.

Eddie had appointed himself your unofficial research assistant.

Which mostly consisted of lying half on top of you, his chin resting comfortably against your shoulder, while stealing your coffee every few minutes.

"You know," he said, turning another page of one particularly ancient-looking book, "witches really need to discover bullet points."

You snorted. "They're manuscripts."

"They're exhausting."

"You've read three paragraphs."

"I've suffered enough."

You reached back without looking and flicked him on the forehead.

He gasped dramatically. "Violence."

"You'll live."

"I literally won't."

You rolled your eyes. "You're unbelievable."

"I've been told."

His arm lazily tightened around your waist as he settled closer, pressing an absentminded kiss against your shoulder before returning to the book resting between the two of you.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the occasional turn of a page and the soft chirping of birds somewhere outside the window.

Book after book offered little more than fragmented stories. Accounts of rituals. Old prayers. Warnings. The occasional recipe that somehow involved rosemary and what you sincerely hoped wasn't grave dirt.

You sighed dramatically before reaching for yet another weathered leather-bound journal. "Please tell me this one's in English."

Eddie leaned over your shoulder. "...Questionable."

You opened it anyway. The handwriting was faded enough that parts of the ink had nearly disappeared altogether, forcing you to read each sentence twice before it finally made sense.

Halfway down the page, a phrase caught your attention.

You frowned. "...Wait."

Eddie looked up immediately. "What?"

You straightened slightly, rereading the passage.

"'The passage shall only be opened beneath an orange moon, when the veil between worlds grows thinnest, and the Keeper may safely guide wandering souls beyond the final crossroads.'"

Eddie blinked. "...Orange moon?"

You looked over at him. "I've never heard of that."

"Me neither."

You carefully closed the book before reaching toward the stack beside your nightstand, grabbing an old lunar calendar your aunt had apparently tucked beneath the rest of Myrtle's notes.

Months. Phases. Eclipses. Harvest moons. You skimmed through them as quickly as you could, but nothing.

"...Come on."

Your finger continued tracing down the page. Then, it stopped.

Your stomach dropped. "No..."

Eddie immediately sat up straighter. "What?"

You looked up at him slowly. "The orange moon."

He searched your face. "...When?"

"...Two days." The words barely left your mouth.

Finally, Eddie let out a quiet breath through his nose.

"...Guess Hecate doesn't waste much time."

You stared down at the calendar resting in your lap. Two days, forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours until the decision stopped being hypothetical.

Without thinking, your fingers found Eddie's hand beneath the blankets. He intertwined them immediately.

Neither of you acknowledged it because neither of you had to. The countdown had begun.

The next two days passed differently. Not because either of you pretended the ritual wasn't coming, but because neither of you wanted your final memories together to consist entirely of crying.

So, somewhere between breakfast and another failed attempt at deciphering Myrtle's handwriting, the two of you silently agreed to stop talking about it. At least for a little while.

Late that afternoon, you disappeared without much explanation. Eddie frowned from where he was stretched across the couch.

"You're being suspicious."

"I'm running errands."

"You hate errands."

"I know."

"...Now I'm more suspicious."

You only smiled. "I'll be back."

Nearly two hours later, the front door swung open with considerably more effort than you'd anticipated. "I'm home!"

Eddie looked up from the record he'd been flipping through. "Took you long eno—"

He stopped. Your arms were overflowing with paper bags.

"...Did you rob somebody?"

"Maybe."

He stood, immediately moving to help you before stopping when he noticed the logo stamped across one of the bags.

His eyebrows shot upward. "No..."

A grin spread across your face. "I figured ghosts still deserve comfort food."

For a second, he simply stared, then he laughed. "You went to Benny's?"

You nodded proudly. "The waitress thought I was insane."

"I mean..."

"I told her I had a family to feed."

His expression softened. "...You did?"

"I wasn't about to tell her I was buying a million cheeseburgers for my dead boyfriend."

"Probably the right call."

You laughed as you unpacked everything onto the kitchen table.  Cheeseburgers. Fries. A chocolate milkshake. Exactly like he had once told you he liked it.

"You remembered."

You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy. "You mentioned it once."

He looked between you and the food before shaking his head. "...You're unbelievable."

"No." You nudged the tray toward him. "I just listen."

A while later, once the milkshake had mysteriously disappeared despite Eddie insisting ghosts couldn't technically digest anything, you disappeared again.

He looked up suspiciously. "...Where are you going now?"

"No peeking."

"I wasn't—"

"You were absolutely going to peek."

He grinned. "Maybe."

You disappeared upstairs anyway. A minute later, you returned carrying something behind your back.

Eddie immediately narrowed his eyes. "...What'd you do?"

"Close your eyes."

"I don't trust that sentence."

"Eddie."

He sighed dramatically. "This relationship is built on coercion."

"Eyes."

"Fine."

He covered them with one hand. "The other one too."

"...You're demanding."

"You love me."

"I really do."

His other hand lifted. "Happy?"

"Very."

You stepped in front of him, taking one slow breath before bringing the object around from behind your back.

"...Okay."

He lowered his hands, and his smile disappeared. The guitar. His guitar. The battered Warlock sat in your hands exactly as Wayne had kept it all these years.

Fresh strings. The body is polished. Still scratched from years of use, and still unmistakably his.

Eddie didn't move. "...How?"

"I stopped by Wayne's."

His eyes never left it.

"He said..." You swallowed. "...he thought you'd want it."

Slowly, Eddie reached toward it. His fingertips brushed the black finish, like he was afraid it would disappear if he touched it too hard.

"I haven't..." His voice cracked. "I haven't seen this since..."

His eyes shimmered as he carefully took it from your hands. The guitar settled naturally against him, like it had never belonged anywhere else.

He ran his thumb across the familiar scratches near the bridge. "...I put that there."

A tiny laugh escaped him. "Gareth knocked over an amp."

Another scratch.

"...Jeff dropped a drum stand."

His smile grew. "I forgot about that."

