#honestly if someone wants to actually write this fic feel free to do it

[dark-dragon-8]

I want to see a fic where Tim and some other Batfamily member do the whole "I don't feel so good" "Maybe you're pregnant" meme, but the Batfamily doesn't know he's trans. So what happens is, he's actually panicking, thinking he may have forgotten to take his pills before sex and noting how he didn't get his period in a while (as a girl, I can confidently say that my period always feels like it's coming late or not coming at all, IDK you just forget when you're supposed to get it if you're not too attentive to it).

Que the Batkid that told him that (let's say it was Jason) laughing his ass off because Tim is actually worried about this, he's a man, he can't get pregnant yet for some reason he's getting worried.

Fast forward a week later, on the next family dinner, when Tim announces his pregnancy (the results came back positive) and lets the family know he was AFAB both at the same time. They're all speechless, not knowing if they should be worried, excited or just accepting & happy for him (which they were going to be anyway).

Bonus: In the background, Jason is blue screening because, he was right?!? And does that mean Tim would've kept on going on patrol and live life as normal if he hadn't said anything?! God, this kid, he's going to be the death of them all.

[I might actually write it, honestly, I just need to find the time, but I also want to read this from someone else's perspective on the story, so feel free to use this and please 🙏 do recommend some fic recs if you know/have any]

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[ashwhowrites]

Just found all your wonderful angst fics and honestly I feel like there is a distinct lack of HURTS SO GOOD angst out there. So I am DE-LIGH-TED to have found you. Thank you for your words and your writing. ❤️

But I have a request because of course I do! Eddie Munson!

So: angst: 30, 32 and then fluff: 16 and angry confessions 9 (except if I may be extra needy and request that we change the her in 30 to a them? Twins. One boy and the other authors choice.)

The idea: Eddie and reader started dating at Hawkins High and about a year or two after graduating someone from a label hears the band and wants an EP recorded in an actual studio! The band travels to the nearest studio.

When Eddie returns he tells reader that his dream is coming true the label is ready to sign them and they want them to start touring this year and opening for bigger bands to get their name out.

Reader overhears Eddie talking with the label guy. Eddie wants to bring reader on the tour and label guy shuts it down and says ‘end the relationship so you can actually enjoy the fame.’ He asks if Eddie is gonna marry reader and Eddie gets nervous and says idk, reader is hurt by that. Label guy asks if they have kids and Eddie is a little too enthusiastic in saying no and he doesn’t know if he wants kids. (Insecure about what kind of dad he’d be) and label guy tells Eddie this tour will make or beak his future and he needs no distractions. And a girl back home? Distracting.

Reader is then horrified that she’ll ruin Eddie’s dream. She breaks up with him before the tour, hiding the real reason. She wants him to have his dream even if it kills hers. Eddie leaves on tour mad and heartbroken.

Reader finds out she is pregnant after Eddie leaves. The band is supposed to come back to Hawkins after a few months on tour. Eddie promised he and reader would talk more about their relationship and reader will tell him then.

The band is insanely successful on tour. Eddie doesn’t come back. Doesn’t answer calls, letters. Reader stops trying after a year.

The twins are around five when Eddie, now a known rockstar, returns to his hometown. Meet-cute of adorable twins and Eddie occurs.

You ARE the father!

Eddie and reader talk/fight. But happy ending when all is said and done, back together and a family.

Sorry this is so long but ily and your writing❤️❤️❤️

I hope this is what you wanted and thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻 I did only pick the two you resent, thank you for that! I feel like this fic is a bit all over the place but I think I included everything you asked 🤞🏻

I just sent that long request and I’m so sorry I didn’t see the no more than two limit on the prompt list link. Please feel free to shorten those to angst 30 and fluff 16 Thank you.

"There's not a single reason I can't think of for me to let you see her. You may be her father, but I'm her everything"

"I never thought I could miss someone this much"

"Baby you will not believe what just happened!" Eddie said as he came rushing out from the backroom. He was drenched in sweat, as he finished his set with the band.

"What?" Y/N asked, she pushed back his sweaty bangs and his hands landed on her hips

"This dude from some label liked our set! He wants us to visit his studio and perform a few songs. Then if he likes it, he'll sign us!" Y/N smiled as her boyfriend's eyes were bright with happiness. His smile was so huge and his voice was loud.

"That's amazing, oh my god!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. She didn't mind the sweat, she had been with Eddie for years and grew used to it.

The next day Y/N waited in their small apartment as Eddie attended the studio. She paced through their carpet as she stared at the door. She was so nervous for him, this could be his big break. And if he didn't get it, she wasn't sure how he would handle it.

She ran to the door as she heard the lock turn, giving him no time to walk into the house when she raced out all her questions. He smiled as her mouth ran until she almost lost breath, he leaned in and pecked her lips.

"Good?" he asked, a small chuckle leaving his lips

"Yeah, sorry," she said as she took in as much air as she could. She let him through the door and waited for him to speak. He closed the door and turned to her with a smirk.

"Well?" she asked, smacking his arm as she bounced on her feet

"Want to have sex with a newly signed rockstar?" he asked, opening his arms as he knew his girlfriend too well.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed with excitement, throwing herself in his arms. She was practically jumping in his arms. He was damn excited too, and his heart felt full of how happy she was for him. He never would have made it without her.

"And! He wants us to tour next month, open for some other bands of his to get our name out there!"

Y/N pulled back to see his face but stayed in his arms.

"Next month? For how long?" she asked. She was happy this was going to happen for him, but she was sad at how fast he would be yanked from her.

"Just a few months, less than a year. But I promise I'm not leaving you behind, okay?" she smiled at his words, nodding as she softly placed her lips on his.

"Shall we celebrate Mr. Rockstar?" she whispered against his lips, teasing him as she bit his lower lip. "In the bedroom."

"I think I wanna celebrate right here," Eddie growled, wasting no time as he smashed his lips on hers and tasted her mouth with his tongue. He pressed her body against the door and was fast to unbuckle his jeans.

~~~

A few days passed when Nick, the label guy, showed up at their apartment. Y/N left Eddie with a kiss and headed to their bedroom as the band talked. The walls were thin so she could hear the conversation, but still wanted to feel as she gave them privacy.

They talked about the basics of everything and Y/N tried not to listen in too much. But once she heard the band leave and her name was brought up, she couldn't help but listen in.

"I want to do this tour, and I know the band wants it. But my girl is here, she and I haven't been separated in years. She is in full support and I want her to come with," Eddie explained. Y/N smiled at his words, her heart beaming with love.

"Does she have a ring on her finger?" Nick asked, Y/N couldn't see his face but he sounded annoyed.

"Well no but-"

"Are you going to put a ring on her finger anytime soon?"

Y/N held her breath as she waited for Eddie's response

Eddie stuttered as his throat felt dry, "Well..I..I don't know." he chuckled uncomfortably

Well that hurt, Y/N thought. They had been together for over three years and he had no time frame of when he wanted to get engaged? Was he even thinking of a ring?

"Got any kids with her?" Nick asked

"Hell no," Eddie laughed, "Pretty sure I don't even want any."

Y/N felt her heart snap into two. This whole time she thought they were dreaming of the same future. She wanted a ring and kids with Eddie, and it hurt like hell that he was on a different page.

"Son, you are about to go on a world tour. You are going to be in a different state every night. Let the girl go and enjoy the fame. This is your first and only chance to make something of yourself. You don't want distractions. She's a chick, and chicks bring drama. You pick Eddie."

Y/N blinked away tears as the front door slammed shut. She was quick to jump in bed when she heard Eddie begin walking to the room.

~

Y/N was up all night as she repeated Nick's words in her head. She couldn't make Eddie choose between his dream and her. She could feel how tense his body was as he slept, Nick's words weighing him down too.

She knew Eddie loved her too much to break up with her, and he wouldn't break his promise of not leaving her behind. But he needed to go, he needed this for his career. She loved him strong enough to let him go without her.

~~~

"Eddie? Can we talk?"

Eddie looked up from his guitar, brown eyes worried. "What's wrong?" He was quick to grab her hand and pull her between his legs. He sat on the bed and she stood before him, tears in her eyes.

"You know how we talked about me staying here while you go on tour?"

"Yeah, but only because of Nick. If I could have it my way, you'd be right there," he said with a smile as he softly rubbed her hand.

She hated how sweet he was, it was making this all much harder.

"I'm a little worried about us being separated that long," she said

"Trust me, I'm coming home to you and none of my feelings are going to change just because of the distance" he tried to reassure her. He knew Y/N was the love of his life and he'd never ruin what they had.

"What if things on the road change your beliefs? You know, what if..." She slowly trailed off.

"What if, what?" He asked, confused as he looked in her eyes for answers.

"What if you meet someone else? There's going to be a lot of girls throwing themselves at you"

"They can throw themselves at me as much as they want, they'd never make me forget about you. I love you and I'd never ruin what we have for a random girl on the road," he explained

"I don't know if I can believe you," she lied, "what if you get in trouble with drugs? And you can't stop and fall addicted? You have many addicts in your family and one weak moment, you might find a girl to make it feel better," she could see her words were starting to take effect on him. His eyes gloss over with anger, but that's what she needed. He didn't need her holding him back and being a distraction.

"Wow," he scoffed, standing up. "I haven't touched any other drug except weed my whole life. And you think I'm that stupid that I'd dive right into hard core shit just because I'm on tour? I can get the same shit down the block!" He argued.

"Have you ever been tempted?" She asked

"Fuck no, but you probably wouldn't believe that either," he said as he rolled his eyes. "I mean we've been together for years, I understand this is a big change for us, but why do you suddenly think I won't have any self control?"

Because I'm making all of this up so you'll leave pissed off and I won't be a distraction, she thought.

She was silent and Eddie felt himself growing angier by it.

"Because I won't be there!"

"Oh now the truth comes out. You don't think I can say no. You think a slutty girl will jump on my lap and you think I'll just love it and fuck her. Then she'll bring me to a party with hard drugs and before I know it I'm snorting drugs off her body." He laughed, but it had no humor behind it. She knew she was hurting him but that meant everything was working.

"If you really think that I would cheat on you, then maybe we weren't as strong as I thought" he added, his voice a little sad as he sat back down.

"I think it's best if we take a break while you're on tour. And you can do whatever you want on it, and we'll talk when you come back."

Eddie nodded at her words. He didn't agree with anything but he wasn't going to try to change her mind. She had this view of him and he couldn't fix it.

~~~

The first few weeks with Eddie gone was hell. Y/N cried every morning and every night. She was in so much pain and hated she couldn't reach for him. She wanted to call and tell him the truth, that everything was a lie and she did it so he could be happy. But the suffering was becoming too much and she just wanted to be with him again, in his arms and in his heart. She couldn't forget the broken look in his eye when he left, the loudness of the door as it slammed.

She found out she was pregnant, adding more guilt to her life. He was supposed to come home at the end of the month, and he promised before he left that they would talk about their relationship. He didn't want to give up on them and she believed that.

But then the end of the month came and she hadn't heard a word. Her calls went unanswered and his body never walked through the front door. She wanted to tell him she was pregnant when she saw him in person again but she wasn't sure went that would be. She didn't know if he was in town or where he ended up, all she knew was that he wasn't coming back to her right now. She kept calling and wrote letters to his management, but no response.

She waited and waited, maybe the tour added more dates. They were broken up so she didn't expect him to update her on everything but she wished he'd answer at least one call.

She called every day for a year, and never once did her phone ring back.

~~~

Five years passed and she gave up on Eddie, she gave up years ago when he refused to come back to her. She figured she caused too much pain and broke his heart so he moved on. The thought killed her but him being happy was all she wanted in life.

It turned out she was pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl. They reminded her of Eddie, some days it made her happy, and other days it killed her. They didn't know a life with a dad so she never spoke to them about it, and they never asked. To them just having mom was normal and she didn't want to disturb that. Because she honestly didn't think she'd ever see Eddie again.

"Christopher, you need to stop running!" Y/N scolded as she pushed Beverly on the swing set. The boy laughed as he ran faster, his curls bouncing with every step.

She groaned as she gave Beverly another push and then ran after him.

Once she caught him, she got them ready in the car. She loved her kids but damn they were so energetic, and she knew who they got it from.

They looked alike in ways, the same brown curly hair, Beverly's was longer. Same eyes and the same sass.

She sighed in relief when she pulled up to the house, ready to put them in a room and have time to herself. But her stomach turned when a black SUV was parked in the driveway.

"Momma, who's that?" Christopher asked, his curious eyes settled on the car. The windows were dark and they couldn't see in it.

"I don't know. I'll go check, stay here." She said, she got out of the car and walked over to the car. Before she could walk up to knock on the driver's window, the back door opened. She froze in her spot.

Eddie exited out of the car, hair tied up in a bun but a few curls loose on his forehead. He had many more tattoos, his arms covered in ink until it disappeared under his short sleeve. He wore sunglasses, which she was thankful for. She feared if she could see his eyes she'd melt in a puddle.

"Hi stranger, can we talk?"

His voice sent shivers down her spine. She's only heard it on the radio, either his songs or an interview. She never had the heart to turn it, always wondering if he was happy. If chasing him away was the right decision.

"I...I... Eddie...I" she stuttered, completely in shock as he stood in front of her. He was real, and he was here, after five long years. "I can't right now, but tonight? I can meet you somewhere." She said, her eyes looking back to her car and then to him.

