#and i get to be Uncle Ant

[transgender-catboy]

holy shit. I'm an uncle

[iliker3dpandas]

I've been populating a sims 3 town with characters from my favorite media

The highlights so far include that Adam Frankenstein (Frankenstein's monster) has one friend beside his wife Eve and it's Fester Adams, The Hawke's Mabari Dutchess had two puppies Scout and Roux, and Jason Voorhees decided to become a doctor. I would like to note I'm not done adding characters and that all this was on their own 'free' will.

[koravelliumavast]

Who would win in an annoying story that never actually gets to the point contest?

[authoramalgam]

Oh the temptation to make an au of my MNAF au where Dan fucking dies in MNAF 4

He'd be so so angry

It'd be great

[allpromarlo]

the nets are such sluts

[and-claudia]

Yours (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

This is part one of a currently untitled mini series for Paddy from speak no evil (2024)

Warnings: Paddy (he is a warning himself), manipulation, age gap, drinking, infidelity, smut (with plot), unprotected sex, p in v, controlling relatives, fingering, multiple orgasms (i think that is it but if I missed one let me know)

This story will get dark. this is your warning, this part isn't really that dark and can be read as a stand-alone fic

summary: You are with your Aunt, Uncle and cousin on a small vacation in Italy where you befriend a couple and you take particular interest in Paddy

Word Count: 3700+

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

When I met him in Italy, I was immediately drawn to him. He was like no man I had ever met before—exciting, inviting, and intoxicating. He was significantly older than me, but maybe that is what I needed. All the guys my age were the same, and none of them had the charm that Paddy did. But he was married, and I had tried my best to respect that. 

However, that all changed when he invited me out a few nights after meeting. We were at dinner, and I was sitting beside my aunt, one seat down and across from Paddy. Drinks had just been served when Paddy eyed my drink. 

“Water? Really? On vacation?” He asked, noticing my lack of alcoholic beverage. 

“Oh, she doesn’t drink.” Louise said for me, causing me to roll my eyes. 

“What, why not? Personal health? Religion?” Paddy asked, tilting his head, his blue eyes soft. 

I side eyed my aunt before sighing and looking back to Paddy, “They’ve never let me.” 

Paddy pulled back with a shocked face, “Oh, come on! You’re on vacation! You’re an adult! Indulge a little. I’ll tell you what, order whatever you want, it’s on me.” He said. 

I smiled at him, “I appreciate it, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” I said honestly. 

He laughed, looking down and shaking his head before looking back at me. “Let me help.” 

He then proceeded to ask me a list of questions about my preferences, like if I liked sweet or bitter things, do I like fruity things, what flavors I preferred etc. Once he was, he nodded. 

“Okay, I think I got it. Do you trust me?” He asked, and I nodded. 

Then he flagged down the waiter and secretly ordered my drink for me. I could feel my aunt looking at me in slight disbelief. But I didn’t care. She and my uncle drank wine all the time. I was old enough to drink, so why not? 

Eventually, the waiter brought my drink to me and I hesitantly took a drink as Paddy watched with anticipation. 

“So?” 

“That’s really good.” I said honestly. 

Paddy clapped his hands in a small personal celebration, “Perfect!” 

Dinner continued on with conversation among all of us. I finished my drink and began drinking my water again. I was listening to my Uncle drone on about something when I saw Paddy flag down our waiter again and point to me before sending me a small wink. I was brought another drink, which I happily accepted. By the time dinner concluded, I had downed 3, and I was feeling it, especially once I stood up. 

“How we feeling?” Paddy asked. 

“Great.” I said, giggling. 

“Ah, yes, a giggly drunk, much better than a grumpy one.” Paddy said to my aunt, who just gave a thin-lipped smile and nodded. 

“We should probably get going. It’s late.” She said waving me over to her. 

Even with my mind fuzzy, I knew there was no point in putting up a fight. 

“Actually,” Paddy’s voice made me pause, “Ciara and I were going to go to a club down the road after we put Ant to bed. We wanted to see if you, all three of you, wanted to join us. Just for a couple of hours, nothing crazy.” 

“Not tonight, we’re all pretty tired.” My uncle said. 

My aunt nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s late anyway. But thank you for the invite.” 

Paddy’s eyes fell on me, and he raised an eyebrow in question. The liquor flowing through me gave me the courage to look at my aunt and uncle before turning back to Paddy and Ciara. 

“I would love to.” I said, making Paddy smile. 

“Oh, Yn, come on, you don’t want to impose.” My aunt said, touching my shoulder, but I brushed her off. 

“She isn’t, I promise. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Ciara said, “Go on up and get changed. We’ll swing by and get you after Ant is in bed.” 

Reluctantly, I followed my aunt and uncle up to our room. When we got there, I went straight to my suitcase and dug out a specific dress. I pooped the tags off of it before going into the bathroom to change into it. It was definitely unlike anything I had ever worn before. I showed off all my best assets, and I looked hot. I touched up my makeup before walking out to change my shoes. 

“What on earth are you wearing?” My uncle asked from where he sat in his bed. 

“A dress.” I said bluntly, grabbing my shoes. 

“You’re not wearing that out. You look like a hooker.” He said but Louise put a hand on his arm. 

“Look, you can’t even insult your niece without her telling you what to do.” I said as I put on my shoes. 

“Yn, maybe you should stay in tonight. Meet some of the people your age here. I’m sure they’d go to the club with you.” Louise offered. 

“Why wait?” I said, but before they could say anything, there was a knock on the door. 

I opened it, and Paddy was standing there dressed nicer than he was at dinner. It was taking everything in me not to stare. 

“Ready?” He asked. 

“Yup!” I smiled. 

“Don’t worry, Ben, she’ll be returned in one piece!” He called into the room after I stepped out. He pulled the door shut, and we began walking down the hall. 

“So… change of plans… Ciara isn’t coming…” He said, watching to gauge my reaction. 

“Oh…” 

“Is that okay with you? I mean, if you’re at all uncomfortable, we don’t have to go.” 

“No, I still want to go. I think I’m losing my buzz, though.” I said with a small laugh. 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He said, offering me his arm. I took it, trying not to blush, “Let’s go.” 

Walking into the club, attached to his arm, just felt so right. It felt powerful. Paddy had an intimating aura about him that when people saw him they stepped out of his way. He walked us straight to the bar and ordered us some drinks. 

Before I knew it he and I were on the dance floor, his hands on my hips as we danced together. Our bodies were pressed against one another. The booze in my system was clouding my judgment. I knew this was wrong. I was grinding on a married man over twice my age. 

They called for the last call at the bar, and I drug Paddy back to it for us to get one more drink in. We both had a thin sheen of sweat covering our bodies as we waited for our drinks. There weren’t many seats so I was sitting while he stood right behind me, chest pressed against my back. 

“You look stunning, by the way.” He said over the music. 

“Thank you. You’re not too bad lookin’ yourself.” I shot back just as our drinks were set down. 

We drank them quickly before stumbling out and making our way back to the hotel. I was a complete stumbling, giggling mess, holding onto him for support so I wouldn’t fall. 

“Wait. I have a horrible idea.” I said. 

Paddy looked over at me, waiting for me to answer. 

“We should go jump in the pool,” I said, giggling. 

“I bet you won’t.” He said, challenging me. 

I wasted no time grabbing his hand and leading him over to the now-closed pool. I quickly took my heels off before walking over to the edge. With one last look over my shoulder at him, I jumped. When I resurfaced, he was laughing his ass off, clapping. 

“Well, come on! Your turn!” I said. 

He quickly slipped his own shoes off and took his watch off, setting them on one of the chairs before jumping in with me. He swam under the water and popped up right in front of me. His hands went to my hips once again as he pulled me flush against him. 

I was looking up at him, eyes fliting from his eyes to his lips and before I could process it he was leaning in. But I stopped him.

“Wait… what about Ciara?” I asked quietly. 

“It’s okay. That’s why she didn’t come tonight. She wanted me to have this tonight, to have you tonight.” 

That was all the convincing it took me to reach up and pull him down to meet my lips. He backed us up until my back hit the wall of the pool. His hands roamed my body, and one of mine was tangled in his hair. Things were heating up until we heard someone clear their throat. 

He slowly pulled away from me, and then we both turned to see one of the hotel workers standing there with their hands clasped in front of them. 

“I am sorry, but the pool is closed.” They said in a thick Italian accent. 

“Oh yes, sir. My apologies, you see, she fell in, and I had to save her… I was just making sure her airways were cleared.” Paddy said. 

The worker was clearly not amused by the jokes. 

 “We’ll get out right now.” Paddy said grabbing my hand as he led us to the stairs. 

We got out and collected our belongings, still laughing to ourselves until we were out of sight of the worker. Then, all hell broke loose as we began laughing fully. 

“He was so not impressed with your bullshit, Paddy.” I said, holding onto his arm with one hand while I carried my shoes in the other. 

“He’s just got a stick so far up his ass he doesn’t know what humor is anymore.” He replied. 

I grabbed him by the open collar of his shirt and pulled him to me and attached my lips to his once again. He aggressively pushed me against the wall, deepening the kiss. Slowly, his lips left mine and began making their way down the side of my neck. I tilted my head to the other side to give him better access to it. He was alternating between soft kisses and small bites. Then he bit down harder than he had been right on that sweet spot on my neck, and a small moan left my lip. He stayed there working on what would be a dark hickey come morning, but I couldn’t care. I would wear it with pride. 

Once he was done, he pulled away to admire his work. Then his lips were on mine again. My mind was wandering off to all the things I wanted him to do to me. His hand found my wrist and grabbed it. Then, he brought my hand down between us and placed it firmly against the growing bulge in his pants. 

“You see what you’re doing to me, baby? I want you so bad.” He said, pulling away and resting his forehead against mine. 

A small whimper left my mouth as he grinded against my hand. 

“Take me. Please, I’m yours, Paddy.” I said, kissing him again. 

He pulled away once again but then began leading me by the hand still on my wrist down the halls to his room. I hesitated as he went to open the door. 

“She’s not here. She’s across the hall with Ant in his room. Remember, she wanted me to have this.” He said, eyes dark with lust and his voice dropping low. 

I nodded at him to continue and he opened the door, leading me inside. He once we were inside he shut and lock the door behind him. I suddenly felt shy and was subconsciously pulling the bottom hem of my dress down in a futile attempt to cover myself up in front of him.

“Oh, baby, don’t hide.” Paddy said, walking over, grabbing gently by the hips and kissing me surprisingly softly compared to earlier. 

“I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never…” I sighed in embarrassment. 

“Oh, you’re a virgin?” He asked, eyebrows knitting together softly. 

I shook my head, “No… not technically…” I said.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything, we just go to bed.” He offered but I shook my head again. 

“I want to, trust I want you. I’ve just never orgasmed before with someone else…only myself.” I finally admitted, clearly nervous. 

“Do you doubt my ability to make you feel good, darling?” He asked, voice dropping low again. 

“No, I just worry somethings wrong with me.” I said truthfully. 

Paddy shook his head this time and began walking backwards, pulling me with by the hands still on my hips. He sat down on the edge of the bed and then guided me to straddle him. 

“We’re not leaving this room until I give you the most earth shattering orgasm I have ever given a woman. Understand?” 

I took in a sharp breath at the sudden commanding tone he took on, but nodded my head. 

“Use your words. I won’t remind you again.” “Yes, sir.” I said, voice already breathy from the way he was making me feel. 

“Good. Now, be a good girl and take this dress off for me. I want to see you, all of you.” He said. 

I stood from his lap and then reached behind me to unzip my dress. Once I had it unzipped I pulled it down off my body exposing my bare brests to him. He moaned at the sight of them but I kept going. Since it was a tighter dresser and was still wet from the pool, I had wiggle a bit to get it off my hips and over my ass, causing my tits to bounce with the movement which only spurred Paddy on. Once it was past my thighs, I was able to drop it and have it fall around my feet. Since I hadn’t worn any panties with the dress I was now standing completely bare in front of him as his eyes roamed over my body. 

“This whole time that’s all you had on? I could’ve been fucking you with my fingers this whole night…” He said, shaking his head. 

I bit my lip at his words. That would’ve been hot. 

“Oh, you like that idea… next time.” He said, making my stomach do a flip. Would there really be a next time? 

“Get over here, I need to see those tits up close.” He said. 

I stepped forward again and straddled his waist once more. His hands wasted no time going to my brests. He toyed with them roughly, rolling my hardening nipples between his rough, calloused hands.

“Fuck, these things looked great in that swimsuit you wore yesterday but nothing, nothing compares to them in the flesh.” He said, before dipping his head down and taking one of them in his mouth. 

His tongue swirled around my nipple before his teeth ever so subtlely grazed it. He didn’t actually bite down but it was enough to earn a moan from me. I was become desperate for some friction and I hadn’t even noticed that I was grinding down on his lap until he removed his mouth from my tit. 

“Ooh, someones eagar.” He said. 

Then, without warning, one his hands dipped between us and he ran his fingers through my folds, feel the wetness that had already began to pool. 

“Oh she’s very eager.” He said as one of his fingers just barley entered me before he removed his hand completely urning a whine from me. 

“Don’t whine, baby, Paddy is going to take good care of you.” He said, using his oter hand to pull me into a quick kiss. 

He then guided up off his lap to sit beside him before he stood up. 

“Fair is fair, darling.” He said as he began to remove his own clothes. 

He began with his shirt, which while he was extremely toned and very attractive physically, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t already seen laying out by the pool. Then he stepped forward towards me with his pelvis slightly forward. I couldn’t help myself from starring at the pitch that was clearly aching to be let out of the confines of his pants. 

“Go ahead, darling, you can do the honors.” He said. 

I slowly reached up and grabbed his belt before undoing it. My eyes met his as I looked up through my lashes and I undid his pants. Then my focus dropped back down as I grabbed the waist band of his boxers and his pants and pulled them gently, finally releasing his hard cock. I couldn’t help myself but stare at it and admire it for a moment. 

“Are you gonna stare at it all night, or do you want me to fuck you with it?” He asked, voice deep. 

I looked up at him once again through my lashes and went to nod my head but remembered his words from earlier. 

“I want you to fuck me with it.” I said making him smirk. 

“Then get up there.” He said, nodding the head board. 

I scooted up on the bed and he crawled over to me. His lips found mine and this time I allowed my hands to explore his body from his toned chest to his hair to his strong arms. Everything about him was intoxicating. It was like ever single on of my senses was completely consumed by him. 

He was using one hand to support his weight above me as his other travled down my body to my core. Once again, he ran his fingers through my folds then slipped one in. However this time he let it go in much further. Then he slipped another one in, working me open and stretching me out to prep me for his cock. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, can already feel how tight you are.” He said, against my lips. 

He kept pumping into with two fingers for awhile until he slipped a third one in which took my breath away. My moan was swallowed by his mouth as he fucked in and out of me with his thick fingers. 

When he finally pulled them out he pulled away from my lips and began cleaning his hand off with his mouth. “Taste like fuck heven, sweetheart.” He said, leanined back down to kiss me, allowing me to taste myself on his lips. 

He finally pulled away, leaving my lips swollen from the kiss.

“You on birth control?” He asked. 

I nodded, “Yeah.” “Good.” 

That was all the warning I got before he was sliding into me. The stretch was borderline painful in the best was possible. And the moan that I let out sounded like it was straight out of a porno. 

“Fuck, baby, you trying to wake up the whole damn hotel?” He teased. 

“I’m sorry.” I said, still out of breath. 

“No, let them hear you. Let them know you’re getting the best fucking you’ll ever have. Let them know you belong to me.” He said. 

My walls squeezed around him at his last words. 

“You like that? You want the world to know I fucked your brains out?” “Y-yes.” I managed to sigh. 

“Good.” 

And with that he began pounding into me at a brutal pace. He had grabbed one of my legs and hooked it over his hip, giving him the angle to hit so deep into me, I was sure my cervix would be bruised the next morning. 

He continued his pace, never letting up for a second, “You’re so fucking tight. Feels so good. No wonder no other man could make you come, they probably came within a minute of being in your perfect pussy.” 