You leaned quietly against the doorway, letting him rediscover pieces of himself one mark at a time.

Finally, he looked up. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You crossed the room until only a foot separated the two of you. "You haunted me."

He snorted through the tears threatening to spill. "Right."

"I fell in love with you anyway."

He set the guitar carefully against the couch before wrapping both arms around you, pulling you into him so tightly you could barely breathe. Neither of you spoke then.

You simply stood there in the middle of the living room while the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, holding each other as though time itself had decided to slow down.

After a long moment, Eddie pulled back just enough to look at you. "...Wanna hear something?"

You smiled. "Always."

He reached for the guitar again, settling onto the couch with it across his lap. His fingers found the strings instinctively as the first chord rang through the old house.

"So..." he said, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across his face. "Think you know me that well?"

You narrowed your eyes. "I know that's never a good sentence."

"We're playing a game."

"I don't like the way you say that."

"You'll survive."

"I might not."

"You'll be fine."

He gave the strings a quick strum before settling his fingers near the top of the neck. "Opening riffs only."

You blinked. "...That's the game?"

"You guess the song."

You laughed.

"You're kidding."

"I'm absolutely not."

"What do I get if I win?"

He pretended to think about it. "...One kiss."

You snorted. "I get those anyway."

"Damn." He sighed dramatically. "Alright."

"...Two kisses."

"Now we're talking."

Eddie rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile before looking down at the guitar. "You ready?"

You nodded. Without another word, he played four quick notes.

You didn't even hesitate. "'Sweet Child O' Mine.'"

His head immediately snapped up. "...Lucky guess."

"It wasn't."

"Hm."

He shrugged before launching into another. This one took you maybe two seconds.

"'Livin' on a Prayer.'"

"...Okay."

Another.

"'Crazy Train.'"

Another.

"'Don't Fear the Reaper.'"

Another.

"'Every Breath You Take.'"

Another.

"'Carry On Wayward Son.'"

Eddie slowly lowered the guitar.

"...What."

You smiled innocently. "What?"

"How?"

"What do you mean, how?"

"You answered before I even finished playing."

You shrugged one shoulder. "I like music."

"No." He pointed accusingly with the neck of the guitar. "That's suspicious."

"It isn't."

"It absolutely is."

"I listened to your tapes."

"My..."

He blinked. "...My tapes?"

You nodded. "The ones in your room at Wayne’s."

His eyebrows climbed even higher. "You talked to Wayne?"

"He likes to talk."

"He really does."

"And..."

You smiled sheepishly. "I wanted to know what you liked."

Eddie simply stared at you. "...What?"

He shook his head once. "You've been doing homework."

"I have not."

"You researched me."

"I did no such thing."

"You absolutely did."

"I was gathering information."

He barked out a laugh. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

"You are..." He rubbed a hand over his face. "...ridiculously adorable."

"I'm literally sitting here beating you."

"I know."

"And you're calling me adorable."

"I am.”

He set the guitar carefully beside the couch before reaching forward and taking both of your hands.

"I don't think anybody's ever cared enough to learn me."

"I wanted to."

His thumb brushed over your knuckles. "I noticed."

You smiled. "Wanna keep going?"

Eddie looked at you for another second before picking the guitar back up. "...Yeah."

He grinned. "But now I'm picking harder songs."

"You'll still lose."

"We'll see about that."

Five songs later...he was, in fact, still losing.

"You've gotta be cheating," he groaned, dropping his head dramatically against the back of the couch.

You laughed so hard your stomach hurt. "I'm not cheating."

"You got Hotel California in three notes."

"It was four."

"That is not helping your case."

"It was the chord progression."

"You are such a nerd."

"So are you."

"...Yeah."

By the time night rolled around, you and Eddie were tangled together on your bed, watching The Princess Bride for what had to be the fourth time since you'd moved into the house.

"It is physically impossible," Eddie declared, pointing accusingly at the television, "for one movie to have this much charisma."

You smiled into his shoulder. "You've said that every single time we've watched it."

"And every single time I've been right."

He adjusted the blanket draped over the two of you before absentmindedly tracing circles against your forearm. You smiled into his shoulder, the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat steady against your cheek as Inigo Montoya dueled on the screen. 

Eddie’s fingers kept tracing lazy circles on your arm, but the touch grew slower, more deliberate, until it wasn’t absentminded anymore. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your face toward his.

“You’re staring at me instead of the movie again,” you whispered.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “You’re better than any story.”

He kissed you then; soft at first, a brush of lips that quickly deepened with the kind of hunger that came from knowing time was slipping away.

You shifted closer, legs tangling tighter under the blanket as his tongue swept into your mouth. Your hands found his hair, fingers threading through those dark curls you loved so much, tugging gently.

He groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you. “God, I love you,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. 

His eyes, those warm, expressive eyes, held yours with an intensity that made your chest ache. “More than anything.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat. You kissed him harder this time, pouring everything into it: the fear, the devotion, the way your heart felt like it was cracking open just looking at him.

Eddie rolled you beneath him with careful strength, the blanket falling away as he settled between your thighs. 

He took his time undressing you, reverent hands sliding your shirt up and over your head, lips following the path of exposed skin. Every kiss was punctuated with soft declarations: “I love this spot right here,” against your collarbone, “and this one,” against the curve of your breast.

When he closed his mouth over your nipple, sucking gently while his tongue flicked, you arched into him with a needy whimper.

Your fingers worked at his clothes in return until he was bare above you, skin warm and flushed. He was already hard, pressing against your thigh, but he didn’t rush.

Instead, he hooked your leg over his hip and rocked slowly against you, letting you feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Eddie…” You reached down, wrapping your hand around him, stroking with long, loving pulls that drew shaky breaths from his chest.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before locking back on yours. “Need to feel you.”

He peeled your panties down your legs, then slid two fingers through your folds, finding you slick and ready.

He circled your clit with practiced care, teasing until your hips bucked, before pushing inside you; slow, deep, curling just right. The slight stretch made you moan his name like a prayer.