He looked at her car and looked back, he couldn't see inside but he knew there was someone she didn't want him to see. He figured it was a new boyfriend or something, he couldn't help but look down at her hand. Relief in his stomach when he didn't see a ring. She must have not lived alone, he suspected since she didn't want him inside.

"Sure, had to get a new number so here," he said as he handed her a piece of paper. "Text me when and where and I'll be there."

She smiled as she took the piece of paper, hoping she was covering how much anxiety she had.

"You look incredible, by the way." He said as he got in the car. She watched as the door slammed and the car backed out of the driveway.

~

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Steve asked. Steve was one of her best friends from high school and he knew the truth about everything. He was the godfather to her kids and he spoiled the crap out of them. But he was also her rock, she couldn't imagine doing everything on her own.

"It's just dinner, Steve," she said as she tore apart her closet.

"Just dinner?" He chuckled, "Then why did you take half an hour in the shower, and now tearing apart your closet for something sexy to wear?" He asked, a smirk on his face as she froze.

She coughed and yanked the dress off the hanger. "I don't know what you're talking about"

Steve laughed as her bathroom door closed. "I suppose I'll take the kids and leave!"

"I'll call you when I'm on my way to pick them up!" She said through the door

~

Y/N felt like she was going on a first date all over again. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, but all the fluttering made her feel like she was going to be sick.

She knew Eddie, but she didn't know this new version of him. She didn't know the Rockstar and the man with all the fame.

She wasn't sure why he wanted to talk. It has been five years and she accepted he'd never come back to her. But now he was but for what? Did he want to get back together? Even though they haven't talked in five years. Did he want to rub it in her face that he made it big without her? Thank her for being the reason he left in the first place?

She swallowed nervously as she walked into the small restaurant, the lights were dim creating a romantic atmosphere. Eddie was already at a table, sipping on a beer.

"Sorry, hope you weren't waiting long," she said as she took a seat.

He perked up in his seat, "No I just got here, you're fine." He said with a smile. She forgot how calm she felt near him, seeing his smile and eyes made all her anxiety melt away.

"I told you she would show up!" The young waiter said as he patted Eddie on the back. Eddie gave the waiter a side eye as his face blushed. "At least you only had to wait half an hour, a guy last night waited two full hours before he gave up." The waiter laughed.

Y/N and Eddie were quick to order another drink and send him on his way. Eddie wanted to smack his head against the table once he left.

"Thirty minutes? Thought you just got here," she teased, laughing softly.

"Little white lie," he chuckled

They laughed until it died in silence. They stared silently at each other, memorizing each other's faces.

"That's a beautiful dress," Eddie said. A nervous cough followed and he took a swig of his beer. She made him nervous, he felt like he was meeting her for the first time all over again. Everything he said or did tonight had to impress her. Almost like he had to win her over.

"Oh thank you," she said as she pushed down the material on her thighs. "You look good, and the new tattoos are incredible." She complimented, itching to push up his sleeve and see how far up the tattoos went. She wondered if he had any more in other places, and how many different women got to see them, feel them, and trace them. She used to trace his ink after sex all the time, and her stomach felt unsettled thinking about all the other women who touched his new ink before she had the chance. She never thought she'd share his body with anyone new, it was hers for life, at least it used to be.

"Thank you," he said. He was guilty of thinking the same thing she was. He wanted to reach over the table and run her fingers up and down his arm. He craved to feel her soft touch on his skin, tracing the shapes and planting wet kisses on his neck. He shivered at the memories that played through his head.

"How was, uh tour?" She asked. She knew bringing it up would make them uncomfortable, and she was right. The second tour left her lips, and both of their bodies went stiff.

"It was great," he said, unable to look in her eyes as he traced the top of his glass. "Touring for five years seems crazy now, but once I started I didn't want to stop."

She felt his words hit her like a blow, but he got his dream.

"I'm really glad it worked out and you guys got to tour for many more years." She meant it. Even though the space between them killed her, she couldn't have been more proud of him.

"Yeah, but I'm back in town for good. And I know when I left things weren't right between us. I don't know if you are seeing someone or anything, but I came back to you for a reason," he explained. He played with his rings, showing her he was just as nervous about this conversation as she was.

"What's the reason, Eddie?" She asked, but she had a good feeling about what he was going to say. And if he did say it, she was going to get pissed.

"I miss you and I miss us. I thought if I kept the tour going, I'd never have to face how shitty everything was without you."

"Do you remember when you promised me we'd talk about it when you came back? As in years ago? I was waiting for you. I was waiting like a god damn idiot. You miss me? Well, screw you." She spat, already planning to stand up but he was quick to grab her hand and pull her back down.

"I know! Okay, I know. I was pissed off when I left and hurt that you believed I would ever cheat on you. I was angry and each time I performed I got more angry. I was singing about a girl that didn't trust me to not fuck up without her there. It fucked with my head and I started to wish I hated you, and that broke my heart." He explained, "Then you'd call and all I wanted to do was answer and tell you how bad you fucked with my head. That this tour was supposed to be everything to me and I hated every second of it because all I could think about was if you were trusting me or not." Eddie ranted, trying his best to stay calm.

"If you were so mad at me that you wanted to hate me, why didn't you at least try to talk to me?"

"You broke up with me, I didn't want to talk to you. Is that so wrong of me?" Eddie asked

"I mean no, but at least one phone call would have been nice. Even if you told me to fuck off and never talk to you again, at least it would have told me where we stood. I waited for you to come home and you didn't bother to tell me you changed your mind. You talked about not changing, but you did change. You broke a promise, and you never break those." She argued, taking deep breaths as she felt the need to cry.

"I'm sorry that I never communicated. I was at these parties and girls were throwing themselves at me, just like you said. I didn't want any of them, never even blinked in their direction. I wanted to prove that I could be someone you could trust. And then I thought I shouldn't have to prove that to you because I've been loyal since the day we got together. What you said wasn't fair. I'm being as honest as I can. You broke my heart and I wanted to hurt you." He felt bad for saying it but he never told her how much pain she caused him.

"Everything you felt was valid. I did ask for a break and I put us in that situation. I'm really sorry for hurting you. But I can explain why," she sighed

"I didn't want to break up or anything. I wanted to stay together, no matter how long you would be gone. I love you, Eddie and that never changed. But I was scared that if you stayed with me, you'd regret it."

"Baby, why would I ever regret you?" His voice sounded sad. She sniffled back tears and continued.

"I overheard you and Nick talking. I was fine with staying back and letting you go alone. Nick didn't want distractions and that was fine. But Eddie asked about marriage and kids. He asked you what future you planned to have with me, and you didn't have an answer. You laughed at the idea and that hurt. I couldn't put myself through long distance, waiting for you to come home, when you weren't even sure if I was the one for life. I lied and made all of that shit up so you would want to leave me. And so you could go on the tour without our distance dragging you down. And I think I also did it to protect myself. Because if I waited for you and you came back with a change of heart, I wouldn't ever recover."

"I do want to marry you, I've always wanted that. He wanted a time frame and I panicked. I knew I'd marry you, but I had no idea how soon it would be. I know I waited long and you're completely valid to protect yourself. Putting a date on it scared me and I'm sorry that I didn't handle it well. And for the kids," Y/N felt her body stiffen. She felt like she was holding her breath, terrified of what he'd say. "I'm scared too. I don't know if I have what it takes to be a dad. You are perfect and always perfect at everything. I think I could be a good husband to you, but I don't think I'd keep up to be a good dad like you would be as a mom. I'm scared to fail you." He confessed, his eyes turning red as tears slipped down his cheek. The tip of his nose was red as more tears fell.

"What about now? It's been five years. Was all that time away enough for you to commit to me like that?" She asked

"I thought about you the whole time and once I got my head out of my ass I went straight to you. I haven't seen anyone, family or friends. I got off the plane and headed to you. I've been mad at you but realized that never took away any of my love for you. There was never a girl that could make me forget about you. I want you and I'd marry you right now at the courthouse if you asked me to." And he meant it.

"We both hurt each other, and both said things we didn't mean. We've matured and grown up a little more. I think we can start on a clean slate?" Y/N asked, reaching over to offer her hand

