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peachesofteal · 1 year ago

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Dead Disco / Chapter 10

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Relationship issues, anxiety, self loathing, crying. Angst. Brief mention of asshole ex. Eating related issues. Mention of prescription medication, mental illness and depressive/manic episodes. Pre established throuple. Darling is her/your own tag/warning. Excessive internal monologue. You held onto the hot pan too long, and now you’ve been burnt.

"Look at me."

"I can't." You keep your eyes clenched tight, so tight it hurts, lungs burning inside your chest.

"Yes you can, darling. Just open your eyes." Simon's voice is soft, an entreating melody, grit and gravel smoothed out with the gentleness of his words. You get lost in it, the soft murmuring, the easy request, and when you open your eyes, he's still right in front of you, thick palm on the back of your neck, Johnny by his side. "Good girl."

"I'm sorry." You whisper, and Johnny's brows crease, his fingers brushing along your cheek.

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for, darling. Ye never do."

"I didn't-" you gasp for a breath, and Johnny shifts, moving so that you're in front of him, sat between his legs, back against his chest. His hand holds yours, nestling above your breastbone.

"Breathe with me. Ye can do it."

"I didn't- I wanted to be better. Be different. I didn't want you to see." You try to explain, try to make sense of it for them. Simon's fingers intertwine with Johnny's, his other hand still firm on the back of your neck, your body cradled between them, in the space that once never existed, a space that now feels like it's been carved out just for you. Johnny pushes closer, holding you tight, and Simon leans forward, forehead touching yours, voice barely a murmur.

"We've always seen you, darling."

The floor is a fairly comfortable spot to lay.

It’s comfortable enough, you suppose, as you lay on your back with your eyes fixed on a spot along the ten-foot-high ceiling. Maybe you could paint the ceiling. With clouds. Or a night sky. That might be cool.

Voices vibrate through the flat, locked door the only thing separating you from them, Johnny’s tone pitching with increasing anxiety, Simon’s cadence soothing, and calm.

He’s calling your name. Calling you darling. Calling you anything to try to get you to come to the door.

You’re overreacting.

You’re a fool.

You close your eyes. A night sky might be cool. You could do a lot with the stars, or maybe even the milky way. Get some greens and greys and cobalt in there. Make it look like a long exposure photo. And the moon, you could certainly paint the moon. You’d have to find a ladder tall enough though. And you’d probably need help. You haven’t painted from a ladder in years, not since you did that one mural for-

“Darling.” It’s Simon. Again. And again, and again, again. Darling, darling, darling. “It’s getting late. Will you open the door?" You keep your eyes closed, but for a minute, your mind fractures, splitting in two, confusing emotions and thoughts bubbling up to the surface.

Don’t think about it. Don’t.

“No.” You croak out in a whisper. It’s quiet, but he hears it. You know he does.

“Please. I need to know you’re alright, at least.”

You held onto the hot pan too long, and now you’ve been burnt.

It’s late. The streets are probably mostly empty. You could run down them, if you wanted. You could take a train anywhere. You could take a plane, even, go on a vacation. Go somewhere nice. Go somewhere tropical, maybe get a cute rental, spend some time in the sun or by the oc-

The thoughts are rapid fire. They spill over, trying to patch up the expanding wound in your heart. They grow and twist, convincing you it’s a good idea, the best idea, to just slip away for a little bit. To go somewhere you don't have feel this, where you don't have to know this as well as you do.

Don’t think about it. Pack it up. Put it away.

Johnny’s eyes haven’t left your face. His fingers stroke from the crown of your head and hairline to your temple, your cheek. He’s staring at you like you’re something precious, like you’re a piece of gold, something marvelous he’s never seen before.

“What is it?” You ask, half asleep, drowsy in the bed. You’re still wrapped in a post orgasm haze, cocooned in the soft and sweet of their attention, affection, and Johnny only smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead.

“Ye’re so special to us. Ah love ye. Did ye know that?” You shrug, ducking your face away, pressing it into his shoulder to avoid his eyes.

A wave of longing crashes over you. It swells in your heart until tears prick in your eyes, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

It’s so much. So much more than you ever imagined. So much more than you ever thought you could have.

“She doesn’t.” Simon says over your shoulder. His hand sits on your waist, the touch firm. Grounding. Like a tether to their world. Their love. You turn, nose pointing up towards the ceiling, looking at him through your peripheral, your fingers intertwined with Johnny’s, holding onto them both. Seeing them both.

“Tell me again.”

The TV in the living room is on.

You can hear it’s faint murmur, some movie playing on low volume, the guys undoubtedly sitting stiff on the couch, waiting for you to appear.

You stare at the dark, nearly blackened trees that you’ve painted onto canvas, long, broad brushstrokes taking up too much space, bark texturized to appear burnt, nearly dead, forest scourged by a disease or fire, you’re unsure.

“It starts to chafe us.” Us. Us, he said. Us. Him and Johnny. Right?

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

You’re unsure of everything right now. Unsure about how you should feel. Unsure about what’s happening inside your head.

“-sometimes I worry… about it being the right thing��” The more you think about it, the more you start to lose your grasp. Were those his exact words? Did he mean something else?

For the first time in a long time, you think about one of your ex's. You think about a person who made you feel so small, so much like a burden, a horrible, unwanted responsibility, all the time. You'll never have what regular people have, he said. No one will ever be able to put up with this fucking circus. No one will want this.

Was he right?

You should have gotten out. The sentiment replays over and over in between your ears, the awful, miserable doubt and fear and sadness picking away at you until you can feel yourself starting to compartmentalize it all, trying to sort it into neat little bins, trying to keep the weight that is sinking to the bottom of your soul from drowning you, trying to build a wall around your heart.

It’s not conscious. It’s like you’re not even in the driver’s seat anymore, not feeling the full effect of your emotions, not letting it in.

It’s how you felt, when you packed your bags the last time. How you felt when you checked into the hotel, like you were on autopilot. Buried beneath a mountain of feelings but enclosed in a glass cage, segregated from it all.

You should have gotten out.

“I said I was listening.”

“But I don’t want ye to listen. I want ye to talk, darling. I want ye to tell us how ye’re feeling. We can’t do this if ye’re not able to communicate.” Johnny’s voice is steady, but there’s a hint of anger behind it, a small flare just starting to light. It makes you angry, that he’s getting angry, and it churns in your stomach until you’re biting out a retort.

“I communicate just fine!”

“Do ye?” He snaps, exasperated, your head jolting backwards with wide eyes. “Because from where I’m standin’ it feels like ye’re trying to be stubborn on purpose. Like a child.”

“A child? You’re calling ME a child?” The air in their apartment is suddenly paper thin, and you hold your breath as Johnny watches you with that same, unchanged, irritated expression.

“Alright. This is over. We’re taking a break from this conversation.” Simon tells you both, fingers sliding over your shoulder, the touch meant to comfort, reassure, but you jerk away.

You eye your purse, your keys on the counter.

“I’m just gonna go home.”

“No.” He rebukes, and Johnny pales.

“No, darling. Ye just got here, and we missed ye so, so much. I’m sorry, I dinnae mean-” Johnny pleads, crestfallen, and it makes you feel worse. Like you’re failing him. Like you’re failing at this. Like you’re not good enough for it, for them. “Please?” He adds, and you wilt, silence falling over the three of you again, awkward and wrong.

“It’s alright.” Simon says. “If you want to go. I’ll take you home.”

“I can get home on my own.” You try not look at him, finding mundane details in the floor, the sink to stare at instead of their faces, resisting eye contact until Simon steps directly back into your line of sight.

“I’ll take you.” He steps closer, and like there is a magnet pulling you into his orbit, you respond, tilting your face backwards, letting him see everything. The tears. The anger and sadness. The confusion. He’s intentional with his movements, letting you anticipate everything, the movement of his hand, the bend of his body as his lips come down to press against your forehead. “Tomorrow, alright?” He asks and tells with the words, seeking permission, giving command. Tomorrow, you’ll talk. Tomorrow, you’ll get it sorted. Tomorrow, you and Johnny will apologize. And you’ll try again. Like you always do.

You nod, because the promise of tomorrow, the assurance that this hasn’t all come crashing down, is the only way any of you will be able to sleep tonight.

“Tomorrow.”

They both straighten on the couch when the door clicks open.

“Hey.” Johnny says softly, hopefully, and Simon says nothing, just watches you like you’re a wounded animal that might try to flee at any moment. On edge. Vigilant.

Your mind turns, but nothing comes out of your mouth. No response. No acknowledgement. Just empty silence that feels like a thousand pounds, all laying on top of the three of you. Suffocating you. Killing you.

You beeline for the bedroom.

Running away. You’re running away. Are you really going to run away?

The memory of the hotel haunts you, the awful, empty pit in your stomach that could have swallowed you whole, the dark curtains and dark room enveloping you in a never-ending spiral.

All you wanted was to be found. All you wanted was to be home, with them.

All you wanted was your home, the one you built, made, suffered for, with them. The one that you carved out inside your own bones to hold space for two others, not just one. The home that you completely changed your life for, the love that you believed would see you through it all.

The love that was always them first. The love that you barged in on, knocked walls down, forced yourself inside of. The love that they held for one another, before they ever held it for you.

Your head feels like it's underwater.

Did you make a mistake? Should you have sent them away that time? Should you have fought yourself harder?

The bed calls to you. It begs you to lay down in it, to burrow yourself beneath it's soft sheets, curl up on top of it's ridiculous mattress. Get lost in it. Be found in it. Let your boys curl themselves around you in it, let them kiss you softly and make you promises about how much they love you, or how they understand the way you feel.

If you close your eyes, you can almost see the future. Minutes would pass before Johnny crept inside the door, scoping it out. Doing the recon. Looking for you. His heart would soar when he saw you in the bed, his fears allayed, and he'd hold you so tight you'd think you were suffocating.

If you were lucky, Simon would come and turn your brain off. Johnny would pass you to him and he'd bring your deepest insecurities, your worries to light, dragging them out to be exorcised and vanquished, by the only men capable of doing so.

Is that what you want?

Should you have gotten out?

“There she is.” Johnny coos above you, warm palm cradling your cheek. You blink, fog encasing your mind struggling to clear, and you push yourself up onto your elbows.

“What-“

“Happened?” Simon finishes from where he kneels next to the couch, concerned eyes trained on yours, not missing a beat.

You blink. What did happen? Did-

“When was the last time ye ate something, darling?” Johnny asks, not unkindly, palm at your back to relieve the pressure from your elbows, moving you into a sitting position so he can take the spot on the couch behind you, effectively wrapping you up in his arms as Simon settles on the other side.

Shame curdles your stomach, hot embarrassment flaring in your veins. You avoid peering over Simon’s shoulder at the disarray of your kitchen, wincing when you realize he’s sitting on a pile of your dirty clothes.

“I had breakfast.” You whisper, but Simon shakes his head.

“When?”

“Yesterday.” You try to adjust, to sit more upright, but the sudden movement has your head spinning, and your palm covers your eyes, little groan in your throat.

“Easy.” Johnny soothes. Your water bottle is in his hand, and he unscrews the lid for you, lifting it to your lips. “Slow sips, darling. Not too much.”

It’s easier this way, you realize. Easier to do what’s being asked of you, easier to listen than to think. After a few sips, Johnny pulls the bottle away, and wide fingers stroke your cheek.

“This is what you were talking about. A few weeks ago.” Simon murmurs, concentrating all his focus, all his attention, on you, fingers still caressing your skin gently. Lovingly.

“I didn’t mean for it to get so bad this time. I… usually have a better handle on myself.” You try to lie, but Simon cocks his head.

“Do you?” His fingers hold up the scrap of paper, the one with your note to yourself scrawled across it.

‘You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.’

You bite your lip, but Simon’s thumb presses into it, rolling it out from beneath your teeth, as Johnny rubs your arm, lips soft against your temple.

“I’m going to take you home. To ours.” Simon tells you slowly, each word deliberate “Johnny is going to clean up your apartment and pack you a few things for the rest of the week.” When you don’t answer, brain slow to catch up, Johnny murmurs in your hair.

“You have to agree, darling.” Simon watches, silent for a moment before he answers the unspoken question, still cradling your face with one hand.

“You can trust us.”

“Where are ye going?” Johnny asks when you appear from the bedroom, hesitant steps keeping him far enough from your body, desperation written all over his face.

“Out.” Your answer is short, sufficient. It feels like it’s coming from another person. You still think you might be underwater.

“Out? No… we need to talk and-“

“I don’t want to talk. To either of you.”

“Darling. Stop.” Simon tries to cut you off, but you turn sharply, away from them both, backpack swinging on your back.

“Ye canae run away from this, from us.” Johnny pleads. “We need to talk about it. Communicate. Like we promised.”

“Like we promised?” You hiss, sizzle of anger breaking through the ice that’s frozen in your veins. “The promise that we made to always tell each other how we’re feeling, the one that he can’t honor?” You jerk your thumb towards Simon, who tries to take a step towards you, only for you to retreat. “Don’t corner me!” you snap, and against your attempt at control, your voice breaks, sob welling in your chest.

Don’t think about it.

“It’s alright.” His hands are palms out, cautious. It’s supposed to make him look like he’s not a threat, make him seem harmless. But he’s not harmless. This gaping hole in your heart says so. “We don’t want you to leave.” He implores. “Please. I- let me explain.”

“There’s no need. Everything is pretty clear.”

“No, it’s not.” Johnny argues. “Just, let Simon at least tell-“

“Tell me what? Tell me how it’s not fair? Does it chafe you too, Johnny? You also thinking what’s the right thing? Because it’s an us thing, right? You and him. It’s an us and me. It’s the us that I suffer for.” Your voice crests, and Johnny flinches.

“I made a mistake.” Simon whispers. “Don’t let my stupidity make you question your place in this relationship. We love you, darling. I love you.” Tears burn at the back of your eyes, and you feel the horror of the truth, the confusion about your love for them, their love for you, searing together into a snarled mess.

“If I left you, the both of you, at the end of the day, you’d still have each other. You’d still be together, and I would have nothing!”

“That’s not true. We canae exist without ye.” Johnny sounds broken, hopeless, but you blow by it, dancing around Simon to pull your prescription bottles from the kitchen cabinet by the sink.

“If I died tomorrow-“

“Do not say that.” Simon cuts you off. “Don’t ever say that.” His knuckles are white at the edge of the countertop, expression stricken, and Johnny looks horrified. They both watch you like they’re afraid of what you might say next, what you might do, and nausea pools saliva on the back of your tongue.