When he finally replaced his fingers with his cock, sinking into you inch by inch, the world narrowed to just the two of you. He filled you completely, pausing once he was buried to the hilt so you could both savor it.

His arms bracketed your head; he kissed you deeply as he started to move long, rolling thrusts that built heat between you like magic.

“I love you,” he panted against your mouth with every thrust. “Love you so fucking much.”

You wrapped your legs around him, heels digging into his back to pull him deeper. One of your hands stayed tangled in his hair, tugging harder now as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly.

He responded with a low growl, hips snapping a little sharper, a little more desperate, but still so full of adoration. His free hand slid down to grip your ass, holding you right where he wanted you as he drove into you with passionate, steady rhythm.

“Look at me,” he whispered when your eyes started to close. “Want to see you when you come.”

You did, gazing into his eyes as the pleasure crested. Your walls clenched around him, thighs trembling, and you cried out his name as the orgasm washed over you in deep, rolling waves.

Eddie followed moments later, burying his face in your neck with a broken moan of “I love you,” hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

Afterward, he stayed there, still buried deep, holding you close while your breathing slowed. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin again, and he pressed soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, your lips.

“I mean it, y’know.” He whispered, forehead pressed to yours.

You nodded, “I know.”

The following morning, your mother announced over breakfast that the three of you were leaving for the day.

You looked up from your coffee. "...We are?"

She nodded matter-of-factly as she buttered a piece of toast. "Mhm."

"Where?"

"Wherever."

You blinked. "...That's not a place."

"It is today."

Your aunt hid a smile behind her mug. "We thought we'd go into town."

"Get lunch."

"Walk around."

"Maybe stop by Myrtle's."

You looked between the two of them suspiciously. "...You're kicking us out."

Your mother laughed. "No."

"You absolutely are."

She reached over and patted your hand. "We're giving the boys some privacy."

Eddie nearly choked on his coffee. "'The boys?'"

She smiled sweetly. "You and Wayne."

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...You don't have to do that."

"We know."

Your aunt reached for her purse. "Which is exactly why we want to."

Just after noon, the familiar rumble of Wayne's truck echoed up the driveway. Eddie was already on the porch before the engine had even shut off. Wayne climbed out with the kind of grin that immediately made Eddie suspicious.

"...What?"

"Nothin'."

"You've got the face."

"What face?"

"The one that says you're up to something."

Wayne chuckled before walking around to the bed of the truck. "I figured..."

He dropped the tailgate with a metallic clang. "...we'd take a little trip down memory lane."

Eddie's eyebrows shot upward. The truck bed was packed with cardboard boxes, plastic storage bins, an old milk crate overflowing with cassette tapes, a guitar stand, and even a faded tackle box.

"...Wayne."

"I've been collecting this stuff for ten years."

He grabbed the first box with a grunt. "Figured you oughta see it."

By then, you, your mother, and your aunt had made your way onto the porch.

Your mother smiled. "We'll be back before dinner."

Wayne looked over. "You sure?"

She nodded. "Take your time."

Your aunt gave Eddie a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as she passed "We'll leave the house to the two of you."

Eddie smiled softly. "...Thank you."

"No thanks necessary."

Your mother jingled the car keys. "You only get so many afternoons with family." 

You pursed your lips together and shot her a look as Eddie’s eyes darted to his shoes. Then your mother deliberately clapped her hands together.

"Come on." She looped her arm through yours. "Let's go spend an irresponsible amount of money at the bookstore."

You laughed. "I thought we were getting lunch."

"We can do both."

"And antiques," your aunt added.

"Ooh, antiques."

By the time the three of you climbed into the car, Wayne had already set the first box on the porch. You glanced back through the passenger window just as Eddie crouched beside it as Wayne carefully peeled back the flaps. 

The very first thing inside was an old Polaroid. A scrawny, curly-haired twelve-year-old Eddie stood in the middle of the trailer living room wearing an oversized leather jacket, one hand wrapped around a broom like it was a guitar.

Wayne burst out laughing. "Oh, Lord."

Eddie groaned loud enough for you to hear through the closed car window. "...Burn it."

"Absolutely not."

"You promised me nobody would ever see that!"

"I most certainly did not."

Your mother smiled as she shifted the car into reverse.

"You know..." She watched them in the rearview mirror. "I think they'll be alright today."

You looked back one last time. Wayne was already digging into another box while Eddie leaned over his shoulder, laughing despite himself.

By the time the front door clicked shut behind your car, Wayne had already opened three boxes. The living room looked as though someone had emptied an entire lifetime across the floor.

Photo albums sat open beside stacks of cassette tapes. Old Hellfire binders had been spread across the coffee table. Concert tickets, campaign notes, guitar picks, bent bottle caps Eddie had apparently insisted on keeping for reasons he could no longer remember.

"You really kept all this junk?" Eddie laughed, holding up a cracked pair of sunglasses.

Wayne snorted. "I was hopin' you'd finally decide to throw it out."

"Never."

"You've been a pack rat since you were ten."

"It's called being sentimental."

"It's called havin' a problem."

Eddie rolled his eyes before tossing the sunglasses onto the couch. The afternoon passed easier than either of them expected. Wayne showed him photographs he'd forgotten existed.

Embarrassing school pictures, Halloween costumes, A birthday cake that had collapsed before the candles were lit. A blurry photo of Corroded Coffin crammed into Gareth's parents' garage, all four of them grinning like idiots.

Eddie laughed so hard his stomach hurt. "I remember that!"

"Jeff broke your amp."

"He dropped it!"

"He sat on it."

"I told him not to!"

"You also told him it'd hold."

"...Fair point."

For a few hours, it almost felt like they were making up for ten years in a single afternoon. The laughter faded as the sun began sinking lower outside. Most of the boxes had been emptied, and only one remained. Neither of them was in a rush to reach for it.

Wayne leaned back in the armchair with a tired groan, rubbing his hands together. "So."

