#i always love seeing her pop up on your blog -- i was so excited to finally sit down and draw her :D

[good-beansdraws]

Yaaay, I got to do an art swap with @kyanako5972 -- here's her wonderful oc Claire Inez, featured in her webcomic SWAP Ensemble 🎶 Claire was a blast to draw, I hope I could do her justice!!

Failed versions include trial song background that just looked lame/unreadable, and the original singing pose that just looked off for some reason...

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: ALIEN!HYUNJIN, PLANETARY SCIENTIST!READER, SEMI-PUBLIC SEX, BREEDING, APHRODISIAC, SPIT, LIP BITING, TEASING, PET NAMES (DOLL, HUN, DARLING, BABY), NIPPLE PLAY, FINGERING, OVERSIM, READER IS VERY SENSITIVE THE WHOLE TIME, BIG COCK! HYUNJIN, TENTACLES, PRAISE/DEGRADING, CERVIX FUCKING, EGG IMPLANTING, ROUGH SEX, UNPROTECTED SEX, DOM!HYUNJIN, SUB!READER, SUBSPACE (?), TUMMY BULDGE (?), INFLATION (?) ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Space was massive. So much to learn about, star formations, their life cycle, other galaxies, planets, and solar systems. The unknown drew Y/n in. Maybe that’s why she fell for Hyunjin so hard. 

     He was different. Loved the fact she was a planetary scientist. Constantly asked her questions that had her rambling for hours on end. First, it embarrassed her but he always reassured her he found it so adorable when she rambled about her work. He loved hearing about her theories on extraterrestrial life. Not knowing he crash-landed on Earth from another planet. 

     At least, she didn��t know at first. She had a deep feeling there was something about him that just wasn’t right. Came up with several hypotheses before he sat her down when he came to pick her up from work and explained to her he was indeed an alien. 

     He was scared. Scared he’d lose her and be stuck alone on Earth until he figured out how to get his stupid ship working again. 

     But that didn’t happen. No, he saw her eyes sparkle with excitement over the news. Running around her private lab asking him if any of the planets she’d found were his. What was it like in his home world? How was the air? technology? any question that popped into her head

     He was sure she was going to implode with excitement the more questions she thought of. That was the night he first kissed her too. It was only a few months ago it happened but it almost seemed like years away. 

     Since then, he picked her up from work every night. It was rare they left on time. Y/n easily indulged in her work, especially when she could interview an actual alien about his home world. Tonight was no different. 

     She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even hear him come into the lab. Focused on her computer, examining photos of a planet and its moons. She didn’t hear him come in. He closed the door as gently as he could behind him and silently made his way over to her. He stood behind her and slowly leaned down with the intent to kiss the top of her head. 

     Y/n felt someone behind her and looked back to see the handsome alien pouting at his failed kiss, “Hi Hyune.”

     “Ruined my surprise kiss.” 

     “Can I still get a kiss?”

     Hyunjin smiled and cupped her face and pecked her lips, “How’s work?”

     “Mhmm. Not bad, just trying to figure out if this planet could sustain life.”

     Hyunjin took a look at the planet on the screen. It was a few lightyears away from his own and he’d seen it a couple of times traveling. 

     “A small one, I think. I can’t exactly remember,” Hyunjin stated as he pulled up a chair next to her

     Y/n smiled at him, “I should press you for info on all my exoplanet discoveries.”

     “Do I get a reward for all my info?” Hyunjin smiled, pulling her chair closer to him. 

     “Maybe.”

     Hyunjin pulled her into his lap and she squeaked in surprise. Holding onto his shoulders before settling on his lap. “I want a kiss for every piece of alien info I tell you,” Hyunjin stated

     “Deal.” Y/n figured it would be harmless. A kiss for info and she got to cuddle her boyfriend while working? Score. 

     She rewarded him with a peck on his plump lips for the info he previously provided her. She went through some more plants and asked him questions, rewarding him with kisses after he finished answering. 

     “What about reproduction? Is it similar for all species or is it different?” She asked 

     “Different. Some have eggs, some are similar to how humans breed. Most species I know have a breeding season.” Hyunjin explained. 

     Y/n pecked his lips, “What about you? What’s your species’ reproduction like?”

     “Mhm. Most liquids in our bodies are similar to aphrodisiacs. It makes the process easier for the female.”

     “Process?” Y/n asked

     “Hm. Kiss first,” Hyunjin puckered his lips at her

     Y/n pecked his lips again. “What process?”

     “Egg implanting.”

     Y/n’s eyes went wide. Her ears felt like they were on fire, mouth wide open. Hyunjin chuckled and closed her jaw before pecking her lips. 

     “Don’t go too dumb on me yet doll,” Hyunjin teased, placing a kiss on her shoulder

     “When—“ Y/n cleared her throat before wrapping her arms around his neck, “When’s your breeding season?”

     “Mm, should be starting in a couple of days.”

     Y/n pecked his lips one last time, “Let’s go home, that’s enough information for today.”

     Two days went by far too slowly. Y/n used the prior day to let the information her boyfriend had told her to settle in. Today, she was so unfocused with work. The day was going by way too slowly. Most of the time was spent thinking about what he had said. 

     She read stories on the internet of people claiming they’d been abducted by aliens— in most cases “Grays”— and essentially became a human incubator. The truth behind them was up for debate. No one ever had evidence other than the supposed victim’s word. 

     Y/n was lost in her thoughts thinking about it when she felt arms wrap around her waist. She jumped and turned around, being met with the smiling face of her boyfriend calmed her down. 

     “You alright?” he asked 

     “Yeah. Just scared me,” She replied as she turned in his arms and kissed his lips. 

     Hyunjin smiled into the kiss and kissed, holding onto her hips. “What’s got you lost in thought?” He asked as he broke the kiss. 

     Y/n couldn't find the words to tell him what it was she was thinking about. How do you tell your alien boyfriend you’d been thinking about him breeding you for two days?

     “Talk to me hun,” Hyuniin said and kissed her cheek.

     “Do you remember when we were talking about, uhm… you're breeding season,” Y/n started

     “Yeah, why?” 

     “Don’t make me say it Hyune,” Y/n pleaded, face all red

     “But how will I know what you want if you don't tell me?”

     Hyunjin slowly backed her up into her desk. Y/n gripped his shirt, trying to gather any bit of courage to tell him. 

     Hyunjin grabbed her chin and lifted her lips to his. He licked his lower lip before pushing them onto her again. Y/n relaxed against him as she sat on her desk. Hyunjins hands moved up to cup her face, tilting her head back and deepening the kiss. 

     Y/n moaned against his lips, gripping his shirt tighter. Hyunjin pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled away from the kiss. He locked eyes with her before releasing her lip. “Tell me what you want darling.”

     “Want you to breed me,” Y/n finally let out

     “Open your mouth,” Hyunjin smiled as he held her jaw as it fell open, “Tongue out.”

     Y/n stuck her tongue out for him. Hyunjin hovered over her and let a glob of spit drop from his lips onto her tongue. “Swallow.”

     Hyunjin watched her pull her tongue back into her mouth and swallow his spit. He tilted her head back and leaned down to kiss her neck and pull her legs around his waist. ���Remember when I said most liquids in my body were similar to an aphrodisiac?” Hyunjin questioned

     “Yes,” Y/n replied as his lips grazed over the weak spot on her neck

     “Saliva is the main one.”

     Her body felt so hot to every little touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold herself up and he placed wet open mouth kisses on her neck. Pulling herself closer to him as his hands trailed down to unbutton her top. 

     He was quick to get the fabric off her and toss it to the ground. Hands grabbing her breasts and massaging them as he sucked his mark onto her neck. 

     Her hands pulled up at the collar of his shirt. Mumbling a quick “off” before he pulled away and tossed his shirt off. He grabbed her face again to bring his lips onto hers. Y/n caught a glimpse of his eyes before he was shoving his tongue down her throat. His usual dark brown eyes were a striking dark blue, the whites turning dark. 

      “Jinnie,” Y/n moaned after he pulled away and pushed the objects behind her out of the way, “your eyes…”

     “What about them?” he asked as he looked over her face 

     “They changed.”

     “Happens during arousal during the breeding process.” He briefly explained, unhooking her bra and pulling it off her chest. 

     He pushed her down on the desk and attacked her nipples. His hands slid under the skirt she wore today and his tongue flicked her nipples. He switched to the other bud and gave it the same brief treatment then pulled away. 

     Hyunjin pulled the remaining bit of fabric off her body till she was completely nude on her desk. He’d seen her completely nude before. His aphrodisiac saliva explained why everything felt so good when they’d had sex previously. 

     His physical appearance was very similar to humans. His eyes made her shy under his gaze. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as her hands moved to cover her chest. Hyunjin was quicker and pinned her wrists against the table. 

     “Don't. Wanna see you,” Hyunjin said as he leaned in and kissed her again. Both moaned into the kiss. Y/n snuck her tongue into his mouth. 

     Hyunjin pushed back with his own. Y/n ground her hips against his crotch. 

     “Need you Jinnie,” Y/n moaned when he pulled away

     “All shy a second ago, now you're beginning for me.” Hyunjin chuckled as his hand dipped down between her legs. 

     His lips attached to her neck again, two fingers running through her wet folds. “Fucking soaked, all for me.” he groaned as he pushed two long fingers into her. Y/n just about came right there, probably just because of the aphrodisiac. 

     His fingers curled up into her. Her free hand grabbed onto his arm to ground herself, even a little. She felt so fucked out and they’d barely done anything too far. 

     “All sensitive aren't you,” Hyunjin teased as his lips came down to her breast again, “My pretty doll gonna come yet?”

     “Yes! Please Jinnie! Wanna come for you!”

     Hyunjin wrapped his lips around one of her hard nipples as he interested a third finger into her. Switching from curling his fingers into her to thrusting into her. 

     Her back arched off the surface as a silent screen fell from her mouth. Walls clamping down on his fingers. The knot in her stomach snapped soon after he started sucking on her nipples. Hyunjin fingered her through her high, pulling off her nipples and pulling his fingers out once she came down. 

     While she caught her breath, Hyunjin discarded his pants. Y/n glanced down at him as he pulled his cock out of his boxers. Somewhere in the back of her mind was questioning how exactly the egg implanting worked since his dick looked like a human dick. It was not in length, that was for sure. 

     Hyunjin grabbed her legs and pushed them wide open. “Are you ready hun?” he asked, lining his tip at her entrance, smearing his precum between her folds with her slick. 

     Y/n nodded, then she noticed the appendages sneaking out around his waist. Before she had time to ask, he pushed into her, fitting what he could before her cervix. There wasn’t any pain, just pleasure. His hands left her thighs and the two tentacles took over holding them open. His hands wrapped around hers and pinned her down onto the table below. 

     “You have tentacles too?” Y/n asked as she got adjusted to his length in her

     “Yeah. Seven total,” He huffed

     “Why are you only using two?”

     Hyunjin smirked as three more came from over his shoulders Two wrapped around her breasts, tips latching onto her nipples as he started thrusting in and out of her. The third hovered and waited to be put to use. No time for her to ask where the sixth and seventh were. 

     The tentacles wrapped around her were smooth against her skin. Still sensitive from foreplay and his aphrodisiac spit. She was assuming his precum was another aphrodisiac. 

     Her back was already arching off the desk again as he stood back to watch her as he fucked her. He moved the third tentacle from to pin her arms down onto the desk above her head. 

     “Wish you could see yourself, baby. Look so good with my tentacles wrapped around you.” Hyunjin chuckled, picking up his pace. 

     The tentacles around her thighs helped by moving her body with his thrusts, lifting her off the desk just slightly. 

     “So deep,” Y/n moaned as her head lolled back against her desk, mouth hung open 

     Hyunjin laughed, he didn't know how much he’d enjoy having her all wrapped and dumb on his cock. “I could be deeper hun.”

     “Please Jin… more,” Y/n moaned

     Hyunjin smiled and pushed his hair back, shorter pieces sticking to his forehead from the sweat he had worked up. He leaned down and spit in her open mouth. Y/n swallowed it as he grabbed onto her hips, stilling inside her for a moment.

     He pulled out for a moment, spitting in her cunt then pushing back in. But his dick felt different. No veins brushing against her gummy walls. It felt like there was nothing, but she knew he was filling her up. 

     Then she felt it. Something small wiggling its way past her cervix. “Jinnie.” Y/n whined as it got wider, pushing its way into her womb

     “Relax doll. I got you,” Hyunjin shushed her. A smaller skinnier tentacle came from above his dick and latched onto her clit.

     “Oh fuck,” Y/n’s voice jumped a good few octaves 

     “That’s my girl,” Hyunjin praised as filled her womb up. He could see his tip under her skin. 

      He picked his pace back up, fucking into her cervix as she became a babbling mess. This was such a normal thing for his species to go through during sex. But he loved seeing his human girlfriend all fucked out like this. 

     “Gonna carry my eggs for me doll? Be a good fucking incubator?” he groaned, his tentacles moving her body to meet his thrusts. 

     The tentacle holding her wrist brought her hands to him. Hyunjin grabbed her hands and pressed them onto her lower stomach. “You feel that doll?” Hyunjin asked

     “Yes,” Y/n weakly answered 

     “Want you the feel me fill you up.”

     He thrusted harder into her and the smaller tentacle worked her clit into hypersensitivity as he came all over him, liquids squirted out of her. The tentacle retracted back into him once it finished its job. The remaining still holding onto her and working her now swollen nipples and fucking her onto him. 

     “Such a good fucking hole,” Hyunjin groaned as he stilled, cum shooting into her womb. 

     Y/n could feel inside her and under her hand, small little balls filling her up along with his cum. 

     “‘S too much Jinnie,” Y/n whined as he pressed her hands into her harder

     “You’re doing so good, baby. You can hold out a little longer till Jinnie’s done filling you with his eggs, right?” he pulled her up and attached his lips to hers, letting the eggs travel from him into her womb. 

     Once he was finished, he pulled out of her and laid her gently on the desk. Tentacles retracted into him again as she caught her breath, eyes drooping closed. 

     “Hyune,” Y/n called weakly

     “Right here baby,” He said as he pulled her into his body

     “Tired,” she grumbled.

     “Go to sleep. I’ll get us home baby.”

     Sleep she did. She didn't know how long she was going for but she woke up in the comfort of her bed with Hyunjin laying next to her, arms wrapped around her as he scrolled through his phone. 

     “Hyune,” she called

     “Morning sleepy head,” he said as he put his phone down, “how are you feeling?”

     “Fuzzy, weird. What happened?”

     “You passed out not long after we finished. I got us dressed and brought you home to clean you up. Was waiting for you to wake up to order food.”

     “Hm. Dinner sounds good right now.”

     The two ordered dinner and Hyunjin grabbed it and brought it into the room when it got to her place. Feeding her even though she claimed she could do it herself.

     While he was cleaning up from dinner, Y/n looked under her shirt. She could see a slight bump under the skin. Hyunjin walked into the room seconds later and lay on her lap, kissing her stomach.

     “Think we’ll have little alien babies?” Y/n asked

     “If they take. I’ve never bred before, let alone outside my home world.” he said, “either way, you look fucking gorgeous carrying my eggs.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[logansargeantsbabymom]

We Did It

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Hurt/Comfort

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

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F1 Masterlist

The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-race energy, fans and media crowding around their favorite drivers. Walking hand-in-hand with Lewis Hamilton, my boyfriend and a Formula 1 legend, I tried to focus on the excitement of the day. Though I was used to the limelight as a (your/age) pop star, the world of F1 was a different beast, and the media frenzy always made me a little anxious.

It had been a whirlwind few months. My Eras Tour had taken me around the globe, performing in sold-out arenas and stadiums. For four months, I had barely seen Lewis, our time together limited to hurried phone calls and stolen moments. The exhaustion from relentless travel and performances weighed heavily on me, but I had managed to carve out two weeks off, just in time for the Silverstone Grand Prix. It was a precious window of time, a chance to reconnect with Lewis and support him at one of the most important races of the season.

We navigated through the crowd, stopping occasionally for photos and autographs. Eventually, we reached the media pen. Lewis was always calm and composed in these moments, but I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we approached a familiar interviewer known for her biting questions.

"Y/N, can I ask you a few questions?" she began, her tone laced with a sugary sweetness that felt anything but genuine.

"Of course," I replied, forcing a smile.

"First, I want to congratulate you on your tour, The Eras Tour! It’s been impossible to get tickets to!" she exclaimed, her smile not reaching her eyes.

"Thank you," I said, feeling a bit of pride seep through my anxiety. "It's been an incredible journey."

She nodded, then shifted her weight slightly, her eyes gleaming with a different kind of interest. "So, why are you guys dating? You’ve had quite the dating reputation, and you’re only (your/age). Having gone through six boyfriends, it’s probably why we all think Lewis was better off with Nicole, but oh well."

Her words hung in the air, a cruel barb meant to wound. My heart plummeted, and I felt my face flush with a mix of embarrassment and hurt. The cameras were rolling, capturing my every reaction, and I struggled to maintain my composure. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back, trying to stay strong.

Before I could respond, Lewis’s voice cut through the tension. "That's an incredibly disrespectful question," he said, his tone icy. "Y/N is an amazing person and a phenomenal talent. She doesn't deserve to be compared to anyone, especially not in such a hurtful way."

The interviewer looked taken aback, and I noticed other drivers stepping in, voicing their support for me and their disapproval of the interviewer's conduct. Despite the solidarity, I couldn't shake the humiliation.

Later that evening, back at the hotel, I sat on the edge of the bed, replaying the moment over and over in my mind. My confidence, usually unshakeable, felt shattered. The tour had been a grueling endeavor, and this time off was supposed to be a break, a chance to feel normal and loved.

Lewis sat beside me, taking my hand in his. "Y/N, you mean the world to me. That interviewer was out of line, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I only have eyes for you, and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "But what if people agree with her? What if they think I'm not good enough for you?"

Lewis cupped my face gently, his gaze unwavering. "You are more than enough. You're incredible, and anyone who can't see that doesn't matter. I love you, and I want you there with me on Sunday, but only if you feel ready."

Looking into his eyes, I saw the sincerity and love reflected back at me. Slowly, I nodded. "I'll be there."

Race day dawned bright and clear. The stands at Silverstone were filled with roaring fans, the air electric with anticipation. I arrived at the paddock, still feeling a bit nervous but buoyed by Lewis's unwavering support.

As the race began, I watched from the Mercedes garage, my heart racing with every lap. Lewis drove with his usual skill and determination, and as the laps dwindled, he surged ahead, crossing the finish line in first place.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Lewis took the checkered flag. I felt a swell of pride and love, tears streaming down my face. When Lewis climbed out of his car, he immediately sought me out, pulling me into a tight embrace.

"You did it," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.

"We did it," he corrected, kissing my forehead. "Thank you for being here. It means everything to me."

———————

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Vendetta! Leon x a younger reader who dresses up for him? Like just hard porn of reader in a little maid dress for him… and him fucking her so hard while she’s in it.. idk.. man Leon just deserves a pretty partner who dresses up let’s him fuck her whenever or however he pleases…. His little baby… his stress toy.. his whore.. omfg 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

EVERYONE SHUT UP RN I NEED. First request post of the night hehe. It’s NOT proof read so any mistakes just pretend they’re not there ok babies

DISCLAIMER: This blog is strictly 18+! Please do not interact if you are underaged or don’t have age indicators anywhere in your blog! tysm

It’s very short but it’s just a little blurb!! hope you guys don’t mind that ofc i have tons of stuff in my inbox rn </3

afab reader x older! vendetta Leon

Vacation. Leon simply just wanted some time off. He felt so bad that everytime he came home you were so excited to see him, rambling on to him about how you made him dinner, and you folded all his clothes for him. His heart aching as he put his hand up as a signal for you to stop talking as he popped the pain medication in his mouth, washing it down with the lemonade you had made him. His eyebrows frowned as he looked up, noticing how clean the house was, how you even put his jacket up for him as soon as he got home. He felt so guilty, knowing that even on top of doing college, you did all of this for him every single day.

His hand grabbed at the railing of the stairs as he walked up the steps, noticing the light from door shut off. Fuck, you were going to bed. Right when he reached for the door, it swung open.

Knowing Leon had been so stressed, you’ve been doing everything to make him feel better and nothing was working. His tension built up more everyday, even his kisses were rougher. You scrolled online for hours before finally finding it. The perfect little maid outfit you knew would push Leon so blissfully over the edge. Leon’s eyes scanned every inch of your body. The way it was skimpy but not overly skimpy, your thick thighs pressing against each other, the pretty apron resting so beautifully on your waist.

“For me?”

Leon’s words came out so seductively and it shot straight to your core, your shy side drowning you as you nodded your head up to him, your fingers playing with the lace of the outfit. Leon’s head shook as his hands reached out, smoothing over the softness of your chest.

“So pretty.”

He mumbled as he pushed you into the room, almost stumbling but he caught you so fast by the hips. His touch was rough, only to your skin though. He wanted to ruin you, all his anger was now surfacing but to his cock, himself sighing as he licked his lips as he pushed you face down into the bed. Your back arched up into him, your ass pressing so perfectly against his strained cock suffocating in his jeans. You knew him so well, your body pushing back into him, your skirt lifting revealing the plain white panties under, a small wet patch forming on the outside. Leon loved the simple things. His hand stopped your grinding, a yelp leaving your lips as he tore at the panties. He tossed them somewhere but didn’t care knowing he would buy you brand new ones later.

“Wanted you to take your time and enjoy..”

Your pretty glossed lips pouted back at him as he picked you up, throwing you further into the bed. His eyes rolled as his hand reached down, lifting your hips in the air. The sound of his belt unbuckling made your fingers grab at the sheets in excitement, but before you could even look back at him again his cock was so deep in you, your walls struggling to shape around him. A broken cry left your lips as you tried to pull your hips away from him but he grabbed at your waist, pulling you up so your back was flush against his still clothed chest. Your head shook as he began to push in and out of you. No matter how many times Leon fucks you, his cock will always just be to big.

“Leon please- ‘s to much”

You whimpered out as your smaller hands scratched at his arm. He was so big compared to you, it was scary how easily he could overpower you. Leon smirked against the shell of your ear as his hands ran over the lacey material of the dress.

“Cmon’ be a good little girl, let me use my pussy.”

Leon whispered in your ear before his palms pushed you down back onto your stomach, his hands holding at your hips as he drilled into you. The room filled with the sounds of his low growls and groans, and the smacking of his pelvis hitting your ass. His body leaned over yours, kissing the back of your neck as his thrusts went from fast and harsh to slow, and overly deep. With every stroke small whimpers left your lips as he kissed at your shoulders.

“That’s my fucking girl.. Always here for me huh? With this tight little- mm fuck.. so fucking good for me.”

Your whines and moans stopped, making a laugh leave Leon’s throat as his hips stuttered. He reached down pulling your hair away from your face to watch as you chewed at your puffy lower lip, your body already riding through its second orgasm. His grip got tighter on your hips as he plunged himself further into you, a whimpered moan leaving his lips as strings of his cum shot into you, your face twisting in blissful discomfort. Leon sat on his knees, his hand running over the back of your thighs smirking as he watched his cum make its way out of you, his fingers shoving it back into you before he carefully flipped you on your back.