Don’t think about it.

You close your eyes, and search for that underwater feeling. That untouchable feeling, the boxes being packed away in your mind, and try to cling to it, try to shut up the incessant stream of doubt and loathing and everything going wrong inside your head.

They don’t need you. They have each other.

You chafe them.

Don’t think about it.

“I need…” You trail off, trying to take a deep breath. Trying to organize your thoughts. Trying to hear yourself through the noise of everything else, through the searing pain that’s ripping through your heart.

“It’s alright, darling.” Simon murmurs, encouraging you. “Tell us what you need. Whatever it is.” Johnny’s face has shifted from despondent to hopeful, eyes wide and locked onto yours, while Simon waits, his normal steadfast and patient demeanor nowhere to be found, instead he’s more anxious, more nervous than you’ve ever seen.

You close your eyes again. Your voice shakes when you finally speak.

“I need a break.”

#dead disco #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #female reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghoap

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lafrexniere · 3 months ago

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It was and is You - CL16 - part 1.

Note: First of an idea I had after Monza today, and didn't realize how long this would end up so it's going to be in three parts!

You had just gotten back from a run, feeling messages vibrating on your watch the whole time. When you arrived to the front of your apartment building you took a breath before stepping inside and looking through your phone. It was your three best friends in your group chat together discussing some vacation plan for you four to go on.

Mila: We have to do this pleaseeeee

Allie: Italy sounds fun

Liv: Okay I’m in, where’s Y/N

There was some discussion about seeing some sporting event in Italy, and if Mila was organizing it was definitely racing. It was offseason for the four of you, and training was getting a little exhausting, the four of you needed a nice break from running, cycling and swimming in Switzerland, and it wasn’t skiing season. You had exhausted all of your summer activities.

You: I’m going, definitely!

The four of you got on a call and booked your hotel rooms, and figured out splitting up the cost of the rental car and tickets for the weekend. It was Wednesday and you had to be there by Friday. You planned to leave tomorrow afternoon and arrive at the Hotel thursday night, you would split up the driving between you and Liv as you two were the ones not as into this F1 thing.

Thursday morning came and the four of you met at the rental car center.

“Ahh there you are!” Mila exclaimed, pulling you all into one big group hug.

“To Monza!” Allie shouted throwing her fist in the air. You and Liv laughed at their excitement.

“I brought you two something,” she grinned at you and Liv. She pulled two red hats out of her purse and handed one to both of you.

“You both packed red right?” Allie said sternly.

“Yes of course,” you nodded.

“Yeah we got your thousand messages,” Liv rolled her eyes. The four of you explored the parking lot finding your car and loading it up with your bags.

“Do you want first shift?” Liv asked you.

“They are gonna be screaming the whole way either way, but sure” you smiled. You hopped in the car plugging the address of the hotel you had booked into the GPS system and were on your way. After a long way of driving hearing blah blah blah with the occasional giggle and squeal it was finally your turn to take a break and not get distracted by the stuff going on in the backseat.

“So this whole race thing, why is it three days?” you asked. You shouldn’t have asked because it became a whole big long talk, you heard this and that about this person and a lot of mentions of Ferrari.

“Oh Y/N you are going to love it!” Allie said.

“Sounds fun,” you said putting the hat you were given on.

“And that’s where it stays,” said Mila cheering. You four continued the rest of your ride and finally after many karaoke songs later you had finally arrived at the Hotel. You four had gone up to your respective rooms and spent the night hanging out in Mila and Allie’s room. They were trying their best to educate you on the race and what was going to be happening during the weekend. You would be seeing a practice, qualifying, and the actual race itself. It was pretty easy to follow along with the more they explained, you even thought you would be able to talk about someone with it if they asked you, however you still knew nothing about the specific race or Ferrari. It was getting late and you and Liv went to your room.

Friday

You woke up early the next morning, before Liv, before Mila or Allie. You went to the elevator and went down to the lobby to get some coffee to clear your early morning headache. You were alone, somewhat sleepy in the elevator when it dinged and stopped. A man joined you in the elevator, there was something familiar about him. You exchanged a smile noticing that he was your type. You two stood awkwardly in the elevator until he broke the silence.

“Nice hat,” he said.

“Oh thank you, it’s Ferrari,” you smiled before realizing the same logo was on his shirt, “sorry you know that already,” you laughed.

“You going to the race?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s my first one, can you tell?”

“Maybe,” he laughed.

“My friends pulled me into it for this weekend,”

“Well I’m sure you’ll have fun.” The elevator dinged and you were in the lobby.

“Are you going too?” you said walking out beside him. He nodded.

“I’m getting coffee do you want one,” he asked.

“Sure,” the two of you sat down, he pulled the shirt he was holding on over his other shirt, and putting the hat he was carrying on as well.

“What’s that for?” you asked.

“Oh nothing, maybe you’ll see?” he smiled. He began asking you some questions about yourself, but when you asked about him he gave vague answers.You knew one thing, his name, Charles. He realized the time and had to go after your conversation.

“Will I see you at practice today?” you smiled.

“Definitely,” he said rushing out of the hotel. You waved with a half smile at his abrupt leaving. You had felt that there was at least a little chemistry, but were also attracted to the mystery of him. You finished your cup of coffee and headed back up to your room, finding Liv, Mila, and Allie all waiting.

“There you are Y/N, I was worried you had wandered off,” Liv said as you got back.

“Aww your wearing your hat, good,” Mila said.

“We would have been able to find you,” Allie said.

“Relax I was just getting some coffee with this guy I met in the elevator,” you shrugged trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Guy, what guy?” Liv asked, as you began getting bombarded with a million questions that you couldn’t answer, you could only give his name.

“No way, like Charles Leclerc,” Mila squealed.

“Who?” You asked.

“Oh my god you’ll see today, he’s so dreamy, Y/N if it was him you have to tell us, we have to meet him,” Allie chimed in.

“Omg stop, there gonna be delusional now,” Liv laughed. The four of you continued getting ready sporting your red hats. You had chosen a black skirt with a white tube top, and a sweatshirt just incase there was a breeze. The four of you were all somewhat matching and were off on your way to the track. You found your seats and there was cheering surrounding you as different drivers came on and off the track. There were screens lighting up showing you the parts of the track you couldn’t see from their seats.

“Wow they are fast, they didn’t look this fast in the videos,” Liv yelled over all the noise.

“Isn’t it cool,” Mila yelled back. You all nodded and tried your best to communicate with eachother. Practice had finished and you and your friends rushed down to some spot where you could possibly see the drivers. Mila and Allie wanted their hats signed. As drivers started rolling out you saw him, the same brooding eyes and dark hair from the morning, he noticed you in the crowd smiling at your screaming friends through the fence, Liv even took her hat off and started waiving it at him when she saw him. He came over and signed the three hats, asking Mila,

“Come on your friend doesn’t want her hat signed,” he smiled at you. You thought she was going to faint after he talked to her.

“Come on Y/N, hand it over,” she yelled at you. You took your hat off and handed it to Charles through the fence. Within a second he was done signing there’s but yours he took a bit longer on. He handed the hat back to you and winked.

“See you tomorrow - CL16” was written on the hat followed by a phone number. Your friends swarmed you trying to get a glimpse of what was on your hat, but you hid it quickly until you got back to the hotel.

“Y/N Please,” they all begged and pleaded.

“Fine, but none of you can take the number,” you gave a strong look.

“Number?” Mila screamed. You turned the hat to show them what was written filling all of them with shock. You quickly turned it back after it had been almost enough time for them to memorize the number.

“So are you getting coffee again,” Allie asked.

“I don’t know, honestly, but now I know why he was being so secretive,” you shrugged.

“Well you have to text him now,” Liv nudged you.

“I know I know,” you said hitting the air, to brush it off. The two of you talked about this the rest of your night, but made sure to kept your voices down in public. As the day was coming to a close you sent him a message

You: Coffee again?

Charles: Same time?

You: Perfect

Charles: It’s a date 😊

You drifted off to sleep smiling about what was waiting ahead of you the next day.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #monza gp 2024 #ferrari #ferrari f1

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upsidedownwithsteve · 6 months ago

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Dad Steve in the summer bringing his nugget(s) and you to the beach 💗

dad!steve harrington x fem!reader

The car kept in the sticky heat in a way that Indiana never did. Boneyard Beach in Charleston, South Carolina was a mere forty minute drive from Hopper and Joyce’s new home, but the journey felt too long behind the wheel of the rental car.

Steve was pink in the cheeks by the time he parked in the sandy lot, his hair wild from the rolled down windows but at the sight of the ocean, he turned to you and grinned.

“It’s so blue,” you exclaimed, hands clasped together under your chin and you were almost frantic as you tugged off your seatbelt and opened the door. “Look, baby! Can you see the waves, huh?”

From behind your chair, your toddler clapped her hands, completely too young to understand what you’d asked her, but Margot gurgled happily all the same. Almost two years old and with curls as wild as her dad’s, she shared your eyes and Steve’s pouty, pink lips.

Steve managed to contain his grin as he gathered the bags and blanket from the trunk, eyes soft behind his sunglasses as he watched you gather your daughter from her seat and into your arms. She was still sticky with sunscreen, chubby little arms clinging to yours as you attempted to pop a sun hat on her head, much to Margot’s dismay.

Steve did his best to wrangle the bags into one hand in order to curl his free arm around both of you as you made your way from tarmac to sand, the pearly white grains of it making the vacation feeling come to life. The sky over the water was blue, cloudless, the ocean relatively calm and the beach quiet. There were a few families relaxing on the sand on bright towels, a couple and their dog a few miles down, throwing an orange frisbee into the shallows.

And once you found the spot you wanted, partly in the shade of some palm trees for Margot’s sake, you set her down on the blanket between your legs and let Steve tug off her tiny sandals, cooing at her the whole time as her daddy grasped her tiny hands in his own and let her experience sand for the first time.

She was unsure at first, babbles turning to whines as she stamped her little feet into the cool hills of it, brows scrunched as she stared up at her dad warily.

“I don’t think she likes it, babe,” Steve snorted, grinning at you and looking too pretty while he did so, with red swim trunks and his shirt off, freckled shoulders already turning tan under the summer sun. “Wanna try the water instead, Margot, yeah? Daddy’s gonna find you the prettiest seashell on the beach, how ‘bout that, princess?”

Your heart ached as Steve scooped your baby up, her fingers flying for his hair like always, grasping onto the ends of it as Steve blew a raspberry against her cheek. “I’ll find the second prettiest for you, honey,” Steve promised, winking at you in a way that reminded you all too much of senior year in high school, all the way back to when you first met him.

“You’re such a flirt,” you snorted, leaning back against the empty picnic bag and stretching out your legs. Your book was folded on your lap, fingers itching to pick it up. “I’ll hold you to that, Mr Harrington.”

Steve was already making his way down to the shore, but he looked back over his shoulder at you to grin wider. “Please do, Mrs Harrington.”

Despite your intentions, you found that you didn’t pick up your book at all. No, instead you watched from the sand banks as Steve held your daughter above the gentle waves, her tiny legs kicking wildly at the cool water, her face a picture of absolute marvel as she squealed and shrieked happily at each splash.

#dad!steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve fanfiction #dad!steve blurb #Steve baby blurb

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year ago

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foreign affair // charles leclerc

summary: it wasn't supposed to happen. but they say that the south of france is the most romantic place on the planet. so falling in love with her vacation fling should have been inevitable.

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

warnings: vacation fling, allusions to sex, way too short but it is what it is, bittersweet and filled with longing.

a one in a million chance, you know the moment that you crossed over the line. a casual glance, no one has to read between the lines

in the south of france, it was spring time, special feelings come alive, "there's romance in the air, " so they say, love could be a small café

file it under foreign affairs

the hotel sheets were more expensive than what she made in a day.

this particular resort was divided in two: private villas for the rich and honeymooning, those with money to burn, and the hotel itself, where she was staying.

but they say that france is the country of love, a figure of speech that had proven to be very, very true.

“mon amour, you’re awake.” charles said softly, a towel wrapped around his still damp body, droplets running down his toned stomach as he leaned over the bed to kiss her lips. “I was trying to let you sleep in.”

“but it’s my last day.” she frowned, nipples springing to attention underneath the thin silk sheet wrapped around her body. “I want to be out there doing things.”

three weeks of holiday almost didn’t feel like enough. the trip had been a dream, all sun and sand until she met charles leclerc at the bar. she didn’t know who he was, which perhaps helped to build his attraction to her. and he never felt the need to say any more than “I’m an athlete” when asked what he did for a living.

she fell hard and she fell fast as he offered to be her tour guide. being from monaco and having french friends, charles knew his way around all of the best restaurants, sights and beaches.

it was no surprise that after just three days, finding herself tipsy on wine, she ended up naked in his hotel room, tangled in silk sheets.

“but you will be doing things.” charles smiled, leaning over the bed and pushing his lips against hers with an almost featherlight touch, water dripping onto the sheets. “you’re doing me.”

“you’re so bad.” she giggled, fumbling to throw his towel aside, raking her fingernails down his chest. “promise me you’ll make this last day one to remember?”

“oh, mon cher, i plan on it.”

they spent the morning exchanging kisses and orgasms in charles’ bed before she finally went back to her room, legs worse for wear and a little wobbly on her feet before she changed into her swimsuit and made her way to the resorts private beach. Charles had a standing rental for a cabana, so she settled in with her book and a glass of white wine.

the only way she would want to spend her last day: relaxing by the water.

charles had promised her that he had a surprise planned for the evening to come, and he had left to prepare it shortly after she got out of his shower. despite her attempts at getting the monegasque to give her any hints, the driver was silent about his plans.

“wear that tight red dress and those strapped sandals, and meet me in the valet lot.” was all that he had said in regards to the plans.

charles leclerc, european man of mystery everybody.

bags packed and by the door, ready for her early flight, she dressed in the red dress and sandals, curling her hair and spraying herself with bath and body works. sure enough, when she walked to the valet lot, charles was already waiting next to his Ferrari.

god, she was going to miss him.

the night was young as the sun began to set, hands sticking out of the sunroof and wind blowing her hit round her face as charles drove up the coast, the south of france lit up in the half light.

“can you tell me where we’re going yet?” she giggled, eyes closed as charles lead her though a parking lot.

“hang on, hang on, amour. almost there.”

she could feel the floor moving gently underneath her feet as she let charles guide her body, listening to his calming voice when he finally told her to open her eyes.