Eddie looked over. "So."

Wayne studied him for a long time. "...Somethin's been eatin' at you."

Eddie tried to smile. "Nothin' gets past you."

"It never has."

Eddie stared at the floor. "...I probably oughta tell you."

Eddie took a slow breath.

"The ritual..." His throat tightened. "...it's tomorrow night."

Wayne's face didn't change.

"The witch who started all this..."

Eddie continued quietly. "...she finally figured out how to send everybody across."

"The others?"

"Everybody…The kids from my school. The soldiers. The old couple."

He swallowed. "...Me."

Wayne closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were glistening.

"So..." His voice came out rough. "...This is goodbye."

"I think so."

Wayne let out a shaky breath. "You know..."

He looked toward the family photos scattered across the coffee table. "I used to be so damn angry."

Eddie frowned. "At who?"

"Everybody."

He gave a humorless laugh.

"The police. The town. Hell, myself."

He rubbed his palms against his jeans. "Thought maybe if I'd looked harder..."

His voice cracked. "...I'd have found you."

Eddie's eyes immediately filled. "Wayne..."

"But then you came back." Wayne smiled sadly. "And I got more time."

"Not as much time as I wanted, but time all the same."

Eddie quickly looked away before the tears could spill. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I left you alone."

"You didn't choose that."

"I know." His voice broke. "...But I still hate it."

Wayne stood slowly from his chair, crossed the room, and without a word, pulled Eddie into a hug. Eddie clung to him immediately.

"I'm gonna miss you."

Wayne squeezed him tighter. "I know."

"I don't wanna leave you again."

"I know."

"I finally got you back."

Wayne swallowed hard. "...Yeah."

Finally, Wayne pulled back just enough to cup Eddie's face the way he had when Eddie was still just a kid.

"You listen to me."

Eddie nodded.

"When you get where you're goin'..."

His voice wavered despite every effort to steady it. "...You tell your mama I said hello."

Wayne smiled through tears.

"And tell her..." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "...Tell her I did my best."

That finally broke Eddie. Fresh tears spilled freely as he shook his head. "You did more than your best."

Wayne smiled. "You grew up alright."

"I grew up because of you."

Wayne reached up, brushing one of Eddie's curls back from his forehead. "I've been proud of you every single day."

Eddie closed his eyes. "...Even after..."

"Especially after."

Wayne's answer came without hesitation. "You spent your whole life thinkin' people saw the worst in you."

He squeezed Eddie's shoulder. "I never did."

"And if you happen to run into your daddy..."

Eddie raised an eyebrow.

"...Don't tell him I said hello."

A surprised laugh escaped Eddie through his tears. "I can do that."

"Damn right you can."

By the time night settled over the old house, everything had already been prepared.

Your aunt had spent the better part of the afternoon painting careful symbols across the worn wooden floor of the parlor, each one copied painstakingly from Myrtle's journals.

Fresh bundles of rosemary and mugwort had been tied together with twine and placed at each point of the circle, their earthy scent mingling with melted candle wax until the entire room smelled ancient. 

Outside, the moon hung low over the trees. Orange, just as the books had promised.

"You don't have to rush." Your mother insisted. 

You nodded absently, though you weren't listening. Across the room, Eddie was already watching you. The second your eyes met, everything else faded into the background.

You crossed the room without thinking, stopping only when your hands found his. His fingers laced between yours automatically, as if they'd been practicing that motion your entire relationship.

"I'm scared," you admitted quietly.

"I know."

"I keep thinking if I wait another day..."

He smiled sadly. "You'll think the same thing tomorrow."

A tear slipped down your cheek. "I hate that you're right."

He lifted a hand, brushing it away with his thumb. "I know."

"I don't want this to be the last time I touch you."

"It won't be."

You looked up at him, and he rested his forehead against yours. "You'll carry me around for the rest of your life whether you like it or not."

"You are unbelievably cocky."

"I've been told."

"You've haunted me for almost a year, and you're still flirting."

"I've got a reputation to maintain."

Your laugh broke into another sob before you could stop it.

"I'm sorry."

"No..." You shook your head. "...Don't apologize."

You reached up, cupping his face in both hands as though trying to memorize every curve of it.

"I just..." Your voice trembled. "...I love you so much."

His eyes filled almost instantly. "I know."

You smiled through tears. "You don't get to answer with 'I know.'"

"Fair." He swallowed. "I love you too."

"I think..." His voice caught for only a moment. "...I think I've loved you since the first cigarette."

You laughed wetly. "The one you stole?"

"I borrowed."

"You absolutely stole it."

"I intended to give it back."

"You can't give back a smoked cigarette."

"I could've bought you another."

"You didn't."

"I was poor."

"You were dead."

"That too."

Eddie leaned down and kissed you slowly, like he was committing every inch of feeling and skin to memory. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours once more.

"I need you to promise me something."

You frowned. "What?"

"You keep living."

"Eddie..."

"I'm serious."

His voice remained gentle. "You don't spend the rest of your life wondering what would've happened if you'd waited."

Another tear escaped him. "You gave me more happiness in a few months than I ever thought I'd get."

He smiled. "That's enough."

"It isn't enough for me."

"I know."

"I wanted decades."

"So did I."

You wrapped your arms around him, and he held you for what felt like forever.

Eventually, your aunt's voice broke the silence. "It's time."

Your mother quietly approached, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll be right here."

You nodded once as you, reluctantly, stepped into the center of the circle.

Your aunt handed you the worn grimoire Myrtle had entrusted to you before taking her own place just beyond the markings. Your mother stood opposite her, each holding a bundle of burning herbs, ready to intervene if the ritual turned against you.

Eddie remained just outside the circle, close enough that your fingers still brushed when you reached toward him.

"I'll stay until I can't."

You nodded. "I know."

Taking one final breath, you opened the book. As the first incantation left your lips, the room shifted. The candles flared. A sudden wind swept through the house despite every window remaining shut, extinguishing none of the flames while every loose page trembled violently.