Eddie smiled and shook it, a clean slate.

~~~

A few weeks passed since Eddie and Y/N talked. They agreed to just start as friends, and not jump into anything. Y/N wanted to get back together but she knew it would get complicated once her kids were involved.

She didn't have a plan to introduce them, and that backfired.

Eddie showed up unannounced at the house, he still had his key and he walked right in.

Y/N was giving Beverly a bath, music playing from the small speaker on the counter. Y/N laughed as Beverly blew bubbles around the room. Christopher was in his room, loudly banging trucks together. Everyone was unaware of Eddie walking through the house.

Eddie couldn't help but look at how much their home changed. It was clear children lived here, from the small plates, cups, and toys on the floor. The pictures on the wall caught his attention, his eyes glued to the photographs.

She had a family, she had two small kids. The beauty of all three of them took Eddie's breath away. She had a boy and girl on each side of her, and both kids had dark curly hair. He gulped, the kids looked identical to him.

Eddie heard laughing coming from the bathroom, and he followed the sound. He walked down that hallway a thousand times and never pictured he'd hear a little girl's laugh coming from it. He softly pushed the cracked door open.

His heart warmed at the sight, he knew Y/N would be a good mother but seeing it was something else. The way she smiled so big and the pure joy on her face, it killed Eddie to know how much he missed out.

Eddie coughed to get her attention

"Eddie?" she gasped in shock

"Can we talk?" He asked, his eyes looking to the small girl in the tub

~

"A clean slate and you didn't bother to tell me I had two fucking kids?" Eddie hissed, keeping his voice low as both kids were settled in the bedroom.

"A clean slate for us, my kids have nothing to do with you," Y/N fought back

"Nothing to do with me? I'm their father!"

"No, you're not! You helped me make them, sure. But your name is not on the birth certificate, they don't know you, and they don't have your last name. I'm sorry but there's not a single reason I can't think of for me to let you see them. You may be their father, but I'm their everything" Y/N said, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"That's not fair, I never got a chance," he argued

"You did! Do you think I called you for a whole year just because I was clingy? All you had to do was answer the fucking phone or better yet, showed up when you said you would." She spat, her voice filled with anger as she shoved past him.

He followed her into the bedroom, closing the door.

"You could have left a message!"

He stepped back when she pushed a finger against his chest and went head to head-with him.

"Listen, you don't get to make this my fault. I called, I tried, and I sure as hell did my fucking part" she hissed through her clenched teeth.

Eddie knew he was in the wrong so he backed down, he gently grabbed the finger on his chest and brought it down to her side. He held her hand and spoke softly,

"You're right. You tried and It's all on me that I never picked up. I understand why I don't have a place. But I'm here now, and I want to be here. I want to be a family."

Y/N turned her head away as she blinked away tears, she could feel her walls breaking down. He touched her cheek and turned her head to face him.

"I know you are their everything, but I want to help you. Let me be their dad, please," he begged, he slowly leaned in, "You've always been everything to me, and I want them to be everything to me too. We can be a family, I'm not going anywhere."

She cried as she leaned in as well, "I want to be a family too"

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered

She nodded and leaned in, she moaned as she felt his lips on hers again. His soft touch on her skin and the desperation of his kiss made her stomach flutter.

He pulled away slowly, his eyes locked on hers

"I never thought I could miss someone this much" he whispered before he leaned in again.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[celestie0]

Hey!! Do you have any ihm headcanons for gojo and y/n?

I honestly love them both so much especially reader. Your writing is amazing

suuure!! i mean they're not like officially in a relationship yet so these will just be kinda random facts about them i supposeee, some separate and some together :0 but i hope they're still interesting haha <33

in holy matriphony headcanons

ᰔ note. for anyone new here, these headcanons are based off of my gojo x reader long fic series called "in holy matriphony"!! header art by @/3-aem

ihm!gojo woodworks in his free time. he’s building a coffee table right now. he passed out in his workshop last weekend because he accidentally inhaled too many wood stain fumes

ihm!gojo already has a college fund set up for his future kids (he started it when he was 26 lmfao)

ihm!gojo on that note is veeery financially responsible (unlike ihm reader hahaha)

ihm!reader only chose nursing for her post undergrad plans because she dressed up as a nurse once for halloween and it drove choso crazy and that’s basically what she ended up rolling with for the rest of her professional career 👍🏼 (a questionable yet relatable decision)

ihm!gojo’s ex-wife, who shall still remain mostly a mystery, is actually someone he’s known since he was four years old (childhood friends to lovers type beat)

ihm!gojo’s favorite weekend pass times are hanging out with juno, taking his boat out to the lake, and watching SNL

ihm!reader secretly really wants to go for a ride on the lake on ihm!gojo’s boat but she’s spent so much time yelling at him for parking it halfway across her driveway curb that she feels like asking would be damage to her ego

ihm!gojo & ihm!reader were actually veeeeeery civil with one another when they first met, like very sweet neighbors, but then obviously things became sour down the line haha

ihm!gojo eats a generally pretty clean diet other than the occasional takeout on a friday. he PIGS out when he’s sold a house though. also, he’s a massive slut for home baked goods especially if they were made just for him. one time juno brought him a plate of (very burnt) chocolate chip cookies and he damn near cried (it’s the thought that counts)

ihm!gojo became a real estate agent fresh out of college but his actual major in college was entirely unrelated to marketing, sales, or business (shall be revealed later) 

ihm!reader was voted prom queen not once but twice when she was in high school and she believes that’s when she peaked in life

ihm!gojo gets sent on business trips to foreign countries pretty often by his brokerage firm to assess new housing markets and he always tries to bring back souvenirs for everyone in the neighborhood (except reader because he once brought her a stuffed animal from the airport in taiwan but he saw her throw it away in her garbage bin on trash day :( …she’s so mean sometimes)

whenever ihm!gojo & ihm!reader have arguments over things, they always vent about it to their neighbors in passing, and reader gets so pissed off when neighbors take gojo’s side because she’s literally lived there her whole life and yet they have the audacity to advocate for HIM

ihm!reader holds a lot of resentment towards her father because he was a heavy smoker for the entirety of his marriage to her mom, and so she suspects the reason her mother has cancer in the first place is because of the secondhand smoke 

ihm!gojo is obsessed with avocados. he eats avocado toast everyday. and he makes a meaaaaannn bowl of guac. he only has one avocado tree in his backyard right now but he would like to have a whole farm of them someday

ihm!gojo is really social, he loooves to talk to people and get to know them and ask them for their whole life story even if he just met them like two minutes ago lol, but his actual close knit  group of friends is only like 3-4ish guys

ihm!gojo gets frequently invited to his clients’ dinner parties, christmas parties, thanksgiving meals, kids birthday parties etc lmfaooo but he often has to politely decline

ihm!reader’s doctor is very concerned for her symptoms of insomnia (due to her abnormal sleeping schedule from nights shifts) because she already has risk factors for alzheimer's from her mother and insomnia only increases that risk

ihm!reader’s favorite store ever is costco. she wants her ashes to be spread across a costco parking lot

a/n. hope u enjoyed :0 much love!!

[dykeomania]

lovergirl!hazel headcanons

｡.｡ just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.

a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.

tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.

practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.

she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.

she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.

you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.

"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."

her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.

"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.

"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."

but let's take a few steps back first,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.

"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"

"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."

"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.

hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.

"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.

"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"

"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."

a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.

your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."

hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,

"so what if i do?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.

"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.

"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."

hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.

"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"

"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.

"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."

hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.

"it's too late for that, though." you frown.

"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."

"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."

hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"

you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."

hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"

"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.

her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.

hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.

"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.

but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...

"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."

"okay.."

"...m'sorry--"

"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."

you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.

hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"

the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,

and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.

"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"

"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"

and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.

hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.

"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.

her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,

"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."

[ihfmseatsoch]

Hiiii this is Jimmy rape anon again!!!! Your fic was so good and super duper cathartic sooooo X333 Waiter, more Jimmy torture please!!!!!

Can I please get a red room type situation where the reader streams snuff porn of Jimmy after he tries and fails in drugging and taking advantage of them? Or if snuff is too far for you, maybe just in general ruining of his life? Super sorry if this is too weird, I respect your boundaries and I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable!!!

-🥩

I ❤️ SNUFF 😁 smiles sweetly

genre: smut, dark fic

gender neutral reader, genitalia isn't described

word count: 2.2k

warnings/content: dead dove, attempted rape, actual rape, kidnapping, drugging, snuff, jimmy dies 🥳🎉

(>_< this is my first time writing smth like this #sorry if its dumb. bleh)

—

Nights like this were routine for Jimmy; go to a bar, chat up someone that looked the most deprived of their father's affection, roofie them, and take 'em home. Not like anyone would miss a dumb whore in the first place, so it's all guilt free.

Everything was going smoothly with you, although it was frustrating how you kept your hand protectively over your drink the entire time. You also don't seem particularly interested in his advances, so drugging you unconscious was the only course of action. Problem was, the opportunity never arose.

His impatience began to grow. He was not used to being denied what he wanted, and he started to feel irritated by your resistance. You were certainly a difficult target.

Losing interest, his focus diverted away from you, scoping out anyone else that looked drunk enough to make his goal an easy feat. He takes a sip of his drink, grimacing at how it tasted unusually bitter, the flavor lingering unpleasantly on his tongue. Jim dismissed it as a minor quirk. He's just imagining things, the bartender must've made it wrong.

Deep down, an uneasy feeling nagged at him, an inexplicable sense of foreboding settling in his mind.

He doesn't remember anything before everything went black.

When he regains consciousness, he can hear the muffled sound of someone speaking, and through his unfocused, bleary vision, he can see a blinding light pointing directly at him. It takes him a moment to completely get a grip on reality.

Jimmy can tell he's on the floor, but the texture underneath him is similar to... a tarp? He can recognize a camera stand only a couple feet away from him, once his dizziness alleviates.

"Oh, good. He's waking up." He hears an... oddly familiar voice coming from nearby.

Jimmy attempted to move, but all of his limbs felt sluggish and slow. He quickly realized his wrists and ankles were bound together with thick rope that dug painfully into his skin.

"What... the fuck?" Jim manages to groggily mumble, panic washing over him.

"Say hi... um, whatever your name is. I forgot. Probably unremarkable, anyway. I mean... who would care to learn the name of a pig bred for slaughter?" The figure in front of him snickers at their own sentence. A chilling sense of recognition dawns on him.

You.

"Fuck." Is the most fitting word he could utter between his teeth to describe the horror gripping his chest in this moment. "What...– What did you do to me, you psychotic, fucking–" Jim spat, his words still slightly slurred from the lingering effects of the drug.

"Language." You scold, reprimanding him like a child. "I've already heard every insult you could throw at me. Honestly, men like you need to get more original."

He notices a USB cord connecting the camera to a laptop, the screen displaying what looks to be... a live chat, and his body, sprawled pathetically on the ground.

He was being filmed, streamed to a live audience. If he was close enough to read the chat, he'd be met with thousands of people egging you on to make him suffer, using every method in the book.

"Everyone's been so eager to see me butcher another piece of meat. You should be flattered that I chose you. You're gonna be a star." Your tone is eerily giddy.

"Flattered" was most certainly not the word he would have chosen to describe this predicament. "What... What do you want from me?" Jim sounded weaker this time, the fear finally starting to seep into his voice.

"It's not what I want from you, silly. This is about what I can do to you." Your clarification isn't any less threatening. "You tried your hardest to hurt me first, and usually I commend perseverance. But... being so committed to assaulting an innocent person... that's not worthy of praise. Punishment sounds more like what you deserve."

This is not happening. This cannot be real.

"H– Hey, okay, listen. I made a mistake." Jimmy stammers, trying to come up with anything to stall for time. Anything to throw you off. Anything to keep him alive. "Just let me go, I won't breathe a word of this, I swear to god–"

"God? God won't save you. You're not worth it. I don't know how many victims you've gotten your greedy hands on, but even one is more than enough for the death penalty. In my humble opinion." Kneeling on the ground beside him, you grab his face, forcefully turning it to make eye contact with the camera. "You're a pretty boy. Shame you turned out this way."

"Please– Just let me go. I– I'll give you cash, I got money." He pleaded, struggling against the restraints around his limbs. "I'll give you everything. I'll do anything, j–just–" He swallowed, his words faltering under the weight of his desperation.

"Money?" You laugh, like it's the most hilarious thing you've ever heard, and it very well may be. "Aww, you're cute. But no, I don't want your hush money." You position yourself above him, groping his hips, feeling his body up as if you're inspecting an animal.

"Don't–" His body tensed the moment you made contact with him, and he tried desperately to jerk his body forward to get away from your touch, but, well... you can't exactly do much without hands or legs, can you? "–Dont f– fucking touch me!" Jimmy cried out in vain.

"What gives you the right to beg, when the people you've hurt couldn't?" You roll your eyes at his whining. Men like him are always such crybabies.

"Hmm... should we do a poll, chat? Duct tape over his mouth, or no?" You type away on your keyboard, speaking casually to your deranged audience like nothing about this is remotely insane.

His heart thrummed against his ribcage, a cold sweat causing his clothes to uncomfortably stick to his body. "Wait– No! No, you c–can't–! People will look for me, y–you can't j–just–" Every word he speaks ia now filled to the brim with panic and dread, lacking their usual sharpness.

"No one is coming to help you."

You respond plainly. And truthfully, you aren't wrong. Jimmy knows he only has one friend in this entire world, and zero family that ever gave a fuck about him. There's no doubt that Curly would indeed search for him, but the police are useless. He'd file a missing persons report and the case would go cold in a month.

"I've known guys like you my whole life. So which one is it; Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Both? Either way, your parents obviously didn't care enough about you to raise you right. So family is out of the question."

That last sentence got through to him, hitting too close to home. "Shut up," Jimmy's face contorts with anger, "You don't know anything about me, you–" He growled, a weak attempt to hide the shame he felt deep down. He hated how clearly you saw through him. He was truly alone, and it stung.