A sigh of content left his lips as he laid his head against your chest, your fingers plunging into his hair as he took in your scent, listening to your heart beat.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You whispered down to him as he shook his head in response.

“Maybe tomorrow angel, let me relax.”

He mumbled, kissing your skin as his eyes closed.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Sorry it took so long. Almost finished, just one more chapter to go.

@a-beaverhausen @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog @yeaiamme2 @nataliewalker93 @luz09

Series Masterlist

Waking up alone was disappointing but Y/n didn’t expect anything else, knowing that if Klaus had stayed until morning he would have been shot God knows how many times.

2 Days. That’s all she needed to wait, just 2 more days and then she could get away from this house, the constant guards, a mom that ignores everything that goes wrong around her and her father. Her father who she had loved and adored more than anyone in the world, her father who had been her hero only to become the man who ignores her existence and shoots her pet.

Just 2 Days…

Klaus knew he needed to tell her the truth. Getting her to leave with him and depend on him needed to happen first, he knew once she loved him that she could accept anything about him.

He also knew that she would willingly turn for him, Y/n was exactly the kind of girl who would want to be with him for eternity, already overly sensitive about the idea of being abandoned. After her father had abandoned her without ever leaving the same house, what else could anyone expect?

He had been working in the time away from Y/n on his Hybrids, having to go back to Mystic Falls to find out Doppleganger blood was what he needed to turn the wolves. Sadly he didn’t get back to Y/n until the third day away and he was worried that she would be upset with him. However, the house was finished thanks to compelled construction workers and interior designers working around the clock, his Hybrids guarded the house as he instructed them to and he was finally able to pick her up.

Sadly though he was not quite as sneaky as he thought approaching the house this time and he ended up snapping one of the guards necks before climbing up to the window. Klaus saw her on her bed drifting off to a movie on the TV and he tapped the glass to see her head pop up and her eyes widen in excitement making her jump up and nearly fall from the bed as she fumbled to yank the window open.

‘You’re late!’ She snapped, though her smiling face pointed to her not being overly upset about it before she pulled him in and hugged him.

‘I’m so sorry Princess, there were complications finishing the house and I wanted it to be perfect. I’m sorry if I made you doubt me-‘

‘No! I didn’t, I promise! Thought…maybe my dad had…I-‘

‘Oh baby. I’m so sorry, come here!’ He hugged her to his chest tightly, kissing her head before the tears could fall. ‘Are you ready to go? I had a complication getting in here so we need to hurry.’ Her head popped up with a startled look before she jumped to grab the large duffel bag under her bed, pulling it out and setting it on the bed before moving to her dresser and grabbing sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt. She changed fast as Klaus opened her bag to inspect it.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ll get you a new laptop, your father can use this to track you, can’t bring it with us.’

‘Oh shit!’ She moved to grab a flash drive from her drawer before plugging it into the laptop and saving several things before deleting a bunch of things. ‘He’ll look through everything like he always does and find my journal. Wish I could see the look on his face when he sees how I really feel about him…both of them.’ There was a smile on her face but Klaus wrapped his arms around her from behind, seeing how sad she really was about it.

‘You’ll never have to listen to anything he says again. You’ll be happy with me, I promise.’ He swore, picking up the bag and moving to the window, watching her pull the sim card from her phone before tossing it onto the bed and following him. Klaus took hold of her and lifted her into his arms before jumping out the window, smiling at her small gasp as he did, quickly moving through the trees to get to the car he had left and setting her into the passenger seat.

‘Where are we going?’ She asked, clearly excited and clutching his hand as he began to drive.

‘We’re going to the airport-‘

‘My father will be able to find us there, he’ll find out where we-‘

‘Impossible. I have a jet fueled up and waiting, only the pilot knows where we’re going. He will not be able to find us, I promise.’ Klaus assured, kissing her hand and holding it firmly, watching as she tried to relax though he knew she wouldn’t until they were on the jet, far away.

He left the rental car with someone at the front before leading her through security quickly, compelling a security guard to fast track them through to get to their flight. ‘It’s so weird not being surrounded by guards in a public place, I feel like I’ve been let out of a bubble for the first time since I can remember and it’s like I can breathe deeper…does that sound stupid?’

‘Of course not Love, you’ve been confined your entire life, it’s normal to feel free now that you’re away from it all.’ He enjoyed watching her look around with a smile on her sweet face.

‘What’s that smell? It’s…sweet. It smells so good!’ She exclaimed, looking around in excitement.

‘The cinnamon buns maybe?’ Klaus said, pointing to the shop. ‘Do you want one?’ She nodded quickly and he led her over to grab a few of them for the flight before taking her to the jet that was waiting on them.

‘Woah…this is bigger than my Dads…I didn’t think that existed.’ The hybrid couldn’t help his chuckle at the clear innuendo that went over her head as she looked around, Klaus buckling her in and making her blush at even the small gesture of care he showed her as the jet took off. He couldn’t help but smile as the tension in her body seemed to completely disappear as they ascended, finally free from her father and his control.

The fact that she was now completely under Klaus’ control was a detail he didn’t think needed mentioning…

Somewhere in the Woods in New York

‘Where Is She?!’ He raged, holding his best friend by the front of his jacket.

‘I don’t know Buck-she must have gone out the window-‘

‘I have guards everywhere! How did she get passed them, Huh?! What do you-‘

‘Hun, whatever Y/n has done isn’t Steve’s fault and you’re going to regret killing him. You love him.’ His wife reminded, gently removing his hands from Steve and pulling Bucky close, feeling all of his muscles tensing at the idea of his baby being missing.

‘Someone has taken her, who should I be killing?!’ He demanded only to be met with a stern look from the mother of his child.

‘I don’t know who you think you’re talking to like that but it isn’t me.’ He sighed, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck. ‘I know you’re worried, I’m worried too but this was inevitable. She did tell you she was going to leave-‘

‘She was being dramatic! She knows I love her, she wouldn’t…someone has taken her, only explanation!’ He insisted, beginning to pace across the floor, waiting for his men to check the security cameras.

Bucky is willing to admit that he isn’t the best father but he loves his daughter more than anything in the world. After all that has happened, all that he’s lost, he couldn’t risk losing her too. And maybe he held on too tight sometimes but he loved his baby more than he had ever loved anything. Every time he looks at her he sees that precious little bundle he was handed by a nurse, he was the first person to ever hold her and he swore to her that he would never let go.

‘Boss…you’re not gonna like this…’ Bucky looked up from where he sat with his wife holding onto him, the only thing keeping him grounded on this planet right now.

‘What is this? Where is this?!’ He demanded as he watched the video on the laptop that Sam handed to him.

‘It’s a camera from one of the back roads to the property. No one but security even knows they exist, we don’t know how anyone got there.’ Sam explained, standing just out of Buckys reach in case he decides to lash out.

‘What is he doing? Is…she’s kissing him…how does she even know him?! She’s always had security, who-‘ Bucky cut himself off as he thought back to Tony’s party the week before. He had seen this man before, he had smiled at him at the party, smirked more like it, and Bucky had wanted to slap that look off of his face…he should have killed him when he had the chance!

‘I’m not surprised.’ Buckys head snapped up to look at his wife who was clearly upset but no where near as physically upset as he was. ‘With how you treat her, smother her? An attractive man came along and promised her the world, of course she ran away with Prince Charming. Especially after what you pulled last week, I told you that dog thing would come back and bite us in the ass.’

‘Seriously?! How are you not upset-‘

‘I’m furious! But I’m also able to see how this came to happen and it is our fault. God knows what he’s promised her, but I’m not shocked she jumped at the first chance to get away from you-‘

‘She knows I love her-‘

‘No James, I don’t think she does.’ Buckys face fell as he heard his wife say this. Every fight they had, every punishment or mean word, he had always comforted himself by remembering that his daughter knows that he loves her and that he would kill or die for her. Now to hear that she might not truly believe that, Bucky swears that he heard his heart crack. ‘When she was young she did but you changed when she got older and I have no idea how she feels about you anymore. She doesn’t talk to me because she knows I will tell you everything. We fucked up, and we have to get her back.’

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[babyhatesreality]

Hey!!! I loved your lates fic here

But I’m not sure how to think about Steve.

Would he still give her time out bc he thinks she is lying about something daddy said when she is telling the truth?

Imagine she gets in a little argument with another little one and the other one is telling her Papa that she said something mean/ a no no word. Would he believe his little one? Bc I don’t think so ☹️

AAAHHHHH I HAVE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD SINCE DAY ONE SO THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO WRITE IT!!! <3

Listen to your Little

Pairing: Daddy! Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, pet names, language, anxiety, mentions of past emotional upheaval, someone tells lies, mistrust, baby gets unfairly punished, mean Papa, mean Daddy, angst, fluffity fluff fluff fluff, everything gets worked out in the end because I always need a happy ending.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

A/N- this takes place about 2 weeks after you've moved in with Stucky, when you're still- unbeknowst to you- in your probationary period with SHIELD.

You were excited- and nervous- but mostly excited! It was your first play date with Wanda and Pietro since moving in with your daddies. You'd all met before of course, at the big welcome-to-the-family party, and gotten along famously. But this was the first time you were going over to Aunt Natasha's and Uncle Bruce's apartment to play. You and Wanda had bonded over your mutual love of Care Bears and My Little Ponies, and you were super excited to see her collection and play ponies again. You were nervous about Pietro, though. He wasn't exactly mean to you, but he didn't like that Wanda paid more attention to you than to him when you both were together. He also didn't like that you and Peter got so close, so quickly.

"C'mon, none of that now," Bucky said gently, pulling your fingers out of your mouth as he bounced you in his arms. The three of you were making your way to the elevator to go to the Banner/Romanoff floor. Bucky had noticed that you were a little hesitant when you'd left the apartment, so he had immediately scooped you up to snuggle you on the way. You had started chewing on your fingers, a sign that he'd only recently learned meant that you were feeling distress. "I don't want you to bite your fingers off. That's MY job," he teased, before pretending to eat your fingers playfully. You squealed and giggled for a moment, but eventually laid your head on his shoulder with a tiny sigh.

"What's the matter, Lovebug?" Steve asked, leaning into your view point and rubbing your back soothingly. "Are you feeling okay?" He looked around as they stepped into the elevator. He knew that SHIELD was watching their every move, and if something was wrong with you, by god he was going to figure it out in a heartbeat. He kept patting you, but you didn't speak until the doors to the elevator had closed.

"What if....what if dey don't like me?" you said, just loud enough for them to hear it.

"Wanda and Pietro?" Steve asked in surprise. "They already like you, angel. Remember how you and Wanda were playing that you were the little ponies just two nights ago?"

"MY little ponies," you corrected, your head popping up to make sure your Papa understood the very important difference in wording. He smiled.

"Sorry, MY little ponies," he said, booping you on the nose. "You two had so much fun that you fell asleep before you could finish telling us all about it, remember?" He and Bucky shared a private smirk; that had been the night they had discovered that letting you tell your own stories at bedtime was a bad idea. You had literally not stopped talking during your bath, pajamas, and being tucked into their bed. They found it so cute that they couldn't bear to stop you, but you'd continued for a good hour past bedtime until your exhausted body overcame your brain and you'd fallen asleep mid-sentence.

That hadn't gone over terribly well with the review board. They understood that Steve and Bucky hadn't wanted to stifle you, but they were concerned that not adhering to a strict schedule, no matter what, might set a bad precedent. From then on, Steve and Bucky had been fastidious about your bedtime routine. They weren't risking anything that could potentially 'set a bad precedent' and get you taken away from them.

You didn't know any of that of course- all you knew was that you were feeing a little anxious about the visit. When you didn't answer Steve right away, he continued trying to help you through this. "Tell you what, Katie Cat," he said, grinning when you smiled softly at the special nickname. "If you feel icky, or if something is bothering you, you can tell me or Daddy, and we'll all come back home. Okay?"

"Don't wanna spoil your fun..." you mumbled into Bucky's shoulder. Bucky and Steve locked eyes for a moment. They had prepared for things like this. In all of the time the three of you had spent together before this, you'd been very honest about your issues with abandonment and self-worth, and how it all tied into your need to regress. You were scared to death to do anything that might make your new and already-beloved daddies mad or upset, no matter how little it seemed.

"Baby, this time is for you, okay?" Steve said reassuringly. "We just want you to have fun with your new little friends. Daddy and I see Aunt Natasha and Uncle Bruce all the time, so if you need to leave, you're not spoiling anything. Everyone will understand, and no one will be mad. Okay?"

"Otay," you whispered back, a shy smile on your face. Bucky pressed a kiss into your hair.

"That's our girl," he said, nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. "Do you want a paci so you don't chew on your fingers again?"

You shook your head. "No, tank you," you said politely, making them both melt. "Gonna be a big girl." You leaned back and looked at Bucky, tilting your head. If you were gonna be a big girl, you really should be walking by yourself...."Big girl later," you decided, then nuzzled back into the safety of Daddy's shoulder, making him chuckle.

**********************************************************************

An hour later, you wondered what on earth you'd been nervous about. Wanda, Pietro, and you were currently playing the most fabulous game of Chutes and Ladders ever. The three of you had started the playdate with exploring their playroom. You were in absolute awe of the colorful and joyous chaos, and they had delighted in showing you everything. Then came the games. You hadn't played such a raucous, noisy version of Chutes and Ladders in so long and it was a blast. You were also apparently really good at it, as you placed your token on the winning block for the second time in a row.

"Wow! You are SO good at this game, Katie!" Wanda cheered, leaning over to give you a high five. "Here, high five Buttons now," she instructed, holding up her favorite teddy. You giggled and gently high fived his paw, making her laugh.

"That's not fair, that you won two games in a row," Pietro interjected suddenly into your joy. You quickly dropped your hand, feeling awkward. Pietro had been fine, if not a little quiet, when you won the first time, but it seemed like two times was his limit. You started feeling that little prickle of anxiety that you had when you were coming here.

"You're just jealous that she won and you LOST," Wanda said, sticking her tongue out. Pietro jumped up, enraged at his sister.

"I'm gonna tell Mommy that you stuck your tongue out!" he announced triumphantly.

"Then I'M gonna tell her that you're being mean to us and you'll get a time out," Wanda shot back, glaring at her brother. Pietro scowled at her, but sat back down.

"We're gonna play again and this time I'M gonna win," he grumbled.

"We don't hafta play dis game," you said hesitantly. "We can play something else. Whachu wanna play?" You bit your lip- you didn't want to lose your new friends on your very first playdate.

"This and I'm gonna win," he declared. You exchanged a quick look with Wanda, who shrugged and put her piece back at the starting block. Not wanting to rock the boat anymore than you accidentally already had, you quietly put your piece back at the beginning too.

You subtly tried to flick the spinner so you'd land on the lower numbers, but Wanda caught on immediately. "No, you gotta do it right. I want you to win again!" she said, making you retake your turn. You sighed and flicked, and of course, landed on a square that gave you a huge ladder up.

"You cheated!" Pietro said, pointing at Wanda after he realized how far ahead this made you in the game. "You made her go again and that's cheating!"

"Nuh-uh!" Wanda said hotly. "You're trying to cheat 'cause you wanna win."

"You're a big ol' dumbbell!" Pietro yelled at her. Your anxiety suddenly turned to anger at his exclamation. You knew that name calling was absolutely not allowed from any of you. On top of that, Pietro was just being mean. No one messed with your friends!

"Please stop being mean," you said, pushing yourself up to stand on your knees. You weren't quite brave enough to stand all the way up, but you definitely couldn't stay seated when your friend was being called names. Pietro's eyes narrowed at you menacingly.

"What did you say?" he said, almost daring you to say it again.

"I said please stop being mean!" you said, louder than you intended. Before you could even take a breath, Pietro zoomed out of the room. You looked at Wanda, startled. "Wha' happened?" you asked nervously. You knew that the twins weren't supposed to use their powers when they weren't on missions, so something bad obviously just happened for him to break the rules like that.

Just then, you heard loud steps pounding down the hallway. "Kaitlyn!" Papa scolded loudly as he came around the corner and into the room. You hadn't heard that tone from him before. You sat back down in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. What did you do for him to use your full name like that? "Pietro said that you were calling him names," he accused you, his hands on his hips and fire in his eyes.

"Wh-wha'? No, I didn't," you stammered, your mind spinning as you tried to figure out what was happening.

"No, Uncle Steve, she-" Wanda piped up. But Steve held up a hand to her.

"Not now, sweetie," he said, his tone just a touch softer, before he turned his glare back to you. You felt yourself shrinking down, feeling even littler than normal. "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" Steve scolded, his blue eyes narrowing at you.

"Papa, I didn' say nuffin' bad-"

"You know better than to call names, little girl," he said, almost as if you hadn't spoken. "There is no excuse for that kind of behavior. You don't treat your friends like that, and you don't call names, EVER."

"But-"

"But nothing. Come here, right now," he said, pointing to his feet. Scared to death, you shut your mouth and scrambled to get up and stand at his feet. "You're getting a time out," Steve said angrily, putting his hand on your back and ushering you out of the playroom.

You desperately wanted a chance to defend yourself, to ask why Papa believed that you would be so naughty. You looked up at him and inhaled as if to speak, but he immediately pointed a finger in your face. "Hush," he scolded. "Not one word." You obediently shut your mouth and tried to keep the tears from falling.

Steve led you to an empty corner in the dining room where he, Bucky, and Natasha had been sitting and chatting. Natasha and Bucky were nowhere to be seen, though. Steve made sure your nose was firmly in the corner before sitting down in the chair closest to you. "Now you think about what you've done, and when your time out it over, you're going to apologize to Pietro." It took everything within you not to make a sound or turn around at this injustice, but the fear of making Papa even angrier kept you in your place. You knew that you were not to move or make a sound in time out unless you wanted a longer one, so you kept yourself still.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching. "Oh no," Bucky said when he saw you. "What did she do?" he asked Steve. You could hear the touch of steel in his tone, making you even more frightened.

"She called Pietro a name while they were playing their game," Steve responded, his own voice still tight with anger. "I let her know that is completely unacceptable, and she'll be apologizing when it's all over."

"Name calling?" Bucky said incredulously. He knew you had a mischievous streak a mile wide, but you had never been anything other than sweet and playful. He would never have thought you capable of that in a million years. His mind was blown at his sweet little angel being that mean.

"Apparently, they were playing a game, and when Pietro said something about wanting to win this round, she called him a 'dumb meanie-head'."

"What?!" Bucky yelled as you trembled in the corner. "Oh, she's writing lines tonight too. We are NOT letting her get away with this kind of behavior." Your insides quaked- now they were both against you and you hadn't even done anything.

"Hang on," Aunt Natasha said suddenly. "What exactly did Pietro say?" she questioned her oldest friend.

"He sped in here very upset-"

"He used his powers?"

"Yes. I don't think he meant to be bad, he was just worked up," Steve explained. You tensed up in the corner at Papa making excuses for Pietro, but still not defending you. Unbeknownst to you, Natasha noticed.

"Hmmm," she said, pressing her lips together as she thought. "Just out of curiosity, did Wanda say anything?" You couldn't see it from your viewpoint of the two walls, but the rest of the room saw Steve blush, slightly.

"Well, she tried to say something, but I...didn't let her," he said, a tad bit sheepishly. "I didn't want her to try to lie to get Katie out of trouble. We...can't take any chances right now. We need to make sure that we're...providing a healthy environment with boundaries and rules. We're not taking any chances. Not with our little girl."

Natasha knew exactly what Steve meant and that his heart was in the right place, but she also realized that you didn't fully understand all the larger implications at play here. And she knew her twins well enough to know that there was probably a lot more to the story.

"I hear you," Natasha said. "And I understand. But...just indulge me for a moment." She waited to get the nod from both Steve and Bucky before calling down the hallway. "Wanda? Pietro? Come into the dining room, please."

You tried your hardest not to fidget, but this was the worst. Your new friend and your now-mortal enemy were going to see you in trouble, and that was so embarrassing you started to silently cry again, biting down on your lip to not make a sound. You heard two pairs of feet shuffle in, but then the silence was shattered by your defender.

"No, that's not fair!" Wanda shrieked, pointing at you still stuck in the corner. "Katie didn't even do anything!!" At that, the room exploded into accusations and soothing words and frustration and anxiety, until finally Natasha made herself heard over everyone.

"Alright, ALRIGHT!" she shouted everyone down. "Wanda, tell me what happened." Pietro made a sound of indignation, but was quickly silenced. "You'll get your chance, Pietro. But Wanda is going first."

Much to your relief, Wanda quickly told the story of what actually happened, emphasizing that you had NOT called Pietro a name- you'd simply said that he was being mean. "Which he WAS," she finished sulkily, glaring at him.

A horrible, sinking feeling was settling into the pit of Steve's stomach. "Pietro, you told me that she called you a dumb meanie-head," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking at the amount of damage he might have just done.

"It's what she MEANT," Pietro replied hotly after stammering for a moment, caught in his lie.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Wanda shrieked, outraged on your behalf. Pietro immediately started yelling back. Natasha quickly broke the argument up as Steve and Bucky both spun towards you.

"Oh my god, angel, I am so sorry," Steve said, his eyes brimming with tears. When you didn't make a move, his heart stopped for a second before he realized- he hadn't given you permission to leave the corner yet. You were being his good little girl, as always. "Lovebug, please come out of the corner. You should never have been in there and Papa is so very sorry."

You turned to him but couldn't look him in the eye. You didn't want him to see the tears that were still streaming down your face. But there was no way that he could have missed them. In an instant, he was crushing you to his chest, dropping kiss after kiss on top of your head in between apology after apology. "I am so sorry I didn't give you a chance to tell your side of the story, baby. Papa was very, very naughty today."

Bucky reached out and rubbed the parts of your back that he could touch, as you were still firmly held in Steve's arms. "And I'm sorry too, that I just jumped to conclusions," Bucky apologized as well. As someone who'd lost his own voice for years, he felt doubly guilty at taking away yours. "I will never do that again baby, I promise. Okay?" He moved in a little closer, exchanging a worried look with Steve when you didn't answer. "Angel?" he said softly. "Can you talk to me and Papa please?"

You finally turned your tear-stained face up to Steve. "I wann'ed to be a good girl today," you finally sobbed out. "Was I bad?" You were still too little to fully understand everything that had happened, but you were feeling some awful big feels.

"No Angel, you weren't bad at all," Steve said, feeling lower than shit. "You were very good to try to stand up for your friend, and I'm very very sorry that I didn't listen when you tried to tell me what happened. You are my good baby and you always will be." Steve expected you to yank yourself out of his arms and his life forever for his colossal fuck up, but the exact opposite happened instead.

You threw your arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as you could. You were so relieved that you hadn't been bad, and that things seemed to be getting back to normal, that all you could do was hold on to your Papa for dear life.

Natasha had let Pietro have his say while you and your daddies had been making up, but once he realized he was caught, he begrudgingly admitted that he had lied. He said that he'd been mad that he hadn't won and waited until Natasha wasn't near Uncle Steve to tattle. Natasha sent Pietro to his room promptly with the promise of a "long talk tonight with me and Daddy". She let Wanda worm her way into Steve's arms to hug you too. Wanda declared you the forever winner of Chutes and Ladders.

