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owl127 · 2 years

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Could you write alpha Clarke and omega Lexa struggle trying to conceive a baby?

read on Ao3

The blurred image focuses on a woman sitting down on the single chair in the frame. Behind her is a large window with sleek modern architecture reflecting on tinted glass. She clears her throat, pats her button-up shirt, and an accompanying thud follows her hand.

"You don’t need to touch it," a voice says from behind the camera. "Speak normally, and we get it."

A shade of pink takes over her cheeks under the set lights. She chuckles, tucking blonde hair behind an ear. On the lower left, captions appear: Clarke Griffin, patient #013, 40 years old. Female Alpha.

"Thank you for agreeing with the post-treatment documentation," says the same unnamed voice, a soprano woman. "As we said before, this will only be shared with other future patients."

Clarke nods. "You changed my life. I’m happy to help."

"Can you talk a little bit about how you felt when you were diagnosed?"

Clarke works her jaw back and forth, looking down at her polished shoes then up at the camera again.

"Well. Basically, it sucked."

0000

The punching bag moved back and forth with each new impact. Clarke’s knuckles ached and her wrist screamed, but she kept delivering punch after punch into the bright red canvas. Pain flared at her joints, and sweat ran down her back, but she needed it to keep her thoughts at bay.

Thoughts of how much of a useless alpha she was.

"Clarke?"

It was the second time Lexa came to check in on her. At first, it was an innocent call for dinner, but now Lexa’s voice had a layer of worry on it.

"Clarke."

Clarke didn’t stop the punching. Jab, lower, jab, jab. Her gloves burned with friction, but those jabs were the only thing keeping her from facing her incapacity to—

"I brought you coconut water," Lexa said from behind her. Clarke stopped, wiped sweat from her face, saw how useless that was since she was completely drenched, and shrugged.

"Thank you." She didn’t look Lexa in the eyes as she accepted the bottle, downing it in three long gulps. Dehydration. Just what her body needed, being this useless bag of meat and—

"Clarke." Lexa placed a hand on her shoulder, coaxing Clarke to face her. Lexa wasn’t angry, which infuriated Clarke more. Lexa should be furious, doing to her what Clarke was doing to that bag. But Lexa wasn’t pitiful, and for that, Clarke was grateful. She wouldn’t be able to deal with pity. "Come up, eat something. You’ve been here for hours."

Clarke took a deep breath and toyed with the lid of her bottle. "I needed… I needed to—"

Uncareful of her sweat, Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke. Warm, comforting. This was Lexa, her mate, her wife. The woman she promised the world to—and who she now failed to keep promises to.

"We’ll be alright," Lexa said into Clarke’s messy ponytail, nudging at the scar she left there years ago. "I get that you’re angry. But don’t blame yourself, my love. This new treatment is available, and—"

"We only need that because I’m a fucking failure," Clarke confessed, and Lexa’s hands on her skin tightened their grip.

"Don’t say things like that." She pulled back and guided Clarke to meet her eyes with a hand on her chin. "You’re my wife, and I love you. All of you. Don’t say things like that about yourself."

"It still doesn't change the fact that I'm a half-baked alpha."

"If I were the one with a complication, would you say those things to me?"

Clarke swallowed. "Of course not."

"So please don’t say that." Lexa kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"I’m sorry." Clarke thought the hours of punching and sweating would keep the tears away, but here they were, strong and ugly and burning just like her hands. "I’m so sorry that I can’t be the partner you need." Lexa held her. In the damp air of their basement, Lexa held Clarke and let her cry like the insolent pup she was.

"You’re exactly what I need," Lexa promised. "Nothing will change that."

Lexa was convinced. Clarke admired her for that. If only she could believe it.

0000

The image depicts a bright room with green plants in colorful pots framing the lonely chair in the center. The woman sitting on it is reading a paper, glasses low on her nose.

"Ready to roll, Mrs. Woods?" The soprano voice asks from behind the lenses. Lexa folds the paper, and a blur of a person picks it up from her hands. A similar inscription from before appears on the bottom left: Lexa Woods. Clarke Griffin’s mate and wife. 38 years old. Female Omega.

"Yes," Lexa says, folding her reading glasses and placing them in her front shirt pocket. "Whenever you’re ready."

"Have you ever dated another Alpha before meeting Clarke?"

Lexa’s facial expression does not change as she says, "No."

"When did either of you suspect something was wrong?"

Lexa sits straighter in the chair, her lips twitching twice before she finally says, "We were mated and married for six years when we tried to conceive." She pauses, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "We had never knotted before, so we had no idea what to expect. But eventually, we realized something was wrong."

"Was it a mutual realization?"

"Clarke noticed it first. But I don’t think she brought it up until it was unavoidable."

0000

Clarke never knew there was something wrong with her. She never really thought that she might be a little off until Liam. Anya had just started showing, complaining about Clarke's food and everything else.

"I didn’t know you were planning for a baby," Clarke said, hands soaked in bubbles. "But I’m really glad for you, Raven." They could hear their wives laughing from the dining room.

"Planning?" Raven snorted, shaking the kitchen towel to get another plate to dry. "That kid planned itself. That is, I really wasn’t planning to knot, but it happened, and well, in five months there will be a pup around. Get used to the idea."

Clarke frowned at the fork she was washing and watched the suds drip down the metal surface. "What do you mean you didn’t plan to knot?"

Raven placed a dry plate on the rack. "I was in rut. You know." She shrugged, and Clarke honest-to-god did not know.

"Do you always knot when you rut?"

"If I’m not super-extra-careful, yeah. Don’t you?" Raven asked in a laugh, but stopped at seeing whatever was going on with Clarke’s face. "Don’t you?" she repeated. Clarke felt her face warming.

She looked back at the fork. There was a stubborn piece of potato stuck to it.

0000

They talked about it. Extensively. They talked about costs, space, and time. But Clarke knew what the decision would be since the day Lexa had seen little Liam—all red-faced and crying his lungs out in Anya’s arms—and some maternal instinct sparked to life in her.

They wanted a baby.

The bed creaked with Clarke’s vigorous thrusts. Lexa met her push for push, her hips seeking Clarke’s in tandem. Lexa was not a passive omega; she took what she wanted, and Clarke loved her for that. She loved her mate, she loved her wife, and now she loved that they would make a new life together.

"Are you close?" Lexa panted in her ear.

Clarke nodded, her cheek hitting Lexa’s chin in the process. None cared. "Yeah. I think," she exhaled, slowing their movements to adjust her hips. Lexa moaned. "I’m not sure how long it takes," Clarke breathed, hoping her tone was steady.

"I have no idea." Lexa kissed her neck, licking the mating bite there. "It’s the first time we’re doing this." It should feel exciting. Lexa sounded excited. Clarke wasn’t sure.

Don’t you?

Sometimes she thought about Raven’s puzzled look when she admitted she had never knotted. But her friend had patted her on the back and said that each person was different. Clarke had never really tried to knot, so it was alright.

But right now, in rut, Clarke was actively trying, and Lexa had come twice, and they had changed positions twice as much, and Lexa would get sore, and Clarke could not get her damn knot to work.

"Come back to me." Lexa’s hands massaged the tight clench of Clarke’s jaw. They slowed until they stopped. Lexa sighed, but Clarke continued to pant. "What’s wrong, love?"

Clarke didn’t know. Or she did, and she did not want to voice it, because then it would be real, and Lexa would care, and they would have to go to doctors, and Clarke would be a failure as a wife.

"Clarke?" Puzzled, Lexa leaned back to find Clarke’s eyes, but Clarke avoided them. Clarke pulled out, their gasps mangling for a moment before she left the bed. "Clarke?" Naked and worried, Lexa followed her into their bathroom. The room smelled of sweat and sex. "What’s wrong?"

Clarke splashed water on her face and looked down at herself. Her erection, covered in Lexa, had an uneven swell at the base. She touched it, one large palm pressing on it, but she barely felt it. It wasn't like other alphas talked about it. It was like she was numb. Lexa watched from the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Are you going to talk to me or—"

"I don’t think I can knot."

There. It was real.

0000

Clarke drinks from a water bottle while an assistant runs the mic check. A voice behind the camera mumbles, "We should try asking anyway." A new light turns on at Clarke’s right and she squints at it.

"So Clarke," the same voice from before says, now louder. "How were the side effects of the injection?"

Clarke takes another drag from her water bottle, her eyebrows rising at the question. She places the bottle next to her chair.

"Like almost everything about this treatment, it totally sucked."

0000

"Fucking hell!" Clarke breathed through her nose, hard and gasping, her hands white with the effort of holding on to their granite sink. "Give me a moment," she gasped.

Lexa kissed her cheek, brushing the sweat away. "I got you," she whispered, always calm and serene during Clarke’s outbursts.

Clarke had been all courage and bravado until the needle—bigger than what it looked like in the doctor’s office—touched her knot. The injection site felt like fire, and every day the pain got worse. She knew it would be like this, at least until her knot inflated for the first time, and hell, that was another headache she wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

"If it hurts like that, it means it’s working," Lexa tried to argue, which did not help with the fact that Clarke’s cock was on fire. "Blood is flowing there for the first time, honey," Lexa continued to sooth, an ice bag in hand, ready for the aftercare. "Most alphas take years to go through what you’re going through in a few weeks. Give yourself some grace."

Clarke grunted, sat back on the closed toilet lid, spread her legs, and nodded. "Okay. Okay. I’m okay." Lexa kissed the top of her head and went for the second injection.

0000

Lexa hisses at something behind the camera, the mic turned off and not catching whatever accompanied the reprimand. The voice-only director clears her throat and says, "Patient 13’s, that is, Clarke’s file says her mate was the one administering the injections. That’s you." Lexa focuses on the right of the camera, sitting taller in her chair in the plant-filled room."How did you feel about that?"

"I’m not medically trained, but the mechanics of it weren't hard." She smiles, a small little thing under lights and makeup. She's aging gracefully. "Clarke was very vulnerable, and she trusted me. I would advise mates to give it a shot if they can handle the whining."

"Whining?"

"I suppose most alphas don’t take kindly to injections on their knots."

There is a chuckle off camera and a loud noise; someone else is yelling, "The mic is down!" and the off-camera voice comes back, "Cut, cut!" while Lexa chastises, "You two get down here!"

0000

Clarke woke up feeling like she had gone to hell. Everything burned. Her sleep shirt was soaked, her pajama shorts drenched, and her hair plastered to her forehead. As she sat up on the bed, she moaned, her muscles tensing. Lexa mumbled something next to her, that little sleepy snort she claimed she didn’t do every time she woke up.

"Fuck," Clarke gasped, holding on to the wall as she tried to stand up. Besides her entire body burning, her crotch ached with a pain-pleasure mix Clarke was not conscious enough to judge.

"Clarke?" Lexa asked from the bed as Clarke tumbled to the bathroom, half-awake and limping. Clarke almost fell as she kicked her shorts and sat in the bathtub, turning the water cold.

"Babe?" Wrapped in Clarke’s robe, Lexa remained on the threshold, her eyes suddenly awake. "Is it happening?"

Clarke looked at her and moaned, nodding. "It fucking burns," she whispered, and Lexa approached with caution.

"Do you want to be by yourself?" she asked, her naked feet silent on the bathroom tiles.

Clarke shook her head, extending a hand to Lexa. "Can you stay here with me?"

"Oh, my love." Lexa sat next to the bathtub, kissing Clarke’s burning cheeks. "Always."

0000

Clarke fidgets with her microphone again, and an assistant asks her to stop doing it. "And how did you feel when you could knot?" the director asks as Clarke looks up.

Clarke’s blush is more visible under the lights, and she touches an earring before answering, "Not everything about the treatment sucked."

0000

Lexa wouldn’t stop moaning. She was not always vocal, or at least not carelessly so, but as Clarke felt herself expanding inside her, Lexa wouldn’t stop the cadence of moans. Part of Clarke was worried, but most of her was lost in ecstatic bliss.

"Lex?" She gasped, her hips slowing as her range of motion was limited by her knot. "Talk to me, love," she insisted, because Lexa was tucked under her chin, an endless stream of incoherent words leaving her lips. As they slowed, spent and satisfied, finally tied, Lexa took another minute to simply gasp for air. Clarke held her, whispering small nothings. She tasted salt on Lexa’s cheeks. "Lex?"

"I’m—" Lexa tried, and they moaned together as she moved her hips. It wouldn’t budge; people were not kidding about that part. "Fuck," Lexa said, the first coherent thing in the last few minutes.

"That good?" Clarke wiggled her hips, and they moaned again, and Lexa slapped her back.

"Stop moving for a bit," she hissed. "But yeah, that good." Clarke nudged Lexa’s nose with her own, a delicate gesture like a small island in the middle of a sea of intense love making. "Are you good?" Lexa asked, finally taking a deep breath. Clarke nodded and nuzzled into Lexa’s nose again.

"I love you."

Lexa kissed her temple, and they shared a breath. "I love you too."

0000

"Why are we here?" the little girl in Clarke’s lap asks, looking up at her.

"To tell our story, baby." Clarke kisses the tops of her dark curls.

"Hello," the director calls from behind the camera, and the little girl’s attention moves away from Clake. "Hi," she repeats, "what’s your name?"

The girl looks up at Clarke, who nods, and then back at the camera. "Serah."

"How old are you, Serah?"

She proudly shows one hand with all five fingers and another two fingers on her other hand.

"That’s seven, right?" Serah nods, a missing incisor showing in her smile.

"She’s our oldest," Clarke chimes in, pulling her daughter a little closer. "The twins are three."

The image cuts to Lexa’s set, with two boys running around her chair as she types something on her phone. It cuts back to Clarke.

"So you can say, a hundred percent, that the treatment works," the director continues, and Clarke nods.

"It changed our lives."

The image shifts to a different set, with the entire family present. Clarke has a hand around Lexa’s waist, with Serah reaching up to her belly while the twins don’t get above her waist. Lexa placed each hand behind the twins' necks, keeping them in place.

"You have a beautiful family. Three beautiful, healthy pups," the voice from behind the says, and both Clarke and Lexa blush. Serah giggles, and the twins start poking each other. A silent conversation goes on between the mated pair, and it ends with a nod from Lexa.

"We’re actually expecting a fourth," Clarke reveals, one of her hands landing on the twin closest to her. The boys stop their poking.

"Congratulations! I guess three were not enough?"

