#The Tiny Trash Uncle

[foundfamilymylove]

Imagine the chaos if the people in the indignity test suddenly came into the LCF world-

Dodam calling Cale 'the terrible bastard' while everyone is confused

Raon is happy knowing that even in another world, his human will always save him, just like he promised

Maybe even them fighting for Cale's attention

Both CHs look at each other warily but bond over the confusion that is known as Cale Henituse. Also, CH promises to teach indignity test CH how to become stronger to protect his new-found family. Cale is scared at this, as always

Alver laughing with a refreshed smile, while the younger him wonders if he's gone crazy when he sees how much paperwork he has.

Tiny Alver being happy when he sees that the dark elves, and them too, have been accepted by people. It only reaffirms the fact that he didn't make the wrong choice.

Baby KRS who is wary at first and sticks to CH like glue, however soon opens up with the help of the children. I can imagine Alver going 'Aigoo, why can't I have such a cute dongsaeng?'

However it's ruined when they teach baby KRS how to scam with a bright smile to get money (a critical hit to Alver)

(If you want angst then they wonder why KRS is here when he's so young, however they see how skinny he is still, his footsteps too quiet to not have been learned, the way his eyes were always looking for escapes and he hated people getting too close. The way he dissociates sometimes, just staring blankly at the wall. It's... unnerving, to say the least, to watch a child go so blank and unmoving.

It's clear that something terrible had happened, but both CH, KRS and Cale (to Alver) hold their silence, so all they can do is treat him with care.)

Tiny KRS and the children bonding.

Raon being taught by Eruhaben and Rosalyn.

If they still had the cintamani, maybe they could also dote on baby KRS and how cute he was as a kid, asking 20yr KRS why couldn't he smile at them like that and how such a cute kid turned into such a grump- (tsundere-

Them helping each other out for the future, and sharing concepts/ideas from their worlds.

Vicross having to babysit but he doesn't mind

Ron noticing the similarities between KRS and Cale and deciding to pay more attention to the two of them

Anyways, wow. This got way longer than I expected-

[carbonateddelusion]

sits here. my mood has been swinging back and forth like a pendulum lately

[science-hoes]

You Are In Love: Chapter One

Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical medical descriptions, a dad joke, VERY FLUFFY

Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two

Description: Jack needs the reader to help him with a VIP patient, but she soon learns about his chosen family.

——

Jack Abbot was the reason you wanted to go into emergency medicine. Watching him under pressure was like watching an Olympian in their medal-winning sport. He handled every case with control and diligence, and that lured you into the specialty even more. It only took one medical school rotation with him to know that you wanted to play the game.

So now, in your third month of your internship, you spent nearly every moment with Jack Abbot on the night shift. You rarely had a different attending. The scheduling gods seemed to be in your favor. Of course, you had gotten to know everyone else on staff. You had made friends with the other residents and attendings. Dana had become your favorite charge nurse. Even the social workers were happy to see you walk through the doors.

You arrived an hour early for your night shift, hoping to practice some more suturing in the skills lab before shift change. Just as you were about to escape the doctors lounge and head to the lab, a voice called out behind you.

“Hey, kid, I could use your help.”

You turned to see Jack pulling a pair of gloves off and tossing them in the trash. “Oh, hi.” You replied as you walked toward him. “What are you doing here this early?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, that smug asshole smile on his face. “I could ask you the same.”

You shrugged. “I was gonna go to the skills lab and suture. But not if you need me.”

He nodded and pressed a hand on your back as he lead you to one of the Central rooms. “We have a VIP.” He explained.

He swung the curtain open to reveal a little girl with long, dark hair and big brown eyes. You’d seen those eyes before…

“Uncle Jack!” The five year old exclaimed at the sight of your attending.

It was like magic, the way Jack’s usual stoic demeanor turned into one that would rival a Disney hero. “Hey, princess!” He returned her enthusiasm, a wide grin on his face. He dropped to his knees in front of the child and grabbed her tiny hands in his. “What are you doing here, huh?” He took a quick glance at the mother, who was holding a small blue bundle in her arms.

“I’m hurt.” The child replied, albeit vaguely.

The young woman let out a strained sigh. “We were at the park, and Eliza jumped out of the swing when she saw some older kids do it. Landed on her arm.” She explained.

Jack nodded, giving a don’t-blame-yourself look to her. Then his eyes flicked back to Eliza. “Can I see your arm, please?” He asked, a voice so gentle that it had to have been someone else’s. A moment of hesitation from the child. Then a head-tilt from the silver-haired man. “Uncle Jack is gonna make it all better.” He promised.

That seemed to convince her because she slowly, feebly presented her swollen arm. Jack delicately held the arm in his hands and examined it.

“Bump her up to next in line on X-ray. We’ll get her some IV morphine to help her relax. Could need realignment and screws.” He said to you.

Just as you were about to walk out of the room, you bumped into someone rushing into the room. A mumbled apology was the only thing you heard before a shrill “Daddy!”

You turned to see Michael Robinavitch kneeling to the ground in front of the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart!” He greeted.

Oooh. VIP. This was Robby’s family. The patient was Robby’s daughter. You left while the family reunited to order the X-Ray. When you turned to enter the room again, Dana was leading Robby’s wife, who held a tiny baby, to the cafeteria.

“X-Ray order is in. Next in line.” You announced to the attendings.

Jack gave you a thumbs up. He was sorting out the materials needed for IV morphine. He pulled the butterfly needle out of the packaging, and like clockwork, Eliza began to cry. Robby knelt to meet his daughter’s eyes, the ones that were a perfect mirror of his. “Sweetheart, look at me. Look at me.” He whispered. “We have to get you the medicine so your arm will stop hurting, okay? Just a quick poke.”

Eliza shook her head, more tears streaming down her face. “Daddy, please, don’t do it.” She begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

And if you’d never seen a man’s heart break in real time, the look on Robby’s face would be ingrained in your memory forever. His body seemed to go limp at his daughter’s words, unable to insert the needle if he tried. Jack quickly intervened, kneeling next to Robby. “Daddy isn’t gonna hurt you.” He assured the child. “He’s gonna hold you while Uncle Jack gives you the medicine. Does that sound okay?”

Eliza still continued to cry. You remember being her age and having a paralyzing fear of needles. So, you stepped forward to distract from the two pathetic men on the ground. “Hey, baby. I’m gonna show you how it works, okay?” You said.

You grabbed the blue elastic tie from the tray and wrapped it around your forearm. “First, Uncle Jack is gonna wrap this around your arm. It’s gonna give you a big hug for a few minutes!”

You picked up the alcohol swab package and opened it. “Then, he is just going to give your hand a little bath to get it all clean. Like this.” You said, swiping the wipe across the back of your hand. “See? All clean!”

You tossed the wipe and grabbed the J-tip, pressing it on the cleaned part of your hand. “Then, he’s going to give you a stamp that makes your hand tingle. What’s your favorite soda?” You continued.

Eliza followed your every move with an intense curiosity. “Sprite.” She sniffled.

You smiled. “When Uncle Jack gives you the stamp, it’s going to sound like you’re opening a Sprite can. It’s just air.” You explained.

Eliza nodded, rubbing chubby fingers across her wet eyes. You reached for the butterfly needle after placing the J-tip back on the tray. “Last, he’s going to let this little butterfly give you a kiss where the stamp was.” You finished, inserting the needle into one of your own veins. “See? It doesn’t hurt!” You lied through your teeth. It always hurt more to get an IV on the back of your hand, but that was Eliza’s best bet.

You yanked the blue tie off your arm, then removed the butterfly needle. “Think you can let Uncle Jack try now?” You asked.

Eliza didn’t answer, but she didn’t protest either. You smiled, motivated mostly by pride, and looked to your senior attendings. Both men stared back at you. Robby with a look of relief, mostly because you got his daughter to calm down. But Jack…you couldn’t read the look on his face. He broke your gaze to pat Robby on the back, standing up with him.

“Alright, princess, let’s get you that medicine.” He said, grabbing a fresh butterfly needle.

Robby sat on the bed, crossing his legs, and pulled Eliza carefully into his lap. He cradled the little girl in his arms, using his free hand to smooth her dark hair as she whimpered. “Shh…Daddy’s got you.” He soothed.

Eliza melted into her father’s embrace, blinking slowly when he brushed stray tears from her reddened cheeks. Jack tenderly grabbed her uninjured arm and wrapped the blue tie around her forearm still loose. “Alright, Eliza. You’re about to feel that big hug, okay?” He explained, then pulled the blue tie snug.

A small sound of discomfort escaped the child, but she remained docile in her father’s arms. Jack traced the tiny veins on the back of her hand and found his target. When he turned around to reach for an alcohol swab, you already had it ready for him with an outstretched hand. For a brief moment, Jack was caught off guard, but he took the swab from your palm, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin for a beat longer than normal.

“Now, let’s give your hand that cold bath.” He said.

Jack rubbed the wipe across his tiny workspace, and Eliza let out the smallest, softest giggle. Robby smiled, probably for the first time since he stepped foot into the room. “That tickle? Yeah?” He teased. Eliza nodded, just a little bit.

“You ready for that Sprite can sound?” Jack asked, once again reaching, and you already met him halfway with the J-tip.

“Yeah.” Eliza whispered, her face half nuzzled into Robby’s chest, but still enough to keep an eye on Jack’s movements.

Jack placed the J-tip over the vein he wanted, and just like you said, it sounded like a can of Sprite opening, minus the sugary fizz that followed. Eliza jerked her hand pack at the odd sensation of carbon dioxide shooting across her skin. Robby reached his finger under her palm for her to grasp, and she did, just like she always had since she was born.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He said softly.

Jack rubbed the spot on the back of her hand. “Once it starts working, we’re gonna let that butterfly land on it, okay?” He explained.

“And it will give me a kiss?” Eliza asked, looking to you, her source of information.

Jack and Robby both chuckled, and the latter pressed a kiss to her hair. “Yeah, just like that.” He replied.

Eliza giggled, but in her joy, she shifted and moved her broken arm. The laughs quickly turned to screams of pain again, and Jack winced.

“Oh, you gotta be still, princess. We’re almost ready for the medicine.” He said. Then, he leaned in, like he was trying to keep his voice from Robby’s earshot. “You know, if you keep being a brave girl, once you’re all healed up, you can come to my house and go swimming.” His voice was playfully sly.

The cries reduced, just a little. “I can?” She blubbered.

Jack nodded. “Sure. As long as your mommy and daddy say it’s okay.” He replied, glancing up at Robby, hoping he didn’t just make a promise outside of his power.

Robby smiled and nodded. “Of course. You need to show Uncle Jack how you can swim without floaties now.” He said.

Jack’s eyes blew comically wide. “Without floaties? Only big girls can swim without floaties.”

Eliza nodded, her bottom lip still quivering, but a glint of pride was in her eyes. The same one you’d seen in Robby’s eyes many times. “Can Abby come, too?” She asked.

Jack nodded, a smile playing at his lips. “Absolutely. We’ll have a pool party.” He reached back for the butterfly needle, and once again, the brush of your fingers against his. He kept it out of Eliza’s view, continuing to hold her hand. “Your daddy and I will grill some hamburgers and hot dogs. You can teach Abby how to swim. We’ll invite Nana, too.”

Eliza didn’t even flinch when Jack inserted the butterfly needle. You carefully concealed your morphine syringe and connected it to the line. But just as you could see her entire body relax in Robby’s arms from the push of meds, she looked to you with those big brown eyes. “Are you gonna come to the pool party?” She asked.

You froze, unsure of how to answer. Does an invitation from a five-year-old have enough warrant to show up at your boss’ house? Jack placed a hand on your back, lower than he probably meant to. “Yes, she’ll be there, too.” He confirmed for you.

You snapped your head to his direction. Those hazel eyes bore into you, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. In that silence, he winked at you, a smug smile on his face.

“Uncle Jack, she’s pretty.” The little voice broke your small moment.

Your eyes widened, heat crawling up your neck. Robby let out an involuntary sound, a mixture of a laugh and a choke. But Jack never looked away from you. In fact, he doubled down with, “I know.”

Before you could melt away in a puddle of embarrassment and giddiness, the curtain swung open, revealing Dana and Robby’s wife, still cradling a tiny bundle.

“Nana!” Eliza sluggishly squealed.

Dana leaned over and gently tickled Eliza’s shoulders. “There’s my girl!” She exclaimed.

You tilted your head, confused by the connection. “Nana?” You questioned.

Robby chuckled. “Eliza couldn’t say ‘Dana’ when she was little, so she kept calling her Nana.” He explained.

Dana gave you a stern but playful look. “Keep in mind that I am not old enough to be a real Nana.” She stated.

Jack raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “I know plenty of people your age who are grandmothers.” He said.

Dana pointed a finger at him and jabbed his chest. “How would you like to lose another foot?” She threatened.

Your jaw dropped at the comment. That wasn’t allowed, right? Surely, that crossed some kind of line. But Jack just chuckled and swiped her hand away.

“I’d love to. I’ll be one step closer to becoming a robot.” He replied. “Literally.”

Robby’s wife groaned at the unfortunate pun. “Please, stop. I already have to listen to Robby and his dad jokes.” She begged.

Robby grinned proudly. “Yeah, leave it to the professionals.” He teased, but his eyes moved to the bundle his wife was holding. “How’s my little man doing?” He asked.

She smiled and moved to sit on the bed next to Robby and Eliza. “He’s been a sleepy boy all day. Better than testing out his lungs though.” She leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder as she spoke. “How’s my big girl?”

Eliza grinned sheepishly when her mom reached to gently pinch her rosy cheeks. “Uncle Jack said we can have a pool party at his house.” She stated, beginning to slur her words in sleepiness. “He said Nana can come. And he said Abby can come.”

Dana chuckled. “Still calling him Abby, huh?” She asked.

Robby smiled, shifting so that Eliza could rest horizontally as she began to doze off. “We’re working on it.” He answered. “Somewhere she learned that nickname. Can’t imagine from who.” He joked.

Jack huffed and moved to where Robby’s wife sat, offering his pinky to the baby boy’s tiny hand, activating his palmar grasp reflex. “Have they been desecrating our name, buddy?” He asked, a lilt in his voice. “Us Abbots are fighters. We don’t take shit from anybody.”

Dana’s swat at Jack’s shoulder for cursing in front of Eliza and his following defense of “She’s asleep!” didn’t distract you from your new piece of information.

“He’s an Abbot?” You questioned, a feeling of warmth in your chest.

Robby’s wife smiled. “Michael Abbot Robinavitch. We stuck with Michael for about a week, but…” She trailed off, looking to her husband.

Robby’s shoulders hunched a bit. “She calls me Michael when I’m in trouble. I got a little scared every time she said his name.” He admitted, but his smile remained. “So we settled on Abbot.”

Jack carefully cradled Abbot as Robby’s wife passed him over. His tanned biceps that strained against the sleeves of his scrub top made the baby look incredibly small. He slowly walked over to you, his right foot stepping heavier as usual, his eyes focused on the baby. A deep smile graced his lips. And just on the edges framing the smile were huge dimples. You wanted to save that image forever. You brushed a finger against the baby’s tiny hand, smiling when he moved in response.

Meanwhile, Robby was elbowed by his wife, who exchanged an excited but knowing glance with Dana at the sight of you and Jack sharing that unintentionally tender moment. All he did was nod in response, eyebrows raised in a silent confirmation.

“Why Abbot? Is Jack that important?” You teased.

Dana threw her hands up in exasperation. “Thank you!” She said. “That’s what I said. I’m still waiting for a little Dana.”

“Working on it.” Robby said with a wink, quickly receiving an elbow in the ribs from his wife.

“Michael!” His wife hissed.

Robby cowered slightly at his birth name. Jack nodded his head towards them. “See? That’s why this is Abbot.” He said.

You giggled and gently ran a hand over the baby’s soft hair near his forehead, afraid to venture too far back towards the fontanelle. “Well, Abbot is very cute.” You complimented.