He adjusted his angle ever so slightly and was hammering into that soft spongy spot that had me seeing stars. He must of seen my reaction to this new angle because he began getting cocky. 

“There it, that’s the sweet spot isn’t it? Those other men couldn’t reach if they tried. Your pussy was made for me and me only, sweetheart. You needed Paddy to fuck you. Only I can make you feel this good.” 

I could feel that familiar tension grownign deep in my stomach. It was a feeling I had only ever felt when it was me alone with my vibrator. It was building up faster than it ever had before. 

“Fuck, Paddy, I-” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I was clamping hard around his dick as I came. 

Paddy was muttering curse through gritted teeth as I held him in a vice grip. Then, just as my orgasm was dropping of, he shifted he weight to one hand and brought the other one down to rub tight circles on my clit as he began thrusting into me once again. It was almost overstimmulating as I was rushing towards a second orgasm so quickly. I was reduced to a blubbering mess under him as he did exactly what he set out to do, fuck my brains out. 

I could feel the second orgasm soaring towards me, my hands were gripping the bedsheets in a deathgrip. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence at this point. 

“You close baby?” Paddy asked. 

I managed to nod. 

“Go ahead, come for me one more time.” 

With that, my second orgasm his me like a wreaking ball, completely shattering the world around me. My walls squeezed him even tighter than before if that even possible. This time he fucked me through it chasing his own release before his rhythm faltered and he released thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside of me. He stayed like that releasing every last drop he had before slowly pulling out. 

He flopped beside me with a heavy sigh as I laid there catching my breath. I could feel the mixture of our releases seeping out of me but I honestly couldn’t care less about that. 

“How was that?” He asked. 

“Fucking perfect.” I said, eyes closed in pure bliss. 

I heard him let out a low chuckle before turning onto his side and pulling me to him so I was laying there with my back pressed against him. He held me close as we both enjoyed to stillness that had settled over the room. 

“You’re mine now, don’t forget it.” He whispered darkly in my ear. 

It sent a shiver down my spine in the best way possible. I turned around in his arms to look at him. I leaned in pressed a soft kiss to his lips before whispering back, “I’m yours.” 

taglist: @comicbookslut @dreamygirli3

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’

rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.

But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.

He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.

“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.

Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.

“Um, no.”

“What about your mama?”

“She’s with my dad.”

“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.

Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.

“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.

“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”

“No. I think he forgot.”

“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“You can come meet him!”

The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.

“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.

“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”

Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.

“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”

“His parents didn’t come.”

“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”

“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”

Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.

“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.

“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.

Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.

Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.

“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.

“You can walk with me.”

Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.

“Eddie!”

“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.

“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”

“A bit.”

“So no.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”

“C’mere.”

“Honey, you’re hurt-“

“Come here.”

Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.

“Think I’ll graduate?”

Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”

“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”

Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.

These were relieved tears, happy tears.

“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”

“Love you, though.”

“Love you so much.”

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 11

[chap ten] | [all chapters here] | [chap twelve]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Y'all this chapter got away from me! The plot just kept going and going and going, and I kept thinking up more ideas, so hopefully this doesn't feel too longwinded! Can't wait to see what everyone thinks of this one~

wc: 10.9k

Chapter Eleven

Sitting in the passenger seat of the van, you impatiently fussed with your fingernails, checking out the window every 30 seconds for a sign of Eddie, who had disappeared through the back door of a shady liquor store some five minutes ago. It was the night of homecoming - the night of the party - and Eddie insisted he pick up some booze on the way to Rick’s place. According to him, booze or food or drugs of some kind was your ticket into the party - from what you’d heard of this Rick guy, he sounded like a bit of a mooch, but maybe you were just assuming too much.

Leading up to this weekend, you’d been grounded thanks to the argument with your mom and your subsequent disappearance after that. Apparently, your mom had called your uncle Tom in hysterics, panicking about where you could have run off to. Trying to imagine your mother crying or even raising your voice seemed a little far-fetched, so you figured they’d lied about that in order to make you feel guilty for the whole thing. Hell, once you returned home that Thursday afternoon, you were lectured by both your father and uncle Tom about what you did, each of them reprimanding you for the thoughtlessness of what you did.

Honestly, being grounded for a week wasn’t even that bad. In fact, it was almost disappointing that it hadn’t been more satisfying. You were so looking forward to getting in enough trouble to lose TV privileges or maybe even car privileges, but really the punishment felt virtually non-existent. After only one day of your mom driving you to school (something that Eddie, of course, laughed at), she gave up on that and returned your keys, although she was adamant that you were only to drive to and from school or the ice rink.

You probably sounded crazy, but you wished that the punishment had been more severe, more substantial. Your first time being grounded was far from impressive, so you figured you’d have to up the ante at some point. Maybe even this weekend, although getting in trouble again wasn’t your top priority for tonight.

Eddie finally exited the liquor store, so you sat back up in your seat and straightened out your clothes as he approached the van. Admittedly, you’d been growing a little nervous waiting here in the back alley all by yourself, not that you’d tell Eddie that. No, as he climbed into the van with an eager look and a case of beer, you made sure to look bored and unaffected, as if you hadn’t nearly jumped out of your skin thanks to the crazy shouting of a homeless man just a couple minutes ago.

You looked between Eddie and the case of beer, watching as he deposited it on the floor behind his seat. A small knot formed between your brow as you asked with mild disappointment, “Only beer?”

In response, Eddie gave you a coy look before reaching inside his jacket, pulling out a wine cooler that he presented as if it were a sacred scepter. Your face immediately brightened as you accepted it, readjusting in your seat again as Eddie started up the van.

“As if I’d forget.” He teased, turning up the radio before backing out of the alley and onto the road. You popped the bottle cap of your drink, trying not to cringe at the taste as you took a quick sip - after all, a cheap wine cooler was still better than a beer any day of the week.

“Who’s gonna be there?” You asked between sips, your eyes studying Eddie’s face and the drum of his hand on the steering wheel.

You’d spent the last week at the lunch table with Eddie’s nerdy friends, and although they still seemed hesitant around you (except for Dustin, who didn’t seem to hesitate around anyone), they weren’t nearly as awkward and standoffish as before. Yeah, they were all still weird and you still felt like an outside observer of their little world, but they were growing on you, and you hoped that you were growing on them, to.

Eddie glanced at you for a moment with a false look of apology, “Unfortunately, only the freshmen.”

You glowered at his teasing, giving his shoulder a shove as he gleefully laughed, “Shut up.”

You nonetheless smiled as you shook your head, taking another long sip of your drink. Eddie's teasing had only gotten worse over the course of the past week, taking every opportunity he could to poke at you. Evidently, your make-up-turned-sleepover had done wonders, undeniably causing a change to the relationship between you two. It was becoming easier to relax around Eddie, easier to simply exist in each other’s space, easier to become friends. And although you were never the type to be too sincere, Eddie knew you had come to enjoy his company, even if there were days he taunted you too much.

“Beer?” Eddie requested simply, knowing that the case had shifted around while driving so he wouldn’t be able to blindly find it with his hand. You pretended to consider it for a moment, waiting for Eddie to shoot you a look before you acquiesced.

You shuffled in your seat, getting your knees under you while spinning around to reach into the back of the van. The case of beer had slid out of your immediate reach, so you had to stretch for it, half your body leaning into the back so you could get Eddie a drink. As your fingers grazed one of the bottles, you had to pull at your skirt with the opposite hand, feeling the cold breeze from the open window tickling at your exposed thighs. A small huff of annoyance escaped you as you tried to keep your balance, briefly relinquishing the grip on your skirt so you could steady yourself on Eddie’s seat. As you finally grabbed a bottle, you were too preoccupied to notice Eddie’s eyes flick over to your legs or his cheeks reddened as he ripped his gaze away.

You settled back into your seat, opening the bottle for Eddie before handing it to him. As you picked up your own drink again, you returned to your earlier thought, “Will Gareth be there at least?”

Eddie took a large swig of his drink before giving you a cheeky look, “Thinking about cheating on me?”

You had to refrain from hitting his shoulder again, instead opting to roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ll even let you watch, if you like.”

“And they say romance is dead.” You and Eddie grinned humorously at each other before he returned his attention to driving, and you returned your attention to the rhythmic drumming of his fingers.

Following the past week, you’d decided that Gareth was your favorite of the bunch, at least thus far - his expressive face was particularly amusing amidst the chaos of the lunch table, and although he was awkward, he was still nonetheless the easiest to talk to. It’s not that you exactly cared all that much about spending time with the nerds tonight, but rather Gareth could be someone to keep you company should Eddie disappear at any point in the evening.

As you two continued driving through Hawkins, you eventually entered the neighborhood your school was in, causing you to sneer as you saw the sign in the distance. Given the time, you knew that the dance was already in full swing, and for whatever reason that made you even more annoyed, “I almost hope we win, even if it is a joke - just to piss them all off.”

Eddie laughed a little, stealing a glance at your sour expression, “That’d be the first time I won anything. Think we should swing by to say hi?”

Despite your spiteful look, you still couldn’t the way Eddie’s silly suggestion made you smirk, “If by ‘say hi’ you mean ‘slash Duncan’s tires,’ then I’d love to. Asshole still hasn’t gotten what he deserves for his shit.”

As you turned back towards Eddie, you realized he looked… thoughtful? It caused your small grin to slacken - why did he look like he was considering what you said a little too seriously? Your brow rose questioningly as Eddie’s wicked eyes met yours, a dark smile on his lips. God, he was thinking about it.

“Then I guess we’re saying hi.” He said in an almost sing-song voice, pulling into the drive of the school before he missed it.

“Eddie.” Your tone was warning, and you nearly felt like a scolding mother by using his first name. You’d nearly forgotten this past month that Eddie was, in fact, a delinquent, someone who dealt drugs, who apparently “knew a guy” at the liquor store, who had had more than one run in with your uncle. But if you were in need of a reminder that you and Eddie were from very different worlds, well, this was it.

Entering the parking lot full of cars, he leveled you with an honest and serious look, “Tell me you don’t wanna slash his tires, and we’ll go. Promise.”

A little paranoid, you looked around, fearful that someone might spot Eddie’s van here. The sun had already set about half an hour ago, so the dark of night was at least a mild comfort to you, and it didn’t appear as if anyone else was nearby. Though, from experience, you knew that there may be a few straggles that could arrive late or frisky couples leaving early to fuck in the back of their cars. As you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, you met Eddie’s eyes with an unsure look - one of both worry and intrigue - and so he raised his brows, patiently waiting for your decision.

Shit, you really didn’t hate the idea. In fact, the selfish side of you loved it. Duncan, of all people, could more than afford to replace a set of tires, and you’d been desperately trying to think of ways to get back at him since that stupid pep assembly. And sure, you’d driven after a couple of drinks or trespassed onto properties in the middle of the night, so you weren’t exactly a stranger to bad behavior, you were far from a goody two-shoes. But damaging someone’s vehicle was a different story entirely, a different level of rebelliousness, and the thought caused your heart to jump with anxiety, as much as it also amused you.

Taking your lack of response as an answer, Eddie nodded simply, turning his eyes back to the road, “We’ll go.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached over and grabbed his forearm, “Wait.” So, Eddie looked at you again, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes, something daring about his expression. You took a deep breath, mustering up your courage as you held his stare; despite the bubble of fear in your chest, you attempted to grin, “Let’s say hi.”

“Atta girl.” The smile that spread across Eddie’s lips was wicked yet endearing, his eyes shining with an excitement that you hadn’t seen before. Your nerves grew even as you felt your neck get warm. Eddie reached over and began digging around in the glove compartment in front of you, brandishing a butterfly knife after a few moments, “Which car?”

The ease with which he revealed the knife and asked the question was almost surprising - again, you were reminded that Eddie wasn’t always just a sweet and funny nerd, he was still a guy with a bit of a record. You began to look across the darkened parking lot, furrowing your brow in search of the familiar, flashy silver of Duncan’s coupe; your heart drummed heavily in your chest even as you tried to shove down your anxieties.

As you searched, Eddie pulled the van into one of the furthest possible spots from the school, haphazardly over the lines so the vehicle was angled for a quick getaway. God, this was stupid - you were practically praying for this to go well, hoping you two weren’t caught.

“He’s parked right near the gym.” You groaned in annoyance. Of course Duncan’s car was there, he probably arrived early to help set up for the dance. You met Eddie’s eyes with trepidation, to which he gave you a reassuring smile.

“You can still chicken out, if you want.” His words were taunting, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes - he wouldn’t judge you for backing out.

Again, you ignored your nerves as you attempted to smirk back at Eddie; if you didn’t focus too hard on what you were about to do, it would be so much easier to just do it. God, you wished you two had had a little more to drink before deciding to do this, “I can’t back out, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Then let’s go get ‘em.” Eddie encouraged while shutting off the engine, climbing out of the van quickly and spinning back around to give you an insistent look. It was now or never, so before you could overthink it, you jumped out of the van and quickly made your way to Eddie’s side. He promptly began a brisk walk towards the gym, so you followed close behind, your adrenaline kicking in the closer you got to Duncan’s car.

Once there, you two crouched, forcing you to fuss with your skirt again - god, this really wasn’t the right outfit for this kind of shit. Eddie pulled the knife from his pocket and flicked it open with a well-practiced flourish, to which you grinned in amusement.

“Show off.” You whispered, although it almost seemed silly to keep your voice low, considering no one was around. Just to rub it in, Eddie began to flip the knife around, the blade moving quick enough that you couldn’t quite see how he was managing it.

“Don’t sound so jealous.” He teased before carefully grabbing the blade, holding the knife out towards you. You grabbed the handle, testing the weight while finding the best grip, “You know how to use that?”

You scoffed, looking around yourself again cautiously, “You know I don’t.”

Eddie smirked before pointing at the nearest tire, shuffling closer to you, “Come on, lemme show you.”

He set a hand on your shoulder, gently moving your body until you were at what must have been the best angle for slashing tires. Now, your back was to Eddie, and he came up close behind you just like he had back at the arcade; your cheeks flushed a little, as somehow this felt even more intimate than that. Because you were both haunched low to the ground, Eddie had to spread his knees to fit around you, practically engulfing you. You could feel his chest almost on your back, his breath brushing your ear, as he set his hand atop yours that was holding the blade. His fingers gripped yours comfortably as he began explaining in a low voice.

“It’ll take more force than you think.” He began to guide your hand, using the tip of the blade to point at different spots on the tire, “It’s not a balloon, okay. You wanna puncture near the rim, not the center - it’s thinner and impossible to fix. Don’t get too close, and be quick about it.”

As if reconsidering his own instructions, Eddie brought his hand down from your shoulder to rest on your hip, shuffling the both of you back a few extra inches. Your body jolted, hairs raising at the touch, which caused you to furrow your brow and pull yourself together - the hell was that about?

“You ready?” Eddie asked while quickly looking around one more time to make sure no one could see you two. You nodded, and so once he was repositioned, Eddie gripped your hand a little tighter and rapidly slashed the tire in one clean stroke. Although you were startled by the impact, the tire didn’t make nearly as much noise as you had anticipated - he was right, this was nothing like a balloon.

An eager, wicked smile graced your lips as you turned your head to look at Eddie, and this time - unlike the arcade - you did, in fact, bump foreheads. But both of you were far too excited to care, quickly laughing it off before Eddie pulled you towards the next tire. He removed his hands from you once he had you in position, clearly setting you free to do the damage yourself.

“Don’t slash all four - three means no insurance, he’ll have to pay outta pocket.”

You nervously look between Eddie and the tire, unsure if you could do this on your own. But, god, you were eager to do more damage, your excitement and adrenaline continuing to grow; there was something so incredibly therapeutic and freeing about exacting your revenge on Duncan this way.

So, you firmly set your jaw, which was challenging considering the desperate temptation to keep grinning like a Cheshire cat. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you aimed the blade in the same way that Eddie had, not allowing yourself too much time to think as you slashed quickly.

To your surprise, you managed to cut the tire quite effectively, hearing the air spew out in the same way that it had on the first go. You turned to smile eagerly at Eddie again, who looked far too proud of you. After a moment, he waved his hand to hurry you onto the final tire, which you promptly approached, repeating the same motion one final time.