"I know enough," You reply, without even a hint of emotion. In fact, you were infuriatingly nonchalant. "It's always the same story. Mom and dad fucked you up, so now you're bitter and old, taking any chance you can get to make people feel the same misery you have inside you."

Jimmy winced when you so ruthlessly pointed out the truth he always tried so hard to deny. He wanted to fight back, but what could he say? He was at your complete mercy, literally. So he stayed quiet, his body trembling in your grasp.

You study something closely on your screen, something he can't see, which makes him all the more nervous. "Duct tape it is." You nod to yourself, grabbing the roll you conveniently placed beside you, like you were prepared for this. To silence him. You're not gentle with it, either. You wrap the tape carelessly around his head, the material sticking to his hair and mouth, secured tightly in place.

A muffled protest comes from behind the tape, but it's just as pitiful as his pleading earlier. Your fingers loop around the hem of his jeans, tugging them down roughly. It's honestly a bit more of a struggle than you'd hoped for, with his squirming, plus the rough material not going down smoothly without a fight.

"Don't you think it's stupid to fight back at this point?" You huff, wiping sweat from your forehead when you finally get his pants down to his mid-thigh. "Like, come on. This is the end for you, and you know it. At least you'll be entertaining to watch..."

Dread. That's all he can feel right now. Pure, nauseating dread. Jimmy feels like he's been punched in the gut, struggling to keep the contents of his stomach from rushing to his esophagus. His adams apple bobs as he swallows down the painful, choked up sensation in his throat. He doesn't want to cry. He can't give up his pride just yet.

Jimmy's stubbornness doesn't last long when you yank his underwear down, his soft dick laying limp on his stomach. You straddled his hips, grasping his shaft agonizingly tight, making him involuntarily let out a panic stricken whimper. No one has ever touched him like this, in a way that made his entire body feel violated. He could sit in the shower for the rest of his life, and never wash off the filth.

Jim attempts, once again, to plead for mercy, his brown eyes glazing over with fresh tears.

He's thankful he can't see your face anymore.

You can't make out what he's trying to say, but it's not like you're all too interested to find out, anyway. He feels you shift on top of him, reaching over to grab something off a nearby table. As soon as the cold, metallic barrel of your handgun presses against the pulse point on his neck, his body stiffens, his cries halting altogether.

"That's right. You just stay nice and still." You mutter, maintaining that same calm demeanor you've had since you brought him here, sealing his fate. You've done this before, it's obvious.

It's terrifying.

You keep the gun against his throat as you slip him inside of your hole, albeit with some struggle of course, because he's not hard in the slightest. Jimmy's chest heaves, and he's sure he could vomit at any second. Everything about this makes him feel sick. He's trembling so hard, lightheaded from hyperventilating.

He wishes he would just pass out so he didn't have to feel you use his dick like a toy. Every time you sink back down onto him, it makes him physically recoil, cringing with every muscle in his body. It feels so... wrong. Depraved in a way that's too monstrous, even for him. Which is hypocritial of him to think, honestly. He's put, what, dozens of people in this exact position?

His senses are completely overwhelmed, and he's unable to let out the buildup emotions in a way that isn't letting tears flow freely down his cheeks, out of the fear that if he makes a single noise or complaint, you'd kill him early and continue desecrating his corpse, whilst every single person witnessing his final moments cheers you on.

"At least I'm getting some use out of you," You pant above him, getting off on his sobs, and his palpable, unadulterated fear. "You can be proud knowing you actually made someone cum before you died. I doubt you ever have before."

His eyes anxiously follow the gun as you move it to press it against his forehead. "I wonder where I should shoot you," You hum, deep in genuine contemplation, "I think everyone would like to see your brain splattered all over the wall. Or, I could shoot you right in the heart," You prod the barrel against his chest, "And watch you panic when you feel it stop."

Jimmy wanted to ask you to make it quick. Honestly, he's relieved he'll die when this is over. At least he wont remember a single thing about his fucked up existence when he's unconscious and rotting wherever you throw his corpse. At least he wont remember how he felt in this moment. It's a little comforting to let his mind wander elsewhere, thinking of how blissfully numb he'll be when you end his life.

You could feel yourself nearing your orgasm, fueled by the adrenaline coursing through your body, and if you're being honest, his cock is big, even if it's flaccid inside you. What a shame that it'll go to waste soon. "None of this would be happening if you were a decent man. Isn't that funny?"

No, it isn't.

When you finally cum, he doesn't even have the strength left to be scared anymore. After years of longing for death, his prayers have been answered. It's not the most graceful way to go, but then again, he never expected his last moments to be peaceful.

You grip his hair, roughly twisting his head to look into the camera lense. Surprisingly, even to himself, he doesn't fight back.

"I don't know where you're going, but I hope it's worse than hell." You cock the gun, pressing the barrel to his temple.

The last thing he hears is a deafening gunshot that bursts his eardrum.

—

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Wide Awake

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Wolff!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Self-Doubt, age-gap (reader is 22), slight smut (just fingering) , oh and slight orgasm denial.

(SOFIA IS A RANDOM GIRL I MADE UP!)

A/N: This was supposed to just be a one off thing but I kept writing and writing and I'm 99% sure that no one wants to read a 25k worded chapter only for it to BARELY get to the whole point/plot of the fic. so there's going to be another chapter (3 at max)

(Also I promise Too Good To Say Goodbye 7 is coming but I was hyper fixated on trying to finish this which isn't happening ) 🫶🏽😊

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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My dad’s always warned me about getting involved with the drivers. He told me that they’re all too young, naive and that all they’ll be good for is breaking my heart. For the longest time, I believed him. I’ve seen the way some of these young drivers were with girls.

Max cheating on Sofia with Kelly, Lando talking to 3 girls at once and George, well George hasn’t done anything. Point is, I’ve seen how they are and I don’t want to get with one of the young drivers only to have my heart ripped out. AGAIN.

I secretly dated one of the hottest drivers, Charles Leclerc for about 2 months. All was going well we were happy, we had secret dates and maybe I thought he was the one.

That was until one day In Monaco when I showed up to the paddock for Free Practice 1 & 2 I saw him hand-in-hand with Alexandra Saint Mleux. When I saw them together and I realized everything she had that I didn’t. She was at taller than me, skinnier, gorgeous, had flawless skin and had a modeling career. In other words, she was a goddess.

Seeing them together broke my heart and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, but I couldn’t. My dad warned me about the young drivers but I still went behind his back and did the exact opposite of what he told me not to do. I deserved this.

I had made a beeline for the Mercedes garage just to get out of the public eye but I was so focused on getting as far away from Charles and Alexandra as possible that I hadn’t noticed I was running straight into someone.

I hit this person's body with such force I almost went flying back and I reached my hands out in front of me to try and grab anything for stability and at the same time I felt two hands on either sides of my waist trying to balance me.

I was feeling so many different emotions right now I couldn't even think straight, clearly. I was so angry at Charles for cheating on me even if weren’t technically even dating, sadness because I actually thought Charles was actually capable of loving me, and full fledged embarrassment because I just ran full on into someone thinking about how Charles just ruined my life. And my makeup.

I looked up to face the person I just ran into and tried to profusely apologize for my actions, but when I looked up tho I was met with the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wanted to stare into his eyes forever but in the half a second it took me to look up I also realized who it was that I ran into.

The 7x WDC Lewis Hamilton.

Even more embarrassment coated my face as I realized that not only did I just bump into someone while trying so hard not to have a mental breakdown but I ran into the Lewis Hamilton, my dad's best and most loved driver. “Oh my gosh Lewis, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell my dad” Honestly, it sounded pathetic. ‘Don’t tell my dad’? what are you, 12?

I stared at him in silence for about all of 2 seconds which felt like an eternity until I saw his lips curled up into a smile and heard a small chuckle come from him. “I won’t tell your dad, cross my heart” Lewis said while making an ‘X’ motion over his chest “Who are you running from? I feel like maybe I'm obligated to know since you ran right into me trying to avoid them?”

My face fell in shock. How did he know I was trying to avoid someone? I mean it wasn't rocket science, if I saw a random girl running to an isolated area with tears streaming down her face, I too am going to assume she's avoiding someone. “I- Uh, Well. See”

“It’s okay, Y/N/N, I’m not going to tell anyone. You also don’t have to tell me if you don't want to but I’m willing to help you avoid them if you do.” Lewis said as he placed a hand on my cheek.

I’ve always found comfort in Lewis’ touch. Actually, I’ve always felt comfort whenever I was in the same room as Lewis. Something about his Aura screamed ‘You’re safe with me’

As much as I wanted to, I knew there was no point in lying because one thing about Lewis is that could read people like a book. Including me. With a long, loud and dramatic dragged out sigh I reluctantly told him the truth.

“I was seeing Charles behind my father’s back for about 2 months, everything was going well and I actually kinda thought he was my person but I just now saw him hand-in-hand and all cuddly with Alexandra.” Tears sprung in my eyes and threatened to fall as I recounted what I saw a few minutes prior to Lewis.

He had a sympathetic look in his face and I could tell he genuinely felt bad for me. The hand Lewis once briefly had on my face had moved down to grab my hand before he whispered, "How about this: Tomorrow we wear almost matching outfits and we come back here also hand-in-hand. We'd be together all day and we'll be cuddly too. You know, just to make Charles jealous and regret cheating on you."

Lewis was always putting people's well-being ahead of his and it made a shy smile creep onto my face. As much as I want to, maybe I shouldn't read too much into this though, he's probably just being nice to me to stay in my father's good graces.

"Lewis," I whispered as I placed my hand on his cheek "You don't have to be nice to me because I'm your boss's daughter"

he looked a bit hurt by my accusations. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" his hand squeezed mine a little tighter.

"Why else would you, Lewis?" his hands came up to cup my face forcing me to look at him.

"Because Y/N/N, I-" he paused, almost like he was trying to find the right words to use. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've seen you sneaking around with Charles and it took so much in me not to go over there and tear you away from him, to show him that you're mine. I know I'm older than you but I'm wiser and I'll treat you better than he can." My jaw dropped, there's no way that Lewis Hamilton, a 7x WDC is head over heels in love with me, right?

"Lew, I-" a voice interrupted me, turning my body into stone and my blood into ice.

"Y/N!" I knew that voice anywhere and if he saw the moment that me and Lewis just shared, we were both dead.

"Dad! Hi!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was so flushed from Lewis' confession.

"My baby," His hands cupped my face inspecting the red all over "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm just hot. You know how the sun is in Monaco." I said with a shrug, trying to change the subject

"Oh you have to go in the AC! Lewis," my dad turned to face Lewis who was already facing in our direction

"Yes, Toto?" he said as he cocked his brow.

"I need you to take my darling girl inside. She has a condition where she can't sweat which causes her to overheat and pass out. I am too busy with this race and getting everything perfect to be worrying about my daughter having a heat stroke."

"Oh, jeez, thanks dad. Just send Lewis to do everything for you" I said in a playful tone

"Of course Toto, I'll take her in right now." Lewis said as he walked over to me and linked his arms with mine.

Lewis started guiding me through the garage and to his driver's room where he opened the door and gestured me in. Once inside he closed the door before facing me with unsure eyes.

"What's wrong Lew?" I said as I cautiously walked over to him.

"What were you going to say before Toto cut you off?" his voice so low, I almost didn't hear what he said.

"I was going to say," I stopped right in front of him, our chests were touching. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "I think that you have to prove what you said about treating me better than how Charles did."

Lewis grabbed my face and pulled me into a searing kiss, our tongues fought for dominance but his won. Lewis picked me up and sat on his couch with me on his lap so I was straddling him all without breaking the kiss.

His hands found their rightful place on my hips and applied pressure forcing my hips down as I rocked my hips to apply more force against his hardening cock.

"Mmm, you taste so good. I can only imagine how much better you taste when I'm eating your pussy." Lewis mumbled against my lips as his hands went just a little bit lower to stop at the elastic of my leggings. I guided Lewis' hands under the fabric to release some of the tension building in my core.

He understood what I needed and quickly started to run his middle finger up and down my fold, collecting all my juices before inserting it in my pussy. Lewis slowly moved his finger in and out of my hole while using his thumb to rub circles on my clit. His movements were slow and sensual bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I started rocking my hips into his palm to add more friction to my core and to chase my orgasm which I really needed right now. I was just about to go over the edge until a knock at the door quickly halted both of our movements and caused Lewis to yank his hand out of me leaving me without finishing.

"Mate, FP2 starts in 15. They need us by our cars now" The voice of George could be heard from he other side of the door.

“Oh fuck me” I grunted as I pulled myself off of Lewis’ lap

“Trust me, I was planning on it” He said with a smirk on his face as his hand came to rest on my ass before giving it a smack.

Lewis poked his head out of the door to make sure no one would see us leave, after the all clear we quickly rushed out of his room, both of us going in opposite directions as to not get caught.

————

The next day I heard a knock at my hotel door at the early hours of 6:00am. With a grunt I pulled myself out of the comfort of my warm and cozy bed and made my way to the door. Whoever was interrupting my beauty sleep was going to get a mouthful, I’ll tell you that.

“Do you know what time it is?!” I whisper yelled as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who I would be yelling at. And boy do I really wish I did look because I was met with the tall, beautiful, muscular frame of Lewis Hamilton.

“Woah honey, I told you we were going to the paddock together. We need matching outfits” Lewis said while looking at me up and down "Do you by any chance have a matching Tommy Hilfiger set?"

"No?" I said, a little nervous

"Perfect, I bought you one that matches mine so put this on" Lewis said as he handed me a bag of 4 different sets.

"Lewis, there's four sets in here. Which am I wearing?" I said I let him in my room and watched as he took a seat on my bed right were I was once peacefully sleeping.

"Wear whichever one you want and I'll match it. I didn't know which of those four you'd like so I bought them all." My heart fluttered a bit at his confession.

--------

When Lewis and I pulled up to the race and got out of the car, we walked to the entrance hand-in-hand.

Charles and Alexandra were the first people to spot us and I took notice on how Charles dropped Alexandra's hand. When I saw that I squeezed Lewis' hand and leaned into him to tell him

"Lew, it's working. He dropped Alexandra's hand" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Wanna give them a show?" I cocked my brow at what he was suggesting but reluctantly nodded my head.

Without thinking twice, Lewis pulled me into a kiss, his hand finding their place to rest on my ass while mine traveled to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

I heard a strings of words which I'm assuming were curse words before I heard faint shuffles of feet echoing away from where me and Lewis were stood. Faint footsteps weren't the only thing we heard because next thing you know we heard clicks of camera shutters.

I pulled away from him with a horrified look on my face.

"Lewis! My dad might see those!" I don't think I was ever more scared in my life than I was in that moment. My dad can't know that I'm sneaking behind his back with Lewis. Well technically this is the second day of this 'sneaking around' but still, he doesn't know."

"Do you want to be with me Y/N/N?" He said dead serious while interlocking our hands

"Yes"

"So you shouldn't care about the pictures and your dad's opinion. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship but that doesn't matter because this relationship is between us. Not them"

"I need FP3 and Qualifying to end ASAP because I so badly want to suck your cock."

“I’m holding you to that” Lewis said as he swatted my ass. Surely the press people got photos of that and when those get out. I’m gonna have a fun conversation with my dad

It took us about 15 minutes to get the Mercedes Hospitality area because of all the fans asking for pictures, Press asking questions and other drivers asking what Lewis thinks he’s doing going out with me.