A simultaneous “Thank you” filled the room. One genuine, from Robby’s wife. The other facetious, from Jack. Laughter filled the room, and you felt oddly a part of a family. Their family.

Perlah entered the room with a pediatric wheelchair. “X-ray is ready for Eliza.” She said, smiling at the sight before her.

Robby stood carefully, holding his daughter snug against his chest. “I’ll go with her. We can walk.” He said and followed Perlah out of the room.

As if it were a snap back to reality, Jack walked back over to Robby’s wife and carefully transferred Abbot back to her arms. “I’m gonna go check on that DUI kid in Central Four.” He said before looking over to you. “Go ahead and get the cast materials ready. She’s gonna want pink.”

Jack left the room, holding onto the ends of his stethoscope as he walked. You found yourself frozen for a moment, processing everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes or so. Someone cleared their throat, and you snapped your head in that direction, embarrassment coursing through your veins.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You said, moving to the drawers of the room quickly to grab the liner and plaster.

Robby’s wife looked to Dana with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Dana nodded, intercepting her question in the air.

“So, what do you think of Abbot?” She asked.

You smiled, bringing the supplies back to the tray near the bed. “He looks just like Robby.” You answered.

Dana rolled her eyes. “No, not Dana Jr.” She deadpanned, then nodded her head toward the Pitt. “The Lieutenant Colonel.”

Your hands froze where they were, sorting out the supplies. Slowly you looked up, and you were met with both women staring intently at you. “Oh, Doctor Abbot…” You corrected yourself. “He’s nice.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Robby’s wife immediately responded.

Dana gave her a look of way-to-blow-our-cover. You let out a nervous laugh. “I mean, yeah. But he’s way older than me. And we work together.” You answered, using your answers to ground yourself as to why your crush was a dead end.

Robby’s wife shrugged. “So? Robby is almost 20 years older than me. And we work together.” She countered.

You tilted your head. “Wait, you work here? In emergency?” You asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been on maternity leave.” She explained.

“Ohhhh.” You drew out, finally connecting the dots.

Dana smiled. “See? So what are your other excuses?” She pried.

You laughed slightly and shrugged. “I guess I don’t know if he’s interested.” You replied.

The two women shared another glance, debating on revealing any other information. “But you are?” Robby’s wife asked.

You smiled slightly, looking down at your hands. “Who wouldn’t be?”

The conversation ended there when Robby reentered the room with a slightly awake Eliza. “Distal radius fracture. No surgery.” He announced.

His wife let out a sigh of relief and smiled when her husband sat next to her again, still cradling the little girl. “That means we can all go home tonight.” She said, pressing her forehead to Robby’s shoulder.

—

After you followed Jack’s careful instruction while shaping the cast on Eliza’s arm, the little girl begged everyone to sign it. By the time she left with her family, there was a “Mommy”, “Daddy”, “Nana”, and your name with a smiley face on the hot pink wrapping. And as soon as you finished writing your name, Jack had snatched the sharpie from your hand, scrawling “Uncle Jack” right next to your signature.

As you watched the Robinavitches leave the Pitt, you found yourself smiling. You wanted that. The devoted parents, the precious children, the caring friends who became family.

You knew Jack was approaching by the uneven foot pattern, but you didn’t turn around. “You think I’m pretty?” You asked.

He stood by your side, brushing his thick shoulder against your frame, looking down at you with a trace of a smile. “I’d be a fool to think otherwise.” He answered honestly.

You looked up to meet his gaze. Those bourbon eyes were intoxicating, but you fought to maintain eye contact. “You’re really great with kids.” You complimented. “Eliza loves you.”

His smile deepened to a sincere one you weren’t used to seeing. “Thank you.”

The stare off continued. “Do you want kids?” You blurted out, and you nearly clamped your hand over your mouth at the word vomit.

Jack tilted his head, smile unfaltering. “If I find the right person to have them with.” He replied, leaning down closer to you just slightly. “Before I turn to dust.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. He laughed with you and crossed his arms, the muscles rippling across his skin. You didn’t notice when he leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“What you did in there with Eliza. Walking her through the process. Got her to stop crying. Good job.” He whispered lowly.

The hair on your neck stood at attention at the praise, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. You tried to brush off the feeling. “Thanks, Doctor Abbot.” You replied.

His face twitched when you called him by his last name, like he forgot you were his intern and not his. “Jack.” He corrected you.

You looked up to him again, taking in another drink of his eyes. There was vulnerability this time. “Jack.” You repeated in a whisper. “I didn’t know you had dimples.”

It was Jack’s turn to get flustered. “What do you mean?” He asked, and you could see the red creeping up his freckled neck.

You gently poked at his cheeks where the divots had appeared earlier. “You have dimples when you smile. It’s really cute.” You teased.

You could see the muscles in his face actively working to hold back a smile. He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t smile.” He answered as seriously as he could.

You wrapped your hands around his bicep and rested your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our secret.”

And the smile Jack held back flooded onto his face. Dimples and all. He placed a hand over yours and pressed a gentle kiss to your hair. Nobody said another word. You didn’t have to. You could hear it in the silence.

——

A/N: this is probably gonna get a Part 2 featuring the pool party because I can’t help myself. Also this can technically be a Robby x Reader fic because I intentionally didn’t give his wife a name so you can have the best of both worlds here 💙

[kurooangel]

₊˚⊹  babysitting .ᐟ

featuring       ᰔ  kuroo tetsuro, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi.

warnings       ᰔ  fluff. a baby piss on atsumu. characters on their early 20s. masterlist.

★ kuroo tetsuro ; his sister was busy and, well, he didn't mind spending time of his nephew. the only problem was that he doesn't has the slightest idea of how taking care of a year old baby. he runs a hand through his hair while he sees you feeding the baby, and he knows you're holding back a smug smile because of how stained of apple puree he is.

"how can you do it so good?" he groans, taking off his stained shirt. "because you have to do it with love, tetsu" you chuckle, making the airplane with the spoon for the baby. "I was doing it with love, but then that little devil throw me the spoon. the full spoon" he throws his shirt in the wash machine and stays beside you, watching how you seem so natural with his nephew. "wanna try again?" you say softly, a sweet smile on your face that he can't resist. kuroo takes the spoon from your hand and gently approaches it to his nephew, who starts crying and throws him the full spoon again, cheek and abs stained with puree. "okay, I get it, he hates me"

★ miya atsumu ; he was extremely happy about having a nephew. osamu didn't trust him at all to take care of his baby without messing anything up, but he needed to open the restaurant again and his wife needed to rest, so he trusted that you put some sense in his brother's head this while you've been dating.

"who is the cutest miya ever? that's right, me! but you're the second, don't worry" he says holding the baby. you were changing his nappy and while you were throwing it in the trash, he grabbed the baby and raised him in his arms. you snorted at his words and shook your head amused, but you raised an eyebrow when you saw his shocked face and his wet shirt. "did he...?" you hold back a laugh. "pissed on me? yeah, and he has great accuracy" he mumbles, paled face.

★ sakusa kiyoomi ; omi thinks babies are weird. tiny, silly, little humans who depend to everything and cry a lot. he didn't mind having your sister's baby at your place, tho. he looks from away, watching you play with him, and he makes eyes contact with the small girl. she giggles and crawls towards him, hugging his leg.

"hi" he says, an eyebrow arched and he glances you quickly, a silent ask for help. "omi omi!" your niece says, giggling at your boyfriend's name. he holds her, eyes squinted while she forms an 'o' with her mouth because of the sudden height. "do you like uncle kiyoomi?" you say playfully, leaning against his side. "tall! very high!" she laughs again. "she likes you" you kiss his cheek, and you tease with a soft smile. "so stop looking at her like she's an alien, this little thing is called a baby"

[kiryoutann]

i feel like this was wayyy too cute not to share now, so… sneak peek??? and i'm convinced simon is the most patient girl dad out there.

Walking over slowly so as not to scare her, he then asked, “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”

Gianna whipped around in a flash like a criminal caught in the act, her big brown eyes gleaming with a touch of guilt but not a trace of fear. "I dropped my cereal," she confessed succinctly, mirroring a trait she had unquestionably inherited from her father.

He crouched down next to her. “’Ere, let me help you with that,” then reached out, taking the paper towel from her tiny hands and started cleaning up.

Gianna just watched him until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“’S alright, darlin’. Accidents ‘appen.” Simon stated, rising to his feet and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He then turned his attention back to his daughter. “But you could’ve woke me up. I’d ‘ave helped you clean it up straight away.”

“I know, but you were sleeping. An’ mum says you sleep like a… like a… clog?”

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I think you mean a log, love.” He corrected.

“Oh right!” The little girl exclaims, nodding her head. “Tha’s the word. You sleep like a log.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever yer mum says.” He glanced at the box of cereal still sitting on the kitchen counter, then decided to keep himself and his daughter away from it. “So cereal is no option then. What d’you want for breakfast instead?”

Without missing a beat, Gianna chirps, “Ice cream!”

Simon snorts, shaking his head. “Can’t ‘ave ice cream for breakfast, darlin’.”

Gianna tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at him questioningly. "Why not?" she asked. “Mummy 'as coffee for breakfast, alllll the time!” she spreads her arms out for dramatic effect—he chuckles at that. Definitely got it from mommy.

“Yeah, don’t be like yer mum, alright?”

The girl frowns slightly. “But why not? Mummy’s pretty, an’ she cooks good food.”

Something he couldn’t disagree with. He nodded, reaching out to ruffle her blonde hair. “That she does, darlin’. But we still don’t want you havin’ coffee or ice cream for breakfast, alright?”

"Okay, then can we go to Uncle John's house?" she asked.

“An’ why’s that?”

Gianna bounced on her toes, her arms swinging. “I miss Buddy an’ Daisy!”

Simon groaned inwardly. Should’ve known she’d bring that up. Ever since that one time he brought her to Price’s place and she met his dogs, Gianna has been begging to go back. Every time after school—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” Every weekend—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” And the thing is, the bloody mutts aren’t even there anymore, not since Price and his missus divorced.

“The dogs ain't there anymore, love.” He watched her face fall.

"Why not?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “Cause,” he trailed off, not really wanting to explain the whole messy divorce situation to a five-year-old. “Nevermind that. What d’you want for breakfast?”

Instead of answering, Gianna crossed her arms while frowning. “I don’t want breakfast. I want Buddy an’ Daisy!

A sigh escaped Simon as the results of his parenting bit him in the ass. Bloody hell, he had to stop surrendering to her big eyes and pouting lips—just like her mum. She had learned from the best, hadn’t she? Got him wrapped around her tiny finger. There was only one trick up his sleeve to get her to cooperate.

“If you don’t eat breakfast, then then we won’t be able to go an’ watch yer mum later.”

And sure enough, Gianna’s whole expression lit up, renewed. She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. Seems like he got himself a drama queen.

“We’re gonna watch Mum?!” she asked, full of hope.

Simon nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression but always failing because of her antics. “As long as you behave an’ eat breakfast.”

The five-year-old was cheering, jumping, and doing her little dances in unbridled energy—just like her mum. He guessed it was true what Garrick said that day the lads visited the two of you at the hospital after Gianna was born—“She’s a perfect blend of the both of you.”

[bloodibambiidoll]

Cat and Mouse

(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)

Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)

Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys… Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk there’s like a second where they’re both doubting themselves but it’s solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk he’s just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell y’all they’re pervs, they’re gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: Listen… idk what came over me with this one… a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics I’ve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but I’m a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasn’t as innocent as Eddie thought. That’s it, that’s all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. 😌 (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddie’s shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist

You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncle’s comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.

You hadn’t known him long but it didn’t take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when you’d cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You weren’t, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.

You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didn’t quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.

So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.

Each time they would be gone, and you weren’t sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.

•

The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.

He couldn’t stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldn’t help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.

He learned that you weren’t only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.

You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didn’t realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. You’d look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.

But once you started hanging out with him outside of work that’s when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldn’t resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.

Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldn’t need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what he’s been finding himself doing more and more often when he’s in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.

Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.

You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.

This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.

The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.

He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t notice it missing.

You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldn’t help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.

•

About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still weren’t sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddie’s room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old man’s wife picked it out for him.

It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like… you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.

That night you did something you would’ve felt ashamed of if you weren’t positive Eddie’s done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.

You wrapped Eddie’s shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.

•

Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasn’t there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadn’t been there before, he definitely would have noticed.

Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didn’t?

Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldn’t come off as suspicious.

You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.

When you open your bedroom door he’s sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.

“There you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.” You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.

“Why thank you madam” Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.

You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.

You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.

Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.

“Fuck” He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didn’t hear him.

“Hmm? Eddie, you okay?”

You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didn’t know how sexy you were, like you didn’t know you drive him fucking crazy.

“Uh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good ol’ kraft hits the spot.” He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.

“Right? It’ll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds I’ve eaten, nothing beats it.”

You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like he’s got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.

“I - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him I’d help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasn’t done it! So I’m - I gotta go!” He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didn’t turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.

“Thank you for lunch! I’ll leave the bowl in the sink! I’ll um - I’ll see you later!”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.

You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you… Or maybe… maybe he ran home to jerk off… maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. That’s what you hoped at least.

You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least that’s what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.

•

You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didn’t even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldn’t taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.

He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.

“FUCK!” He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.

After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.

•

You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.

You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didn’t make sense, why would he take all those things if he didn’t like you? If he didn’t want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.

So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddie’s shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.

You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now you’re almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.

The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.

The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.

The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.

The next one is the one you’re most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. It’s an upshot of you from the neck down, you’re straddling the pillow that’s wrapped in Eddie’s shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.

The last photo is you in the same position but it’s from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.

Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like they’re a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.

Eddie,

if you wanted my panties… all you had to do was ask. You’ve taken all my cutest ones now. But that’s okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.

Xoxo - Your angel.

You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Gareth’s for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.

•

Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.

He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.

You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.

“Hi Eddie, this is for you. But don’t open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?”

You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the night not knowing.

“A gift? For me? Angel, you shouldn’t have.” He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.

“I didn’t spend any money on it or anything… but I’m not giving it to you unless you promise you won’t open it until you get home later.”

“Yeah, I promise.” He smiled at you reassuringly.

You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.

“EDDIE!! Don’t do that, you’re never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!”

You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally would’ve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.

•

Movie night wasn’t awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadn’t been ignoring you all week and you couldn’t tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.

That little box in the back of Eddie’s van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldn’t stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.

Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.

When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.

Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didn’t ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.

•

Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.

He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.

He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.

Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.

It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.

He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.

His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.

You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and you’re straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and he’s seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.

It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didn’t just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, there’s little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.

His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.

He didn’t even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.

•

You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.

You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.

“You knew?” He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.

“Yeah…” You bit your lip as you nodded. “I knew the whole time… from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.

You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.

“Why not?” He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.

“It was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didn’t it was almost hotter to me for some reason… I’m sorry if that’s weird.” You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didn’t say anything?

“I stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and you’re asking me if it’s weird that you left them out for me?” He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.

“I could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photos…” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Did you really…”

“Fuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.” You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.

“Jesus fucking christ… that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, shit.”

He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.

You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.

“God Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.” You moaned against his lips.

“Angel, I’ll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts you’ve been leaving me without me even knowing… you really thought I knew?” He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.

“For a while there, yeah… That’s why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didn’t know. I thought for a second I might’ve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway… looks like it paid off.” You looked him up and down, biting your lip.

“Fuck yeah it did.” He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what could’ve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.

You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.

You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that he’s never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.

“Tell me about your fantasies Eddie… tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.” Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.

“Fuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.”

“Mmm… that’s what I hoped you’d do, tell me more…” You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.

“I can’t believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out you’d hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.” He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.

“Well, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.” You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.

“God damn.” He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. “When I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.”

“Mmm Eddie, that’s so hot.” You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.

“Then once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.”

His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.

“That day when I found that picture of your tits… and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.”

You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“If you’re depraved… so am I.” You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks he’s in love with you at this point because you’re not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. You’re standing there like every fantasy he’s ever had about you come true, but better.