You nearly laughed with how giddy you were, but before you could even begin to celebrate your victory, Eddie pulled you up to your feet, forcing you to run back to the van hand-in-hand. Neither of you said a word to each other until you were safely in your seats, Eddie quickly zipping out of the parking lot as you shared a near maniacal laugh. The sound of each other’s excitement was far too encouraging, causing the laughter to progressively get more and more wild until you finally had to take a breath and calm down.

“Jesus, how are you better at slashing tires than you are at a round of Donkey Kong?” You smiled from ear to ear as Eddie laughed again, enjoying just how exhilarated he sounded. So, he was thinking about the arcade, too?

You continued to laugh rather than give him a response, unable to contain your glee at the crazy thing that you’d just done. With your energy spiked, you quickly chugged down the remainder of your drink before caving in and grabbing a beer for yourself.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Once you were on the road winding around Lovers’ Lake, you couldn't help but laugh, shooting Eddie a suggestive grin, “What, trying to get frisky or something? What are we doing here?”

He shot you a look from the corner of his eye while finishing off his second beer, tossing the empty bottle thoughtlessly to the floor, “This is where Rick lives.”

“No shit?” You blew air between your lips, clearly not believing that a 20-something drug dealer could afford a house in this neighborhood.

“No, I’m just lying, we’re actually at Lovers’ Lake for a big old orgy.” Eddie teased with a scheming look, although a wide smile broke out across his lips a moment later. Refusing to be out done, you put on a faux look of consideration, finishing your own drink as well.

“Oh, now that’s much better than a school dance.” The two of you grinned conspiratorially as Eddie finally pulled into a driveway crowded with cars.

As you looked up to study the house through the windshield, Eddie grabbed the opened case of beer and stepped out of the van, coming around to your side and opening the door. You accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead you through the cluster of cars and up to the front door. Before you were even on the front porch, the smell of weed hit you as if there was a joint in your own hand, the loud music vibrating the windows of the house.

Eddie let you both in without knocking, the haze of smoke even heavier than you anticipated as you were greeted by a chorus of “hellos.” You tried your best to hold in a cough as smoke got in your eyes, Eddie’s fingers gripping yours a touch tighter as he tugged you past unfamiliar faces and towards the kitchen. As you let yourself be pulled along, you spotted Eddie’s bandmates clustered together on one of the couches, talking animatedly about something as if the party wasn’t happening around them.

In the kitchen, Eddie set the case of beer alongside a variety of other alcohol, continuing to pull you behind him as he looked over all the options available. He picked one up and held it out to you, raising his brow as if to ask if it was something you’d drink. You accepted it with a faint grin, not at all concerned with what the beverage actually was.

“Trying to get me drunk, Munson?” You teased, your eyes drifting towards a group of people that just entered the kitchen. Unconsciously, you must have made a face, because Eddie pulled you a step closer to him with a reassuring laugh.

“Just making sure you have fun tonight.” He grabbed another beer for himself before ducking his head close to yours, “And I wanna see if you get violent like you did at the bar.”

“Hey, that was self defense!” You stole your hand back so you could crack open your can, leaning back against the counter as you took a swig, “Unless someone here starts acting up, I won’t be hitting anyone.”

Eddie smirked, “Well, with this bunch…”

You gave him a warning glare, “If anyone touches me, I swear to god--”

With a chuckle, Eddie set a soothing hand on your shoulder, “Calm down, princess, you’ve got nothing to worry about tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You better be telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His deep brown eyes were serious, his stare practically burning into you. There was something about it that made you nervous the longer you stared back, so you took a quick drink to pull yourself together.

“Just to everyone else, right?” You smirked a little, hoping that you played off your nerves well enough. God, you didn’t know what was with you tonight. Eddie mirrored your expression, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes; he looked you up and down for a brief moment.

“Just everyone else.” He repeated before grabbing your hand again and dragging you back towards the crowded living room. It was almost instant the way his energy changed into something even more high energy once you two were surrounded by more people, and as you approached his friends, you looked around at everyone else, trying to get a better sense of the crowd here.

Aside from your group, all the other partygoers looked to be in their 20s, hell, maybe even 30s, and it felt odd to be amidst so many strangers rather than peers. After you met eyes with one guy, he looked at your legs in a lewd way that you didn’t appreciate, so you glowered back with a threatening glare, pressing closer to Eddie. Another couple people greeted Eddie with recognition, but he didn’t bother introducing them to you - he knew you well enough by now to recognize that you weren’t quite ready to socialize. Considering how weak your first two drinks were, you needed at least one or two more before you were even interested in meeting any new people.

Spotting you and Eddie, the boys attempted to make some room on the couch, but you waved it off dismissively, preferring to stand for the time being. Thoughtlessly, you tucked yourself into Eddie’s side a little, feeling him glance curiously at you in response.

With their fearless leader now present, the group began an excited discussion about Dungeons and Dragons, but the subject was lost on you within less than a minute. You resigned yourself to drinking and people watching, tuning out the conversation as your eyes traveled around the room. In one cluster of people a blunt was being passed around; off in the corner, a couple was haphazardly making out; back in the kitchen, the group of boys from earlier were snorting something that definitely wasn’t flour.

This was just like all the other parties you’d been to through the years, the only difference being that you weren’t familiar with this crowd in the slightest. No, you were used to parties where you knew most of the faces, parties in fancy mansions or summer homes, parties where you were still top of the food chain. Here, you meant nothing to most of these people, and they meant nothing to you, which provided its own odd sense of comfort. Although you were still tense thanks to this new environment, you allowed your shoulders to relax a little.

“What do you mean the Thing is a remake?” Eddie asked next to you, causing you to quickly whip around and join the conversation. You gave him a stunned look, crossing your arms judgmentally but carefully so as not to spill your drink.

“Everyone knows that.” You respond as if offended that he wasn’t aware, drawing the group’s attention to you in surprise.

“I didn’t.” Jeff admitted, to which you made a stunned face. The group had a few new additions to it since you last paid attention, and practically everyone appeared to be surprised by what you said. You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“I mean, it may as well be an original considering how kitschy the old movie is.” You started, taking a large sip of your drink, “I bet none of you knew it was a book, either.”

As they all shook their heads, you made an exasperated motion with your hands, turning to Eddie for his reaction. But you were surprised to see the amusement on his face, which made you quickly realize that he brought up a horror movie on purpose. You smacked his chest while fighting back a grin, causing him to laugh.

“You set me up!”

“They didn’t believe you were a horror fan!” He defended himself, pointing at the group to shift the blame. They all looked perhaps a little nervous, as if you might turn your attitude on them, “Ask her about Michael Myers, she’s got lots of opinions about him.”

You tried to insist that they don’t get you going on the subject, as if your love of horror was some dirty little secret to be kept. But the intrigued looks on their faces gave you brief pause; once Gareth asked you a question about the rest of John Carpenter’s work, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut.

So, the horror debate began, everyone chiming in on the quality of Season of the Witch or the scares in the Fog. The night went on much this way, everyone talking and drinking, arguing and laughing. Eventually, someone had brought the group a joint, and at that point you were already drunk, so you definitely smoked far more than you should have.

A little later in the evening, Rick announced that he had a bonfire going outside, and so you were dragged out by Eddie, who apparently couldn’t resist a good fire. Some of the partygoers took to jumping in the lake, with or without swimsuits, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the disgusted look you gave some of the nude swimmers.

“I’m gonna puke.” You joked, although Eddie momentarily believed you, trying to pull you to your feet so he could help you to the bathroom or behind a bush. This sent you into a fit of laughter, teasing him about being such a good boyfriend; were you getting drunk enough that you were becoming unclear, or had Eddie become drunk enough that he couldn’t pick up on your sarcasm?

As the night wore on, partygoers began to slowly disperse, some heading out while others chose to return to the house. The water must have been feeling colder, because everyone had stopped going in after a while. Eddie had attentively gotten the both of you drink after drink, doing so at a steady enough pace that you didn’t realize how drunk you were until it was too late; and once you were drunk, you could never say no to getting even drunker.

At some point, Jeff let you both know he was taking the other guys home, which led to you grabbing Eddie’s wrist so you could check the time, realizing that somehow it was already well past midnight. When Eddie asked if you were ready to go, too, your quick and aggressive “no” amused him far more than it normally would have. Clearly, you were both drunk.

You couldn’t remember when you had dragged Eddie to his feet and insisted he walk with you, but evidently you had, because he laughed again when you accused him of it instead.

“We could probably use a walk, I need to sober up.” Eddie added after explaining that this late night trek was your idea, “Gotta get us home somehow.”

You two followed a path along the lake, stumbling and tripping into each other thanks to the dark and your drunken strides. You were tempted to grab Eddie to keep yourself steady, but you refrained from doing so.

“I don’t wanna go home.” You slurred with a childish tone, hearing a slight laugh from Eddie, “Not like they want me there, anyway.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie turn to give you a look, “That can’t be true.”

Now, you shot him a look, although it was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out his features. You shook your head, “You haven’t met my parents.”

“So?” You saw him shrug then stumble over a branch a moment later, “If they really didn’t want you there, you’d know. Speaking from experience.”

You gasped smally in realization - god, you were such a bitch, complaining about your parents when you didn’t even know Eddie’s own situation. Maybe he was lucky you were drunk right now, because the instant guilt you felt wasn’t common for you.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” You reached out for his hand and gave it a small squeeze, “You must think I’m the worst.”

He hummed a little before tugging you into his side, comfortably resting his arm over your shoulder despite the fact that no one was around to see you together.

“I didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “You’re allowed to complain about your parents, I don’t mind. It's been so long since I’ve seen mine that they never cross my mind.”

You sighed deeply, still feeling guilty. Tentatively, you snaked your arm around Eddie’s middle so that it wouldn’t be awkwardly hanging between you two, “Still, I shouldn’t bitch about mine when yours aren’t around.”

You felt Eddie shrug, “I’ve got Wayne, I don’t need them.”

A small smile graced your lips, and so you looked back up at Eddie again, actually able to make out his features now that you were close enough. He, too, had an easy, drunken smile on his lips, and for whatever reason you couldn’t help but stare, enjoying how he looked in the moonlight. You took in the slight bounce of his curls, the way his lashes shined in the pale light, the way his smile flattered his lips. You had to force yourself to look away, and briefly two thoughts were competing in your mind: Eddie was good looking, in his own way, and there was no reason for you to find his looks appealing.

As your gaze trailed across the rippling lake, you thoughtlessly, drunkenly blurted out, “I think my dad’s having an affair.”

Eddie whipped his head to level you with a surprised look - was he taken aback by the statement itself or the all too casual way in which you said it? You glanced up at him again, briefly shrugging as if what you said was perfectly normal. When Eddie raised his brows - a silent request that you elaborate - you jutted your lower lip in brief consideration.

“Let’s turn around, I want another drink.” You dipped out from under Eddie’s arm, spinning around to head back in the direction of Rick’s house. Eddie followed suit.

“You trying to distract me or yourself?” He questioned, sticking his hands in his pockets. You shot him a slight glare, tripping over a rock in the process. Before you could go crashing down to the ground like an idiot, Eddie helped steady you, wrapping his arm around you again in hopes that it would keep you from falling on your face. Your cheeks were already warm thanks to the alcohol, but now they were burning with embarrassment as you glowered at the path in front of you.

The walk back to the house was silent, Eddie sitting you down by the slowly dying bonfire before he ran inside. Only a small group still lingered by the burning embers, so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they didn’t spare you a second glance. You stared into the flames thoughtlessly until Eddie returned, offering you a bottle that you happily accepted.

“So,” Eddie sat next to you on the small bench, bumping your knee with his, “You think your dad’s cheating?”

You rolled your eyes as you took a large swig; your smile was unamused as you met his gaze, shaking your head, “We’re not gonna talk about it, Eddie.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, mulling something over with those glossy, drunken eyes for a few moments, “I like that you’re using my name now.”

You made a bit of a face before realizing he was right - you had been using his first name nearly all night, weirdly enough, “Huh… I didn’t notice.”

He grinned, looking you up and down fondly, “Guess that means you like me, doesn’t it?”

You smiled humorously, “Well, yeah, we already talked about that, like, a week ago.”

Eddie studied your face for just a moment, “So… we’re friends?”

Your expression brightened as you leaned your shoulder against his, “Yeah, we also established that.”

You took another drink, absentmindedly fussing with a loose thread on Eddie’s frayed jeans while your eyes studied the fire again. On the other side of the circle, the group of strangers rose to their feet and returned to the house, still seeming entirely unaware of you or Eddie. You watched them go, hearing the brief sound of music drifting towards you as they opened the back door; your gaze drifted to Eddie’s hands, watching as he fidgeted with one of his rings. You realized that his foot was bouncing a little, and you paused the hand that had been toying with the fabric of his pants. You furrowed your brow - was he nervous about something?

Wordlessly, you put your drink in Eddie’s hand, prompting him to look at you again, “I have to drive us, remember?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Didn’t Rick say anyone who needed to stay the night can? I don’t wanna be drunker than you tonight.”

“Too late.” Eddie teased, but nonetheless took a quick sip, “You’re a lightweight, princess, you’ll always be drunker than me.”

You grinned, “Whatever, so long as you’re drunk, too, right?”

“If I drink, will you talk to me about your dad?” You groaned at his insistence, taking the bottle back from him.

“Why do you care so much about that?”

Eddie shrugged, “You don’t talk a lot about personal stuff; you threw that out there and then tried to act like it wasn’t anything. Call it curiosity.”

You leaned towards Eddie a little, “Talking about personal stuff leads to pity or guilt or… something. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, most of all you.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, turning his face towards the flames. Again, you caught yourself studying him, the shine of his eyes, the shape of his nose; the way the firelight danced on his face was damn flattering.

“A question for a question, then, does that seem fair?” He looked back towards you, recalling your first ‘date’ with one another.

An eager grin crossed your face, “Answer the question or take a shot?”

Eddie, too, smiled at the suggestion, even as he shook his head at your insistence to keep drinking, “Fine, but I’m limiting your shots, otherwise you won’t answer a damn thing.”

He stood before also pulling you to your feet, guiding the both of you up to the back porch. Once you were seated, Eddie ran back inside again, and you watched through the window as he grabbed a new bottle of booze and maneuvered around other party guests in search of a shot glass. He returned a minute later, sitting close to you.

“You first.” Eddie offered while carefully trying to pour the first shot. Nonetheless, he still managed to spill a few small drops on your knee, which you brushed away with the side of your hand, too drunk to care about how sticky your skin felt.

You hummed in consideration, “Seeing as you’re so curious about my parents, where are yours?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m only answering if you promise to actually explain yourself when I ask my question.”

“That’s not how this game works.”

“You’re avoidant, it wouldn’t be fair if I poured my heart out for nothing.” He taunted with a challenging look in his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, to which he grinned largely.

“Thank you, is that so hard?” You glared smally, but Eddie was unphased as he playfully nudged you, “I don’t want you to pity me, either, okay? I’ve worked through this shit already. Mom died when I was… I dunno, three? Four? It’s been long enough that I don’t remember her at all. Dad ran off a couple years after that and left me with Wayne.”

You stared at each other for a few long moments, your eyes soft as you tried to imagine little Eddie dealing with that shit at such a young age. His brows went up as if to remind you not to feel sorry for him, so you nodded; he assessed you for a second longer.

“So, why do you think your dad’s cheating?”

“‘Why’ as in what's his reason or ‘why’ as in what’s my proof?”

Eddie sighed deeply, trying his very best not to smile at you, “Both, you smart ass.”

You couldn’t help but grin cheekily at his reaction, taking a moment to consider your answer. As you did, you once again found your hand on Eddie’s leg, fussing with the rip at the knee.

“He’s never around. Always says he’s working late or meeting a business partner or spending the weekend with friends. Doesn’t even spend time with my mom anymore. Honestly, I don’t think they ever had a good relationship - I think he just liked mom ‘cause she was pretty… And the lipstick I saw on his collar was a shade my mom would never wear…”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the response, grateful that you actually gave him an honest, straight answer. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be taking shots, you still took a large drink from the bottle in your hand. You didn’t want to linger on your family, so you moved on quickly.