The symbols your aunt had painted began glowing softly, their pale light weaving together until the circle shimmered around you.

You continued reading, your voice growing steadier with each line. Like taking attendance, the house answered. One by one, the ghosts appeared.

The little girl with the ribbon in her hair stood near the staircase, clutching the rag doll you'd seen so many times before. The elderly couple emerged hand in hand. The soldiers. The children. The nameless faces that had wandered the halls for generations. Even Jason.

Dozens, then hundreds. The room filled until every corner of the old house seemed occupied, every spirit quietly facing the circle, waiting. You looked toward Eddie, and he looked back with no fear in his expression, simply peace.

The final page turned beneath your trembling fingers. The instant the final syllable echoed through the room, the orange moonlight pouring through the windows intensified until the entire house glowed.

The floor shook. The candles burned impossibly bright. For one breathtaking moment, every spirit in the room seemed wrapped in warm golden light,  as though something unimaginably heavy had finally been lifted.

You looked desperately toward Eddie. "I love you," you whispered.

His eyes never left yours. "I know."

Then he laughed softly. "...I love you too."

Almost like a cruel joke, the golden light swallowed him first. Then the others, one after another. Afterward, the room grew impossibly still.

You blinked through your tears and noticed a feeling you hadn’t had since moving into this house. It was completely empty. The place where Eddie had been standing was empty. Every spirit was gone.

That strange whisperlike buzz was gone from your ears. Only then did you realize that the house was finally at peace. 

The constant feeling of being watched had disappeared. The floorboards still creaked with age, pipes still groaned when the weather changed, and the windows still rattled whenever a storm rolled through the valley, but none of it carried the weight it once had.

You hadn't realized just how loud the house had been until it finally learned how to be quiet. The first few days were the hardest. Your mother and aunt never once tried to rush your grief.

They didn't tell you he was in a better place. They didn't tell you it had happened for a reason. They simply sat beside you.

Sometimes your mother held you while you cried so hard your ribs hurt. Other nights, your aunt silently left mugs of tea outside your bedroom door because she knew you weren't ready to come downstairs. 

There were mornings when you couldn't bear to look at the couch because you could still picture Eddie sitting there with his guitar across his lap, and afternoons when you caught yourself carrying home enough food for two before remembering.

Weeks turned into months. The flowers your mother planted outside the porch began blooming. Summer slowly gave way to autumn. The orange leaves eventually replaced the bright green ones that had shaded the yard the day you met him.

Life continued, just like Eddie had asked you to.

You returned to Myrtle's shop every now and then, helping organize books or learning new remedies simply because it made you feel close to the part of your life that had changed everything. You and your aunt spent evenings experimenting with spells that had nothing to do with death and everything to do with healing. 

Wayne still visited almost every Sunday. At first, the two of you mostly sat in silence on the porch. Eventually, silence turned into stories, and stories turned into laughter.

Sometimes he'd bring one of Eddie's old cassette tapes, and the two of you would sit in the living room listening to music while Wayne told you what an absolute menace Eddie had been as a teenager.

"He convinced me there was a bat livin' in the trailer."

"There wasn't?"

"There was."

You blinked. "...Then why was it a prank?"

"'Cause he'd put it there."

You laughed until your stomach hurt. "He what?"

"Don't ask."

One ordinary Tuesday evening, you stood in your bedroom deciding between two sweaters before dinner. Your hair was still damp from your shower, music drifted faintly from the radio downstairs, and through the open window you could hear your mother and aunt laughing somewhere in the garden.

You reached for the black sweater hanging inside your closet when every hair on your arms suddenly stood upright.

Your breath caught. The same feeling you'd experienced every single time a spirit entered a room. 

You swallowed. "If someone's there..."

Your voice came out steadier than you felt. "...show yourself."

Silence followed, so you listened carefully. But no response.  You almost convinced yourself you'd imagined it.

"So bossy."

Your heart stopped.

A familiar soft chuckle filled the room. "...Hey, sweetheart."

You spun around so quickly the sweater slipped from your hands. Eddie stood beside the bedroom door exactly as you remembered him. Your brain refused to believe what your heart had already recognized.

Then the first sob escaped your chest. "Eddie..."

He smiled. "Oh, don't do that."

His own voice cracked immediately. "'Cause if you start cryin'..."

A tear rolled down his cheek. "...I'm gonna start too."

You crossed the room so fast you nearly tripped over the rug, and he met you halfway. The second your arms wrapped around him, you felt him. Actually felt him.

You buried your face against his neck and cried harder than you had the night he left. He held you just as tightly.

"I missed you."

"I know."

"I missed you every day."

"I know."

"I still talk to you."

"I heard."

You pulled back just enough to look at him. "...You did?"

He smiled. "You always picked the prettiest flowers."

Fresh tears spilled down your face. "You were there?"

"Not like that." He shook his head gently. "But..."

His smile grew softer. "I heard enough."

You searched his face desperately, afraid that if you blinked he'd disappear again. "How?"

He laughed quietly. "I had to ask a lot."

"You... asked?"

"Hecate."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think she got tired of me."

A watery laugh escaped you. "That sounds about right."

"I might've been... persistent."

"You?"

"I know."

You reached up, touching his cheek just to reassure yourself he was still there. "What happened?"

"So much." He looked down at your joined hands before meeting your eyes again. "I found my mom."

A smile spread across his face unlike anything you'd ever seen. "It was her."

His eyes filled again. "The first person I saw."

He laughed softly through his tears. "She looked exactly the same. She hugged me before I even said anything."

He shook his head, overwhelmed by the memory. "She just..."

"...She kept saying how sorry she was that she couldn't stay."

"What about Wayne?"

Eddie nodded immediately. "I told her."

"What did she say?"

He smiled. "She cried."

You laughed through your own tears. "I figured."

"And..." He squeezed your hand. "...She wanted me to tell you thank you."

You frowned. "For what?"