“oh, charles.”

she was standing on the middle of a large boat, the sun setting over the water and a picnic blanket set up in the middle of the deck as the vessel rocked back and forth in the harbour, the smell of the saltwater filling her nostrils as charles lit the tall candles that were set up around the picnic.

“one last night to remember?”

she smiled, joining him on the blanket as he popped open a bottle of red wine. “one last night to remember. I’ll miss you, leclerc. thank you for making the last three weeks one for the record books.”

charles smiled sadly, still looking like a greek god even with longing etched on his features.

“to the last three weeks, and to what could have been.”

TAGS;

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @scuderiamh @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #tina: the series by lovelytsunoda #mini fic

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vroomvroomcircuit · 9 months ago

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A never-ending Worry

(A/N): Ikea gave me a big anxiety attack the other day. Here we are now.

Summary: Reader discovers her own anxiety together with Max through several instances.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎 _____________________ Anxiety is a peculiar thing, especially when you suffer from it. It is for (Y/N) at least.

Ever since her first anxiety attack at the ripe age of 16 years, (Y/n) started to worry. About everything. All the damn time. Her head is running the whole time, thinking about different scenarios that could happen. Like her best friend once said:

“The possibility of a baby killing you is slim, but never zero.”

Maybe the possibilities for any of the “what ifs” really happening is low, but she will be prepared if it does happen. It’s an odd sense of safety she can find refuge in, especially in a world of unpredictability.

This is where the peculiarity comes into play. She does not have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe it all.

But (Y/N) never really talked about her constant worries coupled with a never ending feeling of nervousness. Never spoke of this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone feels like that, right?

“Hey Schatje? How many pairs of underwear have you packed for us?” Max called out for (Y/N) as he unpacked their suitcases, that his girlfriend herself packed for the two a couple of days before the trip even started.

A bit befuddled by his question, (Y/N) walks from the kitchen of the rental apartment, where she just finished putting away the groceries they got from their first run to the supermarket, to the bedroom.

“10 pairs for each of us. Do you think it won’t be enough? We can still go out and get some more tomorrow.” Max halts his movements for a second to check if her serious tone matches her face.

It does.

His girlfriend really means what she said.

“No, they will definitely suffice. You do know that we are here for only four days, right?” Max smiles at her. Maybe she just got something mixed up.

“Yes, of course. I planned our activities. It would be bad if I didn’t know about the length of our vacation.” She laughs to herself while moving to help Max unpacking. “Why are you asking?”

“Oh, nothing particular. Just checking.” Ok so. It is a thing for many women to overpack, especially regarding their underwear. “Can you explain your thoughts on the number to me? Why did you decide to pack 20 pairs of underpants in total?”

(Y/N) throws him a look. “Well, we need at least four, one for each day. Then I doubled that number, because something could have gone wrong on our car ride here or will on our way back, making us stay on vacation longer. Then eight felt like it’s not enough. Adding to the extra days, an accident could happen that makes you need an extra pair a day, right? And nine is an odd number that is not even a prime number, so I rounded up to ten. Completely logical.”

Well, it’s logical to her at least. Max was partially amazed by her train of thoughts and worries. He just let it be like that. After all, it’s just over packing and he loves how prepared she is in any given situation.

Prepared (Y/N) is. Always.

“Man, it is so hot, my fingers are sticky with sweat.” Daniel complaints. It’s a race weekend in Singapore and the Aussie is right. It is hot.

(Y/N), who walks with Daniel around the paddock while she waits for Max to get out of a meeting, starts to rummage in her backpack. The back she carries with her all the time. It’s close to iconic.

“Here is some hand disinfectant. It makes you feel a bit less sticky.”

Daniel smiles thankfully while taking the little bottle from the female’s hands. “Thank you. I just need to remember to put on some lotion, I don’t want my hands to dry out.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, she replaces the disinfectant with another small bottle. “Don’t worry, I got you girl.” She winks at the Aussie.

“Oh wow, do you have everything important with you? Can you flee the country with that backpack spontaneously?” Daniel jokes, but it goes over her head.

“Yes, pretty much. I got a small first aid kit, my laptop and all needed chargers for my electronics. Oh, and my passport and IDs of course. Ah, and some small knick-knacks and snacks. Gotta be prepared for the worst case scenario, right?” Her seriousness unsettles something in the driver. But he kind of lets it go, just nodding to her statement. She is right, at least a bit, after all.

“Do you get more nervous when you get into the car? Or is your level of nervousness on the same level?

(Y/N) and Max cuddle in bed back in the safety of their home in Monaco. While asking the question in the wariness of the night, she traces the same shapes over and over again in her partner’s skin. It gives her an odd feeling of safety, the repetition.

Max has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean?” “Well, does your level of feeling nervous rise from the usual one before or during a race?” It sounds plausible to her. But it doesn’t for him.

Max sits up, leaning his upper body against the headboard to have a better look at his girlfriend. “Yes, it does rise, because my usual level of nervousness is zero like for everyone else. Of course I feel different from that, when I get into the car that can bring me over the finish line as a winner. I don’t get the question.”

(Y/N) blinks at him with a frown. “Not- no, not everyone’s level is zero. It’s really just for you that low.” Of course Max is always cool as a cucumber. He only gets this feeling in extreme situations.

“Oh Schtaje. It’s really not. Most people don’t feel nervous often. Do you?” He pulled her close to him, enveloping her completely.

“Not always. Right now, I’m not. But that is, because I’m with you. I know that together we can solve anything.” Max senses that (Y/N) doesn’t want to continue the conversation. He lets it be another time, partially to not make her feel completely uncomfortable in a peaceful moment, partially because he wants to do some research.

Her conversation with her boyfriend sparked something inside (Y/N). Hearing that not everyone is feeling the same way she does, it’s a lot to take in. So she started to do some reading of her own.

Many people on the internet describe the same moments she has: Constant nervousness, the need of being prepared at all times or she’ll break out in a sweat, plus the endless worrying.

And the sudden bursts of intense panic. These moments, where an all consuming fear grips her whole body into a chokehold. That makes her breaths become heavier and her thoughts even faster.

Reading about similar experiences to hers, it makes (Y/N) feel less alone. But one word stood out to her.

Anxiety.

She heard of it and has seen the portrayals on TV. But those are not what she feels. Or is it?

Everything and nothing make sense at the same time.

“Do you want to drive?” Max offers as they get ready to go out for dinner at a restaurant that is a tad too far away to be considered walkable distance. He regularly lets her drive, it’s a bit of emancipation. Why shouldn’t she drive when she has a license for that?

(Y/N) shakes her head no. “I don’t like today’s thoughts. I also feel extra nervous right now, I couldn’t find the menu of the restaurant online.” Max nods, understanding what kind of thoughts she is talking about - intrusive thoughts.

He also appreciates her openness with him about those feelings. “It’s ok, Schatje. I love driving for you, it’s my favorite kind of ride. We will also find something for you, we can order some dishes and share them until you decide which one you want.” He gives her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, hoping to ease up her worries.

During the drive, she holds his hand on the control stick. “It’s good to have you back. Last night I woke up in a panic and thought something must have happened to you on your flight and that this was the reason I had this huge anxiety attack. I couldn’t sleep until you texted me this morning when you landed at the airport.”

His heart grows heavy at that confession. He hasn’t known the extent of her anxious feelings. Max didn’t know how much they overshadowed her in her daily life.

(Y/N) herself never realized how much she has been hindered in her routines by her own thoughts and worries.

“It wasn’t the first time this happened. But it was the worst it has been so far. I thought you died. I waited for my phone to ring or the police to stand at the door, getting notified that you died in a plane crash. I already planned the next steps I had to take from there in my head.” (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look at her boyfriend after this admission.

It is weird to say something out loud, that she used to bury deep inside of her. This kind of vulnerability, it makes her want to crawl back into that hole again.

Over the last couple of weeks she realized that those spiraling thoughts are not here to make her feel safe. That the need of over preparedness is not necessary. That her anxious feelings are not some signs of something bad.

These thoughts are false friends, waiting for your demise, your downfall, to be able to say “I told you so”.

But where to go from here, from the realization of something going gravely wrong, to getting a grip of the situation. To make it all go away?

Max squeezes her hand before putting a kiss on it without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m here for you. I want to hear all those thoughts. As silly as they may sound out loud. I can help you in differentiating if they are necessary, needed, thoughts or if they are the product of overthinking. I want to help you. I want you to not feel anxious all the time. I want to help you through the anxiety attacks. We can get counseling - for only you or together. Just, let me be here for you during every step you take.”

His pleading brings tears to (Y/N)’s eyes. She didn’t know how noticeable her anxiety issues were to outsiders. She doesn’t know what it feels like for Max, seeing her in her most anxious states.

“Yes”, she answers him, “I want you to be here with me. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.” “You don’t need to find out. I’ll be there, for better or for worse.”

Turns out, Max’ deadpan and brutal honesty is exactly what (Y/N) needs.

The evening, where he was away for a race and she had to stay behind, because of her own work schedule. (Y/N) called him in the middle of a not very pretty anxiety attack. “I have this doctor’s appointment. It’s a check-up for my physical health. And what if I-I’m deathly sick and we are catching onto that only now?”

“This is a dumb thought.”

The female halts in her movements. Is it a dumb thought?

“I mean, yes. I regularly go out to donate blood. But maybe they haven’t caught something important accidentally.”

“That is stupid and unlikely.”

She stops again. “You are right. I actually have nothing to worry about.”

The road to having less anxiety is a twisted one, paved by setbacks and a small gap between succeeding and failing. But with Max as a passenger princess on that path (Y/N) knows she got it.

She will be ok, eventually.

#max verstappen image #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #x reader #reader insert #x you

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the-au-collector · 6 months ago

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The Links On Vacation

Since summer is almost here I have to wonder what kind of vacationer each of the Links are…

Wild - Does not sit down. Explores everything. Takes lots of pictures. Eats at every restaurant (rip his wallet) and makes friends with the chefs. He’s the kind to drive in a random direction just to see what he’ll find. No plans, no maps except for a severely outdated atlas, just a camera and ready to explore. You probably won’t hear from him for the whole vacation (both because he forgot his phone and because he left the boundaries of cell service 3 hours ago). But then again Wild is just Like That everyday.

Hyrule - is hanging out with Wild most of the time. Also explores places, but prefers going to natural parks and the like. Ran out of cell service 5 hours ago probably decided to camp with the bears.

Wind - glued to the beach. He doesn’t leave the beach. He’d sleep on it if he could (and he has). You’re lucky if you manage to pull him out of the sea long enough for him to eat lunch. Always covered in sand. Has a perfect tan.

Warriors - the usually over-stressed parent who’s decided that THIS is the vacation on which he relaxes. He spends 90% of his time chilling on the beach ignoring the chaos. Gets the worst sunburn known to man, cries about it for 3 days (both because it hurts and the beat red face clashes with his hair).

Time - doesn’t know how to vacation. He tells himself he’s going to properly relax this time, but he ends up doing work instead because he doesn’t like doing nothing. His preferred vacation is staying home and doing work around the house. He will enable the others’ shenanigans, though. Gave Wild $100 to drive wherever, packed sandwiches for Hyrule for when he disappears. Time also always gets the best deals on rentals. He knows people, but never elaborates on how he knows them. The Links have various theories.

Legend - the itinerary man. He’s the vacationer who has every moment of his vacation planned down to a T. Knows every place he’ll stop, every place he’ll see, the exact time of the wait lines… except Hyrule and Ravio always force him to change his plans. If he’s the one renting, he always somehow finds the most overpriced places. He’s not allowed to make the rental plans anymore because of this.

Twilight - the over-stressed parent who needs a vacation from his vacation. He’s the one making sure he knows where everyone is because if he doesn’t he’ll implode. He doesn’t actually know what he’d do on an actual, relaxing vacation because he has to worry about Wind getting sunburns, Wild vanishing off the face of the earth, and Hyrule getting eaten by bears

Four - the “sleep is for the weak” vacationer. He knows how to vacation, he just doesn’t do it. He doesn’t like to sit still, his mind is too loud, so he tends to prefer to go to huge attractions over the wilderness any day. Will take a city over a beach in a heartbeat.

Sky - the “sleeps the whole time” vacationer. His life is usually so hectic and busy, he ends up sleeping 16 hours the first day and missing out on all of the fun stuff. Then he’ll go to bed early the next because he got exhausted from trying to do so much, then sleeps too long again, then—it’s a cycle.

+Bonus!

Ravio - the splurger. He’s usually so tight with his money, but Ravio wastes no expense on vacation. Will be booking every trip to the spa, sauna, and hot spring he can find. Will be eating at the most expensive restaurants. Will be making Legend pay.

Malon - the only one who gets to relax vacationer. Malon refuses to let her vacation be ruined. The Links know and respect this. They also know Malon will fight anyone who gets in the way of her vacation.