Steve and Bucky were both looking at Natasha, panic screaming in their eyes. What on earth was the board going to do with this? Would this be enough for them to take you away from them? However, Natasha smiled. "I got this," she said lovingly to her friends. She knew exactly how to manage this one with that damn board....

Later that night, Steve and Bucky each presented you with a piece of paper, in which they both had written "I will listen to my little girl" one hundred times each. Steve did two hundred, out of sheer guilt for putting you in time out on top of everything else. Your giggle at their self-induced punishments and the subsequent snuggle session started to make everything look a lot brighter.

The next morning, you were back to your normal happy-go-lucky self, thrilled with being babysat by Kate for the day. You had given your daddies big hugs and kisses before they left, promising to be good. Steve and Bucky, still feeling the residual pangs of guilt, made their way to their only meeting of the day, but one that they were very much ready for.

Natasha smiled as they closed the conference room door behind them. "Welcome gentlemen," she said, slightly teasing as they both took their seats sheepishly. "Welcome to 'Listening to your Little, 101'."

[miidnighters]

It's my birthday ! To celebrate, I wanted to put together a little shout out of people I love because it's the most surefire way to get compliments back in return (I'm kidding!). Thankyou so much for writing with me and mashing our barbies together and making this hellsite such a fun place to be.

Also, seeing how this has changed from my last shoutout at Christmastime - notably, the people I tagged as "people I love who I don't write with very much" but who now I write with or talk to every day lmao.

Please let this have tagged everyone I wanted to tag

@92328

I love u so much. U know I do. I love all the random questions u ask and ur request for Isaac Facts and the fact that you refer to Morgan as "Nora's Husband" and the way you wanna lock Flynn up in a tower to keep him a baby forever. Never change lmao.

@bloodykneestm

Bender ur characters are chefs kiss and our dynamics are chefs kiss and I get such a huge smile whenever I see u in my notifs (either here or on disco). I love the things we come up with together.

@cigarettesandcoffee

My darling! I know you're not writing a lot atm but it makes my day whenever we chat and whenever you pop up with some random love. All of our pairings are so good and I can't wait to see what we cook up for the others.

@draconisa

I know you're ALSO not writing a lot atm but Dany and Isaac have my whole heart plus everything that we're doing on the multi for everyone there like. My brain is still stuck on Harts and Vasile like. Does it get any better?

@epistrefei

HELLO. ARTEMIS. WOW. I am so in awe of the original spin you're able to put on such a well-known character - and it's not just Artemis and Billie, it's Barty and Flynn, and watching what you do with Zahrosa and so many others.

@exquisitexagony

Sami is my baby. The relationship they have with Flynn and Bella (or Bella and Arthur) and all the others is so special to me, as well as everything we have going on your other blogs (Callie and Shimi, for example? Yes).

@fangmother

Rainer is who I want to be when I grow up. If I could be half as confident and gave less fucks. I love seeing all the wild shit she gets up to and following her different relationships with people who have been in her life for varying lengths of time.

@freekzout

What can I say about the freekz? Callie and Funke's relationship is so special to me BUT also the friendships we've built? Lu and Ruth? Flynn and Ruth? Bella and the both of them? Not to mention your other blogs - Bella and Connie in particular.

@inrovina

Every relationship my characters have with Xeno is SO special. Flynn and Lake are SO special. I'm so excited for what other shenanigans they get up to and all the potential new stuff we're doing on your multi !

@kurjaks

I need to put this man in an enclosure and study him. I love him so much, and I love the careful way you've crafted him, and the truly unique way he carries and conducts himself. PLUS the way we chat ooc? Peak.

@mystiika

Every one of your muses is a darling to me. We've started creating such interesting relationships between a few of our muses in varying stages of romance or friendship and I cannot wait to do more with you.

@recitedemise

Every time I see you in my notifs I know I am getting fed the Good Shit. You have such a way with words and what we've crafted between Gale and Callie is really something special to me. Plus to varying relationships w Harts and Bella? Yes.

@sorrowsick

There is no muse of yours that I don't love down bad. We have some truly batshit stuff going on and I know that I can always come to you with the wildest ideas and we can make it work. I am truly your biggest fan.

@soulmissed

August is the only child character I write with and I think that says something bc it's hard to write a child without them being too much of a caricature and it's hard to build relationships without them being one-note but you so it SO well, so we have such beautiful ties.

@starlyht

One of the true lights of my life I adore seeing u on my dash and in my notifs. We have some great ties between our characters and I truly love seeing your thoughts on lycanthropy or drow society or whatever takes your fancy.

@stcllata

I love that every pairing we toss together just seems to Work lmao. Whatever the situation, whoever the muse, we can always put them together and come out with something good. And by good I often mean shippy but like. Who's gonna tell us no?

@tewwor

I am so in awe of your mind and your worldbuilding, and I am so lucky to be able to play in these spaces you've built. I love the relationships we've built and I love that we can throw different characters together to see what sticks.

@vitalphenomena

I say this with the UTMOST affection but this is the most messed up roster of characters I've ever seen and I adore writing with them. I adore exploring all the different facets of their characters and how my characters interact with their struggles bc they're NOT perfect.

@whileurmine

If I see a man over 30 on my dash, odds are it's you. I love your roster and I love our OOC hate sessions and I love that we can both puck up and put down starters like nothing. Whether it's something established or a new idea we can always put a pair together.

@yxkanna

I know you're ALSO not writing atm but I have to let you know how much I love you and your babies. Not just Nick but all of them. We have some really interesting dynamics both platinic and romantic and I can't wait until you're back to pick them up.

And then of course some other shoutouts of people I don't love any less but perhaps don't write with or talk to as often <3 (which should change, honestly. Come yap w me <3)

@abysswarden | @berylcluster | @bucketkicked | @byanyan

@coastercrushed | @corsey | @cragsnow | @demonstigma

@downspirals | @fvzzyelf | @godstrayed | @hegrudges

@idnull | @kxllerblond | @lcngdays | @nabaidhean-neonach

@platiinums | @pohlepen | @redemnation | @strszyga

@withbeasts | @xinxiins

[eddiexmunsonlover]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 7)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: You spend some much needed one-on-one time with Max, and celebrate Halloween with the Party. WC: 5.8k Warnings: MDNI as always. Explicit language. Talks about death, grief, trauma, depression, guilt, all the fun stuff. Brief run in with Jason and his lackies. Total idiots in love, mutual pining fest in here. We're helping Max heal this chapter <3 Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, life has been lifing but I hope y'all enjoy it! I had fun writing this one. Taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers

Friday, October 25th, 1985

The cool October night breeze caresses your skin as you step out the doors of Hawkins High, the excited chatter of the club members following behind you. When you hear quick steps approaching behind you, you turn to see Eddie fall in step next to you.

“So remind me again why you’re bailing on me for our only just recently reinstated Friday movie nights?” he questions, feigning offense. You scoff out a small laugh as you dig for your keys in your bag, approaching your truck parked next to his van.

“Because I already told you, I’m taking Max out to the drive-in.”

“Oh yeah, what movie are you gonna see?”

“They’re playing Silver Bullet tonight.”

“Oh man. Yeah, I’ve heard about that one. Looks really good, I’ve been really wanting to see it.” He leans against his van, putting on the dramatics and fake disappointment that you see right through, unable to stop the big smile from creeping onto your face as you watch his little show. 

“Oh is that so?” you tease, popping out your hip as you cross your arms, amusement written across your face.

“Come on. What, you think I’m gonna dampen your girl party?” 

You roll your eyes.

“Under any other circumstances, I’d insist you join along. But Max… she’s already been isolating herself enough as it is, anyone else being there would just close her walls right back up, you know? And I’m trying to bring those walls down so…” 

“Yeah, I get it. I’m only teasing. I hope you guys have a good time. Tell me if the movie's any good, yeah?” He offers you a soft smile, a smile you return that quickly turns into a smirk as you watch the younger boys approaching.

“Uh huh, you too” you respond, gesturing with your eyebrows as you unlock the door to your truck.

Eddie’s eyes follow yours behind him, shoulder’s quickly slumping at the sight and question he already knows is coming.

“Hey uh, you mind giving us a ride home?” you overhear Dustin ask as you start your engine, quickly leaving Eddie to fulfill the drop offs you’ve done countless times since the beginning of the semester.

You turn the knob on your radio through the channels of static till the sound of the opening credits come through your speakers. With a bag of popcorn and slushies set between you, you and Max settle against your clothed truck seats, focusing on the huge screen set out 100 feet away in the big field now filled to the brim with cars full of other teenagers seeking a scary late night flick. 

You let yourselves get pulled into the film, mindlessly funneling popcorn into your mouths between sips of cherry Icees. You find yourself wondering how to spark a deeper conversation with Max. As much as you don’t want to force her to open up, with each week that passes you’ve only grown more worried and concerned for her.

You’ve spent some brief time together since you moved back, giving her a ride here and there given her mom is always working, but this is the first extended time you’ve been able to spend together. As you’re lost in thought, the sound of her throat clearing from the seat next to you grabs your attention.

“Hey, I-uh, just want to say thanks. For bringing me. This is the first time I’ve gone out and done anything in a while, so…” She mutters almost shyly, hesitantly. You offer her a genuine smile that relaxes the tension in her body.

“Anytime, I’m glad you could join me. I’ve missed this, you know, our girl time.” You offer, pulling a smirk and eye roll from her. As your eyes move back to the movie, hers drift to examine your Hellfire shirt.

“Since when are you in Hellfire?” she asks curiously.

“Oh, well since last Friday. Once me and Eddie made up I decided to join.” You answer, shrugging nonchalantly as you look down and admire your new Hellfire shirt Eddie rushed to get made for you.

“Made up?” She prods with an eyebrow cocked.

“It’s a long story.” You answer dismissively as you shake your head, assuming she wouldn’t be interested.

“Oh, so you got to hear all the gossip about my relationship back in the summer but I don’t get to hear about yours?”

Your eyes widen as you look at her with a smirk, caught off-guard by the witty remark you always knew her for but haven’t seen much of in the last few weeks. 

“Eddie and I aren’t in a relationship. We’re just friends, Max.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious!”

“Well, I still wanna know the juicy details of the ‘making up’ you two did.” She insists, crossing her arms across her chest as she settles further into the passenger seat of your truck. 

You scoff out a mix between a laugh and a groan before letting your eyes survey her again.

“There’s no ‘juicy’ details, not that I’d tell you if there was anyway.” You emphasize before continuing, “We just have always been best friends, ever since I first moved to Hawkins. We got close pretty quickly. But then I moved back to Virginia and…”

“And?”

“I um, I stopped talking to him. Stopped returning his calls.” You answer with a sigh, meeting her blue eyes as they begin to reflect a knowing feeling.

“Why?”

“It was just too painful to deal with, to hear his voice, to be reminded of the loss that came with the move. It’s like, being so overcome with that pain that you just avoid everyone, let alone that person that it’s attached to. Sometimes it just feels easier to be alone in your pain.” You end with a shrug despite knowing how true some of that may ring for her too.

She pulls her eyes from you to the sweating cup of slushie in her hands as she nods briefly.

“Yeah, I get that.” Is all she offers in the moment. You let a few seconds pass by before you continue.

“I mean I ended up regretting it but, it was just too easy to get stuck in the pain and then the anxiety, you know. I never spoke to him again till I just moved back. We had some brief hurdles to overcome but, we talked things out and we’ve been able to start our friendship again.”

She nods again, briefly lifting her eyes to meet yours again with a forced smile before turning her gaze to the movie.

“I’m glad you guys worked things out.”

“Yeah, me too.” you mutter softly as you turn your own gaze back to the movie.

Part of you is hoping this is a small step in the right direction. Hoping that Max takes the fact that you can somewhat understand how she’s feeling, what she’s going through as a sign you’re a safe space for her. Someone she can open up to and who will actually understand. 

Opening up about your own experience with Eddie, and your struggle with depression and isolation is your first step, initiating the bigger conversation with Max in a way. So you leave it at that, leaving it to her to decide what she wants to do with it as you attempt to get yourself back into the film you can tell you’ve already lost key information in due to your conversation.

The drive back to Forest Hills is silent besides the sound of the breeze blowing through the cracked windows and your joined hums along to the Kate Bush Hounds of Love cassette playing through the speakers. You pull into your driveway close to 11pm, turning to Max with an almost shy smile as you shift into park. 

“Did you have a good time?” You ask with a hint of nervousness as you search her face and body language. She leans forward in the seat, nodding her head gently.

“Yeah, thanks again.” She reassures you. You remove your keys from the ignition, but stop yourself from opening your door and getting out when you notice her hand hesitating on the door handle.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, voice soft. Her body leans back slightly, but her eyes still refuse to lift from the floor of your truck to your eyes.

“What you told me earlier about you and Eddie. I just- I know how you felt.”

“I know, sweetie.” You reply with a sigh, leaning back into your own seat. When her eyes look up to meet yours, you elaborate. “That’s why I told you. So you’d know I understand. I won’t lie and say I completely know everything you’re probably going through, but I do know some of it and... I just hope you know I’m always here, no judgment.”

She takes your words in and lets them settle, staring down at her fidgeting hands as she musters together the courage to let you in, like she had so easily before all summer. But this is different.

“I just… I feel so guilty. I can’t escape that night, that image of Billy, even in my dreams. He-He sacrificed himself for me and I just…watched.” You listen to her intently, giving her the space to say all she wants before you speak up.

“I understand why you feel that way. I still get flashbacks and nightmares of that night sometimes too.”

“You do?” 

���Of course. Living through something like that, it’s gonna stick with us. And that guilt part? That’s normal too, there's even a name for it. Survivor’s guilt. You blame yourself for what happened, maybe you even wish it happened to you instead. But you are not to blame, Max. None of that was your fault.”

“Still, I just stood there and watched, I was frozen. Maybe I could have done something, maybe I could have helped.” She stutters out, pain and frustration sketched across her face. Your heart breaks at the sight, at seeing her carry all the responsibility for what happened on her shoulders, weighing her down for months.

“I hear you. I know it’s frustrating, eating you up. You’re mad at yourself, wishing you could change what happened. Have you ever heard of fight or flight?” When she nods, you keep going. “Well, that’s not all there is to it. Freezing is also a very normal reaction to something traumatic. You didn’t have a choice, your nervous system decided for you.”

She looks at you, wiping a tear as it falls from her eyes.

“Really? You're not just making that up to make me feel better, right?”

You shake your head in reassurance, both taking a deep breath against heavy chests with the weight of the pain.

“I was there with you too, Max. It all happened so fast, even if we hadn’t frozen… there’s nothing we could have done.” 

Flashbacks hit you as you speak, seeing Billy get trapped under falling pillars and rubble from the mall fire, and his instant death from the crushing weight. Rubble that would’ve fallen on Max. 

She reluctantly shakes her head in agreement as you finish, the same memories flashing through her mind, knowing you’re right. Beginning to let herself believe it. Letting you chip away at the weight she’s been carrying, letting herself feel the small relief that comes with it.

“I know you’re right. It’s been hard to try to convince myself of it but… hearing it from you too. It helps. That’s not all of it though… I think about how much I hated him, all the thoughts I had about him. I’d lay in bed at night and wish something bad would happen to him.” She whispers, shame bleeding through her words.

“Max” you breathe out in empathy at her confession, reaching out to grab and squeeze her hand, pulling her attention back to you. “Wanting someone who did nothing but torment you out of your life does not make you a bad person, and it doesn’t make you responsible for what happened to him, either. Billy was not a good person, but everyday I am so grateful he had enough good left in him to save you. Because you are good and you deserve to forgive yourself, hun.”

You pour your heart into every word, staring intently into her blue eyes as tears now freely stream from them and fill your own waterline. You see her breath stuttering in her chest before she throws her arms around you, both quickly closing the space between as you embrace each other.

“You are so loved, Max Mayfield. Don’t you ever forget that.” You mutter out the words you know she needs to hear. You know the dark place the guilt, shame, and trauma have taken her too well. You hold her for a minute until you feel her arms begin to slip from you. As she comes back into your vision, an idea hits you.

“I know something else that might help. Why don’t you write him a letter?” She looks at you in slight confusion, so you push further. “I’m serious! Write him a letter with everything you want to say to him, what you’ve been holding in. Go to his grave and read it out loud like you're actually saying it to him, let it all out. And then, burn it, bury it, I don’t care. As long as you get rid of it in some way. Say what you want to say to him, and then let it go.”

She considers your words for a moment before she nods.

“Yeah, that actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“I’ll even take you, I’ll stay in the truck the whole time too. You just let me know, okay?” You offer, voice soaked in sincerity.

She’s quiet sitting there, lost in thought as she fidgets with her zipper. After a moment, you hear her voice quietly croak out.

“I wish you were my sister.”

It’s a whisper, a nervous confession you could’ve easily missed had all of your attention not already been on her. You greet her with a smile as she chances a look from her hands to your face, wiping the fallen tears on her cheeks with her jacket sleeves.

“We may not be blood, but I’ll be your older sister for as long as you’ll have me.”

When she returns your small smile, you raise your hand in front of you, pinky finger extended. A short giggle at the lighthearted childishness of it escapes her mouth before she wraps her pinky around yours. 

Soft smiles, dried tear stains, and a promise to always be there for her.

Thursday, October 31st, 1985

Halloween Night

You examine yourself in your vanity mirror, fluffing your hair you spent nearly an hour on to make sure it’s perfect. Purple eyeshadow matching your purple dress, sharp winged eyeliner. You smile at yourself, hands following the way your dress accentuates your wide hips before flowing out around your thick thighs. Looking down at your high heels, you wish you’d picked a different character to dress up as, already foreseeing the pain your feet would be in at the end of the night.

With a sigh, one final look over in the mirror, and the clock nearing the time of the scheduled meet-up with your friends, you turn off your lights and close your bedroom door.

“Don’t you look cute!” your mother exclaims as you enter the living room, hands covering her cheeks as she gushes over you. You bashfully roll your eyes but share a big smile with her.

“You like it? It looks good?” You ask with your arms spread out, giving a little twirl.

“You look beautiful, honey. I wish you’d dress like this more often!” You stop yourself from giving a less than bashful eye roll this time, but can’t deny that you feel and look good in this dress. 

“Don’t stay out too late, it’s still a school night!” She gives you a kiss on the cheek as you part, you give her the reassurance you’ll be back before 11 as you head out the front door. 

The sound of your heels clapping against the cement fills the silence of the neighborhood as you begin crossing the road toward Eddie’s trailer. Your head shoots up when you hear a low whistle, eyes landing on Eddie as he sits on his porch steps with a smug grin on his face.

“My, my, my. Look at you.” he mutters, observing you as you approach. The darkness of the night casting a shadow over him to hide the way his eyes rake over your exposed thighs, dress swishing against them with each step. He hasn’t seen you in a dress since you were kids and your mom had more control over your outfit choices. Seeing you now, he thinks it’s one thing he might take your mom’s side on, you need to add more dresses to your wardrobe.

“Yeah, yeah. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“You know what, I think that’s a fantastic idea. Bring a camera?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, slapping him on the shoulder as you stand beside him.

“What?! You look nice. I can’t tell my best friend she looks nice?”

“Whatever you say, Munson. Besides, you know your pants are supposed to be khaki right? Or atleast brown!” You tease as you pull at a loose string around the knee of his ripped black jeans.

“Hey, at least I got the shirt right.” He retorts as he points at his green shirt, literally the only item of clothing he's sporting to mimic his character. 

Both your heads turn at the sound of feet approaching. You smile at the sight of your red-headed younger friend. Ever since that night at the drive-in, that Sunday when you gave her a ride to Billy’s grave, she’s slowly started coming back around the party again, beginning to let everyone back in and you couldn’t be happier. You wrap your arms around her for a quick hug as she joins you and Eddie.

“I’m so happy you came!” you beam, pulling a laugh from her as you move your bodies side to side in the embrace.

“You look good.” She remarks with a quirked eyebrow as you part.

“Thanks, Red.” 

Eddie stands up from the porch steps during your greeting.

“Nice to officially meet you, Mad Max. Who are you supposed to be anyway?” He asks, both of you examining her outfit.

“Dr. Sarah Bowman from Day of the Dead. Already had everything I needed for it in my closet.” She answers with a shrug, gaining a nod of approval from both of you.

“Well, we ready to get this party started?” He asks, dangling the keys to his van from his fingers. 

With that, the three of you load into Eddie’s van and head to pick up the boys before going to the final meeting place of Steve’s house. Steve ensuring all of you his neighborhood is the best trick or treating spot in town. Full of well-off families who give out full-sized candy bars.

When you pull up to the end of Mike’s driveway to pick up the three boys, your eyes widen and mouth drops open in disbelief at the sight of Dustin. While Mike dressed up as the Hulk, Lucas as Indiana Jones, you can't believe your eyes when you see Dustin clad with dog ears, a tail, and collar.

“No fucking way.” you laugh out in disbelief.

“What? You can’t have the gang without Scooby!”

You and Eddie try to bite back your chuckles, shaking your heads at the sight.

“Oh, I can’t wait till Steve sees this.”

“Just get in the van.” Eddie finally gets out between bits of laughter, cheeks turning red.

“See? We’ve even got the Mystery Machine van too, only thing missing was me.”

When Eddie and you share a glance, it only sends you into another bout of laughter as he shifts into drive, rolling out of the neighborhood toward Steve’s.

When Steve’s door opens to reveal him in full Fred get-up, with Robin next to him as Velma you smile brightly, the costumes suiting them both so well.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me” Steve exhales at the sight of Dustin who only greets him with his ‘pearly whites’.

“I had nothing to do with this” you claim defensively, hands up as you approach Steve and Robin, the latter’s face adorned with a shit-eating grin. When Steve sees it, the hands go on the hips.

“Rob- Seriously?”

“What? What are we just gonna have Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma and no Scooby?”

“That’s what I said!” Dustin interjects in agreement.

“I can’t believe this” he mutters.

“I have to admit, you showed some great ingenuity with the costume, though.” Eddie adds amid Steve’s groans. When his eyebrows shoot up in response, looking at Eddie in disbelief, he retorts. “What? The kid’s creative, what can I say?”

“Thank you” Dustin finishes with a smug smile.

“We all look great, okay? Now, we gonna take these rich folks for all they’ve got or what?” You press, pushing everyone to begin the trek down the streets of Steve’s neighborhood, younger kids taking the lead.

Only a few houses in, the streets are littered with kids and teens in costumes. You talk amongst yourselves, commenting on your favorites and the craftiness of a few of the ones you see.

You’re filled with warmth watching the younger teens walking ahead, watching Max let herself come back out of her shell. You don’t miss the shy glances shared between her and Lucas either, smiling at the sight. While Eddie and Robin are deep in conversation about band, Steve falls in step next to you, sharing your gaze ahead.

“That’s cute” he remarks watching the two. “How did you manage that?”

“I don’t know, just told her what she needed to hear I guess.”

He peeks a glance toward Robin and Eddie before leaning closer to you.

“So, when are you and Eddie finally gonna get your head out of your asses and get together?”

You stagger in your step, taken aback as you look at him like he just spawned a second head.

“What?” Is all you can scoff out.