"They’re definitely a handful," Clarke says as she picks up one of the twins, his blonde hair messed up by his brother’s hands. "This last one kind of… planned itself." She blushed, and Serah giggled again.

"I guess we finally understood what other couples meant by accidents during ruts," Lexa jokes, and there’s laughter in the background of the set.

"What’s a rut?" Serah asks, and the laughter increases in volume, even with the director joining in with a chuckle.

"I believe that’s a cut," Clarke says, grinning at the camera.

The image fades into black, and a centered caption appears.

The Woods-Griffin family had a healthy baby girl.

As expected, she was also a handful.

#ask the owl #prompts #look at me writing prompts like a normal author #art art art #write write write #I tried new things with this one #I hope you liked it dear anon #clexa #clexa fanfic #the 100 fanfiction

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 6 months

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Kirsty angst hurts but the headcanons? 🥺🥺

TW: Medical content, eating disorders, alcoholism, drug abuse/addiction, miscarriage, abortion, emotional abuse, not very Paris or Gilmore (Emily, Rory, Lorelai) friendly

feels like i'm still missing stuff but like oh well

Kirsty was born with underdeveloped inner ears, she has always had moderate hearing loss (undiagnosed) but when she gets a head injury in the s2 car accident, it becomes more severe and finally gets diagnosed

Whenever Kirsty is really stressed or overwhelmed, she goes into a deep cleaning overdrive until she physically can’t anymore and just ends up laying on the floor wherever she was last working

Kirsty starts wearing hearing aids when she's 17, she gets her first cane at 18 but doesn't need it all the time, and as an adult she gets a second cane (she gets the floral cane in high school, the chair cane as an adult)

Kirsty suffers from a lot of chronic pain from dance (especially hips, knees, and ankles) and is almost always using at least one hot water bottle when she’s at home, as well as even more general chronic pain

Kirsty also struggles with chronic fatigue, she struggles to force herself out of bed most days which is a significant factor in her coffee addiction, though even then it doesn't help very much.

Kirsty has Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which is an abnormal heartbeat. It's present from birth but it's common to not exhibit symptoms for a long time – in Kirsty’s case it first flared up the summer after s2 but with cutting back caffeine and getting treatment for her anxiety it got under control before much testing was done; she’s had a few episodes since then but it doesn’t get really bad again until season 7 where it leads to surgery and more long term heart issues

She doesn’t realize it until her s7 heart issues but she’s absolutely terrified to die

She's allergic to latex and mushrooms

Kirsty has had an eating disorder since she was eight years old – this isn't including the fact that she is autistic and very particular about her food as well. It was the result of Emily's constant criticism of Kirsty's appearance and eating habits, and a bit of Kirsty's major control issues spiralling

She started taking anxiety medication in New York, but has kept it a secret because she knows that both Emily and Lorelai would react very negatively

Kirsty battles with alcoholism and drug addiction for most of her life. It starts in her freshman year of high school – originally with alcohol and smoking but then she also starts smoking weed (doesn't particularly like it but it makes her less socially anxious at parties) and starts doing coke. She is able to get mostly sober but has some relapses over the years.

Kirsty has five children, four pregnancies, and two labours. Her first pregnancy is before season 1, she gets an abortion (Chandler is the only person who knows, she tells Logan a couple of years later but pre-Yale). Her second pregnancy is either through s3 (in piece) or just after graduating Yale (my way/most AUs). Her third is in either s6 (in piece) or s7 (my way), she miscarries. And her fourth is when she's in her thirties, the labour almost kills her. She has twins the first time and triplets the last.

She also struggles from postpartum depression. She's mostly okay the first time, throwing herself into preparing for Yale helps to distract her, but it's very bad with the triplets

Kirsty absolutely adores the snow. She loves rain too, but snow is as magical to her as it is to Lorelai.

Kirsty is also always cold. So while she loves snow, she does end up suffering a lot because once she gets cold, she really struggles to warm back up, but she'll curl up under blankets with her hot water bottles and tea/hot chocolate and look at the snow out the window

Kirsty fractures her ankle in Presenting Lorelai Gilmore ( only in My Way ), she also fractures her wrist in Teach Me Tonight. She gets a severe concussion in Teach Me Tonight as well, and cracks at least two ribs, and has a spinal injury and another severe concussion from Forester pushing her down a flight of stairs in Keg Max

When Kirsty has her bad heart flare up in s7, Colin and Finn drop everything to move into the apartment and help out – in both verses, as does Jess (in My Way, he already lived with her in Piece) and Tristan (in Piece, he already lived with her in My Way), and Logan tries to come back to New Haven as often as possible

Kirsty is the absolute worst when she’s sick! She does not take care of herself and will keep going until the collapses! She’s very self sufficient and will insist that she’s absolutely fine, no matter how bad things actually are! It��s very difficult to convince her to let anyone help, or even to get her to admit that she’s sick — it started when she was a child because of her refusal to miss a dance competition over being sick, so she would just take as much cold medicine as she safely could and just kept dancing, and she’s carried that well into adulthood

(and in more serious cases, of which she’s definitely had some, her deep rooted fear of hospitals and doctors absolutely leads to her doing anything to not have to actually see a doctor, she also really is deeply deeply terrified of doctors and if she has to go to a hospital or doctor's office she will have at least one panic attack, regardless of whether or not she's the patient)

Kirsty is very prone to dissociative episodes and goes nonverbal when they happen, it's her brain's way of protecting her from her anxiety – they're set off the most by Emily, Lorelai, Forester, and Christopher

Kirsty is the reason that Paris doesn't get into Harvard. She calls Kirsty the R slur (in front of half their grade and multiple teachers) and Kirsty flips her shit and immediately goes to Charleston, throws a bit of a fit, he’s just kind of like “sucks to suck”, and looking him in the eye she picks up the phone on his desk and calls Emily. needless to say, he backtracks quickly and suspends her, and removes her as editor of the paper (I’m sort of considering having this be in s3 during the student council mess bc then she could also be removed as class president)

Kirsty is beyond pissed to end up in a quad with she and Rory at Yale, and is trying to petition to be able to move rooms. Ultimately, after Emily decides to redecorate the dorm without permission, Kirsty gets a note from her therapist saying that for her physical and mental safety/wellbeing, Kirsty will no longer be living on campus (Kirsty also threatens to sue them and to sell the story to the press) – she gets herself an apartment and doesn't tell anyone where she lives

Kirsty has endometriosis. Her periods are very irregular and very painful, it's also one of the factors in sex being extremely uncomfortable for her, and causes her severe nausea

Kirsty has (at least) three service dogs over the years, starting in s7! They're all introduced here!

When Emily is mad at Kirsty, she burns childhood photos of her (Richard has learned to have his own copies of every photo) and says she’s having a funeral for her granddaughter – side note, Kirsty has significantly more of a relationship with Emily growing up than Rory did. Emily pays for all of Kirsty's dance fees (lessons, shoes, travel, competitions, costumes, etc, plus is the one to take her to New York every year when she does Nutcracker) but in exchange, Kirsty visits her once a week (usually Sunday afternoons), is a very involved DAR member, and helps out with every event that Emily hosts

#ask #answered #the witching ash #kirsty gilmore #about kirsty

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after-witch · 1 year

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Are you adjusting well after the move?

honestly--

nope, nope, nope, not at all. I'm not doing well in a serious way.

I feel very mentally displaced because I can't unpack anything extra due to my most recent back injury, so my apartment is still just Boxes and A Handful of Essential Things right now. I had to reschedule an appointment for my back issue, so hopefully I can get in soon.

I'm finding it difficult to finish things (commissions, work, anything personal) because my back issue after pulling it on Day 3 of Living Here makes sitting at a computer flare up my back pain.

But because of my feet issues, I can't stand for long periods either. I'm just constantly battling pain, inability to do normal things, while also still trying to work & take care of myself & eat food that is vaguely healthy for me.

I just feel like I'm stuck in metaphorical syrup right now, and I'm struggling to get to a flat surface where I can get balanced again. If that makes sense.

Sorry for the rant 'non, I appreciate you asking, i just wish I was doing better.

good thing:

I really do like my apartment & the area. It's a small town that I used to visit all the time when I'd get dropped off for doctor's appointments, and my apartment is within walking distance to a downtown area with quite a bit to do. (library! movies! an old fashioned arcade! parks & biking trails I can use once I get my bike fixed up!) My neighbors are totally fine and the set-up of where my apartment is in the building gives me more privacy than I thought I'd have.

edit: also I told myself I'd try to unpack one box before I go to sleep because it's on top of a table and I can reach it and BAM, finally found my desk microphone that I use when I can't type because of elbow flare-ups, but now I can use it while standing or walking around to write!! fucking yes. thank you, random box.

#also the back injury made it so I can't do my physical therapy for my shoulder #so now my shoulder hurts really damn bad #;;asdf;s #and my foot arthritis is flaring up #I can't even say I feel DEPRESSED... because it's a different feeling than january-february #it's more like I just literally feel stuck and can't pull out #a;df it's also why I haven't been reblogging all this great stuff people have been posting #I put reblogs in my drafts so I can get to them eventually because I have THOUGHTS y'all I just can't get them out #y'all are exquisite writers and I need you to know that

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dorefasolsido · 10 months

Text

35.

Habits

Do you tend to speed when you drive?

Not normally. I've learned my lesson with two speeding tickets (I overstepped the limit by just a bit) and I'm not giving my money to this country or any related institutions more than I have to.

Do you smoke cigarettes?

Nope. I tried one once just to see how it is and I hated it. Never felt the peer pressure either since most of my friends don't smoke.

Does your temper flare a lot?

No, when that happens you know it's serious since I really am super phlegmatic.

Do you get emotional easily?

Again, not too easily. I mean, I think I'm a fairly sensitive person deep inside, but there's no way in hell I'm letting other people see that side of me unless they are really close to me. And even then.

Do you get obnoxious when you're drunk?

I don't think so. I've never been 100% drunk, so I can't honestly say, but I think I'm kinda the same as I normally am, only more relaxed and fun. Like, I'm way less in my head and care much less about what other people might think about me, so I can talk more openly.

Which shoe goes on first?

I think I do the right first.

Are you lazy?

I probably am. Tbh, I'm a weird mixture of a workaholic and couch potato. I don't know how it works, but yes, I can procrastinate forever but I can also work 12+ hours when deadlines approach. And I hated those two weeks I was basically jobless this summer. Although at the same time, I love taking days off.

Name one thing you do that people always tell you about.

Mmm, nothing specific comes to mind right now.

Are you superstitious?

So listen, I'm not really superstitious, but I like my lucky charms and I find such things generally interesting. I think they're a fun part of the culture.

Do you get bored with relationships quickly?

Well no, but I also struggle with my avoidant personality very much.

Can you sleep without blankets covering you?

Normally not, it's just comfier to have at least something covering you.

What position do you sleep in?

On the side (well, more like half stomach) without a pillow.

What do you do when you're angry?

Well, I usually go quiet and talk very little to others, especially those that pissed me off.

What do you do when you're sad?

Depends, if I'm alone then I just snuggle up in my blanket on the floor and watch videos or shows I find comforting. And preferably eat some chocolate.

Who do you call when you have a bad day?

I don't, I prefer to be alone then.

YOUR ABC'S

A - is for the last person that made you ANGRY.

My friend for not responding to a text for days. I'm not very demanding when it comes to texting, but geez, at least once in a day would be nice.

B - is for BEER you prefer.

I don't have a preference, beer is kinda gross. I still drink it sometimes because it's the easiest to order, but yeah.

C - is for do you have a CAT?

Yeees.

D - is for can you DANCE?

Lol, I don't know if I can but I love to.

E - is for do you have your EARS pierced?

I do, several times.

F - is for your best FRIEND.

Sam.

G - is for did you ever watch GUTS on Nickelodeon?

I've never even heard of it. But I didn't actually have Nickelodeon growing up.

H - is for the last person who HUGGED you?

I honestly have no clue who it was. I don't get many hugs, if that hasn't been clear lol

I - is for close your eyes.. what IMAGE do you see?

Like those weird star thingies you see when you close your eyes. And red blackness.

J - is for have you ever been to JAIL?

Nope.

K - is for when is the last time you flew a KITE?

I don't think I ever did.

L - is for the LOVE of your life.

Well if we don't count Park Jimin... which we don't because he doesn't know I exist, then no one.

M - is for the last piece of MAIL you got.

Probably some bills. I should check my post office though, I ordered something that should probably have arrived by now.

N - is for do you remember NERF guns?

I do.

O - is for do you OWN a car?

I don't yet, but my parents will soon give me and my sister their old car since they got a new one. So I technically will own one.

P - is for your favorite PASTTIME.

Doing surveys, reading, watching stuff on YT or wherever, scrolling through apps, etc.

Q - is for do you like peace & QUIET?

I definitely do. But I also like chaos.

R - is for do you like the color RED?

I'm okay with it.

S - is for how many hours of SLEEP you need to function?

My phone actually tracks that now, it turns out I get like 5.30h on average almost every day. And I feel totally fine with that, but I probably shouldn't.

T - is for what TIME is it?

1:19 PM

U - is for what is UNDER your bed?

Nothing, I think. I hope.

V - is for what you did last VALENTINE'S day.

Nothing, Valentine's is nothing special for me.

W - is for do you drink a lot of WATER?

Not as much as I should, though I've increased the intake a bit.

X - is for have you ever had an X-RAY?

When I was little yes, and also one for my wisdom tooth.

Y - is for the last person you YELLED at.

I actually have no clue. It's extremely rare that I yell at someone.

Z - is for have you ever watched ZORRO?

Nope.

RANDOM

Who do you wish you could hang out with right now?

Tbh no one right now. I haven't seen anyone aside from my sister for almost a week, but I don't really mind. I'm honestly just tired of always pushing for plans and waiting for people to answer messages and then them suddenly cancelling plans and so on and so on. So I decided not to bother this weekend and I just stayed at home.

Name one thing you absolutely can not stand.

Andrew Tate fans.

Where do you spend most of your time?

In my room, probably.

If you could fly, where would you go first?

Japan.

What was the best vacation you've ever been on?

Thassos in 2007, such fun times.

Have you ever hit a squirrel when you were driving?

No, and I hope I never do.

Did your car ever break down?

One time I think something was with its battery while I was driving, but we resolved that.

What's your favorite thing to do on the weekend?

Hang out with my friends, which is why they piss me off so much with their constant indecisiveness and inability to get to their damn phones and answer. Actually, I know they are on their phones, which only makes it worse.