#linked universe #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu warriors #lu time #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #lu sky #lu ravio #lu malon

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saigethearies · 1 year ago

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saige’s terrortober presents…

break

a heartbreaking betrayal leads you to seek comfort from the very person that plunged you into this nightmare.

serial killer!keiji akaashi x fem!reader

contents/warnings: murder and extremely dubious consent, reader goes through a trauma and starts making questionable decisions, angst, oral (m!receiving), pussyjob, unprotected vaginal sex, slight bondage, praise, reader’s ankle gets a lil hurt but she’s okay, blood, slight yandere(?)

wc: 2.9k

18+ MINORS DNI

it was supposed to be the best weekend of the year.

you, your boyfriend, and all of your shared friends had been planning this getaway since last year. everyone ensured to get the time off, saved up to get the nicer rental, even splurged on a pontoon boat to be able to piddle around on the water. this lake trip was supposed to be one for the books.

you supposed it still technically would be.

you just didn’t think it would be something straight out of a horror novel.

slowly, you made your way through the hall, grateful for the homeowner’s decision to carpet the upstairs so that your footsteps could be muffled- even though much of said carpet was now stained red. you kept your eyes trained straight ahead, refusing to look into the bathroom on the left even though you could still see the limp body of one of your friends in your peripheral.

you had to save all your tears for later. if you broke down too soon, there’s a big chance you wouldn’t be getting back up. he’d make sure of that.

the wine cellar is how he must have snuck in. your group had read about in the list of amenities, but no one bothered to notice that it had a door that led outside. it was the only entrance to the house that wouldn’t have been locked. one small act of negligence and now your vacation home had been turned into a hunting ground.

you weren't sure how many of your friends were still alive. out of your original group of eight, you’d passed three bodies so far. it was out of pure luck that you managed to escape his onslaught of the second floor. you hid the second you heard your friend’s bloodcurdling scream after she’d left to go shower. dashing into one of the vacant bedrooms and yanking the window open, you’d perched yourself on the roof outside while listening to his heavy footsteps explore the room. you’d never felt so terrified in your entire life. the term ‘frozen in fear’ didn’t do it justice. it felt as if liquid nitrogen was circulating through your veins.

as soon as the coast felt clear, you quietly slid through the window and padded into the hall, bringing you to your current whereabouts.

a pained yell pierced the stillness that had blanketed the house, sounding off from somewhere near the kitchen downstairs. you paused near the top of the stairs, huddling up against the wall to stay out of view in case he happened to pass by. you couldn’t help but wonder which of your friends was the one getting butchered this time, morbid curiosity bringing a cloudiness to your frantic eyes.

you squeezed them shut. crying comes later, remember?

you couldn’t hear the shouting from below anymore, and you took a deep breath to gather your wits. you needed to find your boyfriend. you cared deeply for everyone here, but the love of your life needed to come first. this is the man you were discussing spending forever with, starting a family with, growing old together with.

even if you did make it out alive, you wouldn’t truly survive unless he did too.

there was only one clear escape route. he had already slashed everyone’s tires, so the cars weren’t an option. however, the pontoon boat was out of view, hidden within the boathouse out back. there’s a possibility he didn’t know it was there, meaning that a water getaway was your best chance at the moment.

which also meant that to get to the backyard, you needed to go downstairs. where the killer was.

every muscle in your body was trying to lock up, refusing to carry your legs down into imminent danger. your brain knew better, however. you needed to move.

wobbly legs took you down the first few steps, stopping for a second to try and tame the shakes wracking you. it was during that pause that you saw movement in one of the living room windows that gave you a view into the backyard.

it was your boyfriend.

he was creeping through the patio with his roommate, one of them monitoring the inside of the house while the other kept his eyes on the boathouse. they must share the idea that you have about an escape. you couldn’t help the smile that came onto your face. your lover was always on the same page as you. even when facing disaster, you proved you were perfect for each other.

you were prompted to move forward again now that you saw fellow survivors, this time moving swiftly. not seeing him in the surrounding area at the bottom of the staircase, you dashed to the backdoor, opening it as fast as you could without making too much noise.

“babe!” you called softly, stepping onto the patio.

your boyfriend turned to look at you, an expression in your eyes that you couldn’t quite grasp. he frantically beckoned you forward, his roommate having an impatient look on his face. you didn’t take it personally. everyone was petrified right now.

you ran towards them, joining them in the middle of the yard. the boathouse was just down the gentle slope of the yard. you could easily reach it in under a minute, especially with how fast everyone seemed to be moving. safety wasn’t too far away.

that glimmer of hope crashed along with the bloodied body that was sent careening into your group. the three of you scattered, your eyes tearing up at the wounded, torn version of your former classmate laying crumpled on the ground before you.

another thump sounded off to the right of you, and you turned to see him now standing directly behind your boyfriend. he had jumped down from the second-story balcony, when he’d gotten there, you had no clue. what you did have a clue about was that your lover was in serious trouble, because your attacker was raising his ax.

“oh, fuck!” your boyfriend’s roommate screamed. “behind you!”

he turned around just in time to see his assailant swinging his ax down, blade aimed straight for your boyfriend’s neck.

your brain hadn’t even registered your movements, deep ingrained need to protect your loved one leading you to grip one of the folding lawn chairs in your hand. you ran towards him, not even caring for the fact he could overpower you easily, and flung the chair against him with all of your might. you watched his steely blue eyes widen in surprise, clearly not used to having someone fight back, his balance breaking as he stumbling backwards, ax now lodging into the ground near your boyfriend’s feet.

a victorious grin broke out on your face. you did it! you saved your man!

the three of you took off towards the boathouse, wind whipping your hair as you ran faster than you ever had in your life. your group had a headstart of a few seconds, the killer having to unstick his ax from the grass. he was able to gain on you shortly after, though, and you figured this man had to have some sort of athletic background. no average man could pull off the feats you’d seen him do with ease.

you could see the pontoon boat, the two men a few steps ahead of you already within reach of it.

almost th-

crack!

your foot must’ve landed on a dry-rotted piece of wood, a panel of the boathouse dock breaking and sending your foot below the floor, stuck.

hearing the sound of something breaking, your boyfriend turned to see your predicament. you saw him pause, turning towards you slightly.

“help me!” you cried, eyes locked on his.

he began to take a step towards you, about to come rescue you like you had him not too long ago, until his roommate’s voice yelled out to him.

“dude, we have to fucking go now! there’s no time, leave her.”

when the words reached you, your heart dropped.

and then, when you saw the guilt come onto your boyfriend’s face as he turned and clambered onto the boat with his friend, your heart broke.

the sound of an engine whirring sent your ears ringing, watching the two of them speed away from the hell they’d willingly left you in.

your chest tightened, breathing becoming jagged as the reality of your situation tightened around you like a python squeezing its prey to death.

he left you.

the man you were supposed to marry, to have children with, to sit on front porch rocking chairs with years from now, left you to get picked off so that he could escape. after you’d risked your own life to rush at a murderer to save his.

the burning started at the corners of your eyes, spreading through your lashline before it became so unbearable that you shut your eyes, face scrunching as the drops began their descent down your cheeks.

you saw so much death, so much bloodshed, yet held it all in for the sake of being reunited with your love amidst the chaos.

for the first time that dreadful night, you allowed yourself to cry.

the sobs that wracked your body left your whole frame weak, body slumping towards the dock as you fell onto your knees, not even bothering with your foot still trapped under the wood. it wouldn’t make a difference, anyway. your biggest motivation to survive just cut you deeper than he ever could. there was no fight left in you.

god, you just hoped he’d make it quick. yet, after you threw a fucking chair at him earlier, you figured that wouldn’t be the case. damn, why did the events have to unfold like this?

you wondered what you did to deserve this?

apparently, someone else seemed to be having a similar thought.

“what a selfish bastard,” the voice, cold and cutting said from behind you. if you weren’t so numb, you probably would have flinched when you felt his hand come onto the top of your head. “you poor thing, you didn’t deserve that.”

his tone took on a sort of sympathetic note, confusion forming in your jumbled mind. was he trying to mock you? add insult to injury before he hacks into you over and over again?

the feeling of this thumb gently stroking the top of your forehead brought you to, blinking your tears away as he kneeled down beside you. his other hand then dropped his ax, fingers coming to grip your chin so gently that you almost were sent into denial that these were the same appendages shredding your friends earlier.

you hated how the word “beautiful” came to mind when you saw his stormy eyes, blood streaked all over an admittedly handsome face. the softness that had come across his features had you even more puzzled. he was trying to mock you, right?

“you’re such a sweet thing,” he said, crimson coated hands continuing to delicately hold your head, as if he knew you were fragile right now. you could feel the warm stickiness from his fingers getting onto your face.

“not many people have the courage to face me,” he said with a small chuckle as if he was taking a quick stroll down memory lane, reminiscing on all the people he’d hunted before. “but you did, because you were trying to help someone. i’ve seen so many people show their true colors while facing death, and none of them have been as good-natured as yours. you should be proud of yourself.”

your stomach started to sink.

his rambling sounded genuine. he wasn’t mocking you, he actually felt bad for you. the fucking murderer felt sorry for you, that’s how screwed over you just got.

and worst of all, his words were actually comforting you.

his palms moved to cup your tear-stained cheeks, you leaning one of them into his touch absentmindedly. so warm.

“he-” you hiccupped on another sob. “he left me. for dead.”

a frown came onto his face as he began to shush your cries, thumbs wiping your tears away, painting your cheeks scarlet. “not for dead, sweetheart. you’re good. i don’t kill good girls.”

you blinked, swallowing slowly as you replayed his words over and over again. “you…you don’t?”

“mhm,” he hummed. “like i said, true colors, angel. a lot of the people i’ve taken out were just as shitty as me. i just can’t be bothered to hide it anymore.”

maybe it was the care he was treating you with, or the nice words, or the fact that he was honestly gorgeous, but whatever it was made his words start to make sense in your scattered mind.

his attention turned to your stuck foot, moving to lift it out from under the wood. he examined your ankle closely. “it might be sprained, but i don’t think it’s broken. try not to put any pressure on it, yeah?”

he scooped you up with ease, holding you in his arms as if you were something precious to him. the two of you looked at the purple and pink hues of the sunset, spotting the departed pontoon boat that was now a mere speck on the horizon of the water.

“some people are so cruel,” he said with distaste, as if the onslaught he’d unleashed upon your friends earlier had been anything other than cruel itself. you should have made a note of the irony, but instead you leaned your head against his chest.

you found yourself gently laid down on one of the deck chairs near the boathouse, the man remaining standing as he came to your side, your face level with his waist.

“you were so good earlier,” he said, tipping your head back with his fingers to look up at him. “be good for me one more time and i’ll reward you, yeah?”

he began to undo his belt, and you should have screamed. cried. felt disgusted at his implications. but instead, you nodded your head, staring up at him like he had designed the constellations himself. he had been so kind to you, so comforting, during your lowest point. how could you deny him?

he took the leather belt he just removed and wrapped it around your wrists, keeping them tied in front of you. he chuckled. “just a precaution, sweetheart. you did hit me with a chair earlier.”

you watched on in awe as he pushed his pants and briefs down enough to free his cock, which was as pretty as the rest of him with a flushed pink tip.

“open up, sweetheart.”

you did as you were told, accepting his hard length into your mouth and sucking. he kept a grip on your chin, moving your head up and down his dick the way he wanted. you kept running your tongue along the underside as you were bobbed, drinking in the pleased sighs you heard above you.

“so good,” he breathed out. “so good, such a good girl.”

he started to move you faster, cock slipping in and out of your mouth rapidly as his high neared. he suddenly stilled, removing himself from between your lips.

“did great, sweetheart,” the praise sent tingles down your spine. “but i only like to cum in a pussy, so it’s time for your reward.”

removing his pants the rest of the way, he pulled your own little shorts off.

“sir-”

“keiji,” he corrected. “you can call me keiji.”

“o-okay,” you said. “keiji, are you gonna…you know…”

“what is it, sweetheart? don’t be shy, you can ask.”

“are you gonna prep me?”

he gave you a small smile. “of course i can get your pussy a little wet first, angel.”

he peeled your panties off, bringing his hard cock between your folds and starting to rub between them. the sensation was new to you, little moans leaving your lips. he held your hips in place, bloody fingerprints marring your skin as he continued to slide between your labia.

his cockhead started to hit your clit, increasing the volume of your sounds as the pleasure started to build in your gut.

feeling all the slick gathering on his dick, akaashi figured you were ready for him. ceasing his movements, he positioned himself at your entrance. “alright, pretty girl. deep breath.”

he felt so good filling you up, giving your walls a delectable stretch as he bottomed out in your soaked cunt. you watched him take a deep breath.

“never felt a pussy this good. you truly are special, aren’t you?”

he set a pace that was deep and steady, cradling your head against his chest as he speared you repeatedly. pants and mewls left you, his cock feeling so amazing, the nirvava it provided being the perfect distraction from your heartbreak. the calm after the horrific storm you experienced earlier, brain too weary to care that the very person providing the satisfaction was the hailstorm himself.

it didn’t matter.

nothing you thought you knew mattered anymore.

all that mattered was how good keiji made you feel, a particularly hard thrust leaving you shaking and cumming around him.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until he was cooing at you, rubbing his hand against your back almost lovingly. you weren’t sure if it was your tears or your orgasm that pushed him over his own edge.

“you’ll be okay, sweetheart. i’ll make sure of it.”

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

#saige’s terrortober #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi smut #akaashi keiji smut #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #hq x you #hq x reader #hq smut

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indigoraysoflight · 3 months ago

Text

“Spicy food in India” | Caryl prompt

requested by @that-left-turn ❤️

Cardamom & Curry

Carol stared at the fish. They’d been in Munnar for three days, and Carol had already gathered three South Indian recipes to take home. She decided to try making fish curry for lunch instead of finding a local restaurant, but there was one problem. Carol had never filleted a pomfret before. Daryl was the one who always filleted fish in their home, but he was asleep, so she was on her own.

Henry and his dad, Ezekiel, had planned a trip to Kerala, South India and wanted Lydia to go with them. Lydia and Henry had been dating for three years, and Carol adored Henry. He was respectful – if a little spoiled – and he loved Lydia. She knew Daryl liked him too but was extra grumpy around the boy who was dating his adopted daughter. Henry and his dad travelled a lot and often took Lydia with them. But Daryl refused to let their kid go across the world by herself, even though their kid wasn't really 'a kid'. So, Ezekiel generously extended the invitation to Lydia’s adoptive mom and her adoptive mom’s platonic best friend, who also happened to be Lydia’s adoptive father. To say their first dinner together had been awkward would be an understatement.

They’d been saving up for a big vacation for a year and a half now, so the timing worked out. Her catering business was going well this year, but Carol doubted they’d ever be able to afford this expensive rental. The luxury cottage was built with rustic stone and wood, and nestled on top of a hill, surrounded by tea and cardamom plantations. Ezekiel had given them the tour when they arrived, but the space was too big for her taste; she would’ve preferred a cozy but comfortable cottage with a view of the rolling hills. Still, she’d smiled graciously every time he pointed out an expensive feature on the property while Daryl sulked in the back. There was an odd tension between Daryl and Ezekiel, and she'd figured out why after what happened yesterday. Carol thought it best to stay with Daryl today and take some time to think–

“You tryna fillet the fish with your mind? Just gotta use a knife.”

Carol blinked, realizing she had zoned out and she was still staring at the pomfret. “Is that how it works? I thought if I stared at it sternly, it would fillet itself.”

“Gimme.” He limped over and started filleting the pomfrets with impressive precision.

“Show off,” she muttered under her breath.

His hair was dishevelled, and he wore cargo shorts and a faded tie-dye t-shirt that Sophia had made for him years ago. She pushed his fringe back to examine the cut on his face, held together by butterfly bandages. They'd been more generous with their touches lately – especially since they got here – but she didn't mind, and she didn't think he minded either by the way he leaned into her touch.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” he said without looking up at her.

“You’re lucky you didn't need stitches.” He looked up at her then, his eyes intense as they flicked down to her lips. She realized she was just running her fingers through his hair now and stepped back.