“Oh come on.” he remarks, hands in his pockets as he saunters down the sidewalk before he leans closer once again, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the warmth filling your cheeks and smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

“Is it that obvious?” you whisper worriedly.

You two stop at the end of a walkway to a house as the rest of the group goes to the front door.

“Well to me and Robin, yeah. But obviously not to him.” 

You watch as they begin their walk back towards you, admiring the smile on Eddie’s face while amongst conversation with the kids. 

“He doesn’t see me like that. I’m just his best friend.” You decide with a sigh, slightly shaking your head before looking back up to Steve who’s observing you with a sympathetic smile.

“Are you kidding? He’d be crazy not to, you’re a total catch.” he says, playfully bumping your hip with his. 

“Thanks, Stevie.”

Eddie’s smile falters slightly as they approach, catching sight of you and Steve standing there staring and smiling at each other. Being dressed as Fred and Daphne, a couple, doesn’t help either. He doesn’t believe you’d have any reason to lie to him that you don’t like Steve as more than a friend, but as he eyes the way Steve smiles at you, the ping of jealousy in his chest tells him he’s not too sure Steve’s on the same page. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, maybe it’s the way Steve’s playful with you like he is, and Eddie knows the deeper feelings that underlie his own teasing nature with you.

When your breath-taking smile turns to him, those thoughts falter slightly and he can’t help but flash his dimples right back at you.

“You know you’re sharing some of that loot with me, right?” You ask him, bumping his shoulder as he falls in step next to you as you continue your walk through the neighborhood.

“Psh, I’ve worked hard for this. Should’ve brought your own pillowcase and ring some doorbells if you wanted some candy.” He smirks at you, dark eyes glimmering in the night.

“Uh huh, you’re all talk, Munson. We both know by the end of the night half that bag is coming home with me.”

“Hmph, well I suggest you start putting in the work if you want some of this sugar.” 

The thoughts that immediately run through your head from his teasing remark make your cheeks flush and send a jolt right to your core. You squeeze your thighs together as you walk, attempting to push the sensation away. Thoughts and feelings like this about Eddie are reserved for late nights in your room. As much as you tell yourself it’s wrong, it’s getting harder and harder to resist. The way he teases you doesn’t help either.

The slowly intensifying, pounding pain and soreness from your feet in the cramped purple high heels is a welcomed distracting sensation. You groan softly to yourself as you look around and realize you’re only halfway through Steve’s neighborhood. A glance toward Robin’s red sneakers solidifies your decision that you should’ve followed her steps, switching out the character’s heels for much comfier shoes. 

You look around your group of friends and decide to say fuck it and suck it up. It’s your favorite holiday and you’re with your favorite people, you’re gonna enjoy it despite the pain in your feet and unwelcomed bodily sensations Eddie’s words and looks are striking into you.

As you continue through Steve’s neighborhood, joining in the trick or treating activities despite the few sideways glances from homeowners you earn as teenagers asking for candy, you’re reminded of all the things that make Halloween your favorite.

The cool autumn air.

The changing colors of the leaves that have begun to adorn the streets and sidewalks.

The costumes; from scary to funny, store bought to homemade.

The decorations; glowing orange pumpkins with an array of designs carved into them, orange and purple lights hung along the porches, scarecrows and ghosts littered amongst the lawns.

The slasher films waiting to be watched at home while eating the mountain of candy earned from knocking on your neighbors doors.

The way Dustin takes every chance he can get to say “Ruh roh Raggy”, and the way you and Eddie can’t stop yourselves from giggling every single time. 

You breathe it all in, grounding yourself in this shared moment with your friends you’ll never forget, a permanent smile settling in on your face for the night.

A smile that not even Jason and his idiot friends can stop from creasing your round cheeks. You’re so consumed living in the moment that you don’t even notice them until you hear a loud

“Hey!” Both you and Eddie’s heads turn and spot them across the street, but refuse to let your strides falter.

“Look guys, it’s the Freaks Inc. gang!” he booms, buddies bending over in laughter as they watch your group.

“Pfft, what a tool.” Steve remarks with a scoff, shaking his head as he fixes his gaze away from them and forward, unbothered. Grateful to no longer be grouped with people like him.

When you feel yourself begin to bump into the younger boys whose steps have staggered and attention drawn to the insult, you gently nudge them forward. Muttering a “Keep going, I’ve got this.”

You should just ignore them, not even give them the slither of attention or acknowledgement they’re so desperate for, but you just can’t help yourself. Not when an opportunity arises to burst their egotistical bubble. 

Ever since you and Eddie’s altercation with Jason a month ago, him and his friends have generally left the club alone, not directly confronting any of you. Traded insults with his friends when any of you would walk by, sure, but to be fair the threat you gave him only pertained to if he ever put his hands on any of you again. Anything else is fair game, and it’s a game you have no problem playing. 

You quickly eye him and his costume. He-Man. It’s a nice costume too, nearly identical to the show. Easy when you have Daddy’s money to pay for it. 

“Nice He-Man costume, Jason. Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble filling it out though, huh? Tsk, what a shame.” you say sarcastically, feigning a pouty face with a shrug before your smile returns, rolling your eyes at them as you draw your attention back to your friends. Continuing your walk down the street unphased.

You see Eddie staring at you from the corner of your eye. When you look at him, he’s looking down at you in a mix of endearment, pride, and amazement.

“What? He deserves to get knocked down a peg. Should keep his mouth shut next time.”

“Agreed.” Steve declares from the other side of Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a tight side hug as you walk down the street. You let him, resisting the urge to bury your face and body into his side, his warmth, when his grip lightens and falls from your arm.

After another half hour of knocking on doors, you’re nearly done sweeping through Steve’s neighborhood, his house and Eddie’s van coming back into sight as you approach the last couple of houses. If it wasn’t for already going to every house in the neighborhood, the boys' complaints about how heavy their bags have gotten with candy is signaling the end of the night.

You stand with Eddie at the end of the walkways to the last few houses as the rest get the last of the candy for the night. He catches your eye when he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a rolled joint and a lighter. Just before he lights it, your laugh grabs his attention.

“Really, Eddie? In the middle of this uppity neighborhood?”

“What? I’m only being in character.” He laughs out, only to have you meet him with raised brows and a smirk. “Shaggy and Scooby are stoners and that’s a fact. Constantly having the munchies? I mean, HELLO!”

“You’re so dumb” you jest playfully as you resume your slow stride on the sidewalk.

“Well, you know what they say. Birds of a feather flock together.” He breathes out, keeping in step next to you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh really? How’s about I push your ass down this hill right here?” you tease, gesturing toward the down sloped hill between the houses as you pass.

“Pfft, I’d like to see you try.” he scoffs, playing unphased despite the wide grin on his face.

“Your skinny ass will go flying, right down into that drop off in the woods. Lost forever. Such a tragedy. Some say he's still tumbling to this day.” you sigh dramatically, earning a short but loud laugh from him.

“Uh huh. Well I’m pretty quick on my feet if I do say so myself, and I don’t think you’ll be getting too far in those heels.” he retorts, pointing down to the heels that have made your feet numb at this point.

“Well you see, there’s this concept called taking them off?” You tease, bumping your body against his. “I could outrun you.”

The rest of your friends at the last house on the route are forgotten behind you as you near Steve’s.

“That so?”

“Mhmm.” you state simply, arms crossed against your chest and head held high.

“Say, you still ticklish around… here”

You squeal at the quick flicker of his fingers at the side of your waist, jumping away from him. You take wary steps backward as you move in front of him, hands slightly held out.

“You can outrun me, huh? Wanna test that?” he pushes, creeping closer to you with a mischievous smirk and sparkle in his eye. You’ve known him long enough to know he’s about to make you eat your words.

A quick flinch towards you sends you scurrying. With no chance to take off your heels, your strides are stifled as you run the short distance to Steve’s driveway as quickly as you can. Eddie follows closely behind, tickling your sensitive sides every chance he can get, giggling maniacally when it falters your steps as you flinch away. 

Everyone else on the street probably thinks you’re crazy, freaks. You aren’t paying them any attention anyway as the smile on your face begins hurting your cheeks, eyes zeroing in on Eddie’s van a few short paces away.

You throw yourself against it, but Eddie’s relentless. Going for both your sides at the same time as you turn around to face him, sending you into a fit of giggles as you feebly attempt to push him away.

You see your opportunity and quickly jab your fingers into his armpits, sending him back with a flinch and a chuckle. He gives up, leaning back against the van next to you as you both laugh between attempts to catch your breath.

You playfully smack his arm, earning a fake “Ouch” and one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen adorn his beautiful face.

“You asshole, Eddie-Bo-Beddie” you tease, emphasizing the pronunciation of your favorite personal nickname for him that he’s always claimed to hate. In truth, he loves it.

“Alright, alright. How’s about I share half my loot to make it up to you, what do you say?” he teases back with the plan you both knew was already going to happen anyway.

“Oh my god” you groan and roll your eyes, only making him to laugh more as you push yourself off the van with the rest of your friends quickly approaching.

“Ugh, they make me sick. I wish they’d just kiss already and get it over with.” Robin mumbles to Steve, pulling a laugh from him as he nods in agreement, watching the show you two have put on.

“Tell me about it.”

With both yours and the younger members of the party’s curfews approaching, you say your goodbyes to Robin and Steve. Embracing them both with tight hugs before piling into Eddie’s van.

Riding down the empty streets of Hawkins with the van windows cracked, the cool air a welcomed sensation against your warm cheeks. The smile never fading from your lips as the sounds of Metallica playing low through the van speakers and the chatter from the kids in the back fill your ears. Your head leaning back against the passenger seat headrest rolls to spare a glance to Eddie. His eyes meet yours, mimicking your smile and sending a shock wave right to your heart.

You make me feel like I am young again.

You sigh in content as you face the winding roads again, deciding this year just might be your favorite Halloween yet.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓭: 𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓑𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓼 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

Domestic Bliss was a series I was doing featuring most of the Twisted Wonderland cast as fathers, and what their child/children are like! (With the Reader being referred to as mom!)

I had only completed Riddle and Cater’s parts (while posting sneak peaks of others), and I may come back to it someday! Until then, enjoy! ♡

⋆ As a father I believe that Cater would be easygoing, taking things as they come and adapting depending on the situation. His child would never have to be afraid to go to him for anything, whether it be to talk or in general. At times it may seem like he acts more like a friend rather than a parent (especially when his child is older) but that’s just because of how comfortable his child is around him. They can be open and honest with him, without worry of harsh judgment or needing to keep secrets. That’s not to say that Cater won’t give his opinion, making it known when he disagrees with something. It’s always with good intentions though, simply wanting the best for them. The type of parent that wants to capture every moment of his child’s life, leading to lot’s of pictures and videos. Everything from small moments to significant milestones like first steps, first words, etc. He’d keep up with all the latest trends and social media the kids are into, including whatever hobbies or interests his child has. He’d evolve from being “cool” to being “embarrassing” as his child got older, but affectionately.

⋆ Cater’s daughter would have a love for media, just like her father! She’s one of those babies that gets so excited whenever her favorite cartoon or character pops up on tv, babbling and bouncing up and down in excitement. She’d slowly move herself as close to the tv as possible in her baby roller walker, her attention focused on what’s happening on screen. If you or Cater turned off the tv or changed the channel she would immediately start crying, making grabby hands at the screen in an attempt to bring it back. You guys would take this into account when purchasing a vehicle, getting one of those family sized cars that can play movies and shows. Road trips had never been more peaceful, though you had to get used to listening to the same movie/show over and over again.

⋆ She has a plush toy of her favorite character that she treasures and always carries with her, like a security blanket. Even when it becomes old and torn you wouldn’t even think of replacing it, knowing how upset and distressed it would make her. You or Cater try your best to patch it up when needed, having to sew or restuff them. No matter the quality of your work, your daughter loves and appreciates it every time. She’s just happy to see her beloved friend feeling better!

⋆ Once she was a bit older Cater decided to get her a small tablet (the kind intended for kids), and to say she was glued to it would be an understatement. Wherever you went she’d bring it with her, either immersed in her favorite shows or walking around taking photos of anything she could. Much like her father she loves to take pictures and enjoys any opportunity to take some, preferably of you or Cater or her beloved plush friend. Though most times in her enthusiasm the pictures will be blurry or out of focus, Cater will always encourage her and treats every picture she shows him as the best photo he’s ever seen. He’ll also give subtle tips or suggestions to help her pictures come out more clear without discouraging her work.

⋆ Even as she gets older she still finds comfort in her favorite show/character, still carrying her beloved plush wherever she goes. She’ll usually keep them in her bag when at school or in public, having them peek out a bit so she can reassure herself of their presence. When she’s feeling anxious or upset she’ll give the plush some pets, the soft texture helping calm her down. If someone tried to make fun of her or (heaven forbid) take the plush from her, you and Cater would comfort her, making it known to the teachers/parents involved that you wouldn’t tolerate this type of behavior. 

⋆ If it were your daughter’s “friends” doing this, Cater would sit down with her and have a private discussion about it. He’d listen to her, giving her a shoulder to cry on if needed and gently giving his own thoughts on the matter. Once things settled he’d lighten the mood by redirecting the subject to a funny video he saw or a cute picture he wanted to show her, getting the smile back on her face. Cater can’t help the joy he feels when she makes some new friends who respect her boundaries and even enjoy the same show she does, asking if she’d like to invite them over for a slumber party sometime. Of course, she’d have to ask her mom first (You said yes, just as happy for her as Cater)

⋆ While your daughter does have a sweet tooth, she prefers savory food like Cater does. When she does have something sweet, it’s usually a salty sweet combination like chocolate covered pretzels or a sweet and spicy combination like chocolate with chili powder/extract in it. She has a high tolerance for spicy food and seems to enjoy anything that has a bit of a kick, so if you’re not a fan of spicy things (or don’t have a high tolerance for it) you make sure to cook your food separately from theirs. (and not to accept if they offer you a bite of their food, you learned that early on way back when you and Cater first started dating)

⋆ One thing about your home is that it’s always lively, Cater and your daughter turning on some music to sing and dance whenever they have to do chores. It’s because of this that you and Cater decided to start having a family karaoke night, usually held once a week during the weekend. You move the furniture in the living room and create a make-shift stage, bringing out all kinds of props and costumes for people to use or wear during their performances. At first it was just the three of you until Cater got the idea to invite his old club/bandmates to join in, Kalim and Lilia making sure to come whenever they’re available. Your daughter would even invite some of her friends to join in on the fun, doing duets with them while everyone clapped and cheered them on.

⋆ Cater would make sure to record the performances throughout the night and would take a group picture of everyone before they left, having a special cork board in the living room where he puts each new photo. You guys have fun looking at the photos and reminiscing about moments from past karaoke nights, talking in between laughs as you point at different pictures. 

⋆ Though you can’t help your bias when looking at the photo from your first karaoke night; you, Cater, and your daughter all squeezed together for a selfie. You’re all wearing a bunch of random things, from sunglasses to hats to feather boas, with the make-shift stage you made behind you. All three of you are smiling towards the camera, your daughter in between you both grinning from ear to ear. Looking at the photo always fills you with warmth and fondness. Cater says it’s his favorite and you can’t help but agree ♡

Originally posted: November 30th, 2023

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[fionaapplerocks]

The Long and Winding Road That Leads to Fiona Apple

By Tyler Coates 2012-05-31

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” So goes the oft-quoted line from William Faulkner’s Requiem for a Nun. Time is circular, and our relationship with our own personal histories is ever changing. This is a concept with which the enigmatic Fiona Apple is deeply familiar.

The 34-year-old singer-songwriter is about to release her fourth album—the first in seven years—aptly titled The Idler Wheel is wiser than the Driver of the Screw, and Whipping Cords will serve you more than Ropes will ever do. The spinning wheel of time cranks back and forth for Apple, who continues to re-examine her past while trying to keep up with the present. Like most artists, however, Apple finds that her fans cherish the past more than she does.

In 2000, a 16-year-old fan named Bill Magee approached Apple after a show in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania with a request: he told her he was a member of his high school’s gay-straight alliance and hoped that Apple could write a few words of support. “[I] was much more interested in interacting with a celebrity than building an alliance between gays and straights,” he admitted on his blog 12 years later where he posted a scanned image of the letter he received less than a week after requesting her response.

Apple wrote: “All I know is I want my friends to be good people, and when my friends fall in love, I want them to fall in love with other good people. How can you go wrong with two people in love? If a good boy loves a good girl, good. If a good boy loves another good boy, good. And if a good girl loves the goodness in good boys and good girls, then all you have is more goodness, and goodness has nothing to do with sexual orientation.”

“My brother was the one who told me about it,” Apple tells me just weeks after Magee posted the letter on his Tumblr, which was then picked up by various sites like Jezebel and Pitchfork. “I was like, ‘A letter I wrote to someone when I was 22 has made its way online?’ That’s the scariest thing I could possibly hear in my life. And the subject matter was so important—I know how I’ve always felt so I knew it wasn’t going to be a bad letter, but I was like, ‘What did I say?!’”

The letter’s sudden popularity online is indicative of how much has changed since Apple released her debut album, Tidal, in 1996.

For starters, she was then a 19-year-old singer-songwriter signed to a major record label and churning out emotional and dark odes at a time when her contemporaries were singing bubblegum-pop love songs.

She made headlines after appearing in the video for “Criminal.” Shot in a seedy apartment, the video featured a scantily clad and emaciated Apple, sparking criticisms of the exploitive quality of the images (and suggesting that she had an eating disorder). In 1997, when accepting her award for Best New Artist at the MTV Video Music Awards, Apple infamously shouted into the microphone, “This world is bullshit, and you shouldn’t model your life on what we think is cool, and what we’re wearing and what we’re saying.”

While the speech was replayed and parodied on TV for years following, Apple was lucky enough to have said those words before the days of blogging and YouTube; had she given the speech 15 years later, it may have turned into a career-damaging viral video and sparked a few thousand snarky tweets.

She also has the luxury of being a successful artist who doesn’t need to promote herself online. “They want me to tweet now, but I don’t,” Apple tells me of her label reps. “It doesn’t feel natural to me. But I do find it actually more interesting to see people posting ridiculously mundane shit. I like to hear about what people had for breakfast or what they did all day. It’s interesting because I don’t know how other people live.”

While Apple is hardly a recluse, she’s made few public appearances in the seven years since the release of her third album, Extraordinary Machine. The excitement following the announcement by Epic Records of the late-June release of The Idler Wheel speaks to the loyalty of her fan base. (And as for that long-winded title, it’s a callback to the much-maligned 90-word title of her acclaimed sophomore effort, universally shortened to When the Pawn…)

The Idler Wheel does not deviate from the familiar sounds of Apple’s earlier records; the songs are still layered with complex instrumentation, and her reverberant voice still takes center stage in each tune.

The album was produced nearly in secret over the last few years—a surprising move from an established artist with the resources of a major label at her disposal. But Apple explains that her experience with the label system is what allowed her to feel free to work on her own. “It was very casual, and I wasn’t fully admitting that I was making an album,” she says. “I got to use the time in the studio to inspire me to finish other things rather than feel like I was finishing homework to hand in. It wasn’t a lot of pressure. And the record company didn’t know I was doing it, so nobody was looking over my shoulder.”

Most might take that mentality as a reaction to the restrictions of her record label, especially after the drama surrounding the release of Extraordinary Machine. After collaborating with Jon Brion (who produced When the Pawn) to create an early version of the third album in 2002, Apple then decided to rework all but two of the songs with producer Mike Elizondo.

The original version of the album leaked online, and Brion suggested in interviews that Apple’s label had rejected the demo and forced her to rerecord the songs (a claim that Apple later denied). Still, it incited an uproar among her fans. An online-based movement called Free Fiona organized demonstrations outside of the Sony headquarters in New York, and protestors sent apples to the label’s executives.

The final version of the album was released in 2005 and received positive reviews and earned Apple a Grammy nomination. “I ran into the guy who started Free Fiona after a show in Chicago,” she tells me. “He apologized to me! They didn’t get the story quite right, but they did help me get my album out. I felt so bad that he had spent all this time thinking I was pissed at him—I had a physical urge to get down on the floor and kiss his shoes!”

It’s an intense reaction (she admits she didn’t bow to her fan because “it would be weird if I did that”), but Apple is still a very intense person. Dressed in a flowing skirt paired with several layers of spaghetti-strapped tank tops that reveal her slender frame (which seems healthier than in her early days, giving the impression that she must spend most of her downtime on a yoga mat), Apple fidgets in her seat during our conversation, often giving off an infectious giggle.

But she is surprisingly comfortable to talk to, not much like the somber young woman who sang of heartbreak and disappointment. “I don’t think I’ll ever have an idea of what I look like to the rest of the world,” she replies when I ask if she ever worries that her lyrics, which are sometimes in stark contrast to the up-tempo, progressive sounds of her songs’ instrumentations, give off the wrong impression of her personality. “It’s all your own perception. I could easily be concerned with how I’m taken and then have all the good stuff filtered through to me and choose to believe that. For the rest of my life it’d be the truth for me, but not the whole truth.”

Born Fiona Apple McAfee Maggart in New York City to Brandon Maggart and Diane McAfee, Apple’s musical destiny was settled at birth. The McAfee-Maggarts are, while not reaching Barrymore-level name recognition, an entertainment family; Apple’s father was nominated for a Tony for his performance in the Broadway musical Applause, both her mother and sister are singers, and her half-brothers work in the film industry—one an actor and the other a director.

She’s a third-generation performer, as her grandmother was a dancer in musical revues and her grandfather a Big Band-era musician. While Apple’s auspicious introduction to the pop world had critics calling her a prodigy, she crafted her early songs as a cathartic necessity. (“Sullen Girl” from Tidal, in particular, is about her rape at the age of 12.) “Over the years it’s transferred more into a craft,” she says. “I use myself as material because that’s what I’ve got. But these days I write less than half of my songs to get myself through things. I have to find other things to be meaningful— otherwise I’d just be miserable all the time.”

Her songs are still extremely autobiographical, which is perhaps their charm. Following in the footsteps of other singer-songwriters, especially women who emerged in the early ’90s and expressed their emotions in particularly vulnerable ways, Apple’s openness has always had an empowering appeal. Her songs seem to suggest that feeling a variety of emotions—sadness, glee, despair, insanity—is not only normal, but, like those self-reflective musicians before her, she also gives permission to her listeners to feel the same way.

Even for Apple, her older songs are relics of another time, and she now makes them applicable to her life in the present. “They all kind of become poems after a while,” she says. “You can take your own meaning out of them. It’s been a very long time [since my first albums], and I can apply those songs to other situations that are more current in my life.” She admits she has changed greatly since she started writing songs in her late teenage years, especially when it comes to how she portrays herself. “I don’t feel comfortable singing the songs that I wrote. I used to blame other people and not take responsibility. I thought I was a total victim trying to look strong.”

And she is much harder on herself in the songs on The Idler Wheel than she ever was before. Sure, she admitted to being “careless with a delicate man��� in “Criminal,” arguably her most famous song, and in When the Pawn’s “Mistake” she sang, “Do I wanna do right, of course but / Do I really wanna feel I’m forced to / Answer you, hell no.”