What radio station do you listen to most often?

I don't normally listen to the radio unless I'm in the car.

Pick one: Papa John's, Dominoes, or Pizza Hut.

I've never tried any of these.

What is the longest amount of time you've been awake?

Like hours? Idk, less than 48, more than 24.

What would you do if you found out the world was ending in one week?

Lol I don't know. I guess I'd follow the development on social media or something. Also, I'd just quit all of my jobs and do nothing all day.

Do scary movies make you paranoid when you watch them alone?

No, or at least not seriously paranoid. A little bit, yeah, but that's exactly the charm.

Name one thing you've lied about recently.

I'm not sure, it was probably something really small and silly. But I always lie about the smallest things because it's more convenient or because I don't want the other person to feel bad or whatever. Like, for example, if I make plans to meet with someone and wait for a long time, when they ask me how long I've waited, I just say 5-10 minutes.

What is the worst movie you've ever seen?

I don't know, because some movies are so bad they are good. I'm trying to think of one that really pissed me off, but nothing comes to mind right now.

Who was the first person to ever give you flowers?

Not sure about the first person, but one friend gave me a sunflower for my birthday which was super cute but I made it super awkward and I still hate myself for it lol. Tom, I'm sorry, man.

#personal #surveys

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faofinn · 2 years

Text

25. Acid Reflux/Heartburn

@sicktember

Fao knew eating Chinese takeaway so late at night had been a mistake. Him and Hars had both finished late after their shifts, exhausted and not about to cook. They picked it up on the way home, not walking in the door until about 9. By that point they were tired and starving, and curled on the couch, the food quickly disappeared.

Full and content (and half asleep) the pair of them went to shower. After a long and frustrating day, the hot water was exactly what they needed. Fao slipped out for a smoke before bed whilst Harrison was in the shower, letting the dog out at the same time.

The dog finished and looking for attention, Fao finished his cigarette and headed back inside. He took his evening meds, brushed his teeth, and then settled in bed with his boyfriend, content. Their day had not only been long, but emotionally draining too, and they spent a little bit of time talking softly about their day, able to offload on each other about their own worries. It was so nice, to have someone who got it. Their patients weren’t always the same, and the worries were often different, but there was a mutual understanding. Soon the conversation turned to lighter things, and not long after that the pair of them were asleep.

Except Fao woke up a couple of hours later, nauseous and with a burning in his chest. There was admittedly a flutter of panic, concerned his AF was flaring again, but it eased slightly when he sat up, and as he woke a little more, he realised it was nothing more than acid. Of course it was. They’d eaten late, and Fao had picked a few of his favourites, with plenty of salt and chilli. He’d barely been able to eat all day, it was no surprise the sheer amount of food and the spice was setting him off after having an empty stomach all day. God, was this what getting old was like? Fucking heartburn. Way to make him panic in the middle of the night.

Rubbing his chest absently, he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb his boyfriend and the dog. He padded across the room to the bathroom, digging around in the cupboard for some antacids. He knew there were some in there somewhere, he just couldn’t bloody find them.

Harrison had half woken up when Fao got up, missing the warmth of the bed. He figured Fao would be back in a few moments, but when he didn't hear the running of water and Fao didn't reappear, worry kicked in.

"Fao? You okay?" He called, struggling to get his leg on quickly.

“Mm?” Fao hummed distractedly. “‘M okay.”

"You haven't come back. What's wrong?"

“Heartburn.” He grumbled. “Can’t find the Rennies.”

"Heartburn?" Harrison's stomach flipped. "Are you sure?"

“Yeah. My own fault for eating too late and too much chilli.” He grumbled.

Harrison had finally managed to get to the bathroom, and he wrapped an arm around Fao's waist. "Are you sure? Can you sit down?"

Fao leaned into him. “Hars, I’m fine.”

"You said that last time. Come on, sit, let me check you over."

“Seriously? I’m fine, I swear.” Fao said, but reluctantly sat down. “Can you at least find some antacids?”

He hummed, rummaging through the cupboards. "Where's the aspirin?"

“I don’t need aspirin, I took my meds tonight. I need fucking Rennies.”

"But just in case."

“I don’t need it. My heart is fine.”

"You've got pain. In your chest."

“I’ve got heartburn because I sleep on my stomach. And I ate spicy greasy food just before bed.”

"Fine. Rennies now, then let me check you over."

“Yeah, sure.”

Harrison passed him the box before awkwardly crouching in front of him. "Let me check."

Fao took one from the box, unwrapping it and chewing on it. He winced at the flavour, but it would at least fix this problem. “Go for it. I’m fine.”

He took Fao's wrist in his hand, gently feeling for his pulse. He hated to admit that it felt normal, and Fao didn't look anything like he'd expected if he was having issues with his AF. Maybe Fao was fine, and maybe Harrison was overreacting just a little bit. As much as he would never admit it, their early wake up call with his AF had hit Harrison harder than he'd expected. Every stumble, every time he rubbed his chest, or stood up too quickly and had to steady himself had Harrison’s own heart racing, fear rising in his throat.

“All okay? It still feels a bit wonky sometimes when you take it but I feel completely fine.”

Harrison rocked back onto his heels. "Yeah."

“Can I go back to bed then?”

"If you're absolutely sure you’re fine?"

“I’m fine. This is just heartburn, go and find your steth if you’re so worried.”

"I don't want to leave you alone." He admitted, not looking Fao in the eye.

“I’ve got legs, I’ll come with you.”

"No. You can't."

“I’ll go to bed and wait there.”

"No, because then I'll have left you."

“Honestly, Tomcat, I feel fine. If you’re worried let me walk with you and give you peace of mind.”

"I just can't lose you."

“I’m not going anywhere. I’d tell you if I felt bad, honestly.” He stood up stiffly. “Come on, what can I do to put your mind at rest? Apart from an ECG, because we’ve not got one at home.”

"I don't know."

“Let’s just go back to bed, then?”

Harrison hung his head. "I can't."

“Hars, I love you, and I want to help you, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m tired. Can we go back to bed?” Fao said softly.

"If you want to help me," he admitted quietly, "you can help me up. I'm stuck."

“Oh.” Fao couldn’t help but laugh. “You idiot, come here.” He stood up and offered Harrison his hands.

Harrison took them gratefully, struggling up to standing. "The ankle keeps locking up, I need to get it seen to."

“I can have a look tomorrow, if you don’t want to take it somewhere?” Fao offered. “Can’t promise I’ll help, but I’ll try.”

"It's okay. I'll just ignore it again."

“Nah, you’ll get stuck somewhere again.”

"You can just rescue me."

“I’ll follow you around then, waiting to scoop you up like a Knight in shining armour?”

Harrison leaned in, wrapping his arms around Fao. "Sounds good."

“A knight with a dodgy heart.” He murmured, leaning into him.

"Better than one with no leg."

“We make a right pair, don’t we?”

After a moment together like that, the pair of them headed to bed. Fao curled up against Harrison, humming contentedly. He hadn’t meant to scare him, he’d just not been able to find the antacids. Now he’d found them, he felt better, and soon fell asleep again.

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arcane-sync · 1 year

Text

I'm just... not in a good way. Kind of in a very bad way, actually.

Still dragging my way through school. Which is fine at this point. No new struggles there. Just... several house problems have come up as well, and my husband has done fuck all to address them. I am moderately germaphobic, so it is very literally difficult to do certain tasks. Yet I find myself doing the litter, cleaning the dishes, and hell, even some plumbing. The sinks have been draining slowly, and cleaning the drain traps has been an actual nightmare. I asked him to at least clean out the bucket I used and put on the back porch. He emptied it, but he didn't rinse them out with the hose. I've had to do construction and handyman work. I need to figure out how to drain the hot water heater. Plus normal stuff like cleaning the counters, the floors, the toilet. I CAN do these things, even with the phobia, but it is so, so mentally taxing. Plus the litter and dishes are supposed to be his chores, and he complains about them not getting done. He just... doesn't do it. Says he doesn't have time, doesn't fit into his schedule.

The cat has been misbehaving as well. She has decided my husband's clothes are a good place to go bathroom. And my husband is loosing his temper over it, which is... very literally triggering me. My dad would lose his temper with our cats growing up and kick them across the room. My husband isn't hurting our cat, but it still triggers me that he is getting angry with the cat for doing cat things. It's not her fault. It's our fault for not training her properly and/or not seeing to her medical needs. He has been complaining about this for weeks, but he hasn't fixed anything. I finally decided to just schedule the vet appointment myself. He bought cleaning supplies to deodorize her messes, but he hasn't used them properly. He just throws the clothes in the washer without running it, making the washer smell. I should mention I am ALLERGIC to cat urine. He KNOWS this. I have asked him to clean these things. But again... doesn't fit his schedule. He just gets mad about it instead. I am just trying to keep up with the problem as best I can.

My physical health is struggling, mostly because the air quality is terrible where I live. It is causing several different health issues to flare.

Counseling has been... hard. Good progress. Amazing progress. I have met a few new parts. But with that comes... well... difficult memories. Difficult emotions. New things I do not know how to deal with. New parts to take care of. I need to publicly state I am not ashamed of them or what they've been through, because I know they fear that. It is just... hard. For me and them.

Since my mental AND physical health is flagging, older mental health issues are beginning to rear their heads again. Stuff that I usually have a handle on. Self harm just to make everything... stop... slow down for a while. I have an old eating disorder rearing its head too. I've never known exactly what it is, never been diagnosed. I'll go days at a time without eating. And when I do, there's a 50/50 chance I'll keep the food down. Sometimes I'll throw it up due to disgust with myself for eating, and sometimes its due to distrusting the food, that it is somehow contaminated (and that is 100% a trauma thing, growing up in a house with food that was frequently infested. Don't know if those instances count as flashbacks or not).

I am... scared to admit to struggling. Not with my relationship with my school now. It's pretty clear that any signs of mental health struggles will be confronted with great bias. Hell, even my marriage problems. That is one of the areas they drilled me on, saying that a poor marriage was a sign that I was unfit for the program.

I find myself missing the psych ward. The permission to just... focus on myself and my own recovery.

I am... not okay.

#as marriage problems #tw animal abuse #tw self harm #tw eating disorders #Skye rambling #Azure rambling #She who refuses to be named rambling #VV rambling

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nathank77 · 3 months

Text

6/16/24

12:27 a.m

So I didn't get any game time in today. I did the sleeping pill. And I have so much anxiety about going to my Dad's it's flaring up my ibs. I might get a chapter of shattered memories done in a little bit but it's like maximum 30 minutes of game time which is unfortunate.

My hdcp bypasser has been an asshole.

I have a lot of anxiety about going to my dad's bc even if I say fuck the car wash, I'm going to get there late. I have to drive home in the dark with my astigmatism that my glasses do not help. And skye prob won't be there bc she's going at 12. She's kinda a buffer not that the kids aren't but I'll just leave when they get the kids in their pj's before bed.

Also the last time I talked to my dad was over the phone about mark dying and he was really mad at me.

Not to mention bc of my circadian rhythm I won't get enough time to justify the cost/Time/energy it takes for me to go there. Imma go but my ibs is acting up for a reason. And make no mistake it's about having to be there.

Unless he asks me to stay after the kids go to bed i will use that as my exit but I don't really want to talk to them about anything. They'll prob push me to go into a institution as I'm not recovering fast enough and I can't recover here. They prob won't ask me to stay after the kids go to bed but I worry about it.

I wish I could get there at like 2 p.m and stay until 6 and drive home in the daylight. I wish I could go with skye. Either way I'm anxious about it.

I'm also disappointed that I'll only be there maximum 3-4 hours before the kids go to bed. My circadian rhythm fucks with my entire quality of life.

I'm so anxious about it I'm picking out my clothes now so after I use the bathroom and eat I can throw on my outfit and leave. Since I'm going late, I'm going to wear jeans and have a hoodie with me. One of the hoodies they got me. Jeans I'm struggling to find a pair out of my many pairs. I'll go into that later.

I'm worried they won't feed me and I have to take a protein bar with me. Why? Cause of the late time I'm getting there. I'll have to take my white mulberries later in the day when I get home with some kind of solid meal. I don't want to bring them in my backpack incase it's hot. Same with the protein bar.

I want to go into the attic Monday and grab my clean clothes boxes the ones from my room that just got cycled into the attic and clean the storage bin skye left in the hallway for me.

I'm planning on making that purchase at Walmart maybe tonight or tomorrow. I'll get the the pillow top mattress cover Monday and the microfiber blanket Friday, I plan to do the laundry for the shared closet (the blankets in the bin and grab the clothes from the attic and wash them and put them into the lid-less clear bin until I get the new storage bins.) And I would do whatever clothes I've naturally accumulated. On Friday I would do the new blanket, the pillow top and the old blanket and old pillow top with my sheets. So I can have a whole new clean bedding experience on Friday. And then on Friday I'd have the clear storage bins and I can swap my clothes into one of them and put the old pillow top mattress cover and blanket in the blanket storage bin. It's a good plan and leaves me Saturday and Sunday to game.

The sad part about going to my dad's today is that I didn't realize it was father's day and I planned to have a game weekend and by the time I realized it. I had already planned things in a different way than I would have if I had known it was fathers day. With psychosis everything is difficult. I hallucinate 24/7. Legit. I'm always planning, to keep myself on the ball. Never waste a minute.

I took my last Doxycycline at 5 p.m today. So any dry mouth from that will be discontinued. Not that its been a problem anymore. I still want to do l salivarius bc of how helpful it can be for gingivitis... I got to get coQ10 again soon.

My pants are driving me crazy bc I'm wearing my dillions right now in 34s. They button but they are tight... and my Arizonas (the ones I've been wearing for months that are not really skinny jeans they are prob slim but they are baggy) are a size 33!!!!!!!!!! Those are huge and roomy and need a belt what the actual fuck. I've tried on every pair of pants I had cause mrsa only lives on things for 2 weeks and I mean it'll be weeks before I wear jeans again but I'm prob stuck in my Arizonas for tomorrow. I'm trying to stretch out my favorite pairs of Dillons. I really wish they weren't so tight. I'm prob 5 pounds away from being able to wear these without being squeezed in. I'm hoping if I stretch them out a little since pants are always tighter after you wash them before you wear them I can make them work. Prob not.

The majority of my pants are 34 and 33.. none of them fit. Only those Arizonas in 33...........