“Angel, those pictures have nothing on the real thing” He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. “I need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.”

“Mmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.”

You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesn’t think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.

He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.

“Ho- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.” Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.

“I thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.”

His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, he’s still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna - fuckinnng cum - I’m gonna cum.” You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.

You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an “Uh-Uh” into your pussy. His hand that’s pinning you down doesn’t move and his fingers stay buried inside you. He’s licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didn’t even know you can make.

When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.

“Sorry… you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didn’t want to stop.” He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.

“You’re sorry? Holy shit Eddie, I’ve never cum that hard in my entire life.”

He smiled triumphantly, you’d think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.

“Fuck, we taste so good together.” You moan.

“Holy fucking shit, you’re my dream girl.”

“Let me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.” You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.

You’ve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.

“Wow Eddie… you’re beautiful.”

You smile at him with that devilish little smile he’s becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.

You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.

“Please.” Now he’s the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, there’s a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.

But there’s something you want more, something you’ve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.

You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But it’s bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know you’re addicted to it now.

“Your cock is huge baby, I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out.” You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.

“Holy - fuckING - sh - shit!” Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.

He’s about to apologize but you don’t pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. There’s tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but you’re moaning and so he can tell you’re enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.

Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, he’s babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.

When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. But he’s also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.

“Hey, I wasn’t done!” You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.

“Yeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.” He’s the one whining now.

“Can I ride you?” You ask him like that’s even a question.

“Fuck yeah you can.”

You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. It’s still a stretch but you’re so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.

“Oh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Yeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.”

You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and you’re moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.

“Suck.”

You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and you’re about to mourn the loss but then he’s rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.

He starts fucking you so fast that you can’t keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. He’s fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.

“Eddie I’m c - close I-I’m close.” Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.

“Me too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.” His feet are flat on the mattress and he’s somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you aren’t even sure you’re on this planet anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, where do you?”

Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.

“Inside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!” You start to meet his thrusts, he’s still rubbing your clit and you’re so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.

“Oh fuck!!!” Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth.

When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.

“I’m gonna fuckin marry you someday.”

You laugh, even though he doesn’t sound like he’s joking.

“Yeah? I think I’d like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.”

You both started cracking up at that.

“I’m serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best ones…” You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.

“That’s not gonna work the same now that I know you’re just using it against me…”

“You sure about that?” You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.

“Ugh, no. You’re still not getting them back though, I’ll buy you new ones.” He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.

“Why? So you can just take those ones too?” You tease.

“Nah, I have the real thing now. I’d rather take them off you.”

Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine

[corroded-hellfire]

Throwing a fluffy idea out there: Eddie volunteering (possibly for community service after getting busted for something silly) at a pet shelter. The kittens trying to play with his hair, him rough housing with the dogs to help get them some playtime and exercise.

Eddie loves animals and no one can change my mind. All I want is to see him with these fuzzy little babies 🥺

Words: 3.1k

Hopper was a good guy. He knew deep down Eddie was a good kid and that if he was the worst criminal that Hawkins had, things were going all right. But that didn’t mean that the chief of police wouldn’t lay down the law once in a while with the small-time drug dealer. 

Eddie had gotten the choice between a few nights in the tiny town jail or volunteering at a pre-approved Hawkins business. Not wanting to spend time behind bars, Eddie grumbled as he took a look at the list of volunteer options. Spending any time at a medical facility was an automatic no and Eddie wasn’t sure how picking up trash would keep him away from drugs when all he’d want is to smoke a joint after the arduous task. 

The Hawkins Animal Shelter immediately seemed appealing, though. Growing up, Eddie had always wanted a dog, but his dad couldn’t afford to own one and Wayne is allergic. Thinking of spending time with the dogs and cats that didn’t have families of their own brought a smile to his face. Maybe part of it was that he didn’t have a stable home life before coming to live with his uncle, so he could relate to the sweet, innocent animals. 

His first day on the job, Eddie jumps out of his van and tosses his leather jacket on the passenger’s seat so it won’t get covered in fur or drool. The gravel crunches beneath his boots as he heads towards the front door. Barking can be heard before he even grips the dull copper doorknob. 

There’s an older woman seated behind a desk as soon as he walks in, who looks up at him over the rim over her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Munson?” Her voice is deep and raspy, the pack of cigarettes sitting in front of her the obvious culprit.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says.

The woman nods her head to a yellow door covered in scratches—mostly on the bottom half. “In there. The girl will show you what to do.”

The girl. Eddie doesn’t even know who she is, but he’s offended on her behalf by being referred to in that way. Giving the woman a quick nod, Eddie heads over and through the door, eager to be out of her presence. 

The sound of dogs barking and yipping is even louder in the back hallway, and now it’s joined by the high-pitched meowing of cats. It brings a smile to Eddie’s face as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. He turns a corner and sees a girl bending over into one of the dog’s kennels. As excited as he is to see the animals he’s going to be spending time with, he admires the view of the nice ass in front of him first. A particularly loud woof from a Pomeranian has the girl standing up straight and Eddie is quick to avert his eyes, hoping he can keep up the facade of being a gentleman for more than five minutes.

“Oh! Hi, Eddie.”

At the sound of his name, Eddie looks back towards you. A smile breaks out on his face as he recognizes you from school. The two of you never really spoke before, but he couldn’t deny that he’d always thought you were very pretty. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here,” he says.

“Nope, just volunteer,” you say as you wipe your hands off on the thighs of your jeans. 

“And I bet you weren’t even threatened with jail time,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. You giggle and it makes Eddie’s stomach flip in a way that’s unfamiliar to him.

“Let me guess, Brenda sent you back here with a huff?” A dog clamors for your attention in a kennel to your right and you reach in to scratch behind the chocolate lab’s ear. 

“I assume so,” Eddie says with a shrug. “She didn’t bother introducing herself before ushering me along, saying you would tell me what to do.”

“Hmm,” you hum, narrowing your eyes as if inspecting him. “Can anyone really tell Eddie Munson what to do?”

This makes him laugh and it scares a skittish poodle to his left.

“Aw, I’m sorry, pal.” Eddie crouches down and holds his knuckles up to the kennel door to let the white, fluffy dog give him a sniff. 

“That’s Stella,” you tell him. “Her brother Bruno is on the pillow back there asleep.”

Eddie’s eyes roam over to the dark gray poodle snoozing away in the back corner. He looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world and Eddie envies that. 

“Do you know all the animals’ names here?” Eddie asks as he stands back up.

“Sometimes it’s hard to keep track because they come and go, but yeah, I think so,” you say. “Hmm, okay, I was just about to go change the kitty litter. Want to come along and distract the kittens? You wouldn’t believe how much they get in the way.”

“Sure,” Eddie agrees as he follows you down the hallway. As soon as you open the door to where the cats are kept, a cacophony of meowing floods his ears. There are different volumes and different pitches blending together to create a song of cat chaos. Eddie realizes he must be staring when he hears a soft giggle coming from your direction. Ducking his head, he clears his throat and turns towards you. “What should I do, boss?”

“Well,” you say as you walk over to a few of the cubbies the cats are residing in, “I’ll let a few out at a time, you distract them with the toys or maybe even some treats and I’ll clean their boxes. Then we try to corral them back in and start over again. Ready?”

There’s an array of cat toys on the far side of the small room. Fuzzy mice, balls that jingle, some with feathers, and a few cat wands. Eddie grabs a bag of cat treats off the shelf–which means every little eyeball in that room is on him–and settles himself on the floor next to the toys.

“Ready.”

The first batch you let out consists of five cats–ones that you know for a fact get along, you inform him. There’s a calico named Turtle, an orange and white one named Eric, an all-white called Kissy with the bluest eyes Eddie’s ever seen, and two small kittens. They’re both tabby cats with stripes, but one is grey with black stripes and the other is a soft orange with darker stripes; named Pepper and Chili respectively. Unsurprisingly, the kittens are the first ones intrigued by their new visitor. Tiny paws pad over the linoleum floor until they’re both standing right in front of Eddie. Now that they’re this close though, they get a bit shy. Their eyes are so big for their little heads, Eddie thinks, and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute they are. Chili decides to be the brave one and takes on the scary task of crawling up Eddie’s leg. 

“Jesus,” Eddie winces as sharp little claws dig through the material of his jeans and prick at his skin. You pop your head out from one of the kennels and give him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah. I don’t know why but kittens’ claws are sharper than adult cats,” you tell him.

“God, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” Eddie tells Chili as the little furball stops to sit on Eddie’s thigh. As if seeing that his brother is safe, Pepper jumps up and follows the trail the ginger cat had led. “Ah, both. Great.” His words are joking, but the way he grits his teeth as Pepper’s claws do their little pricks of damage is very real. 

Turtle makes her way over and begins to chew on the top corner of the treat bag. Kissy immediately wants Eddie to pet her, and Eric is content to sit about a foot away and watch the others interact with the human on the floor. 

You peek over your shoulder as you empty the dirty litter into the garbage can beside you, and smile when you see Pepper standing on Eddie’s lap with her two front paws pressed right over his heart. Her tiny head bobs as she inspects Eddie’s face, little pink nose twitching as it works. 

Chili has to outdo his sister and jumps right up to Eddie’s shoulder, as if he were a pirate and Chili is his trusty parrot. The ginger cat noses at Eddie’s curls before deciding to take a taste. He opens his mouth and Eddie is glad that hair doesn’t have nerve endings when Chili sinks those little needles that he calls teeth into the strand. 

By the time you get finished cleaning out the litter and refilling the food and water, Pepper is up on Eddie’s other shoulder, chewing on hair on that side of his head. Kissy is curled up in Eddie’s lap, purring contentedly as she snoozes. Turtle is still trying to figure out how to get into the treat bag, and Eric decides he can trust Eddie enough to rest his head on Eddie’s ankle. 

“Well, don’t you all look comfy,” you say as you stroll over to them. 

“Cats have no boundaries,” Eddie says with a smile.

“Not a one,” you agree.

Eventually, you get them all back in their cubby condos and are able to move on to clean the other cat’s areas.

When you get to the last one, you open the cage door and reach in. Eddie watches as you pull out an older gray and brown cat and hug it to your chest.

“How are you, Perry?” you ask before planting a kiss right between the cat’s ears. You turn towards Eddie so he can get a better view of the large feline. “This is Perry. He’s the oldest cat here and an absolute sweetheart. I would’ve brought him home with me a long time ago if my sister wasn’t allergic.”

“Hi, Perry,” Eddie says, walking closer to the two of you. He holds his fingers up and Perry gives them a quick sniff. The cat ducks his head and Eddie takes the hint, scratching wherever his hand is guided along the soft fur.

“Wow,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Perry let anyone pet him that quickly. He can be a grumpy old man when he doesn’t know someone.”

“I live with a grumpy old man,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Guess I just know how to deal with them.”

“Do you want to hold him while I clean?” you offer. 

“Sure.”

You hand the cat over and Perry quickly adjusts to being in Eddie’s arms. It’s another thing that surprises you. Perry isn’t usually a fan of being held—unless it’s by you. But the tabby seems quite content in Eddie’s arms. 

Since the last cage is the easiest to clean, you finish up with the cat room in no time.

“What now?” Eddie asks. 

A look down at your watch lets you know.

“Time for the first group of dogs to go outside.” You nod for Eddie to follow you in the direction of the dogs’ section. “We do it in groups since there’s so many of them. This way they can all get some attention and there’s less likely to be any issues or fighting.”

It’s not surprising to you that Eddie is a complete natural with the dogs when you get outside. He’s on the grass with them, rough housing, he plays fetch, and even runs laps around the yard with a few who just need to burn off their extra energy. The dogs all take to him so naturally—even the shy ones. It’s impossible not to smile as you watch the canines play with this golden retriever of a man. 

By the time the two of you bring the last round of dogs back inside, Eddie’s cheeks are rosy from exertion, his breathing is somewhat labored, and he has patches of dirt on him almost from head to toe. 

“Come here,” you say with a chuckle once you’ve snapped the last lock shut. 

There’s a battered door at the other end of the hall, and Eddie follows you over towards it. You jiggle the rusty doorknob and step into the small bathroom. There are a few stacks of towels lined up on the counter and you pull a teal one off the top of a pile. 

The scent of lemons fills the small space as you pump some hand soap onto the towel and wring it out with some water. 

You turn back to Eddie and motion for him to drop his chin. He does, and you push a few strands of curls back to wipe at the dirt on the left cheek and jawline.

“How’d you get this?” you ask with a chuckle.

“No idea,” he replies with a small huff of laughter. “I think it was when Yogi and I both dove for that tennis ball.”

The memory of Eddie and the chocolate lab both going for the toy brings a smile to your face as you clean off what you can of the dirt. 

“He’s a good boy,” you say. 

“What about me?” Eddie asks with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You laugh and toss the dirty towel in the laundry bin. 

“Yes, Eddie,” you tell him. “You were a good boy, too.”

Even though he’s the one who brought it up, he feels his face get warm.

“So, I’m actually headed out early today,” you say as you wipe your hands off on the sides of your jeans. “But I’m sure Brenda will let you know what you can do next.” It’s hard to keep the playful smirk off your face at the mention of the cantankerous receptionist.

Eddie drops his jaw and stares at you with mock annoyance.

“Playing hooky and leaving me with someone who makes Ms. O’Donnell look like a ray of sunshine? How dare you?”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“I mean, if you want to go get my cavity filled for me, I wouldn’t complain,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie winces, fighting off the urge to run his tongue over his teeth.

“Oof, okay. That’s a good excuse, I guess,” Eddie says. 

“I’m so glad you approve,” you tease. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“Sure am.”

Honestly, Eddie has no idea if he’s scheduled to come in tomorrow or not, but he hardly doubts anyone would complain if he showed up for extra volunteering. 

“I’ll see you then.”

You give him one last smile before heading to grab your bag from the back room.

The next day, all the cats and kittens meow at you the moment you step foot into their room. 

“Hello, babies,” you greet them. “How’s my man Perry doin—” Your face falls when you see Perry’s usual crate empty of the senior cat. 

Despite the cries of protest, you back out of the cat room and hastily make your way to Brenda’s desk.

“Where’s Perry?” you ask without preamble.

“Got adopted,” Brenda responds, not looking up from the old issue of People Magazine she’s flipping through. 

“Oh.” You swallow and nod your head. “Good for him.” I didn’t get to say goodbye. 

A few tears fall as you head back to the cats and begin your daily cleaning routine. You are genuinely happy that Perry has found a home. Cats of his age don’t belong in a shelter, they belong with a family. Well, all cats do, but it’s especially harder for seniors. It’s the fact that you didn’t get to give him one more scratch between his ears or kiss the back of his head one last time that is upsetting you. He was so much a part of your daily life that it already feels empty in the shelter without him.

“Hey.”

Eddie’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and hit the back of your head on the roof of Chili and Pepper’s cubby. 

“Ow.” You wince and step back, bringing your hand up to hold the sore spot.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Eddie says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you—hey, are you okay?” Eddie frowns in concern when he sees the tear tracks running down your cheeks. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” you say before wiping off your face with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m fine. Just found out that Perry got adopted and I’m bummed I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.”

“Oh.” The smile forming on Eddie’s pretty face doesn’t hold the tone of sympathy that you were expecting. He clears his throat and brings his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, um, actually, I’m the one who adopted him.”

Either your ears or brain are having a hard time grasping what Eddie just said, so it takes a few moments before it finally clicks.

“You? You adopted Perry?”

“Yeah.” There’s a prideful grin on Eddie’s face and it makes your heart rate pick up. “After you left yesterday, I went to say goodbye to him, and he kept pawing at me through the bars of the crate. I let him out and he wanted me to hold him. I kinda fell in love with him right then and there.”

Tears flood your eyes once more, but this time for an entirely different reason. 

“Oh, Eddie.” You chuckle and wipe at your misty eyes. “That makes me so happy. Perry deserves a good family, and I couldn’t have picked a better one. Thank you.”