On The Idler Wheel, Apple examines her own solitude and neuroses as well as their effect on her relationships with others. “I can love the same man, in the same bed, in the same city,” she sings on “Left Alone,” “But not in the same room, it’s a pity.” On “Jonathan,” a somber love song layered with robotic, mechanical sounds that’s presumably about her ex-boyfriend, author and Bored to Death creator Jonathan Ames, she urges, “Don’t make me explain / Just tolerate my little fist / Tugging at your forest-chest / I don’t want to talk about anything.”

But performing, as a central requirement of her career, still takes precedence. “Some nights I’m very, very nervous, and some nights I’m not at all,” she tells me. “I think, ‘This is ridiculous. I’m not a person who does a show, I’m a person who should be on a couch watching TV.’ But then it’s like I get knocked into another state of consciousness, and then I’m left behind, and the person that’s doing the show is there and there’s nothing else in the world existing other than the note she’s singing. It’s such a joy to do, but I forget about it until I’m on the stage.”

Apple has lived in los Angeles since Tidal’s release in 1996, although she admits that she’s “not an L.A. girl.” “I was supposed to stay in New York,” she tells me. “I remember being 17 and asking if I could record in New York. How did I end up here? It’s 15 years later… How did that happen?” Apple doesn’t seem to process time like other people. When I ask when she began recording The Idler Wheel and when she knew it was ready, she has a complicated answer. “It must have started in 2008. Or 2009. I don’t know! I have no idea. It’s weird to think that there was 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011.” Her big blue eyes suddenly look to her right as she furrows her brow. “Where’ve I been? What was I doing? What was that year about?”

Maybe the solitary nature of living in L.A. contributes to her aloof tendencies. “I’m not a social creature,” she says, “I don’t go to parties all the time because I’d probably just wonder why I’m there in the first place.” Her preference for being alone may also stem from the kind of personal criticisms that people tend to throw at female musicians. “I’ve gotten so used to being misunderstood. Nobody’s ever really said anything bad about my music, but when I’ve had albums come out there are always people making fun of me. ‘Oh, she’s back?’” She didn’t even expect the comments (mostly online) when the full title of The Idler Wheel was announced. “I didn’t stop to think that anyone would call it ridiculous, but people did. I thought, ‘Ahhh. My old friends.’ I’m not sure what’s ridiculous about it, but that’s what they’ve got to say.”

I cautiously mention the infamous acceptance speech from the VMAs, a moment early in her career that defined the public persona of Fiona Apple as an angry, ungracious woman. “I’ve never been ashamed of that,” she replies immediately. It was the first moment, she says, in which she felt like she could speak up—to break free from the shyness that defined her childhood and early teenage years. “I genuinely, naïvely thought that I was going to put out a record and that was going to make me have friends. I expected to give it to people and they would understand me; no one would say to me, ‘We don’t want to be your friend because you’re too intense or too sad all the time.’” It wasn’t necessarily the case.

“Do you still think the world is bullshit?” I ask when we talk about the VMAs. She laughs. “It’s not the world!” she exclaims. “Of course people think that ‘the world’ is the whole world. I felt that I had finally gotten into the popular crowd, and I thought, ‘Is this what I’ve been doing this for?’ I felt like I was back in the cafeteria in high school and still couldn’t speak up for myself.”

These days, Apple spends more time focusing on her own art rather than the reactions to it. With age has come calm and decreasing desire to pay attention to her detractors. “I’ve decided it takes too much energy to try to avoid it,” she tells me, brushing aside her freshly dyed crimson hair. “I’m not going to hide from the world.”

Source Archive.org:

https://web.archive.org/web/20120603033544/http://www.blackbookmag.com/music/the-long-and-winding-road-that-leads-to-fiona-apple-1.49114

[adarkroomandawallflower]

hey there! nice to see another active star trek blog 😃 could you do some relationship with Data hcs if that's okay? what it would be like?

Hello! Welcome to my blog, and thank you so very much for taking the time to pop this request into my inbox! I agree, it's always nice to find other active Trek blogs 😊

Yes, that's absolutely okay!! I think we all know that being in a relationship with Data would be so wonderful because it would be a very happy, healthy, and exciting one, but I think the specifics of the relationship would vary, based on one major factor: whether or not you both were stationed on the Enterprise together. Thus, I split these headcanons up to sort of compare and contrast this factor. As a result, this response got really long...😅

I hope that's okay, and I hope you enjoy!

Being in a relationship with Data if you're not stationed on the Enterprise with him:

Data is very detail-oriented and enjoys following a routine (or at least as much of a routine as he can follow when living on a galaxy class starship that runs into unpredictable problems several times a week), and I think he'd be even more detailed and routine-oriented if you were posted somewhere other than the Enterprise.

Because Data loves the older, more traditional aspects of humanity, I think he would love writing letters/messages. I like to think that every M-class planet has a post office-esque space station next to it, so people can "mail" things to each other (maybe every quarters in a starship has a little mailbox-like transporter where they can receive mail from these stations?). Whenever Data visits a new M-class planet, he would try to pick something up for you, and drop it off at the mail space station nearby.

Despite his love for handwritten letters, I don't think he'd do that very often if you weren't on the Enterprise (he'd definitely include one whenever he sends you a "package", though), but he would send you subspace messages via your PADDs fairly frequently.

He'd try to send you messages almost daily, depending on how busy he is and what nonsense the Enterprise is currently involved in.

The messages would probably be similar to his personal logs, but with a more jovial and romantic touch:

Dearest,

It has been quite a day! An accidental virus was created in Sick Bay this morning, which later became airborne, causing the entire ship to de-evolve into ancestral life-forms. The Captain and I were on an Away Mission during this time, and did not succumb to the virus (the Captain was infected upon on our return, but he did not fully succumb to the infection nor de-evolve). With the Captain's help, I was able to create a remedy for the virus, and all of the crewmembers have since returned to their normal, humanoid forms.

Meanwhile, during all that 'excitement', Spot birthed a healthy litter of kittens! She had five kittens in total: four males and one female. Strangely, one of the kittens elicits thoughts of you in my neural net. I am uncertain why this kitten seems to 'remind' me of you, but I believe that is something which you would find endearing.

Has your day been equally or comparably exciting? How is your current project progressing? Did you receive the 'package' I 'mailed' to you last week? (I shall reserve the extraneous details about said 'package' until our next correspondence, so as not to ruin the surprise, if you have not yet received it.)

I anticipate your response, and look forward to our next 'meeting'!

Your 'Sunshine',

Data

In addition to frequent subspace messages, Data would also schedule weekly video calls with you!

Those calls would be more personal and less clinical, but still professional and sweet.

Spot would also make frequent appearances in your video calls!

You always end your video calls by blowing each other a kiss (sometimes, Spot steals your kisses, and Data will teasingly scold her "Spot, that osculation was not intended to be received by you!")

Data probably has years worth of Shore Leave racked up, which comes in handy for you because he can almost always take his Shore Leave at the same time as you.

You're able to spend nearly all of your scheduled Shore Leaves together (except in the few instances where a last minute emergency happened on the Enterprise, and you weren't able to reschedule your Shore Leave to accommodate this). You usually try to visit a different planet each time, but if the two of you have a favorite or preferred planet, you would also schedule multiple Shore Leaves on that planet.

I think that Data is a very private person, in the sense that he doesn't offer personal information unless he feels it can be used as a helpful anecdote or example, or someone directly asks him about it.

Thus, I think he wouldn't mention you to his friends for a while, but when he does mention you, it would probably be seemingly random, as a somewhat relevant afterthought:

Riker: I don't know how couples stationed on different ships or stations make it work. Our current technology is great and makes it much easier to keep in touch than in previous centuries, but I just can't imagine not waking up next to the one I love every day...

Data: It can be difficult, in that sense, but my partner and I do not see it as a difficulty or challenge. In fact, in some aspects, it is more rewarding, as it makes our physical encounters more 'passionate' and meaningful.

Riker: I guess you're right, Data. It would be more pass---wait, did you say, "my partner"???

Data: Indeed, I did, Commander.

Riker: Data!! You have a partner, and didn't tell us??

Data: *soft, confused look* No one has inquired about my partner thus far, and I did not deem it a relevant aspect of my personal life to discuss, until now.

Riker: *shocked Pikachu*

Of course, once the rest of the crew finds out, they practically beg Data to meet you, which leads you to scheduling your next Shore Leave to be a trip to the Enterprise.

Data is so excited for your visit, but he'd never admit it.

He spends weeks planning everything he wants to show you, what activities he wants to do with you, and updates his quarters a bit to accommodate a second person temporarily living there.

Although he's not quite worried or anxious about the crew meeting you, he is a bit concerned that they might overwhelm you. So, he makes sure that he's the only one in the Transporter Room (aside from whoever is manning the Transporter at that time) to greet you when you beam aboard.

The first thing you see when you materialize on the Transporter Pad is his sweet, gentle smile, and his arms stretched out completely in front of him for a hug, "Welcome aboard, Dearest!"

The rest of your trip is spent doing date-like activities (i.e. holodeck adventures, trips to the Arboretum, painting and/or reading with him and Spot in their quarters, etc.). Overall, it's a very relaxing and sweetly domestic/mundane time, which both of you enjoy greatly.

He gives you a tour of the whole ship, which ends in you meeting his friends for a small celebration in Ten-Forward. The celebration is very chill, and mostly involves them telling you stories about their adventures and funny things Data has done or experienced during his time on the ship.

They also tease Data relentlessly, much to his chagrin. It's all affectionate taunts, like how he could have kept you a secret for so long, how he managed to "snatch you up", whether his romantic subroutine was "effective", etc.

While Geordi proceeds to tell the story of when Data let him "borrow" Spot, you move a hand under the table and take Data's hand softly but firmly into yours. Data blinks and turns his head to look at you in soft surprise, and when you return his gaze briefly, you flash him a warm smile.

Realizing this was likely a sign that you were feeling comfortable in the presence of his friends, and despite the jesting of his friends, you felt an enhanced desire to express romantic affection with him somewhat publicly, he softened his expression and posture, and entwined his fingers with yours as his lips curved upwards into a faint smile.

Troi, who's sitting beside you but angled in such a way that she can see slightly underneath the table, catches this and beams happily.

The evening ends with lots of warm welcomes and words of acceptance into their little Found Family. Everyone already loves you, and Data is so pleased!

After that first trip, whenever Data is unable to schedule a Shore Leave at the same time as you, you schedule yours to be on the Enterprise (much to Data's delight).

Being in a relationship with Data while being stationed on the Enterprise:

As mentioned in the previous set of headcanons, Data is very traditional and old-fashioned (in the best way!), and would enjoy older forms of romantic affection, such as handwritten letters, surprise gifts, etc.

Since you're on the same ship, now he can give you handwritten letters more frequently! They would come in the form of daily/routine notes, such as leaving a little sticky note on the replicator with a silly scientific joke on it, and formal love letters. He'd also leave you a little note on his pillow, if he had to unexpectedly leave during the night/earlier in the morning, and won't be able to join you for breakfast (more on this a little later).

As far as his penmanship goes, I think he would write in perfect, beautiful cursive, and probably use a quill and ink when writing a full letter. When writing official/formal love letters to you, he'd also probably use melted wax and a stamp to seal them (both as an additional security/privacy measure, but also because he's so delightfully extra like that). For his little notes, he'd probably just use a regular pen, but it would still be written in neat cursive.

You return the favor by leaving him little notes written in binary code around your shared quarters or his work areas, which he absolutely adores. He's very pleased to have this sort of inside joke, although he finds it difficult not to discuss it with others (he knows this defeats the purpose of an inside joke, which is why he refrains from doing it, but he wants to share this amusing tidbit with someone else so badly sometimes).

One of the things I think Data would covet in a romantic relationship is spending time together in a very literal/strict sense (especially because he knows that this part of a relationship is always threatened when serving on a starship), but also keeping in mind personal space.

He does this in two ways: First, he'd have scheduled, formal dates with you, probably once or twice a month. These dates would typically include holodeck adventures and trips to the Arboretum. Second, he'd have routine, daily "dates" with you. These would include having meals together, doing your individual work separately but in your shared quarters, and having philosophical/intellectual conversations.

Because Data enjoys traditional romance, he would want to share meals together, even if he decides not to eat himself. He tries to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with you every day. Of course, this is not always possible when stationed on the flagship of the Federation, so he's a bit more lenient about missing breakfast and dinner.

However, he is very strict about lunch. In all your time stationed on the Enterprise together, you can count the number of times Data had to cancel lunch with you on one hand. All those cancelations were due to extreme circumstances (i.e. him being kidnapped for several days).

He (almost) always makes sure that you both take an official lunch break together. It's never anything fancy or formal (usually just the two of you in one of your offices or in a quiet corner in Ten-Forward, chatting about how your days have been so far), but it's very special and important to both of you.

Data also likes to end these little lunch dates with a literal "treat", like a cookie, tart, or whatever other sweet treats you enjoy, that he'll share with you.

He doesn't do this every time because "the element of surprise can make the reward even more pleasurable", but you do somewhat expect it. Regardless, it always brightens your day and makes you smile!

He insists on eating it with you, and always lets you have the last bite.

He'll also try to be extra cute every once in a while by attempting to do the classic Lady and the Tramp spaghetti moment (it doesn't work very well for desserts, but it always makes you laugh because he ends up getting some of the dessert on his face) or by feeding you a bite or two.

Lunch dates always end with a soft little peck, exchanged smiles, and gentle farewells.

You'd be very perceptive of Data's love for routine, so I think your main form of love-language for him is to incorporate a little routine into your romantic affirmations and affections with him.

One of the major ways you'd do this is by sort of scheduling your kisses. I strongly believe that cheek kisses are his favorite/preferred form of physical affection, so you'd always start your days with him by giving him a cheek kiss. You'd likely do this right after your shared breakfast/before the two of you part to start your days.

Once this becomes routine, he'd be a little cheeky (pun completely intended 😈) about it. For example, if you're running late one morning and try to leave without giving him his morning cheek kiss, he'd give you a very pointed look and extend his cheek out towards you, "Are you forgetting something, Dearest?"

If one of you isn't there in the morning due to work, don't think he's letting you get out of his promised daily cheek kiss! He'll make sure to squeeze one in during your lunch break later that day.

I think he'd also enjoy nose kisses, both a little peck to his lovely snoot and bunny kisses/nose nuzzling. I think Data considers sharing deep conversations in private together to be a very intimate activity. So, this would typically trigger his intimacy circuits, if you will, which would make him want to cuddle, bunny kiss/nose nuzzle, etc. These moments are likely when he'd be most physically affectionate with you.

In general, he considers these kinds of kisses to be more intimate and not "appropriate" as PDA, so these would be shared exclusively in your quarters.

Knowing his love for routine, right before you both go to 'sleep' each night, you'll kiss his nose softly (and just like the morning cheek kiss, you can expect him to remind you about it, if you ever forget).

Speaking of PDA, I don't think Data particularly enjoys PDA. Personally, I think he would only want to hold hands (especially on your Arboretum walks/dates), and share an occasional cheek kiss. That being said, if you'd prefer more PDA, then he would consider displaying other forms of affection with you in public (he'd still never do anything he deems to be 'too intimate', though).

Sometimes, when Data is really busy but you aren't, you'll just sit near him and his console while he works, with Spot curled up in your lap. He especially enjoys and appreciates this, although he can't explain why. Something about sensing your proximity and your relaxed vitals is very comforting and soothing for him.

I think Data's main love-language for you is sharing time/moments together. In particular, he enjoys moments where both of you are doing your own, individual work/things in each other's company. Usually, this involves Data softly tapping away at his console while you're on the couch with your PADD.

Spot also enjoys these moments, and will go back and forth between the two of you to get her desired amounts of affection.

However, he sometimes feels a little guilty about those moments because he's concerned that you're bored or that your free time could be better spent elsewhere.

You always reassure him that you're never bored and the activity is equally soothing and enjoyable for you, and that usually brings that cute little smile onto his face.

I think both you and Data would also have a bit of magpie instincts, so another one of your love-languages for each other is exchanging surprise and nuanced gifts with each other.

Data would definitely hand-make gifts for you, but those would be very meaningful and reserved for special occasions (i.e. birthdays or anniversaries). For other occasions, the gifts would be seemingly random, but actually quite personal. For example, on one Away Mission, he found a little rock that was the exact color of your eyes (and I mean exact, his positronic net calculated a 99.9999917% match). He can't explain why, but he had a strong urge to bring it back and give it to you, so he did (after intensive testing to ensure the rock didn't harbor any biological or chemical dangers, and was safe to keep aboard the quarters of a starship).

On your side, this would usually include artwork, either something you made yourself or purchased from other artists. Another common gift you'd give him is flowers/plants. I think Data absolutely adores plants, and almost nothing brings a smile to his face as easily as you surprising him with a lovely flower bouquet during his shift (note: I think Data would consider exchanging gifts in public as a form of PDA that he appreciates)!

Eventually, this leads to Keiko joking that your quarters is the Arboretum 2.0 of the ship because "your plant count comes very close!"

When he presents these kinds of gifts to you in public areas, nearby eavesdroppers would find it a bit odd, but you know what a deep and endearing sentiment it actually is, so you always appreciate it very much!

Whenever he'd get a questionable reading, he'd contact you immediately, make sure you're in a private area, and double check you're okay:

On busy days, especially ones where you don't get to see each other as often, he makes sure to check on you through the use of your Communicators. I think Data would keep tabs on you throughout the day, checking on your physical and mental well-being, this way.

Additionally, if you have a chronic illness, he'd also keep track of that (with your permission and approval). For example, if you wore some sort of device that monitors your condition/relevant vitals, he'd adjust that device so that its readings were shared instantly and constantly with his positronic net, especially in case of an emergency.

"Data to Lieutenant Y/L/N."

"Lieutenant Y/L/N here."

"Are you in a private area?"

"Not at this time."

"Are you able to relocate to a private area momentarily?"

"Yes, one moment."

"Acknowledged."

"Okay, I'm in my office now. Is everything okay?"

"That is the inquiry I have for you. I just received some questionable readings from your health monitor, and wished to 'check in'. Have your slightly elevated vitals been reduced? Are you hydrating properly and frequently? Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, my elevated vitals have been dealt with, and are currently on the path to returning to normal. Yes, I just had some water about fifteen minutes ago. And yes, I'm feeling okay. Thank you for checking in, Sunshine. Are you doing okay?"

"I am...relieved to hear that you are alright. Please refrain from straining yourself excessively for the remainder of your shift, if possible. Yes, I am fine. Thank you for also 'checking in' on me."

"Will do, and of course. I have to get back to work now, but I'll see you at around 21:00 hours for dinner?"

"Yes, I anticipate that my shift will conclude in time to keep our shared dinner arrangement at 21:00 hours. I will contact you immediately if this changes."

"Sounds good...good luck with the rest of your shift, and I'm fond of you very much."

"Likewise, Dearest. Data out."

A/N: Okay, I think that's finally it...I really hope this response was satisfactory for you, anon! These were really nice and comforting to write 🥰 Thank you again for the request, and please feel free to add on to these ideas and/or send in more requests!

[dumbslxtclub]

you're on your own, kid | e.m - part twelve

eddie munson x singlemom!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: as your relationship with eddie blossoms, the weight of truth reaches it's breaking point.

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 20, anxiety, heavy angst, fluff, no use of y/n, slow burn, brief mention of vomiting

word count: 10.8k+

a/n: some of this was inspired was inspired by the poem ‘i wish i were two dogs then i could play with me’ by anne carson. I apologise for the long absence, life has been crazy but I’m very proud of this chapter and I hope you enjoy! sorry in advance for the angst it’s about to get real. as always, shoutout to @dickfics69 for helping me xx

taglist: @lezzy-bennet @harrypotteranna23-blog  @reidstea @sashaphantomhive  @bexreadstoomuch @audhd-dragonaut @littlepotatobeansworld @ches-86  @tlclick73 @fckyeahlames @gnocchey @astrolockley @sidthedollface2 @micheledawn1975  @3rd-conchord @eddiesbabe95 @taintedcigs @harry-bowie-mercury @micheledawn1975​

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Part Twelve: Lovely To Sit Between Comfort and Chaos

Who knew scanning video tape barcodes could be so fun? An inherently arduous task made tolerable thanks to the warming weather, every monotonous motion laced with sun-soaked dopamine. The stale interior of Family Video is washed in a stream of sunlight, the clear sky leaving no interruption for the desired warmth.

The chill of winter has all but dissolved, the new season budding in blossoms dancing in lush trees and children without jackets in the park. But, beneath the surface, something more has begun mingling in your blood. Your veins are laced with the giddy joy of a new beginning, something fresh and exciting. Like the first pages of a good book, popping open a fresh bottle of wine. As with all beginnings, they have their own tonality, an addictive vibrancy that makes them so elusively special. Ebbing with firsts, ‘what ifs’ and unadulterated hope. Leaving you behind the store counter with a schoolgirl grin, completing the most mundane of tasks with enthusiasm. With every video returned into the system, another mountain forms as Robin returns to the front desk. She picks up the two latest additions from the pile, examining them with scrutiny.

“Woof. 9 ½ Weeks AND Body Heat? Someone had a big weekend.” She places them onto the steel rolling shelves, beginning to categorize the sections. Monotonous doesn’t even begin to describe the store’s activities, Robin falling especially victim to their dullness today. “Speaking of, did you get up to anything interesting?”

“Well, Audrey’s learnt how to chuck her bottles across the room. So I guess you could say things were pretty wild around my neck of the woods.”

“Guess I’ll cancel her pee-wee baseball lessons then.” She quips back, busying herself with the tapes. 

It’s a funny thing, dishonesty. How it sits on the roof of your stomach, digging its heels into your gut whenever it sees fit. You’ve elected not to tell Robin about your date with Eddie, nor your second kiss, for a myriad of reasons. As your closest friend, you understand that she is just looking out for you, protecting your vulnerable heartspace. With your connection to Eddie growing, complication is bound to follow. And in such a budding stage, it just doesn’t make sense to make a mountain out of a molehill. 

When you’d first approached her about your potential date with Andy, she’d responded in a similar manner, driven by protectiveness. But you knew, she could see an innate craving for something more than she could provide. It was only natural. Your new identity was tied to being a mother, full stop. It had been a long time since you felt wanted, attractive, desired. A longing to be wined and dined, treated like so much more than milk-providing breasts on legs. And she wanted you to get back out there, into the real world and away from your comfortable nest of motherhood. You are strong, Robin is well aware of this, fighting the urge to protect you and Audrey from the big bad world. Of course, hindsight is a funny thing, and she should have ripped Andy a new one before he had the chance to do anything stupid. To assume he was capable of being a decent human being for an evening was clearly expecting too much.

But with Eddie, it’s so different. Comfortable in ways you couldn’t articulate, you felt a sense of consistent safety you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Life has just become easier with him around, day to day tasks much more enjoyable in his company. And so, you’ve resolved to just dip your toes into the idea of it evolving into something more. It’s not so much lying as it is withholding the truth. 

With the final tape scanned in, you toss it onto the shelf, nearly bowling over Robin’s efforts in the process. She shoots you a warning glare before sighing, glancing melancholically at the clock.