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alwaysinlimbo · 5 months

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April 22nd, 2024

I have a couple things I feel the need to write about today. It's been a long and strange day honestly.

I stared listening to A Fine Frenzy again for the first time in a while. It got me thinking about my late middle school early high school days. Those days were difficult in their own ways but I miss how somewhat fearlessly I approached them. I was brave when I wanted to be.

I thought to myself "huh, maybe I'll start dressing a little twee inspired again just to bring inner kid me some joy." I feel like that era of myself was the last time I felt truly sure about myself and authentic. I miss that feeling.

Little me was just a kid trying to deal with trauma. Somedays I think about her and I want to cry. I want to sit with her and brush her hair, tell her that everything is going to be okay and work out exactly how it's supposed to. I want to tell her that hey, it's okay that she made some dumb mistakes. She once told everyone she knew fluent Swedish, and it was a complete lie, but she was trying to hard to be liked because it was so difficult to exist at the time. Her friends called her boring because she was so quiet. So she came up with little lies to make her more interesting.

Not to say that was right or anything, it was definitely a dumb thing to do, but in reality how many teenagers do that. I know plenty who did and it didn't cause any great deal of harm.

I had another realization today. When I was younger I had this idea drilled into my head that if you had nothing to hide than you didn't need privacy. My mother ready my diary once. I brushed it off because I though oh it doesn't matter if I don't have anything to hide. In reality, I didn't want to make her think I had something to hide, because then she wouldn't trust me. In reality, she broke my trust and disrespected my privacy. I wish I had realized that sooner, as it probably would've helped me in many other situations.

privacy is something everyone has a right to. It doesn't mean you're doing anything bad, or that you're keeping secrets from people. It means that sometimes you have things that you prefer to keep to yourself and THAT'S OKAY.

-------** if you're not a fan of talk of body image issues I'll ask you not to proceed**------

I also have some thoughts on body image that I think I need to write about. It's been on my mind for such a long time and maybe journaling will help that.

I've never had such trouble with body image...but maybe that's because I was always small and horribly thin...I was always "the little one" growing up. Then all of a sudden I was called "curvier" than my sister. Then, my mother started being more vocal about criticizing her body and those of others. Then I got diagnosed with IBS and PMDD and began experiencing chronic pain and bloating. And suddenly here I am, sitting in a random college building at 8:03pm on a Monday night, bloated and feeling horrible about my body and wanting to go home and crawl into my bed and never come back out.

it's very dramatic I know, sometimes my silly brain decides to have a flare for the dramatics. I promise though, I was never a theatre kid.

Last night in my dream, an old school mate of mine told me I had "put on some weight." I woke up feeling very weird. My OCD likes to tell me that I have a binge eating disorder and it's only a matter of time before I become horribly unhealthy.

My logical brain tries to tell me otherwise though. I often have to tell myself " you have a chronic, incurable digestive disorder and are also a woman with organs that need to be protected. it's okay that your tummy isn't perfectly flat."

Your thoughts create your reality. Last night I read the part in Dodie's book about skin picking, something I also struggle with, and I came across the quote:

"If you tell the world you're beautiful, it will believe you, and then you'll start believing it too."

And I plan to write that on every mirror in my room. I want to engrave it on my brain, inside my eyelids, stare at it all hours of the day until my stubborn brain is able to accept it. I want to live my life in this way. I just desire to be a person who exudes light. I want to exude love. I have grown up in fight or flight mode and I am tired. I am tired of feeling like no matter what I do, I will be the villain. I constantly feel as though I am somehow inherently evil.

I am not, and I never have been. I have just spoken up for myself and set boundaries over the years, and sometimes people do not like that. And when they especially don't like that, they make you out to be the villain. You will never be the protagonist in everyones book.

Those are my thoughts for the night. I'll do a separate post about some body image prompts. I enjoy journalling prompts, but this post is becoming quite long. purely organizational. Good night <3

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ocqueen · 6 months

Text

CW detailed discussion of weight loss/gain, chronic health, and disordered eating

Normally I'd post this type of stuff on my journal blog never to be seen again, but hey. I'm feeling bold and weirdly okay about people I know reading this, and it might be insightful for some other people, too.

A long rambling story about weight and physical/mental health, chronic illness, changing bodies, and roads to recovery

I've just hit a really significant physical milestone for me where I can see myself gaining weight. I don't keep a scale (my mom didn't allow them in the house growing up and I never got one for myself), so I don't know if it's backed up by numbers, but it's enough to where I'm actually filling out my bras, developing a stomach and an ass, can't feel my sharp hip bones or ribs jutting out anymore. It's... weird. I finally get people's insecurities about NOT being twiggy thin like I used to be, can feel those thoughts creeping in already even as a still very thin person every time I struggle to get my new butt into my old size 0 pants, but at the same time there's something a bit joyful about being able to see a body that's taking up more space and changing with my age and what that means about my personal health and recovery in general.

I've been stick thin ever since I was a kid, and as I went through college it was very clear that I wasn't going to get a 'freshman fifteen' - and then just about the same time equally as clear that the reason for that was because I was very chronically ill, violently depressed, and stressed out of my mind in a high-pressure program, all of which meant I had a low appetite and lost a lot of weight. The fabled 'freshman fifteen' was actually there, just keeping me at a baseline thin instead of dropping me off a cliff into more dangerously underweight. Even with it, I was starting to have attacks of hypothermia from lack of fat to keep myself warm, and had to start dressing in heavy layers - something my GP originally couldn't explain.

I've struggled since my diagnoses with managing my health, and a lot with gaining - and keeping - weight. I'd go through periods of weight gain as my conditions were in remission or I better managed my stress levels, only to have a health flare or a bout of deadlines and anxieties and lose it all again. I've barely ever managed to hit my goal weight, and when I did it was probably only for about two weeks. I live in constant fear of falling below 100 pounds again now that I finally managed to get myself over it, to the point where I refused to exercise at all and risk accidentally losing more of what little weight I had, despite it being bad for other areas of my health and well being.

I also tend towards disordered eating since I was a teen, especially once I lost the structures of school, and hate having to feed myself - cooking feels like a drudgery and a chore, and eating out was too expensive and wasteful, so I often forgot or forewent it intentionally - something I did more often in school and during my stints working in television. Eating got put to the wayside, in favor of 'productive tasks' and 'saving money' (as if eating to fuel your body wasn't productive enough). I got headaches, shakes, fatigue, all from not eating enough, and it got bad enough that eventually I got an app specifically to track my calories, which revealed how horrible I've been with fueling my body or eating enough to maintain weight. I tried to change, force myself to eat, and for a time it worked, but I always ended up forgetting and falling back onto old habits.

Now, years later, I've adapted. I eat three meals a day because I have a new job with a time structure, I've learned to intentionally eat more calorie-dense foods to make up for eating less, and I snack when I remember to and keep fruit and packaged snacks around that are easy to grab. I've taught myself to be okay eating takeout if I don't have the energy to cook and I exercise doing strength training and yoga to gain muscle without losing weight (though my current job is quite sedentary and I should probably be doing more cardio, haha). Many of my health conditions are getting better with managed treatment, even while others might worsen, and the main culprits for my medical weight loss have slowly been brought to heel and monitored closely. I'm even on a few meds with a side effect of weight gain, which has helped out, too.

And with all of that together... I think we've finally moved past maintenance. I looked in the mirror the other day and I had a real, true stomach, and smooth bumps at my hips instead of jutting bone, and while it caught me off guard I'm slowly coming to enjoy it instead of fear it. My waist isn't so wasp-thin anymore, filled out by fat or muscle, and it's unclear which but I don't care right now. My face is less gaunt, I look less tired (my mom tells me how much better I look), I'm getting fewer unexplained bouts of hypothermia and I know where my late afternoon headaches are from and can make sure they don't happen anymore. It's surreal to me, like I'm a different person, and while it's a lot of work to manageI know that it's healthier this way. My doctors are now worried about me gaining too MUCH weight, but I'm just happy to settle into a new body for a bit - one that might be able to help carry me wherever I need to go, and one I might be able to treat a bit better in the future if I make sure I don't forget it. It's part of my recovery, not only with my physical health, but a sign of moving past and managing my fast-inducing depression and anxiety, too, and that alone is enough to make me happier than I could have thought a little bit of fat could do.

Anyways, recovery looks a lot of different ways for a lot of different people, but this is mine, and it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately as I go through chronic health flares and scares related to other things. It's a small victory for me that I hope can usher in a few larger ones in the future, and pave the way for something more.

#personal #venting #rambles #chronic health #weight gain #weight loss #disordered eating #tw weight #tw weight loss #tw weight gain #tw disordered eating #chronic illness #personal success #queen.txt #recovery

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happymeishappylife · 2 years

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Favorite Albums of 2022

1. Holy Fvck by Demi Lovato

Favorite Songs: Substance, Eat Me, Freak (ft. YUNGBLUD), Skin of My Teeth, 29, City of Angels, Dead Friends I really appreciate the change in sound and the vulnerability that Demi has continued to show in music. While I can’t relate to their experiences, hearing them be so open and honest about the things in their life that have changed them, affected them, and troubled them is so incredibly moving and something I always gravitate towards so I found this album exciting. Plus as I’m getting into harder rock these days, the sound is soooo good and the beats and riffs they has to capture that style is so well done. Plus their voice is so incredible to match with it that I love it. They were great in concert too!

2. Midnights by Taylor Swift

Favorite Songs: Lavender Haze, Anti-Hero, Snow On The Beach (ft. Lana Del Ray), You’re On Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Mastermind, Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve To me this was such a perfect follow up to Folklore and Evermore with the same sort of sound and storytelling, but adding in that signature Jack Antonoff synths and styles made this album fantastic. Plus I appreciate again the open honesty and vulnerability of that late night reflections that Taylor takes us on in this album. It makes for a fantastic mix of calm, soothing, and also reflective. Can’t wait to her live for the first time net year.

3. Mercury Act 2 by Imagine Dragons

Favorite Songs: Bones, Sharks, I Don’t Like Myself, Take it Easy, Waves, Ferris Wheel, Sirens, Continual (ft. Cory Henry) I appreciated Part 1 of this album, but Part 2 really got me hooked more and made me feel like I was bag in the days of the first couple albums with the more lively pop/rock songs like Bones and Sharks, but again a great further reflection on the mental health and struggles we all went through, but especially the parts of Dan Reynolds that he has always been open about. Putting Part 1 and Part 2 together also feels like one big album and sound and isn’t disconnected so to me this was a great follow up and it was nice to get new music from them 2 years in a row. Can’t wait to see what happens next.

4. Anthem by Flogging Molly

Favorite Songs: These Times Have Got Me Drinking, A Song of Liberty, Life Begins and Ends (But Never Fails), The Croppy Boy ‘98, This Road of Mine, These Are the Days I love this band so much and getting to see them again live this year was a treat and always is. But considering how many years its been since we’ve had new music, not only was this album a great surprise but honestly the whole album is amazing and sounds great. There isn’t a single song I don’t like and it just is that good old Irish rock that I love so much with the same old Flogging Molly sound I’ve loved for all these years. Plus having a song like A Song of Liberty come out right around the start of the Ukranian War which they dedicated to Ukraine helped to feel connected to that fight and feeling we all have of wanting to be free.

5. Viva Las Vengeance by Panic! At the Disco

Favorite Songs: Viva Las Vengeance, Middle of a Breakup, Don’t Let the Light Go Out, God Killed Rock and Roll, All by Yourself, Do it to Death I was so excited to get a new Panic album, but I’ll admit, this one didn’t quite hook me as hard as Death of a Bachelor or Pray for the Wicked and that’s because this was trying out a new style. And I think he achieved exactly what he was going for with that fun 70s/80s classic rock sound. Most songs are a bop and fun to dance to, plus live the solos are great and his voice is better than ever. I honestly don’t know how he did it multiple nights. But I do miss some of those more punk rock sounds and lyrics though he still did those in concert too.

6. Love Ep by Jake Wesley Rogers

Favorite Songs: Call it Love, Lavender Forever, Modern Love, Hindsight Until I saw Panic in concert, I had never heard of Jake Wesley Rogers, but wow! This guy was amazing live and his aesthetic and flare reminds me of Elton John and Billy Joel, with just as rich a voice. But also because he is openly gay, his songs about his life even sometimes describing harder times are so uplifting and so inspiring that I can’t wait to follow his career. I’m also going to see him on his first headlining tour next year and can’t wait to be back in that feeling. Definitely highly recommend!

7. Let Yourself Free by Fitz and the Tantrums

Favorite Songs: Good Intentions, Sway, Let Yourself Free, Moneymaker, Good Nights, Steppin’ On Me Whenever I want a good pick me up and also a chance to just dance, I never can go wrong with Fitz and the Tantrums and this album really was a perfect addition to my music. Sway I played all summer and its catchy lyrics and sounds are always something that lifts my mood, but the whole album is meant to truly live up to its title of let yourself free, have a great time, and just have fun.

8. Paper Cuts by Mandey Harvey

Favorite Songs: Masterpiece, Bought Myself Roses, Hold on Me, Something I Can Feel, Ritual, Slow Motion I’ve followed Mandy ever since she appeared on AGT because her story was so moving and I thought that even as someone who lost her hearing, her music and her voice were still fantastic. This album not only proved that, but was uplifting because most of it was about not giving up on yourself and loving yourself no matter what is going on in your life your struggles because you are worth it. And that is absolutely beautiful and a message I think we all need sometimes.

9. Give me the Future + Dreams of the Past by Bastille

Favorite Songs: Revolution, Hope For the Future, Remind Me, Dancing in the Dark, Thelma + Louise, No Bad Days, Back to the Future, Shut Off the Lights When the first part of this album came out, Give Me the Future, I liked the vibe and the theme of the album a lot. I think Bastille does very well with this dystopian fatalistic romance vibe they have going that’s open about the terribleness of modern age and yet still understands how we all still have to live and enjoy technology. And because of that it makes you just want to run away and enjoy your life, ignore the awfulness around you to remind you there is still light in the world if you find the right people.

10. Human Overboad by James and the Shame

Favorite Songs: Believe Me, Give a Damn, Where We’re Going, Only Thing, In Vain, Fruit, Old Letters Let’s be clear, I am not a country fan and I’ve never grown up with any religion. But surprisingly, I really found this album great to listen to and I’m so fascinated by the topic of spiritual deconstruction that I felt that this expression of it was a great story and opening into someone’s life and the struggles they are going through to figure out what’s next. And especially since this is Rhett McLaughlin from GMM, I was so impressed by the seriousness of it seeing as on their show both he and Link are pretty goofy. I’m curious if he’ll do another, but really I loved this album and it’s story a lot.