She and Daryl woke up before dawn the last two mornings and, in a jetlagged daze, walked along the path through the tea plantation to catch the sunrise. They didn’t expect it to rain on their way back yesterday. She slipped and would’ve tumbled down the path, but Daryl steadied her, lost his balance, and landed in the tea plantation. Besides a large cut on the left side of his face, tea leaves stuck to his elbows and knees, and a sprained ankle — he was intact. His eyes held a fear she hadn’t seen in five years – fear and something else – as he frantically checked her for injuries and then held her in his arms for a solid minute in the rain.

“This fish isn't going to marinate itself,” she said in a chipper voice and mixed the spices in a bowl to calm her heart rate before smearing a generous amount of the paste on the fish.

“That’s enough. Dunno if I need more spice.”

Carol smirked and batted her eyelashes at him. “But I thought you liked it when I’m spicy, Pookie.”

“Stop.”

They fell into the rhythm they had in their own kitchen. She sauteed the onions with the spice mixture while he squinted at the recipe she’d scribbled on a paper pad and started cutting the tomatoes – stopping every few seconds to pop a slice in his mouth. Carol took a deep breath and focused on the onions. Something had viscerally shifted between them on the long flight over here. She’d clung to him on the plane during turbulence, and after they landed, they kept reaching for an excuse to touch each other. She’d been so unguarded in the way she leered at him that Lydia and Henry had given her a knowing look more than once.

“Where’s the royal family? I’m guessing Lydia is with them?” Daryl casually fed her a slice of tomato and then sucked the juice off his fingers.

They’re gone, and I’m in trouble. Carol steadied her voice. “Lydia, Henry, and Zeke went sightseeing; they won’t return until after dinner.” It’s just us, and you keep doing that thing with your mouth, she thought.

Carol let the curry simmer while they stepped onto the balcony and lounged on the chairs, staring at the green expanse. The air was dewy and perpetually scented with a hint of cardamom. Sophia would’ve loved this place. She would be perched on the balcony with her sketchbook, scribbling away and absentmindedly picking at her nails.

“Why didn’t ya go with them? I’m sure Henry’s dad will miss you.” Daryl growled and picked at his nail.

The tension between Daryl and Ezekiel got worse when he limped on their way back yesterday, and Ezekiel offered to pay for a doctor to take a look at him. Carol knew he would refuse, and thankfully she had packed some first aid supplies because she knew this man too damn well.

Carol rolled her eyes. “I wanted to stay and take care of Lydia’s dad, so he understood.”

Daryl’s lips quirked up, summoning a flutter in her belly. What are we doing here, Daryl? She wanted to ask. They’d been tip-toeing around each other for years now. Or she thought they were. Maybe this is all they’d ever be – platonic best friends who lived together, who raised a daughter and lost another. Two people who let their touches linger too long, reached for each other when they were afraid, longed for each other when they were apart, and sometimes slept in each other’s arms but never crossed that line. Always something more, but never quite enough.

“Surprised he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”

Carol blinked at Daryl, wanting to point out the irony in what he’d said. Irritation coursed through her as the curry burbled away, and she decided to come clean about what had happened the previous evening.

“He did after dinner last night.”

“What?” Daryl looked like he’d been punched in the gut; Carol tried to ignore the twinge of guilt and failed.

Ezekiel had helped her load the dishwasher in the kitchen and asked her out before they retired to their rooms last night. He’d been a perfect gentleman – charming, respectful, and chivalrous. But all she’d thought about was how Daryl’s eyes had lingered on her lips before dinner when he’d told her she looked beautiful.

“I told him I’ll think about it.” They weren’t in a position to anger their host, even though she felt that Ezekiel would accept defeat graciously and not put them in an awkward position.

“Why didn’t ya say yes?”

“Why does it matter?”

Daryl’s behaviour was giving her whiplash. He practically undressed her with his eyes last night and almost launched himself at Ezekiel for complimenting her at dinner. Now, he was pushing her to date the man.

Daryl peered through his fringe, his eyes earnest. “He’s real charming, rich, generous, and clearly has a thing for ya.”

Carol crossed her arms. “If he’s so great, why don't you go out with him?”

“Pfft. Ain’t my type.”

“What is your type?” Carol raised her eyebrows, ignoring the heat that crept up her cheeks as Daryl’s eyes roamed her face and lingered on her lips before he pried his gaze away.

“Don’t change the subject. He’s corny and a bit pretentious, but he doesn’t seem like an asshole.”

“So, that’s what you want then? For me to date Ezekiel?” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze, her anger now simmering to the surface and prickling at her eyes. Is that what he wanted? Then why did he look at her like that all the time — like he was afraid of losing her? Had she gotten this all wrong? Did she spend years pining after a man who was finally telling her he was not interested?

Daryl looked away. “I want ya to be happy. He’d treat you like a Queen and-”

“-I should get started on the appam.”

Carol went to the kitchen before the tears formed in her eyes, hating the open plan of the cottage where she could feel Daryl’s eyes follow her. Her hand reached for the pink bauble pendant resting on her chest. After Sophia died, they’d grown closer and built a wall between them at the same time. But when Lydia came into their lives, the wall started breaking down. She hoped, in time, they could pick up where they left off. Now, she didn’t know why she thought this vacation would be a new beginning for them. Daryl was never going to see her as anything but his best friend. She’d waited too long.

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

Daryl loved watching her cook. Her hair was tied up in a bun; she wore a loose Bowie t-shirt, baggy sweats, and soft fuzzy elf socks Lydia got for her last Christmas. The aroma of cardamom and chilli lingered in the air as she poured rice batter on a pan to make the rice crepes they called appam. He wished he could walk up and wrap his arms around her, kiss the nape of her neck and see if he could taste cardamom on her skin. I bet Ezekiel didn't think this hard before he made his move. He sighed.

Daryl didn’t know how many days he had left to savour her presence, reach for her hand when they walked up a crooked path and watch the sunrise wash over her freckles. She looked radiant last night in the blue dress that hugged her form and illuminated her eyes. He knew sooner or later, she’d meet a man who deserved her. I didn’t think it would be this soon. To think he’d hoped this vacation would give them time to figure out what their future looked like. Even if Daryl selfishly wished to be with her, Carol deserved someone who could offer her the world. Ezekiel sure as hell checked all the boxes.

Carol deserved all of this. Lavish vacations, a charming partner, and children who adored her – who were safe and in her arms. She deserved a comfortable life after everything she’d been through.

Daryl’s work as a contractor was unpredictable, and renting a cottage of this size for twelve days was out of the question. He thought the trip he’d taken her and Sophia on to the Grand Canyon had been extravagant because he’d spent a chunk of his savings to upgrade them to a big cabin with a mini-pool. Now Henry’s rich father entered the picture and showed him up with one effortless, generous gesture and an offhanded “We vacation here every summer”. The universe could’ve kicked him in the balls, and it would’ve hurt less.

Daryl walked into the kitchen and started slicing some red onions to soak in lemon juice because he needed something to do before his thoughts choked him. Carol’s eyes were far away when she held up a spoon so he could taste the curry; the heat from the spices hit him straight in the back of his throat and lingered on his palate.

“Why did you stay after Sophia died?”

Daryl coughed. “What?”

“You heard me.”

It didn’t even occur to him to leave after Sophia died. When he’d rented the basement apartment in Carol’s house all those years ago, he only wanted a cheap place to rest his head as he went through trade school. Daryl hadn’t expected to fall so deeply in love with Carol and co-parent her child with her. Before he knew it, he'd moved upstairs into the spare room, and he walked the kid to school every day and helped with her homework. He’d come to love Sophia like she was his own daughter. When she died, he and Carol had anchored each other through their shared grief over the loss of their little girl. Then, another kid walked through the doors, and they were given another chance.

“I loved that kid. I know Sophia wasn’t mine, but she was.” He didn’t expect his voice to break as his eyes lingered on Carol's pink bauble necklace.

“I know. But that’s not what I asked.” her voice was soft, her eyes crystal in the afternoon light – she was crying in the kitchen when he was busy leering at her. He wanted to kick himself for being an idiot again.

Carol pinned him with her gaze. “Why’d you stay?”

“Why didn’t ya say yes to Ezekiel?” he deflected.

“I’m not interested in him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t love him.” Carol’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Ezekiel wasn’t the one who held me through my grief. He didn’t take my daughter trick-or-treating or scour ten game stores to find the obscure video game she wanted. He didn’t make her chicken soup with alphabet pasta when she was sick. He didn’t treat me and my daughter like we were the center of his universe-” Carol’s voice broke, and she wiped her tears.

“Carol-”

“-I thought we were on the same page, Daryl, and hoped we’d have a stroke of luck with the change of scenery, but I guess I was wrong.”

Did she really not know? Had he not been clear enough about how he felt? He loved her so much he’d let her walk into a pretentious rich guy’s arms—shit. As he played the thoughts over in his mind, he realized how they must’ve sounded out loud. I fucked up. Words chased each other in his mind as he struggled to explain.

“Our luck’s run out,” Carol sighed and turned to leave.

Before he could think too hard, he pulled her close and kissed her. Her lips tasted of cardamom, and her. Carol. A small part of his mind worried about her shoving him away, but instead, she melted in his embrace and drew him in for more.

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

His lips were softer than she’d imagined. He kissed her deeply and slowly like he had all the time in the world. His hands were everywhere – caressing her face, gripping her waist, tangled in her hair – like he was tracing her silhouette in his memory. When they came up for air, her mind was molasses, and her thoughts returned to her slowly. He traced her jawline with a featherlight touch and looked at her like he worried she would disappear. Carol blinked away the tears and ran a finger alongside the butterfly bandages on his face. Their eyes met, and he held her hand to his cheek and kissed it.

“Why’d you stay?” she asked again.

“I stayed because I belong with you.”

There was nothing else she could say but kiss him again and wonder why she hadn’t done it sooner.

“Why did you tell me to date Ezekiel?” she asked between kisses.

“I’m an idiot.” He kissed her back.

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

After their make-out session, they took a quick break to catch a breath and have lunch – a bowl of fish curry with rice crepes or appam. They’d been eating spicy food for days, and he always regretted it in the morning, but that didn't stop him. He dove in immediately, savouring every bite as the sharp taste of chilli and cardamom hit his palate. Sooo good. He could still taste the fish, and it melted in his mouth. He couldn’t slow down if he tried, so he helped himself to a red onion slice soaked in lemon juice and hummed as the acid cut through the savoury richness of the curry.

Carol watched him with a smile – her gaze soft and open. Most of her hair had escaped the bun, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked swollen and kissable. His brain short-circuited; he didn’t know whether to continue eating the curry or kiss her. She solved his problem by scooping some fish with the appam and feeding it to him; Daryl held her gaze as he ate and licked the pads of her fingers with his tongue.

He didn’t know which one of them closed the gap. He didn’t care because he was kissing the woman he loved. His hands pulled her close, and her fingers grabbed his hair as they stumbled toward her bedroom. The taste of cardamon and curry lingered on his tongue as he pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck.

“Your lips taste spicy, Pookie.”

“Thought you like it when I’m spicy.”

Her laughter bounced off the walls as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him.

_________________________________________________________

A few notes:

Munnar: Munnar is a hillstation in India’s Kerala state. It's surrounded by rolling hills dotted with tea, coffee, and cardamom plantations.

Appam: Appam is a thin and lacy fermented rice pancake. Traditionally, it’s eaten with stew or coconut chutney.

Pomfret: This delicate white fish is a staple in coastal regions of India.

Fish curry recipe for the curious minds (if you plan on making it, please don’t forget to marinate your protein).

#caryl #carol x daryl #daryl x carol #caryl is endgame #caryl positivity #carol peletier #daryl dixon #twd caryl #caryl prompt fill #caryl one-shot #caryl fanfiction #caryl: my short fics and one shots

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thruheavenandhighwater · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Plus Size Female Reader

Requested By: Anon

Word Count: 10,531

Summary: You and Eddie had decided at the beginning of your relationship that kids probably weren't for you. But every summer when your niece visits for two weeks, you find yourself reconsidering. This takes place in like '93 and reader and Eddie are both in their mid 20s.

Content Warning: Smut (18+, minors DNI) Eddie being a horny little gerbil and making sexual/ suggestive jokes. Breeding kink kinda. Unprotected sex.