“Ah, all that stands between me and a turkey sandwich is…” She picks up a video at random and glances down at it. “... Xanadu?! Oh my god-”

She drives the cart around the corner, cussing out the poor customer's choice in film. Smiling at her antics, you busy yourself tidying the cluttered desk. Taped to the monitor is a curated collection of film pictures Robin had Jonathan develop. The ultrasound photo still sits in prime position, with a copy of the hospital image below it. Another picture is tacked to the corner of the screen showing you and Robin cuddled up in bed with Audrey sandwiched between you, all in accidentally coordinating shades of blue. You remember that night, Eddie had dropped by after work and lost it laughing at the three of you perched in bed like the grandparents in Willy Wonka, quickly racing to the kitchen to retrieve Jonathan’s camera. Moments immortalized in stillness, energetic happiness radiating out of them.

So lost in the memory, you barely register the sound of the bell above the front door ringing.

“Late return charges got you grinning like that, sweetheart?” Averting your gaze, you watch as your babysitter of choice enters the store. Eddie shoots you a warm smile, one hand gently supporting the black carrier strapped to his chest. Audrey, pacifier in mouth, faces outwards with limbs dangling aimlessly in the confines of the holder. It’s hard to miss the small purple bow clipped to the crown of her head, something that was not part of her ensemble when you dressed her this morning. Like maneuvering his own personal puppet, Eddie picks up her limp wrist to wave it in your direction. The docile baby glances up at the metalhead with curiosity, seeking out the phantom manipulating her arm.

“I can’t rent you R-rated films with a minor present, I’m afraid.” You quip with a smile, pressing your palms into the counter.

“Shit.” Eddie points to the door, backtracking a step and glancing down at Audrey. “Let me just go and tie her up out front real quick, alright?”

“Please don’t tie my daughter up on the street like a dog.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about her.” Eddie grins. “But maybe we should lock in that date before we break out the ropes and collars, hm?”

His comment immediately causes your cheeks to flush, suddenly feeling stifled in your sickly green vest. Images of compromising positions flood your mind, notably featuring the handcuffs strung up in Eddie’s bedroom. An awkward chuckle escapes your throat, Eddie’s smile faltering at the sight.

“I- I mean… fuck, oh-” His hands quickly fly to Audrey’s ears, protecting her from his cursing. “- just, pretend I never said that, okay?”

“Not a chance. You’re never living that one down, Munson.” Your melodious laughter sets Eddie free. “Where’ve you two been today?”

“Y’know, just all of her favorite places. Had to head into the shop to pick up my paycheck, the guys couldn’t get enough of her. ‘Specially Bob, or Ed, I forget- he’s been going on about her for weeks so I thought if she visited he might shut up about it.”

“Using my daughter as bait? Classy.”

“You know me all too well, sweetheart.” He’s quick to catch the pacifier as it tumbles out of Audrey’s mouth, her face screwing up in disgust while he tries to feed it back to her. “Oh, and she met a dog today. It was a beast of a thing, a Rottweiler or something. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited, she grabbed its ears and everything. Thought it might bite her head off. It did lick her on the face though, but I suppose that’s good for her immune system.”

“Sounds like you two have been on quite an adventure.” With Audrey now within arms reach, you lean over the counter to give her a kiss on the forehead. Her eyes light up at the sight of you, giving Eddie enough time to quickly shove the pacifier back into her mouth.

“Speaking of which… what are the chances of you getting work off this Friday afternoon?” His voice is hushed, and laced with an edge of the cheekiness you’ve come to adore. With a quick survey around the shop, you inspect to make sure Robin is out of earshot.

“I think I could pull some strings.”

“Good, good. I might have something fun planned for us.” Eddie smiles sheepishly, readjusting the weight of the carrier. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Henderson might finally be ready to go solo with Squid.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, I mean- I didn’t see anyone chewing on the electrical cords so that’s an A in my books.”

“Glad to see you’ve got high standards.” You tease, the grin on Eddie’s face only growing..

“I sure do.” 

-

Quick question, what the hell does one wear on a date? For your outing with Andy, Robin took charge of your wardrobe and crafted an outfit with complete ease. The stakes were lower, you suppose, not overly concerned with your appearance. But for today’s mystery date with Eddie, you’re finding yourself digging into the deepest crevices of your wardrobe for something that screams I’m trying, but not too hard. And, as fate would have it, nothing is jumping out at you. That shirt? Too old. These pants? Don’t fit anymore. Those socks? They’re Audrey’s, not sure how they got in here…

Huffing, you plant yourself on the floor in a nest of unacceptable garments. Your daughter sits peacefully in her bouncing recliner, gaze contently following your every move while she gums at her caterpillars antennae. Grabbing two half decent short-sleeve tops, you hold them up in the baby’s direction.

“What do you think, little miss?” Audrey continues her chomping assault, not at all interested in your predicament. You sigh, tossing the shirts into the pile of mediocrity. “God, it’s easy for you. You look cute in everything.”

Articulating your last word with a tickle, you drink in the way her mouth spreads into a toothless smile. She’s really beginning to grow into her own looks, her features forming beyond the universal blob baby look. Her hair is getting a slight wave to it, still comedically thick on her head. Pouty lips combined with her chubby cheeks give her maximum squishability factor. And as you look down at the mess of clothes covering the floor, you can’t help but cast your mind 16 years into the future. Rummaging through your daughter’s wardrobe in search of the perfect first date outfit, taking her to the mall just outside of town hunting down the dreamiest of prom dresses. It’s all racing by before your eyes. A spiral begins to form if you think about it for too long, so you quickly dedicate yourself to the task at hand.

In the end, you decide to keep it simple. A boxy button-up paired with some acid-wash mom jeans and a leather belt. Your hair is on its last legs before wash-day, so you elect to tame it with a bandana wrapped at the nape of your neck to hide the greasy mess. And Converse to complete the ensemble, because, you know, you don’t have all day. Your babysitter will be here any minute.

Dustin is smilier than usual, if that’s even possible. Grinning from ear to ear, watching you dart across the room with his hands on his hips. Making no effort to help you find your keys, but rather engaged watching your one-man Monty Python sketch.

“All ready for your big date?” The teenager articulates the last word with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. It stops you in your tracks, shooting daggers his way and doing little to wipe his smile away. 

“For the last time, it’s not a date!” You lie through your teeth back to him. “I told you, we’re just going to hang out as friends. Adult friends. You know, without the presence of a baby.”

“Sure, sure. So, you got all glammed up for nothing?”

“Oh my god, I am not glammed up!” Glancing down at your outfit, you subtly worry that you may come off as trying too hard.

“I’m just saying…” Dustin throws his hands up defensively, the traces of a smile still playing on the corner of his mouth. “... you do look really nice, though.”

A humble grin makes itself known, abandoning your fruitless search to cross over to the younger boy. With figures like Steve and Eddie in his life, it’s easy to see where Dustin gets his chivalrous manners from. 

“Aw, thanks, Dusty.” Flinging your arms around his shoulders, you pull him in for a tight squeeze with the explicit purpose of embarrassing him. The teenager relents quickly, giving your back a firm pat as you hold him to you in a vice grip. Giggling at the way he squirms in your arms, you take a few wobbly steps to keep him locked into place.

Burrowing your face into his mess of curls, you allow yourself to indulge in the comfort of his embrace. He’s always been a cuddly kid, and perhaps you weren’t aware of how much you needed this until now. The pair of you stand there for a beat, allowing the moment to morph from playful teasing into genuine support. Two kids, sharing a history of pain, guilt and loss. Finding solace in one another, the older enveloping the younger and soothing whatever lingering ache burns beneath their collective sorrow. He misses Steve. God, how he misses him. 

It seeps through the pores of his fingertips, gently caressing your spine in small circles. As if, if you were to listen closely, beyond the dull hum of the refrigerator and the scattered bird calls outside, you could hear it. The tiniest voice, buried beneath unkempt curls, asking will it ever go away? And you both know the answer. It won’t, but you’ll learn to live with it. Together.

Biting back the swell of tears wetting your tongue, threatening to make themselves known, you refuse to crumble before him. Not today. Not on a day as happy as this. 

If it’s true that Eddie has little experience with dating, he sure as hell masks it well. With a handful of daisies clutched in his fist, he’s the epitome of confidence as he raps on your door three times. Claiming the flowers were for Audrey (and definitely not for you), he quickly shuts down Dustin’s insinuations before shuttling you out the front door to his chariot. He always opens the door for you, but the small gesture makes you giddy with girlish excitement. And as soon as he joins you in the dingy interior, positive the pair of you are out of Dustin’s prying eyeline, he leans over the center console to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. The brief contact causes your heart to skip, chapped lips meeting soft skin so casually it’s disarming. A calloused thumb brushing your chin, edging your face in the direction of him, drinking in every imperfection dancing across your skin in the fading afternoon light. Noses lingering inches from one another, wrinkles forming at the edges of his eyes preceding a Cheshire-cat grin.

“Ready for our next adventure?”

With a nod, clicking the gears into drive, the van rolls out of the sun-bathed trailer park and onto the winding roads out of town. It’s easy, the silence that exists between you while you tune out to the sound of whatever metal cassette is shoved into the car’s stereo. Pulling further and further out of the small town, away from the noise. The bustle of life, the judgemental whispers. To some unknown destination, where the two of you will be free to just be.

It comes into view around half an hour into the drive, sticking out like a sore thumb against the lush forest surrounding you. A kitschy, neglected sign with what appears to be a beaver toothily smiling down at you, waving its unoiled, mechanical arm at passers-by. Silly Putter Mini Golf. Pulling into the tiny parking lot, you study the loud canary yellow clubhouse building while Eddie clambours out of the driver’s side. It’s totally cheesy, down to the pathetically flickering lightbulb on the welcome sign. And you couldn’t love it more.

Swinging the passenger side door open, your date extends his ringed hand outward.

“Ready to get your putt on?”

With utmost ease, Eddie sinks the ball on his second shot. You could be mad at his seemingly god-given talent, but it’s hard to stay upset watching his hips sway like that in those dark jeans. Even at a children’s putt-putt course, he’s shown no interest in dressing more family friendly. Under your breath, you mutter praise to the inventor of muscle tank tops, now privy to the way his sinewy muscles flex with each stroke of the golf club. Occasionally, the handle of the club would clink against his wallet chain draped out of his pocket, drawing your attention back to his narrow hips. As far as you were concerned, you were a winner tonight, regardless of the scores.

“Yes! Gotta catch up, sweetheart. I’m beating you by…” He pulls the small scorecard out of his back pocket and grins. “... five points.”

Shooting a distrusting look in his direction, you pace to meet him on the prickly astroturf. 

“What?! I thought you said it was three?” 

Snatching the page away, Eddie holds it tauntingly above your head. He swings it around like a kite, mocking your stature while the only other family here passes by you with milkshakes in hand.

“That was before you hit the windmill twice on the last hole. Bit embarrassing, if you ask me.” He pokes, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. “Tell you what. You make this in less than two shots, I’ll call it even. Even throw in some fries afterwards, as a sign of good showmanship.”

A competitive energy charges through your body, a daring smirk playing on your face. Through your lashes, you challenge the metalhead’s smug demeanor, flirting with the notion of friendly competition.

“Deal.”

With a newly confident stride, you make your way to the fluorescent pink tee you’d picked out for yourself, placing the equally obnoxious green ball atop it. It’s a fairly easy set up, two small hills creating a valley that would lead you straight to the hole. A mechanical crocodile snaps out of the wall sporadically, directly in line to your goal, hinges chomping at nothing. You assume the stance, needing to bend over slightly to accommodate the child-sized putter you were gripping. The crocodile seems to be popping out every five seconds, and so you brace yourself until it begins its certain retreat. Drawing your putter back, you hear it click against the ball, knowing immediately you overshot it. The ball rolls over one of the bumps in the turf, into a direct line with the crocodiles elongated snout, sending it back in your direction with a pathetic tumble. 

“Shit.” You groan, attempting to tune out the smug laughter behind you. A tattooed arm comes into view over your left shoulder, pointing to the red flag sticking out of the ground.

“The holes over there, sweetheart.” Eddie quips matter-of-factly.

“Gee, thanks. What would I do without you?” Shooting daggers at your entirely too-smug date, you elbow him in the ribs before setting off in the direction of the ball. It seems your jab did little to quell Eddie’s laughter, who quickly catches up to you.

“Think you need to work on your form.”

“There’s a form needed for mini-golf?”

“Mhm, form I possess by the bucketful.” God, he’s a smug little shit sometimes.

Incredulous, you welcome his challenge with wide-open arms. “Alright then, genius. Enlighten me. Show me how it's done.”

Eyebrows disappearing into his messy bangs, Eddie’s doe eyes twinkle with boyish mischief, a prominent dimple playing deep into his cheek.

“Here.” Placing his hands on your shoulders, he maneuvers you in the direction of your goal, now partially obstructed by the protruding crocodile snout. “Line ‘er up.”

He angles himself around you, back pressed to abdomen, warmth emanating from the thin cotton of his shirt against yours. His feet shuffle to either side of yours, boxing you into his cradling hold. Snaking his bare arms along yours, starting at your elbow, each finger wrapping gently around the girth of your forearm. He lingers a moment too long, you don’t complain. Slowly working his way down to your wrists, locking his digits around the boney flesh. Breath on the nape of your neck, adrenaline pumping too fast for you to look anywhere but the lime-green golf ball at your feet. 

“That’s it…” His chest rumbles against your ribcage, coaxing vibrations of praise causing your fingertips to go numb. “Nice and gentle, okay?”

One slow nod is all you manage, feeling his gaze burning into your profile. You watch as the rusting reptile makes itself known against the fake grass, gaping jaws ready to foil your next putt. As it begins its retreat, you take a deep inhale, feeling your ribs expand against the comfort of Eddie’s sternum.

“Go.” Barely a whisper is required, his lips so close to your ear you can practically feel their plush sanctuary. In tandem, Eddie gently pulls your wrists sideways before encouraging you forward with perfect momentum. Metal meets plastic with a firm thud, propelling the ball forward. It rolls, and a collective breath is held. As if the future of the world hinges on this single stroke. Picking up sand and debris along the way, the bright sphere travels across the turf towards its goal. It hits the lip of the hole before tumbling in with a clatter, sending your arms skyward in celebration as you discard the putter.

“Yes!” Gleaming with joy, you spin on your heels to press a firm finger into Eddie’s chest. “In your smug, stupid face, Muns-”

Victory is swiftly cut short as an arm wraps around your hip, grip settling in the groove of your waist. You slot perfectly into the crook of his lean body, softness meeting strength entirely channeled into closing the gap between you. The sheer momentum of it knocks a sigh loose from your chest, clinging to the anchor of his chest with bunched fists entangled in his shirt. His free hand nestles beneath your chin, a firm thumb pressing and guiding your eyeline up to his. Eddie shines with pride. Smiling from ear to ear, shaking his head at your antics with pure amusement, feeling the contagion of your joy. 

Angling your chin slightly higher, Eddie presses his lips down onto yours with fervor. A blend of your two previous encounters, it’s passionate yet careful, a marriage of wanton desire and delicate care. You lean into it, drawing him closer by the cloth adorning his torso, chasing the taste of his kiss. As if to commit it to memory, to learn how it sits in your mouth and if the needy aftertaste ever dissipates. Muscles not just for decoration, but with the greater use of keeping you pressed intimately to his body. His thumb brushes against the groove of your jawline, dancing across the expanse of skin he is yet to be acquainted with. But there will be time for that later. Eddie is the one to pull away, a proud grin still plastered on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart. Ready for your prize?”

Food always tastes better when someone else is paying for it. The fries have the perfect crunch to them, the outer a golden brown against the fluffy white potato now filling your mouth rapidly. Eddie claims that they only came in a package deal with two cans of soda, but you have an inkling he may be lying about that. Your date watches as you shove the greasy food into your mouth, taking a long sip of his Coke.

“Looks like you’re enjoying your winnings over there.”

“Mmm-“ You mumble through a mouthful of starch. “Feels like there’s a birthday party in my mouth.”

Eddie’s brows furrow with amusement at your choice of words, shaking his mane of curls.

“Shit, actually, there’s something I don’t know about you. When is your birthday?”

Swallowing the thick mass of carbs, you slyly redirect your gaze to the quickly-emptying plastic basket before you, picking at a few deep-fried crumbs.

“Next week…” You pray to the heavens your admission was mumbled low enough for Eddie to catch it as some ambiguous month in the distant future. But it seems the years of heavy metal assaulting his ear drums has done little to subdue his sense of hearing.

“Next week?!” Theatrically, Eddie slams his soda down on the picnic table, likely taking off some of the tragic peeling paint in the process. He looks positively incredulous, brows raised to maximum height behind his bangs. “And you’ve been keeping this a secret, why?”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret! I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal-“

“Not that big of a-“ Fingers splayed on the periwinkle blue wood, he braces himself forward with a deep inhale. “Sweetheart, now I’m gonna have to plan a big bash in less than a week. How could you do this to me?”

As if it’s the biggest inconvenience he’s ever encountered. Chuckling nervously, you wave your hands in a flurry before his deadpan expression.

“Oh no, absolutely not. Uh-uh, not happening.”

“But-”

“Eddie.” Your tone is firm, gaze boring into his. “I’m turning twenty, it’s not even an exciting number. Plus, I have a baby, in case you forgot. Not sure how many nightclubs would let the pair of us in. If it means that much to you, I’ll have you and some of the kids over for a movie. That’s my limit, though.”

Eddie huffs, resolving himself to defeat. “Fine. No strippers, then.”

“Oh, now that you mention strippers…” A grin takes over your face as you waggle a fry in his face, likely sending salt fragments onto Eddie’s shirt. Before you can bring it to your awaiting mouth, he swats the perfectly good fast food out of your hand, sending it catapulting to the ground for some poor, underpaid teenager to clean up later.

“Party in your mouth, huh?” He quips, stealing the larger of the two potato sticks stuck to the paper lining the basket. He pops it into his mouth with a grin, shooting you a suggestive look.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

The energy between the two of you is so, so easy. You sip your cool soda, indulging in the sugary carbonation clinging to your teeth. Eddie does the same, studying a terribly constructed pyramid situated on one of the holes. No pressure to speak, or not speak, just basking in the glow of one another’s company. The air is cool under the downlights, a mild spring evening setting the scene for what a true date night should look like.

“I’ve gotta ask-” You begin through a mouthful of food, somewhat unceremoniously. “- how’d you get so good at mini golf? I just wouldn’t expect you to be the kind of guy to spend his free time at a place like this.”

“Ooft, judging a book by its cover, are we?” Eddie places his drink back on the picnic table, grinning beneath the fluorescent snack bar sign. 

“Oh, never. Heavy metal and putt-putt go hand in hand, as far as I’m concerned.”

Eddie shakes his head, grinning while he peers down at the condensation accumulating on the metal can.

“I, uh- I used to bring Dustin out here.”

“Dustin? Really?”

“Yep.” There’s a loaded silence between the pair of you, something that isn’t uncommon as you exchange stories of your past. “After, um- y’know, everything happened. He kind of… shut down. A bit like you did, for a while. Didn’t want to play DnD, or see anybody, really. So this one day, I just drove over to his place and dragged him out of bed saying ‘C’mon, butthead. I’m taking you outta town’. He kicked up a bit of a fuss, but I just sort of army-marched him out the front door. We drove around for a while, not really talking and stumbled on this place. He shot me that stupid grin of his for the first time in forever, so we came in. It sort of became a weekly thing after that, and I hate to admit that I actually enjoyed it after a while.”

Swirling a fry around in too much ketchup, your meal is all but forgotten as you find yourself enthralled by Eddie’s recollection. That all too familiar pang of sadness returns, regret manifesting quickly in your body. You wish you were there for Dustin. You should have been. You wish you were stronger earlier, able to provide him with the care he so desperately needed. In the past few months, you’ve watched the teenager really step up, busying himself with baby books in order to be the best ‘uncle’ he could be. He’s a close second behind Eddie when it comes to making Audrey smile, lapping up every second he gets with her. God, Steve would be so proud of him.

“He’s a good kid, even if he’s an annoying little shit sometimes. And Steve…” His thought trails off, running his finger around the edge of the soda can. “... Steve was good for him. Gave him someone to look up to, a role model sort-of. Almost like a big brother, I guess. So I didn’t mind running around a shitty mini-golf course with a creepy beaver sign if it made him happy.”

Abandoning your meal, you reach across the table to take Eddie’s hand in yours. The tips of his fingers are cold from the refrigerated beverage, and you wrap your palm around the icy skin with warm reassurance. 

“You’re a good man, Eddie.”

Eddie’s lips curve into the most imperceptible smile, humble and felt almost entirely inward. For a fleeting second, he wonders if that could be true. 

Eddie was meant to drive you straight home. The roads were quiet at this time of night, no traffic bar the occasional truck making its way in the opposite direction of the small town he unfortunately called home. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this full. Not literally, of course, given you guzzled down the majority of hot food before he had a chance to get to it. But it didn’t matter, not the slightest. 

He felt proud. 

Proud while he watched you dig through the bucket of tees, looking for the perfect Barbie pink one that wasn’t chipped or dirty. Proud of his excellent golfing form, thankful for all the practice he’d gotten through restless evenings with Henderson. Proud of the way you jumped up and down, hands raised to the heavens as you sank your shot in half the time it had taken you on every other hole. Proud of how he scooped you into his arms, like every cheesy rom-com he’d had the displeasure of watching. Proud of the part he had to play in your happiness. Proud to be seen with you.

He was meant to drive you straight home.

He had every intention of doing so. 

Satiated with pride, he could resolve to spend the remainder of his evening grinning stupidly to himself in the isolation of his room. The humble home across the trailer park suddenly feels closer, anyway. Until, your hand snaked its way across the center console onto his thigh, your touch feather light but the weight heavy. For a brief moment, he wonders if you reached for something but overshot, a simple mistake. And then, you linger. Fingernails scratching the course denim clinging to his legs, shockwaves sent down his skin with every delicate stroke. Absent-minded. Loaded.

He knew the stakes had just been raised.

The two of you had been close like this dozens of times before, particularly in your pregnancy. Eddie never saw the need for one of those pregnancy pillows advertised on late-night infomercials, when you apparently saw him as the perfect substitute. Back then, those exchanges meant almost nothing. A tiny back scratch here and there, drawing small circles on your forearm while you dozed off with your entire body weight pressed to his shoulder. Thoughtless interactions, designed purely to comfort and set you at ease. The familiarity that has perhaps always existed between the pair of you, now morphing into something new.

Thumb smoothing the faded-black material, tiny rotations etched over and over.

Hypnotic.

The bravery that overtook him was phantom, ghostly desire edging his knee ever so slightly further in your direction. As if to say please, don’t stop. I’m right here. His eyes remain firmly locked onto the dark road, using only the occasional streetlight to guide his path. Besides, he doesn’t need to look at you to feel your gaze on his cheek. Not that he could bring himself to, if he tried. He wonders if he blacked out earlier. Got hit in the head with a rogue club and passed out, ascending to a heaven in which he would be fortunate enough to experience such a sensation. Heart pounding in his chest, he lets out an unsteady exhale as your fingers snake deeper into the groove, caressing at more sensitive flesh. Inward, where the skin is far more sensitive. 

Eddie isn’t a greedy man.

Until he is.