I almost took offense to that but quickly realized that they didn’t mean it in a rude way but more as a ‘you better be careful because if you break her heart, Toto will never resign you to Mercedes’ type of way.

When we entered, we were met with the angry eyes of my father.

“Lewis.” He said stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose “what are you doing with my daughter?!”

“Sir,” Lewis started but my dad cut him off

“Y/N/N, I told you not to go off with the drivers!” His voice raised, not too loud to be classified as yelling but a couple octaves louder than how it was before

“Actually, you said no messing around with the younger drivers. Lewis is older and more wise” I said as I grasped Lewis’ hand tighter.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Well sir, I intend to give your daughter the best life I can give her, I want to take her everywhere with me, I want to spoil her, I want to have her move in with me, I want to be her husband and I want her to be the mother of my kids.” Lewis squeezed my hand as he said that last sentence.

I never thought about being a mother, I never felt like it was an obligation of mine. I never thought that I wanted kids but hearing Lewis admit to my dad that he wanted me to be the mother of his kids sparked something in me. Lewis made me realize that deep down, I longed to be a mom and now I wasn’t going to be happy if I wasn’t.

“I will kill you if you break her heart.” My dad stated as he stared in Lewis’ eyes as if to try and intimidate him.

—————

It's not the best but I promise the plot is to die for!

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

[queenie-avenue]

Charming Demon Belle!

—> he expresses interest in you.

⤻ reader is female, reader's race/animal theme is not specified, reader is a bit insecure, alastor is a semi-sweetheart in this one, fluff, no canon-typical violence, dancing but it's not jazz *gasp*

notes: this fic was honestly a bit rushed, but i do really love alastor as a character and really wanted to write a fic for him but i currently do not have the time to invest in one idea i have for a longform fic so here's something small. feel free to post asks for alastor, or any other hazbin character, i would love to write your ideas!

💌 ⤻ archives.

You had been at the Hotel for a few months now, working on those trust exercises that Charlie persuaded — forced — you to join in. You loved the girl, but you found her methods to be a bit too idealistic at times. Especially since during your time as a human, you saw just how cruel life could actually be.

Still, you joined in because you came to love the girl. You came to love the rest of the staff and visitors too.

Whenever you came back to the Hotel after a long day of doing whatever, there Husker was with your favourite cocktail or Angel would be there to crack his stupid jokes and innuendos that would always make you huff out a laugh no matter how tired you were. Vaggie was a fun person to be around. There was quite a bit of anger in her, but you couldn't help but like how assertive she could be. You honestly admired her for being such a strong woman, something you thought you could never be. Charlie was just a ray of sunshine and though Nifty was weird, you found her almost endearing, just like Sir Pentious and his nerdy displays.

There was one person you could never calm yourself around though and it was the host of the Hotel.

Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Perhaps it was his reputation that made you feel so uncomfortable around him, but you refrained from speaking to him as much as you could. Those eyes and that never-ending smile seemed to follow you wherever you went, though, and you found that wherever you went, he was there just waiting.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

The Hotel was practically empty by the time afternoon hit. Husk was out getting more things for the bar alongside Nifty, who needed to buy more materials for cleaning. Angel Dust was at work. Charlie and Vaggie seemed to be on a date, of some sorts, encouraged by you as they seemed to be rather stressed these few days because of the upcoming Extermination.

As for Alastor... probably up in his radio tower.

And for you? You were lounging on the couch in the lobby of the hotel, scrolling through various television channels and hoping to find one that would entertain you for long enough.

"Hello, my dear!" The static-filled voice almost made you fall off the couch as you looked up to see the Radio Demon standing over you. "What are you doing?" Alastor inquired, looking at you before his gaze shifted to the TV in front of you, his eyes narrowing in what appeared to be annoyance. "Oh, you're watching a picture box, how quaint." He attempted to remain cordial in his speech, but it was clear he wanted to wreck that television.

He reached for the remote and pressed a few buttons. "What are you doing?" This time, it was your turn to question him.

"Turning off this pesky little thing, dear! You know, too much of this," he pointed his cane at the TV, "rots your brain!" He chuckled as he finally pressed the correct button to turn it off.

"You should get off the couch and get some exercise. Today is far too nice of a day to be wasted on such idle activities." He grinned wider as he his clawed hands grabbed yours and dragged you up.

"H-hey!" You yelled, shocked by the sudden touch. Despite the fact Alastor hated someone invading his personal space, he seemed to love to invade others.

"I know you don't like to exercise, so I have come up with a rather fun activity for us to partake in." Your eyes widened at his words. What in Hell's name did he mean by that? You had seen what Alastor viewed as 'fun' and you were now worried. He snapped his fingers as he dragged you to the middle of the lobby, a radio materialising on the bar desk as it began to loudly play some jazz music. "Some dancing ought to do the trick." He smiled.

"Um, Alastor." You peeped, "I'm glad you want to do an... activity with me. But I don't know how to dance. Let alone dance for some jazz music." You grinned awkwardly up at him as he looked down at you and tutted his lips.

"Ah, no worries." He grinned as he snapped his fingers again, causing the music on the radio to shift from jazz to classical. "We can start slow, of course. I could never force a lady to do something she didn't like." Well, that was ironic, considering what he was doing now.

"Hold on." He grinned as he grabbed your waist, using his other hand to guide yours to his shoulders. Without being able to respond, he dragged you across the floor.

"One, and a two. One and a two." He demonstrated how his feet moved about the floor, forcing you to follow against his steps as he swirled you about the hall. "See, you're already getting a hang of it." You couldn't help but smile at his words.

"Heh, yeah I guess I am." You grew more relaxed as you looked up at Alastor and his toothy grin and ash face.

He grinned wider. "I'm so glad that you are starting to feel comfortable around me, my darling." He expressed as he spun you around. "I was simply so hurt when I saw you interacting with the others but not me." He pulled you closer to his chest, "Might I ask why?" Alastor asked, the static filter on his voice disappearing slightly to reveal his human voice.

"I guess we just have personality clashes?" You tried to lie, not wanting to admit that you were intimidated and scared witless thanks to this demon, especially with the way he stalked you in the shadows at times.

"Haha!" He laughed comically. "My, what an intriguing assumption, my dear Belle!" He exclaimed as he spun you around and dipped you down. "I think we have more in common than you think."

"Like what?" You gasped out as he held you down, your hair brushing against the floor as you gazed up at him.

"Well, we're both sinners."

You deadpanned at his explanation. "That's it?"

"Well, there's certainly more, but why not leave it up for us to discover?" He suggested with a grin before pulling you up, slamming your face into his chest. Alastor gripped your chin in his sharp hands, his smile growing more sinister.

"I would certainly love to know more about you." His smile grew brighter, his eyes glimmering with a hint of intrigue and desire.

Shit, somehow that was the only thought running through your mind.

[damnfandomproblems]

6785 Honestly, this one has me torn. On the one hand, I'm a fic writer myself, and I know all too well the frustration of dealing with a generation that clearly hasn't gotten the memo that fandom is supposed to be a community that's kept running by the participation of everyone. I understand the frustration of constantly having to beg for engagement from a generation that's been trained by the algorithm to just keep endlessly scrolling looking for the next hit and clearly think of fic writers as little more than content dispensers who don't have anything better to do than endlessly crank out free entertainment for the gratification of a silent invisible audience and never once stop to consider that giving encouragement to writers is exactly the thing that keeps them writing.

On the other hand, the general fandom atmosphere nowadays makes me wonder whether at least part of the issue is that people aren't reviewing anymore because they're actually afraid to do so, because so many writers have become absolute divas about what sort of feedback is and isn't acceptable. If you say you can't wait for the next update, you get yelled at for "pressuring the author to update", because they can't just be happy that someone is invested in their story and wants it to continue. If you say "This isn't my ship, but I really loved this story anyway!", you get yelled at for "making it all about your ship" by an author who can't just be happy that they're a good enough writer to get someone invested in a ship they're not normally into. If you politely point out a typo or an inconsistency, you get yelled at for "giving unsolicited critique on a free fanfic". Then, if you just give up and just say "Great!" or "Loved it!" because that's about the only thing that feels safe, you get yelled at for not writing a more detailed review because the author can't just be happy that someone loved their story and took the time to say so. By this point I've written at least a couple of long, detailed reviews that I never actually ended up posting for fear that the author would bite my head off just for the blasphemy of saying I understood where the antagonist was coming from.

And that's not even getting into the general amount of policing and bullying that's been going on. When you know you could easily get ostracized just for liking something "problematic" or for having an opinion that the majority has deemed "bad", well, that doesn't exactly make anyone eager to draw attention to themselves, whether by posting fics or reviewing them. I don't think the OP is wrong to be frustrated and angry, just that if fandom wants more engagement, then it needs to do some serious cleaning up that goes beyond just pushing people to engage more.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[vodika-vibes]

*breaks down your door in the middle of the night* first kiss in A/B/O AU with Alpha-17 and inexperienced F!Omega reader (not in a weird way ya know?) whose never been anyone’s first choice and is completely blown away that someone as awesome and amazing as Seventeen actually wants her romantically and not just physically. He makes her feel pretty and cherished and loved and she gives it back to him tenfold in return. (Not to show all my emotions at once. P.S. I read your fic with Keeli and it pulled at my tender heart strings it was so cute, yes I’m cross faded as a mf and fighting for my life this took me over 30min to write)

I See You

Summary: You’ve spent your whole life knowing that you’re not as important as the people around you. You’ve never been anyone’s first choice, not a day in your life. And that doesn’t change when you start puberty and realize that you’re an Omega. You’ve come to accept that, at best, some Alpha will pick you for your body, which will be the end of it. And then you meet Alpha-17, and for the first time in your life, you wonder “What if?”

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1585

Warnings: ABO AU, Reader is slightly insecure

A/N: So, full disclosure, I have no idea if this was a request or you just coming into my inbox to discuss it. So I made the decision that it was a request and wrote it! I hope you like it!

Join my taglist: HERE

There are some perks to living on Kamino.

Like the free suite that you can decorate how you like and the biweekly food delivery that allows you to cook whatever you want. Not to mention, you get free medical attention and as many blockers as you might need.

Plus, and here’s the biggest perk, you never have to see your “family” ever again.

Naturally, there are some downsides to Kamino too.

You work constantly and can be called into the lab at any hour of the day. There aren’t many places where you can spend your generous pay on Kamino (you have to order your clothes online and have them delivered). And you’re one of only a handful of human Omegas on Kamino. 

You’d think that that would force all of you to get together now and then to chat or whatever. But, the truth is, you have no desire to interact with the other Omegas.

Popular fiction tends to make people think that all Omegas are soft and demure and good. Honestly, you wonder if the authors have ever actually met an Omega or if they’re just fantasizing about what an Omega should be like.

Honestly, Isabet is as mean as a rancor with a toothache, and twice as violent. And she’s not afraid to take that temper out on anyone who gets in her way. Including you on several occasions.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of the door to your lab opening, and you slide your gaze away from the machine that you’ve been staring at and willing to work faster.

Even clad in armor, it takes you less than a second to recognize the man standing in the doorway. 

No one on Kamino is quite as big as Alpha-17, after all.

A thoughtful frown pulls your lips down, and you turn away from your machine to pick up a nearby datapad to scan the information on it. Alpha-17 never comes to the labs unless he’s due for some testing. 

You scan the schedule, and then set the datapad back on a nearby table, “If you have an appointment, I’m afraid that no one notated it in the schedule.” You say apologetically.

He tugs his helmet off and sets it on a table near the door. “I don’t have an appointment,” Alpha explains as he rolls his neck with a slight grimace.

“Oh.” You watch him a moment longer, “Are your implants acting up?”

“They ache when it rains.”

You shoot him an odd look, “It’s always raining, Alpha.”

He tosses a grin in your direction, “I know what I said.”

A heavy sigh falls from your lips, “Alright. Take your armor off and hop up on the table and I’ll see what I can do. But you really should make an appointment, Alpha.”

He obediently strips out of his armor and peels off the top of his blacks, before he lays on his stomach on your examination table. “Why would I do that? We both know that you’ll see me even without an appointment.”

“What if I had been busy?” You ask as you step over to his side and scan the cybernetics with your eyes first, before grabbing a scanner and turning it on, “Or had an appointment with one of your brothers?”

“I’m more important.” Alpha counters as he turns his head to watch you work.

“Well, someone certainly has a healthy ego.” He laughs and you press your hand between his shoulder blades, “Lie still Alpha. I’m trying to scan your cybernetics.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He doesn’t sound very sorry though, “But, come on Doc, we both know that I’m just going to have to live with the pain.”

You frown at him, “I might be able to do something. I don’t want you in pain, Alpha.”

He catches your free hand and squeezes your fingers, “Which is why you’re my favorite.”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, “You don’t have to try and flatter me, Alpha. I’ll help you without it.” You slip your fingers from his grip and start the scanner.

“And why do you think I’m just trying to flatter you? Why can’t I mean it?” He asks as he tucks his arm back under his chin while you work.

You shake your head with a sigh, “Men like you don’t say stuff like that to women like me, Alpha.” You eye the scanner and scowl at it, “It says everything is connected properly, you can sit up. I’ll find some topical pain gel—” You trail off, your mind racing as you try to come up with ways to lessen his pain.

You’re so lost in your ponderings that you don’t realize that Alpha has sat up until his large hand wraps around your wrist and he lightly tugs you around to face him.

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“I’d like some clarification.” Alpha’s dark eyes scan your face, and his severe expression softens, slightly. “What do you mean by ‘women like you’?”

“Oh,” You pause to gather your thoughts, “I’m just…” You hold your free hand to the side, “Not enough. Not smart enough, not clever enough, not pretty enough, not charming enough.”

Something forbidding slides across his face, though his grip around your wrist is still gentle enough that you could pull away if you wanted, “And who, Doc, told you that?”

A soft laugh falls from you, “Only everyone I’ve ever met. Well, barring you.”

“They’re wrong.”

“It’s fine, Alpha.” You try to reassure him, “I’ve long since come to terms with my lot in life.” He shoots you a puzzled look, so you clarify, “I’m never going to be anyone’s first choice. That’s just how it is sometimes.”

Alpha huffs, “Fine. We’re doing this then.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Not smart enough? You’re a doctor. A specialized doctor. How much smarter do you need to be?” Alpha lists, “Not clever enough? I know I saw you exchanging barbs with Vau the other day and you won. Not pretty enough?” Here, he pauses and scans your face, “Whoever told you that must be blind or stupid or both. As for not being charming, I happen to think you’re very charming. So they’re wrong about that too.”

“Oh…ah…” You blink at him, and you can feel your face burning, “Thank you?”

“Honestly,” His voice is light, “I find it absolutely shocking that you haven’t chosen an Alpha yet. Stars know you have to have your pick.”

“No one’s ever shown any interest,” You reply honestly.

Alpha-17 mutters something under his breath, though you can’t really hear what he’s saying even as close as you’re standing to him.

“Alpha, I need to find the ointment for you. Can I have my wrist back?” You ask as you touch the hand wrapped around your wrist gently.

He scans your face for a moment before something seems to settle over him. He’s always been a confident man, settled in his skin, but he suddenly seems more, and you’re not sure why.

“Alph—?”

“Can I kiss you?”

His question shocks you into silence, and you blink at him dumbly for a moment, “I…what?”

“I want to kiss you,” Alpha says as he releases your wrist and moves his hand to gently brush his fingers against your chin. And then he flashes a wry smile, “Well, full honesty, I want more than that. But I’ll start with a kiss.”