“You ever had a real girlfriend before?”

“Only fake ones.” His quick response made you roll your eyes as you nudged him with your elbow. You then comfortably rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder, keeping your face turned up to watch his, causing him to laugh nervously, “No, um… there was one - hell, two - chicks that were almost something, but no.”

“That’s surprising.” Eddie’s brow shot up curiously, so you shrugged simply, “I just figured weird girls would be into you.”

It was clear on his face that Eddie wasn’t sure whether or not to take that as a compliment, “Only weird girls?”

You gaped at him for a moment as you tried to find the proper explanation, as much as drunk you just wanted to blurt out whatever came to mind first, “I just mean… you’re nice, you’re attentive, you’re attractive. You seem like the kinda guy who would make any normal girl… happy.”

Eddie’s expression stayed twisted in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were - and weren’t - saying, his cheeks tinged with pink, “And what do you consider a normal girl? Not a… popular chick? Or a princess like you?”

His question was pointed, flustering you, so you quickly sat back up and shrugged with something of a defensive face; you did not want to get into a drunken debate with him right now, “I don’t know, Eddie. Just… a girl.”

Eddie stared at you a moment longer, but soon shook his head and attempted to move away from the subject, his eyes conveying something that you couldn’t make sense of right now, “Do you miss any of your exes?”

You immediately laughed, unable to contain your amusement at the question, all too happy to forget the brief moment of awkwardness between you two. Eddie couldn’t help but grin along with you, “Hell no. They never even lasted long enough for me to think I loved them, how could I miss them?”

“You never loved any of them?” Eddie seemed surprised, so you shook your head, “Were there any you… almost loved?”

“Hmm, you’ll have to wait, it’s my turn to ask the question.” You responded cheekily. You barely considered what you wanted to ask next before grinning, “So, no girlfriends, but you’ve had sex, right?”

Eddie’s expression faltered a little, much to your surprise. For a moment, you stared at each other, Eddie in consideration and you in anticipation. You couldn’t help your surprise when he opted to down the shot just a moment later - you hadn’t thought that there’d possibly be a question that Eddie wouldn’t answer, you saw him almost as an open book in many ways.

Did that mean he hadn’t had sex? Or is it just something he didn’t want to discuss with you? Maybe the story was embarrassing or painful? Suddenly, you were all too curious about why Eddie wouldn’t answer, but you had to refrain from pushing the subject, else you two might get into a spat.

And so, your game continued, the two of you answering questions and taking shots, getting into the occasional debate about a stupid inquiry or a thoughtless comment. You eventually abandoned the game aspect and simply returned to talking, absorbed in conversation and finally slowing down your drinking. You stopped keeping track of just how much you both had a while ago, your blurry vision and slurring voice more than enough to convince you that you were drunk off your ass.

It had gotten so late that you both realized at some point the music had stopped playing inside, that the lights had been mostly turned off, that drunken conversation was no longer occurring from anywhere around you. You tried looking at Eddie’s wrist watch again, but it was pretty much impossible for you to actually see the time - needless to say, that was your cue that you two needed to call it a night.

So, you stood, balancing yourself with your hands on Eddie’s shoulders as your head spun, which made you giggle a little. Eddie waited to rise to his feet until you looked steady, slowly standing and keeping his hands on you to ensure neither of you went toppling to the ground. You continued to laugh as you stared at each other for a few long moments until Eddie finally began to guide you into the house.

Once inside, you whispered that you needed to use the restroom, so Eddie led you there, trying to look around the house and find a place for you to sleep as he waited. When you exited the bathroom, he wasn’t there to help you stumble your way through the mostly dark house, so with a pout you looked around yourself, poking your head into the other doors around you to see if there were any free beds to crash in.

“Eddie,” You drunkenly whined, walking back down the hall in his direction. He held a finger to his lips, instructing you to be quiet and not wake the others. Once you reached him, you delicately grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper, “All the beds are taken.”

Eddie sighed to himself while looking around at all the partygoers sleeping in various spots of the living room. He didn’t know how late (or early) it was, but he could tell you were growing exhausted, the booze and weed finally catching up to you. He was tired as all hell, too, but unfortunately you two were beaten to all the comfy places to rest, too caught up in conversation to realize that the party had ended a while ago.

Eddie met your tired eyes thoughtfully, taking you in. In his own drunken state, he was nearly distracted by your pretty features; he’d always known you were pretty, it was damn obvious, but usually he was able to keep it from distracting him. As you two stood close together, illuminated by only the kitchen light streaming into the room, his stomach flipped at the arch of your brow, the curve of your nose, the pout of your lips. Eddie had to shake away the distraction of you and focus.

He put his hand on top of yours - the one that still held his arm - as he whispered, “Come on, I can make room in the van.”

Eddie began to lead you from the house, scooping up an extra couple pillows and blankets that were scattered about the living room as you trekked through it. You let yourself be pulled along without question, helping Eddie with the pillows before you tip-toed out the door.

The air was brisk by the lake, causing you to inhale sharply at the unexpected temperature - god, the van was going to be freezing, wasn’t it?

As Eddie threw open the back doors and began shifting things around the bed of the van, you watched him absentmindedly, drunkenly humming some nonsensical tune to yourself. You couldn’t see the way Eddie grinned at the sound. Of course, he already knew you were a lightweight, but considering how well you paced yourself tonight, he hadn’t noticed just how drunk you’d gotten. All the niceties and relaxing of your shoulders should’ve been a dead giveaway, but he was too caught up in those moments to think about it.

Once he finally made the back of the van as cozy as he possibly could, Eddie spun around and presented it to you as if it were a god damn chariot. You giggled smally.

“All yours, princess.” He stepped aside to let you climb in, so you sat and began to remove your shoes.

An inquisitive look furrowed your brows, “You’re staying with me, right?” Eddie shrugged simply, and momentarily your tone grew a little stronger, “I am not sleeping in this van alone.”

“What, you scared?” You narrowed your eyes at Eddie before he looked past you and at the cramped bed of the vehicle, “You know it’s gonna be a tight fit.”

An abrupt laugh escaped your mouth, and as Eddie looked at you in surprise, you raised your brow suggestively before returning your attention to your shoes. Sure, he’d heard you make sexual jokes often enough before, so he shouldn’t be surprised; maybe it was how you laughed, or maybe he was just too drunk. Either way, he felt the back of his neck grow warm.

You set your shoes aside before looking back up at Eddie, pulling your stiff jacket off your shoulders. You looked as if you’d already forgotten the silly little exchange you just had.

“Come on, Eddie, I can see you’re tired.” You got up on your knees and shuffled across the back of the van, setting your belongings in the front seat. You spun back around to face Eddie, sitting cross-legged despite the fact that you were wearing a skirt; you figured it was much too dark for Eddie to see anything anyway.

With a sigh, Eddie tugged off his own vest and jacket, ignoring the way you sat before him - he was pretty wiped now that you mentioned it. So, you’d sleep next to each other? You two had already done that before. You were both drunk and cold and tired, after all, so what could possibly go wrong?

Eddie crawled into the van and shut the doors behind him, leaving the two of you in near darkness. He shuffled towards the front of the van as well, bumping into your shoulder in the process and making you giggle. He felt a quick surge of warmth at the sound, but quickly tried to shake off the feeling.

Eddied added his things to the front seat, his shoes and jacket joining yours before he began fussing with the blankets, attempting not to bump you again. As you both tried to settle in and get comfortable, it became clear the van was going to be a little cramped considering that you two were trying to fit between junk and old equipment that was pushed as far to the side as they’d go. You kept brushing elbows or knocking knees, which kept making you drunkenly giggle, until finally you were both settled into some semblance of a comfortable position.

“Eddie…” You whispered, rolling on your side to face him; he had his back to you as if to maintain some propriety, much like your sleepover last week. He sighed before shuffling around once again to face you, nearly taken aback but just how close you actually were. Was there actually that little space or were you closer than you needed to be?

“Yes?” He whispered back, although he realized there was no need for either of you to be so quiet. The corner of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

Your eyes had adjusted well enough to the lack of light in the van, and so you simply stared at Eddie for a few moments, taking in what features you could see. Light from the moon reflected on his hair and vaguely illuminated his eyes, shadows accentuating the planes of his face. You smiled fondly at him. Once again, your drunken mind was realizing Eddie’s good looks while also trying to resist them. He was far more good looking than people, including you, gave him credit for.

You giggled to yourself, feeling warmth in your cheeks, which caused Eddie to give you one of his rascally grins that you were just thinking about. If only he knew you were laughing because of his lovely face.

“Did you need something?” He urged, still waiting for you to actually speak.

“It’s quiet.” You answered simply, causing him to now laugh, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah, because we’re trying to sleep.”  He teased, rolling onto his back with a content sigh. You huff to yourself, pushing back the blankets you’d just settled into; Eddie rolled his eyes at how antsy you were all of a sudden Was this yet another drunken habit he’d have to keep track of?

“Can I turn on the radio?” You began to shuffle up towards the front, but Eddie reached out for you blindly, managing to grab your leg; lucky for both of you, it was dark enough that he couldn’t see up your skirt despite this angle.

“No, you’ll kill the battery.”

You huffed, turning your attention back to Eddie, “Cassette player?”

Eddie sighed, “Up front.”

He released your leg, and you crawled into the front of the van, found the player, and crawled back next to him. You set the cassette player on the floor between the front seats and hit play, not at all concerned about what was in the deck; so long as there was something playing, you’d be satisfied.

Eddie smiled as the music started - Dio, the Last in Line. One of his favorite albums, hence why it practically lived in this cassette player. He’d left it on the B-side from the last time he’d played it, and admittedly he was happy to see that you were content to listen to it.

You once again fussed with the blankets and pillows, settling in even closer beside Eddie, who hoped you’d finally relax. It took you a minute, but once you finally seemed to be mellowed out, Eddie closed his eyes, speaking softly, “Night.”

But instead of responding, you propped yourself up on your elbow again thanks to your sporadically firing thoughts, going back to studying his face. Eddie looked at you with a furrowed brow, wondering what the hell was going through your head and where all this energy came from. He had yet to see you act like this, so hyperactive and restless.

With your free hand, you reached towards Eddie impulsively, making him nervous as you ever so lightly brushed your fingertips through the ends of his hair. His eyes widened, nearly shrinking from your touch as you hummed to yourself as if in confirmation of something.

“Are you… okay?” He asked, grabbing your wrist delicately, which caused you to curl your fingers just a little.

“I wanted to know if your hair was soft.” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, continuing to fuss with the end of his curls, “I think the shampoo you’re using is too harsh.”

Eddie made a puzzled face, not prepared for that comment. Hell, he wasn’t prepared for any of what’s happened in the past couple minutes. You continued to play with his hair absentmindedly, rocking your head lightly to the music, and Eddie hated to admit that he enjoyed it. He knew that you weren’t aware of what you were doing, you’d proven yourself to be far too drunk for that, but he liked to think that you were enjoying this as well.

“What makes you say that?” Eddie asked gently, realizing he was leaning into your touch just a little. The faintest of laughs escaped you, and you tilted down a little closer to him.

“Your hair seems heavy.” You state simply - obviously that made sense to you, but Eddie still didn’t quite understand. Momentarily, he didn’t worry about you leaning closer because he was trying to understand what you meant by that.

“Heavy?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was bright as you leaned over him, assessing his hair with your hand, “Your product weighs it down.”

Eddie chuckled a little, loosening his grip on your wrist and lightly drawing his finger down your forearm. A content sigh escaped your lips, the feathery touch of his calloused hand sending a shiver up your spine. Your sound made Eddie realize what he was doing, and so he quickly stopped, feeling far too warm - why the hell did he do that? He suddenly grasped that his touch was far too intimate and personal, and although that didn’t seem to bother you right now, it certainly made him pause; he was not quite drunk enough to excuse that.

“Let’s worry about my hair tomorrow.” Eddie instructed while removing his hand from your arm; he needed to relax, he was getting far too worked up by your close proximity and your hooded eyes. He figured you didn’t mean to be so close and personal and touchy with him right now, you were simply drunk.

Despite Eddie’s words, you stayed put, continuing to fuss with his hair and study his face with drunken, unabashed fondness. You looked between his eyes, and only then did you realize just how close you were to him.

As the second track on the cassette started, you considered the look on Eddie’s face - there was something hesitant there, something taken aback. You were very much in his space, but that wasn’t a problem, right?

Well, no, but it was weird for you. Not that you were terribly concerned - you were far too crossfaded to think clearly right now. One second, the small, sober part of your brain wondered what the hell you were doing, but the next second your drunkenness won out and you didn’t give a damn. Right now, you didn’t have a care in the world, all your focus trained solely on Eddie.

You found yourself attempting to hum along to the song that you didn’t recognize - you’d have to ask Eddie what this was later, if you could actually remember it. And your humming caused him to give you that charming smile that you had slowly become fond of. It was different from the playful grins, the mocking smirks, or the laughing smiles you saw regularly - this smile was more intimate, more personal, reserved just for you.

You were so caught up in that sweet smile that you didn’t realize at first that you were leaning in closer. Eddie didn’t seem to notice it either, as if he were hypnotized by the intensity of your gaze, by the softness of your touch and the closeness of your body. The only hint that Eddie was aware of what you were doing was the ever so subtle sigh that left his parted lips, which finally drew your attention away from his eyes.

His lips looked so damn plush, so damn inviting. Have you ever noticed that before? At this moment, it seemed impossible to ignore, so how had you been so unaware of it?

Eddie looked so damn… kissable.

And with all sober thoughts pushed to the wayside, you decided you needed to find out if that theory was true.

You closed the small gap between you two, pressing your lips to Eddie’s with an experimental softness, a tentative longing. A low, surprised moan rumbled in Eddie’s chest as you felt his body go rigid beneath yours; for a brief moment, the kiss was nearly nonexistent, as if Eddie was hesitant to reciprocate. But within nearly the same breath, his fingers traced delicately along your arm again, causing you to shiver as you let out a sound of satisfaction.

Feeling Eddie relax against you, you curled your fingers tighter in his hair, kissing him more firmly and confidently. You lowered your body to rest comfortably in his side, your now free hand cupping the back of his neck as you hooked an ankle over his. Eddie’s lips were soft yet musky, firm yet unfledged; his light stubble tickled your upper lip, a subtle smoky smell clinging to his skin.

Realizing that you were practically holding your breath, you forced yourself to pull away from the kiss, breathing deeply against Eddie’s lips. There was barely any space between you two, breath mingling, chests heaving, lips brushing. You were nearly tempted to pull back further just so you could meet his deep brown eyes, but you didn’t dare move for fear that it would break whatever spell you were under.

You thoughtlessly licked your swollen lower lip, causing the tip of your tongue to graze along Eddie’s lips as well. A surprised groan leapt out of him, your body suddenly feeling taut and flushed in response; god, you wanted him to make that sound again.

You dug your fingers into the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him back towards you, your lips feverish and fierce as they pressed against his. This time, he reciprocated with aching curiosity, his gentle hands desperate as one cradled the back of your head and the other gripped the small of your back; as you pressed yourself flush against Eddie and rolled your hips, it caused the both of you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands cupped Eddie’s jaw excitedly, holding him close as you moved to straddle his waist. Another needy, amorous sound rose in his throat as you rolled your hips again, settling comfortably on top of him as you began to eagerly explore from his neck to his chest to his waist. You twisted his shirt in your fists as if you were afraid he’d pull back, kissing with even more sloppy feverishness.

Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, your body jolting under Eddie’s more tentative touch. The feel of his fingertips was oh-so light as he traced your arms, your spine, your exposed thigh. In response, you hungrily prodded at his lips with your tongue, excited by the low sound in his throat as he opened his mouth to you. You kissed Eddie fiercely as your hands returned to firmly gripping his jaw, keeping him there as if he were the air you breathed.

Continuing to rut slowly against him, a satisfied smile dared to interrupt your kiss as you felt Eddie growing hard beneath your hot center. Teasingly, you pulled your lips away from Eddie’s, his own chasing after yours in a way that made you grin with lustful satisfaction. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing heavily as your nose brushed against his. You slowly, gently dragged your lips across Eddie’s, over his hot cheek and up to his ear; his whole body shuddered beneath you as your breath tickled his skin.