"For loving her son when he couldn't."

You closed your eyes. "He always could."

"I know."

“How long? How long do we have?”

He shrugged, looking around the room. "Long enough."

You gave him a look. "Eddie."

"What?"

"That's not an answer."

He smiled. "It kinda is."

You folded your arms. "I've missed you for six months."

"I know."

"You don't get to be mysterious."

He laughed quietly. "Fair."

He rocked back on his heels before rubbing the back of his neck. "...Truth is..."

He looked at you with that same gentle smile you'd fallen in love with months ago. "...' Selflessness deserves to be honored.' As I was told."

Your heart squeezed. "Wha— She…said that?"

He nodded. "You gave up the person you loved to save people you'd never met."

His eyes grew glossy. "And I chose to leave with them instead of asking you to keep us here."

He reached for your hand. "She called it..."

His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles. "...a gift of selflessness."

You stared at him. "So this..."

"...Is her gift." He finished for you.

"And..." He pointed toward you. "...She also said something else."

"What?"

He grinned. "Congratulations."

You frowned. "...On?"

"You're stuck with ghosts."

Your mouth fell open. "What?"

"You heard me."

He looked far too pleased with himself. "Apparently, becoming Hecate's apprentice wasn't exactly a temporary arrangement."

"Eddie."

"I'm serious."

"I thought once everyone crossed over—"

"They did."

"But..." He gestured vaguely toward the ceiling. "...People still die."

You blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

He nodded sympathetically. "So every once in a while..."

He smiled. "...Somebody might need a little help finding the right door."

You stared at him. "So I'm..."

"A psychopomp."

"A what?"

"A guide."

He shrugged. "Sort of."

"You know that word?"

"I've had six months."

"So..." You looked around the room. "...Now what?"

"Now..." He glanced toward the bedroom window.  "...You keep doing what you've been doing."

"Helping people?"

"Mhm."

"Annoying Wayne every Sunday."

You laughed. "He likes when I annoy him."

"He really does."

"And..." He pointed toward the bookshelf. "...Maybe don't buy every occult book you see."

"I make no promises."

"I figured."

Before either of you could say anything else, a knock sounded softly against your bedroom door. "Come in," you called.

The door opened just enough for your aunt to poke her head inside. She took one look at the room.

A slow smile spread across her face. "Well, well, well."

Eddie immediately rubbed the back of his neck. "...Hi."

Your aunt leaned casually against the doorframe like finding your undead-dead boyfriend standing in your bedroom was only mildly surprising.

"I had a feeling."

You blinked. "You... did?"

She nodded toward Eddie. "The wards around the house shifted."

Then she looked back at him with an amused expression. "I suppose Hecate finally decided to stop pretending she doesn't have a soft spot."

hey so im actually NOT okay.

hope you all enjoyed!!! cute fic coming soon as an apology hehe.

taglist:

you were sitting lazily on the couch in your bikini, watching some random movie you’d found lying around while you waited for your boyfriend to return when you heard the front door to your shared home open.

“babe!” steve called out, stepping inside and kicking the heavy wooden door shut behind him. “c’mere. i want you to try something.”

your brows furrowed in confusion as you got up, your socked feet padding along the wooden floor over to him. “hi, baby,” you smiled sweetly, pecking his lips and taking a seat at the high chair beside the marbled island. “what is it?”

he slid over a bag of colorful squares. “you look pretty,” he grinned, his hand lingering around your waist. “so i went with eddie this morning to run some errands and we stopped by that smoke shop he’s always talking about. he convinced me to get these little chocolates and they’re really good. you’ve gotta try ‘em,” he explained excitedly, taking one out and biting into it. he almost moaned at the taste. “so good. i thought it was kinda expensive for this little bag of candy though.”

you hummed as you picked one from the plastic, examining it with uncertainty etched in your features. hesitantly, you bit off one of the corners. it was delicious. “wow. oh my god. yeah, these are really good.”

steve nodded along with a proud grin. “told you,” he bragged, his fingers lightly digging into the bare skin of your waist while his free hand grabbed another piece. “you should come check it out with us next time. they had some other pretty cool flavors.”

you plucked another piece from the plastic and unwrapped it, popping it into your mouth. “mhm. i’d love to,” you said with a warm smile before gently poking at his side. “now hurry up and go change before the sun goes away and the water gets cold.”

he cupped the side of your head to bring it closer to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. “yes ma’am,” he quipped, grabbing a piece of chocolate for the road before jogging up the stairs to get changed into his swim trunks.

it had only taken an hour for the effects to start kicking in with him.

you’d been playing around, splashing in the water with him to cool off from the beaming sun, when something in his eyes shifted. the pretty brown was almost completely overshadowed by the black of his pupils.

steve was crossing the pool in a few, long strides. his hands were already sliding around your waist in the water, his chest pressing into your back as the pool lights rippled beneath the surface. you felt his breath hot against your neck before his mouth followed, open and wet, dragging slow kisses along your shoulder.

“stevie,” you giggled, twisting a little in his arms. “what are you doing?”

he didn’t answer right away. his lips kept moving, sucking lightly at your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver but not enough to leave a real mark. “just wanna hold you,” he mumbled against your collarbone, voice already rough. his fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him.

that’s when you felt it—thick, heavy, and unmistakably hard pressing against your ass through his trunks. your breath caught in your throat. steve let out a shaky exhale and curled tighter around you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“mmph. fuck… i need to be inside you, honey,” he whispered, almost pleading. “please. right now. i can’t—fuck, i’m so hard it hurts.”

he was fully rolling his hips into you now, seeking any sort of temporary relief. you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress the whimper crawling up your throat. “stevie, baby,” you breathed, feeling a similar heat start to burn deep in your stomach. “what if someone sees?”