Stranger Things Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

~~~~~

You'd always loved summer vacation. When you were in school, you obviously loved getting 10 weeks of freedom. As you got older you learned to appreciate the nice weather and ability to spend time outside with your friends. When you met Eddie you loved being able to follow him to shows, watching him be a rockstar at small festivals and house parties all around the state. But now, you loved summer for a whole new reason.

Your brother and sister in law had moved out of state a few years ago for his job. They were happy in their new city, and your niece had made gaggles of new friends at her school. But you missed them all terribly between visits. Your niece's summer vacation just so happened to be their longest visit. They'd come back the last week of June, stay through the Fourth Of July holiday, and drive back to their own city until November.

You and Eddie were both excited for their visit. You always were. For the last few years, since you'd been dating, you both loved those two weeks in the middle of summer when the baby would be home to visit. Neither of you had ever particularly wanted kids, but you loved spending time with your niece.

She and Eddie got along famously from the first time they met. She'd only been barely two years old at the time. Eddie had been nervous, making himself sick with worry for weeks leading up to the visit. He convinced himself that your brother and his wife wouldn't like him. He thought they'd take one look at him, at his leather and chains and run for the hills. He even had himself believing that you would listen to them and leave him while they were in town.

None of that happened, obviously. You all gathered at your parents house the day after they arrived for family dinner. The only thing stopping Eddie's hands from shaking was the fact that you held one tightly in your own, and the other held the cookies you'd made earlier that morning. You watched all of his worry melt away almost as soon as the front door closed behind you. Before you could even greet your family, your niece was across the room, taking Eddie's hand from yours and leading him into the living room to play Care Bears with her. They ended up playing for most of the afternoon. She made him be Funshine Bear, and your brother still calls him Funshine whenever they see each other.

This year, you and Eddie were finally able to get your own place. It was a rental, admittedly. A small house a few blocks from your work. But it was yours and you were both proud of it. The best part, you both agreed, was the extra bedroom. A few weeks before their visit you called your brother to ask if your niece could spend a few nights with you and Eddie while they were in town. Being that she was six years old now, he left it up to her. She nearly broke the speaker of your phone with how loudly she squealed once you asked the question. You and Eddie spent way too long passing the phone back and forth while you all planned what she was calling "the super awesome mega slumber party." The following weekend you and Eddie went out and probably spent too much money buying a new bed and Disney princess sheets, just for your niece in the extra bedroom.

The day everyone arrived back in Hawkins you met them at your parents house. No more than three minutes after she was in the house, your niece corned you and Eddie in the kitchen demanding to see "her" bedroom.

"It's in our house all the way across town, jellybean," you told her.

"I'm going there tonight?"

"Not tonight, kid," Eddie answered, crouching down to her level. "Auntie and me both gotta work tomorrow. You're comin' over on Friday."

"What's today?"

"Wednesday."

The groan that came from deep within her body would have suggested that she'd just been given the news that her stocks were tanking. Eddie only giggled, promising a fun weekend and as many blueberry pancakes as she could eat. She begged the both of you to come over tonight, claiming that she had to check out her room and make sure it was good enough. You told her no, though you didn't want to. You knew that if she came over tonight she'd be there for the rest of their trip. At the end of the afternoon you and Eddie hugged her goodbye and did your best to ignore the wide eyed, pleading looks she gave you through your parents living room window.

You ended up taking a half day on Friday, physically incapable of sitting at work for an additional four hours. You were practically bouncing as you called your parents house from work. Your brother answered, sounding very arrogant when he simply said your name in lieu of a greeting.

"Is my baby awake?" You asked. He chuckled and told you that she wakes up with the sun. "Has she eaten lunch? I'm about to leave work and I was thinking we could have a little date to Benny's."

"Benny's without me?" He asked, almost sounding genuinely offended.

"I guess if you're like, on the brink of starving to death you can go."

"Thank you so much for such a warm and genuine invitation," he said in a monotone voice. "But I'm gonna watch golf and pass out on the couch the exact moment your car is out of the driveway, so I won't be able to attend."

"Nice to know that nothing has changed in your old age."

"I'm barely four years older than you," he reminded you. "So if I'm old, what does that make you?"

"I'm still young and full of life," you answered. "And I'll be there in like ten minutes so she better be ready."

When you arrived at your parents house, your brother opened the door before you had the chance to knock. "She's been staring out the window since we hung up," he told you. The two of you stood side by side as you watched her slip into her pink tennis shoes. "Where's Uncle Funshine?" He asked.

You swatted at him, the back of your hand smacking softly against his chest. "Stop callin' him that."

"She calls him that!"

"She's six and it's cute," you retorted. Just then your niece stood up and proudly showed off the laces of her shoes, which she tied all by herself thank you very much. Your brother let out an exaggerated groan as he lifted her backpack to hand it to you. You had to admit, it seemed like she had packed everything she owned in that small pink bag. On the drive to Benny's she told you all about everything she had brought with her for the two nights she was spending with you and Eddie.

"I brought two outfits and then a extra shirt in case we go somewhere fancy," she told you. You did your best to hide the laugh that pulled from you, knowing that you were currently driving to the fanciest place in Hawkins. "And I brought some books, 'cause I'm getting real good at reading."

"So you don't want Uncle to read you stories anymore?"

"Well, he can sometimes," she answered. "But only 'cause he does voices and stuff. Oh! And daddy said you're gonna take me swimming so I brought my bathing suit."

"Daddy said that, huh?" You asked, looking into the rearview mirror to find her nodding triumphantly, her bright smile on full display. "Then I guess we gotta find a pool, don't we?"

Later that evening, after dinner and bedtime stories Eddie joined you in bed. "We're going swimming tomorrow?" He asked, turning onto his side to face you.

"Apparently my brother has promised her swimming," you answered with a smile. "Figured we could take her to the pool and let her tire herself out."

"Which pool?"

"There's only one public pool," you laughed.

Eddie groaned dramatically. "That place sucks," he told you. "And the lifeguards are all banging each other and it smells like chlorine and-"

"Okay!" You said, halting his rant. "So where do you suggest we take her?"

"Steve and Robin's apartment has a pool."

"For residents," you told him flatly. "We aren't residents."

"Steve and Robin are residents," he shrugged. You only sighed, telling him that you'd call them tomorrow. Eddie seemed happy enough with that as he rolled onto his back, opening his arms for you to take your usual spot with your head on his chest.

"I love you," you sighed as your eyelids began to feel heavy, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

"Love you, too, princess," he whispered. "Goodnight."

Your niece woke both of you up entirely too early for a Saturday. She came into your bedroom, wiping sleep from her eyes with her favorite stuffed bear under her arm. She walked to the foot of your bed and crawled between your body and Eddie's. "Pancakes?" She asked sleepily as she pushed you almost to the edge of the mattress.

"Can I sleep for like, four more hours?" Eddie asked, voice barely audible. She shook her head against his chest. He giggled, now rubbing his own eyes as he started to wake up. He looked over her head to you with a fond smile. "Then I guess it's time for pancakes."

Each of you had a job to help with breakfast. Eddie made the blueberry pancakes, per your nieces request. You stood beside him, frying bacon in a pan. Your niece delegated drink duty to herself, pouring glasses of orange juice for each of you. It was nice, you thought to yourself. Just the three of you bopping around the kitchen while you prepared for your day. Eddie hummed to himself as he added a pancake to the growing stack on the platter next to him.

"We swimmin' today?" Your niece asked as she shoved a syrupy bite into her mouth. Eddie answered, humming positively as he took a sip of his coffee. "When?"

"Later," you answered.

"When later?"

"Can you even tell time?" Eddie asked with a giggle, earning a withering stare from her.

"I'm not sure what time," you told her. "I gotta call our friends and find out."

"Can you call them now?"

You looked at the clock over the stove. It was barely 8 in the morning. You knew that neither Steve or Robin would be awake this early, unless they were at work. You decided to wait, telling her that you'd call after breakfast.

Eddie ended up being the one to make the call. Your niece cornered him while you showered, using her flawless skills of coercion on him. You walked into the kitchen, rubbing your hair with a towel while he was on the phone.

"- rules about dirty little freeloaders using your pool?" You smiled as you stood there, just out of sight while Eddie listened. "You're amazing, Buckley. No, I mean that. I'm gonna commission a statue of you and put it right in the front yard. Of course, very tasteful. Okay, bye. Love you!"

He smiled as he turned to face your niece, who was bouncing on her toes as she waited for the verdict. "We're in, short stack," he announced, holding his open palm out for a high five.

"Yes!" She cried, her small hand slapping loudly against his. "I'm gonna go get ready."

She ran past you, barely sparing a glance in your direction as she ran to her bedroom. The door closed behind her as you walked into the kitchen. "We're getting a statue?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around the back of Eddie's neck. He snaked his hands around your waist, nodding.

"Just a little one," he answered. "She said she's gotta work, but if we give her a few hours she's gonna wake up Steve and force him to let us in."

"So, shouldn't we get a Steve statue then?"

Eddie scoffed, "Absolutely not," he answered, leaning forward to catch your lips in a soft, slow kiss. He traced his tongue along the seam of your lips. Just as you opened them, granting him further access, you heard a door open.

"I need help," came a small voice down the hall. Eddie groaned, tightening his grip around you when you tried to pull away. You satiated him with a quick peck before turning away towards where your niece was half into her swimsuit.

She was beyond agitated when you told her that you weren't going swimming right this second. You recognized the beginnings of a tantrum brewing. Her little hands balled into fists. She sucked in a deep breath, preparing to let out what you could only assume would be an earth shattering scream. Just as she was about to let loose, Eddie swooped in with a day saving move.

"I was gonna go get ice cream," he said casually as he shrugged into a t shirt. "But if you wanna stay here all day and be mad, then I guess I'll just sit back down-"

"Ice cream?" She asked, suddenly dropping her shoulders. Eddie nodded from his seat in the living room. "Can I get sprinkles?"

"Obviously," he answered. "That's the best part."

The small ice cream stand in the center of town had only been open for a few minutes when you all walked up to the window. You were glad to see it was Jenny working today instead of Miranda. Jenny liked her job, whereas Miranda seemed to have a personal grudge against every person who dared order ice cream from her.

"Two chocolate cones with sprinkles, and one vanilla with no sprinkles," Eddie ordered with a smile. He turned to face you as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. "For the boring and gorgeous love of my life who hates sprinkles for some reason." You only rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as he handed Jenny the cash.

You all collected your cones and walked to a bench a few yards away from the stand. Your niece sat on your lap while you all ate.

"We goin' swimming now?" She asked.

"Not quite," Eddie answered. "Don't you know you gotta wait 30 minutes after you eat or sharks will get you?"

"Pools don't have sharks." She deadpanned, licking at her ice cream.

"Oh," Eddie scoffed. "Didn't know you were a shark expert."

She turned to look at you. You had to laugh at her expression. She looked so much like her mother, who often gave you a similar look when your brother was acting some type of way.

"Pools don't have sharks," you confirmed. "Your uncle's just… well, I don't know what's wrong with him, honestly."

Eddie giggled, continuing to work on his own ice cream as it rapidly melted in his hand.

Eddie made one more stop on the way to the apartment building that sat on the south end of town. Your niece did nothing to hide her disappointment when Eddie parked the car in front of Melvalds general store.

"You said we were going swimming!" She whined, throwing her head back in annoyance.

"Well, I thought you might want some floaties or toys or something," Eddie told her. She perked back up instantly and began to scramble with her seatbelt before bolting out the back door, letting it fall closed behind her.

The water toys and accessories were pretty much front and center as soon as you pulled open the front door of the store. Your niece made a beeline for the toys and floating tubes. Eddie followed behind her, promising not to let her go crazy with purchases. You smiled to yourself, knowing full well that she was going to walk out of this store with anything she asked for. You walked down the opposite side of the aisle to where the necessities that you knew neither of them cared about were hung. You added a bottle of sunblock, a magazine, a hand pump for the floaties you were sure your niece would pick, three pairs of sunglasses, and some new beach towels to your basket. You originally picked out a plain pink towel for your niece, but put it back on the shelf in favor of the one right beside it. It was smaller than the others, obviously made for children, and featured a scene from the newest Disney princess movie. You knew she'd love it.

When you rounded the end of the aisle you couldn't help but laugh. There Eddie stood behind your niece, both arms full as she continued to shop. Your sandals clapped against the tile floor as you walked over to them. Eddie gave you a pitiful smile over the pile of boxes and toys he was hugging to his chest. From a cursory glance you saw three floating rafts and inflatable rings in matching colors, squirt guns, and a beach ball. He also had a purple plastic bucket dangling from his fingers, which your niece was in the process of filling.

"I told her she can only get what fits in the bucket," he told you in a weak attempt at defending himself. You giggled as you watched your niece add a pair of goggles to the two small dolls that were already in the bucket.

"They're mermaids," she told you when you picked one up. "And their hair changes colors!"

"They change colors, babe," Eddie parroted with a grin.

"One more toy," you told her in your best attempt at a stern voice.

"But Uncle Funshine said-"

"We won't be able to fit it all in the car if we listen to him," you told her, smiling up to Eddie as she returned to diligently scanning the shelves. She ended up choosing a florescent green frisbee as her final choice, even though it didn't fit in the bucket. You loaded all of your things into the trunk, handing out new sunglasses to everyone. They both looked so good, and so happy. You almost kicked yourself for not bringing your camera to commemorate the day.

Steve answered the door already dressed for the pool. It was surprising since you were pretty sure he was asleep less than an hour ago. He stepped back from the door, raising one arm to usher you all inside. Your niece was hesitant, having never met Steve. Eddie crouched down to her level and put one hand behind her back.

"This is Steve," he told her softly. "We're swimming in his pool."

"Hi, Steve," she said shyly, pulling a sympathetic look from Steve.

"Hello, honey," he answered. "Uh… so the bedrooms are empty if you guys need to change or anything."

"Cute of you to think this one would let us out of the house without swimsuits already on," Eddie told him, standing up straight and motioning to his black trunks. Steve looked to you just in time to see you pulling the black strap of your own swimsuit from the neck of your shirt.

"Well okay then," Steve said, clapping his hands in front of him. "What are we still doing inside?"

Once you were inside the black metal fence that surrounded the pool your niece immediately began to disrobe. She dropped her shirt and shorts in a pile before you told her to hand them to you. You folded them neatly and put them into one of the paper shopping bags to keep them dry. Eddie pulled his own shirt over his head and you had to force yourself to look away. The way his trunks hung low on his hips, showing off the bit of hair just below his belly button, accompanied by the mischievous wiggle of his brows as he handed his shirt to you. He knew what he was doing. You took a seat on a lounge chair near the pool and began to unpack your haul as Eddie and your niece stepped into the water.

"What do you think you're doing?" You asked, stopping both of them in their tracks. "I didn't buy sunblock just to put it on a shelf as decor. Get over here."

Both of them hung their heads as they trudged back to you. Eddie pulled the sunblock from the bag and squeezed a dollop into your open palm. You began to rub the lotion into your nieces arms and legs while Eddie did the same to himself. By the time you were finished with your niece, Eddie was holding the bottle out to you. "Help?" He asked, looking pitiful as he motioned over his shoulder with his head. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance as you took the bottle from him and stood from your seat. You squeezed a bit more sunblock into your hand and lathered up his back and shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his soft skin. Once you were done he turned back to face you.