Notable Mentions:

11. 22 Make by Oh Wonder 12. Elsewhere by Set if Off 13. There and Back Again by Eric Nam 14. AM Gold by Train 15. Cleanse by Joywave 16. Forever Chemicals by Quiet Hollers 17. Higher by Michael Buble

#2022 rewind #albums I listened to #music

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 2 years

Text

Eddie “The Savior” Munson

Pairing : Eddie Munson x f!reader

Synopsis: Eddie helps you get away from your ex who tried to rape you. After the police don’t listen, you end up back at Eddie’s trailer, and all he can think about is how to make you feel better and forget everything.

Word count: 9,758 (I’m not sorry)

Warnings: 18+ MDI, attempted sexual assault, violence, blood, foul language, oral sex (fem receiving) fingering (fem receiving ), friends to lovers, dirty talk, virgin reader, slight dom!Eddie, cum eating, angst, smocking, praise kink, pet names, hair pulling, good I don’t even know what else. Let me know if I need to add something.

AN: this is my first time writing fanfiction on tumbler, I tried my very, very best. I’m practically in love with this man so horny on main all day long. There will be a second part to this, I promise! Feed back is greatly appreciated 👏🏻

~~~~~~

“Jack… I have told you, time and time again, I do not want you back.” You bark, stomping through the freezing, lifeless woods away from the old picnic table and your ex boyfriend who told you he was only here to get his stuff back. A demand you were more than happy to oblige.

“No, no, no!” He yells, grabbing your arm and twisting you around, pulling you against his chest. “We are done when I say we are fucking done.” His green eyes bare into your own and his nostrils flaring with anger. A murmur of trepidation races down your spine, and you try to snatch your arm from his hand.

“Let go of me, you psycho!” You smack and shove at his chest with your free hand, doing your best to get out of his painful grip.

Jack’s other hand suddenly wraps around your throat, your terrified scream cut short as he lifts you in the air until only the tip toes of your sneakers are touching the moss covered dirt.

You grab onto his arm, struggling to breath as he draws your face to his. “You and I both know you would be absolutely nothing in this town without me. You owe me everything…” Jack’s nose bumps against your own, he drinks in the look of horror written across your face. “In fact… I know how you can repay me… right here, right now.”

Jack shoves you backwards and you crash to the ground with a thud, head smacking into the unyielding earth. Desperately you suck in lung fulls of the cold winter air, coughing uncontrollably as tears rush down your cheeks.

Then Jack is kneeling over you, greedy rough hands grabbing and tugging at your clothes as you frantically try to push him away.

“You’ve always been such a fucking tease. Always acting like you’re so perfect.”

Jack forces himself between your legs, the denim of his jeans tearing at the delicate skin of your inner thighs. Terror courses through your being, limbs flailing as you desperately try to fend him off, pleading uncontrollably with him as he stares down at you.

“Bet you’re nothing but a slut just like your mom, and sluts take what’s given to them.”

Jack’s eyes are emotionless, void of any thought other than to take what he so clearly thinks is owed to him.

“Stop! Stop!” You’re choking on your tears as you grab at his wrists, his fingers curling into the front of your sweater and ripping the white garment straight down the middle.

Something inside you tears along with the fabric, your emotions shutting off as your body kicks into autopilot, it’s only goal to free yourself from underneath Jack.

You scream, the sound so abrupt Jack pauses, giving you the split second you need to bring a knee to your chest and kick out with all your might, heel connecting with his jaw.

Jack let’s out his own scream, falling backwards as he cradles his face, twisting back and forth as the pain laces from his jaw into his head.

You scramble to your feet and run, clutching your shirt together as cold wind whips and bites at your newly exposed skin.

Barreling out of the woods you skid to a halt at the edge of the high school’s empty parking lot, today being the beginning of winter break everyone had fled the campus as soon as possible.

Though through teary eyes you spot one car at the other end..

No.. One van.

A sense of of relief breaks through your panic, a fresh wave of tears spilling down your cheeks as you watch the mop of long, curly brown hair walk out of the building and towards that run down, glorious van.

“You bitch!” Jack’s voice rips through your moment of bliss startling you into motion.

“EDDIE!” You scream like you never had before in your life, your voice thundering through the silent winter afternoon.

Eddie Munson whips around, his eyes going wide as he watches you running towards him, and not a second thought goes through his head before he is rushing at you. Meeting you half way across the parking lot he scoops you into his arms as you crumble, nearly hitting the black pavement as your legs give out.

“We- we have to go! We have to go now, Eddie, please!” You beg hysterically, grabbing onto his leather jacket and clinging to him for life, your face pressing into his chest, sobs wracking your body as you try to push him towards the van.

“Woah, Woah, (Y/N). Breath. What the fuck is going on?”

Before you can babble out another poorly put together sentence you feel Eddie stiffen, can physically feel the change in his mood and you realize Jack must of come into view.

Your head turns towards where you just fled from, your eyes landing on Jack at the edge of the trees. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, face red and contorted.

He stares straight at you, straight into the deepest part of your soul, a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth that he wipes away with the sleeve of his letterman before he turns and stalks back into the woods.

“(Y/N).” Eddie grips your shoulders, voice laced with concern, turning your focus back to him. He takes in your tear soaked face, the hand that grips your shirt together, the dirt that covers you and the leaves stuck to your usually neat hair and he knew, but he needs to hear the words. “He did this to you, didn’t he?”

You can only nod, the tone in his voice dripping pure venom making you shiver. “I’m going to ask you to do something for me. Okay?”

Another small nod. “I need you to go wait in my van.”

“Eddie please, please don’t leave me.” You choke on another sob, trembling fingers tightening into his jean vest.

“I’m not leaving you. Go get in my van, and lock the doors. You can do that for me, can’t you sweetheart?” Only he could soften his voice for you like that, even though his body is buzzing with rage, even though he was sure the moment he came across Jack he was going to beat the bastard to death.

You whimper, staring into those big doe eyes before finally nodding. “Good girl.” He kisses your forehead, squeezing you against his chest before walking away, his pace steady as he enters the woods. You stare after him for a moment, a shudder wracking your body.

~~~~~~~~~~

You sit curled up in the back of the van, one of Eddie’s loose Metallica t-shirts replaces your ripped one and you fiddle with a stray string at the hem. It stinks heavily of weed and cigarettes but you don’t mind to much, it smells like Eddie, it smells like years of comfort wrapping around you.

It couldn’t of been more than thirty minutes when a knock sounds at the door, peaking over the seat you are relieved to see Eddie standing outside, still staring in the direction of the woods.

Clambering over the seat you pop the lock on the door, scooting back as he hops in, slamming the door so hard the van shakes. Rage completely molds his features, and he is griping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white.

“I couldn’t find him… I looked fucking everywhere.”

“I-it’s okay.” Your voice is still shaking, nerves completely shot. You want nothing more than to be far, far away from this place. Reaching out a tentive hand you grip Eddie’s arm, feeling the muscles under his jacket relax. “Please, E-Eddie… let’s just go, please I want to go..” He looks at you finally and his features soften, one large ring clad hand coming up and stroking your check, his skin warm despite the air outside.

“Okay, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~

“You need to go to the police.” Wayne was home when the two of you got to Eddie’s trailer. He took one look at your battered frame and jumped out of his recliner, wearing the same ‘I’ll fucking kill him’ look that Eddie had mastered.

“Will… will they believe me?” Wayne raises an eyebrow, shooting a questioning look Eddie’s way, who returns the same look of confusion with a small shrug.

“Of course they will.”

Wayne Munson is the father figure you never had growing up. Always letting you stay over when your mother was on a bender, or a new man was in the trailer that made you uncomfortable. He happily feed you, gave you a place to sleep, and helped you through school knowing you were trying your best to set Eddie in the right direction.

You couldn’t count the number of times when you were leaving their trailer and you overheard Wayne tell Eddie. “You better keep that girl, Eds.”

Now Wayne was fulfilling that role in a different way than he thought he ever would have to.

Your mom wasn’t home for the fourth day in a row and Eddie begged you to come with him to the police station but you outright refused. Crying on your couch wanting to die then and there, shame and embarrassment flooding through you, until Eddie finally dragged you to his uncles trailer, you begging and pleading the whole way.

“They know how my mother is… will they even believe me?”

The question pains you to the core, and you feel Eddie flinch beside you, realization setting into Wayne eyes.

“We will make them.” Wayne’s warm hand grips your own, squeezing reassuringly as more tears slip down your cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” A skinny man rounds the corner, a manilla folder clasped between his hands. You stand abruptly, ripped shirt balled up in your fists. The two men stand with you, Eddie’s fingers splayed across your lower back reassuringly.

“Y-yes?”

He peaks over the folder at you, scanning you quickly before going back to reading whatever was in the folder. Most likely the statement you gave to the first officer you saw when you walked into the building, Wayne and Eddie on your heels, Eddie’s hand clasped tightly in yours for support… or to make sure you didn’t run away at the last second.

You had switched shirts at your trailer before heading to the police station. Eddie’s idea saying he didn’t want you smelling of refer walking into a building full of ‘pigs’ as he called them and you continuously smoothed the front of the simple garment, drying your sweaty hands.

“Come with me.”

Glancing back at the men, they nod their heads encouragingly, Eddie’s brown eyes holding yours a beat longer than needed, before you turn away and follow the officer down the hall. The badge on his chest reading ‘Powell’.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie’s leg is bouncing a mile a minute, shaking the bench he and his uncle sat on. Between worrying about you and the amount of cops surrounding him, his anxiety was spiked ten fold.

“She’s a strong girl, Eds. She’s got this.” Wayne grips his shoulder, the same sick feeling crawling through his guts but he wasn’t going to show it. Not when the two of you need someone with a level head. “She’s got this.” He repeats, looking up at the clock as time ticked on.

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

“I’ve told you, I met up with Jack to give him his things back. His varsity jacket, a necklace, and a few t-shirts.” The feeling of fear and embarrassment gave way to frustration and hopelessness as the minutes grew into hours and the same questions were asked, over and over again.

“Why did you have his t-shirts? You two had only been dating five months?”

A red tint creeps up your face as anger bubbles low in your chest, ears burning.

“Eight months. I’ve told you twice, Jack Miller and I dated for eight months. I took t-shirts from his house to sleep in because that is just what girls do. We have been broken up for almost two months when he asked me for his things back, which I was more than happy to give to him, then he attacked me because I refused to start dating again.”

Officer Powell nods, tapping his fingers on the grey desk, your crumpled sweater sitting in a bag a few inches from him. Fluorescent lights hum loudly above your head and a floor to ceiling mirror takes up the entirety of the wall behind him.

Walking into the interrogation room was the first time you were able to take a look at yourself, and you could only cringe at the sight.

Your light blue skirt is dirty, ripped at the bottom, and dirt covers your arms and legs. You look the definition of a mess, and avoid looking at yourself as much as possible.

“(Y/L/N)… You’re Tara (Y/L/N) little girl, aren’t you?” You nod, adverting your eyes as recognition shown in his.

The fear of not being taken seriously because of your mother’s reputation as the town whore become more and more of a reality.

“How if she doing? Hadn’t sent her here for a few months.” Your fuses blow, vision nearly tenting red.

“I am not here to talk about my mother, officer Powell. I am here to talk about the fact that Jack Miller tried to force himself upon me. Now either you do something about this or I will find someone else in this God forsaken town who can.”

The cold metal chair scraps harshly across the tiles as you stand, palms pressing into the table as you stare the older man down.

He stares at you a moment before sighing, flipping the folder closed and gathering his note book and pen, carefully stacking everything before locking eyes with you. “I will have an officer go to his house and give you a call later this week. We will see where things have gone from there, Jack Miller is a good kid though, so we are gonna need to hear every detail from his side. We don’t want someone getting locked up over some lovers fight.”

Your jaw physically drops open, chest heaving as you try to form words, any words but your mind goes blank as officer Powell stands and opens the heavy metal door for you.

“Good for nothing Pig.” Is all you can mutter as you pass by him, walking down the long hall towards where Wayne and Eddie sat.

Wayne spots you first as you round the corner, standing up and walking towards you, concern pulling his eyebrows together. Eddie was right beside him, already knowing the look on your face meant things did not go well.

“Let’s go.” Is all you can offer as you walk straight by them and out the front door, anger rolling off of you in palpable waves leaving both men shocked and confused. Eddie opens his mouth, turning to where officer Powell stands, but Wayne grabs his arm, shaking his head. The older man nearly has to drag Eddie from the station, his own anger bubbling low in his stomach.

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

Wayne has to leave for his night shift at the plant right as the three of you make it back to the trailer. But as he walks out the door he plants a fatherly kiss to the crown of your head; hugging you tightly and reassuring you it will all work out. That they will make sure it all works out. You just give him a thin smile, hugging him back and thanking him.

Once it was just you and Eddie though you break down into lung crushing sobs, burying your face into his chest as the day catches up with you, crashing into the forefront of your mind. All of the terror, pain, humiliation pummeling into you at once.

Eddie, having never dealt with anything on this level, pulls you into the small bathroom to your confusion, sitting you on the closed toilet seat.

“E-Eddie?” His name catches in your throat as you wipe at your face with the back of your hands.

“Just sit right there, princess. Give me one minute.” Eddie ducks out of the small room returning nearly as fast, a washcloth in one hand and his t-shirt in the other.

He turns on the sink faucet, the water sputtering a few times before he wringing the cloth under the warm water. Eddie squats down in front of you, wrapping one large hand around the back of your calf before wiping the rag along your knee.

You giggle breathlessly, still fighting tears, as you came to the realization that Eddie is cleaning you up.

“Yo-you don’t have to-to do that.” You whisper, but he only shoots you a look before rinsing the rag again and continuing his work.

Once both of your knees are cleaned to his satisfaction , Eddie moves to your hands and arms, being cautious around the cuts along your elbows and palms. His focus solely on you and his task at hand, his tongue sticking out slightly between his lips.

But slowly, ever so tenderly, he coaxes you into a calm state, keeping the crippling darkness away with the constant, kneading touch of his fingers.