“I don’t—”

“I want to be your Alpha.” He clarifies, “I want you to be my Omega. But if you’re not interested then this will be the last time I bring it up.” Slowly he presses his forehead against yours.

And you stare at him, kind of feeling like you’ve been hit over the head with a sledgehammer. “You’d…pick me?” You ask.

“Yes.”

You believe him. He’s not the sort to lie to you.

“I’d like a kiss,” You whisper up to him.

He grins then and tilts your head so he’s able to press his lips against yours.

And it’s good. Better than good, it’s perfect.

You’re not able to help yourself from stepping closer to him, moving to stand between his thighs, and wrapping your arms around his neck. Alpha’s arms wrap securely around your waist as he tugs you as close as he can and he holds you tightly, as if afraid that someone might rip you from him.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re breathing is slightly unsteady, something that makes him smile smugly. “We can go as slow as you want,” He murmurs, his lips brushing against your cheek, “But you are mine now, little omega.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then you smile at him, “And you’re mine?”

Alpha laughs then, “And don’t you forget it.”

Slowly he releases you, and you take a step back. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and then take another step back, “If you still want that pain ointment, Alpha—”

“Maybe later.” He stands, “I have ARCs who need training.” Alpha glances at you, “If I chrome by your suite tonight, maybe you can give me some options to handle the pain?”

“I can do that.” You reply with a small smile.

Alpha lightly brushes his fingers against your cheek, “It’s a date.” He ducks his head to kiss you one more time, and then he leaves. And you’re left with butterflies in your stomach, and excitement in your heart.

You’ve never been anyone’s first choice. 

But Alpha…he’s different. And now you know it.

@bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @kiss-anon @continous-mistakes @imabeautifulbutterfly @n0vqni

[lemoncrushh]

This is why I haven't been writing...

This got long, but I had to say it.

The lack of feedback has always been something writers struggle with, at least in the ten years I've been on tumblr. It's nothing new. But it feels like instead of improving, it's gotten even worse.

Years ago, I had a long-time mutual bash me for complaining about it, calling me entitled. I was upset about it then, but here's the thing...I am entitled. And so is every other writer on here. We are all entitled to a little feedback and interaction. That's what we're here for.

I understand the drought we're in without any new Harry content. But I would think that would bring even more readers. Instead, it's crickets. There are a handful of popular writers on here who constantly receive asks and get interaction, and I am in no way saying they don't deserve it. They absolutely do. But the rest of us do too.

Writing fanfiction is not a job. We do this shit for free. But it's still as time-consuming as a real job. And to only get likes with very few random reblogs here and there is very disheartening. We are content creators. I understand tumblr may not be like other apps and websites, but it's still content. And likes here mean nothing. It's not like on tikok or instagram where the algorithm somehow keeps track of likes. On tumblr it doesn't mean shit. Your like is not going to make my post show up on someone else's dash. The only way to get content shared on this app is to actually SHARE IT. That's what the reblog button is for.

Imagine how a content creator on any other platform would feel if they got no feedback. If nobody was interacting with them, they would probably get their feelings hurt and eventually pack it in. That is now I feel now. Tbh, I can't believe I've been here this long. If this were a job or a relationship, and I was telling someone else about how long I've been doing this with little to no reciprocation...they would shake their heads at me and tell me I was a fucking fool and I needed to get out of this situation.

Am I getting on my high horse? Damn right I am. I have been biting my tongue for far too long. I have made so many excuses over the years...that fic was too personal and didn't appeal to the mass audience, that fic was an AU and not everyone likes AUs, that fic was too long and most tumblr readers don't read chaptered fics, that fic had such-and-such trope that readers don't like, there are too many writers here now, nobody reads that kind of fic anymore they only want smut, that fic was too smutty, you're just too old and nobody likes you anymore...yes I've told myself all of it. And maybe I'll never really know why you guys don't like my fics or why you won't interact with me. All I know is I'm sick of trying.

I had - and actually still HAVE - loads of ideas for Harry fics. I am honestly so sad that I may never write them. But I just can't bring myself to get motivated and excited to write something when nobody gives a damn.

This definitely turned into a rant, but it's how I feel. I used to really like it on here, but that joy is long gone. Things really changed after the pandemic, and the newer fans don't seem to use tumblr the way we used to - and the older fans like me have mostly left or only pop in sporadically when something happens.

I was never here for likes. I'm bored just scrolling through pictures. Fandom to me was all about interaction and about finding people who loved the thing you loved. Nobody here gives a shit anymore.

I love Harry Styles. And tbh I still love fanfiction. I'm not deleting my blog because I deleted my heart-attack-harry one I'd had for years back in 2021, and I regretted it. This one will remain. And I'll still pop in now and then to read. But my heart is just not in the writing anymore.

Court

[the-cookie-of-doom]

you've written a couple post-canon KimChay fics that I LOVE - cage me in and set me free was one of the first KimChay fics I read, actually, I loved Kim and Porsche's dynamic in it. And then there's Out of the Shadows, which I'd love if you got the inspo to return to at some point (all that tasty, tasty angst!). But we haven't gotten to see how you, personally, would write the actual reconciliation. It's something I struggle with; how do you forgive someone who hurt you and then doubled down? Even if Chay is generous enough to accept and understand Kim's reasoning, how does he trust him after that? What if Kim decides to do something shitty for the greater good again? I'd love to hear your thoughts on that, whether it's general speculation or a bit of insight into the Out of the Shadows arc 👀

AHHH MY FRIEND!!! You're making me feel things ;_;

I do actually plan to come back to Out of the Shadows! Once I finish Technicality, since I've rediscovered the inspo for that, OotS is next on my list!

My personal feelings towards their potential reconciliation have changed a lot in the past year. When I originally watched the show, I had just gone through a really terrible breakup, my first one ever, and I was really sympathetic towards Chay. So I leaned in a little too hard to the "Kim is the worst person ever, how could he break this poor baby's heart."

One of the reasons I stalled on OotS is actually because it was the first longfic I started for this fandom, before I had really been exposed to all the various meta and interpretations, so I didn't have a solid feel for the characters and how I wanted to write them. I reached a point where the characterizations I started with, I no longer really agreed with, and then I had to figure out how to move forward with how I interpret the characters at this point.

Nowadays, I tend to think the reconciliation would go a lot better than you might expect. From what we see in the show, Kim never actually, intentionally seduced Chay. The closest we get to it is that cheek kiss after Chay's confession, but at that point, I think it's reasonable to believe Kim has caught feelings himself. We see multiple times how Kim is actually trying to do the opposite of take advantage: he keeps trying to dismiss Chay and send him away, and Chay chases after him every time. He's a lovestruck kid that doesn't seem to have a healthy idea of boundaries.

I'm also firmly in the camp that Chay knew Kim was sus from the start. he is a terrible liar, not nearly the criminal mastermind that he pretends to be - honestly, I think Kim is a scared kid that gotten in over his head, and is trying to act more confident than he feels.

Which is the crux of my version of their reconciliation. They are both so young. Chay's in high school, Kim is either about to graduate college or just did, putting him at what. 21? 22? That's several younger than me. We have no idea about Kim's dating history, but we can assume based on Chay's... everything that this is his first attempt at a relationship, and it's clumsy. He jumps in with both feet, he confesses being in love before he even knows Kim's full name, let alone anything meaningful about him. And given how Kim is constantly surprised by Chay, I think this is probably his first attempt at a relationship, too. At least one like this.

I tend to meet any given media where it's at, and accept what it's trying to show me. In this case, I've said it before, I'll say it again: KinnPorsche were the action romance with a side of bodyguard + boss/employee, VegasPete was for the dark romance/bodice ripper girlies, and KimChay was meant to be the sweet high school/college romance. It wasn't supposed to be secretly dark and sinister. If anything, it was a coming of age story for Chay; getting his first heartbreak, being faced with the fact that the world isn't as kind as he thought it was (re: the mafia), and having a rebellious teen phase.

ALL OF THAT TO SAY.

At the end of the day, I think Chay is overwhelmed by everything going on in his life, and he can't be mad at Porsche, bc he doesn't have anyone else in his life that he can trust, so he takes all of those feelings of frustration and fear and dumps them at Kim's feet. Kim is easy to be angry at. Kim lied to him, used him, and broke his heart. So Chay is going to dye his hair, start partying with a bad crowd, and cry over the boy he thought he loved not loving him back.

But Chay also loves his brother more than anything. He would do anything for Porsche, even give up their childhood home and move to some small apartment somewhere just so he can be safe, or drop out of school to get a job so he can help with the bills. Everything Kim did, he did to keep his brother safe. And again, Kim never outright tries to make Chay fall in love with him.

Even The Scene at Kim's apartment isn't a huge betrayal to me. I think Chay went running to the one person that's been his rock since Porsche left, needing comfort and reassurance that something in his life is what he thought it was. When he didn't get hat from Kim, he fell apart. And Kim was an asshole in the way he went about it, yes, but he was just. Denying his feelings. He has the right to do that, and it's a pretty common romance trope. He was scared so he pushed Chay away, and it hit Chay so hard because he just lost what he saw as the one good/steady thing in his life, and now he's left adrift in this scary new world. Hell, maybe Chay even went to Kim, now armed with the truth, hoping that Kim could help him navigate life in the mafia, because Porsche certainly isn't doing it. He leaves Chay crying in his room to go out partying with his new family (which is the most heartbreaking scene in the whole show, for me. He did all of this for Chay, but at the very end, he leaves Chay behind)

Anyway. I think that after a little time and distance, all it would really take for Chay to forgive Kim, is just. A conversation. Once Chay realizes that yeah, he was pushy, he did come on strong, and that all the times Kim pulled away from him it wasn't because he was "playing hard to get", but because he didn't know what to do with Chay's intense feelings.

They need to examine how they approach other people (Chay by throwing his everything in at once, and Kim's habit of pulling away). They both have a lot of growing up to do. And I think, at the end of the day, that's what their story is trying to tell us. Heartbreak is just a part of growing up.

ANYWAY. Sorry to word-vomit at you like that. The tl;dr is that I don't think Kim really betrayed Chay, at least not more than any regular coming-of-age breakup story. I think they need to grow up, have some self-reflection, and come back with a better idea of who they are and what they want. After that, who knows what could happen!

[cranberry-writes]

hii i love ur writing!!! ik youve just answered a hughie ask but i love him and how u write him sm, could i please rq sorta general hcs w him having a lil crush on someone whose sweet and confident, if a little vain? if possible, id love it to specifically be a male reader whose significantly taller than him. thank you!

Hughie Headcannons

Ahhhh love this rq!!! There are almost no male reader stories or headcannons so it’s nice to do them.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ANY REQUEST! (If you aren’t sure look at my pinned!”

Also i’m like 5’ 5” so my writing about a tall person is definitely not correct 😞

Warnings; (Very) Mild Spoilers for season 2&3 and cannon typical language

- Hughies already a tall guy, 6’ 1” (185 centimeters) so being taller than him is something he didn’t really expect

- Tbh he thinks you’re standing on something when he first sees you, but he does a double take and is like ‘Oh shit’

- The second thing he thinks when he meets you is ‘..how?’

- You’re not sunshine and rainbows vomiting kittens or anything, but your a lot more upbeat and kinder than the others there

- “Cool Billy Joel shirt, you got a favorite song?” “Yeah actually, (i know nothing about billy joel) is my favorite.”

- He really assumed that everyone was going to be dickish off the batt but apparently not

- He’s happy he don’t feel like his life is in danger with everyone when he first gets introduced

- He’s also happy someone *cough* isn’t calling him a cunt every 5 minutes

- When he first notices the the vaguely vain behavior, it annoys him a bit (in reality it’s more of jealousy, he wishes he could have faith in himself like you do) but once he sees you in action he understands, working with The Boys is hard, dealing with supes is hard.

- It also kinda scared him a bit, he really didn’t want to think you where an asshole

- Honestly the fact that your alive after everything gives you a pretty decent reason to be a tad vain in his mind

- With your confidence+sweetness he’s not sure if he wants to be you or be with you

- He soon realizes it’s mostly attraction a bit admiration

- I headcannon that he is so insanely bisexual it’s crazy, so being with a dude isn’t something he has to really work through or convince himself of

- Like he just grew up knowing and never really questioned or cared about it

- But he doesn’t realize he actually has a crush on you untill later in the series, maybe around late season two after LampLighter happens. (i feel like that kinda made him realize some stuff about himself)

- But he takes WAY longer to actually try and make a move on you

- like start of season four is when he even starts to make a move

- But he’s got that nerdy white boy thing and chances are you ask him out first

- You totally break out all the stocks, flowers, candy, stuff like that

- He is flattered, flustered, and scared

- Unlike Starlight you don’t have powers, and while you are amazing at your job he’s still scared that you’ll become a bigger target because of his affiliation with Homelander and Newman.

- But honestly we all saw how he literally stood up to Homelander when he insulted Starlight, once yall are in a relationship he ain’t backing down for shit (Unless you ask, he’s very respectful of boundaries)

- okay i’m circling back to the height thing,

- he would enjoy it a LOT

- He’s always been the taller one in relationships, it was nice to switch it up a bit.

- He also enjoys how someone else can share the struggles of being tall with him

- (small stupid thing but if yall move in together you have one hell of a time finding a bed that actually fits)

- Because of how tall you both are it’s easy to find one another in crowds, Hughie really likes that fact (he’s scared that if he can’t find you then something horrible has happened to you)

- Butcher pokes fun at both of you but in the dumbest ways imaginable

- “Ere’ come the fucken’ inflatable tube couple.”

Watch me make an actual fic about this

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s a little Josh fic for you all. Just as an aside, this fic follows the reader after she’s just gotten out of a past relationship that ended badly. I used gender neutral pronouns and words for her ex and Josh is also written as being queer in this fic. I wanted to make this as inclusive an experience as possible for my readers so that is why I chose to use gender neutral language for her ex-partner. And obviously, Josh has never given us a specific label for himself and so I didn’t want to assume anything about him by doing so myself but I do write that he’s had past relationships with both men and women – but I am in no way claiming to know his dating life or how he identifies. I hope you all enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day to each of you <3 

Warnings: Smut (p in v sex, unprotected sex), oral (f. receiving), fingering, pleasuredom!Josh, discussions of infidelity (past relationship - not between reader and Josh), slight panic attack (nothing major), feelings of body insecurity, parties, drinking. 18 Only. Minors DNI 

Word Count: 5k

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Fuck them was all you really had left to say. In all honesty… there wasn’t much to say at this point. You’d given them 3 years of your life – 3 years spent crafting a future around a person who, in the end, hadn’t cared enough to do the same for you. You’d been with them for 3 whole years, had spent hours and hours of time with them, loved them at their best and their worst, comforted them when they needed it, been their shoulder to cry on, celebrated their achievements, and loved them with your whole heart for those entire 3 years. And how had they repaid you in the end? By climbing into bed with someone else. A quick fuck with a stranger that they met at a bar was apparently worth more than the 3 years that you had spent loving them the way that you had. It’s crazy how even after all that time you can still find out that you hardly even knew a person at all. 

And now here you are the day before Valentine's Day eating ice cream and watching The Office reruns on your couch to try and keep from actually thinking about the hurt you have in your heart. You’ve cried all the tears you have and now you’re just left with a hollowness that you can’t seem to shake. There’s a hole in your heart where all that love for them used to be and now you’re stuck in this weird limbo between heartbroken and downright furious. 