"Thanks, babe," he said softly. "But I think you missed a spot." You gave him a questioning look, knowing that you had gotten every inch of him. He wagged his brows again, placing his hands on your hips as he looked down towards his crotch.

"Oh, get away from me," you laughed. He tightened his grip on your hips, pressing himself into you just a bit. "I'm gonna drown you." You threatened, though your smile told Eddie that there was no trace of malice in your words.

"Who's gonna make you pancakes if you drown me?"

"Steve."

Steve barked out a laugh from behind you. You turned to see him sitting on the chair beside the one you'd just vacated.

"You wound me, princess," Eddie whispered. "Now you have to kiss me or I'll think you don't love me anymore." You obliged, leaning into him as your lips met his.

"Can you guys stop?" Your niece called from where she was already in the water. She earned another loud laugh from Steve, who fell back against the seat, his hand over his stomach as cackled. You pressed another peck to Eddie's smiling lips, earning a loud groan from your niece as you pushed him away towards the pool. You sat back down on the lounge seat and began to open one of the floaties.

"What are you doin'?" Eddie called from the steps.

"Someone's gotta blow these up for you hooligans."

"Yeah," Steve called from his seat beside you. "Ya hooligans."

You smiled at him as he brought the beach ball to his lips to inflate it. You almost considered going back to the store and grabbing a second pump for him. But you didn't, instead telling yourself that you'd probably be done with the rest of them by the time he finished the beach ball. One by one you opened each of the floaties, pumped them up, and tossed them to Eddie and your niece.

You looked on happily while they played together. Your niece had her goggles on, absolutely convinced that they helped her see underwater. The pair would alternate between simply splashing water at each other and actual games, most of which were made up by the two of them. Their favorite seemed to be an Eddie original that he had dubbed Shipwreck. It was a fairly simple concept. Eddie would balance her on his shoulders and swim around for a bit. He’d don a happy smile and point out things around them like a cruise director.

“And if you look over here, you’ll see a tree,” he announced cheerily before pointing in an opposite direction. “And over there is… Oh, no. Oh, good god, it can’t be. Sea monsterrrrrrr!” He cried loudly, your niece giggling away above him before he fell backwards, dropping her like a sack of potatoes into the water. She came back to the surface, taking a deep breath before letting out another round of loud, high pitched laughter.

You loved it. You loved seeing the two of them interact. You loved the relationship they had, though they only saw each other a few times a year. It made sense, given that she was six years old and Eddie was basically an overgrown child himself. But still, you loved these moments with them. Just sitting back, watching them together. It pulled at your heartstrings, just a bit. You and Eddie had quickly and unanimously decided fairly early on that children were probably not in the cards for you. Babies didn’t really seem like fun to either of you. And neither of you were particularly jazzed at the idea of being wholly responsible for a human life other than your own. But sometimes, moments like these, a part of you would start to drift away and think about what a life with Eddie and a baby of your own might be like.

As you were finishing up the last of the rings, and before you could let your little daydream go too far, you heard the metal gate to the fence creak open. A woman a few years older than you walked through the gate, followed by three young kids.

"They saw you guys out here and decided it was time to swim," she told you with a laugh.

"Sorry," you laughed just before tossing the pink ring to Eddie.

"Oh, it's fine," she sighed as opened a magazine. "This'll tire them out so they'll sleep all afternoon. And then they're going to grandma's tonight, so it's fine by me."

You nodded, fully understanding and silently hoping for the same outcome with your own rugrat. You pulled your magazine from the bag it sat in as Steve stood from his seat, beach ball fully inflated in front of him. He dropped it and let it bounce off his toe towards the water before walking towards the edge of the pool. He lowered himself so that he was sitting on the edge before pushing off and into the water. You adjusted your sunglasses before settling back into the seat, thankful for the attached umbrella for providing some cover from the harsh summer sun.

"Aren't you gonna come in?" Your niece called to you.

"Maybe in a little bit," you answered.

"Come on, babe," Eddie begged. He swam to the edge of the pool, propping himself up on his elbows. The water from his arms left a large wet spot on the concrete. "The waters not freezing or anything."

"Yeah, come on, babe," Steve called from where he was treading near your niece.

"Yeah, Aunt Babe! It's fun!"

Eddie giggled, looking over his shoulder at her. His smile was beaming when he turned back to you. "Aunt Babe and Uncle Funshine," he laughed. "Sounds like the worst fuckin'comic book ever made."

"You'd probably still read it," you told him.

"Because I'm a glutton for punishment," he shrugged. His smile faltered just a bit as his voice quieted. "You are gonna come in, right? You're not just gonna sit up there all day?"

You sighed, dropping your magazine so that it covered your stomach. You still had your jean shorts and t-shirt on, your one piece black bathing suit underneath. Your niece had forced you into it, though you had no intention of swimming in public. Eddie sighed and pushed away from the side of the pool. You watched as he made his way to the steps and walked out of the water. It dropped off of him, leaving a trail of puddles and wet footprints on the concrete as he walked towards you. He placed his hands on the armrests on either side of the chair. He leaned close to you, his wet curls falling, hitting your shoulders.

"I love you," he whispered. You smiled, feeling a blush crawl across your cheeks. "And I think you look sexy as hell in your swimsuit. But more importantly, I think that nobody but me will care what you look like. Like, I'll probably want to take you up to Steve's apartment and do unholy things to you in his bed," he smirked, seeing the flush on your cheeks deepen from pink to red. "But I'll be good, I promise." He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You knew he meant every word he just said. That he thought you were sexy. That nobody else would care about what your body looks like in a swimsuit. That given the chance he'd happily defile Steve's bed with you. But you just couldn't shake the insecurities. Having been a bigger girl for as long as you can remember, those harsh judgements from other kids were burned into your brain. Every cruel name, every barnyard related insult, all of it.

Eddie stood up straight and turned back in the direction he'd come from. You watched the wet footprints dry up and disappear beneath the hot sun. Suddenly, your jeans and t-shirt felt constricting. Too hot to be wearing when it was 90° before noon. You called out to Eddie, stopping him in tracks just as he was about to step into the water. He watched as you reached down to the ground beside your chair, grabbing the sunblock. You held it out to him, silently asking for help. He grinned as he walked towards you, taking the bottle from you as he watched you lift your shirt over your head.

"Think Steve would notice if we disappeared for like ten minutes," he asked as you bent over to add your clothes to the paper bag that held everyone else's. You giggled, pulling your hair into a messy ponytail as you heard the cap of the sunblock open.

The lotion was cold. It shocked you just a little when it touched your hot skin. Your eyes fell closed as Eddie's hands began to work it into your skin. Once was done with your back, he placed one hand on your shoulder to turn you towards him. He expertly rubbed the lotion into your arms and chest, smirking to himself as he watched your skin turn pink beneath his fingers.

"Ready to swim?" He asked quietly, closing the bottle and dropping it onto your chair. You only nodded, smiling up at him.

Your niece shrieked with delight as you followed Eddie into the water.

“See?” She cried excitedly as you swam to join her and Steve. “Isn’t this so much fun!”

“It’s the most fun I’ve ever had,” you told her.

You felt Eddie’s hand slide behind your back beneath the water as he pressed into your side. “Me, too,” he whispered in your ear. You looked up at him to find that he was staring directly down the top of your swimsuit, your cleavage on full display from his vantage point. You pushed him away, repeating your threat to drown him as you and your niece began to work together to splash him mercilessly.

The rest of the afternoon was much of the same. Your little group would alternate between splashing and actually playing. Even the other woman’s kids begged Eddie for a turn at Shipwreck. He happily gave everyone a turn, once he’d okayed it with their mother. He was a natural with kids, you noted. They all seemed to love him. They loved his cruise director voice. They loved his wild attitude. They loved his tattoos, and his crazy hair when he’d break through the top of the water and whip it over his head, sending a burst of water cascading around him. You felt that familiar tug, your mind beginning to wander again.

Steve exited the pool suddenly, grabbing his towel from his chair before heading to the gate.

“You bored of us already, Stevie?” Eddie asked.

“Gonna grab us some waters, if that’s okay with you.”

“We are literally surrounded by water,” Eddie deadpanned.

“But you probably shouldn’t drink it,” Steve told him, closing the gate behind him. A few minutes later Steve returned with water bottles in hand, distributing them to your little group and offering some to the other woman and her kids. A little later a blue car with a Pizza Hut light on top pulled into the parking lot. Steve stood from his seat and met the pimple faced teenager at the gate, handing him some folded bills as he took the pizza from him.

“Lunch is served,” he announced as he set the pizza box on a table and flipped the lid open.

Everyone exited the pool and wrapped their new beach towels around themselves as they ate. You and Steve decided to stay out of the water after you finished. Eddie and your niece, however, were having none of that. Neither of them seemed to be done playing for the day. You and Steve sat back and watched them, smiling to yourselves as you did.

A few hours later, your niece finally allowed you all to leave. You asked Steve to borrow Robin's camera, begging him to take a picture of the three of you. He did so happily, saying that if Robin had anything to say about the missing photo, he’d set her straight. Your niece posed for the photo, one arm around and one around Eddie beside the pool. She yawned loudly as the photo printed from the bottom of the camera, and you took her back to the apartment to change back into her normal clothes. She fell asleep as soon as you began to drive her back to your house. You wondered if this meant that she wouldn’t sleep tonight. But as you looked back to where she was slumped over in her seat, her mouth hanging open as she slept, she looked so precious that you could’t find it in you to care.

Dinner that night was a cookout in the backyard. Eddie had been so excited about having a real yard that he’d gone out and bought a grill as soon as you moved in. And he loved taking any opportunity that he could to fire it up. Eddie manned the grill outside while your niece "helped" you to prepare sides inside. You tasked her with shucking the corn while you popped some potatoes into the oven. She hated it, complaining loudly that the "hairs" were getting stuck to her. Eventually, you took the corn cob in her hand and sent her outside to help her uncle. You walked out a few minutes later, carrying plates and drinks to the small table you'd gotten at a garage sale two weeks prior. The first thing you saw when you opened the door was that she had pulled a chair over to the grill and was standing on it, watching while Eddie flipped burgers.

She smiled over her shoulder to you when she heard the back door open. "You gonna help, too?" She asked.

"I'm helping inside," you told her.

"Come here and help, Aunt Babe," Eddie told you. He was still facing the grill, but you could hear the cheeky smile in his voice. You set the plates and drinks on the table and went to Eddie's empty side. He threw an arm around the back of your neck and pulled you close enough to plant a kiss to your temple. "So what's goin' on inside the castle?"

"Corn in the cauldron, potatoes in the oven," you answer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Ah," he sighed, almost triumphantly. "A feast fit for royalty."

After dinner you had to force her into a bath. She fought back, claiming that she was clean from swimming.

"Do you have any idea how many chemicals they put into pools?"

"No."

"Okay," you giggled at her honesty. "Well it's a lot, and you need to wash them off. And out of your hair."

Eventually, after promising as many bed time stories as she wanted, you got her into the tub. You once again let your mind wander a bit as you messaged conditioner into her hair. You wondered if your baby would have hair like hers, fine and stick straight. Or would it be thick and curly like Eddie's? Would you have a little girl, with Eddie's attitude and your laugh? Or a little boy, with your eyes and Eddie's smile?

After she was clean and dry, you brushed her hair and helped her into her pajamas. She walked with you to the kitchen where Eddie was snacking on a plain hot dog that was probably lukewarm at best.

"Will you read to me?" She asked him.

"'Course," Eddie answered before shoving the last half of the hot dog into his mouth. He shot you a sly wink as he walked past you, towards her bedroom.

You smacked him lightly on the shoulder, pulling a giggle from him. "Edward!" You scolded playfully.

Your niece stopped in her tracks, turning back to face you. She had one eyebrow raised high on her head. The picture of confusion as she looked between you and Eddie. "Edward?" She asked slowly, like she wasn't sure if she was saying it correctly.

"Don't say that, honey," Eddie told her. "It's a bad word."

"Like butthead?"

"Yes," you giggled while Eddie tried, and failed, to glare at you. "Edward is exactly like butthead."

She accepted your answer, seemingly adding Edward to her mental list of words not to say. She took Eddie's hand in hers and led him down the hallway and into her bedroom. You giggled as you turned to begin packing away the leftovers from dinner. You placed the Tupperware bowls into the fridge, right next to the untouched leftovers from the previous night. After the dishes were done and put away you popped your head in to check on them.

You poked your head into the room to find them cuddled up together in the small bed. Eddie's feet nearly touching the end of the bed as his back rested against the wall behind him. Your niece was laid against him, using his forearm as a pillow while he read Cat In The Hat to her. They both turned To face you in unison as the door opened slowly.

"How's it going in here?"

"This pesky little cat is causing all types of mischief," Eddie answered.

"Yeah," she agreed with a yawn. "He's a bad cat."

"Well, that's not good," you told them. "I'm gonna go to bed, okay? Goodnight, jelly bean."

She yawned again, her jaw opening wide before she bid you goodnight. As you closed the door behind you, you heard Eddie start up the story again. His Cat voice was similar to the voice he assigned the chubby raccoon outside your old apartment last summer.

You got comfortable in bed with your own book. Eddie could be a bed hog, and you'd never admit it to him but you cherished moments when you'd get the whole bed to yourself without him spreading his limbs across all of it. At first you could hear him reading aloud in the other room. But as you got more and more into your own book, his voice faded into background noise. According to your alarm clock beside the bed, you read for about 40 minutes before you realized that he still hadn't come to bed. You marked your spot in your book and set it beside the alarm clock before leaving the room on a mission to rescue Eddie from your promise of infinite bedtime stories.

You slowly pushed the bedroom door open and nearly melted into the green carpet in the hallway. The pair were in a similar, yet much more cozy position as you'd left them. Only this time, both of them were fast asleep. She was curled into Eddie's side, her little head resting on his chest. He had one arm wrapped around her with his head slumped to the side as small snores fell from his open lips. A new book sat open across his stomach. "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" in a pretty blue font across the hard cover.

You tiptoed and quickly and as quietly as you could down the hall and into the living room to grab your camera. This was without a doubt something you'd want to remember. You snapped off a photo of the two of them so peacefully asleep. You set the photo and the camera on the kitchen table and walked back into the bedroom. You kneeled next to Eddie, placing a hand on his thigh and shaking it just slightly.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," you whispered softly, your lips close to his ear.

He woke up just as peacefully as he'd been sleeping. His dark eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light you hadn't thought to turn off. He took a deep breath through his nose. His eyes found your hand on his leg and you watched a smile bloom over his face as they traced from your hand up to your face.

"Hi, baby," he said, quiet voice already gravely with sleep.

"You wanna come to bed, or am I being replaced?"

His smile grew as he looked down to where your niece was tucked into his side. "She doesn't snore," he answered playfully. You rolled your eyes as he bent his head down to gently kiss the top of her head. It was almost funny watching Eddie, all gangly limbs and no coordination, try to untangle himself from a sleeping six year old without waking her. Luckily for both of you, she took after your brother when it came to sleep. A MAC truck could bust right through the living room and neither of them would stir. You replaced Eddie with her favorite stuffed bear and had to bite back a sigh when she clutched it tightly to herself in her sleep. Eddie threaded his fingers with yours, leading you out of the room and closing the door behind him.