Lastly he moves to your face and neck, moving onto his knees, his waist bumping the front of your shins, pushing them apart slightly to get closer. One hand cards into your hair to cradle your head as he washes away streaks of makeup and salty tear stains.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you let your body relax against the warm cloth and light caress of his fingers against your skin.

Eddie’s focus is trained on the column of your throat, wiping what he thought was dirt only to discover the delicate skin of your neck has been bruised. Anger swelled up inside his chest, fingers crushing the rag in his hand as he makes a silent promise to himself to kill the fucker the moment Eddie laid eyes on him again.

It takes a mighty deal of control, a great strength he didn’t know he had in him to smile up at you as your eyes crack open, to pretend nothing was wrong as you give him a shy smile. “There you go, princess.”

Eddie chucks the rag into the sink, the running water the only sound between the two of you as his hands come to rest on the tops of your exposed thighs.

His face is still so close to yours, and the way his thumb is rubbing along the skin on the inside of your thigh, brings a totally different buzzing to your veins. This close to Eddie you can make out small freckles littering his nose, a small scar just above his eyebrow you hadn’t noticed before… and you come to the shocking realization that your best friend is the prettiest man you had ever seen.

Those chocolate eyes search yours for a long moment, fingers digging into your skin subconsciously as he tries to figure out the look on your face. Tries to decipher the slight part of your lips, the way your chest rises and falls a little faster, or how you twist the end of your shirt between your slender fingers. Had you ever looked this beautiful before?

But right as you open your mouth, he clears his throat and shots up. “I’ll make us something to eat okay?” And like that he is rushing out of the room, door closing behind him leaving you in stunned silence.

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

In all your years of knowing Eddie you had never once worn his clothes, but now you couldn’t understand why.

The Metallica t-shirt is soft, hanging about your frame and brushing the middle of your thighs, and smells deliciously of him. Laundry detergent and a slight boyish musk that you associate with Eddie as much as you associate the smell of weed or cigarettes with him.

Eddie hears the bathroom door open and he pulls the StoveTop away from the flame, flicking the eye off.

“Popcorn?” He turns away from the stove and stops in his tracks. His eyes travel from your messy hair to the bottom of your feet, noting the lack of anything underneath the t-shirt.

Eddie would be a god damn lier if he said his pants didn’t feel a little tight at the sight of you only in his clothing.

“Eddie?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you had salt?” You smile sheepishly at the way his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, rubbing the top of your foot along the back of your calf.

“Oh yes… yes, yes, yes.” Eddie spins in place until he spots the salt, letting out a victorious ‘AH’ before handing it to you. “Your salt M’Lady.” He bows at his waist and you let out a chuckle, giving a slight curtsy.

“Why thank you, my knight in…” you look him over, torn black jeans and his well worn ‘Hellfire Club’ t-shirt, that the two of you had designed together adorns his slender frame. “Dark armor?”

Eddie’s chuckle is light and the smirk that crosses his lips makes your stomach clench.

“You’ve got that right princess.” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hog.” You giggle, reaching across Eddie for the nearly empty bowl of popcorn. This was the third bowl the two of you had scarfed down after Eddie rolled a few joints to share at your request two hours ago. A comedy long forgotten playing on the small TV in the corner.

The buzz running through you makes your body feel like jello, another feeling you had become accustomed to over the last five or so years. The weed helping you push today to the back of your mind, letting you focus on now, on Eddie.

“You know it.” He pushes the bowl farther away, a shit eating grin tugging at his lips, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle.

“Eddiiiie.” You whine, leaning across his lap, grabbing at his long arm as he keeps the bowl just out of reach.

Making a last ditch effort you lunge for the food, toppling across his lap, face planting the sofa as he raises it up above his head.

“Asshole.” You mumble, not bothering to move, relaxing against him. Eddie’s chuckle reverberates through his body and into your own, as he finally sits the bowl down beside your head. “Ya know it.”

Eddie bite his lip, gaze sliding from your head and catching on the pink, floral panties peaking out from underneath his t-shirt. A groan bubbles up inside him, and he can’t help himself as his lips start moving.

“Been trying to figure out how to get you across my lap all these years, princess. Wish I’d known sooner it just involved food.” Eddie’s voice is teasing, one hand coming to rest on the back of your thigh, cold rings sending goosebumps scattering across your flesh.

A deep blush starts at the base of your neck and rises into your cheeks, painting your face a lovely shade of red.

“Heh… oh yeah? Clearly you didn’t try hard enough.” You tease back, trying to keep the wobble from your voice as your body goes still, all too aware of Eddie and where his body is touching yours.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t laid across his lap before, it wasn’t like you had never curled into his chest and fallen asleep there numerous times… in fact your friends would regularly comment on the way you were always tangled up together, sitting in his lap, or Eddie playing with your hair as if the two of you were dating in secret. To which you both always scoffed and rolled eyes.

No, feeling Eddie against you wasn’t uncommon, was something you’d grown to love… But maybe it was the weed, Eddie did say it was new stuff, or maybe it was his teasing words that made his hand feel so hot, so intimate. Feel so… good.

Eddie hums softly in contemplation, fearing he was pushing things to far after today, as he rubs that same hand up and down your leg; brushing from the cup of your ass all the way to the back of your calf.

Your toes curl in response, hands gripping the rough fabric of the sofa cushion. Neither movement missing Eddie’s eyes as he squeezes the supple meat of your thigh, weighing your reaction.

Eddie thought he knew better, today was hard on you, and the last thing he wanted to do was to force you into something you didn’t want. But hidden behind the soft touches and gentlemanly acts he couldn’t help the raging lust boiling in his stomach for you.

Eddie wants nothing more in this very moment other then to make you feel good, to make you forget everything except his name, and he was silently praying to whatever or whoever was out there that was listening that you wanted to feel as good as he wanted to make you feel.

“Maybe I didn’t princess… But god you look so pretty like this, laid out across my lap. Makes me regret not trying even harder.”

Your head shoots up in shock, upper body twisting to look at Eddie’s face. He is staring down at you, brown eyes almost black, sending a shiver along your spine .

“W-what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said… you look so god damn beautiful laid out on top of me, back arched so your ass is sticking up in the air. A piece of fucking work.” Your cheeks are on fire, breathing suddenly impossible as Eddie smiles, his signature lazy half grin on his lips.

Eddie is testing the waters, feeling you out as he slips his thumb along the edge of your panties, watching your lids flutter, needing to see how far you will let him take this.

“Sh-shut up Munson.” You breath, you want to look away, want to hide your face from his intense stare but you can’t deny the little part of you wanting to hear more. “You t-tease me too much.”

Eddie fakes a pout, jutting out his bottom lip, “Do I baby? Sweet girl can’t handle a little teasing?” He’s toying with you, still sliding his thumb up and down the little bit of lace edging along the swell of your ass. You whimper slightly, fisting the cushion, almost embarrassed at how good the simple action is making you feel.

“Relax for me sweetie, just wanna make you feel better.” Eddie rubs his other hand up your arm, genuine longing dancing around in his eyes underneath the clear want.

“Eddie… we’re friends… I don’t… don’t wanna ruin that.” You struggle to get your words out, his thumb inching closer to the apex of your thighs. You close your eyes, a breathy moan catching in your throat as he finally settles his thumb atop your cloth covered clit, not moving, just resting the burning digit there.

Eddie judged every move you make, every sound leaving your throat, the delicate way your brows knit together and you draw your bottom lip between you teeth.

He can feel your slick juices coating the thin cotton and he draws in a heavy breath, commanding his body to listen to him for once and go with what you are giving him.

“That’s right baby, we are friends and I just want to help you out, friend to friend.” You crack open your eyes to see his smile still there but something was curving the edges of his lips down slightly. You know he is afraid he is over stepping, knew he was just as scared as you are to ruin what the two of you have…

“Eddie…” your eyes search his for a moment, “Want you to make me feel good Eddie.”

It takes him a moment to register your words, the silence so thick you feel it settling over the two of you.

Then Eddie is grabbing your arm, hauling you up to your knees.

Startled you grab ahold of his shoulders to steady yourself. “Edd-“

He cut you off with a kiss, his soft pink lips capturing yours shocking you for a moment before you are hungrily responding.

Your fingers clasp onto his shirt, tugging at the collar to bring him closer, wanting more of him, craving more of him as you open yourself to the kiss.

One large hand drags itself down your back to your hip, pulling you until you are straddling his lap, the other gripping the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair.

You gasp for air, breaking the kiss as his erection digs into your mound. Eddie takes the opportunity and attaches his lips to your throat, sucking and biting almost frantically, your head falling back to accommodate as deep groans leave his chest.

“Tell me if I need to stop. Tell me (Y/N) so I don’t fuck this up, tell me and I’ll pretend this never happened and go back to just being your best friend.” His voice is heavy, rich with need as he speaks against your flushed skin.

Your heart aches at his words, the realization hitting you that there is no way you could ever go back from this, that you never want to.

Cupping his face with your hands you pull away, watching his expression. Eddie looks almost pained, fingers squeezing your hips.

But you know the moment you say anything that indicates you don’t want to go any further he’ll stop. He was always putting you first.

“We aren’t just friends, are we Eddie Munson?” You whisper, searching those doe eyes for the answer you knew was there. The answer you harbored for so many years as you watched him go from girl to girl, wishing they were you and as you skipped from boy to boy wishing they were him.

“No baby. ‘M don’t think we ever were.” He smiles, his own cheeks burning red.

You lean forward at that, sealing your lips over his with a soft moan.

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

God only knows how long the two of you sat there, grinding into each other, teeth and tongues clashing as your saliva mixes. “Eddie.. mmm Eddie…” He is working a soft spot on your neck, hands pulling at your waist as you dig your fingers into his hair.

“Bed… bed now.” He mutters, grabbing your thighs and lifting you as he stands.

He damn near kicks his door down, not wanting to abandon the hickey he is leaving in a place that would be too hard for you to cover up later. Marking you over the bruises that asshole had left.

He dumps you unceremoniously onto his bed, your body bouncing once into the air before settling, the old springs groaning in protest. You laugh loudly, a giddy feeling bubbling in your chest at your sudden fall but as you relax you catch sight of Eddie once again.

Your mouth dries up.

The way he is standing over you, hair mused from your fingers, lips swollen and red makes something inside you tighten up. His expression serious, the smile that normally adorned his lips no where to be seen.

“You know how long I have dreamt of this?” His hands drop to his belt, undoing the buckle slowly, his dark eyes never leaving yours. Your thighs squeeze, subconsciously trying to give your throbbing cunt any type of release.

“D-dreamt of what E-Eddie?” You breath, lids feeling heavy as the leather slips through his belt loops, dropping to the carpet with a soft thud.

“This… you on my bed, your body covered in my hickeys.” Popping the button on his jeans he kneels between your legs, lust fluttering in stomach.

“Eddie…”

“Watching all those other guys get to hold you, touch you the way I’ve always wanted to.” Large hands slide down your thighs, pushing them apart gently, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head as he stares down at you splayed out before, every wet dream and lust filled thought he’s ever had flooding his brain.

“’S always driven me crazy.” Eddie’s words are burning through your veins, making your blood thick and heavy.

“Please…” You whisper. You want his touch, want to feel his body against yours once again. You reach up, tugging the end of his shirt and a wicked grin pulls at the muscle of his face.

Eddie coos softly, finally settling his body against yours earning a soft sigh or relief. “My sweet girl, need me that bad? Never knew you as the type to beg (Y/L/N).” He plants a firm hand on your hip, sliding it up to your chest bringing his shirt with it.

You are nearly panting, thighs squeezing his waist as you shift below him, squirming against his hand and under his steady gaze.

“Help me out here, princess.” He tugs at the shirt, indicating he wants it off and you blanch slightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m not.. I’m not wearing anything underneath it Eddie…” You admit, having left your bra waded up in your skirt in the bathroom. He bit out a groan, head dropping a bit before he caught your unsure gaze. You are going to be the death of Eddie Munson, he is sure of it.

“That’s okay sweet girl, don’t need it anyways.” He kisses you softly, tongue slipping between your lips to swipe across your own. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, fingers sliding under the end of his shirt. Your nails leaving crescent indents in the flesh of his lower back causing his hips to rock into your.

“Eddie…” You mumble against his kiss, the heat of his body making you feel light headed, the room spinning slightly.

“Yeah?” He moves to nuzzle your neck, frizzy hair tickling your skin as he covers your throat with wet open mouthed kisses.

“I… need to tell you something.” Your breath hitches as he rocks against you again, his rough jeans rubbing deliciously at your throbbing cunt.

Almost reluctantly Eddie pulls away, his cheeks pink, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. “You okay? Do we need to stop?”

Your thighs squeeze, a whimper falling from your lips at the thought of losing this high.

“Nononono. I…I just…” Eddie smiles at your rushed answer, loving the way you dig your fingers in a little harder, keeping him firmly pressed against your heated core.

“You just what?” He cocks his head, smile damn near dangerous.

“I just needed to… to tell you.” Swallowing thickly you glance away. “I’ve never done anything like this before with anyone…” You mutter hardly above a whisper making Eddie strain to hear you.

But he caught on every word.

His eyes widen a bit, hand fisting the comforter by your head as his cock twitches in his jeans.

“Never?”

You shake your head meekly, embarrassment flooding your body. Eddie smiles down at your flustered face, to many thoughts running through his head.

Dirty, bad, depraved thoughts.

Eddie is going to ruin you in every sense of the word.

Cooing softly he brushes the hair from your cheek, “Has no one ever taken care of that sweet pussy before, baby?”

Your face is a shade of red Eddie has never seen before and he is loving it, the way you are squirming below him, how your eyebrows pull together in frustration at his apparent teasing. He is eating it all up

You can’t understand how his teasing is igniting something low in your belly. You should be mad, should say something to drop his ego a rung or two… but he has your brain fogging with just his words.

“I-I’ve done stuff… before Eddie, just… not with anyone...” A lie, a very obvious lie. He only chuckles, fingers dancing along the side of your ribs making you squirm more.

“Yeah? What kinda stuff?”

You blanch, mouth falling open to defend yourself but no words follow, not wanting to admit your secret stash of romance books hidden below your bed being the only form of intimacy you’ve ever encountered.

“What kinda stuff, huh baby? Let me guess. Do you hump one of your pretty little pillows, thinking about someone’s face between your thighs? Do you finger yourself late at night? Bet you have to cover that sweet mouth of yours to keep from waking up the whole park.” Eddie can practically see your brain short circuiting, absolute shy embarrassment filling your eyes making them watery.