Ping!You glance down to where your phone screen has lit up with a text message. You pick it up and immediately sigh at the message that waits for you. 

Danny 9:08 PM 

Please tell me you’re still going to come to the party tomorrow night 

You hadn’t been planning on it. You’d thought since the very moment that Josh had brought up the idea of a Valentine’s Day party that it was borderline ridiculous. But you had agreed to go simply because your partn- your ex had said that they wanted to go. But now that they weren’t in the picture anymore… the thought of going to a party where everyone is going to be hanging off the arms of their partners and, as Josh had put it, love is gonna be in the air! makes you want to scream. Hell no. Fuck no, even. 

You 9:09 PM 

Don’t think so. Not really in the Valentine’s Day mood to be honest. 

It takes hardly even a minute before Danny answers you back. 

Danny 9:10 PM 

Totally fair 

Danny 9:12 PM

There’s gonna be free booze tho… And you’ve gotta stop rotting away on your couch eventually

You pause for a moment before answering. He’s right to be completely honest. You’ve spent two weeks holed up in your apartment and wallowing in self-pity after your breakup. And honestly it’s starting to get a little old. But a Valentine’s Day party? You’re not sure that that is going to be the best break from your self-imposed lock down. But on the other hand… free booze does make the whole idea just a little bit more appealing. Plus, it’d be a great excuse to get dressed up and feel sexy for a night and have it be just for you and not for anyone else. And you haven’t actually gotten to see Danny and the rest of the guys a whole lot recently thanks to their busy schedules. 

You sigh once again before texting Danny back in defeat. 

You 9:15 PM 

Fine

♡︵‿♡︵‿♡‿︵♡‿︵♡

Any and all excitement that you had the night before is entirely gone by the time you step through the doorway of Josh’s incredibly color-coordinated home. You’d felt sexy in your outfit as you’d stepped out of your apartment but the loud music and even louder people make you want to turn heel and run in the opposite direction. But you’re here now so you figure you might as well enjoy the free booze. You’d taken an Uber tonight solely so that you can get as drunk as you want without having to worry about driving back to your apartment.

“Y/n!” 

Danny comes bounding over to you, crushing you in a hug that steals your breath away. You squeeze him back and giggle softly. 

“You smell like beer.” You scold him, wrinkling your nose in mock disgust. 

Danny smiles and nudges your shoulder with his. 

“And you don’t and that’s just not acceptable.” 

With a comforting hand placed on your upper back, Danny leads you through the crowd of people into Josh’s kitchen where an array of bottles and stacks of red solo cups await you on the counter. And amidst it all, pouring himself another drink, is the host of this over-the-top Valentine’s Day party. He grins at you as you and Danny enter and you can’t help but to smile back. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna make it out tonight!” Josh starts, throwing back a shot before turning his body to face the two of you fully. 

You shrug and jab your thumb towards Danny who laughs lightly. 

“I’m persuasive.” Is the only bit of explanation he gives. 

“And annoying.” You mutter playfully as you walk over to the counter to survey the various choices in alcohol that lay before you. “Watcha makin?” 

Josh’s attention drops back down to the drink that he’d been in the middle of pouring when you’d walked in. 

“Tequila Sunrise.” He holds up the glass for you to see and you’re impressed with how nice the drink looks. “I’m no bartender but…”

You shake your head, eyeing the beautifully balanced red and orange colors in the glass. 

“Nonsense. You know you’re good at mixing drinks. That looks great.”

A pink blush dusts the apples of his cheeks (the color of them making the white dots of his makeup stand out even more) and even the tips of his ears turn a shade darker at your compliment. 

“I think you should try a sip before you praise me too much.” He extends his hand and holds the glass out to you. “For you. And if it sucks… Jake is the one who told me how to make it so blame him.”

You take the glass and sip the drink, closing your eyes and humming at the taste. Josh is watching you intently and you wonder briefly if he’s always been so damn attractive.

“And if it’s really good?” You question, taking another sip. 

He puffs out his chest and grins. 

“Why then it’s all me, of course.”

You can only shake your head at him but a smile spreads across your lips despite yourself. 

“It’s really good, Josh. You have my stamp of approval.”

Your eyes meet Josh’s and those brown eyes of his glint with something that you can’t quite name before it’s gone in a flash. You drop your gaze to the drink in your hand and Josh looks towards Danny. 

“Daniel, care for a drink?”

– 

You’d spent the last hour or two milling about throughout the house, saying hi to friends and occasionally bumping into Josh who always smiles warmly at you in passing as he busies himself with being a cordial host. 

And you’d had perhaps one too many drinks and the room is starting to spin by the time you collapse onto a sofa to take a breather. Danny had stuck by your side for a while before his date had arrived, at which point you’d latched yourself onto Sam until he decided to leave early with a girl he met. You’d gone searching for Jake but he’d been nowhere to be found. Likely, he’s already gone home. He’s never one to stick around at social gatherings this big for too long. 

You try not to but your heart aches slightly that you’d been abandoned by Sam and Danny. You know that ‘abandoned’ is a strong word but… they knew you were freshly single and hurting. You had hoped that they would have been more willing to spend just a little extra time with you tonight. In fact, the longer you think about it, the more your hurt feelings begin to grow. You’re not angry with them. Not all. If you’re being honest with yourself, you envy them. They both had someone to spend the night with tonight. Jake, too. 

You glance around and suddenly all you can see is other people with their partners. Holding hands, laughing, touching, kissing. Your breathing picks up. Does everyone here but you have someone? It sure freaking feels like it. Maybe it’s the alcohol making you have such a strong reaction but you’re suddenly desperate to get out of here. You need to get out of this place. You stand, the abrupt movement causing your head to spin a bit but you ignore it in favor of trying to find an escape. As you make your way through the throng of people it’s like navigating through a sea made of nothing but smiles and kisses that aren’t for you. Your eyes scan frantically until at last… there! The door to the back porch. 

You push your way to it and open the door quickly and slam it shut behind you as you escape out onto Josh’s back porch. You pause there, bowing your head and taking a moment to try and steady your breathing. Your throat burns with unshed tears but you swallow them down – you refuse to shed any more tears over the person who treated you so horribly. You refuse to give them the satisfaction. 

“Y/n?” 

The sound of your name makes you jump and your eyes snap open to find Josh leaning against the bannister, his head turned back to look at you. 

“Hi.” You answer him, willing your voice to sound more composed than you feel. “I didn’t see you out here.” 

He smiles and beckons you over to him with a lazy wave.

“Just taking a break for a moment.” His voice carries a warmth that you hadn’t realized you needed as you come to lean on the bannister beside him. “You okay?” He keeps his face purposefully neutral but you can see the concern swirling in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Just got a little overwhelming in there.”

He nods, the motion making an errant curl settle onto his forehead. Your hand itches to reach up and swipe it back into place. 

“No Alex tonight?” 

It’s an innocent question but your ex’s name sends your heart breaking all over again. You’re not even sure why you’re still so upset. Clearly they didn’t love you the way you had loved them and you want to say that you’ve moved on but… 

“No. We’re not together anymore.” 

“Oh.” Josh breathes out, his features melting into a look of pure sympathy. It makes you want to cry even more. “I’m sorry.” 

You shrug.

“It’s okay, really. They fucked a stranger in our own bed so… I’d say it’s a good thing that we broke things off.”

Josh winces at the bitterness in your tone and looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what. 

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m still so upset. It’s not like I love them anymore. Not really.”  The alcohol in your systems seems to have loosened your tongue as you begin speaking again despite having no intentions of wanting to talk about them at all tonight. 

“Anyone would be upset, Y/n. Alex betrayed your trust. Regardless of how you feel about them now… it’s still painful. That’s normal.”

You huff. 

“It’s stupid. Stupid and tiring and-” You stop yourself and swallow thickly. “Sorry.” 

Josh smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes all the way but it’s genuine. 

“Don’t be. Trust me, I know how you feel. Once that trust is broken… it’s like you’re afraid you’ll never get it back again. With anyone.” 

You turn to look at him but his face is pointed back out to the yard. As willing as Josh is to discuss matters like this with others, his own relationships he’s always been private about. He’s had a few relationships that you know of in the years that you’ve known him – some men, some women. You’d met only a handful of them in person but he’d never seemed to allow anyone in your little circle to actually get to know them other than Jake. You had no idea that maybe he’s gone through something similar. 

“Sometimes I just… It feels like I’m never going to find my person. And all this-” You gesture towards the door and the Valentine’s Day festivities that lay beyond it, “just didn’t really help at all. It feels like everyone has someone but me.”

A warm, steadying hand lands on your shoulder and you swear that a tingle runs up the length of your spine at the touch. Josh’s eyes glitter in the light of the night sky and the porch light casts shadows across his sharp jawline. And as you look at him, it feels like you’re seeing him, really seeing him for the first time. And he’s beautiful. 

“You’ll find your person, Y/n. I know you will. You’re too nice of a person to not.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot. 

“Thank you, Josh. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He grins, dropping his hand from your shoulder at last. “That’s what friends are for, right? Helping each other out when we’re down?”

For some reason, his words make you pause. You and Josh have been friends for so long and you’d only ever seen him as a friend. But now, standing next to him and thinking back to all the years of kindness and laughter that he’s given you… you’re struck suddenly with the thought that maybe you don’t just want to be friends with him. You’ve always been able to acknowledge that he’s attractive. And he makes you laugh like no one else can. Always there for you when you need a shoulder to cry on. Hell, he’s been one of the only constants in your ever-changing life. And he’s-

You shake your head at yourself. He’s just a friend. He’d just said so himself. 

“I wish more people were like you, Josh.” You find yourself saying softly. “You’re one of the good ones.”

He blushes – the apples of his cheeks flushing a dark red that reaches all the way down his neck too. Has he always blushed this much around you? First earlier when you’d complimented his drink making and now… Surely not. Right?

“You just have to be patient.” He tilts his head and grins, nudging your shoulder playfully with his. “And hey, if you can’t find someone else you can always give dating me a try.” 

You don’t mean to but you laugh, perhaps a little harder than you should have. The idea has your heart pounding in your chest and you desperately don’t want him to see how much the joke affected you. A desperate wish that bleeds into regret as you watch the light in his eyes dim ever so slightly as you laugh. 

You want to take it back. You want to tell him that maybe you’ve been blind this whole time and not seen what was right in front of you. But he only smiles tightly and straightens himself, popping his back and rolling his neck before beginning to turn away. 

“I suppose I should get back inside. I’m being a terrible host by hiding out here.” 

With that, he turns on his heel to begin walking back inside but his name explodes past your lips before you can stop it. 

“Yeah?” 

The hope in his voice makes your stomach drop. 

“I-” You don’t know. You don’t know what to say. You don’t even know if these feelings are real. Have they been here this whole time, hiding under the surface? Or did it take you getting heartbroken by someone else to see the kindness that he’s been offering for years? There’s so many questions swirling through your head and you can’t seem to even form a full thought. Defeatedly, you shake your head. “Never mind. I’ll see you later.”

Josh stares at you for a long, tense moment before nodding his head. 

“I’ll see you later, Y/n.” 

You turn away before you see him leave but the sound of the back door shutting makes you wince. Should you have told him how you feel? Hell, you don’t understand how you’re feeling so you don’t even know what you would have told him anyway. 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just made a mistake. You’ve spent years desperately wishing for true love. Dates with people had come and gone and Alex had just been the first person who seemed to want the same from a relationship as you. No one had expected you to date them. No one had expected the two of you to last as long as you did. And honestly? You hadn’t expected it either. Alex was… comfortable. Safe. 

You’d been so caught up, so desperate to find love… and maybe it’s been right in front of you all along. He has been right in front of you. And you just let him walk away. 

Frantically, you whirl around to go and find him but stop short at the sight of Josh shoving the door open and coming back outside. He looks frenzied but determined as he strides over to you. You’re frozen in place, but with each step that he takes you grow more and more certain about the warmth spreading through your chest. Yes, he really had been right here all along. 

Josh stops. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. 

“Y/n.” His voice is soft – quiet but just as determined as his steps had been. “I couldn’t- I had to come back. I couldn’t not tell you.” He rambles, his dark eyes pinning you in place before him. “I know we’re just friends and- and I know that you don’t-” 

“Josh,” you interrupt, “I love you too.”

“What?” 

He’s utterly still, jaw dropped open and eyes gaping at you. If your heart wasn’t pounding so hard you think you might laugh at the sight of Josh Kiszka rendered speechless. 

“I said I love you too. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before… but I do, Josh.” 

His mouth remains open for a long moment and you think for one brief, horrible second that you’ve made a mistake and he doesn’t feel the same. But then his lips spread into a wide smile that makes your heart melt. 

“You- you love me?” 

You nod. 

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner.” 

He huffs, the noise a mix between a sigh and a laugh before he takes a step even closer, his lips hovering just above yours. He pauses there, waiting. You give him a slight nod and then his lips are on yours – soft and pillowy and oh so warm against your own. With a soft whine, your hands find perchance on his shoulders while his palms settle on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your cheek bones. The heat of him is delicious and you use your grip on his shoulders to pull him in closer to you. He answers with a breathy moan into your mouth that sends liquid fire pooling between your legs.  

“Y/n.” Your name escapes him with a sigh, his lips parting from yours for a moment to breathe. “I’ve dreamed of this.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper, lips ghosting over his once again, just barely touching. “Just of kissing me?”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head, curls bouncing. 

“Much more than that.” 

“Show me?” 

Josh answers you with a Cheshire grin and turns his head to look over his shoulder at the party still going on inside. 

“Think they’ll notice that I’m gone?”

“We can be quick.” 

He shakes his head and grins but laces his fingers with yours and begins to tug you towards the door. 

“No. We won’t.” 

“You can’t just leave.” You start to protest but Josh silences you with a grin. 

“They’ll take the hint and leave eventually. We’ll worry about cleaning up tomorrow.”

– 

You barely notice the people as Josh leads you through them and none of them seem to notice the two of you as you both slip up the stairs. It feels like a dream as he tugs you through the threshold of his bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft ‘click.’ 

“So many dreams and so little time.” He murmurs, hands finding your hips and guiding you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the bed. 

Josh kisses you again before pulling back and letting the moment hold for a moment. You take in your surroundings. The soft, white bed sheets. The warm glow of the lamp in the corner and the smell of incense. The room screams Josh – cluttered but organized, comfy.  

“But enough time,” Josh continues, palms sweeping down your sides, “that we can do as much or as little as you want tonight.” 

Josh is selfless in everything else that he does and you can’t help but smile knowing that he's selfless in here too. 

“I want you.” Is all your brain can manage to come up with. 

But it does the trick given the way Josh’s eyes glitter with mischief as his fingers dance across your shoulders and hook underneath the straps of your dress. 

“Can I take this off?”

You nod and he slides the fabric down, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving your bra and panties on display for him. You’d gone with black lace and based on the groan that rumbles in his chest, it was the right choice. Before undressing you further, Josh tugs his own shirt up and over his head and tosses it haphazardly to the floor. His khakis are next and you exhale shakily as you take in his smooth, creamy skin. His body is lithe and toned, muscles defined but still slim. There’s something effortlessly graceful about his body and you reach out a hand to feel him, a palm settling on his pec and the other hand grabbing his waist and squeezing. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His words come out husky and a little gruff and your core pulses. “Bra off then on the bed.” 

You comply, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor before jumping up and scrambling backwards until your back hits the wall of plush pillows guarding the head board. He follows you, climbing onto the bed and settling onto his knees between your thighs. Chocolate eyes sweep up to yours, somehow filled with an almost innocence despite what the two of you are about to do. 