"She tricked me," Eddie laughed as he changed into a pair of cotton sleep pants.

"You're a grown man," you laughed.

"She used magic baby sleeping potion or something."

"Oh, well I didn't realize she was armed when I sent you in there."

Eddie crawled beneath the comforter beside you. You gave him a kiss, smiling as you turned over. His chest was warm and solid as he pressed into your back. His hand dipped below the hem of your tank top, finding purchase on your soft, supple stomach. He rubbed his thumb over your skin as he spoke again. "Shoulda known," he told you. "You have the same shit."

"I have magic baby sleeping potion?"

"Yes."

"I'm not a baby."

You could actually feel him rolling his eyes behind you. He tightened his hold on you, pressing even closer to you. "You're my baby," he told you. "And I mean it when I say I never slept as good as I do now before I met you. You're magic."

"And you're a sap."

"Not a sap, just a lucky bastard who knows how good I got it." You hummed and wiggled your butt against him. He backed away just slightly, whispering in your ear in a tone that went straight to your core. "Unless you wanna make her a cousin tonight, you better stop."

You laughed, feeling a blush crawl over your face and down your neck. You didn't want to stop, but you did. You were not going to be the one to traumatize your niece with your sex noises in the next room.

Sunday morning started much the same as Saturday had. Your niece sleepily crawled in bed between you and Eddie. She quietly asked for pancakes. Eddie tried to bribe her for more sleep. She had none of it and the three of you made breakfast in your pajamas. The only difference was that you were out of bacon, so it was eggs this morning. She made a mess as she helped to scramble them in a bowl. But you loved having the time to spend with her, so you didn't even mind wiping up the goopy yolks with a paper towel.

"I gotta wash my clothes," she announced suddenly. You and Eddie exchanged a confused look, before turning to her in unison. "I'm out of clothes."

"Clothes for what?" Eddie asked.

"For tomorrow."

"You're going back to grandma and grandpa's today," you told her, almost sadly. "I'm sure they have clean clothes for you."

"But I want to keep staying here."

Eddie dropped his fork to his plate, his gaze almost heavy as he looked over to you. You knew you'd have to be the bad guy today. You would have to be the one to put your foot down. You loved Eddie, but right now you found yourself hating how soft he could be. Especially when it came to her.

"Don't you miss your parents?" You asked.

"A little," she admitted. "But I'm gonna miss you guys more."

"We're gonna hang out some more before you go home with mommy and daddy," you explained softly. "But we both gotta work tomorrow morning and it wouldn't be very fun for you to stay here all day by yourself, would it?"

She looked at her half eaten breakfast in front of her. She seemed to be considering what you were saying, trying to understand. "I could go swimming with Steve again." She announced.

Eddie barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. "I bet Steve would love to go swimming with you again, but he probably has to work, too."

"But maybe I'll see if we can go over again before you leave," you told her. "How does that sound?"

She perked back up at the promise of another day in the pool. She still seemed a little upset at not being able to stay with you and Eddie forever, but you knew it would be short lived.

After breakfast you and Eddie offered up different things you could do before she went back to her parents. Shopping, the park, mini golf, ice cream. But she didn't want to do any of those. She opted for a day in with the two of you and as many free children's movies as Kieth would let you rent from the Family Video. The limit, it turned out, was five. Once you were home with your little haul of movies, your niece chose to watch Scamper The Penguin first. She snuggled into Eddie's side as she watched the little penguin and his friends adventures, yawning as the movie came to an end. The next on her list was The Little Mermaid. You stood from the couch to replace the tape, usually a task delegated to Eddie. Once you sat back down beside them, your niece shuffled to your side of the couch, resting her head on your lap. She was out like a light in the first half hour of what she had claimed was her favorite movie ever.

Eddie smiled down at her and rested his arm over the back of the couch. You reached up, placing your hand over his as the movie played. It was mostly forgotten, neither of you paying much attention to the antics of the voiceless teenager on the screen. Just when it seemed like Ursula, the evil mermaid who had stolen Ariel's voice, was going to win the phone rang in the kitchen. Eddie stood with an exaggerated grunt and went to answer it. You listened from your spot on the couch.

"Hello?" He answered, turning to lean back against the counter. "She's nappin' on your sister right now, but we can wake her up. Yes, we did. Thanks for signing us up for pool duty, by the way."

You smiled to yourself as you listened to his side of the call. You always liked how easily Eddie seemed to get along with your family. He joked around with your brother like you did. Your parents adored him, telling you frequently that he was a catch and that you should hurry and get married already.

Eddie hung up the call and walked back into the living room. "They're on their way to steal her," he announced with a sigh. He bent over, his hand coming to your sleeping nieces shoulder. He whispered softly to her, slowly pulling her from her nap with the news that her parents were on their way. She blinked her eyes open, staring at him almost confused for just a moment before sitting up. She yawned, stretching her little arms over her head before going into the guest room to gather her things.

When your brother arrived he greeted both you and Eddie with hugs before turning his attention to his daughter.

"Ya have fun?" He asked.

"Yes!" She answered excitedly. "Uncle Funshine said we can go swimming again with Steve before we go home. Right?" She looked up at Eddie with those big, pleading eyes that he was absolutely weak against. He laughed, and confirmed that they would go swimming at least once more.

"Who's Steve?" Your brother asked you.

"He's Aunt Babe's cute friend."

"Aunt Babe?" He asked, eyebrows rising comically. "And he's cute?" Your niece suddenly got shy, wringing her hands into the front of her shirt as she shrugged off the accusation that she might just think that Steve Harrington was cute. You made a mental note to tell him when you called later.

"I don't think he's anything special," Eddie interjected casually. "But if the little miss thinks he's cute, who am I to argue?"

Your brother nodded, smiling around a laugh that was too much like your dad's. He scooped his daughter up like it was nothing, taking her backpack from you and swinging it over his shoulder. He told her to say goodbye, announcing that they were going back to grandma and grandpa's. She waved at you and Eddie, almost sad as her father said his own goodbyes before leaving.

You and Eddie fell onto the couch in unison after closing the door behind them. It was almost muscle memory at this point to snuggle into him. He put one arm up, beckoning you to him. You wrapped your arms around him and you rested your head against his chest.

"Sometimes when she's here I almost want to rethink the whole baby thing," you admitted.

Eddie chuckled, running his hand up and down your arm. "You say that every time she's here, and two days later you change your mind again."

"I know, but I can't help it. I just love her so much."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I do, too."

You turned to look up at him. "Would you ever want to rethink it?"

"Dunno," he answered. "Doesn't help that you've been on the pill since before we met. And we use condoms."

"Not all the time," you told him.

"Yeah, and when we don't, I always pull out 'cause I love seeing that pretty belly all covered in my cum."

"Jesus," you gasped. You felt your cheeks go warm as you turned to face the TV once again.

"What?" Eddie asked, a smile evident in his voice. "You're the one talking about making babies."

"I was talking about having babies," you corrected. "Raising them. Not making them, ya little perv."

“Okay, well excuse me for getting confused, but ya know you can’t have the baby without making it first.”

You looked up at him again. His eyes were dark, you could feel the bulge beginning to form in his jeans. “You wanna make a baby with me?” You asked, your voice dipping into a husky tone.

“I’d certainly like to try.”

“Yeah?” You asked, barely louder than a whisper. He was already leaning towards you, nodding his head as a small ‘uh huh’ fell from his parted lips.

The moment his lips met yours, it was heated. It was messy and desperate and passionate. His hand cupped your jaw as he moved to lie you down. Your back hit the couch softly. He moved to hover over you, his free hand supporting him on the back of the couch.

“Want me to fill you up? Huh?” He asked between kisses. “Want my babies?”

You nodded as his lips trailed across your cheek and down your jaw. Your soft whimpers were offset by the deep, low growls coming from Eddie above you. He pulled back from you after a moment, towering over you as he straightened his back. He was still perched on his knees between your open thighs but he seemed so much taller than you as you lay beneath him. He took the hem of your shirt in his hands and expertly pulled it over your head, tossing it across the room like it burned his hand to hold it. He cupped your breasts over your bra, a cocky sort of smile on his face as he kneaded your flesh in his palms.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moaned. He leaned down, connecting his lips to yours as his hands snaked around your back to unclasp your bra. He dropped it beside the couch as his hands traveled lower down your body. His warm, soft palms mapped every inch of your body as he made his way to the button on your jeans. He moved to kiss your neck as he popped the button open, the zipper slowly following.

“Been waiting to taste you all weekend, baby,” he sighed into your neck as he tucked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans. “You looked so fuckin’ hot in your bathing suit. And poor little me, I couldn’t even do anything about it.”

You lifted your hips as he pulled your jeans down your legs, leaving you in just your panties. He dropped your jeans on top of your discarded bra beside the couch. He once again straightened his back so that he was above you. You bit your lip as you watched him shuffle back on his knees. The anticipation alone was enough to have you soaking through the cotton that covered your core.

He gently pulled your underwear down your thighs. Once they reached your knees he lifted your legs one at a time to slide your feet though the holes. He planted soft, open mouthed kisses to your knees in turn before letting them fall back to the couch. Once you were naked beneath him his smile turned downright deadly. He laid down on his stomach, his shoulders between your knees as he gazed up at you.

“Love you so much, baby,” he sighed as he wrapped one hand around your thigh. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head when his pillowy lips finally wrapped around your aching clit. He used two fingers of his free hand to split your folds before dipping his middle finger into your entrance. You mewled, overwhelmed his sensation as he began to move the single finger in and out of you.

“Fuck,” you whined. “God, baby, need more.”

Eddie obliged, like you knew he would. He added a second finger without missing a beat. He began to lap at your clit with his tongue, timing it with the thrusts of his fingers. He groaned, sending a shock of vibrations through you. You reached between your legs and took his long curls between your fingers. He groaned again, and you couldn’t help but to tighten your grip.

Your legs began to shake as Eddie expertly worked you to your orgasm. His tongue and fingers knew you so well. Knew exactly how to get you to the best orgsams of your life. The knot deep in your core suddenly snapped as he curled his fingers inside of you. You came loudly, a broken cry of his name falling from your open mouth like water from a fountain. Eddie kept his speed, never faltering for a second as he allowed your release to wash over his face and hand. You knew he loved it. He’d told you as much when you started dating all those years ago.

Once you finally floated back to earth, you pulled your hands away from his hair. Your signal that you were done. That he needed to stop if he didn’t want to overstimulate you. Eddie sat up on his knees and used his fingers to gather up every drop of your orgasm from his chin. Once he was satisfied that he had gotten every delicious drop, he pulled his own shirt over his head. You reached forward and began to undo his belt as he tossed his shirt behind him.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” He giggled as you fumbled with the buckle. He moved your hands out of the way and undid the belt in record time. You expected him to stand and drop his jeans onto the floor. Instead, he only pulled down the zipper and pushed his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his rock hard cock.

You felt yourself begin to salivate as you watched him wrap his hand around himself. He groaned as he gave a few soft tugs to his shaft. His other hand fell to your knee as he shuffled forward just a bit.

He ran the head of his cock through your fold a few times. You jolted when he made contact with your sensitive clit, earning a smile from him each time. It felt like a sick sort of mercy when he finally plunged himself into you, bottoming out with no warning. He fell on top of you, planting his hand into the cushion beside your head.

“Love fuckin’ you like this, princess,” he moaned into your ear. “Soft and warm and tight, just for me.”

You wanted to answer him. You wanted to tell him that you loved it, too. That it was all for him. That he was the only one who could ever make you feel this good. But the words escaped you as he slowly pulled himself out of you. You held your breath as you waited for him to move. When he did, all you could do was let out a noise that fell somewhere between a moan and a cry. You felt him smile into your neck as he set a brutal pace. In and out, in and out. Quick and hard and exactly what you both needed.

You dug your nails into the backs of his shoulders as you felt a second orgasm building. “Can you cum again for me, princess?” He asked, punctuating every other word with another hard thrust. “Can you cum all over my cock for me, baby?”

You nodded quickly. Your eyes wrenched closed as he continued to fuck you. Each thrust pushed you closer and closer to the edge and you knew that this would be a big one.

“Fuck, fuck, fu-” You whined with each thrust. “Gonna- ah, fuck-”

“Yeah,” he moaned into your ear. “Yeah, baby, wanna feel you cum around me. Yeah, just like that.” Each word was accompanied by another deep thrust.

Finally you couldn’t stop it. Your orgasm hit you hard. You saw stars behind your eyelids as Eddie continued, his pace picking up just slightly as you came. He groaned as you clenched around him.

Without a moment to spare, Eddie suddenly pulled out of you. He sat up straight on his knees above you one last time. Just like before, his left hand sat on your knee while his right hand wrapped tightly around himself. He tugged twice before you felt his hot cum hitting against your skin. He covered your stomach and chest with his load. You reveled in the low, gravelly moans that were coming from him as he milked himself all over you.

“Fuck,” he sighed as the last few drops of his cum dribbled from the red, angry head of his cock.

“That’s not how you make a baby,” you panted as he began to drag his finger through the mess he’d made on your stomach.

“Couldn’t help it,” He shrugged as he gathered some of his cum between two of his fingers. “You just look so fuckin’ good. Layin’ there, naked and covered in cum. Fuckin’ masterpiece, babe.”

You reached out and grabbed his wrist. His brows furrowed almost pathetically as you wrapped your lips around his fingers. You swirled your tongue, collecting his cum before swallowing.

"We can't have babies," he announced, breathing heavily. "I really love being able to fuck you into the couch on Sunday afternoons and we probably can't do that if we have kids running around the house."

He giggled to himself as he stood from the couch. He bent over to retrieve his shirt from the floor, wiping himself with it before tucking his spent cock back into his jeans. He left the fly unzipped as he kneeled on one knee beside the church and turned his attention to you. The cheap cotton scratched against your skin as he began to clean his cum from your stomach. As you watched him, you couldn't help but to be a little disappointed with what he'd said. You loved him. You loved him more than anyone. The kind of love that would have you stepping in front of a bus for him.

"You really don't want kids with me?" You asked quietly as he was finishing cleaning you up. "Like, you don't even want to talk about it?"

He was almost surprised when he looked up at you. His dark eyebrows were hidden beneath the blunt cut of his bangs. His eyes were wide, almost sorry looking. You couldn't blame him, really. You were the one who had been the most adamant about not wanting kids. Eddie was more go with the flow. A very "if it happens, it happens" kind of mindset.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?" He asked. "Right now I'd give you my left eye if you asked for it. And that's a conversation we should have with level heads, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed with a small nod. "You're right."

He offered a small smile before taking your hand in his and planting a lingering kiss to the back. He stood up, pulling you by the hand into a sitting position. "Come on, babe," he said softly. "Let's take a shower." You grinned, always happy at the idea of a shower with Eddie. You followed him into the bathroom and let him wash your hair, his long fingers massaging your scalp before you did the same for him.

You did talk the next day. And then again a few years later. And once more when your niece was 13. Each time was after their annual summer vacation visit. And each time, you would sit down with Eddie and ultimately decide that you had made the right choice. You were both happy with the life you made together. You were happy to have a niece, and eventually two nephews, to love and spoil and watch grow up. And that was enough for the two of you.

~~~~~

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