“You’re good at this.” You drunkenly teased, voice low and breathy; you were certain you felt Eddie jolt again as he tried to catch his own breath. You turned to study him, awaiting some smart remark that never came; the look on Eddie’s face suggested he was too far gone to have any quips for you. You smiled again, brushing your lips against his cheek; you were tempted to keep taunting him, but became all too engrossed in watching him to even try.

Eddie’s parted lips were swollen, his breathing heavy as he stared up at the ceiling with a nearly stunned expression, trying to collect himself. His eyes bounced around as if in search of something, his hand unconsciously tracing invisible lines on your arm. You dragged your gaze down his throat - his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously - then to his chest, watching it deeply rise and fall. The smile hadn’t left your face, you realized as you brought your lustful gaze back up to his gentle face.

Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he finally met your eyes, looking so soft and unsure and questioning as he drank you in. Your grin widened fondly as you simply stared at one another, which encouraged Eddie to smile himself, albeit with some hesitation. Feeling the rapid beating of his heart against you, you slid a hand to rest on his chest, tearing your gaze away from his to watch your fingers brush delicate circles in his shirt.

Drunkenly, you were torn between wanting to relax against Eddie and wanting to go back in for another kiss; hell, you could probably make out with him all night if he’d let you. But even with intoxication clouding your head, you could see in his expression that he could only handle so much of you, that he might burst if you kept teasing him and feeling him and kissing him.

Again, the sober part of you briefly reared her head, desperately trying to make sense of the fact that you just kissed Eddie as if your life depended on it. Thinking about how wild that was, you couldn’t help but giggle, which drew his intense eyes back to yours. You raised a brow as you studied his features yet again, a happy look on your face.

“Our secret?” The words came out of your mouth without you being fully aware of them. Through your drunken haze, you could see the way his expression furrowed at the question, the way his eyes seemed to panic as if he were finally crashing back down to earth.

“‘Our secret?’” He repeated in a confused, gruff tone. You nodded simply, resting your head down beside his, feeling the tickle of his hair on your cheeks. You didn’t catch the way he had to collect himself, how he swallowed hard in disappointment before replying gently, “Yeah, okay…”

If you were sober, you would have seen the upset in his expression, heard the doubt in words. Of course, if you were sober this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. But because you were drunk - both from alcohol and from that kiss - you entirely missed the way Eddie’s energy deflated like a balloon.

Instead, you smiled wide like a drunken fool, sinking into the blankets and pillows beside Eddie with a sense of satisfaction. You kept one hand resting comfortably on his chest, your face nearly in the crook of his neck; you realized how exhausted you were now, the feeling having escaped you while you were absorbed in the sensation of Eddie’s lips against yours.

As a tired fog slowly began to encompass you, Eddie gently set his hand on top of yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. You closed your eyes with a comfortable sigh, letting Eddie’s steady breathing help lull you to sleep.

Just as you were on the brink of consciousness, you felt Eddie’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low as he gently muttered something that you couldn’t quite make out.

.

.

additional a/n: So uuuuuh surprise? 👀In case y'all missed it or were unsure, the song referenced in this chap is Mystery by Dio, which is one of my fav songs by the band and one I've associated with these two idiots for a while! Now, let's all scream and shout about this chapter together, because I'm SO eager to see what y'all think~

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie

@damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape

@fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola @sav12321

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[maculategiraffe]

been thinking about how the baby uses the word "love"

he says it with great emphasis and weight. about people ("I love you, auntie mac") and also about activities ("I love making cheesy rice with you, auntie mac"). he will repeat it multiple times over the course of the activity, as if he feels it is important to establish. he will sometimes say it about objects but I feel like it's usually more about an experience he's associating with the object ("I love [riding] my scooter"). same with places-- he will say "I love school" but he means the experience, not the building.

(he doesn't really seem to have much attachment to objects as objects-- we all tried for awhile to find a doll or stuffed animal or blanket or something that would work as a transitional / comfort object, but he doesn't seem to get emotionally invested in objects like that. books are for reading, toys are for playing with, blankets are for pretending to be a ghost. if he's not doing the related activity, the thing doesn't interest him.)

recently his little cousin had come over to play and we were all playing musical instruments and singing, first "old macdonald had a farm" and then on to "the ants go marching." the baby was feeling kind of emotionally raw because it was his naptime and when we struck up a third song ("twinkle twinkle little star") the baby put down his ukulele and said a little tearfully "I love 'old macdonald.'" meaning that he really just wanted to sing it again

then another time he was at my house and my mom texted and said my cousin was coming over to their house and to bring the baby over to see him. and again the baby was feeling kind of emotional (post nap, hungry) and he said "I don't want to see uncle [cousin]"

and I said "how come?" and he thought about it for a minute and then said "I don't love uncle [cousin]"

and I wasn't sure if it was like... an actual antipathy or what, so I said "do you not like him? or do you just mean he's not one of the people you are the very most comfortable around?" and he said "I just mean he's not one of de people I am the very most comfortable around"

I think he uses "I love" very deliberately to identify things (people, activities) he finds restorative. comforting, engaging, fulfilling. not things that are exciting and stimulating but also tiring (like parties and other special occasions, or the zoo, or the transportation museum), but things and people that make him feel happy and safe and also better, if he's not feeling so great to begin with.

and when he says "I love [whatever]" it's like he's making a note. adding it to a mental catalogue, and encouraging me (or whoever he's with) to do so as well. like "for future reference, I love this"

and he keeps the mental catalogue for other people too. he'll say "mommy loves hummingbirds" or "let's watch sword in the stone. you love sword in the stone"

keeping meticulous track of what sparks joy. love that 💖

[meatonfork]

hoiii, can you do a platonic team 141 x reader where s they’re the youngest/smallest one on the team yet they seem to be able to beat everyone on when sparring and everyone’s like wtf…

omg hello! i’ve never had a request, so this is new hehe

i’m not great at writing! i will try my absolute best to make this good. i struggle with adding personality to my characters without over explaining. so let’s see how this goes!

——————————————————————————

Bloody Hell

pairing: platonic 141 x gn!reader :)

*readers call sign is grim :)

warnings: none!

——————————————————————————

you’ve found that being the smallest and the youngest on the 141 had its cons. but, you’ve also found that it had its pros.

“uncle! i’m tap- i’m tapping! you can STOP-!” soap was writhing and sputtering beneath you.

you and the rest of the team were in the cafeteria, having just eaten lunch, when soap had decided today would be a great day to challenge you in sparring. seeing as none of the guys had seen you in action, they figured this would be easy for him. it was almost comical, seeing their smug smirks and eyes shining in hunger at seeing someone so small to absolutely demolish in combat.

he also wanted to show you, the newbie, your place. your stature was tiny compared to ghost. when stood next to him, you looked like an ant. squash-able and minuscule.

but, you had been chosen for the 141 by laswell herself. who was price to argue? your folder was mostly confidential. there wasn’t much to go on. but one thing price knew for sure was that you’re a force to be reckoned with. just because you were small didn’t mean you weren’t strong, and soap soon found that out.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea, sergeant.” your eyebrow had raised, and your voice was an eery calm. soap almost backed down. almost.

he probably should’ve.

“oh, c’mon. scared i’ll whoop yer ass, grim?” his face donned a cocky smirk, and you couldn’t resist.

poor guy.

with a sigh, you stood from your seat. the guys looked for any sign of hesitation, or nerves from you, but found none.

as the both of you moved to a clearer area, the others followed. gaz was mentally preparing to help you after you got your ass handed to you, and ghost honestly just wanted to see how this played out.

soap quickly got into position, feet spread shoulder length, one slightly in front of the other, and both hands brought up. you stood across from him, and cracked your neck before quickly getting into the same position.

“are you sure you’re ready, soap?” you wanted to make sure this was absolutely something he wanted. there was no going back after, and you wanted him to at least have a little dignity.

he laughed.

he was ready.

price stood to the side, yelling out a go ahead. he, himself, also a little curious to see how this played out.

soap immediately lunged to your right side. sidestepping, you drove an elbow into his back. he lost balance, but quickly regained it and spun towards you. his lip twitched a bit, and his eyes narrowed. maybe this wasn’t going to plan, but he was confident he would win this. he tried to kick your leg out from under you, but he was too cocky and you caught on, jumping up slightly.

soap heavily relied on brute strength, but you were quicker. he threw a punch, only for you to duck and charge at his midsection, throwing him to the mat beneath you.

he thrust his hips up and quickly flipped you, so he was on top and pinning you to the mat.

you smirked, “i’m likin’ the view serg.”

soaps eyes widened, and his grip slightly went slack. not much. but, enough for you to get a hand loose and land a punch to his cheek.

using the momentum of the punch to your advantage, you quickly rolled the opposite direction of him and onto your knees. soap got up quicker than expected, throwing a punch to your side, and next you knew, you were back on the ground. back in the same position you were just in.

a sigh left your lips, but your eyes were glistening in satisfaction seeing a bruise forming on his jaw. a mischievous smile slowly grew on your face. soap’s eyes narrowed once more.

“wha- FUCK” with a swift knee to the groin, soap toppled over. you pounced on top of your sergeant and quickly threw him into a headlock.

“oh fuck!” gaz’s voice rang from somewhere to the side.

soap’s whines and gasps were loud, and the smile only grew on your face. hair falling in your face moving in and out with your heavy breaths.

“uncle! i’m tap- i’m tapping! you can STOP-!” soap was writhing and sputtering beneath you.

you let go of the man below you, and stood. hands on your hips, heavy breath, and a satisfied smile.

johnny lied there a moment, trying to catch is breath. opening his eyes, he sees your hand. you haul him to his feet and pat his back.

“are you okay serg.? didn’t mean to hurt ya too badly.” your voice held amusement, but it was sincere.

“bloody hell, johnny. they got ya good” ghost sauntered over and crossed his arms. you look over to see his eyes scanning you, a flash of approval ran over his eyes. you weren’t quite sure, but you thought you saw a small tug at his mask near his mouth.

sick, he thought you did well.

gaz and price made their way over, small smiles on their faces.

“ah, whatever. lets go again.”

“what? are you sure?”

“yeah, let’s go.”

soap lost every time. he also always had an excuse.

there was something in his eye.

he lost his footing.

he heard a bird overhead and wanted to see it.

you beat him every time, but you also managed to take a few hits yourself.

ghost and gaz continued to stand at the sidelines, but price walked off a bit ago. shaking his head and muttering to himself about ‘soap’s gonna get fucked up’ or something like that.

——————————————————————————

a/n: thank you sm for reading! again, i don’t ever write so i hope this satisfied you! i’m working on getting better at characteristic and really getting the boys’ right. criticism is always loved and wanted <3

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hello! How are you doing? I was wondering if I could get a fic of maybe something angst with Miles Earth 42? Maybe reader and him have an argument about him being the Prowler?

Full Of Apologies But Never Sorry

You stared down at your hands, completely still and shocked.

You only came into Miles' room after his mom let you in, and you didn't snoop, you never did.

You never needed too. Miles was honest with you.

You merely came to talk because he called you, saying he wanted to apologize for missing your date and he had a surprise for you.

Maybe the surprise was real, they always were, but the relationship was not.

Now, as you held the Prowler suit in your hands, you realized everything, every missed date, call, text and every time you asked what he did for work, was a lie.

You had watched the Prowler hurt, steal and once even kill, maybe more when you didn't see. Miles knew you didn't like the Prowler,

Only now do you remember the look in his eye, on his face and how he grew rigid whenever he came up on TV, or every time you said something.

You could snap out of your stare at the suit, barely when you heard his footsteps, the door on turn and open with a click.

You could feel his stare, imagining the smile that always was on his face when he looked at you.

Now you could barely stomach turning to look at him.

"Oye, llegaste antes, amor." Miles said, his smile small as you could hear him chuckle on his breath, walking closer.

Your back was to him before you finally turned around, barely able to look at him through your own anger.

"Care to explain what this is?" You barely let him get close, holding up the Prowler suit.

Miles stared at you confused for a moment, looking at the suit before it finally dawned on him.

You knew.

The one thing he needed you to never know.

You knew.

"Were you looking through my shit?" Miles asked, scoffing in his own anger as you returned it with a scowl.

"Well, you're the one who left it lying on the floor like a dumbass!" You put it nicely, tossing the costume into his chest as he caught it, staring down at it for a second.

"You're the goddamn Prowler?" You could barely mutter, staring at who you once thought was a loving boyfriend, but now someone you barely know.

"(Name)- I had to." Miles tried to explain, losing his words for once, losing every preparation he had in case this happened.

Because it wasn't supposed to happen.

"You had to do what?" You scoffed, looking at him with something he had never seen towards him, anger and maybe disgust.

"Become some criminal in the goddamn night? The hell are you? Batman?!" You said, throwing your hands up as Miles rolled his eyes.

"I do it to protect you, my mom, Uncle Aaron! It's how I get money for us all!" Miles tried to justify.

"You think that's how it's supposed to go?! Miles, if you're the Prowler, that means everytime someone on TV got hurt, robbed or even killed, was you!" You exclaimed, barely holding yourself through it all.

"Yeah, I think it is! It's how life is, ma! I do what I have to do! And I didn't see you complaining about the money that I got from it when I got you shit."

You laughed humorously at his words, sarcastically clapping your hands in fake praise.

"Wow! Great job, Miles! You won this whole thing!" You gave a fake smile, watching as his face contorted into annoyance.

"I never told you to buy me shit. I told you to stop buying me stuff because it made me feel guilty about all the money you were spending." You explained thoroughly, Miles crossing his arms over his chest.

"I spent it because I care about you, I wanted to show that! Being the Prowler makes that happen." Miles said, watching as you sighed.

"Being the Prowler, makes you a criminal. I love you, yeah, but I've watched you, under that mask," You pointed to the very mask in his hands.

"Choke a man in front of me, in front of his kid, in a robbery you knew affected me. I know that man, his kid I babysat, and I watched you choke him to death."

You said, tears filling your eyes out of anger as Miles couldn't help but look down in almost shame.

"You held me when I cried after I got back from his funeral. You bought me dinner and you bought me a gift after that to 'make me feel better'." You said, your voice choked.

"Did you buy that crap with the money you got from killing him?" You asked, quietly as you waited for an answer.

Miles couldn't lie, so he nodded.

You could feel your heart almost cracking in two. The feeling in your chest is ever-lasting.

You nodded, looking away from him and around his room, every night you spent here was spent in his arms, the arms that you thought were safe, maybe for you, but not to others he harmed, and that was what scared you.

If he could do it to them, what about you?

"...I can't do this." You muttered, shaking your head as you wiped your tears, refusing to cry because of him, walking quickly to brush past him.

Miles finally could look up, barely able to look at you as you reached for the handle, quickly grabbing your hand to keep you with him.

"(Name), no-" Miles tried, not wanting you to walk out that door and possibly leave him for good.

You tugged your hand away from Miles, only turning to look at him with your hand still on the handle, never wavering.

"So, that's just- that's just it? Does this mean it's over, or what? Is it permanent?" Miles barely got out, not wanting to accept it.

Miles didn't want to be left alone, he was alone after his dad died, you helped just by being around him.

But you were walking out the door, out on him.

And he didn't know if he could get you back when you did.

He just knew it was happening, and he didn't want to accept it.

You barely were able to look at Miles, feeling something bubbling up your throat, your eyes refusing to cry but watered.

You could barely talk, but you needed to. You needed to get out and away.

Even if it meant forever.

"...I don't know, Miles." You admitted, Miles staring into your eyes with his own heartbreak, wanting to desperately keep you with him like once before.

But now, Miles was forced to watch as you turned away, opening the door quickly, almost running out and down the hall.

Miles didn't move from where he stood, hearing the apartment door open, never wavering as it shut.

Miles didn't move for a long time. He was almost scared too. Something he hadn't been in a while.

He held his Prowler suit in his hands, once thinking of it as a means of protection for everyone he loved, but now resentment and something that kept what could've been.

Miles stayed there for who knows how long.

Because if he moved, he would need to look around and see you were gone.