“Can I taste you, Y/n?” He pleas– and it is a plea. 

You want to nod. To let him use that pretty mouth on you for as long as he pleases. But years of insecurity – insecurity that’s only been made worse after recent events, bubbles to the surface. 

“I- I didn’t shave. You don’t have to.” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You hate that you feel like this. You hate how every single cell in your body wants to close your thighs and hide from him despite the love that you see swirling through his eyes. 

“I want to.” Josh answers, warm hands finding purchase on your thighs. “And I don’t care about whether or not you shaved, Y/n. It’s your body that you’re choosing to share with me.” His thumbs trace small, soothing circles into your skin. “But if you don’t feel comfortable that’s okay too.” 

You take a deep breath. You let all those insecurities that have welled up recently come to the forefront of your mind. You let yourself feel each one. And then you let them go. 

“Y-you can. You can taste me.”

Josh smiles softly, the weight of your trust not lost on him as he leans down and slides your panties down your legs. Already soaked, Josh hums at the sight. 

“Stunning.” He says, swiping a finger through your folds and earning a cry from between your lips. 

Hooking his arms beneath your thighs and dropping his body to lay against the mattress, Josh pulls your glistening center flush against him and sucks your clit into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the swollen bud and your hips buck up to meet the feeling. 

“Oh fuck.” You whine, eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of pleasure. 

His tongue works over you effortlessly, switching between circling around your clit and slipping into your entrance. The sound is obscene. Your wetness coupled with the way Josh moans into your heat has the band of pleasure in your lower belly beginning to tighten already. It’s like he somehow knows exactly what you like the most – effortlessly coaxing you to the edge. He’s groaning into you, head thrashing from side to side and his own hips pushing down into the bed.

“Josh.” You warn, your body beginning to tense as the white hot pleasure keeps building. 

“Cum in my mouth, mama. I need it.” 

With one last lick of his tongue against you the wave breaks. With a loud cry, you let the pleasure overtake you and Josh keeps working you through it, making sure to give you the most pleasure he can as your orgasm works its way through you. 

Finally, he sits up and wipes his mouth against the back of his hand. 

“How was that?” 

It’s an innocent question but the cocky grin he’s sporting lets you know that he knows exactly how good it was. 

“Fuck.” Is all you manage to say and Josh giggles. 

“Eloquent.” 

Josh sits up and you can see his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers, his flushed tip trapped underneath the waistband. Even covered you can see that he’s big. You’d always known that he was – his jumpsuits leave little to the imagination. But seeing it like this, hard and leaking for you, makes your breath stutter in your chest. You reach out to feel him but he stops you, shaking his head and grinning. 

“Not done yet.” Is all he says before his fingers find your wet folds again. 

Slowly, he presses a finger in and you whine, legs falling apart wider as he curls the digit. He’s watching you intently, noting every shift of your hips and every change in expression as he explores your body, finding what makes you tick. His finger brushes against your sweet spot and you cry out his name. 

“Oh fuck, Josh. Right there.” 

He grins. 

“There it is.” 

He adds another finger, scissoring them to stretch you but making sure to brush that spot over and over again as he does so. You’re a whining mess beneath him, embarrassingly close to cumming again already. No one has ever paid attention like this – actually taking the time to learn your body and its responses in order to maximize your pleasure. Maybe it's that thought that has you about to reach climax again. 

“You gonna cum on my fingers, Y/n?”

You nod your head, unable to form words as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“Yeah? I can feel you squeezing them, baby. You can cum, angel. Just let it go.”

Your body trembles and shakes all over as you cum and Josh moans in delight at the sight of you surrendering to pleasure, at the sight of the pleasure that he is giving you. This one lasts longer than the last and Josh works you through every second of it until you're panting and shying away from the touch as the oversensitivity hits you. 

“Good?” He murmurs, eyes practically black as they stare at you. 

“Very, very good.” You answer with a lazy, satiated smile. “Are you going to fuck me now?” 

Josh’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and your eyes track the movement. You want him. You want him so bad it aches. 

“Only if you want me to. We don’t have to do anything else tonight.”

Of course he didn’t expect more from you. And you’re 100% certain that if you asked him to, he’d lay down and go to bed with you right now despite how hard his aching member must be. But you don’t want that. You want him. All of him. 

“I want you to, Josh. I need you to fuck me.”

A soft, delicate little whine escapes him. 

“Okay.” 

Wordlessly, he reaches over to his night stand and opens a drawer. His hand disappears inside it before reappearing with a condom in hand. He palms himself once with his right hand through his boxers before hooking his fingers in the waistband and tugging them down. 

You never knew that a cock could be so fucking pretty. 

He rips the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his length, hissing as he does so. 

You let your legs fall apart and beckon him to you. With dark eyes, Josh pumps his length in his hand once, twice, before he guides himself into your soaked entrance. He’s big, the stretch causing a delicious mix of pleasure bordering on pain. He moans as he bottoms out and your hands latch onto his shoulders and your fingertips dig into the muscle. 

“Fuck, you feel good.” You moan, already aching for him to move. 

“And you feel like satin, angel. So fuckin’ tight.”

Slowly, Josh pulls almost all the way out of you before sliding back in again. His arms come to rest on either side of your head, his weight resting on his forearms. With each snap of his hips you can’t help but moan. Every movement, every inch of him, sends sparks of pleasure through your entire body.  Sex with Alex had been rough – frenzied and almost mindless. But this? This is worship. 

“Don’t stop.” You beg, heels digging into his hips to keep him close. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice sounds wrecked – cracked and broken with his own pleasure. 

“You’re so good.” You find yourself mumbling, eyes squeezing shut. “So fucking good, Josh.”

You can feel his length twitch and pulse inside of you as soon as the words leave your mouth. He likes knowing that he’s making you feel good. 

“Wanna make you cum, mama. Wanna make you feel good.” He whines, jaw dropping open and face contorting in pleasured agony. 

You nod your head frantically, tits bouncing as he picks up his pace. 

“Feels so good. Oh fuck!” Your own voice sounds foreign to you – high pitched and almost squeaky. You’re losing yourself in the pleasure, his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly. 

“Please cum, baby. Cum on my cock. I need to feel it.”

His right hand slips into the heated space between your bodies and his finger finds your clit, ruthlessly swirling the pad of his finger in time with his thrusts. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum, Josh. Please, please, please.”

“You don’t have to beg, baby.” He grits out, his pace beginning to falter as your walls clench mercilessly around him. “Gonna take care of you. Gonna get you there.”

It hardly takes a minute more before the band snaps. With a harsh scream, your orgasm rips through you. Stars explode behind your eyes and any thoughts that you had have been ripped from you. All you can focus on is the pleasure as Josh keeps fucking you through your high. The only words you can think of fall from your lips in a breathy whine. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Josh cries out harshly, his own body tensing as he finally lets himself reach his own climax. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming. Y/n.” His words are almost a growl, rumbling from deep within his chest as his orgasm hits him fully. “I love you too. Fuck, I love you so much.”

With one last thrust of his hips the two of you finally settle, Josh’s weight coming down to pin you to the mattress as you both come back to yourselves. He doesn’t pull out, allowing the intimacy of the moment to stretch on. 

“My God.” You mumble, your throat feeling raw from screaming. 

Josh leans down to capture your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth lazily for a moment before he draws back. 

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I took so long.” 

“I would have waited even longer so long as I got to have you in the end.”

You pull him down to kiss him again. 

“You have me.”

♡︵‿♡︵‿♡‿︵♡‿︵♡

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[leupagus]

🧠💻 💭!

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

Oh man - I still want to write a sequel to the Miss Marple fic I wrote, but the actual plot hasn't really solidified yet. I just want it to be a sort of Rear Window type situation, except instead of a murderer they're on the trail of like, someone who's been stealing milk bottles in St. Mary Meade. Not sure if it's funnier if Miss Marple or Detective Finch has the broken legs, so feel free to weigh in in the replies here.

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

I do so much research and honestly there've been so many weird embarrassing deep dives that I can't keep track of them all. I will say that for the new GOT fic series I'm writing, I've done a truly ridiculous amount of research on wool harvesting in polar regions. It's not great bob.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

That in a kind of dwell and welcome, Trent named his daughter after Serafina Pekkala from His Dark Materials.

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench. 

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.” 

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities. 

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.” 

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?” 

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.” 

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along. 

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?” 

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected. 

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands. 

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.” 

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck. 

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness. 

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more. 

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs. 

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face. 

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?” 

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans. 

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. 

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid. 

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man. 

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip. 

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on. 

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk. 

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting. 

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip. 

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message. 

I’m serious. 

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color. 

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap. 

I’m fine with it if you are. 

Putting bats on my forearm. 

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing. 

I’m more than fine with it. 

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you. 

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear. 

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other. 

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them. 

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?” 

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom. 

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission. 

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this. 

This looked like fear. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide. 

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously. 

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce. 

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?” 

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor. 

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand. 

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand. 

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle. 

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.” 

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

 When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off. 

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.” 

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you. 

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal. 

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved. 

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low. 

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?” 

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.” 

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway. 

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing. 

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall. 

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar. 

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism. 

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it. 

On Halloween, he could just be. 

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer. 

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license. 

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie. 

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set. 

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout. 

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable. 

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you. 

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him. 

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life. 

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy. 

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second. 

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you. 

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?” 

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.” 

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart. 

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?” 

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it. 

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking. 

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap. 

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.” 

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles. 

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine. 

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.” 

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?” 

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?” 

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room. 

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be. 

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing. 

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled. 

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out. 

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.” 

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.” 

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.” 

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis. 

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped. 

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like. 

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now. 

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel. 

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message. 

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins? 

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on. 

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze. 

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie. 

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire. 

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again. 

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine. 

“Are you?” You heard him ask. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.” 

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?” 

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-��� You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz. 

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line. 

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous. 

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…” 

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?” 

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.” 

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke. 

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it. 

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way. 

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all. 

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat. 

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours. 

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day. 

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

 You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear. 

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question. 

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.” 

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled. 

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles. 

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too. 

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.” 

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did? 

Ah, fuck it. 

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.” 

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.” 

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?” 

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before. 

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out. 

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere. 

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped. 

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you. 

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked. 

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him. 

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

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