“You can come by whenever you want to see him,” Eddie says, a nervous warble in his voice. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m sure, uh, he’d love to see you more.”

A shy smile graces your features as you reply, “I’d like that, too.”

“So, no more tears,” Eddie says, stepping forward and using his thumb to gently erase any remains of your waterworks. 

“No more tears,” you agree, taking a deep breath. 

Before you can let the thought linger and overthink it, you lean forward and wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging his body close to yours. He tentatively wraps his arms around your body before holding you just as tightly as you’re holding him. 

Reluctantly, you pull away and take a step backward.

“So, what do you say?” you ask. “Should we get to work?”

Eddie drops into a bow and makes a grand sweeping gesture towards the cat cubbies. 

“Let’s do it.”

[lexirosewrites]

Happy Slick Sunday! Here we go! This was rushed so apologies to any grammar error and such 😅:

Steve presented very late, but the moment he presented as an omega, he was kicked out right after finishing his first heat. His father wants nothing to do with him after he was such a disappointment for the last time. Blaming him for not being an alpha. Steve was left with no money, his car was taken away and he was not even allowed to pack a bag. Tossed him with nothing to his name except the money he has in his pockets…which is not a lot. There are not a lot of places he can rent at an affordable price so he goes to live at the trailer park. One trailer that was isolated from his other neighbors. His new neighbors and people in town were very nasty with him just from his designation but also that they have no sympathy for the ex golden boy of Hawkins. People began to talk and he was top gossip. Steve Harrington is the town slut! Steve Harrington Homeless! Disowned! Poor! A Nobody! Trash Omega! Some thought that he got what he deserved from the way he treated people and some thought he was just a low life omega slut since he slept with almost every girl in town before presenting. Steve spends most of his days working multiple jobs that would even hire him so he can bring food to the table and to pay rent. He pulled away from everyone, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. It’s not like anyone was going to be nice to him or make him into their omega or have pups with him. Deep down he’s starting to feel like what they are saying is true.

A month after moving into the trailer, Steve went out to check the mail and there he hears someone approaching. When he turns around, he finds Eddie Munson giving him a smirk.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that Steve Harrington? King of Hawkins High and lady’s man? Now living at the trailer park as an omega?” He teased.

Steve remains silent as he stares at Eddie with soulless eyes as Eddie continues to jab at his demise. Everything he said is not making him feel any better. His scent sours as he listens to the alpha talk. Steve is just tired. He’s alone. And he’s just done with everyone that he doesn’t even bother fighting. He was not even aware that he was crying until he noticed droplets land on some of his mail. He goes to wipe his cheek, not realizing that the Alpha in front of him has stopped talking, staring at him with his wide doe eyes with worry.

“Are you done? Cus I would like to go back inside…” Steve said at a low voice.

“I-I-shit! I didn’t mean to-“ Eddie stammers, unsure how to process this but Steve didn’t give him a chance to speak as he returns inside his tiny trailer and crawled into bed, uninterested in anything.

Steve doesn’t see Eddie again. In fact, he doesn’t speak to anyone these days. He continues to work his job and continues his life with people making low comments about him. It was his day off when he hears a knock on the door. Surprised to see Eddie again.

“Can we not Munson…?” Steve sighed.

Eddie noticed things about Steve. His eyes baggy and he looks a bit malnourished.

“Actually….i wanted to apologize. Should have come sooner but I didn’t know how to make it up to you.” Eddie fidgets, playing with his rings.

“Look, it’s fine man…just..don’t sweat it. You’re forgiven.”

Eddie smiles and bows, in a regal accent “to show my humble apologies dear sir, please accept this invitation this evening to Munson Mansion. There shall be fine dining that is of whatever grub lord Munson can provide. I shall not take any other response that isn’t yes”

Steve sighs “Alright then…”

Eddie pumps his fist in the air “yes! Right this way dear sir!”

Steve puts his shoes on, gets his keys and locks up before following Eddie to his trailer. Steve has heard in the vines that Eddie Munson lives with his uncle for a few years now. Has heard he was trailer trash and was branded as a freak. He has never paid any attention to him nor did he bother him. But now the alpha is opening the door to his home and letting him get comfortable, offering him a drink while his uncle is in the kitchen cooking something that smells heavenly. Steve hasn’t realized how hungry he was. He’s not surprised. What with only being able to afford something small to nibble, some clothes to replace what he couldn’t get when he was kicked out and putting the rest away for rent. He did notice that his clothes are looking large and his pants need to be held up. Surely the Munsons haven’t noticed.

Wayne comes over once he was finished, wiping his hands with a dish towel

“You the Harrington Kid?” He stares.

A bit skittish that once he confirms, he will be kicked out as well. Steve looks down before answering “yes sir…”

“Hm. No need for any sir talk. Wayne is plenty. Hope you’re hungry, I made plenty. Rustled up whatever we have and made a large pot for dinner. So help yourself. Boy, help set the table” Eddie gets up after complaining a little and helps his uncle set up. Then Eddie offers Steve a seat and scoops a large plateful of food, offers Steve a coke from the fridge, already nice and cold.

“Thank you…” Steve said softly, trying to be polite but also small as possible. He doesn’t want to be a rude guest but he is also afraid that the Munsons will treat him as poorly as everyone else. So far he likes having their company. It’s been a while since he had any that enjoy his presence. But he doesn’t want to ruin anything just for being the omega everyone calls him.

“So Stevie…” Eddie cuts his train of thoughts “How are you liking the neighborhood?”

Steve couldn’t help but scoff as quietly as possible “it’s okay I guess…I haven’t spoken to anyone…” only when they are shouting slurs at me “I’ve only been going to my jobs and then coming back home for a small meal, save the rest, get some sleep, and start the cycle again…”Eddie frown at that. What could he have said that could make him look like that.

“You don’t have fun? Hang out with your friends and such?” Eddie tilts his head. Steve only can shrug at that and continues to eat quietly.

“So where do you work Steve?” Wayne chimes in

“A little of everywhere really….cleaning houses…working a few hours as a cashier….and some other side jobs I can pick up that don’t mind having an omega like me work for them…” it’s starting to smell and feel sour.

“Well I can always admire a hard working man, doesn’t matter if you’re an alpha, beta, or omega. If you need any help. Don’t be afraid to ask”

Steve looks at the genuine look the oldest alpha gives him. It’s the first time someone has been really kind to him since presenting. He doesn’t want to ruin it.

“Thank you. I’ll…keep that in mind”

After dinner, Eddie walks outside to smoke, Steve bums a cigarette from him as they smoke in silence and enjoy the cool air.

“Thank you for inviting me..it’s the first time in a month I’ve had a hearty meal.”

“It’s no problem. That’s what neighbors are for. And here we help each other”

“Now that….that is not true….and you know it” he stares. “Nobody here in this trailer park or even this town has helped me or said anything nice to me….”

“I know..” Eddie sighs “I’m sorry..Wayne has already set me straight about how unkind I was to you…but from now on, I want to be there for you…at least let me be your friend…?”

Steve stares at him “why..?”

“Because after spending an evening with you, I realized you are a really cool dude. And I want to know more about you and spend time with you. And that I, Eddie the Banish of Munson Mansion, was wrong about the fair princess Stevie of the Northern Isles, and would like to get closer to the fair maiden and be his first companion.”

Steve chuckles and looks at Eddie “alright Munson. We can be friends.”

As promised, Eddie stops by Steve’s trailer to spend time with him. To invite him over to have a hearty dinner each day with him and his Uncle Wayne since Steve seems to forget to eat sometimes with how exhausted he is from working all day. They spend time together playing games, watching movies, showing Steve how to play DnD, Wayne taking Steve to watch sports with him, making Steve practically family. Along the way, they started to move closer, feeling like they are more than just friends. After some time, Eddie gave Steve a courting gift. It was one of his rings. Steve couldn’t help contain his excitement as he kisses his alpha on the cheek. And once Steve was having his heat, he invited Eddie to be there during it. And the same with Eddie asking Steve to be there during his Rut. They were perfect together. A little over a year after he was kicked out of his childhood home and was branded such slurs for being an omega, things were better for Steve. The slurs have died down after Eddie and Wayne started putting people who mistreat him in their place. Steve was able to earn enough money after applying as a daycare employee full time, now earning enough alongside Eddie’s earnings from the mechanics to be able to rent a bigger trailer for him and Eddie to live in. After 4 months of courting, they both decided to become official and mate for life. A little ceremony with only Wayne as witness. And it was just perfect. And it didn’t take them long after they were Man and Wife to announce to uncle Wayne that there will be an additional Munson on the way. Now round with pup at almost 9 months, Steve is sitting in the rocking chair in their pup’s completed nursery, learning to knit some cute baby booties as Eddie walks in to greet his omega with a kiss and placing a hand on his swollen bump, getting ready for the next chapter of their life to begin.

you guys want me to cry😭😭😭

[hypewinter]

A continuation of this

It was amazing how interesting the hors d'oeuvre table became when one was avoiding social interaction. Danny pouted as he filled yet another plate with the tiny little snack foods. He should have listened to Mom. She had warned him he wouldn't like the party but he insisted on coming too. But how could he resist? When he heard all the fun stories his uncles told, he wanted to see for himself. And his grandpa had been so happy that he wanted to come too. Danny thought he would be in for a night of excitement especially since he'd be able to stay up past his bedtime yet instead he was currently bored out of his mind. He was also incredibly uncomfortable.

Danny didn't like how all these older people kept coming up to him and asking him weird questions or squeezing his cheeks. His mom and uncles tried to intercept as many people as possible but some people had gotten to him and. Danny didn't complain though as he's the one who wanted to come anywhere and he didn't want to seem like a brat. Plus he was still holding out hope that one of his uncles would do something interesting and if he complained, he might be taken home early.

That's why Danny had taken to avoiding his mom. She was very good at reading him and was even teaching him how to read others. If she saw him it would take 0.2 seconds for her to realize he didn't want to be here anymore. Mom was really nice so she would probably take him back home when she noticed. But Danny was a big boy and big boys suck it up for uncomfortable parties that they begged to attend. Though he still wished Sam were here. Sam? Who's Sam? He couldn't remember. There were a lot of things Danny couldn't remember. Even when he tried really hard to.

"Ah so this is the newest Wayne brat!"

Danny was pulled from his thoughts and looked up to see a man staring down at him. The man's blonde hair was very shiny. Must be full of a lot of that gel Uncle Damian liked to use. But he had put on too much and now his head looked all flat and shiny. But maybe the man liked being shiny since he had a lot of gold jewelry on too.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" the man said harshly, his lazy brown eyes boring into Danny. His body language was practically screaming How dare you? Better than you. This man seemed to sway quite a lot too. Was he drunk? Mom had warned him to stay away from drunk people but it would be rude to just walk away wouldn't it?

Instead Danny put down his plate and signed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You just have really pretty jewelry sir."

The man's glare only intensified. "Huh? Whazzat? Talk damnit!" He began to project annoyance.

Danny furrowed his brows slightly. The man had said a bad word. You're not supposed to say bad words around children. At least that's what Grandpa Alfred had taught him when Uncle Jason got in trouble for saying one near him. It was also frustrating that this man didn't know any sign language.

Nevertheless, Danny pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He clicked on the first page which read, "I'm sorry, I have limited speech and use sign language to communicate. However I can use this notepad instead." He held it up for the man to read.

Yet again the man didn't seem to be satisfied as he retorted, "You can speak but you choose not to? You're an arrogant little brat aren't you?" Angry. How dare you think you're above me? Uh oh.

Danny quickly scrolled down to a blank space so that he could explain it wasn't like that but he never got the chance. The man snatched the phone from Danny's hands.

"Listen you little turd," the man hissed, leaning in close. It took all the self control in Danny's body not to gag at his breath. "You may think you're all high and mighty just because you got lucky but make no mistake. You're just gutter trash. Just like all the other pests Wayne brought into his household and just like your mother."

Tears pricked at Danny's eyes. That wasn't true. Neither his uncles nor his mother were trash. They were good people. The nicest people ever. They saved Danny from that terrible terrible place and gave him lots of hugs and sweets and warmth. This man didn't know what he was talking about.

The man continued, "You'll do well to respect me as unlike you and your little pretend family, I actually come from a distinguished background. I'm not some orphan from an unknown background whose parents probably sold him for drug money. Do you hear me?" Hostile. Don't mess with me!

"If I tell you to speak to me, you speak to me. Is that clear?" You're beneath me. Know your place.

Danny didn't know how much longer he could keep the tears at bay. Luckily he didn't have to.

"Is there a problem?" There she was. Mom! In all of her glory. Her hair done up in a little bun and dressed in a suit matching his. He had actually picked it out for her.

Danny rushed over to her and clung to her leg. Not trash he projected. My family. Meanwhile, the man's attitude did a complete 180. "Ah Ms. Cassandra it's so nice to see you again! I was just complimenting your little one on how cute his suit looked on him!"

Mom ignored him and looked to Danny instead.

What happened?

Insulted you. Insulted my family. Mean man. Bad man.

Cass gently patted Danny's head. He loved when she did that. Okay now. Don't worry.

Mom turned back to the man. "For someone so much better than everyone, you really like hanging out in the Bowery," she said. I know your secret.

The man stiffened. Does she know? How does she know? "I'm really not sure what you're referring to Ms. Wayne." Nervous. Agitated.

Mom didn't say anything. Just leveled a stare at the man. His smile began slipping in the awkward silence. Panicked. Must leave.

"Well I should probably be going now. I feel like I've had too much to drink. Perhaps I'll go sit down," the man said quickly, excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, Cass turned back to Danny. Okay? Danny buried his face into her leg. Wanna go home. In the next moment, Danny felt himself being picked up and cradled in his mother's arms. Let's go home, she portrayed with a smile. Danny desperately clung to her suit as his bottom lip wobbled.

"Sorry," he whispered. He wanted her to know he really meant it. That he was truly sorry.

He felt a kiss be planted on his forehead. "Don't be," Mom replied. Danny wrapped his arms around her neck and closed his eyes, finally letting the tears he'd been holding at bay fall. He took in the warmth and love his mother showered over him. His family wasn't trash. They were his saviors.

[streamafterlaughter]

Safe

masterlist | nav

summary: a night out with your friends turns sour, but you’re rescued by an unexpected hero

A/N: i wrote a chapter based on this post for my main fic, but feel a desperate need to write it again putting more detail into it bc i love a fictional man covered in blood idk what to tell you!!! let me know if you want a part II, im feeling a miniverse comin’ on (dw, chapter 23 of FD is in the works, i promise!) reblogs and comments always appreciated!

tags/tw: friends to lovers, mentions of sexual harassment, blood, violence (eddie gets in a fight), swearing, slut shaming, confessions, drunkish!eddie. (lmk if i missed something!) fluff, angst, slight hurt/comfort. reader and eddie are about 22-23, out of high school, happy etc etc. best friend!robin and best friend!steve feature, of course.

—

Your friendship had been simple, at first. You and Eddie had met as kids, before boys had cooties and girls were lame. Eddie had been cornered on the playground, by some giants in the grade above you. They'd shoved him against the chain link fence, their greasy leader demanding he hand over his lunch money. When Eddie blubbered that he didn’t have any, that he hadn’t eaten lunch in weeks, the goons cackled at him, shoving him to the ground while calling him things like “trailer trash.” You couldn’t stand it, even at eleven years old. The poor kid, with hair buzzed closely to his scalp, dressed in all black, carrying around a battered notebook with doodles of dragons on its cover. Your face had warmed with anger, hands balled into fists ready to swing on the group that would outnumber you five to two, or five to one if you were being realistic. This kid clearly wasn’t a fighter.

“Hey!” You had shouted, stomping your worn out converse against the mulch of the playground. “What the hell are you doing, Jared?” You hadn’t been afraid to get in the kid’s face, brows furrowed together as you jabbed your tiny finger into his puffed out chest. “What’s he ever done to you, huh? I don’t think it’s his fault your mother left.” You know now, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it had worked. Jared’s goons had gone silent, anticipating his retort, but all he’d done was cry. What a bitch.