And he didn't want to accept that you were gone.

[pickingupmymercedes]

congrats on 500 followers!!! Could you do a blurb with like theyre staying with his family and its all just comfort and fun maybe she’s pregnant, and could you do like for dialouge:

“It feels like a dream. And I never want to wake up.” like shes happy and got everything she wanted

Omggg, my heart exploded with this one. Someone give this man a child (I'm open)

"If feels like a dream. And I never want to wake up"

The shadows of the crackling fire cast danced on the walls of the cozy and empty living room. Y/N sat curled up on the sofa, her daughter nestled in the crook of her arm as she tried to get the toddler to sleep, but the little girl, wide-eyed and alert, seemed mesmerized by the activities and noise around her grandmother’s house.

It was Christmas Eve, and Lewis’s family got everything ready for their famous Christmas lunch.

Carmen, Lewis's mother, emerged from the kitchen, a steaming mug in her hand. Spotting Y/N, she smiled warmly. "You look like you could use a cup of tea," she said, handing her the drink

Y/N accepted gratefully, wrapping her free hand around it for warmth. "Thank you" she replied, her voice low but soft.

Carmen sat down beside her, her eyes filled with a gentle warmth. "She's growing up so fast," she said, her voice revealing the wonder she always held at her granddaughter.

Y/N nodded; her gaze fixing back on her daughter. "It feels like just yesterday she was this tiny little thing."

Carmen chuckled. "Time flies when you have them."

Y/N smiled; her heart full as she studied the other kids, almost pre-teens by now, excitedly talking to each other in the kitchen and the family room.

Lewis and their daughter had spent the whole with them. Willow and Kaden carefully dotting around the toddler and making sure they told her every little detail of their Christmas traditions.

Carmen had also spent their day watching the little girl, her interactions with Lewis, with Y/n, with her ants and uncles. She had wondered if it’d ever happen to Lewis, the possibility of him settling down, finding someone who could truly make him happy. Give him the family he always dreamed of.

And then Y/N had come into his life, and everything changed.

"You're doing an amazing job, you know" Carmen said, her voice filled with admiration.

Y/N blushed. "It's not that much work" she replied modestly. "They’re really easy to love."

Carmen shook her head. "It's more than that. You've created such a beautiful home for Lewis and this little one. You've given him a family, something he wondered if he’d have."

Y/N's gave a shy and small smile to the elder. "I love him, Carmen," she said softly. "More than words can say. And this one… she's the greatest gift I could ever ask for."

Carmen reached out and took Y/N's hand, squeezing it gently. "I know," she said. "And I'm so grateful to have you both in my life."

Y/N looked down at her daughter, who was now fighting hard her sleep, her tiny head resting on Y/N's shoulder.

"It feels like a dream," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I never want to wake up."

Carmen smiled, her eyes glistening as she saw Lewis standing by the threshold watching the scene in front of him. "Me neither, dear," she replied to the both of them. "Me neither."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123 @strqirlhrts

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello friend I was wondering if you could do one more of Hope baby sister we’re Y/n is sick and wake up in the night crying because she is so sick that there parents and uncles are ants found men Y/n sleeping in the chest of Hope

Big Sister's Here

Baby Mikaelson sister reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none, it's all fluffy

A/n: I'm becoming obsessed with writing baby Mikaelson y/n and big sister Hope

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rustle around in your crib, you feel weird and don't know why your tummy hurts so much. Tears start falling your cheeks.

Hope stirs awake, hearing crying. It takes her a moment before realizing it's coming from your room, next to hers. Not hearing anyone else, she gets out of her bed and walks over to your room.

She turns the light on, only to see you laid on your back, arms stretched above your head, and tears running down your face. She leans down and picks you up.

As soon as you're in your sister's arms, you nuzzle your head into her shoulder. Your cries lighten, but only by a little. Your tummy is still hurting and you don't know how to tell your big sister.

Hope bounces you lightly in her arms as she walks back into her room. All the adults are obviously asleep and she doesn't want to wake any of them just to ask what to do.

"It's okay. What's wrong?" She softly starts to soothe you. As she runs her vacant hand in circles on your tiny back, you let out tiny hiccups from the crying.

"Did you have a bad dream?...no" Hope talks to you, but really herself since you can only say a few words. If you were to have a bad dream then it would have been small screams that would've woken her up and not just crying.

"Does something hurt?" you perk up at the word hurt. "Oh, what hurts, y/n/n?" she asks softly, hoping that you can give her at least a clue to the answer.

"You can show or tell me, don't worry nothing bad is going to happen, you're safe with me, you're safe with your big sister" She sits down on her bed. The only light source in the room right now is the lamp on her nightstand.

You're sat in Hope's lap, one of her hands supporting your back so you don't fall backward. Trying to think the best you can, being one years old and all, you bring your small, pudgy hand up to your big sister's tummy. You tap it multiple times.

Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. "That's my stomach, yes," She says gently.

You then bring your hand back to your own tummy and tap it really lightly, not wanting to make it hurt more. "H-hu..h-hur'...hur'" you try to say.

Hope's eyes widen, realizing what you're trying to tell her. "Oh, your tummy hurts. I'm sorry I couldn't figure that out, sweetheart" She kisses the top of your head.

Is there any medicine she can give you? she thinks. She knows she has some Advil pills for when she's on her period, but she can't give those to you.

"It's going to be okay, your tummy is going to feel better in the morning, I promise, hunny' She lightly presses her hand against your stomach and starts chanting a spell to take any pain away from your stomach. She hopes this will work, she hates to see you in pain.

"You're going to feel all better" Hope finishes the spell. "I think it's time for us to go back to sleep" Your eyes widen at what she says about going to sleep. You immediately cling to her, not wanting to go back into your room and in your crib alone.

"Aw, you want to sleep with me?" She smiles, loving how cute and cuddly you're being. "'ope" you nod your head, snuggling into her warm chest.

"Of course, baby girl." She turns the lamp off before laying back underneath the blankets. You stay attached to her the entire time.

A few minutes later your breathing evens as you doze off. Hope's arms are protectively wrapped around your tiny frame. She follows not so long later into sleep.

"Klaus, do you know where y/n is?" Hayley walks into the library.

"Isn't she in her crib?" Klaus looks over to her. "No, she isn't, and I can't find her anywhere," Hayley says, voice getting distressed.

"Maybe she climbed out and is roaming the city like Batman" Kol smiles from where he's upside down on the couch. His smile disappears quickly when Hayley glares at him with her, mama wolf look.

"So, no one knows where she is?" Klaus stands up from his seat. "She can't be far, it's not like she can crawl yet, right?" Freya walks into the room, having heard everything.

"No, but it doesn't mean something can't happen," Elijah tells their older sister.

"Before all of you blow this out of proportion, have any of you checked Hope's room?" Rebekah raises an eyebrow at her older siblings.

She sighs before leaving the library, walking down the hall to Hope's room, everyone following close behind. She turns the doorknob quietly and walks into the room, along with the others.

They all pause, taking in the sight of you curled up on Hope's chest. You both are sleeping away, oblivious to the crowd gathered at the door.

That is until Hope's eyes open, feeling the other presence in her room. "What are you guys doing?" She asks, tiredly.

"We were worried when we couldn't find your sister in her crib," Klaus tells her, walking over to the bed.

"Oh, yeah, her tummy was hurting, so I took away the pain and then we went back to sleep," she tells them quietly, not wanting to wake you. "And you didn't want to put her back in her crib?" Hayley asks.

"Hey! She didn't want to go back to her room anyway...I just didn't put up a fight" Hope exclaims.

Kol chuckles at her statement, "Shut up" she whines, turning her head back into her pillow, not wanting to explain anything else to them.

Hayley reaches down, about to bring you into her arms. "No," Hope whispers, keeping you clutched to her. Hayley raises an amused eyebrow. "Let us sleep" she tries shooing her family away, which works with all of them except for your guys' parents.

Klaus and Hayley each lay down on either side of you and Hope. Thats how you guys spend your morning until you wake up and manage to also get Hope out of bed. Which surprises your parents greatly on how much of an effect you have on your older sister.

"You're lucky you're cute" She mumbles, begrudgingly picking clothing out of her dresser with you placed on her hip, protectively.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

When What We Had was Everything Pt. 1

This is a three part fic series and will complete three of my @jacklesversebingo card spaces. This first part will fill the "You won't take care of yourself, so I will." square. Pt. 2 will fill the But We Lost It square. Pt. 3 will fill the They're Out of Time square. ❤️

Summary: When Y/N really needs him, Jensen steps up, leaving all their past in the past. Can Y/N possibly do the same?

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: None in this chapter. Brief talk of grief and loss. Extremely stressed reader. Smidge of angst.

Word Count: 4,051

A/N: I hope you enjoy this short fic series. Just three parts. This first part also fulfills a request from the lovely dove anon.

I keep hearing the TikTok audio that’s like “you came?” “You called.” could you write a jensen fic maybe related to it? I feel like it would be sooo wholesome and so cute I’m obsessed with the thought!!

I hope it's what you were looking for sweetie.

Part 2 will be out next week. Probably, Wednesday the 23rd. And Part 3 should be out on Wednesday the 30th. Let me know what you think of this first part. ❤️

Series Master List || Jensen Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Y/N felt the pain throb behind her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose as her little sister’s husband pouted. 

“I thought this was good.” He whined, pointing to the tuxedo hanging from the hanger in his hand. 

The tuxedo was four sizes too small for her father; it had a white, lacy, ruffled shirt to go with it, and it was black. It wasn’t even close to what she’d asked him to find. But she took a deep breath and tried for kindness. 

“No, Jason, it’s great. But Dad was pretty specific about what…” Y/N swallowed. “He was specific about what he wanted to be buried in, he wrote it all out for us. He said he wanted a suit like the one he wore when he and mom got married. You know, dark blue, plain white shirt, and…” She didn’t bother to mention the size wasn’t even close.

She lifted a hand towards him. “Don’t...do you still have the reference picture I gave you?”

Jason pulled the small square picture out of his pocket and looked at it before showing it to Y/N. “Yeah, that’s what I got him. Basically. I mean, I’m not gonna be able to get his exact same suit.”

Y/N felt the scream bubble up in her lungs, the scream that had been building inside of her for days, and she was seconds away from letting it loose on her useless brother-in-law. Instead she snatched the picture away from him.

“It’s fine.” She said and she knew her voice was too sharp, so she tempered it with a smile and tried again. “It’s fine. Thanks, I’ll just. I’ll find something. I appreciate your help.”

Jason did everything but roll his eyes as he huffed away and tossed the tuxedo across a beautifully upholstered chair in the wide, spacious living room.

The last few days had made Y/N more grateful than ever that her parents had been blessed enough to afford the large house that she and her brother and sister had grown up in. As it stood, they had twelve cousins, three aunts, four uncles, and two of her dads colleagues from Europe staying in the house. Even for a home as big and accommodating as theirs, the house was bursting at the seams. 

Which reminded her that she still had to figure out something for supper for everyone. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called the local pizza place to order a bunch of pizzas and salads. Their small town still didn’t have grub hub available, so Ant’s Pizza and Italian Food would have to do.

As she was placing the order, her little brother, David, came bounding through the back door, his energy and massive smile was at odds with the slightly solemn atmosphere of the house. But she knew it was just how he dealt, lots of denial, and a fair amount of weed. 

She caught his eye as he headed towards the basement where he and two younger cousins were bunking together. She waved him over and spoke briefly into the phone.

“Can you give me just a sec. Thanks.” She moved the phone away from her mouth and spoke quietly to her brother. “Davie, you have to leave in less than an hour to pick Auntie Sheila up at the airport. Are you still good to do that?”

David sucked air through his teeth. “Ooh, I definitely think I’m too high to drive.”

“David.” Y/N admonished, the scream building in her chest once again. “I told you yesterday I’d need you to grab her. You couldn’t stay sober for -”

He cut her off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, so sorry I messed up, Y/N/N. I guess my dad just died so I’m a little bummed, and decided to try and chill a bit.” He waved a hand to encompass the house. “There’s like a million fucking people here, no one else can do it?”

He stomped off with the cousins and Y/N watched him leave before whispering, “Yeah, funnily enough my dad died too.”

“What was that?” The woman on the other end of the phone sounded a bit annoyed to be kept waiting.

“Sorry.” Y/N said quickly, continuing on with the order. 

She hung up and pulled up her list of things that had to be done before the funeral the next day. They still had to send over the list of songs her dad had wanted them to play at the ceremony and the funeral home had sent her an email with the layout of the funeral program and needed her okay on it, But they’d misspelled her mom’s name in the small obituary that graced the back page.

"Stephen was predeceased by his loving wife of thirty-two years, Martha (nee Layland)", the program read. 

Her mother’s name was Marcia. She needed to get back to them about that right away, before they printed them out and her father was forever linked to some random woman named Martha. 

She pulled up the email and was typing a response while she stood in the hallway. She was sort of existing in limbo, not willing to commit to sitting in any one room, because inevitably as soon as she sat down, something would crop up and need her attention in another room. So, for two days she’d barely sat down, barely eaten, and was going on a total of about five hours of sleep.

As she shifted from foot to foot, writing the email, her little sister came around the corner and her face was annoyed. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked.

Tears came to Josie’s eyes and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Jason says you were really rude to him about Dad’s suit. I don’t think that was called for. I mean, he was trying to help; he was doing us a favor by going to get it. He says you told him he screwed up. That really upset him.”

Y/N stopped writing and closed her phone. “Jo, Dad wanted a suit like the blue one he wore when he and mom got married, remember?” 

Josie nodded and shrugged. “Yeah.” 

“Well, Jason got a black tuxedo, with some kind of weird ruffled shirt.”

She pointed to the tux draped over the chair and Josie went over to pick it up. Her nose scrunched up and she dashed away her tears. 

“Oh.” Then she shook her head. “What the hell, this thing is way too small for him.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, that too.” 

“Ugh!” Josie dropped the tuxedo like it was filthy. “K, sorry, Y/N/N. I’ll go yell at him.”

Y/N grabbed her sister's arm. “No, sweetie. Don’t do that. I don’t want you to upset him. It was nice of him to try.” 

I also don’t need the added drama of you and your little boy spouse yelling and fighting. Y/N thought. 

But she gave Josie a kiss on the forehead and brushed her fingers through her hair, like she used to when they were kids and her baby sister would get in trouble. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll go find something else in a bit.”

Josie nodded and sniffled. “I still can’t believe this is happening, you know. I mean, I guess that’s stupid since he’s been sick so long, but…I don’t know, it just still feels sudden. I don’t know how that’s possible.”

Y/N pushed down her own tears to wipe away her little sister’s as they fell. “I know Joey.” She said, slipping into the childhood nickname that Josie had forced her to stop using in Junior High. “No matter what, he was here and then he was gone, and that will always feel sudden, I think.”

Y/N pulled her into a tight hug. “But him and mom are together again, tearing up heaven, I bet.”

Josie laughed softly through her tears. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She sighed and pulled away, wiping her tears. “Yeah, they always said they were a match made in heaven, so I’m sure they rule the place already.”

The sisters chuckled together, as their fond memories mingled together and brought them each a moment of peace. Josie shattered it for Y/N by raising a curious eyebrow.

“So…speaking of a match made in heaven, any word back from Jensen?”

Y/N felt her stomach plummet and she shook her head quickly. “No, I couldn’t reach him. I left a message, but I know he’s shooting in Australia. So, he’s literally on the other side of the world. He won’t be able to make it.” 

She shook her head again, angry at herself this time. “It was stupid to call him anyway. I haven’t spoken to him for months, since before Dad even got sick. It was so friggin dumb to call and leave a voicemail being like, ‘Hey, my dad died.’ Ugh!” 

Josie gave her a sympathetic look. “No, you were right to let him know at least. He and Dad got along great when you guys were together, so I'm sure he’d wanna know. And who knows, maybe he’ll call you back at least.” 

Her gaze became calculating. “Which will give you the chance to tell him how stupid you were to let him go, and how much you still love him!”

“Uh uh.” Y/N replied  sharply. “That’s not happening, Jo. I can not think about anything like that right now.” 