“fences,” was all he could whimper out as his hands kneaded at the soft skin of your bare waist. the bikini you were wearing wasn’t helping his little predicament either. you just looked so fucking sexy like this. “please. just need to feel you.”

before you could answer, his hand was already tugging at his waistband. he shoved his trunks down just enough to free his cock, the length of it springing free in the water. one quick motion and he hooked his fingers into your bikini bottoms, yanking them to the side. the head of his cock nudged against your entrance, hot and insistent.

steve pushed in with one desperate thrust. a loud, broken moan tore out of him the second he sank deep inside of you, his whole body shuddering behind you. “oh my god—fuck, you’re so warm. so fucking tight.” his arms locked around your middle, holding you still while he buried himself to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix.

a choked gasp left your lips at the sudden intrusion, your thighs squeezing together and your hand reaching back to claw at steve’s thigh. you were entirely too full. “mph! baby— holy shit! fuck!”

he didn’t wait. his hips started rocking immediately, short, needy thrusts that made the water softly splash around you. one hand slid up to cup your breast through your top, squeezing, thumb rubbing over your peaked nipple. the other stayed low, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks as he fucked into you with frantic, hungry strokes.

“need you so bad, honey,” he panted against your ear, voice cracking with desire. “hmph! can’t stop. feels too good. you feel so fucking good around me.” his mouth found your neck again, sucking and biting between every thrust, completely lost in the sudden, overwhelming need to be buried inside you.

the chocolates have him wrecked—his cock buried deep inside your pussy, hips snapping forward in quick, desperate thrusts that send you jolting forward slightly each time. he’s moaning loud and completely carefree, whimpering your name like he’s losing his mind, every punch against your cervix harder than the last.

“fuck, baby— your pussy’s so fucking addictive,” he groans against your neck, voice trembling. “can’t stop— this pussy’s too good, shit, i need it, need you.” his hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up to squeeze your tits, fingers digging into your ass as he pulls you down onto his cock over and over. “please—just fuckin’ take it, take all of me. just let me fuck this pretty pussy.”

he doesn’t wait for a response, not that you can really speak right now anyway. steve spins you around, lifts you easily, and carries you to the pool steps. he sits down on the lower step so the water laps at his waist, then pulls you onto his lap, settling your legs on either side of his thighs. his cock slides back inside your dripping cunt in one smooth thrust and he starts fucking up into you hard, hips driving upward while he drags you down to meet every stroke.

“oh!— yes! yes, yes, yes,” you cried out brokenly, clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to ground yourself. “feels so good, stevie. so— so big!”

his mouth finds yours in a sloppy, messy kiss—tongues sliding, spit mixing, both of you panting into each other. steve’s eyes are glassy, drunk on the feeling of your cunt squeezing him. “so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against your lips between thrusts. “can’t get enough of this pretty pussy. so warm and wet f’me. need to keep fucking you like this.”

every upward snap of his hips punches a moan out of both of you, his grip on your waist bruising as he uses your body to chase the overwhelming pleasure the chocolates have forced on him.

one of his hands slides down your body, fingers finding your clit under the water, rubbing tight circles as he keeps thrusting up into you on the pool steps.

“please, baby— cum for me, squeeze my fucking cock, i need it so bad,” he begs, voice hoarse and desperate, hips snapping faster. the pressure builds fast and you bite down hard on his shoulder when you finally cum, a muffled cry vibrating against his skin while your pussy clamps down around him.

he groans loud, holding you through it, but the need doesn’t fade. “there you go, baby. fuck— just fucking sucking me back in, huh?”

you’re practically limp in his arms now, choking out small gasps and whimpers each time he hit that gummy spot inside of you. you’ve completely lost the ability to speak as he fucks up into you forcefully.

“shit— holy shit, honey. i’m coming! fuck, i’m coming!” he pressed his hips up into you as tight as he could as his mouth came down on yours, hot and desperate, licking at your tongue and sucking on it hungrily.

soft whimpers spilled from deep in his throat, thick ropes of hot cum filling up your spent hole. you couldn’t help but moan into the wet cavern of his mouth when you felt just how much of the milky liquid was being pumped into you, absolutely filling you to the brim and beginning to leak out around him.

you pulled away for air, eyes blown wide and dazed as you looked at steve. he had the same look on his face with a lopsided grin to accompany it.

your skin began to felt too tight, your pulse pounding between your legs, and every brush of steve’s hand made you ache worse. you glanced at him again—his swim trunks still half down, his cock half-hard again already— and the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“stevie… shower with me?” you asked, voice small and shy even though your thighs were slick from the mess you two had created together.

he pressed a sweet kiss to your palm and tucked himself back into his swim trunks, nodding and taking deep breaths to get his composure back. “yeah. yeah, i’ll be up in a minute.”

you climbed off of him and slowly stepped out of the water on shaky legs, draping a towel around yourself. it was no match against the droplets of water running down your legs onto the polished floors. the second the cold air hit your sun-kissed skin, the desire sparked in the pit of your stomach again. only this time, it was so much worse.

it only took a few minutes for steve to join you in the bathroom. the second the door behind shut him and he stepped into the shower behind you, you turned to face him, pushing your dripping hair back away from your face and dropping to your knees. “woah, baby? what are you—“ his cock bobbed heavily in front of your face, already hardening fast. you wrapped your lips around the head and sucked him in deep, moaning at the taste of him mixed with pool water.

steve groaned loudly, one hand flying to the back of your head. “oh, fuck—baby, that’s it,” he gasped, hips twitching forward. you took him deeper, bobbing your head while your free hand slid between your own legs. two fingers pushed straight into your pussy, fucking yourself in time with the way you sucked him. he cried out when his gaze followed your hand down your body, watching the way it disappeared between your legs. “sucking my fat cock turns you on, honey? fuck! hmph! y’look so fucking pretty on your knees f’me.” wet, obscene sounds filled the shower as you fingered yourself harder, clit throbbing against your palm.

he was fully hard now, thick, warm, and heavy on your tongue. you slowly pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to his cock, then stood and turned around. palms flat against the shower wall, you pushed your ass back. “need you so bad, stevie. please.”

he didn’t hesitate. he yanked your hips closer to his, lined up, and pushed into you in one devastating slow thrust.