When he’d run, tail tucked between his legs, you’d turned to the cowering boy behind you, offering your hand. “You okay?”

He’d nodded, clearly still shaken up but trying to be brave. “I can take care of myself.” Of course, it had been embarrassing. Not because you were a girl, or younger than him, but you were braver. You didn’t give a shit what people thought of you. Even then, he could tell. You were fucking cool.

”Yeah, sure looked like it. Whatever. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand to him again, this time to shake, like you were a seasoned lawyer, or something.

“Eddie.” He’d taken your hand, given it a brief shake, but you could tell he was nervous by the way your palm stuck to his.

”Hi, Eddie. You wanna walk to Benny’s with me? Get some burgers?”

He’d shaken his head. “I don’t have money.”

You’d only shrugged. “I got it.” You didn’t think mentioning that Benny was your uncle, or that you and your friends could always eat free, was worth mentioning. From that day on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

—

The Hideout is loud. You’re wrapped around your best friend’s arm as he leads you through the bar. It’s the only time you’ve seen this place busy, let alone filled with people that don’t qualify for a discount at Denny’s.

The crowd must be the fault of the band. They're full of life on the tiny stage in the back of the bar, somehow convincing patrons to take to the sticky wooden floor to dance.

“You wanna drink, sweets?” You hear him even over the loud music, like a siren call meant only for you.

“Yes, please!” You look up at Eddie, who’s already staring at you. His rich brown eyes sparkle in the dancing stage lights, and you find your tongue in knots at the sight of him.

He nods, sliding his jacket from your shoulders before seating you at a table. “I’ll be right back!” He promises before skipping off to the bar. You keep your eyes trained on him, hypnotized by the way he glided towards the bar, weaving between the mass of gyrating bodies.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him started changing. You assume it had to have been high school. He started growing his hair out, dressing in leather and denim, and listening to a lot of heavy metal. Something about it was attractive to you, watching your best friend become the man he is now, at twenty three years old.

Even with an exterior most find scary, Eddie is still the kindest soul you know. That’s what really pulled you in. He’s always treated you with kindness and care, never once letting you leave his house angry, and knowing just what to say to calm you down. He always makes sure you’re home safe after a night drinking, sometimes even willing to forfeit his own fun to drive you to your place, or crash at his trailer.

Of course, these feelings have stayed stuffed deep, deep down. You can’t bring yourself to ruin what you have with him, risking your closest friendship to maybe be told what you want to hear.

“Hey! You still in there?” Eddie waves his decorated hand a few inches from your face, and you’re dragged back to earth. He places your drink on the table in front of you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He rests his chin on his knuckles, full attention on you, and you feel your face warm.

“Just happy to be out with you is all.” Not a lie, but not exactly the truth. Safe.

“Alright.” He’s never been one to pry. “You wanna dance?” The song has changed to something slower, and you try not to read into his timing as you nod your head cautiously, taking Eddie’s hand as he leads you to the floor.

Eddie places his hands on either of your hips, and you can’t help but stiffen. “This alright?” He must have felt it too.

“Yes, yeah,” You stumble to reassure him, nervous you’ll scare him off. He’s always been such a gentleman, so careful with you.

You drape your arms around his neck loosely, casually. Safely. Still just two friends, swaying to some angst ridden tune you can’t understand the words to.

—

It’s later when Steve and Robin arrive, already drunk from spending the night at a concert in the city. You’re still not down for the count, and Eddie’s nursing his sixth drink of the night as the music has switched from guitar driven to computer beats coming from a turntable.

“Since when does The Hideout hire DJs?” Robin shouts over the bass driven music, eyes squinting in the bright lights.

“Ever since the place sold to some big wig in Indy, they’ve been doing this shit on weekends!” Eddie informs her as Steve starts talking about how “this is actually a great business tactic.” You decide now is a good time to slip back to the bar for a refill.

Unfortunately, you are one of about fifty people to have that idea, and you groan as you fight to find an open space along the counter. You mumble “excuse me” after “sorry” after “move, please!” until you’ve almost reached the front. As you’re about to order, you feel a hand squeeze your ass.

You whip your head around, and come face to face with a large, muscular man in a tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans.

“Hey, baby,” He winks, the disgusting smirk on his face sending a chill through your body. “You here all by yourself, gorgeous?” Your throat tightens. This is what it’s like, you know that. You shouldn’t be by yourself, that was your mistake. Your throat tightens, impossibly dry, before looking back up at this man. He is seemingly a foot and a half taller than you, likely able to break you in half using only his bicep, and he’s is standing way too close. You can even smell the whiskey on his tongue. “Uh, well,”

“Cmon, let’s go dance, huh?” He interrupts, snatching your wrist with an iron grip, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he leads you towards the dance floor, already formulating an escape route. You’ll say you need to use the bathroom, then you’ll find your friends and leave. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately as you reach the dance floor, the song slows again and you find yourself flush against this beast of a man, his big arms caging you into his chest. You feel the tears start to well in your eyes, blurring your already obscured vision. Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize you are completely, fully, and hopelessly trapped.

—

“Sooo,” Robin turns to Eddie, who’s been staring across into space, daydreaming about you for the last five minutes. “Where’s your girl?”

“What?” He’d heard her, but he wants to hear it again. And again and again.

“Your baby, dingus! You’re one true-“

“Would you shut up?” He interrupts her slurring of teasing, aching jabs, feeling his face heat up with every syllable. “She’s not my- y’know, she’s not mine.”

“Oh, please!” Steve snorts, causing Eddie to whip his head to look at him. “We all know she’s yours, and you’re hers, and all that romantic bullshit, okay? No use trying to squirm out of it. Be grateful you got that much. We all know she loves you.”

He rolls his eyes, but his heart is skipping with each word. He wants to believe them, desperately. He can’t bring himself to have those hopes, though, not about you. He’d only disappoint you, or scare you off when he got too close. It’s better, keeping you at a distance. Safer.

“Is that… No,” Robin looks beyond Eddie, and he turns to follow her gaze. He finds you easily, the only figure he’d recognize in such a loud, multicolored environment. You’re squished against a boulder of a man as you sway to the music, but he can’t see your face. Eddie feels his heart catch in his throat as he turns back to his friends.

“See? I told you she’s not mine.” He clears his throat when he hears his own voice crack. Not fucking now.

“Who is that guy?” Steve asks, craning his neck to get a better view.

“Probably just some club sleaze, she’s probably not even having fun.” Robin shrugs. Her comment clicks in Eddie’s brain before it clicks in her own, though.

“I gotta go.” He shoves himself from the table.

“Should I go with him?”

Robin shrugs. “That dude is gigantic. Maybe watch his back.”

—

“Hey, um,” The song has ended, and you need to get the fuck out of here. “I’ll be right back, I gotta use the ladies’ room,” You peel yourself away from him, but he grabs your arm before you can.

“Nuh uh, you can use the bathroom at my place. C’mon.” There will be no talking yourself out of this. Usually you can confuse a man into leaving you alone, but this guy’s different. You can sense the danger, the complete lack of empathy, like it’s a scent he’s giving off. You have to make a scene.

You twist your arm, writhing to get out of his grip, when you feel the cooling rings of a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is low, so this man/monster can’t hear him. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Hang on.” He moves in front of you, between you and the giant causing him to drop your arm. There’s an angry red ring of his lasting grip around your wrist. “You gotta problem, buddy?” The guy puffs his chest out at Eddie, like some weird, animalistic instinct to seem bigger. Like he needs that advantage.

“Yeah, I do. Why were your hands on my girl?”

You try not to think about the words too much. Despite the situation though, you feel your heart skip. Steve joins him beside you, placing his hand on your other shoulder protectively.

“Your girl, huh? Well your girl’s a fuckin’ slut then, she’s been dancing with me for the last ten minutes.”

“What the fuck did you just call her, you prick?”

“You heard me bitch boy, she’s a slut! And I like my girls dirty.” Before Eddie can respond, the guy swings his arm into Eddie’s unsuspecting face as you watch, frozen and helpless. Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle the shriek, but you catch the attention of some nearby patrons.

Eddie doesn’t go down, though. The adrenaline keeps him on his feet. “Oh, we’re doin’ this now?” Eddie smirks as he wipes the blood from his split lip. “Cmon, I know you got more in ya than that. You’re massive!” Eddie taunts him before launching at the guy, managing to double him over with a punch to the gut. “You’ll have to do more than that if you want her, big guy. I’ll lay down my fuckin’ life in this bar for that woman.”

The crowd has now turned their attention to where Eddie’s got the brute in a headlock. He gets one more punch in before his opponent breaks out of his grasp, sending his elbow straight into Eddie’s nose. “Oh, ho, ho,” Eddie cackles maniacally as he lifts away from the counter, blood now dripping from his nostrils into his mouth, staining his skin and his shirt. “Look at you, tough guy.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the bar floor. “Real big of you beatin’ on someone a quarter your size.”

Before anyone else can make a move, the bouncers are rushing up behind them, escorting both men out the front entrance while you follow behind with Steve and Robin. It takes six guys to move the giant, leaving Eddie to comply with the disgruntled manager. You watch as your adversary curses at Eddie before walking into the night, disappearing before anyone could think to call the cops.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Robin is laughing nervously as she looks between you and Eddie, then to Steve with that annoying, know-it-all glint in her eyes.

“Eddie, he could have fuckin’ killed you!” Steve, ever the babysitter, scolds his friend with an elbow to his ribs, causing Eddie to wince in pain.

“Yeah, maybe, but if it meant keeping her safe-,” He cuts himself off as he meets your teary eyes. “Oh, no. Sweets, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, barely able to look at the bloody boy in front of you. He’s hurt because of you. You were supposed to keep him safe.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie.” You whisper, afraid your voice will betray you for speaking at full volume. “You shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have let you.” The tears are warm on your cheeks when they spill, and as quickly as they do, you have six arms wrapped around you.

—

“Get some rest, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You shut the cab door behind you before following Eddie into his trailer. You don’t want to be alone tonight, and Eddie has graciously offered a sleepover at his place.

“How’s your face?” You ask, already on your way to the freezer for an ice pack.

“I’m fine, honey, I promise.” His voice says otherwise, low and scratchy from a night of straining it. “How are you doing, though?”

It’s a loaded question. How are you supposed to feel, watching your best friend risk his life for you? You’re grateful, sure, but the guilt eats at you still. “I’m just so, so sorry Eddie,” You carefully lift your hand to caress his swollen cheek. “You really didn't have to do that.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself.” He shakes his head, wincing in pain. “I meant what I said. I’d risk my life to keep you safe.”

You shake your head, not accepting his answer. “Why?” It’s meek, barely a whisper as you blot the remaining blood from his lip.

“What do you mean why?” His words are muffled by the tissue.

You huff, getting upset despite yourself. “You’re telling me you’d put yourself in danger if it meant keeping me out of it? What’s the point? Why do that to yourself because I’m too stupid to make the right decisions? What do you gain from that?”

He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “Do I have to gain something from it? I do it because I love you, y/n. Simple as that.” You gape at him, and he rolls his eyes, the beginning of a smirk twitching on his face. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“It would be helpful, yes.” You’re just about begging now, the nervous sweat causing your shirt to stick to you.

“Sweets, I accepted that I would die for you a long fuckin’ time ago. If it meant keeping you happy, I would tie myself to the train tracks. Or, in this case, let some fucker twice my size beat the living shit out of me.”

You can’t accept it, logically. Your brain won’t let you believe any of his claims. “But I don’t-“

“No.” His voice is stern, almost scolding. “No more of that ‘I don’t deserve you’ shit. Okay? Absolutely not. Because you do. You saved my life all those years ago, and I promised myself I’d make sure to protect yours, too. You are my best friend, and the absolute love of my life, so I’m gonna give you everything I’ve got.” He laces his fingers with yours, and you watch as his rings catch the light.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me, I’ll never ask you for that, it wouldn’t be fair. But I can’t stand by when you’re in trouble, it’s not what I do.”

Your heart is fighting to free itself from your ribcage. It wants to jump from your skin, straight into Eddie’s open palms. Though the ever present coward in you wishes to curl up inside yourself and hide from him, everything else in your body is being pulled towards him, compelled as if by nature.

Before you even notice you’re crying again, Eddie wraps himself around your shaking frame, rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you sob, open mouthed and ugly, into his t-shirt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He coos, and you focus on his breathing, matching the pace to calm the stutter of your cries.

You claw at his jacket, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and pine soap. You need him closer. He tightens his grip on you, and you look up to face him. His own cheeks are wet with tears, his eyes screwed shut trying to stifle the bite of the wracking sobs you know the strength of well. This is the only chance you’re getting, so you move with calculation. Despite the anxious pounding of your heart, and everything in your head telling you that he’s not yours and never could be, you crane your neck to reach Eddie’s split and swollen lips, squeezing your eyes shut as you place your mouth on his, ever so gently.

Before Eddie can react, you’re gone, face inches away from him as his eyes flutter open. “Whoa. Uh, w-what… what are you doing?” He sputters, face now bright red, and you feel your own cheeks blush.

“I’m- I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed… ” You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the shame, feeling the fire in your stomach. You have just ruined years of friendship, and for one stupid kiss! But Eddie’s beaming, and he’s still gripping you close to him. “I've just wanted to do that for so long.” You admit shyly, shifting against his grip, ready to retreat, but he holds you tighter.

“Can you do it again?” His voice is more confident now. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but when you look at him, it’s undeniable.

You mirror his smile, nodding before leaning into him again. He makes the connection, taking the lead as your body contorts around his, lips locking together as he holds you flush against him. His lips are so soft, and he’s so gentle with you, even though you can tell he’s eager, like maybe he’s also wanted to do this for a while. The thought causes you to smile against his lips, and you feel his own lips stretch against yours as your hands move from his shoulders to his hair.

One of his hands moves from your waist to caress your face, holding your jaw like a precious pearl he’s discovered after years at sea. Your tears fall freely now, ones of overwhelming love for Eddie, ones you never could have hoped to shed, content letting them simmer in the pit of your throat if it meant keeping your best friend. You’re breathless when he lets you go, fighting the urge to chase after his lips. After almost a decade of wondering what Eddie would taste like, what kissing him would feel like, now you get to know. “I have been in love with you since that day on the playground,” He confesses, tightening his arms around your waist to keep you close. “But I’m such a chicken shit, I didn’t wanna ruin anything. You were so sweet to me, I couldn’t risk losing that, losing you.” The words seem to spill from him now, like he’s been craving to tell you. You suppose he has.

You take in the sight of your best friend, battered and bruised for the sake of your honor, like a knight thrown into battle without armor. He’s beautiful, even in black and blue. You bring your hand to his cheek, rubbing small circles on his skin as he leans into your touch. You could stay here forever, you think. “I love you too, Eds. I have for as long as I can remember.” He smiles at you, lip splitting again but he doesn’t even flinch. You return the grin, feeling your cheeks ache from how wide you’ve stretched your mouth. “Thank you for keeping me safe.” You kiss him again, letting yourself taste the blood he’d spilled for you, a silent promise that you’ll make sure he never has to again.

-

taglist @children-of-the-grave :p

[kinardsevan]

Okay, prompt. Tommy and Buck are having slow shifts and one of them decides to call the other.

consider this as existing in the same timeline as to can’t outdrive pain (someday it’s gonna take the wheel)

we survive

Tommy sighs, pushing a piece of paper across the table.

“Riley, you have to at least try to make your art not be derogatory,” he states in a gentle but firm tone. “Miss Sidney isn’t going to let this fly.”

Riley rolls his eyes, tossing a conte crayon onto the table. Charcoal scatters as it cracks in half, and the teenager crosses his arms. Tommy frowns, reaching out for the crayon and setting it back inside the box he’d brought with him.

He’s no stranger to Riley’s moods six months into this endeavor. What had begun as a way to fill some time after breaking his elbow and having to miss weeks of work has become part of his weekly ritual now, occasionally twice a week when he can swing the extra time. Evan has joined him a number of times when the time off has lined up, but today he’s alone.