The last thing she needed was for her ongoing Jensen heartache and the heartbreak from the loss of her father, to combine and completely debilitate her.

Josie looked like she was going to continue, but something in Y/N’s expression seemed to change her mind. Instead, she just shrugged and turned to leave.

“K, whatever you say. I’m starving. I need food.”

Y/N smiled, ignoring her own growling stomach. “Okay, I’m off to return the tuxedo and find something else.”  

Josie nodded and gave her a thumbs up. Y/N grabbed the tuxedo from the chair and made a mental note to text her aunt and tell her to take a cab from the airport, and she’d reimburse her. She could do that and finish the email in the car.

Y/N felt the scream growing in her chest once again as she faced the salesperson in the third store she’d been to. 

The tuxedo was still in the trunk of her car, because she’d forgotten to get the receipt from Jason, so that would have to be a task for another day. Right now she was simply trying to find a suit that fit her father’s last wishes.

She tamped down her frustrations and smiled at the young guy in front of her. “Okay, so you don’t have anything in a navy suit in that size, but do you have anything that looks anything like this?” She lifted the picture again for him to see.

He just lifted a careless shoulder. “No, it’s just what we’ve got out on the floor.”

Y/N felt her voice cracking as she spoke. “Okay, you have another location across town, right? Is there any chance they have something like it?”

“I dunno.” The guy said unhelpfully.

Y/N knew her smile was starting to look like a grimace and she tried to change that before asking. “Would it be at all possible for you to check with them before I drive all the way over there?”

“K, yeah, hang on.” The guy sighed deeply and walked towards the back, presumably to make the call.

When he was out of sight Y/N began to suck in deep breaths and force her smile back onto her face. After a moment of practice she felt like she was managing it, when she heard someone set off the door chime as they walked in.

She turned to look and her jaw dropped. Jensen stood just inside the door and he smiled at her; his voice was soft.

“Hey baby.”

“Jensen.” Y/N whispered. It felt like she was hyperventilating as she spoke, completely out of breath. 

“You came.” She said with wonder.

“You called.” He responded with a gentle smile and a shrug.

She blinked rapidly, desperate to keep her tears at bay. But Jensen walked up to her and tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 

It was as though he’d pressed some sort of release valve and she was suddenly absolutely incapable of holding back her tears. They flooded her, and noisy sobs left her mouth; she had no way to stop them.

Jensen pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He said softly as he rocked her slightly in his arms.

She felt as though the scream that had been building for days, was slowly leaking out of her through her tears; she quickly soaked Jensen’s sweater. All the while, he just held her, making soothing noises and kissing the top of her head and her temple, letting her cry as long as she wanted.

As her tears began to dry up, she heard the sales guy come back through the door. “So, the other store says they don’t -” There was a brief pause and Y/N turned away from Jensen’s chest in time to see the guy’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“Holy shit!” He said, exploding with excitement, his skinny body practically vibrating. “You’re Soldier Boy. I got Soldier Boy in the friggin store!”

Jensen pulled Y/N into his side, tucking her safely under his left arm and reaching out to shake the guy’s hand with his right.

“Hi, nice to meet you. What’s your name?” 

“H-Howie. I’m Howie.” He said, tripping over his words a bit.

Howie pulled his phone out of his pocket and raised it in front of him to snap a selfie that would include all three of them. Y/N turned her face into Jensen’s shoulder to avoid the camera. Jensen reached out and grabbed the phone away before Howie could snap the picture.

He handed it back with a smile. “Sorry Howie, but my friend here is going through a very rough time right now and I don’t think she’s in the mood for selfies.”

Howie frowned. “So, she doesn’t have to be in it.”

Y/N tried to pull away so she wasn’t in the picture, but Jensen tightened his grip and kept her flush against his side. 

“No, I think she’s gonna stay right here. Do you have the suit she needs?”

Howie’s face was scrunched up into annoyance. “No.”

“Okay, thanks then.” Jensen said and headed for the door.

“Wow, you’re an asshole!” Howie shouted at him as they walked out the door.

As they stepped out onto the sidewalk Y/N shook her head. “Jensen, you could have just taken the picture, I would have stepped away from you.”

Jensen shook his head. “N’ah, I wanted to keep you next to me.”

Y/N looked up at him, still processing the fact that he was actually here. “Jensen, I can’t believe you came all the way from Australia. And you’re working, can you really afford the time away? And how did you know where to find me?”

Jensen waved dismissively. “I went to your parents' house, and Josie said you were out trying to get a suit for your Dad.” He shrugged. “There are only so many suit shops in this town, just so happens I found you in the second place I went.”

He smiled and shook his head. “As for work and the rest of it, don’t worry about that, it doesn’t matter.” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

Y/N shrugged. “Mostly okay, I guess. I mean, Dad was pretty sick for the last three months, and the doctors were never hopeful.” 

She looked up at him guiltily. “Sorry I didn’t call you sooner. But I didn’t know if…I mean just, you know the way things…the way we left things, I didn’t know if…”

Jensen’s eyes were slightly shadowed, as he ducked his head and nodded. “No, I get it. But we don’t have to uh, we don’t need to talk about that right now. It’s not what’s important.” He straightened up and took a deep breath, and then smiled. “You need a suit for your Dad right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, he wanted it to look like this one.” She pulled the picture out of her purse and showed it to him. “But at this point, I’ll be happy to find any suit that will fit. You know, not a small guy, my dad.” She said with a fond smile.

“No, he sure wasn’t.” Jensen said with a smile. “Scared the shit outta me the first time I met him. But it was clear pretty quick that he was just a giant softy.” 

“Yeah.” Y/N agreed with another tear falling which she dashed away quickly.

Jensen pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the old wedding photo and then dialed a number. 

“Hang on.” He said, raising one finger as he stepped away. He spoke quietly with someone for a minute or two before returning to her side as he hung up.

“Okay, that’s done. I’ve got a friend who can get a suit just like that one.” He said, tapping the picture that Y/N still held. “I gave her your dad’s suit size, a 52" long, right?” 

Y/N nodded and he continued. “Also the name of the funeral home. She’s gonna coordinate with them, and the suit will be there first thing tomorrow morning.” 

He tucked his phone back into his pocket. “What’s next?”

Y/N shook her head, protesting. “No, Jensen, I’m sure you didn’t fly halfway across the world just to run errands.”

Jensen leveled a look directly at her. “Y/N, that is exactly why I flew here. Cause I know you.” He cupped her cheek gently. “I knew you’d be running around taking care of everything and everyone else, and forget about what YOU need.” 

He shrugged. “You won’t take care of yourself, so I will.” His gaze was warm and it made Y/N think of how it felt to come in from the cold and feel warm and safe. He smiled. “So, what’s next?”

By the time the pizzas showed up at six thirty that evening, everything was finished. All the errands and chores on her to-do list had been crossed off. Thanks to Jensen. 

He’d stepped in and taken over most of the list, consulting with her when he needed to, but mostly allowing her to just walk alongside him quietly as he got everything done.

It had caused a minor hullabaloo among her cousins when she showed up at the door with Dean Winchester in tow. They all knew she’d dated Jensen, but most of them had never gotten the chance to meet him. 

But Josie had come through and mercifully saved them all from embarrassment by shooing away the cousins and giving Jensen a kiss on the cheek.

“Told Y/N you'd come.” She said with a side glance at her sister that said, “I told you so.”

Eventually everyone found a spot to sit and eat their pizza, either in the kitchen, dining room or living room. Conversations tended to center around her dad, funny stories, or heartwarming ones, and she was happy everyone was celebrating him exactly the way he would have wanted.

A few hours later, as people began thinking about bed, Y/N came back into the dining room where Jensen was sitting, and saw him frowning at his phone. His face cleared as she approached him.

“What’s up?” She asked.

He shook his head. “Oh, nothing.” Y/N gave him a look that said she could wait all night for the real answer and he laughed. “I was just trying to book a room, but it seems as though your one hotel and two bed and breakfasts are all full.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, sorry. Ordinarily there’s not a whole lot of tourism in town. But right now, I think most of the rooms have been taken by people here for the funeral.” She shrugged and smiled. “Dad was well loved.”

Jensen reached out to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, he was.”

Y/N felt the warmth from his fingers travel up her arm and tingle across her skin. It was a pleasant feeling that she knew all too well, a kind of anticipation that always led to something more between them.

Jensen seemed to sense it too because he dropped her hand and stood up. He cleared his throat. “It’s no big deal. I can just drive into Kingston and find a room there.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, that's an hour and a half drive each way. Why waste the time? Just…just stay here. We’ve got room.”

Jensen gave an awkward chuckle and looked around the rooms packed with people. “Where? Under the porch?”

Y/N gave him a teasing smile. “Well, you scoff, but the raccoons gave it a very solid four stars.” They stood awkwardly for a minute more before she shook her head. “Seriously, though, I’m sure we can find one more bed to stash you in.”

Jensen agreed reluctantly, but as it turned out, finding an open space was tougher than it seemed. All the rooms were very much at capacity, and so were the couches. There was floor space down in the basement with the cousins, but Y/N knew they’d stay up most of the night playing video games which wasn’t exactly conducive to Jensen's sleep.

Finally she just shook her head and gave in to the idea that made her stomach twist but also squeeze tight and fill with butterflies. She put on her most nonchalant voice. 

“You know what, this is dumb. Just stay in my room. It's just me in there right now, so I've got the space and you know. Not like we haven’t bunked together before, right?”

Y/N knew her choice of words was dumb. “Bunking” was not how she would describe her nights in bed with Jensen. Her mind was instantly filled with memories of him pressed tight against her body, the feel of him moving inside her, tracing his hands over every inch of her, making her burst to life with a mere flick of his tongue.

She thought maybe Jensen was experiencing the same memories, because his gaze was intense and heated before he snapped his head to the side, looking away from her. “That’s,” his voice was hoarse, “probably not…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Y/N nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her. Her cheeks flushed and she was quick to backtrack. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s a…you can just crash in the basement. The guys will be a bit noisy, but…just tell them to shut up if they get to be too much.” She forced a chuckle, and Jensen seemed to grab it like a lifeline, forcing a laugh too.

“Yeah, absolutely. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He clasped his hands together at waist height and rubbed his palms in circles, a tell that Y/N remembered meant that he was nervous. “I’ll just grab my bag from my car.” 

He pointed vaguely towards the outside and Y/N nodded. “Yeah, okay. Then you can just head down and make yourself at home.”

They stood awkwardly for a minute more and then he leaned down to kiss her cheek. It was only a peck, but his lips were so soft and lush that it still made Y/N’s heart flutter.

He pulled back with a warm smile and an emotion in his gaze that she couldn’t interpret. “K, goodnight.” He said softly.

Y/N smiled back and tried to make it natural. “Goodnight. And, uh, just thanks. I mean, for everything today.”

Jensen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

With a final squeeze to her hand he walked out to his car and Y/N practically ran up the stairs to her room.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

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[wraithdance]

Oathbound part 1/? | Resurrected!Johnny x Reader

CW: Mention of Reader's pregnancy, blood mention and general unsettling behavior. Nothing crazy happening just yet I just want to get myself in a spooky mood.

There’s something wrong with Johnny.

You watch him in the kitchen from behind the island, the granite slab a gift from your Uncle when he’d enthusiastically remodeled your kitchen for you and Johnny’s anniversary. You’re stirring cream into your tea slowly, the clink of the spoon against the glass mug tinkles in time with the words echoing in your mind like a rhythm.

‘There's something wrong with Johnny.’ 

Clink, clink, swirl.

‘There’s something wrong with Johnny.’

clink, clink, CLACK.

The spoon clatters into the sink. The spray of scalding tea dots your counter and fingers. You think of the black corpses of the sugar ants who’d found their way into your kitchen, gorging themselves on residue you’d forgotten to sweep away. Little bodies stuck in the sticky honey trap. A watery funeral beneath the faucet as you rang out the sponge that cleared the burial ground away.

As you slide and swipe a sponge across the tea droplets your mind compares it to the frantic scrubbing of blood off the smooth concrete floor of the garage. Same motions. but you’re numb this time.

Johnny’s back faces you as he stares out into the quiet morning. His scarred fingers are twitching on the windowsill, the movement is small, nearly imperceptible like the sound of a bird's wing. Yet, you can hear the tap-tap-taps sound off like a violent drum in the silent room. You think of the rust colored stains encrusted beneath his cracked nail beds as you burn your tongue on the first sip of bitter Earl gray.

Johnny had been back home for nearly a month. 

You’d cried for days when you’d gotten the call from Laswell that he’d been found alive. You’d been broken beyond repair at the news of his death, had been close to following him into the afterlife had Simon not made it his mission to keep you above water. Five months of bedridden, nearly catatonic. Five months of mourning and hallucinating the sound of his voice and gentle caresses. Five months of missed prenatal pills shoved down your throat by large hands of your husband’s best friend as you thrashed and screamed. Crying for your husband buried beneath the rubble while all you got was an empty fucking casket. Gone from you forever.

Until he wasn’t.

You think about the last time you saw Johnny as you coax him to the breakfast table to eat. Johnny flinches and stares at you with dull, flat eyes for something longer than a minute when you gently place a hand over his tapping fingers. This Johnny sits deathly still in the seat where you’d placed his breakfast. He doesn’t look up even when you slide your own chair out dragging the heavy wood across the floor with a dull screech. Johnny’s tapping shakes the table. You sip from your mug.

Yours.

Your Johnny, vibrato and braggadocio. Sun kissed skin and cadence like thunder. Smoke and endless fire. Yours. Alive.

But not the man you married. 

You think about the last time you recognized the person who kept you up at night. Listening for the creak of the backdoor or the feel of a body hovering over you as you pretended to sleep, the hilt of the butcher knife missing from the block in your kitchen cutting into your palms beneath your pillow. Heart hammering as your limbs locked up in fear at the sound of bones cracking like flint as you squeezed your eyelids tight.

The last time you recognized the man you married you stood listening to him brag about his near death six months prior to his real death- disappearance… 

Your palms had burned with the sting of your nails. The quiet hum of the hospital corridor and the tick of the analog clock across the hall were the symphony accompanying the emotion you couldn’t put a name to.

Molar grinding molar, Acrylic tipped nails meeting flesh. The tension radiating through your stiff limbs felt like the only thing keeping you upright.

“Aye LT yer lucky I took that bullet for ye, I expect ye to kiss the ground I walk on for my troubles!”

He laughed loudly even despite the lack of returned humor. You’d shifted.

Ghost had noticed you first in that watchful way of his. You’d felt the brush of his assessing gaze the second he spotted your taut form half hidden in the doorway. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you. Did his ears pick up the demons that brayed in your ears? The tongues that hissed the love of your life was a man dancing with death?

You looked at the entity Ghost (not Simon the man who’d drink tea with you and make comments on the state of your garden whenever he came over) wondering if the wraith could see how close you were to ruin.

“Och, There’s my Bonnie lass! C’me here give me a kiss, why’re ye standing in the door like that hen?”

You hadn’t moved from where you’d drifted when he called out for you to touch him. You’d taken up sentry at the foot of his bed, hands gripping the plastic railing tight enough to hurt. You couldn’t move.

You’d been too focused on the bandages that wrapped his torso tight. There’d been a spot of blood on the edges. Blooming like a flower.

You stared and stared, watching the spot grow larger. Your mind creating visions of crimson swallowing his torso. Swallowing you with it.

Johnny had made another joke about surviving death and you had snapped like a wire. You’d screamed and screamed. Until you cried and made him promise to come home to you.

Because ‘wherever you go I’m following. I don’t care if I have to beg the devil himself to make it happen. I'm going with you or you’re coming back to me.”

You’d meant it.

You watch Johnny now. His hulking form sitting at your table tearing into the blood sausage on his plate with clawed fingers. His eyes meet yours, they’re black down to the sclera. There’s no trace of the electric blue that had stopped you in your tracks on first meeting. That had cried when you’d told him he would be a father.

He smiles. There’s blood on his lips from where he’d bitten into his fingers.

“What’s wrong hen?”

There’s something wrong with Johnny. But he kept his promise to you.

You smile back, finishing your tea.

“Nothing baby, finish up your food.”