“Eddie…” You whine hands falling to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, adverting your gaze. You can feel your wetness spreading down your thighs, ashamed his teasing can turn you on this much.

“What baby? Hmm? Talk to me. Tell me all the dirty things you’ve done.” Eddie’s smile is all knowing and you can’t stand it anymore. Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, dragging him down for another kiss, he chuckles against your lips obeying your needy commands and kisses you deeply, gathering your body against his.

Pulling away Eddie taps a finger against your nose, making you scrunch your face. “No need to lie sweet girl, everyone has to start somewhere.”

His fingers brush the underside of your breast and your suppress a moan, biting down on your lower lip.

“Y-yeah…” is all you can manage.

Eddie nips softly at your bottom lip and you can’t help the small giggle bubbling past your lips. “I’d be more than happy to show you where to start.” Kisses begin trailing along your jaw to your ear, soft, warm, coaxing and your sigh, melting into his bed. You nod your head with a small ‘Mhm’ as you close your eyes, your hands traveling from his neck to his sides.

“I need you to say the words baby. Tell me what you want.” Eddie suddenly resumes the soft rock of his hips, causing you to suck in a breath, eyes fluttering open to look at the man above you.

“I… want you Eddie… I want you to be my first…”

“Sit up.” You let Eddie pull you, allowing him to grab the hem of the shirt you wore and tug it up over your head, discarding it somewhere in his messy room.

Instinctively you move to cover yourself but Eddie’s fingers are circling your wrists, pulling your arms up over your head as he pushes you back onto the bed.

“That’s a good girl.” He breathes, dragging his eyes over your shuddering body.

Oh fuck…

Oh FUCK!

Your face heats impossibly more at the small praise, pupils dilating and as much as you hope Eddie misses it, the sparkle in his eye says other wise.

It’s like Eddie was given the biggest gift on Christmas, his excitement palpable.

“Keep your hands right there.” He lowers his head, his hot breath falling over your breasts before he captures one budded nipple between his teeth, sucking the rose colored bud into his warm mouth.

Your body bows off the bed with a loud gasp, fingers finding his hair and tugging harshly. “Eddie!”

He pulls away, prying your hands from him and pining them to the bed next to your face much to you dismay. A high whine imitating from the back of your throat as you look up at Eddie, confused as to why he stopped.

“Didn’t I say to keep your hands here? Don’t you want to be a good girl for me and do as I say?” Eddie looks at you sternly, squeezing your wrists for emphasis.

You start panting, nodding your head frantically wanting to feel his lips again. “Y-yes Eddie… I’m sorry, please don’t stop.”

He hums his approval at your submission, the thought at the back of his head that you didn’t even know what you were doing; before bringing his attention back to your breasts, sucking and nipping one as he palms the other with a guitar calloused hand.

“Eddie… oh Eddie…” Your fingers curl into the covers, thighs clenching around his as the ache between your legs grows stronger. “Please… please Eddie.”

He smiles against your skin, loving how you’re responding so readily to his touch.

He trails kisses down your chest, peppering across your stomach to the waist band of your panties making you wither and groan.

“So beautiful. My sweet, beautiful girl.” Eddie nips and sucks at your hips, your check pressing into the sheets cooling your heated skin as you whimper louder.

Eddie’s fingers curl into the elastic, tugging them down slowly, keeping one eye on your face as he works at the skin on your abdomen. His intentions to mark you any place he could get his lips. To let the world know you belong to The Freak.

Your panties literally have to be peeled

Soon you are completely bare below him, fighting the urge to cover yourself as Eddie sits back on his heels, his lower lip caught between his teeth admiring his handiworks .

“‘S Not… Not fair.” You whisper softly, squirming as you look him up and down. He had on to many layers.

Eddie’s smile widens as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing pale skin adorned with random tattoos. “Better, princess?”

You nod, saliva pooling to the front of your mouth as Eddie pushes his black jeans down good long legs, the fabric of his boxers tented from his erection.

“I wanna taste you.” His hands grip your thighs again, cold rings biting your skin as he lies down, breath fanning over your cunt.

You close your eyes, the view alone enough to drive you towards the edge, but when Eddie ducks his head; licking one long stripe from your hole to your throbbing clit, you see stars.

“Oh god!” Eddie keeps your knees pushed apart as your thighs shake almost violently, loud mewls flying from your parted lips as he continues his assault.

It took everything in your power not to grab at his halo of brown hair as he licks one slow long stripe after another up your cunt, your walls clenching around nothing.

“Please… please let me touch you…” You whin, hips instinctively grinding up against his mouth. Needing more, body screaming for more of him.

He hums softly, the reverberation passing through your clit making you moan loader. “Sense you’ve been a good girl-“ Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence before your fingers are digging into his scalp, tugging at his soft hair to bring him closer. He smiles widely, his nose bumping against your clit as he laps at your hole. “You taste so good, so fucking sweet. Need to feel you.”

His lips seal around your throbbing clit again, one long finger circling your slick entrance before slipping in.

“Mmmm…” You jump slightly at the new feeling, toes curling and body arching, inadvertently rocking your hips to take his digit deeper.

“That’s it… Use my hand, princess. Fuck you are so tight for me.” Eddie slips in another finger, dragging them across your soaked walls, helping stretch you open for him.

“Eddie… oh God Eddie…” Something in your stomach was tightening, spreading across your stomach and down your thighs. Lewd noises fill the room from your drenched cunt making you blush deeply.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind though, he thrust his fingers in and out at a maddeningly slow pace, curling up and hitting a spongy spot deep inside that has you throwing your head back, gasping for air.

“D-don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

“Such a good girl, be my good girl and cum for me… I wanna see you cum all over my fingers baby.”

Your body obeys, gummy walls tightening around his fingers as he keeps the same pace, lips attacking your swollen clit as you erupt underneath him. Your orgasm rushes through your body so fast and hard all you can do is moan a string of his name and loud profanities, white light flashing behind your closed eyelids.

Eddie works You though the after shocks until your spasming pussy starts to becomes to sensitive. Squirming, you try to break his hold as you tug his hair. “Please… Eddie, ‘s to much…”

But all you feel is Eddie’s smile as he slips in a third finger, thrusting them in an out, curling and hitting that right spot over and over.

“You can do one more, I know you can.” Eddie’s tongue is meeting his fingers, lapping up your juices that cover his hand and rings. You whin louder as you struggle to take in another breath. That same tightness forming in your belly, as he drives you closer and closer towards another shattering orgasm.

Eddie’s free hand reaches up, rolling your nipple between two fingers as his pace picks up. Listening to the vulgar noises leaving your throat.

Eddie doesn’t care that his hand is cramping or his jaw was sore. Not when he looks up at you, head tossed back against his pillow, hair fanning around you like a crown with that beautiful fucked-dumb look scrawled across your features and he knows it is all because of him.

Your pleasure is pushing him forward, so he hunkers down, eating your pussy with a renewed vigor making you cry out.

Tears slip along your temples, catching in your hair as silent pleas of pleasure spill past your lips. Your second orgasm barrels at you, seizing ahold of you before you can think and you scream Eddie’s name.

“So tight for me, God you’re so tight for me (Y/N).” Eddie works you through your second orgasm, watching you twitch and moan, loving the tight hold you have on his hair.

Finally he slips his slick fingers from you at your hoarse voice begging him for no more as your hands fall to the bed beside you, body limp as Eddie clambers to his knees between your legs. “Look at me baby.”

It takes you a moment to comply, cracking open your eyes to see him kneeling above you, chin glistening in the low light, evidence of what just happened. Eddie brings his fingers to your lips and you look at him questioningly, managing to raise a brow.

“Open.” You submit, opening your mouth just enough for him to slip two his fingers in. You can taste yourself on his skin, hot and heady, and you let out a small moan, sucking his fingers deeper into your mouth.

“See how good you taste baby?” You nod slowly, tongue swirling around his fingers before he pulls them out with a quiet pop.

Glancing down you see a wet spot forming on his boxers, the noticeable bulge straining against the fabric.

“Wanna feel you Eddie… I need to feel you inside me.” You reach for the black material, fingers hooking into the waistband as you shyly peak up at Eddie through your lashes.

Eddie’s looks so pretty, all of his concentration locked on your fingers. His lower lip caught between his teeth, a sheen of sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead as pink dusts the apples of his cheeks.

You pull his boxers down and his cock slaps against his belly, a low groan falling from his lips as his head drops back, hands fisted at his sides. Eddie was… very well endowed as your books called it, the head of his cock swollen and angry looking, a bead of milky precum leaking from the slit.

The sudden rush of bravery leaves you.

How… how was that going to fit?

You swallow thickly, nerves setting in as you glance back at Eddie’s face. It was like he could feel your trepidation as he looks down at you.

“You say the word and we can stop, we can go back to cuddling on the couch even. You’re in control.” His voice is strained, already folding himself over so his cock isn’t right in your face.

Really, though, when you think about it you aren’t in control at all, your body sings with arousal, ever nerve buzzing with need. Eddie has you in his hands and you didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“I…” You try to calm the shaking in your voice. “I want you… just… please don’t hurt me.”

The look in your eyes nearly kills Eddie. The fear and want of reassurance clouding your vision, dulling the light that was there just moments before.

Though you yourself have never had sex, you’d heard it many times through the thin walls of your trailer. Everything always sounded so rough, so angry, and Eddie had always, always let you crawl into his bed on those nights, letting you talk out your discomfort.

Eddie leans over you now, the comforting stroke of his knuckles along your jaw bringing you back to him.

“Never, never in a million years could I ever even think of hurting you baby.” His lips brush over your, settling his body against you but not enough to crush you with his weight. Eddie eases you away from the anxiety, away from the fear clouding around your brain, with soft kisses, gently strokes of his fingers along your bare skin.

Gone was the Eddie that was relentlessly teasing you, replaced by a soft lover.

You thread your fingers through his hair, relaxing into his body as the heat between your legs begins to swell.

Soon Eddie has you moaning, breath coming in short bursts as he rubs his heavy cock along your wet folds, costing himself in your slick.

“Won’t hurt you baby… but it might get a little… uncomfortable…” Eddie whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock pressing into you.

You nod your head, lip caught between your teeth as you hike a leg up farther on his thigh. One hand falls from his hair to hold onto his shoulder, gripping tightly as he begins pressing inside.

It burns slightly, the way he is stretching your walls around his cock but even as you whimper, turning your face into his neck to hide, he is whispering praises.

“Taking me so well baby, just like that honey, breath.” Eddie works his cock in, sinking into your depth inch by inch. You let out a soft whine, tears springing to your closed eyes as he bottoms out. Giving you all the time you need to get adjusted to the feeling of being so… full.

“That’s my good girl, God you feel so good, so tight around me.” His voice is deep, rumbling through his chest as he props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at your face. You’re trembling against him, hand so tight in his hair you’re afraid you’ll rip it from his skull.

“Breath baby, gotta breath okay.” Eddie lowers his head, taking a nipple in his mouth sucking gently. You moan openly, expelling the pint up breath, pressing your head back into the pillow, your pussy clenching around Eddie’s cock. “F-fuck… gotta move... Can I move baby?”

You whimper out a pathetic ‘mhm’, releasing another breathy moan as he pulls out a few inches before sinking back in, hitting a spot deep inside that has you seeing stars. Eddie sets a slow pace at first, his lips and hands caressing over your body as you melt into him.

Timidly you begin cantering your hips against his, the pain dulling, being snuffed out by the drag of his cock along your walls.

Eddie moans above you, pressing his forehead against your collar bone. “Such a sweet little pussy baby. Look so pretty on my cock.”

Your body responds to his pornographic words by clenching around him, your fingers leaving his shoulder to explore the planes of his back, nails racking gently sending shivers scattering across his flesh.

“Eds… f-feels s’ good Eddie.” His pace is quickening, the tip of his cock bruising a spot inside you that shots lightening up your spine making your stomach clench like before. “P-please don’t stop…” you’re close to tears, your pussy still over stimulated from earlier, body trembling for an entirely different reason as Eddie slowing pries himself from your grip to sit back on his knees.

The new angle rips a moan from your chest, and you are suddenly made aware of just how loud you are being.

You try to cover your mouth as Eddie fucks into you, gripping your hips so tight you are sure you will have bruises there as well.

“N-no princess. Let me hear your voice. Moan for me baby, let… let everyone know who’s fucking you so good right now.” Eddie bats your hand away, stilling his movements until you comply with a needy whine, hand going back to the sheet.

“E-Eddie…” His name is a prayer on your tongue, falling past your lips so easily. You rock your hips into his, desperate, feral in your need for him to keep moving. Eddie chuckles lowly, pinning your hips to the bed so you can’t move.

Your head trashes from side to side, a frustrated cry leaving your lips as the orgasm you could just barely touch eludes you.

“Mmm… you want it that bad baby? Willing to fuck yourself stupid on my cock for what you want? Such a dirty, nasty little girl.”

Eddie nearly busts his load as you finally look up at him, lids heavy, eyes glossed over with euphoria. Your body is burning against his and all he can focus on is the throbbing walls of your cunt.

You don’t have to answer, his own question long forgotten as he starts fucking you again, pumping into you so hard your breasts bounce with the force. A shrill moan emanates from you, fingers twisting into the sheets as his dick slams into that same spot, over and over again.

“C-close… Eddie so close.” You grip his thighs, the fist thing you can find that’s him and not the shaking bed.

“That’s right baby cum on my cock, make a mess for me.” Eddie ghosts his fingers from your hip to your neglected clit, rubbing sloppy circles as his own release looms over him. But you had to cum first. He has to make you cum first.

Eddie can’t describe you cuming with any other word than beautiful. Pussy milking his cock as you arch off the bed, nails digging into his thighs, slack jawed with your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It’s his undoing.

A few more forceful pumps and he goes still, exploding deep inside you, painting your walls with the sticky white substance. Your brain is mush, body limply riding the aftershocks as Eddie fills you.

So full.

So fucking good.

You don’t want the feeling to end as Eddie lazily grinds into you, his seed spilling out around his cock, dripping onto the bed.

You’re both panting wildly, coming down from your collective high too stare at one another in almost disbelief.

“H-hi.” You offer up sheeple with a tired smile.

Eddie’s returns one of his own, “Hi. How do you feel?” He leans down, still seated deep inside you and gives you a peck on the lips, resting most of his weight on his elbows.