Riley Collins was almost sixteen and had a rough background, one Tommy could relate to only too well. His mom had died when he was three, and he was left with an alcoholic father who cared so little that at seven, he’d been found digging in a neighbors trash can for food. That had begun the teen’s childhood in foster care, but it hadn’t been the end of it. He’d cycled through multiple foster homes with while struggling with attachment issues. There was a year-long period when Riley was eleven where his father had gotten sober, regained custody, and things seemed like they might get better. Except, Riley had been the ringer by that point. He’d lived in homes with emotional and verbal abuse. He’d seen parents hit each other, and occasionally hit the children. He’d seen sexual abuse through the tiny window of where his blankets didn’t completely cover his eyes when cries of his foster siblings woke him in the middle of the night. He’d faced some of those situations himself, and by the time he cycled back into his fathers home, he wasn’t the same little kid who had learned to become self-sufficient when his father was lost to the bottle.

Either way, Riley’s father made it six months before his sobriety with Riley back home went to hell. There was a DWI, and then an occurrence where Riley showed up to school with a black eye and bloodied nose. Then he was locked out of the house. CPS was still so involved at that point that he was quickly placed back in foster care, but the writing was on the wall at that point. Even though he’d been placed with a family with good values, he was a mess. There were stolen things, broken possessions, a flirtation with breaking the law. Ultimately though, it was a full-on brawl he got into with an uncle which led to his placement in the group home. And the thing was, he was a great student. He could stay invested in his school work and the routine it required without a problem. But when it came to people…he was a mess.

Tommy couldn’t help but reflect that back to his own childhood.

“This is so fucking lame anyway,” Riley bemoans.

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? You seemed to think it was cool three days ago.”

“What the fuck do you know, old man,” Riley replies, scowling at him. He shoves away from the table, and Sidney is up out of her chair quickly, already calling after him, but Tommy raises a hand to her.

“Let me go,” he tells her softly. Their group is usually a bit bigger, but with school being back in session, half of them have signed up for extracurriculars, so there’s only three today, and Sidney has the other two pretty well covered with whatever they’re drawing.

She looks at him with a hint of apprehension, but then nods, settling back into her chair.

Tommy picks up his sketchbook and moves around the table, walks out the back door toward a picnic table where Riley is pushing a stick into the aged wood, trying to peel a piece of loose long grain with it. He dares a glance up at Tommy and then sighs, looking back down at the table.

“Hey kid. You wanna tell me what that was all about,” he asks, crossing the space between them but still staying a few feet away.

Riley huffs but doesn’t answer as he keeps pushing at the picnic table with the stick. Tommy frowns, taking a few more steps forward and sitting down on the opposite side of the table. He reaches into the pocket of his shirt and pulls out a tin of Altoid Sours. He pops one in his mouth and then offers one to Riley. When the kid doesn’t immediately take one, Tommy rests the tin on the table between them.

“You know, I used to make a lot of really violent art,” Tommy states. “Still have some of it. Drawings of people getting stabbed, gunshot wounds.”

“Bet Miss Sidney would love to hear that right now,” Riley states sarcastically.

Tommy shrugs. “Probably not. But it was how I dealt. Especially with the people who hurt me when I was your age.” He flips his sketchbook back to the front before setting in front of Riley on the table. The first few pages have older, yellowed paper taped in. It’s been crumpled and some of it is shredded, but Riley looks up at it, skims over the images. He sets the stick down and flips a page over as something that looks suspiciously like comic paneling tells the story of a child and his abusive father. He watches the way Riley runs his fingers over the paper, touches the images.

“What do you know about abuse anyway, old man,” Riley murmurs softly, anger still present in his voice.

“More than you’d think, kid,” Tommy replies. When the teen looks up at him, Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “First of all, I wasn’t always this built or lean. And me at thirteen, on the huskier side and gay? That didn’t go over all that well in my home.”

Riley doesn’t let on his emotional response to Tommy’s explanation, but he keeps flipping through the pages in the sketchbook. A drawing of a war zone. Drawings of mass military graves. Dog tags. Bloodied fists with colored pastels.

“Least you got out,” Riley comments after a few minutes of silence. “Had someone to help.”

Tommy gives a haughty laugh. “I went to the military to get out. I didn’t have anyone waiting at home if I made it back from Iraq. Everything I’ve done, I’ve had to do on my own.”

There’s still a scowl on Riley’s face, but the ire seems to sink out of it as he listens to Tommy.

“I was not cool when I came back, either,” he adds. “I was really shitty to people I now consider friends. Spent a lot of years alone because I couldn’t figure out how to just connect with people.”

“Least you found people who wanted you around,” Riley grumbles, his voice still soft, like he doesn’t actually want Tommy to hear him. “I got two years.”

Tommy sighs. He’s not sure whether saying something is a good idea. There are still too many what ifs and probabilities for him to be sure.

“You know, Evan and I have been talking to Miss Sidney,” he states in a quiet tone. Riley finally reaches out and takes one of the altoids, pops it into his mouth. His eyes slowly raise, though he doesn’t look directly at Tommy. “But we can’t do anything if you keep showing this kind of attitude in program. They won’t consider it a good placement.”

Riley’s brown eyes meet his then, his sandy blonde hair half hanging in them. He stares at Tommy with a bewildered expression.

“Hailey is-..”

Tommy shakes his head, cutting Riley off. Of course the kid would think they’d want a young child. “Hailey doesn’t fit in our home. She’s six. She needs a mom.”

“Dakota-“

“Doesn’t like fire trucks,” Tommy comments, in reference to another one of the younger kids.

Riley looks up at him, brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you two want a baby?”

Tommy lets out a small laugh. “Do you know how long the adoption process is for an infant? Never mind surrogacy.” He can’t help the warmth in his chest at the fact that for all of Riley’s questions, the idea of living in a house with two men in a committed (carnal) relationship isn’t one of them.

Riley is quiet again for a few moments as he closes Tommy’s sketchbook and places it back on the table.

“I age out in 798 days,” he mutters.

Tommy takes a breath and shrugs again. “Well. I guess that leaves us roughly twenty-two thousand more to have you around with us, five of take a few thousand,” he states. “You know, if you want to.”

Riley looks up at him through his eyelashes with an expression that’s trying suspiciously not to reflect any kind of hope. Tommy recognizes it from the one he had when he’d been told he was going back to live with his father at thirteen. He narrows his gaze slightly as he reaches out for his sketchbook.

“You know, Evan makes a mean shepherd’s pie,” he comments, sliding the book back over. “I could probably get him to whip one up tonight. He’s supposed to be off shift soon.”

“T-tonight,” Riley stammers.

“Only if you want to,” Tommy replies. “And if you apologize in front of Miss Sidney. I kinda promised her you’d be a good fit and you’re making me look bad right now.”

The slightest bit of an upturn happens at the corners of Riley’s mouth. Tommy nods, reaching out for the altoids tin. He closes it and pops it back in his pocket.

. . .

Hours later, in the silence of their home, Evan rests his chin on Tommy’s shoulder as they stand in the doorway of what they expect to become Riley’s bedroom. The teen is sprawled across the Queen-sized bed and a pillow that Tommy finds to be suspiciously similar to one from his and Evan’s bed is wrapped tightly in the teen’s arms.

“Dare I say, he’s a little attached to us,” Evan whispers to Tommy.

Tommy chuckles, pointing up to the T-shirts tacked up to a cork board on the wall. “That was his idea.”

Both shirts are worn and faded, one from the 118 and the other from Harbor. The vinyl is half-peeled from the shirts, and only the outline of Tommy’s last name remains on the shirt that belonged to him from how much use it’s seen.

“Who would’ve thought he’d like us that much,” Evan jokes. He tilts his head, resting his cheek on Tommy’s shoulder.

“I think he feels seen. Understood,” Tommy murmurs back. He takes a breath, looking down at Evan. “He asked if he could take both last names.”

Evan smiles wearily at Tommy. “He can have whatever he wants.”

Tommy lets out a soft chuckle, although he stiffens when Riley moves on the bed, only to settle a few seconds later with a contented sigh.

“And this is why you’re not in charge of the budget right now,” he comments. “He’ll have you talked into a car and three gaming systems in under twenty-four hours.”

Evan scowls at Tommy, turns his head and bites his shoulder. Tommy grunts softly, turning toward him. He pushes Evan gently out of the room, across the hall into their bedroom, easing the door shut quietly.

“Let’s not traumatize the kid on his first night home,” he states, framing Evan’s face with his hands before he dives in for a heated kiss. Evan moans softly into his mouth, fisting Tommy’s shirt.

“Well then, I guess you’re just gonna have to drown me out with the shower,” Evan replies, tugging Tommy back towards the en-suite.

And he does.

[nereidof40k]

The first meeting between Verity and her uncles. No warnings except for Roboute and Lion being stupid.

Roboute glared at Cawl, who was yet again complaining about losing his assistant.

“No. Don’t even start. You are not getting your assistant back. My niece is not your tool.”

As Cawl was about to start interrupting again, Roboute heard a voice from the corner near the door. “You forgot something.”

He looked over, eyes widening. “Konrad?!”

The pale figure with long black hair sighed and rubbed their forehead. “No.”

All he could see was a tiny version of Curze. Looking like they had found their clothes in the trash. Looking back at the seething Cawl, Roboute shook his head. “This conversation is over.”

As he was about to walk past mini Konrad, they looked up. Throne. If Konrad had ever figured out that puppy eye look he could have gotten the Imperium by walking up to the Emperor with that expression on his face.

“Come on” Roboute told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her with him. Apparently this was a girl Konrad. Small enough that she had to sprint to keep up with him.

Giving her wary looks as they walked. “If not Konrad, what do I call you?” Looked docile and calm enough, but who knew? Curze was unpredictable.

Face expressionless, she looked up at him. “I would prefer Verity.”

Roboute nodded.

As they reached the main hallway, he could see Lion coming towards them. His face looking like a thunderstorm as he spotted the small ragged figure next to Roboute.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Curze?” He barked.

Verity eyed him flatly. “This must be the famed el’Johnson charm.” Though her Gothic was otherwise flawless, she had a strong Nostraman accent.

Before they could come to blows, as Lion’s hand curled into a fist, Verity continued. “I was not aware that the noble Primarch of the First Legion enjoyed frightening little girls. How knightly.” Noticing people were starting to give him looks, Lion sighed. Letting his hand drop.

As they walked, all three of them, Roboute wondered what to do with this kid.

Eyeing him with black, too knowing eyes, she spoke again. “Have you seen Alyena? I was getting worried.” This was such an un-Konrad statement that Lion almost stumbled. Barely catching himself from measuring the floor with his entire body.

“My niece should be in the library reading.” Lion stated.

Verity nodded. Looking deep in thought.

Moments later Alyena came running down the hallway, throwing herself into the other girl’s arms with a laugh. “Cousin.” Verity greeted her, squeezing tightly. Definitely was going to have to tolerate mini Konrad if she made Alyena that happy. Roboute wished he had a drink. Why did his niece have such horrible taste in people? Clearly she needed a good father figure.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy this, you can buy me a Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

The sounds around him were different from what he was used to—no gunfire or heavy footsteps, no shoutings from Price about night ambushes, no Johnny’s loud snoring. Simon peered through heavy eyelids, finding out it’s just the bloody annoying birds chirping outside. Groaning, he turned his aching body and reached his arms out.

Only to find the other side of the bed empty of his wife’s presence. Simon furrowed his brows, frowning. God, he’s such a grumpy old bastard, isn’t he?

Simon jerked upright, alerted by the clattering sound coming from outside the bedroom—the old dog instincts in him kicked in, only to be quickly quelled by his more recently acquired instincts shaped by the realities of the last seven years. He got up from the bed, trying not to be too agitated, making his way to investigate.

Upon entering the kitchen, his shoulders sagged with relief as he laid his eyes on the sole culprit—crouching on the floor, attempting to tidy up a mess of spilled milk and cereal with a torn kitchen towel. No doubt the source of the noise.

Walking over slowly so as not to scare her, he then asked, “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”

Gianna whipped around in a flash like a criminal caught in the act, her big brown eyes gleaming with a touch of guilt but not a trace of fear. "I dropped my cereal," she confessed succinctly, mirroring a trait she had unquestionably inherited from her father.

He crouched down next to her. “’Ere, let me help you with that,” then reached out, taking the paper towel from her tiny hands and started cleaning up.

Gianna just watched him until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“’S alright, darlin’. Accidents ‘appen.” Simon stated, rising to his feet and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He then turned his attention back to his daughter. “But you could’ve woke me up. I’d ‘ave helped you clean it up straight away.”

“I know, but you were sleeping. An’ mum says you sleep like a… like a… clog?”

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I think you mean a log, love.” He corrected.

“Oh right!” The little girl exclaims, nodding her head. “Tha’s the word. You sleep like a log.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever yer mum says.” He glanced at the box of cereal still sitting on the kitchen counter, then decided to keep himself and his daughter away from it. “So cereal is no option then. What d’you want for breakfast instead?”

Without missing a beat, Gianna chirps, “Ice cream!”

Simon snorts, shaking his head. “Can’t ‘ave ice cream for breakfast, darlin’.”

Gianna tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at him questioningly. "Why not?" she asked. “Mummy 'as coffee for breakfast, alllll the time!” she spreads her arms out for dramatic effect—he chuckles at that. Definitely got it from mommy.

“Yeah, don’t be like yer mum, alright?”

The girl frowns slightly. “But why not? Mummy’s pretty, an’ she cooks good food.”

Something he couldn’t disagree with. He nodded, reaching out to ruffle her blonde hair. “That she does, darlin’. But we still don’t want you havin’ coffee or ice cream for breakfast, alright?”

"Okay, then can we go to Uncle John's house?" she asked.

“An’ why’s that?”

Gianna bounced on her toes, her arms swinging. “I miss Buddy an’ Daisy!”

Simon groaned inwardly. Should’ve known she’d bring that up. Ever since that one time he brought her to Price’s place and she met his dogs, Gianna has been begging to go back. Every time after school—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” Every weekend—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” And the thing is, the bloody mutts aren’t even there anymore, not since Price and his missus divorced.

“The dogs ain't there anymore, love.” He watched her face fall.

"Why not?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “Cause,” he trailed off, not really wanting to explain the whole messy divorce situation to a five-year-old. “Nevermind that. What d’you want for breakfast?”

Instead of answering, Gianna crossed her arms while frowning. “I don’t want breakfast. I want Buddy an’ Daisy!

A sigh escaped Simon as the results of his parenting bit him in the ass. Bloody hell, he had to stop surrendering to her big eyes and pouting lips—just like her mum. She had learned from the best, hadn’t she? Got him wrapped around her tiny finger. There was only one trick up his sleeve to get her to cooperate.

“If you don’t eat breakfast, then then we won’t be able to go an’ watch yer mum later.”

And sure enough, Gianna’s whole expression lit up, renewed. She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. Seems like he got himself a drama queen.

“We’re gonna watch Mum?!” she asked, full of hope.

Simon nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression but always failing because of her antics. “As long as you behave an’ eat breakfast.”

The five-year-old was cheering, jumping, and doing her little dances in unbridled energy—just like her mum. He guessed it was true what Garrick said that day the lads visited the two of you at the hospital after Gianna was born—“She’s a perfect blend of the both of you.”

“Pancakes! I want pancakes!” Gianna squeals, scampering to the cabinet where the flour is stored. “Come on, Daddy! Let's eat breakfast so we can go an' watch Mummy!"

When the evening draws near, Gianna is already in the bathroom. Lately, she's been insisting on bathing herself, saying she's a “big girl” now. But he guessed it's more because she wants to play with her Barbie doll in the water, using up all the soap in the process.

“Don't take too long, alright? We've gotta be out the door by five.” He says.

"Okay!" Gianna chirps back, not really listening to him, too busy splashing around and chatting to her plastic friend.