[hanibalistic]

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 3440

warning | brief mention of injuries / use of spanish phrases translated from the internet :( let me know if i'm wrong about anything! / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie 

note | not the proudest of my writing here. also, a disclaimer that the events in this fic will deviate from canon haha

parts | one, two, three, four

"Uncle Aaron, I think we forgot to get detergent."

"You forgot to get detergent. I didn't forget nothing."

Miles's shoulders slumped in distaste. His frown mirrored the quiet complaints he spilled out of his mouth as his fingers tugged at the grocery bags dangling on them. He must have been delirious to still forget an item written on a piece of paper and to think the word 'detergent' wasn't even crossed out on the grocery list his mother gave him. It wouldn't be too big of a deal, but he imagined his mother would be mumbling about it as she set the table for dinner. 

The doorknob fumbled a bit before the door swung open. The brightness in your eyes dimmed upon seeing Uncle Aaron's furrowed brows, which reminded you of the cautionary tale he kept retiring about being aware of opening doors to unknown knocks in case of danger. You still had difficulty getting used to a dangerous Brooklyn because yours was bright and sunny, and it had its very own Spiderman. Miles had laughed when you told him about your Brooklyn, asking if there was a ranking for crime fighting bug of the week; Spiderman today, something like Ant-man tomorrow?

“If I’d been a serial killer–“

“Which you are not,” you sang with vague cheerfulness as you tried to take the groceries from his hand. 

“Hence the question being hypothetical–“

“Miles! You’re home!”

“Mi vida.” It was not audible. He opened his arms habitually and let you dive into his embrace. “How’s your day? Did you glitch?” 

You perked up from where you buried your face in his shoulder and examined the bracelet permanently latched around your wrist. Gwen was the one who put the finishing touches on it, and she was so excited about the product that she came over in the middle of the night to hand it to you. It has been about two weeks since you began wearing it, and you have not glitched once. You told Miles it should be safe to conclude that the bracelet worked, but he always asked for good measures anyway. 

“I helped around the house, as always,” you replied. Fixing the bracelet, you felt a soft magnetic pull against the tips of your fingers that touched the metal. You let go of it and rested your chin on Miles’s shoulder, sighing in contentment at the mere solidity of his body. “I didn’t glitch.”

Knowing that he was not being paid attention to, Aaron decided against scolding you for cutting him off twice. Instead, he rolled his eyes and turned to the kitchen, where Rio was shifting through a stack of sealed envelopes. He placed the groceries on the square table in the middle of the kitchen and smacked his teeth, looking pointedly at Rio as he nudged his head toward the apartment door.

Rio didn’t have to look to know you two were stuck in each other’s arms by the door. She smiled, shifting through the letters carefully with a shake of her head. “He is happy, Aaron.”

“Happy enough to cut me off my sentence,” he scoffed before adding, “twice.”

“I’m sure they will apologize if you say something,” she mused. “Especially [Name]. They’re a good kid.”

Aaron’s eye twitched in dismay. Rio was right—you were a good kid. He couldn’t hate you enough to delude himself into believing otherwise, and of course, he didn’t actually hate you. Besides the apparent naivety he suspected came from living in a safe Brooklyn, nothing about you was blatantly dislikable. You were helpful, albeit not the brightest learner. You listened well, which could be a product of being in another’s hospitality. And, most importantly, you were Miles’s safe place. For the first time in years, Aaron could see his nephew find time to be the teenager he was supposed to be. You practically breathed life into him, which worried Aaron the most.

You were a second chance that Miles was unwilling to let go of, but whether you return to your Earth was not his decision. What would happen to him when you leave? You would destroy him. 

“I got the groceries, Mrs. Morales!”

Rio dropped the envelope in her hand and smiled upon your arrival. "Mi amorcito!" 

You tilted your head with a thoughtful grin after you put the grocery bag next to all the things Uncle Aaron had taken out of the one he was holding. When Rio flashed you a questioning look, you shrugged. "Miles called me that before. I didn't know what it meant."

A choked-out cough sounded from behind all three of you, and standing by the kitchen sink was Miles, gripping the edge of the sink and coughing out the water that ran down the wrong pipe. Rio covered her teasing smile with a hand, but her shoulder moved to the gentle beats of her lighthearted chuckles. Aaron stared at his panicking nephew, a tinge of judgemental pity laced in his eyes. 

Slamming his fist to his chest, Miles swung around to glare between the three of you before his eyes landed on your curious face. “What are you talkin’ about?”

"When did he say that to you?" Rio asked. 

You rolled your eyes skyward. If you remember correctly, it was during the first few glitch attacks when you would break down from the sheer pressure of it. He had encouraged you to sleep with him on those nights, and you gladly accepted the offer. It was during one of those tearful nights, you believed. He had whispered it when he thought you were asleep, with teary hiccups still occupying your body's consciousness, and you remembered he had been stroking your hair to lull you to sleep. Everything about him was tender during those nights—his touch, voice, and presence. Unbeknownst to you, its cause was that he physically could not muster any energy when you suffered. 

"He must have thought I was sleeping," you said, then you looked sheepishly at Miles, who returned it with a sneer. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”

“Clearly,” he muttered. 

"I didn't take you for someone who would sneak into people's rooms when they're sleeping?" Aaron chimed in. 

“I didn’t!” Miles groaned in embarrassment. “They cry like hell whenever they glitch. What was I supposed to do?”

“I did cry like hell when I glitched,” you said in agreement as you turned around from the kitchen cabinet where you were stocking the cleaning supplies. “I was the one who looked for him, actually. I couldn’t fall asleep alone. The glitching was terrible.”

Aaron’s eyes darted between you both. Miles reached out for you, his arm moved boldly, but the tip of his finger that touched your shoulder to get your attention was timid and boyish. He exhaled when you smiled at him, and the faintest smirk only you could discern to be a curve of contentment grew on his face as you walked near him. You scrunched your nose into a tight-lipped smile when he muttered something only you could hear, likely giving an unnecessary explanation for his comment on you crying like hell. 

The rate you two could engage in your own world was almost admirable if Aaron wasn’t so cautious of Miles’s growing feelings for you. But watching as you two helped each other stock the kitchen cabinets, shoulders brushing and shoving playfully, he knew he couldn't do anything. 

"We forgot to get detergent."

Rio gasped. She glanced at the washing machine filled with dirty clothes waiting to be cleaned, one of which included her work uniform, and she sighed. She would have to wear the one she did on her last shift. “I guess I’ll make a run to the store after my shift ends,” she mumbled with a thoughtful hum. “Or I can do it later on the way to the bank. I needed to deposit something.”

“The bank closes at six,” Aaron said questioningly.

“They have a drop-off box that opens through the night. It’s super convenient,” she clarified with a finger snap. “I’ll just stop by briefly before my shift starts. I might forget tomorrow.”

“Your shift starts at twelve, right?”

“Yeah,” Rio nodded, “overnight.”

“You gonna eat dinner with us?”

“I will,” she nudged her head toward where you and Miles were bickering about the washed dishes, “if those two would step away from the stove so I can cook something!”

The two of you froze up at Rio’s demanding tone. Quickly organizing the knickknacks on the dish rack next to the stove, not forgetting to scoff at each other about storing the utensils, Miles ushered you out of the kitchen with his hands clamped over your shoulders. Uncle Aaron watched your backs disappear into Miles’s room, and he saw your ridiculous faces trying to hold back from laughing at what he could only assume was an inside joke, as nothing was amusing about this situation. He gulped—he couldn’t do anything about Miles’s feelings for you.

The only thing more dangerous than a teenage boy in love is the person he is in love with. Taking you out of the picture would do nothing but bring Miles out of the canvas with you, leaving two vacant spots once close together. If you left, you would destroy him, but more importantly, he wouldn't hesitate to follow you everywhere. If you jumped the universe, he would jump the universe. If you got stranded in purgatory, he would strand himself in limbo. If you went to Hell, he would go to Hell because, at some point, it stopped being a biblical state of eternal torture. At some point, Hell is not a place; Hell is just where you are. And Miles would follow you there, always. 

You jolted up with the television screen flashing at your face. Even in your sleep, your body subconsciously remembered there was something you need to do. Before Rio left for her shift, which was just a little after Miles and Uncle Aaron left for the occasional hangout, she gave you a sealed envelope to deposit into the bank mailbox because you insisted that you were going to head outside for a short walk of fresh air anyway, so you might as well help you with this tiny task. Except you fell asleep on the couch after getting ready and woke up at one o’clock in the morning.

Scanning the quiet apartment, it was easy to tell nobody had returned home yet. Rio wouldn’t be home until early in the morning; Miles tended to get home around two to three o’clock when he was off with Uncle Aaron doing who knows what. Leaning your head against the couch cushion, you drew a mental map of the path to the bank before closing your eyes. If you jogged, a round trip would take you roughly fifteen to twenty minutes. Not a problem! 

Sliding off the couch, you reached into your crossbody bag that was big enough for a phone to feel for the envelope Rio gave you. It was still in there. You zipped the bag and patted it twice for safety, then fixed your jacket sleeves in preparation for the chilling night breeze. Turning off the television and the living room lights as the last step, you grabbed the house key lying in a bowl with some loose change and left the apartment. 

Keeping up a light jog was easy under this cold weather and the dark streets. You liked walking at night, but you were never outside this late. There were no cars or people, much unlike the bustling morning you preferred much more. Uncle Aaron’s cautionary tale repeated in your head and increased your speed through the empty pedestrian road. The more you stayed outdoors, the more you thought it a bad idea to be outside at this dead time. 

“What? What is–what?” you muttered as you moved your body about. 

Glaring at you was the metal deposit box enclosed in the bank walls. It took you a hot minute to find it because it was behind a wall off the side of the building where the ATMs were. You thought it was a terrible design choice only because you couldn’t find it immediately; it would not have been if you managed to. The second hurdle came when you realized the handle to the mailbox wouldn’t budge. 

“How do you open this?” you laughed as you gave the handle another pull. When the metal texture began hurting your skin, you let go to loosen your jacket sleeve until it reached your palm so you could use the thick fabric as a shield. This time, you put a leg up on the wall to use it as leverage. You pulled again. Nothing happened. Huffing in dissatisfaction, you pointed at the mailbox as if it could understand you. “You’re really–mhm!”

The swift kick to the wall could be heard. Miles perked up to where the soft rummaging noise came from and squinted his eyes behind the prowler mask. He scanned the area carefully, looking for any signs of people to find none. He remained tense even as he dropped the matter—gritted teeth and clenched jaw over a bank heist only a few days in planning. He has done this many times before. Maybe not robbing a bank specifically, but criminal activities were no longer a stranger to him as they were. He would even say he enjoyed it; he liked being strong, and it was a source of easy money. However, the main reason why he turned to a life of crime was to distract himself from the death of his father and you. Now that you were here to repaint a corner of his world with colors again, being a prowler was losing its appeal. 

"Miles."

He snapped out of his trance at his uncle's impatient voice screeching through the earpiece, and cleared his throat. "Sorry. What's up?"

"What's up?" His uncle sounded incredulous. "Are the bombs set up?"

"Oh–uh, yeah." He peeked out from behind the bush to check out the blinking red light he set up at the foot of the gate. "They're all set up."

"And you? You got your head in the clouds just then.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Aaron,” Miles clarified with the kind of grit that would have gotten him in trouble usually. He took a deep breath. “Let’s detonate them so we can move on from here.”

The other end shuffled and scratched; its noise muffled the careless footsteps behind the ATM wall.

“Detonation in three….”

You pouted when you shoved the envelope in your bag, still mumbling about not finding an opening to the night deposit box. It was a good enough reason to give Rio tomorrow when she returned home from the hospital; that metal handle would not budge!

“Two…”

Miles perked up at the familiar figure trailing slowly by the bank entrance where he set a bomb device. His ears did not deceive him when he thought he heard footsteps somewhere, and neither was Uncle Aaron wrong about his head being in the clouds! Nobody should be out to the bank at this forsaken time, but his surprising lack of attention made him miss the slow walker—he tilted his head—a slow walker wearing a jacket he remembered he also owned.

You blew raspberries as you patted your bag twice for safety measures. When you looked up, you met eyes with a figure in a purple suit. His stance seemed agitated, and Miles was. He cursed under his breath when he recognized your face, his legs already bringing him out from hiding. What were you doing here? You should be at home!

“One.”

“Uncle Aaron, no!”

The ground shook under your feet, but what made you lose your balance was the impact of the sudden explosions that came in three—bang, bang, bang! The bank building was collapsing, or perhaps it was only in the process of being destroyed? You didn’t get a chance to see clearly. You could hear the alarm bells, though. It wasn’t the wailing kind; it was the kind that rang non-stop. 

Meeting with the ground was not an extraordinary experience for you, but it felt worse than being pushed in this case. Face planting on marble tiles was mentally more endurable than outdoor brick floors. At least you thought that way for now. A groan left your lips as your brain was overloaded with sensations; you absorbed too much, from the alarm noises to the growing pains at the bottom of your body. You groggily looked to where it came from and saw glass shards sticking to your legs through the fabric of the pants. Great. Turning away from them, you noticed your bracelet scratching up tiny sparks, and you couldn’t bring yourself to wonder if you’d broken it.

“Oh no–shit! No, no, no, ¿por qué estás aquí?” Miles unmasked himself, showing his anxiously darting eyes. His hands hovered over your body indecisively, but he felt his fingers inching toward your face where blood trickled down the side of your skin. Miles needed to look through your hair for the source. Curling his arm under your neck, he lifted you to his chest. “Oh no, oh no. Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento–no quise hacerlo.“

You stirred upon his voice phasing in and out of your muffled hearing. Even with the migraine, you could recognize his voice. He was spilling words you didn’t understand, but some of the vocabulary you knew he had said to you before. Mi cariño, mi corazon…mi vida—he whispered that to you today when he came home from school. He probably didn’t think you heard, but you did. You exhaled, then an exhausted whimper pushed itself out of your mouth when the breathing hurt your throat.

He quickly regained his composure upon seeing a sign of life, immediately hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you to his chest, and leaping away from the falling debris. The sight of you bleeding and injured was all too familiar to him. But instead of letting the flashbacks stop him in his tracks, he planned to do something he couldn’t last time—saving you or at least trying to save you.

Returning to where he was hiding, away from the burning building, Miles scanned his surroundings. “Uncle Aaron! Uncle Aaron, help!”

“Miles!” Aaron emerged from the shadows. “We have to go now, we don’t have time–“ he stopped at the sight of you in Miles’s arms–“what happened?”

“They were here–I don’t know why! They’re not supposed to be out here at this time!” 

You remembered how he carried you, which seemed to always be bridal style. It wasn’t as if he did it all the time, though. His hand on your back felt much weirder, too, like he was digging claws into your skin to keep you in his arms. If your senses had gathered better, you would have teased him with the hope that he hadn't gotten tired of you joking about his feelings for you. Licking your dry lips, you rolled your head to meet his chest. It heaved with each word he hollered beyond the fire, the alarm bells, and the disagreement coming from his uncle. They were arguing about where to go. Miles clutched your body closer to him every now and then. He was hell-bent on bringing you to seek medical treatment, and his uncle was not.

“Gwen is waiting!”

“She would want me to help [Name]!”

“We triggered the alarms, so law enforcement will gather here!” Aaron argued. “The police can bring them to the hospital just fine! We need to stick to our plan!”

“[Name] is dead on record. We can’t just bring them to the hospital!” Miles said. “I’m taking them directly to mom.”

A foolish boy. “You’re gonna throw away everything we built.” It was more than just doing crimes, it seemed. There was a bond, a mutual trust built in the process that was on the verge of collapsing. “For that.”

Miles widened his eyes in disbelief. He had his doubts about the way his uncle felt about your existence. Still, he held out hope that the aloofness resulted from the great unknown of the multiverse and Aaron’s personality rather than that he thought your presence was a nuisance. Supposed he was wrong. The casual dehumanization was all he needed to decide how to proceed. Miles hopped a few steps back, his brows furrowing and his grip on your firm. 

“Tell Gwen I’m sorry.”

Aaron clicked his tongue. “Tell her yourself.”