You’re tired, will most likely be sore for days to come, but more importantly you are happy. “I feel amazing, Eddie.” You answer truthfully, a gasp slipping out as you feel a gentle twitch inside you.

“Good, that’s all I strive for.” His boyish, go lucky attitude is falling back into place, a smile carving his face as he slowly pulls out of you, sitting up to see the mess he caused.

“Fucking hell…” Your conjoined cum is leaking out of you, messing his sheets as it slides along your ass. “Could look at you like this all day baby…” he swipes a finger along your sensitive, puffy lips making you whine and wiggle away as he collects the juices on his finger. “All day.”

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

Eddie returns to the perfect gentlemen as he helps you get dressed. He had gently cleaned you up with a clean cloth before helping you slip his Hellfire Club shirt on to sleep in.

“Where are my panties?”

Eddie frowns slightly as he tugs his boxers on, looking around the pit of doom that he calls a bedroom.

“Um…. Well… if we are being honest I haven’t the slightest clue.” You roll your eyes, sitting up to look yourself, expecting something so pink to stand out drastically against all the black. And nothing. You screw your eyebrows together, shuffling to the other side of the bed to peer over, coming up empty handed.

Eddie sputters, trying desperately to hold back a laugh, as you look unsuccessfully for the little scrap of clothing. You catch his eye, holding his gaze for a moment before you both are in a fit of laughter.

“I liked those Munson!” You playful swat at his chest as he crawls into the bed, pushing you down and pinning you below him. He gives you this adoring smile, eyes softening add he props himself up on his side, dragging your body against his.

“I’m sure they will turn up. One of the rats probably got it though, might come back with a few more holes than you expect but you’ll get it back.”

You scrunch your nose before wrapping an arm around his waist, pressing your face into his chest. Eddie engulfs your body with his, crushing you to him with strong arms and long legs tangling with your own.

He plants a soft kiss against your hair, fingers fiddling with the fabric of his shirt that hugs your body just right.

“(Y/N)?”

“Mhm?”

Eddie pauses for a second, fingers curling into your hair, a million things running through his head, different words, meanings, sayings. But as you tilt your head up to look at him, doe eyes and all, his brain freezes on three simple words.

“I love you…”

The smile that spreads across your face lights his own and he feels his heart swell.

“I love you Eddie Munson.”

#eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things #smut #fluff #Eddie #stranger things 4 #st4 vol2 #alternative ending #joseph quinn

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boldlyanxious · 2 years

Text

Kon, Baby

Masterlist

Marinette finds a child named Kon running away but rather than finding where he came from she decides to help him get away. She soon realizes that he is not a normal child and that she made the right decision.

Experimentation by Cadmus had forced Kon to be a child. He still remembers everything but is struggling against the childish tendencies. His best option is to find Superman to help him but instead he meets Marinette.

Supermari May: growing up

Marinette looked down at her phone to check again that she was going the right way. The brightness of the city and the careful organization of the streets in Metropolis were not enough to keep her from getting lost. She pushed the button to cross and waited. She tried not to turn at the odd noises coming up behind her. She hated the looks she got for being too aware of her surroundings but too much of her teen years were dictated by living with the constant threat of akumas. It seemed that back then, every sound of rustling and fast movement turned out to be an akuma. She couldn’t help reacting to the sounds. In this case, rather than transforming to face down an akuma, she reached out and grabbed the small child running headlong into the street without looking. Just in time as several more cars zoomed past.

The child struggled against her grip but she kept it firm on him, looking around for any sign of someone missing a child. He pulled out of her grip when the walk signal displayed. She looked around nervously. He looked about the size of a 4 year old so definitely too young to be running around on his own. She also noticed his clothing seemed odd. It was similar to a prison jumpsuit and had numbers on it. Some of the American fashion was very odd but even still, she usually recognized the styles even if it wasn’t her preferred style. She moved more quickly, trying to catch up to him. He seemed to realize she was following him right away and turned and grinned at her. He kept walking but he reached out for her hand, slowing just enough for her to catch up to him.

“Hello, my name is Marinette,” she said. “Can I help you get somewhere?”

“My name is Kon,” he said. “And I have to get away.”

She tugged at his hand slightly and he paused, looking back at her questioningly. It was then that she saw a mark on his neck with a bruise and possible marks on his arms. It looked as if he had been restrained and had struggled against it. She couldn’t imagine who would do that to such a small child. That paired with his odd clothing helped her decide she would stay with him. If he were found, she would want one hell of an explanation before she allowed someone to just take him with them. She had heard that there were sometimes awful medical experiments. She had always just hoped that it was people volunteering even out of desperation, but to use a child was too reprehensible.

“Did you have a destination in mind? I was planning on getting some lunch.”

His response was instantaneous. His eyes lit up and his stomach growled loudly. He glanced down at the sound so he didn’t see her eyes flare in anger at the thought of them not feeding him while they were doing whatever they had done to him. She kept walking on towards the place she had decided to eat for lunch today. He skipped along beside her watching the sidewalk and playing some sort of jumping game with the cracks below. She laughed along with him, lifting his arm to help him make the big jumps, even though she couldn't figure out how to play.

"There it is," Marinette said, pointing across the street.

"Yes!" Kon pumped his fist. "I'm going to eat one of everything except the desserts. I'll get 2 of those."

Marinette really hoped he was joking. She might not be able to afford all of that. She didn't tell him. She would discuss limiting how much to order at once when they were seated the table was small so that should help. When the server came around with the offerings she let Kon choose several but cautioned when the table was filling that they could choose more later if they still needed. She hadn’t had dim sum in a very long time. It reminded her of her mother’s favorite place in Paris. They had gone there for lunch every year on her mother’s birthday. They might gather with friends for treats in the evening but for lunch that day it was just her and Marinette. She missed her today. She called her for her birthday but it just wasn’t the same. She would have to find a way to get her mother to visit and bring her here. She had been planning to go home soon but the trip was delayed. That made everything feel a little more poignant.

Kon was bouncing around after his first few minutes of eating. She called the server over a third time to pick some plates for him. He only chose 2 more so Marinette was relieved. She asked to see the desserts next. He would definitely make room for dessert. She let him finish the last ones on his own so she could have a sweet one herself. She was definitely starting to feel full. She suspected he was as well. He was eating much more slowly now. At the beginning, she was certain that he hadn’t tasted anything but now he was savoring more. His eyes got really big when the sweets arrived though. He grabbed one and she did as well, as the server was moving away, he reached over to take one more. She smiled but pretended not to see him sneaking.

—-

Now, she wanted to find him some different clothes. They couldn’t be comfortable but she decided it could wait when he found a playground and seemed so excited to run around and play. She sat nearby and pulled out her pocket sketch pad to make some cute little boy designs. She was checking regularly and he seemed to be having a great time. He was climbing up to the top and sliding down. She almost had a heart attack when he climbed up the top of the tall twisty tube slide. He made it to the top and then leapt over it startling a smaller child who then laughed and watched him in awe as he ran around ignoring any concern for his own safety.

Marinette could have sworn that he was growing before her eyes. She had been certain that the other child would be the same size as Kon, but he was definitely bigger. It was probably too far away for her to get a good view. She waved as he looked back over to make sure she was watching him. He was delighted by everything. He joined a group of boys a few years older and ran off with them to play ball. She couldn’t see as well but he was still having fun. She didn’t worry again until they ran for a large tree. But she was left with no time to react as he quickly moved from the ground to the high branches. The other kids couldn’t even keep up. One girl who was a bit shorter and lighter seemed to do pretty well. Eventually they all climbed down and the crowd started to dwindle.

Kon ran up to Marinette after telling all his new friends bye. She tried not to let him see her frown but he definitely seemed taller. Not just taller. He was filled out. The jumpsuit was practically tight and the bottom left his ankles visible. His face still looked like a small child but if she tilted her head, she could see the older boy becoming visible. She tried to remember how he had looked before. She had heard children grow like weeds but she could not imagine that a child could visibly change very much over an hour. He grabbed her hand and dragged her along, he was definitely stronger too.

“Let’s get ice cream,” he exclaimed.

“How can you still be hungry?” she laughed, but pointed to a stand set up nearby.

“How tall do you think they can stack the scoops? I could probably eat 7.”

“I don’t know about 7. How about 3 and then we can find you some better fitting clothes.”

He frowned but then raced forward as the line moved. They made their order and he begged for a huge swirl of whipped cream on his. Even with all that he was finishing the last of his cone before Marinette finished her single scoop. She dug through her bag and found a granola bar to hand him before he could suggest she offer up the rest of her ice cream. It he was that hungry, they might have to get him food again soon but clothes were more pressing. She could swear that they were getting tighter and shorter by the minute.

She actually didn’t know any of the clothing shops for children. She usually made her own clothes and supplemented them with a few signature pieces to give a little flair if she needed. But they lucked out and passed by one. It looked like cute clothes but she made sure to get them a bit loose and stretchy. She thought she might have been imagining it at first, but he was halfway to her shoulders by the time they arrived at the shop. She was certain that it had to do with the testing that had been done on him. She was thinking back to when they originally met and he had definitely been acting like a young child. Now when they walked out he wasn’t playing the jumping game on the sidewalk. He walked beside her and complained about wanting food. But at least his clothes fit.

She was trying to decide if she should ask him more about what he knew about the research place but she didn’t want to upset him. She was lost in her head and not really listen to him talking about all the foods he could eat right now. The sun was still shining brightly in the sky and she mostly wanted to find some place cooler. But she was distracted by something in the window and she stopped to stare. It was a stunning dress that looked like a glittering night sky. Definitely the type of piece that she would pay for if she didn’t want to spend countless hours making a dress for herself. She was lost in thinking about it, she even had a formal event coming up that it would be useful for.

“You have to try that on. I will sit still and not complain," he promised.

“I really shouldn’t. I am not sure it is the best idea right now.”

“You will never know if you don’t try it on,” he said, pushing her towards the door. “Please, I want to see it.”

Marinette didn’t want to say no to his pleading eyes and she really liked the dress so she gave in rather easily. She had never been to this particular boutique before but she wondered if she might talk to them at some point about offering her designs. Much of her work would definitely fit with the range of products they offered. Kon made himself at home and laid out of the cushioned bench while the attendant brought her the dress in the right size. When she put it on, she wished that she hadn’t. It was absolutely perfect but she had already asked about the price. It was definitely more than she should pay right now, especially not knowing what would be happening with the child she had at least temporarily acquired who seemed to be able to eat endlessly.

“How long does it take?” he pounded on the door. “You have to show me too.”

She stepped outside and he gasped. “You have to get that right. It looks so good on you.”

“I’m not sure. It’s nice but I could probably make something to suit my needs.”

“If I had money, I would buy it for you,” he said. “You look like a princess. You are so pretty.”

She reached out and ruffled his hair. She smiled, covering her embarrassment. “You are sweet. I’m sure I can always come back if I change my mind.”

“You would have to do that soon,” the attendant said. “I think we will be out of this one by the end of the week. It’s a limited run.”

“I will check the dressing expectations of the event this evening. I hadn’t even intended to shop today but I passed by the window and there it was.”

“But you can save it, right?” the boy asked. “Maybe just one, through tomorrow?”

“I’ll misplace it in the back, just in case,” she winked conspiratorially at Kon.

—

Marinette sighed but gave in, completely ignoring her budget for a typical day out. She ordered the family platter of tacos but she expected that Kon would eat most of that. There was definitely something happening. He was back to speed eating again. She laughed at him as he crammed an entire taco in his mouth and ended up dumping hers down the front of her shirt. She was impressed that he managed not to spit his out as much as he was laughing at her. This was her own fault for taking in a child. Of course when she had done so he seemed more like a toddler but now he looked ready to borrow the car for a night out with friends. She huffed and moved towards the bathroom to clean up. She hoped there would be food left when she got back.

She stopped at the counter when she saw that they had a few shirts available. They sold merchandise for the local heroes. She didn’t know whether it was just part of the business model or if the heroes had helped out here but she got the Superboy one in her size. She always liked the red and black since she had worn the colors as a teen hero. It always made her a bit nostalgic even though she couldn’t claim to miss her time lying to everyone so she could fight evil with magic. She did what she could for her other shirt and then headed back out to the table where there was a man in a suit and glasses talking to Kon.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Marinette asked, forcing herself between the man and Kon as a barrier.

“No, I was just checking on Kon. I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks but I see he is here with you,” the man said.

His eyes dropped up and down over Marinette but she got the sense that rather than appreciating her as a woman that he was checking her to see if she was a risk. She glanced back at Kon. He could no longer be called a child. Even the clothes bought very loose were becoming tight again. She had been right about the food. It was all gone. The sun was shining in the window and it was like she was seeing him for the first time. And she was. At least up close. She had definitely seen pictures of him before. The man reached out his hand.

“I’m Clark Kent,” he said.

“I’m Marinette,” she responded.

“He is a good guy Marinette. He would have been my first choice to have found me if it hadn’t been you.”

“So something did happen to you?” Clark asked.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was Cadmus, but we shouldn’t talk about that here.”

Clark nodded and walked away. Marinette could see him waiting outside. She took a moment to look at the man sitting before her.

“You aren’t a child then? You never were, at least not today.” she asked. “You are actually an adult with some sort of magical effects?”

“Not really magical. Scientific experiments to control me. But it could be magical, seeing a peek of what our children might look like in the future.”

“You’re Superboy,” she said. “That probably makes sense. I didn’t recognize you when you looked like you were 4.”

“Took a lot for them to make me a boy.” he lifted his hand and pushed the hair back from her face. “You are definitely super. Not many would help a child escape what would probably have looked like loving parents.”

“I had a feeling about you. That you needed help,” she said softly. “So what now?”

“Now you give me your number so I can find you again after I update those on my team about the situation.” He placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered next to her ear. “But I am definitely never going to get the image of you wearing my merch out of my head.”

Marenette looked down as she blushed and held out her unlocked phone to him so he could put his number in. “I’ll text you right away so you can let me know when things are wrapped up. I look forward to seeing you again.”

He nodded and walked out to give Clark an update about all he knew about their experiments. He would explain how they had used the flaws in his cloning to make him young rather than just incapacitate him. But first he wanted to go buy a dress.

Taglist

@adrestar | @zynna | @jeminiikrystal

@technicallyburninggarden | @iloontjeboontje | @certainmuffinbagelcalzone

#supermari may 2022 #konette #de aged #meet cute #boldlyanxious #marikon

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