Keeping the door open to ensure her safety, Simon stepped out to attend to his own tasks. Seems like it was yesterday when she was just a little baby, lying in the bath support, her tiny legs kicking every time you would rinse the soap off her soft skin. Time indeed flies so fast; one moment, she is just a baby who struggles to stand on her wobbly legs, and the next, she insists on doing everything independently.

Simon let out a heavy sigh, turning to your shared bedroom to pull on a fresh button up. As he’s closing the dresser drawer, the sound of his phone ringing caught his attention. He read the caller ID before accepting it and lifting it to his ear.

“’Ello?”

“Hey, are you on your way yet?” Your familiar voice comes through the line.

Glancing over to the half-open bathroom door, where he could hear the faint sounds of Gianna splashing and talking to herself, he then said, “The kid's in the bath.”

“Okay, okay,” You said, he could hear some shifting on the other side. “Make sure you bring her coat—the brown one. It's so cold today, I don't want her to get—”

“I got it, love.” He cuts you off gently, assuring you easily. “Just focus on yer ballet. I'll make sure she's all bundled up, alright?”

A chuckle from you—one that brought a smile to his own lips. Always the overthinker, his wife. He walked over to grab Gianna's towel and placed it atop a small chair near the bathtub, then held up five fingers, communicating the remaining time she had left before she had to get out.

“I’m on a break right now,” you tell him, voice soft, whispering. “I… I miss you, and Gianna too.”

He can’t help the smile spreading at that. “That so?”

“Yes,” you admit, he imagines you clutching the phone tightly against your ear like he’s seen you do so often. “Being here, rehearsing for the show, you two are all I can think about. I want to get this over with and go home.”

“Think she misses you too,” he murmurs.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she's been jumpin’ about when I mentioned we're gonna watch you.”

“That’s nice,” he could hear the smile in your voice. Then, a small pause between you before you asked again, “Um, do you… Do you miss me too?”

A low, amused chuckle escaped him at your shy question, and he compares it to a schoolgirl trying to gauge her chances with her crush. This is your husband you are talking to. He couldn't help but find the conversation amusing—and yet, he couldn't deny the warmth that rose to color his cheeks.

“What you actin’ all shy an’ coy for, eh?” he teased, “We’ve been married for seven bloody years now, ain’t we? Course I miss you, sweetheart.”

Simon could hear you take a deep breath. “Well, I just… Well, you just got home from deployment, and we haven't really had time together before I got to do rehearsals, so I feel kind of…”

“Ah, I see,” Simon murmurs, voice dropping to a low, rumbling tone. He glanced to the bathroom to make sure Gianna was still out of earshot before continuing, “Feelin' a bit starved for attention, are we, love? Maybe we should call up Johnny, see if 'e can come 'n babysit the mite for a night. Give us a chance to… reconnect, eh?”

You suck in a sharp breath at his words, heat rising to your cheeks and somewhere else from his implication. For a moment, you are silent; another minute passes, and Simon almost thinks the call has been cut off until your soft, discreet whisper finally cuts through.

“… Do you think the phone company records calls like this?”

At that, he laughed. “Why? You plannin' on sayin' somethin' naughty?”

“No! No, not at all!” You stammered; he can almost feel your embarrassment through the phone. “I-I was just… curious, that's all.”

It was amusing. How easily he could make you all worked up and flustered, even after nearly ten years of being together—dating, marriage, and even a kid thrown in the mix. He heard you take another deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

“Don't forget the special pass, okay? They won't let you in the theater without it.” You reminded him.

“I’ll find another way in if I ‘ave to.”

“Simon, I'm serious,” you say, voice firm. “You can't just sneak in. They'll never let you—"

You pause for a moment; Simon assumes you're focused on whatever's going on in the background. He catches the sound of a voice calling your name, saying something about returning to the stage. Then, you sigh into the phone.

“I gotta go. Stage check,” you explain, almost apologetically. “But don't forget the coat and the pass, okay? I need you there, Simon. Both of you.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Love ya. See you soon.”

“I love you too.”

With that, Simon ended the call. He pivoted back to the bathroom; the gentle sound of splashing water reached his ears. “Alright, darlin’, time's up," he called out. "Let's get you dried off an' ready to go.”

“Okay!”

A short while later, the two Rileys found themselves inside Gianna's pistachio-colored room—the little girl still wrapped up in her towel like a burrito—both standing in front of the dresser. The sound of her damp feet tapping the floor filled the air as Simon swept his eyes over the colorful options in the closet.

“Alright, then,” he said, looking down at her. “What do you want to wear today?”

Gianna scrunches up her face in deep concentration, brows furrowed, lips pouting in consideration before finally pointing to a rather… mismatched combo of clothes. A bright pink tutu, a neon green t-shirt, and a pair of polka-dot stockings.

“That one!” she declared, looking up at him with a proud grin.

Wrinkles formed on his forehead as Simon gave a look of disapproval. "That?" He questions, tone laced with doubt. “You sure about that? I don't think that's gonna look very good.”

Gianna’s smile faltered, and Simon immediately felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Bloody hell. Clearing his throat, he quickly backtracked. “I mean, it’s a bit… unique, isn’t it?” he said, trying to sound more encouraging—as if he hadn't just said it would look ugly. “But if that’s what you wanna wear, then tha’s what we’ll do.”

“Yay!” she squeals, bouncing, clapping her hands as her lips stretch into a toothy grin.

Reaching into the dresser, he pulls out the bright pink tutu, the neon green t-shirt, and the polka-dot stockings and lays them on her bed.

“You can do it by yourself, right?”

Gianna nods eagerly. “Yep!” she chirps, already reaching for the shirt.

“Alright, then. Daddy’ll be waitin’ downstairs, a’ight?”

“Okay!”

With one last glance, he turns and heads out of her room, making his way downstairs to ensure he has all the important things. Wipes, tissues, a few snacks, and a spare set of clothes just in case. He shoved it all into the bag that you usually bring whenever you're out with Gianna.

Zipping the bag, he then reached into his jeans pocket to feel for his wallet. He takes it out, flicks it open, and verifies that the special pass is safely tucked inside. His gaze drifts to the brown coat you had specified, draped over the arms of the couch—another item checked off his mental list.

Glancing up at the grandfather clock, he lets out a soft curse under his breath. Shouldering the bag and grabbing the coat, he walks into the living room and calls out Gianna’s name.

The car ride is a bit of a quiet affair, save for the sound of raindrops pattering against the windscreen. Simon glances at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Gianna in her car seat. She’s kicking her legs back and forth, a slightly bored expression on her face as she stares out the window—at least she’s not uncomfortable. He turns his attention back to the road.

The red light turned green; the car engine hummed as Simon accelerated. Suddenly, a small voice came from the backseat.

“Daddy, I want my song,” Gianna said.

Not understanding what she meant, Simon furrows his brows, shooting a puzzled glance at her reflection in the mirror. “Your song?” he asks, confused. “What song’s that, then?"

A dramatic sigh escapes her. The girl rolls her eyes in a way that is almost comically exaggerated for a five-year-old. “My song!” she exclaims, as if it were common knowledge. “The wheels on the bus, Daddy! The wheels on the bus go round and round!”

“Right, right,” he said, one finger reaching out to fiddle with nearly every button on the radio. “The wheels on the bus. Should’ve known that, shouldn’t I?”

Soon enough, the radio sprung to life, starting the tune of her favorite song. Gianna’s face lit up, and she began happily singing along. The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round… Bloody hell, this is worse than the songs you'd had on repeat for a week. But he held his tongue from protesting, observing his little princess doing her small dance instead.

The torture was cut short when the car came to a stop at their destination. The grand neoclassical building of the Metropolitan Opera loomed before them, its mighty and majestic pillars illuminated by the lights. He closed the door, rounding the vehicle to get to Gianna’s side.

Reaching in, he unbuckled the car seat, the girl waiting patiently as he did so.

“Are we gonna see Mum?” she asked, brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Soon, princess.”

Gently, Simon pulled her out of the car seat, setting her down on the ground. Locking the car, he took her tiny hand in his before the two of them made their way to the entrance, where a steady stream of well-dressed onlookers was beginning to file into the building.

Panic began to kick in when Gianna’s tiny hand slipped from his. Before he could protest, however, she pointed in a direction. “Look! That’s Mum!”

Following where her little finger pointed, his brown eyes landed on the large billboard on the side of the opera house. There, illuminated by the warm glow of a spotlight, was you, posed elegantly in your ballet attire, with the bold letters of “The Nutcracker” plastered above you. He couldn’t help the proud smile from tugging at the corners of his lips.

The sound of Gianna's hurried footsteps pulled him back to the present, her small form already darting towards the huge display. Quickly, he pulled out his updated mobile (the only reason he bought it was so he could take pictures of you and Gianna) and snapped a quick picture of his daughter standing next to the billboard.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he then strides over to Gianna. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late for Mum, do we?” he says, reaching down to scoop her into his arms. Simon tucks Gianna’s head under his chin.

Fishing out the special pass out of his wallet, he hands it to the person in charge of ticketing. They wave him through, and he steps into the foyer. Footsteps and chatter echo around him as he climbs the steps and through the towering doors of the grand opera hall.

After finding their seats, Simon leaned back comfortably in the velvet chair. But Gianna? The girl sat on the edge of her seat, her blonde head turning from side to side as she took in the sights of people filling their designated spots. She darted her eyes from one end of the room to the other, like she was searching for something—or rather, someone.

“Where’s Mum?” She asked, turning to him with a slight frown.

Simon was still leaning back in his chair. “She’ll be out soon, love,” he assured her.

“When?” she pressed, growing impatient.

Reaching over, he gently pinched her chubby cheek, eliciting a small giggle from Gianna. “Soon, princess,” he repeated, this time really hoping it will soothe her little heart. “Just sit back and relax, alright?”

“Okay, but are we gonna watch Mummy?”

“’Course, that’s why we’re here, right?”

Finally convinced, Gianna leans back, her tiny body relaxing as the lights begin to dim. The orchestra conductor ascends the podium, lifting his baton high. Gradually, the music comes to life. Simon glances over at Gianna to find her swaying her head to the melodies.

“Look, Daddy! Snow!” she exclaims, pointing at the delicate flakes of ‘snow’ falling as the opening scene of the Nutcracker unfolds.

It was easy enough to make Gianna enamored. She was mesmerized by the ‘snow’ coming down from above, letting out a soft gasp of awe when she saw the towering Christmas tree on stage. When the audience applauded, she joined in excitedly, trying to clap even louder.

But nothing, nothing compares to the moment she spots her mum.

The second you glide onto the stage, Gianna lets out a loud gasp, launching off the chair. She glues her gaze to your every step, jaw hanging open as her eyes radiate pure adoration. With her tiny index finger pointed, she jumps up and down.

“That’s Mummy, Daddy! That’s Mummy!”

His heart had never been this full. He chuckled, reaching out to gently tug her back down into her seat. “Aye, that's her, love.” He said, following where she pointed, to his wife.

“Tha’s Mummy, Daddy! Woah, woah! She’s so pretty!”

And she’s right—you’re absolutely enchanting, every movement imbued with elegance and poise. The fluid extension of your legs, the exquisite way the spotlight caresses your form. He watches you dance with your co-star in perfect synchronization, flawlessly executing those ballerina moves he can never recall the names of but loves all the same.

“She’s the best, Daddy! Look at ‘er go! Woaahh!”

“Aye, bloody brilliant, she is.”

Gianna nods in agreement. “Yeah, bloody brilliant!”

Simon snorts when she steals his lines, echoing like a loyal follower. As you continue your performance, Gianna’s oohs and awws fill the air around them. She makes little cheers, more praises, more clapping. “Didja see that jump?!” here, “She’s sooo pretty!” there.

Miraculously, Gianna still had a tank of energy even after the show was over. The second the girl saw you, she ran over and threw her arms around you. You quickly leaned down, sweeping Gianna into your arms. She giggled as you peppered her cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses.

“Here’s my pretty girl!” you said, giving her chubby cheeks another peck.

Swelling with pride, Simon smiled at the sight of his two favorite people together. Walking over to his girls, he held out the bouquet of flowers he had just taken from the trunk of his car, offering them to you.

“Well done, love.”

You accept the flowers as Simon takes Gianna from you. “Oh, babe, they’re beautiful.” You breathe, lips curving into a radiant smile.

Without a second thought, you rise onto your tiptoes, bridging the height difference between you, before pressing your lips to his in a slow, prolonged kiss. Gianna makes a disgusted sound—Simon can feel the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. You can feel the warmth of his body as he pulls you close; the familiar scent of his cologne and something of him intoxicating you.

But the moment is interrupted when Gianna tugs on Simon's cheek.

“That’s gross, Daddy! Get off Mum!”

Simon pressed one last, gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away completely. “She’s my wife too, kid.” He reminded his daughter.

You giggle at Gianna's reaction. Reaching up, you cup Simon's stubbled jaw, your thumb gently caressing the short, prickly hair over his chin. Then, turning back to your pouting daughter, you lean closer to place a soft, affectionate kiss upon her cheek.

“I need to go change, and then we can all go home, okay?”

Soon enough, the three of you were in the car, with the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of “The Wheels on the Bus” playing on the radio. In the back seat, Gianna was still full of energy, even more enthusiastic after the ballet show.

As Simon makes another turn, Gianna suddenly pipes up. “I want to be like Mummy when I grow up!” she declared.

You twist your body in the passenger seat to face her. “Really? You wanna be a ballerina like me?”

Watching Gianna in the rearview mirror, Simon joined in the conversation with his question. “Yeah? What happened to wanting to be a soldier?”

It's not like he would actually allow her if it ended up being more than a silly childhood dream. The mere idea of Gianna putting herself in danger, surrounded by self-entitled men in their star-encrusted uniforms, facing the same horrors he had seen, filled his stomach with unease. If any of her aspirations were to see fruition, he would much rather she shine in the spotlight, where she could display her poise and elegance, just like you.

But Gianna took her time in answering, as if she was considering it carefully. “‘Course I want that too! I'll just be a ballerina an’ a soldier!”

Both you and Simon laughed at that. Always gotta have it all, your little girl.

[melishade]

👶

This ask game

Megatron ends up becoming a de facto uncle/god father post AOP.

Because he's staying and watching over everything, and at least Hanji isn't going to be leaving him alone, so he is actively involved in the lives of the Survey Corps, like the Hundred Days OVA.

So, like in the Peaceful Timeline, he does end up getting attached to Jean and Mikasa's kid, who they named Carla. Megatron does get involved in the labor process:

Megatron: Alright I'm here, what's going on?

Jean: Oh thank god, tag in!

Megatron holds Mikasa's hand in confusion: Tag in for-!

Mikasa screaming as another contraction hits.

Megatron struggling to get his hand out: Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!

And Megatron gets super nervous when Mikasa offers the kid to him.

“Do you want to hold her?” Mikasa asked.

Megatron was stiff at the thought. “I…should not be holding that.”

“It’s a baby,” Mikasa explained.

“Don’t care,” Megatron hissed, “I won’t touch it.”

“I never thought you’d be scared of a baby,” Mikasa goaded.

“Shut up,” Megatron ordered, “Look, considering my track record, I shouldn’t be holding something as frail as that.”

“Well…I still am a little tired,” Mikasa said, somewhat truth and lie, “I could use the extra help, and Jean is already tired. He helped me out with the labor and the pregnancy. I don’t want to wake him up.”

Megatron glanced over at Jean’s sleeping form. He could tell the boy was in deep slumber. His body was splayed all over the couch, and his mouth was wide open.

Megatron sighed as he held out his arms. “I will only do this once.”

Mikasa gave a small smile, gently passing the baby into Megatron’s hands. She then guided his arms into the position to hold the baby. One arm supported her head while the other kept the baby balanced.

“See,” Mikasa said, “Harmless.”

Megatron looked down at the baby in his arms. He couldn’t tell if it was breathing. It was so frail…and small. Her head could probably fit in only one hand. Her fists were so tiny. There was…no protective layer for this creature. One wrong move and…

Megatron could feel his legs shaking. Why in the Allspark were they shaking?! He needed to make it stop!