“Baby…” The foreign pet name slips out as a moan, barely perceivable beneath the soft hum of the cassette’s tune filling the car at a low volume. Somehow, in those two syllables alone, he crosses a line. Bares his soul to the wolves, knowing well the potential ramifications, the bloodshed that follows vulnerability.

The digging of your fingernails into the meaty flesh at his utterance is his breaking point. The green light he sought out. With cautious fervourency, he pulls off the road quickly, wheels clattering along the asphalt excuse for a truck stop. The car is quickly clicked into park before the metalhead can cognise it, tearing the constricting seatbelt off his body. Your hand never leaves its spot.

Turning to you, wide-eyed with want, he pauses. Gives himself whiplash from the flurry of activity leading to the sudden stillness. It’s intrinsic, no need for words anymore. Redundant wastes of breath.

His lungs hitch, adrenaline pulsing in the tips of his fingers. 

Can we?

Lips parted ever so slightly, a rise of your chest and dazed fluttering of eyelids answers.

Yes.

It’s not clear who lunges first. What is clear is how your bodies instinctively shape around one another, quick to absolve the space between you. Lips collide with lips, desperately seeking respite. Wanton moans are pulled effortlessly, fistfuls of hair tangled in clammy fingers drawing the two of you impossibly close. Imperfect fumblings as shirts are clutched desperately, fueling the fire burning in the pits of Eddie’s stomach. The pace is entirely unsteady, soft brushes bleeding into firm tugs of teeth piercing tender flesh with just the right amount of force. Embarrassing, unadulterated need at the forefront of every motion, and neither of you cared. God, it’s almost perverse. How Eddie corrupts something so soft, so sweet, with every fevered kiss. Like he’s tainting you with his taste, as if he could lap enough of you up and absolve his unworthiness. The likelihood of that working is slim, but god damn Eddie is willing to try. 

It’s still not enough. 

The plastic console separating you is driving him mad. He needs to be able to grab, clutch, caress every square inch of you with no obstructions. You make him bold. 

Bold enough to slip his wandering hand beneath your far thigh, the smallest hithering motion enough to feel the weight shift above his palm. Unceremoniously, you clamber over the glove box after unclipping your seatbelt, haphazardly swinging your foot into the horn. The beep echoes through the isolated rest stop, a mumbled apology being quickly swallowed by Eddie’s lips. Blindly guided, he directs your knees to either side of his hips, showing no qualms with the limited driver’s side legroom. His hands find your hips, tentatively hovering above his lap, shaky thighs taking the brunt of your weight. With small, caressing circles of your hip bone, he soothes you as he always has. Encourages you to share the pressure, begging to be the bearer of it. No wrong answer, only whatever you’re comfortable with. Perfect the way you are. 

Ringed fingers press gently into the small of your waist, drawing you closer still to his body. This seems to encourage you to relent to your tiring muscles, finding solace on Eddie’s tense thighs. A safe distance, but so close to danger. To unbridled want. Neither of you care.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as you speckle kisses along his cheek, dancing down his jawline and finding sanctuary on his neck. Nipping slightly at his pulse point, he can’t help but squeeze a bit tighter. Relishing in your exploration, mentally mumbling Hail Mary’s for his good deeds from past lives that lead him to this euphoria. A gasp escapes his throat as you latch onto a particularly sensitive spot, causing his hands to seek refuge on the meat of your hips. He squeezes, eliciting a similar wanton moan that vibrates against his stubbled skin.

“Is- is this good?” A sentence loaded with various meanings tumbles out, his grip loosening slightly. 

“Mmm.” You murmur, tracing the familiar trail back along his jaw and to his aching lips. “So good. So good to me, always.”

A knot forms in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. So good. So good. For you. That’s all he’s ever wanted to be. It fucking underscores every day, trying to do right by you. Constantly trying. He lives for it. For the smiles, the exhales of safety, the reassurance, the comfort…

It’s gotten him more hooked than a drug ever could.

So why. 

Why can’t he accept it?

The praise, the love, everything you dish out effortlessly. But to want and to deserve are very different things, the latter being something that Eddie factually knows he is not entitled to. 

It returns, a tidal wave of despair crashing over his heart, encasing it in a riptide of emotional debris and darkness. The taunting ticking of the second hand that haunts him constantly, the grip on his happiness slipping…

“Hey.” He gasps out, ringed fingers grazing your cheek as he pulls away. So close still he can see the flushed-red outline of your lips, the blissed out expression in your eyes quickly morphing to concern.

“Shit, you okay?” You pull back, brushing a loose curl out of the frame of his face.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” A stabilizing breath does little to quell the erratic beating of his heart. “Just- maybe we should, like, take things a bit slower? I- I just don’t want all this to be too much, too fast.”

Brows furrowing slightly, it’s hard to miss the minute disappointment reflected across your face.

“Oh. No, yeah, of course.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, your unoccupied hands take to fidgeting with your now-loose blouse. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get carried away…”

“No, no-” Eddie reassures, a smile growing on his sore lips despite the gnawing ache in his chest. “Fuck, you were- it was perfect.”

A bashful grin cuts through the nerves etched into your skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” God, you make him too bold. Cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he dips forward to steal another miss from you. “Just want to do things right. Be a gentleman and all that.”

“You? A gentleman? Since when?” You poke.

“Since always.” The tone returns to easy as always, if not charged with a certain afterglow of electricity.

“So, what’s the next step in the courting ritual then?”

“Dunno. Guess I’ll have to pull off a grand gesture of some kind.”

Thursday afternoon, counting down the minutes until the clock strikes 5pm and frees you from this grind. Happy fucking birthday to you. 

Robin has been fussing over you non-stop for the past 24 hours. Apparently, a little birdie told her about your upcoming birthday (something you’d diligently kept private), sending her into a frenzy. She insisted on at least taking you out for dinner to celebrate your birthday at Benny’s, and practically stuffed her version of appropriate birthday attire into a duffle bag this morning for you to change into post-shift. In all her festive glory, she returned from her lunch break with a pink-frosting covered cupcake and tried to involve no less than three customers in a group rendition of Happy Birthday that was less than successful. And despite the unwarranted theatrics, you can’t deny your gratitude. Seeing how she dotes on you, dedicating her every movement that day to your happiness. And frankly, it’s not dissimilar to every other day. The love, the care that the two of you feel for eachother simply heightened for your first day of your twenties. Luck has never been a word you’d use to describe your life, but today, it feels fitting.

Keith has been goaded into closing the shop up solo tonight, Robin sparing no detail of the utmost importance to this diner dinner. She’d also arranged for Eddie to bring Audrey along, clocking in around 12 total hours of unpaid babysitting and a bushel of brownie points. Then, once the grown-ups have hung out, some of the younger kids will bike to the trailer park for a late-night movie. Spending the remaining hours of your birthday with everyone you love.

The small bathroom cubicle adjoining the workroom is cluttered with makeup and clothes, the two of you primping yourself in privacy. Tonight’s outfit of choice appears to be a band tee, tied at the waist with a flowing maxi-skirt, clashing in your mind but makes sense to Robin, apparently. To level the playing field, she dug out some of your nicer boots for the occasion. Internally, you worry for Audrey, and how it’ll be once Robin realizes she has two life-sized Barbie dolls to dress up. But secretly, you like it. It feels very you, whatever that means now. Comfort meets expression, an identity crafted beyond Mom.

Smiling at yourself through the rusty bathroom mirror, Robin swipes on her mascara.

“How do you feel? Older and wiser yet?” Robin asks, eyes bugged out in concentration.

“More of the former, I’d say.” You chuckle.

“What about the outfit? I felt pretty proud of it, very rocker-chic meets fairy princess.”

“It’s great, Rob. All of it.” Lips pursing together in an emotional smile, you drink in the image before you. You look your age. No dark circles or fine lines present, concealed under just the right amount of makeup. Hair just the way you like it, not confined to a three-day-old ponytail. You recognise her, from another life. The girl you used to be. And she’s so happy to see you.

Robin shoves the mascara tube into her tote bag, throwing it over her shoulder. “Ready to hit the road?”

With a nod, you hold the door open for her, the imposing fluorescents of the video store coming back into view. 

“Oh, nearly forgot. We’ve gotta make a pit stop along the way, if that’s alright with you?” Following her trail, the two of you burst out the front doors and into the brisk evening towards your Pinto.

“Sure.” You reply. “Just lead the way.”

“Robin, where the hell are we?” Glancing around one of the seedier streets of Hawkins, you shrug your handbag a little closer under your armpit and remind yourself that you did, in fact, lock your car. It’s fairly innocuous, an assortment of goods shops and a vintage record store, but you’ve never ventured this far into the heartland. Robin is a few paces before you, studying the signs of various closed businesses along the road. Her face lights up as you approach one particular building. 

“Bada-boom.” She announces with a proud grin, stopping in front of a large, black building. The paint is sun-faded, lined with scratched-off band posters graffitied with lewd scribbles. Against the dark sky, your only indication of the name etched into the doorway awning comes in the form of a passing car blaring its lights.

“The Hideout?” It rang a bell, yet you could not work out for the life of you what the two of you were doing here. “Dude, is this a nightclub? It’s a Thursday!”

“Not exactly…” Her brazen smile makes you slightly nervous. “More of a live music venue. I’ve just gotta pick something up from here, then we’ll be off to dinner. ‘Kay?”

“Alright, maybe I’ll just wait outside-” “No!” Robin quickly clears her throat. “I mean- I’m not leaving you out here on these mean street all alone without me to protect you.”

Shooting you a bright smile, you have to take at face value that she’s being entirely serious right now. Locking her arm through yours, she urges your unwilling feet further to the entrance.

“Is it even-” Answering your half-finished question, Robin pushes open the door to the venue, the interior pitch-black. “Are we even allowed to be here?”

“Yes, dingus! Just c’mon…” Once again, you’re placing literal blind faith into your closest friend. She might as well have tied Eddie’s bandana over your eyes as she did at Christmas, nothing but the slightly sticky floor beneath you to guide you forwards into oblivion. Her arm is your liferaft, swimming through pitch-black waters towards god knows what. In the distance, you hear a strange scuffling of feet, not belonging to either you or your co-worker. It sends chills down your spine, suddenly feeling very out of your depth. It’s disorienting, and totally alien.

“Seriously, Robin. Can we-” Your hushed tone is directed to the girl beside you, who stops in her tracks. You plant yourself beside her, the strangest feeling of being able to make a figure out through the void before you. A fleeting moment of movement, another shuffle of shoes on tacky wood ground. 

And in the flash of an eye, brightness burns your retinas, momentarily blinding you. It forces you to squint, a desperate attempt to identify these unfamiliar surroundings. A spotlight of sorts bears down on you before Robin quickly releases you from her vice grip and jumps to the side. But as one sense is returned, another is quickly abused, a raucous sound brutalizing your eardrums.

“Surprise!” Numerous voices call out at the top of their voices, unable to be individually dissected amongst the barrage of confetti poppers bursting into the sky. As your eyes grow accustomed to the warm spotlights around the venue, you make out familiar shapes. A mess of scruffy curls buried beneath a baseball cap. Two young boys with arms slung around one another jumping up and down, perfectly manicured bangs flinging haphazardly. The flash of a camera you’d borrowed months ago. There’s only a few of them, but their energy fills the space tenfold. 

And, at the center, you see a lean figure with a Kirk Hamlett haircut raise a squirming lump high above his head, not unlike a certain Disney movie that wouldn’t come out for another good eight or so years. Eddie, in what can only be described as his best cut-off band tee, proudly holds Audrey high above the group, her chunky legs bunched up to her body as she looks around entirely confused. As the last syllable of their celebration dies off, as if on cue, Audrey’s face screws up in a dramatic pout, a loud cry echoing through the venue at a volume the others only could hope to have achieved. Eddie’s face quickly transforms to worry, eyes squinting with embarrassment.

“Oh, fu-” Eddie quickly lowers her, cradling her head towards his collarbone. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you, Squid.” 

Shushing her and pacing a step towards you, he bounces your baby from side to side. Her cries begin to lull, her fist tucked tightly at his clavicle for emotional support. Likely giving his neck a few scratches from her razor-sharp fingernails, she clings to the neckline of his shirt like a spider monkey, pulling it down with a subdued whimper and revealing one of his tattoos.

“Eddie? What-” You’re stunned. Shell-shocked from the sudden onslaught of sensation and attention, closing the space between you and the metalhead.

“How’s this for a grand gesture?” Spinning on his heel, Dustin rushes over to present a frosting-covered monstrosity on the bar. The icing is baby pink, with large globs that could be letters on top, with a handful of mismatched candles shoved into the floury concoction.

“Ta-da!” The younger boy grins, fixing one of the especially lop-sided candles. “Sorry it’s nothing special, I didn’t have much time to work on it…”

“You- you threw me a birthday party?” You ask, wide-eyed to Eddie.

“Ah-” He raises a finger, readjusting the subdued baby in his arms. “A surprise birthday party. In case you missed the keyword over the little hellraiser's scene-stealing cry.”

That familiar feeling returns. Overwhelmed by love and eyes solely on you. A small pile of presents sits on one of the bar tables, along with a few cards. Far more modest than the endowment you received from the group months earlier. Smiling faces, slightly tentative as they attempt to interpret your expression. But that thumping in your chest is not from anxiety this time. It’s from an overflowing sense of gratitude. 

A teary smile takes over your face, rushing to embrace Eddie and Audrey in a tight bear hug. The baby nestled between you burbles and squirms, and you raise your lips to the shell of Eddie’s ear to whisper a heartfelt “thank-you”.

The party is in full swing. Of the faces huddled in groups around the intimate venue, you initially only recognise half of them. Mike, Lucas and Will order root beer from the bar under Eddie’s strict supervision, not wanting any wasted minors on his track record. Dustin and Erica are engaged in a heated conversation with a few older boys, each of them wearing shirts printed with the name Corroded Coffin. You’d only crossed paths with them a handful of times at campaign nights, but they shared Eddie’s welcoming nature, trying to involve you in their conversation about elves or something. Nancy and Robin were trying to liven up the dance floor, which mostly involved Nancy swaying to the beat and Robin putting on a full-scale musical number around her. With Audrey not in the arms of any of her allocated babysitter’s arms, there was only one place left to search. Jonathan was taking a picture of the group in the adjacent booth, El and Max grinning either side of an unfamiliar face. His long, dark hair proved most entertaining for the infant on his lap, a glazed-over expression dancing in his red-rimmed eyes. 

“Woah, woah! That’s not for playing with, little dudette. Try this instead, I know it keeps me entertained.” From his Hawaiian shirt pocket, he pulls out a small set of keys, passing them to Audrey’s greedy fingers. She squeals, flinging the keys up and down in delight.

“God, she’s so cute.” El gushes, smoothing her pint-sized overalls over her legs.

“I know, right. She looks so much like Steve, it’s insane.” Max affirms. “Alright, Argyle. Quit hogging her.”

The redhead scoops her hands around Audrey’s waist, bringing her up to eye level with a cooing expression. 

“You know they’re born without kneecaps? How gnarly is that?” Argyle states, turning to El with complete sincerity.

“No way that’s true.” Max shoots the older boy a signature dead-pan look, readjusting Audrey in her arms, who is now getting a good amount of drool on the keychain.

“Swear on my life! I read it somewhere, they’re born without propellers.”

“You mean patellas?” El corrects.

“Yeah, that’s the one! Or maybe it’s dogs I’m thinking of…”

It’s beautiful, watching over your own party as a voyeur. An event that has brought together all of the closest people in your life, the common thread being you. It makes you sick with love.

“How’re you enjoying the event, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice reaches you before he does, a glass of tan-colored liquid in hand.

“It’s perfect, really.” You reply with a grin. “All that’s missing are the Jell-o shots.”

“Gonna treat us to another Flashdance number?” Cheeks flushing over his statement, you stammer a response.

“How- how did you…”

“Don’t think I’d forget a spectacle like that.” He winks, a devilish grin spread across his lips. “Livened up that night’s dealings, that’s for sure.”

It’s strange, remembering a time before this. A time when Eddie was just a face in the crowd, Steve the undisputed King of Hawkins, and you with no clue what the coming years held in store. It feels like a lifetime ago, and simultaneously feels like an eternity you’ve spent with this eclectic family by your side.

“Getting on the beers tonight, Munson?” You tap a nail against the edge of his glass teasingly.

“Nah, confiscated Henderson’s root beer for my own selfish purposes.”

“You’re not gonna have a celebratory drink with me tonight?” Eddie shakes his head.

“Don’t think so, sweetheart. Sounds a bit cliche, but I feel weird drinking around Squid. Just don’t want to be the kind of guy who does that around a baby, makes me feel like my dad or something.”

You swear your heart swells to three times its normal size. He might be the most considerate man you’ve ever met.

“Besides…” Eddie continues, pointing to the Hellfire boys. “... don’t want to be a mess on stage for the grand finale of the night.”

You gasp, mock excitement written all over your expression. “Strippers?!”

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Maybe later, if you ask nicely.”

He did it.

Eddie pulled it off. From the house-shaking rendition of Happy Birthday, to the (in his humble opinion) absolutely killer set courtesy of Corroded Coffin, to shuttling the younger kids home before the bar opened to the public. He fucking did it. He did good.

The dingy bar is now filled with the usual patrons, the bouncers not bothering to check the ID’s of the occupants inside who could pass for being over 21. Last he saw you, you were dancing arm in arm with Robin and Nancy, screaming Everybody Wants to Rule The World at the top of your lungs. He’d never seen you so free, so vibrant. Moving like no one was watching, twirling and laughing and holding your friends. Just as you deserved to be. A twenty-year-old for one night, before another 364 days devoted to being a mom.

The cool breeze is welcoming, soothing his warm skin under the clear night sky. Stars swimming in the endless expanse of night, delicate kisses of light kissing the pitch-black veil. He can breathe. It used to be suffocating, looking up at the infinite nothing. It would clog Eddie’s throat, choking him in bleak nothingness. Wrap him in a coat of terror, a black mirror designed to play back every fateful mistake of his miserable life. Now, it welcomes him. And he isn’t afraid to embrace it. Baby steps, learning to love the dark parts of his being.

In his arms, he rocks Squid back and forth gently. She’s long since dozed off, the burden of being the life of the party clearly hung too heavy on her tiny shoulders. On her ears sit the smallest fluffy earmuffs, an investment courtesy of Dustin just for tonight. She was the best little groupie he could have asked for. At one point, Robin brought her onstage and placed her feet on the ground, bopping her up and down to the music. The crowd roared, and she giggled and squealed like she was the headliner act. Might have shown the band up, honestly. Eddie didn’t mind.

He’s getting better at stealing moments with her. Giving into his need to dote on her unabashedly. He could stare at her for a lifetime, and that wouldn’t be enough. He needs to imprint in his mind the way her eyelids flutter when she sleeps, commit to memory the O-shape of her mouth when she lets out a sleepy yawn. He wants to record her laugh, keep it forever. He wants every waking second to be dedicated to her.

“Have a good night, Squid?” He mumbles, lightly stroking the bridge of her nose. “Not bad for your first party, eh? Just you wait until your birthday. All of this will look like child’s play.”

Squid wriggles restlessly, burrowing into Eddie’s chest. Against his sternum, he can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, the tiny grunts of sleep deep in her lungs. It makes him grin like a mad-man.

“Y’know, I’m gonna let you in on a secret.” He readjusts her carefully in his arms, hushing his tone slightly. “I think- I think you and your mom are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

His words hang heavy in the still air, the empty alleyway the only recipient to his confession.

“Can you believe I was scared of you? Of these tiny hands-” He tickles her palm with his pointer finger, the baby clasping around it instinctually with unbridled strength. “- and these little feet. God, I’m pretty stupid, aren’t I? You can tell me, I won’t be offended. But, I’ll tell you something, just between you and me. There are much scarier things out there. And I’m not talking about monsters or alternate dimensions, although I do promise to protect you from that, cross my heart.” He raises his free hand to his heart, as if the sleeping infant would know any different.

“In this big, bad world, I think the scariest thing is to be alone. And I’m gonna make sure you never feel that way, if I can help it.”

Eddie is rambling, word vomit spilling past his lips faster than he can contain it. No scapegoat of weed or alcohol to blame his honesty on. He gently rocks Squid back and forth, the motion soothing both of them. 

“Y’know, I know you’re not mine. But-” Teeth bite down on the inside of his cheek, fingers pulling down her overalls. “- I dunno, it kinda feels like you’re mine in my heart.”

With a deep exhale, Eddie allows his honesty to wash over him in all its brutal glory. Knee-buckingly raw, and he leans into it, for once. Allows the love to pump through his veins with every beat of his cynical heart, waking up parts of him he thought were gone for good. But the moment of solitude doesn’t last long before Robin comes barreling out of the back door, almost crashing into the nearby trash cans.

“Shit, sorry. Did I wake her?” She apologizes, sloshing her half-finished gin and tonic onto the pavement.

“Nah, you’re in luck. Squid’s out like a light.” He pulls out another milk crate, beckoning the tipsy liability over. “Having fun in there?”

“Yeah, yeah- I am.” It’s a half thought, words dancing on the tip of her tongue not ready to be spoken yet. “The kids get home alright?”

“Eventually, had to drag most of them out by the end. Henderson wanted to hide in the bathroom and then ‘blend in with the older crowd’.”

“Wonder where he learnt that one from.” Robin smiles, nudging the metalhead.

“Hey, don’t look at me. Wasn’t my doing, for once…”

“Mmm…” She replies, taking a swig of her mixed spirit. Staring down at the lime slice, she swishes the glass around as if deep in thought. Glazed eyes laced with melancholy, radiating off her being.

“Something on your mind?” Eddie asks, angling his body more in her direction.

Robin’s mouth screws up as if she’s tasted something bitter, unable to bring her gaze to meet the man before her. But he doesn’t need to look her in the eyes to see the tears swelling on her waterline, quivering with her next sentence. 

“We have to tell her…” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, suppressed anxiety trickling in with every syllable. 

Eddie feels his blood run cold, the familiar pang of dread hanging low in his stomach. He shakes his head defiantly.

“Not tonight, Rob. Please…” The plea is firm, fraying at the edges. Not ready to face the inevitable.

“No, no. Not tonight, but it needs to be soon.”

“Can we please not do this right now?” Eddie doesn’t mean to be so forceful with his words, but fear is a powerful thing. It poisons his blood, pushed further through his system with every erratic beat of his heart.

Robin’s eyes continue to well up with stinging tears, her grip on the glass tightening. “The guilt is eating me alive, Eddie. I just… I don’t know how to do it.”

Eddie sighs, desperate to keep what little control he possesses. 

“We need to do it the right way, got it? You, me, Henderson and her. We can all sit down and…” Robin runs her hand through her hair with exasperation at Eddie’s suggestion. Even the gentlest of options sounds like a monumental task. “Just give it a bit more time…”

“There is no more time!” She retorts, her volume loud enough for her to quickly glance down at the sleeping baby to make sure she didn’t wake her.

Eddie stands up, readjusting Squid in his arms. He’s doing his best to stay calm, and not let the inevitable spiral begin, a fruitless battle. “I’m not doing this right now, okay?”