“oh! yes, please! right there,” you cried out, forehead pressing to the tile as he started pounding. his hips snapped forward again and again, drilling deep, the wet slap of skin echoing off the walls. water streamed over both of you while he fucked you hard, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit in fast circles.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, voice completely wrecked. “pretty pussy’s taking me so deep— fuck, i can’t stop.” every thrust punched the air out of your lungs. he leaned over your back, biting at your shoulder, pounding into you with frantic, desperate strokes that made your legs shake. you kept fingering yourself even as he fucked you, two fingers buried inside alongside his cock, stretching you wider while he drilled harder and harder.

it was all too much. the stretch, the fullness, all of it. your hand moved instead to brace yourself against the wall. you clenched around him and his pace falters, his thrusts turning slower, deeper, each one dragging through your soaked pussy like he’s savoring every inch. water streams down his back while he presses his forehead to your shoulder, panting hard. “fuck… mhm, baby, i’m gonna cum again,” he mumbles against your wet skin, voice shaky and wrecked. his hips roll forward in a lazy grind, cock pulsing inside you as he fights to hold back. “feels too good—can’t stop, don’t wanna stop.”

he whimpers when you clench around him again, the sound raw and needy. “keep fucking yourself on your fingers, pretty girl,” he begs, one hand sliding down to guide your own fingers back to your puffy clit and pussy. “please, just like that— oh, wanna watch you stretch yourself while i’m inside you.”

you obey, sliding two fingers in alongside his cock once more, pumping them in time with his slow, deliberate thrusts. the stretch is filty and obscene, your walls straining around both him and your fingers, the burn sharp and perfect. steve groans loud, punching deeper on the next thrust, the head of his cock nudging right against your cervix. it still hurts—too much, too thick, too deep—but the ache only makes you hungrier. you can’t stop grinding back, chasing that painful fullness even as your body trembles from the intensity.

his thick, toned arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you flush against him like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “gonna fill you up so good, baby,” he whimpers, hips stuttering as he fights the edge. every slow thrust pushes his cock impossibly deeper, the stretch making your eyes roll back. you keep working your fingers in rhythm with him, the wet sounds of your pussy echoing off the tile.

his breathing turns ragged, his grip bruising. “can’t hold it—fuck, baby, need you to cum for me,” he mumbles desperately. the moment your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes, pussy fluttering and clamping hard around his cock and your fingers. steve cries out, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you, hot pulses flooding deep while he holds you tight through every tremor.

the shower doesn’t last long against the burning desire within each of you. he’s quickly turning the stream off and guiding you onto the bed with shaky hands, still dripping, his eyes glassy with need. he drops between your spread thighs without a word, pressing his mouth straight to your cum-slick pussy. the first taste rips a broken moan from his throat—loud, desperate, almost pained. he licks at you broad and hungry, tongue pushing inside to scoop out the thick mess he left there earlier, groaning into your folds like he can’t get enough.

“o—oh! stevie, so good,” you babbled mindlessly, your hands making a home in his damp hair. “mmph! feels so fucking good, baby.”

his lips seal around your clit, sucking hard while two fingers slide back into your soaked heat, pumping slow and deep. every slurp is wet and filthy, his tongue lapping at your entrance, circling, then thrusting back in to chase more of his own cum. he strokes himself with his free hand, fist tight around his cock, hips jerking into his own grip as he makes out with your pussy like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“fuck, baby—your pussy tastes so fucking good with my cum inside her, could stay right here for hours,” he whines against your skin, voice muffled and broken. his tongue drags through your folds again, collecting every drop before pushing it back inside you with his fingers. he moans louder, the sound vibrating through your core, his nose bumping your clit while he sucks and licks like he’s starving.

you’re already shaking when he finally pulls back, chin shiny with your slick, breathing hard. steve crawls up over you, his cock heavy and leaking as he drags the head through your messy slit. the tip catches at your entrance every few passes, slipping in just enough to stretch you before he pulls back again. your eyes blur with hot tears, overwhelmed by how desperately turned on you feel, how your body clenches and weeps for more even though you can’t explain why.

“please,” you whisper, voice cracking.

steve’s forehead presses to yours, his breath shaky. “i know, baby. i got you.”

he finally pushes in, slow and thick, sinking all the way until his hips meet yours. the stretch punches a sob from your chest. he hooks your knees over his arms, folding you into a deep mating press, and starts rocking into you with long, deliberate thrusts. each one drags his thick cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, grinding deep against your cervix.

“holy shit. gonna get you pregnant,” he mumbles against your mouth, voice low and shaky. “wanna watch your belly grow with my kid. see these pretty tits get all big and full.” his hips roll slower, deeper, every thrust pushing his cum even deeper inside of you. “fuck—imagine how swollen you’ll look. how fucking tight this little pussy will get around me.”

you’re fully crying now, overwhelmed and so fucking full, tears slipping down your temples while he fucks you slow and steady. steve kisses them away, still whispering filthy promises between moans. “gonna fill you up every night until it takes, honey. keep you just like this forever—stuffed and leaking and mine.”

his pace stays deep and unhurried, the wet sound of his cock moving through the mess between your legs filling the room. every time he bottoms out you whimper, the pressure perfect and too much all at once. steve’s arms tighten around your thighs, holding you open as he grinds in slow rolls, savoring every flutter of your walls around him.

he leans down, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking while his hips keep that relentless, deep rhythm. “can’t fucking wait to see how these leak for me,” he groans, switching to the other side, completely enamored by you. “you gonna let me drink from you while i fuck another load into this pretty pussy? huh?”

your body trembles under him, brain completely mushy, tears still falling as the pleasure builds again, slow and devastating. steve’s cock drags along every sensitive spot inside you, the stretch constant and so perfect. he keeps mumbling between kisses, voice cracking with how much he wants it. “gonna breed you so good, baby. mmph. make you mine forever.”