“Mikasa…I cannot be holding this…sparkling,” he forced out, “Please, just take her from my servos.”

Mikasa could see the panic in his eyes, and moved to take the baby from him. When she did; however, the baby began to whine and fuss.

“Why is it doing that?” Megatron demanded.

Mikasa quietly shushed her daughter and bounced her in her arms. That seemed to calm her down before Mikasa turned to Megatron.

“Carla only existed for a day,” Mikasa reminded, “She doesn’t know what’s going on. She has no idea what food or water is; she’s unfamiliar with colors. She doesn’t know how to speak or think for herself. The only thing she can really do is cry, and hope that someone comes for her.”

Mikasa kissed her on her forehead. “I will always come for you.”

Megatron merely stared at Mikasa. “I never thought I’d see humans weaker than what I’ve already seen.”

“I know you’re scared,” Mikasa proclaimed, not phased by the insult, “This is the first time you’ve ever seen something like this, but I trust you, and I trust that you won’t hurt her.”

“…I don’t trust myself,” Megatron admitted.

“Maybe when you do, you can try holding her again,” Mikasa offered.

“…It’s better for the both of us that I don’t do that,” Megatron declared.

But Megatron ultimately comes around. But there's also the fact that if Carla were to ever get kidnapped, the kidnappers wouldn't make it out alive. Not to mention, Megatron trains Carla to have nerves of steel.

Kidnapper 1: Hello little girl

Carla (Jean and Mikasa's kid): Hello.

Kidnapper 1: What's your name?

Carla: What good would that information do for a dead man?

Kidnapper 2: Excuse me?

Carla: Trash belongs in the garbage can, it doesn't need to know my name..

Kidnapper 3: Damn this kid goes hard

And then Megatron shows up:

Kidnapper 1: Oh my god, this is the Flying Titan's kid.

Kidnapper 2: He procreated?! What a twist.

Kidnapper 3: But that's good right?!

Kidnapper 1: That's suicidal you idiots! Put her back where you found her or so help me-!

Megatron kicks the door open: Carla, go wait outside in the car. Carla in a huff: No!

Megatron: Jean is waiting with your teddy bear.

Carla: See this is how you get a girl to get into car! Take notes dillweeds!

Kidnappers are now alone with Megatron.

Kidnapper 1: Megatron, we-!

Megatron: Quiet. Pulls pin on a grenade and throws it.

Kidnapper 2: Grenade-!

Megatron: Stay Slams the door shut behind him.

Kidnapper 1:...I hate you all so much-! Grenade goes off.

I've also discussed this with @justawannabearchaeologist and @echoblaze5. Anyway, happy new year!

[midnight--sadness]

I was going to write even more sad thoughts and angst but I felt way too uneasy and saw no point in seeing Gihun so broken 😪 I am not strong enough. I'm sparing my energy for Season 3. Here's some crack and fluff instead. This is so unserious and just something to make myself feel happy and better 😭

Daeho is like... 26 year old or something, right? Taking a shot in the dark, but anywho! What if he was born in another family. He already kind of looks like both Gihun and Inho 🧐 But mostly Gihun though, because of the infectious smile and cute energy. But on the day he was born, he looked a lot like Inho. "I endured 9 difficult months carrying you... and you end up looking exactly like your rascal (affectionately) of a father! 🥲" Gihun laments, feigning annoyance. Doing math here so if Gihun's age is around 52, minus that with 26 and it means he had Daeho when he was just 26 years old himself! Also Idk if their names might have different meaning, but I reallyyyy love the similarity between the names of Daeho and Inho. Tiger Dad and Tiger Jr. 🐅🐯 Raaargh

Uncle Jungbae is the third most important person in his life, of course. He blinks and the kid goes from a tiny small sweetpea to a tall bulky mountain for no reason. They grow up way too fast... 🎶 Slipping through my fingers all the time, I try to capture every minute the feeling in it 🎶

the day daeho got taller than both jungbae and inho, was the day they went to jungbae's pub and drank until they couldn't stand. then, once trashed, they got on the karaoke and sang "slipping through my fingers" while a slideshow of daeho's baby pics was on the screen behidn them (this was also in jungbae's pub so they could have a custom-made slideshow okay?)

someone in the audience make a video and sent it to gihun (maybe hyunju idk) and he laughed so much he fell out of his chair. daeho was just embarassed bc what do u mean, his dad and his uncle serenated his baby photos in a public bar???

what daeho doesn't know, is that this is tradition for inho - he did the same when junho officially got taller than him 😩

and yes!! i love the similarity in their names too 💖 it's so cute, u just know inho gave daeho a tiger plushie as his first toy

(also, this isn't related to the ask but apparently daeho is 37! his actor, kang ha-neul made a character profile during a promo for netflix and he wrote down that daeho is the same age as him, hence 37. if it happened in this au, then inhun would be teen parents 🤧)

EDIT: so kang ha-neul is turning 35 this year lmao, he's def not 37 im sorry 😭 i don't why i thought he was saying his age is also 37, my bad!!

[vanfleeter]

Waylon

Characters: Dad!Jake x Tommy

Warnings: Paranormal. Ghosts. Fluff. Father-son bonding.

A/N: I think this might be my favorite Dad!Jake fic I have written 🥰

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Mid September. Halloween decorations went up on the first day of the month, Tommy eager to begin celebrating the holiday. Spiders covered the windows, cobwebs decorated bushes in the front yard. Skeletons were staked in the yard as well as the giant clown from the Halloween store. Tommy somehow managed to convince Jake to buy the giant, creepy clown. Jake still finds himself tiptoeing around the clown, trying not to activate it.

But soon the clown isn’t what creeps him out now.

“Daddy!” Tommy calls as he runs down the stairs.

“Yeah bud?” Jake calls back. He dumps a few scraps of trash into the trash can and turns around just as Tommy hops up onto one of the bar stools.

“I have a question.”

“Uh oh,” Jake chuckles as he walks over to the kitchen island.

Tommy is seven and currently is loving to ask question after question about anything and everything that pops into the tiny child’s head. Jake has been asked questions ranging from how long can a human breathe under water, which resulted in Jake dragging Tommy out of the pool after he and Josh thought he was drowning. Turns out that he was not. In fact he was trying to see how long he could hold his breath. Then it was his curiosity about animals and how they came to be. He wasn’t entirely sure how Tommy was phrasing it so he never fully answered that, further confusing the kid.

At this point Jake has lost count of how many questions that this kid has asked. You always hear that parents know everything. Not in Jake’s case.

“What’s your question?”

Jake starts to sit down on the stool beside him when Tommy exclaims, “No! Waylon is sitting there!”

“Oh, okay..” Jake says as he steps away from the stool.

Tommy and his imaginary friends keep Jake on his toes. Though he can’t say much because he used to have an imaginary friend when he was Tommy’s age. Even though he had Josh, he used his “imaginary friend” as an excuse to not have to do everything with Josh. Sounds horrible, but it’s true.

“So Waylon,” Jake says. “Waylon is what you chose to call this imaginary friend?”

“He’s not imaginary,” Tommy sighs. “I’ve told you this. He lives in my closet and tells me stories. I told you that he used to live here a long time ago, remember?”

“Right, right. He has friends too, hmm?”

Tommy nods his head. “Cowboys.”

“Ahh, okay. So what is your question?”

“Well.. Waylon told me that the stars explode and die, is that true?”

“Explode and die?” Jake questions.

Tommy nods his head. “Are stars dying?”

“I wouldn’t “dying” per se,” He says. “But they do explode and that’s how you see stars in the sky. You’re seeing the after effects of the explosion by the time the light travels to the earth.”

“Waylon wants to know how light travels to the earth? He never learned about all of the science stuff back in his time. He says he was dead before the light bulb was invented. Is it like a light bulb?”

Questions are being asked that Jake just doesn’t have the answers for.

“I think that might be a question to ask Uncle Sammy.” Jake says. “He’s more into that kind of stuff.”

“But Waylon wasn’t lying though, stars do explode.”

“Very much so, yes.”

He had to have read it in some science magazine that you had subscribed to forever ago when Tommy’s interest in the solar system peaked at one point.

A couple weeks have gone by and Tommy hasn’t mentioned much of Waylon since that day he asked about the stars. Jake fully believed that it was just his imaginary friend and one day, hopefully soon, he would grow out of that phase.

“Babe, can you take Tommy’s clothes upstairs and put them away for me?” You say as you walk over to Jake and hand him the small basket of clothes.

“Sure thing,” He says as he takes it and makes his way upstairs.

While putting away the folded clothes in Tommy’s dresser, Jake hears a little knock on the closet door. A smirk forms on his face. Tommy’s hiding again. So instead of acknowledging it, he continues putting away the clothes in the dressers. Picking up the empty basket, he starts to leave the room when he hears the fainted “hello” coming from the closet.

Jake stops in the threshold and glances over his shoulder. The curtain moved against the wall, followed by a little child’s laughter causing goosebumps to rise on Jake’s arms.

“Daddy?” Jake turns his head and looks in front of him to see Tommy looking up at him with a confused look.

So that was not Tommy. That was.. No.. It can’t be.

“Daddy, are you okay?”

“Uh,” Jake clears his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Uh, go find your sister so we can go grocery shopping for your mom.”

It wasn’t until that night that Jake was woken up to the sound of little feet walking around the room. At first he thought that it was Tommy or Lily having woken up. “Papa..” He hears a small voice. Humming in response, he turns over to flick on the light when he sees a little figure standing in the corner of the room by the window.

“Tommy?” Jake slowly sits up in bed and swings his legs over. “What are you doing over there bud? Come over here,” He says, waving his arms motioning for the child-like figure to come towards him. The figure comes over to Jake. “Did you have a bad dream again?”

“I miss my papa.” The figure says.

“I don’t understand, I’m right here.”

Is Tommy sleepwalking?

“You are not my papa.”

“Of course I am.”

A small hand comes up to touch his cheek and the face of a little blonde boy with blue eyes flashes in his mind. He was dressed in brown overalls over top a button down white shirt with a straw hat atop his head. The image disappears and he’s staring at an empty space in front of him.

“Jake?” He hears you call out beside him. “Honey, who are you talking to?”

“I.. I don’t know,” He stammers, running a hand through his hair. “I thought.. I thought Tommy woke up.. I thought I was talking to him..”

“Lay back down,” You say. “Get some more sleep.”

He cannot have seen Waylon. He just couldn't have seen him. He’s imaginary. Jake just does not believe that his house is haunted by a little boy from the 1800s. No, it can’t be real.

He in fact did not get any more sleep the rest of the night, unable to get his mind off the fact that he, himself, conversed with a ghost. He’s never done that before. But of course, there is a first for everything.

“Mama, can you make extra pancakes?” Tommy asks.

“Of course, feeling hungry this morning?”

“No, Waylon just wants some. He says they smell really good.”

You see Jake visibly tense while he flips a pancake over on the sizzling pan. “Are you okay?” You ask him.

“Hmm?” He hums in acknowledgment as he turns to look at you. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you sleep at all the rest of the night?” You ask. He merely nods his head, giving you a small smile before turning back to the pan to remove the pancakes and put them on a plate.

The last time Jake has ever had been in “contact” with a “ghost” was when the band spent days out at the cabin and writing music. Then he felt disconnected to the ghost. Had no reason to be afraid. But now he feels connected to this one. He’s not afraid, no, but something more of an emotion. He feels sadness and fear, not as if he’s fearing like he’s in danger, but fear of being alone.

Waylon is alone.

Waylon has no one.

He came to Jake last night, scared and sad. He trusted Jake.

So that night after putting the kids to bed, he bids you a goodnight before slipping out of the room. He retrieves his guitar from his study and quietly goes downstairs to the living room where he relaxes on the couch and strums a soft and comforting melody. He hears the floor creak, as it once did back at the cabin.

Music always draws a soul to it, living or dead.

“Waylon?” He softly asks into the void.

Another creak of the floorboards, this time coming from the staircase.

“I won’t hurt you,” Jake says as he stops strumming. “You came to me before, you can come to me again.” It was quiet again, no more floorboard creaking, so he continues playing again in hopes that Waylon will come to him.

Never in millions did he think he’d be communicating with the dead, but something about Waylon is calling out to him. Maybe it is the paternal instincts he’s developed over the years that makes him feel connected to the little boy, having one himself who is hopefully still sound asleep in his bed.

He doesn’t hear the floorboards creak anymore. Though he feels a presence lingering nearby.

“Do you like music?” Jake asks.

Suddenly the presence vanishes and Jake hears a little voice call to him. “Daddy?” He looks up towards the stairs to see Tommy rubbing his eyes. “Who are you talking to?”

“It seems Waylon needed a friend.” Jake chuckles.

Tommy walks down the stairs and joins Jake on the couch. Jake agains feels the presence once more and Tommy giggles. “He says his papa used to play the guitar too, though he wasn’t as good as you are.”

Jake smiles and plucks a few strings. “Where is he now?”

“Standing right beside your left hand.” Tommy says. “He’s looking at your ring, and says that his papa saved up as much money as he could so he could give his mama a wedding band. He’s seen Mama’s ring, and says they never could have afforded a diamond.”

He feels the same small hand from the other night rest upon his arm.

“He’s asking you to keep playing.”

Jake nods his head and continues plucking at the strings on his guitar.

“Waylon says that when you play, it brings him comfort. He loves to watch you play.”

“Does he now?” Jake chuckles.

Tommy giggles and rests his head on Jake’s shoulder. “Waylon says that song would have been perfect to play to the chickens that they once had on their farm.”

Jake snorts, “Oh really?”

Tommy smiles and nods his head. “Says they had ten of them.” Jake nods his head and continues playing.

A few more minutes pass and Jake hears Tommy yawn. Some more pass and he’s falling asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch. Jake takes that as a sign to stop for the night. “Alright Waylon, I believe it is official bedtime this time.” He says as he sets his guitar off to the side.

He feels a light brush across his cheek and Waylon flashes in his mind. He looked happier.

Standing up and stretching out his body just a little, he turns back to the couch and scoops up Tommy into his arms and carries him back upstairs. “Waylon says he won't stay much longer,” Tommy says when Jake lays back on the bed. “He says it’s time for him to leave.”

“Where is he going?”

“He’s not sure but he sees his papa.”

“He does?”

Tommy nods his head. “He says goodbye and thank you.”

“Well, goodbye to you too, Waylon.” Jake says as sits down on Tommy’s bed.

He sees the curtains rustle ever so slightly. “He’s gone..” Tommy says, with a twinge of sadness in his voice.

Jake looks back at him before pulling him into his arms. “Tommy..”

“I wanted him to stay.. He was fun to have around.”

“I know,” Jake says. “But sometimes it’s just their time bud. They can’t stay around for long.”

“Why do they stay?” Tommy asks.

“I’m not so sure,” Jake says as he moves Tommy back to the bed and tucks him back. “Some say they stay because they have unfinished business, while others say they’re stuck and can’t find their way.”

“Was Waylon stuck? Or did he have unfinished business?”

“I don’t know,” Jake says. “But whatever it was that was keeping him here, I guess we helped him.” He reaches over and wipes his thumb across Tommy’s cheek and gives him a smile. “But now he’s with his papa and that’s all that matters.”

“Daddy, if we ever die and I get lost, will you ever come find me?”

“I will always find you,” Jake reaches over and plants a kiss on Tommy’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

After leaving Tommy’s room, he goes back to his own and carefully slides into bed so as to not wake you. Much to his surprise though, you never did fall asleep. You turn over onto your side to face him and kiss his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For being the best father to our children,” You say. “I don’t think he’ll ever forget this.”

"Neither will I," Jake says as he pulls you in into him. "Goodnight baby.."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

link to the tag list in my master list!

@losfacedevil @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @edgingthedarkness @takenbythemadness @katiegvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @piratejtk @thetroublegetssoloud71 @hollyco @earthgrlsreasy @dancingcarbon @cheersdannyx2