The liquid courage is working wonders on Robin right now, standing up to face the metalhead eye-to-eye. “Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way, Eddie. You know as well as I do that she has a right to know.”

Eddie’s mouth is open and ready to voice another stern reply, when it’s interrupted by a meek voice behind him. The soft tone does little to soothe the ache growing in his abdomen, not daring to look over his shoulder at the source. 

“I have a right to know what?”

Haze. 

Disorder. 

Stumbling your way through the overbearing smog flooding your consciousness. Gripping to the worn sofa in your living room like it’s a buoy, the only thing grounding you in painful reality.

It’s fragmented, the onslaught of new information cluttering your mind, unable to be sifted through logically.

Owens.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you’ve lost all faith in your legs to keep you upright. Sea legs giving out beneath you, collapsing under the weight of a burdened mind. You quickly put Audrey in her bassinet the second you arrived home, stepping back from her small body like she was made of fire. Delicate, precious, amidst the crumbling ruins of life.

Found.

No. 

No, you need someone to cling onto. Polyester beneath your fingernails can never compare to flesh and blood, pumping with life and hope and comfort. Oh god. Craving arms, muscle and sinew engulfing your body, soothing and shushing like you’ve done with your baby countless times. Desperate for the luxury of kindness.

No one to dote. 

No one to care. 

No one to witness the mortifying pain of existence. 

No one to observe the torment they cursed you with in the first place.

Steve.

Crawling up your throat like bile, burning your esophagus as hot lava. You’d welcome the respite of vomit, the substance of it, the satisfaction of exorcism. But no, the painful tar claws its way through your tract, bringing biting tears to your eyes. Hell manifesting in your being. Truth collapsing with a heavy hearted I’m so sorry, bouncing off the walls of the narrow alleyway while you retreated. Words spilling out helplessly from your loose tongue, rage of betrayal driving every consonant and syllable. To never see you again, let alone speak to you. 

The loss of everyone, everyone. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, fuck- Eddie. They all knew. They coaxed you through the loss, never allowing for hope to breed. Lies built on mountains of lies, a shamble foundation of friendship. Arms that held your daughter with gentleness and altruism, seemingly all fabricated. Tainting her with every touch, every smile, tongues bleeding as they bit back the truth. Too numb to cry, to even indulge in the agony of feeling.

Beginnings are special, because most of them are fake. Artificial and man-made, entirely composed of brain chemistry and justifications. The person you become after your first glass of wine was already there, fretting below the surface of your facade, chipping away at the mask you present to the world. They never left.

You are at the end of beginning.

[the-s1lly-corner]

I’m hoping this is the inbox- pls help I’m used to just reading what’s in the tags on tumblr and never requesting anything 🥹

I hope you’re having an amazing day/night/whatever time of day it is for you-!!! I just found your blog and I am so happy I did!! I’ve been binge reading it but the fact that I found someone who writes for Creepypasta???? I’m??? In luv??? (platonically ofc) may I request some LJ with a fem!reader who has bpd and he’s their fp, carries his little music box everywhere she goes and always “talks” to him in public, not caring about any crazy looks she gets from people?

Also politely asking to be 🩶 anon (if you’re taking any ofc-)

Laughing Jack x fem!reader w/ BPD who has him as her FP!

UEUEUEUE im so happy to hear you love my writing sm ehehehe! always thrilled to hear people enjoying my stuff/that it makes them happy! i hope you enjoy this, i havent written a reader with BPD before so i hope this is decent! also also youre doing wonderful; requesting i mean! i dont think theres many rules against how youre meant to request (every blog is different though!!)

honestly i think hes genuinely thrilled to be taken around and about with you in his little box! usually hes sitting in his box waiting for an unfortunate soul to take it home; its been like this for... a while now... so actually being able to go around and see things is a nice change of pace! plus it makes him feel more included in your life rather than just being an "at home friend"

i think in the beginning youre going to have to ask him to pipe down a little since he might talk a little too loud... like near yelling because hes just so excited

loves helping you shop :)! quick heads up though he might beg you to buy stuff you guys dont need

general silly ideas aside, i think hed be chattering the entire time so you two probably always have a conversation going on whenever you guys are out

probably sneers at people who give you looks tbh, will probably trip them if they decide to be a little ruder and mutter something under their breath while theyre passing by you... i mean they cant prove anything! they just tripped on air! jack totally didnt swipe one of his long arms out and tug their ankle back!

the only downside is that jack cant do much outside of talking and sneaking stuff around since him just fully popping out his box might blow his cover, you know? doesnt mean he doesnt have the urge to jump out when he sees you getting a little stressed out or overwhelmed about your surroundings or when someone is being particularly cruel

though i dont doubt hes remembering faces; i mean at the end of the day hes still a clown that specializes in torment, do i really need to say what hes cooking up in his brain?

no in cases where you're beginning to struggle hes probably going to try to quietly urge you to disconnect and take a breather

keeps your favorite candies on him at all times and slips them into your hand, probably does the same to any stress/fidget toys you may or may not have.. though i do hc he can just materialize certain things and i can easily see that sort of thing falling into something he can just yoink into existence

very good at reassuring you of your worth and how much you mean to him; this is a general thing but i think he makes it more of a point if self image is something you particularly struggle with

who would have thunk it, the clown with abandonment issues is good at reassuring others that hes not going to go anywhere

[softxsuki]

i love the aesthetic of your blog so much and you’re an incredibly talented writer!! your works are super comforting to me and i always look forward to seeing them in my feed. i’ve read your note as well & you’re so thoughtful trying to create content for people having a tough time. i appreciate you! :)

i was wondering if you could do something with jean kirschtein helping a reader fall asleep and/or just being comforting and taking care of them when they’re sad or not feeling well/fatigued? i would love to see this as a oneshot and leaning romantic and fem!reader but as the writer please take the liberty to do what’s easiest or most comfortable for you!! i saw you have a lot of requests pending so if you can’t get to this, i completely understand and no worries!! thank u so much <33 have a wonderful week 🤍

Jean Helps S/O Fall Asleep

Pairing: Jean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight kissing, feeling anxious, not being able to sleep

Genre: Fluff, Comfort (kinda)

Post-Type: Oneshot (surprisingly)

Word Count: 1k

Summary: In which you sneak to the men's barracks to find Jean after struggling to fall asleep at night

[A/N: Oh wow hi! Thank you so much for the compliment. My blog theme is different now, but I hope you still like it JEKAFE. I finally got to your request, I just hope you're still around to read it (lemme know if you are <3) I hope I did alright. For some reason I suck so bad at writing for Jean. I'm working on it though T-T. Hope you're doing well, enjoy <3]

It was dark as light snores filled the room; yet you were still very much awake. No matter how long you kept your eyes closed, sleep never came. Was it the anxiety that filled your heart, wondering when you’d all have to go into action? Or was it the little issues in your life that kept popping back into your mind, making you restless? There were an endless number of possibilities, yet you couldn’t pinpoint which one it was exactly. For all you knew it could have been a mixture of all those things and more.

It was way past curfew and you knew going to the men’s barracks would probably get you into a lot of trouble if Levi or any of your other superiors caught you, but you needed to see your boyfriend, Jean. Having met him through the Survey Corps, you’d been together for a few years now and Jean very quickly became the one you relied on the most. If anyone could help bring peace to your restless mind so you could get some sleep, it would be him. So, you sneak out of your bed, careful not to wake Sasha who was asleep in the bunk above you; she’d definitely be too loud if you woke her accidentally. 

Slipping on your boots, you sneak out of the woman’s barracks and head towards the men’s barracks which wasn’t too far away, though you had to avoid being spotted from a few soldiers that were keeping watch, nothing crazy though. You could feel your heart beating in your chest, anxious to be caught, yet desperate and excited to be in Jean’s arms. 

As soon as you successfully make it into the men’s barracks, you head straight for Jean’s bed. Thankfully he had a lower bunk so you wouldn’t have to worry about climbing up a ladder to get to him. The smell of man hits your nose, making you scrunch your nose slightly–it wasn’t the most pleasant scent, but it would have to do. 

When you spot Jean, he’s peacefully asleep, and you debate whether you should wake him up or not. He worked hard during the day, carrying heavy items around the base and training so he can always be in his best condition when the time comes. You felt guilty–why couldn’t you just handle this alone? There was no reason to bother him about it and ruin his own rest. You sigh before turning back around to go back to your own barracks, when a voice stops you.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” It was Jean.

Turning back around, you see him sitting up now with his eyes opened slightly as he watches you.

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep, baby,” you whisper to him and go to continue walking away, but you feel him grab your arm and pull you into his bed. 

“C’mon, tell me. I know you didn’t just come here to watch me sleep and then leave. Unless you did, that would be really weird,” he jokes, speaking softly as to not awaken the guys around him.

You crack a smile at that. Already you were feeling a little less anxious and more relaxed than you were in your own bed. Leaning back into his chest as his arms wrap around you, he holds you tightly, waiting for you to speak.

“I just…couldn’t sleep,” you admit, feeling a little childish now that you said it out loud. So what if you couldn’t sleep? Was that any reason to go running to him? (um yes, duh)

But Jean thought otherwise. “Then I better fix that, huh?” You can hear the smile in his tone as he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Come lie down.”

And you do. Squished together on the tiny twin bed, you both lie down, while Jean keeps his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close into his chest as he presses several kisses to your face now, leaving the last kiss on your lips with a hum. 

“Close your eyes and take deep breaths,” he instructs quietly, his fingers running mindlessly through your hair, leaning in a little further every now and then to massage your scalp in hope to help you relax. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe, you’re loved, and most importantly, you have me here to hold you.”

Deciding to listen to him, yet already feeling a lot more sleepy now that you were in his arms cuddled up together, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, following his breathing as the sensation of his fingers in your hair, helps you fall deeper and deeper into a relaxed state. His comforting words sink into your mind, replacing and quieting down your restless thoughts.

“Good girl,” Jean whispers in your ear, now closing his own eyes as you both breathe deeply together, a comfortable silence falling over you. You cuddle closer to him before drifting off to dreamland, your dreams full of Jean and your hopefully bright future together. 

…

You don’t even remember when you fell asleep, but you did. Opening your eyes first thing in the morning, you didn’t expect to hear hushed giggles or the sight of all your male comrades hovered over you with sly smiles on their faces.

“Had fun?” Eren teases with a smirk, never missing an opportunity to get under Jean’s skin. 

“Oh shut up, as if none of you haven’t done this before,” Jean finally opens his own eyes, and shoo’s everyone away, turning to you and kissing you. “Morning my love.”

You felt your face go hot as the guys around you whistled, but the sudden commotion didn’t help as Levi entered the barracks to tell everyone to quiet down, and unfortunately spotted the two of you in bed together. It was very obvious that you had spent the night with Jean, a clear violation of the Survey Corp rules, and Levi was definitely not pleased.

You’re both punished with extra chores and running laps before dinner, not being allowed to eat until all 100 laps are done. Though being able to spend the night with your boyfriend and have the best sleep you’d had in a while was more than worth it. You were already planning your future trip to the men’s barracks to do it again, even if it meant running more laps and annoying Levi.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 7/27/2023

[sleepingdeath-light]

rosie + segmented smut alphabet ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (part of an event)

letters used ; a / i / k

masterlist(s) ; here

minors and ageless blogs do not interact

A — Aftercare

what they’re like after sex

Rosie tends to be extremely vocal and upbeat after you two have had sex — not to the same extent as she is beforehand as she’s usually at least a little out of breath, but no matter how intense your romp has been she always seems to come out of it frustratingly well put-together compared to you — which usually means that she’s the one who takes the lead for both physical aftercare and pillow talk.

Physical aftercare with Rosie tends to follow a very lineare formula with only occasional deviations when necessary: her taking a short while to check you over for any injuries that were more severe than intended, leaving to run you both a nice hot bath (complete with bubbles and a scented candle you can both agree on) once she’s certain that you’re unharmed beyond what you’d consented to beforehand, her fetching you some water and very sternly telling you to drink it, frequently popping her head back into the bedroom to see if you’ve actually done what she’s asked, going and getting some snacks for you both to share from her kitchen, sharing a bath with you (usually with plenty of teasing), and then going to bed for some well-earned casual intimacy.

Pillowtalk, meanwhile, mostly consists of lighthearted banter interspersed with praise, reassurances, and the typical sort of questions you’d expect from someone like Rosie. One moment she’s brushing your wet hair out of you face and reassuring you that you did so well for her and you’ve nothing to worry about with her, and the next her smile goes from genuine to flirty as she (lovingly) teases you for being so reactive and responsive to what she was doing to you — her teasing is very rarely outright explicit but her tone and expression get the message across clear enough on their own for you to want to bury your face in a pillow… or, alternatively, throw that same pillow in her face to get her to quiet down. She also makes a point to ask you whether you enjoyed yourself and were okay with everything she did, and welcomes any suggestions for things you want to try — she always encourages honesty above anything else and wouldn’t dream of shaming or punishing you for being open with her (of course she’s still going to tease you here and there, but you know its never done maliciously and that’s just the sort of person Rosie is).

I — Intimacy

how romantic are they?

Though Rosie is someone who is very traditional and romantic in how she approaches your relationship in general, this doesn’t always translate directly to her behaviour in the bedroom. Of course she’s still the same woman you fell in love with and she never misses the chance to praise you until you can barely stand to look her in the eyes, but there are times where she can be a bit less romantic and a bit more direct about having sex with you — usually when she’s had a particularly frustrating day or if you’ve made a point of being a brat or a tease beforehand.

K — Kink

some of their kinks

There are a vast array of different kinks that Rosie would love to incorporate into your sex life, but I’ll just list a few:

Lingerie — she’s more than willing and excited to dress up for you and has done so many many times, but the idea of you dolling yourself up just for her really just gets her hot under the collar.

Bondage — bonus points if it’s a more intricate style using materials that are both beautiful and firm, but generally speaking Rosie’s happy to have you all tied up and at her mercy no matter what’s being used to restrain you.

Knife Play — her profession has given her a fantastic and intimate understanding of the human body which means that she knows where she should and shouldn’t cut you and how deep she can go to leave a mark without causing serious harm (all skills she’s more than willing to make use of in the bedroom if ever you ask).

Dom/Sub — though she’s not opposed to play-fighting you for her dominance or you being a bit of a brat every now and then and going through the whole ‘make me listen’ routine, it goes without saying that Rosie is always going to be the dominant one in the bedroom.

Praise Kink — mainly this is about her showering you in praise and affirmations while she absolutely ravishes your body with her mouth/hands/pussy/toys, but she’s certainly never going to complain about you praising everything she is or does (it doesn’t even have to be sexual, she’ll get that same giddy grin whether you’re calling her ‘gorgeous’ and telling her how amazing she makes you feel, or salivating over her baking and offering her a string of compliments that would make any chef preen)

Marking Kink — again this is almost exclusive to her being the one to mark you as a way to claim her territory and ward off any potential suitors (she’s also equally content with more long-lasting marks, like bruises and cuts, as she is with more short-term marks, like lipstick prints on your face and neck, and will only go as far with indulging this side of herself as you allow her to)

[cinemastyles-backup]

Summary: FWB's Harry and y/n find out that they're more than just a temporary fix to each other

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, oral (m rec), hair pulling, general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours.

I let out a sigh, fighting the urges to call him. I haven't spoke to Harry in weeks because I was getting feelings and feelings for Harry were a no go.

"Fuck it." I roll over and slap my hand on my phone, dragging it over me. I go into my messages and scroll down to Harry's name. I chew on my lip, really debating if I want to do this.

I do.

I sink low and send him the typical, you up? text that most guys send at this time.

He might not even be up. I start to breathe a little faster. Anxiety mixed with excitement.

I get a text back and sure enough, he's up.

Harry: Well well well, if it ain't little miss lonely.

I scoff and roll my eyes,

Me: What's that supposed to mean?

Harry: Come over and I'll tell you.

I bite my lip and smirk,

Me: What's in it for me?

Harry: Come over and I'll show you.

I sigh, "Doesn't this man know what sexting is?" I sit up and I swear my thumbs move on their own,

Me: On my way.

I smile and try to keep my excitement down to a minimum. "Oh shit. Shit shit." I get up and quickly make myself look decent. I throw on a sweatshirt and leggings and slip on my shoes.

I quietly sneak past my sisters room and walk down the steps.

I grab my purse and grab my keys off the hook.

"Where are you going?" My sister asks popping around the corner, scaring the absolute shit out of me.

"Ah! Julie I almost killed you." I yell, "What the fuck are you doing?" She crosses her arms and smirks, "I can ask you the same thing. You going to see Harry?"

I look at her quickly, "What? N-no. I'm going to-" I sigh, "Yes."

She shakes her head, "He's more than a temporary fix for you and you both just see to realize that." She says as she walks away.

"What?" I say turning towards her. She stops on the steps and leans down over the banister, "Don't keep him waiting."

I scoff and look at my phone,

Harry: Come on, love. I can't wait to see you.

Me: I'm coming, I'm coming. Chill out.

I walk out and get into my car. I put on my music and grip the steering wheel tight before I start driving.

He's more than a temporary fix for you and you both just see to realize that.

I think about what Julie said, over and over again. Her voice playing in my head the whole time I drive to Harry's.

I sit in my car and I look up at his apartment, butterflies start to fill my stomach.

Me: I'm here. I'll be up.

I get out and lock my car, slowly walking up the steps to his door. I knock a few times before the door opens.

There stands Harry. Hot and shirtless. Tattoos on full display.

I bite my lip as my eyes scan over his half naked body, his voice snapping me out of my stare.

"Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there and gawk over me."

I look up at him and shake my head with a smirk, "Shut up." I walk in past him and push his shoulder. He shuts the door and presses his back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What?" I ask while setting my bag on the couch.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of having you being here at this hour?" He chuckles. I shrug, "I guess I just .. needed a temporary fix."

"Yeah?" He walks over to me, "I told you can call me when you're lonely." He brushes hair off my shoulder and tucks it behind my ear, "When you can't sleep.." he slides his hands down to my hips and pulls me into him, "I'll always be your temporary fix."

I look from his eyes up to his lips and smirk before he leans down and kisses me which quickly turns into a very hot make out.

"I've missed you." He mumbles lowly.

I nod in agreement, slipping my hoodie off over my head and tossing it to the ground. I connect my lips with his and he unhooks my bra, sliding it down over my arms and dropping it.

He backs me up into his bedroom, not breaking the kiss.

My knees bend as I hit the bed and I fall back, pulling him with me. He holds his weight up as he hovers over me.

He places kisses down my chest and stomach and takes off my pants and panties together in one swift motion.

I raise my eyebrows.

He shrugs and crawls back onto me, "What?" He kisses me, "I said I've missed you." I giggle and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Didn't you miss me?" He teases, "Didn't you miss how my cock feels inside that tight little pussy you have? Hmm." He kisses my neck and sucks on a spot.

I whimper, "Y-yes." I run my fingers through his hair and arch my back as I can feel him sinking his teeth into my skin, "Fuck."

He kisses up to my ear, "Ive also missed those lips of yours."

"Which ones?" I joke and he looks up at me, "Both of them." He pushes his sweats down immediately freeing his cock.

My eyes flick down and I lick my lips, "Let me suck you off for a little." I look back up to him and he nods eagerly.

I nod for him to lay on the bed and I get up on my knees to finish taking off his sweats. I get myself into position, laying on my belly with my feet kicking in the air behind me.

I lean in and lick a long stripe up the shaft of his cock and he gasps, "Oh." I lick the tip, tasting his salty precum, "Mm, someone's excited." I tease playfully.

He tilts his head and nods once with his teeth holding onto his bottom lip.

I wrap my hand around him and work my way onto his cock. I swirl my tongue and bob my head, each bob earning a moan that gets louder and louder.

"Shit." He gasps laying a hand on the back of my head. He gently pushes my head further down and I let him. I gag slightly as he hits the back of my throat and he jerks his hips, "Fuck, baby."

I hold it there for a few moments as he thrusts his hips slowly.

"O-okay. Come here." He runs a hand up and down my back. I sit up and wipe my mouth before straddling him. Without a word, I slowly sink down into him.

My lips part slowly as I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying the feeling of finally having him inside of me after not having him for weeks.

"Still feel so good." He moans. He grips my hips and starts to slowly rock them. I gasp and look at him, "That feels so good." He smirks and watches me. He leans his head forward so I can wrap and arm around his neck.

I start to bounce, moaning into his neck, "Harry." He wraps and arm around my waist and holds me, moaning along with me.

I wrap my arms tighter around him as I can feel my orgasm approaching, "M'gonna cum." I whimper, "Fuck, Harry."

He turns his head and kisses my neck, biting the same sensitive spot he already marked me with, "Cum on my cock."

I rock my hips, getting him to hit exactly where I need him to hit and I gasp loudly followed by the scream of his name, "Harry, fuck fuck." I groan and arch my back so my chest is pressed more into his.

He thrusts his hips up to meet mine, fucking me through my leg shaking orgasm.

He rolls us over so he's on top now, "Feel good?"

I bite my lip and smile, "Always."

He slides a hand up to my neck and gently starts to squeeze the sides. He starts to thrust again but slow and hard. He watches my face as my eyes roll back and I smile.

"You dirty girl. You like being choked don't you?" 

I keep smiling and nod.

He thrusts all the way in and pushes against me, "You're so fucking hot." He slowly moves his hips causing me to whimper.

He removes his hand from my throat and leans down to kiss me, "Where do you want me to cum?" I open my mouth and stick my tongue out.

He nods with a smirk, "As you wish." He starts to thrusts again at a faster pace. He groans and grips my hips tight, tilting his head back.

He pulls out and I quickly get up, wrapping my lips around the head and pumping. He tangles his fingers into my hair and moans as he pumps his hot cum into my throat.

"Fuck, baby, Mm, fuck." He moans as I suck him clean. I lean and fall back onto the bed. He lays down on his stomach next to me, "that.." he blows air and smiles.

I nod, "one hundred percent." I look up at the ceiling and bite my lip. I didn't realize Harry was staring at me until a few minutes later.

"What's going on in that beautiful brain of yours?" He props himself up onto one of his elbows, "Whatcha thinkin about?"

I look over at him and shake my head, "Nothing, it's nothing."

He lays a hand on mine, "It's obviously not just nothing, what's going on?"

I sigh and laugh slightly, "My.. uh, my sister said something to me when she caught me sneaking out and I can't stop thinking about it."

"Uh oh. What did the all mighty Julie have to say?" He chuckles.

I think for a moment, "That.. you're not just a temporary fix for me." I slowly look over at him and he has a smile plastered on his lips.

"What?" I ask slightly embarrassed, "Harry don't ma-"

He brings a hand up to turn my head towards him, "That Talia I told you about.." he pauses and I nod, "Yeah? What about her?"

"She isn't real."

"Huh?" I ask confused.

He shakes his head, "I mean, she is, but she has a girlfriend and I just told you that to see if you'd get jealous because I wanted to see if you caught feelings like I did."

"Feelings we're hooked lined and sunk a while ago buddy."

"Buddy? Did you just friendzone me?" He laughs and leans in, "I don't want to be just a temporary fix for you anymore." He kisses my forehead.

"Good because I don't want you to be either." I place my lips on his and we fall asleep cuddling with our naked bodies as close to one another as they can be.

——

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