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stwritings · 1 year ago

Text

I Warned You

Synopsis

The aftermath of Eddie and reader's night together following a bad drug trip. Requested part 2, you can read part 1 here!

What To Expect/Warnings

This is a rather heavy topic and potentially triggering to some so please proceed with caution. ♡

No use of y/n, smut, 18+!!!, toxic relationship, mentions of drug use & peer pressuring, alcohol consumption/intoxication, brief mentions of eating/description of food, anxiety/brief mention of panic attack, hurt/comfort, violence, angst, mutual pining, slight emotional & physical cheating (reader is aware of it and feels bad), happy ending.

Let me know if i missed anything! (also this is my first time writing smut so pls bare with me🥺)

Dawn broke in the Munson's cozy home when the sound of the trailer door shutting stirred Eddie out of his sleep; his uncle had returned from work.

It took Eddie a few seconds to gather why he was laying on his back, seeing as he was normally a stomach sleeper. His body also seemed to be overheating, which was also cause for confusion. Post inspections of his surroundings quickly cleared up his confusion as he noticed the weight of her head on his chest, along with the heavy blanket draped on top of them. The trailer usually didn't offer much insulation from the cold outdoors, so this newfound warmth from her presence felt nice. The feeling was foreign, but nice nonetheless.

He lightly hummed in content and began shutting his eyes again before quickly snapping them wide open.

The events of the night prior came flooding back, dragging him out of the moment. A mournful feeling washed over him as he thought back on the state of fear and discomfort she was in. He still couldn't believe how little compassion or care was shown from her boyfriend. Was he even one bit worried about her unknown whereabouts? Her safety? For all he knew, his girlfriend could be in serious danger or worse... Sadly, Samuel didn't seem to care. He had shown his true colors that night, and they weren't pretty.

Despite this, Eddie couldn't help this gnawing feeling of guilt starting to build in the pit of his stomach. Samuel didn't deserve an ounce of sympathy, but Eddie was a good person, and he felt pretty scummy laying in bed with his girlfriend, no matter how pure his intentions were. He also worried about her reaction once she woke up, would she have any recollection of the events that had transpired? The last thing he wanted was for her to think he had taken advantage of her while in such a vulnerable state.

Not wanting to risk making her feel uncomfortable, he attempted to get out of bed by gently sliding from under her. After successfully freeing one of his arms, his efforts were overshadowed by her readjusting even closer to him, letting out a tranquil sigh once she was settled. Eddie froze, his prior discomfort regarding the situation had now worsened now that her body was tangled tightly around his. He briefly thought of waking her, but upon glancing at the clock on his bedside table, he figured he would let her sleep in some more. Besides, it was only 6 am.

Eddie stared at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity following his failed attempts at falling asleep. He laid in bed listening to the tv quietly playing from the living room and tried following along with whatever show Wayne had put on. He quickly gave up after a while, the volume being too low for him to understand anything. He gently leaned over to get a glimpse at the clock now reading 8:35 am. She was still fast asleep, not showing any sign of waking up soon. He figured he may as well relax a little and untense, accepting that he'd be there a while. He began lightly stroking her hair as his arm was once again trapped under her head. He thanked his lucky stars neither of them had been scheduled to work that weekend.

10:51 am

She began to gently stir awake, her eyes remaining closed. She fought to stay asleep for as long as she could, not wanting that feeling of serenity to fade. She leaned into the man embracing her, momentarily forgetting she had spent the night at Eddie's. She took in the feeling of him, appreciating his presence with all of her senses. His warm body holding her while his hand lightly caressed her head. His shallow sleepy breathing causing her head to gently rise as his chest did. His sweet yet musky scent filling the air. It was unbelievably comforting, the feeling overwhelming in the best way possible.

The moment was perfect, and she never wanted it to end.

She shifted slightly in an attempt to get closer to him, despite already having most of her body resting on his form. Her movements yielded the results she was hoping for as Eddie pulled her closer as his grip tightened lovingly. He sighed sleepily and hummed in content, the small reaction made her stomach flip. No longer able to fight her state of consciousness, she slowly opened her eyes scanning the room around her while being careful not to disturb Eddie with any harsh movements.

The reality of last night's events started to dawn on her, and she was quickly met with the feeling of her aching body. She was now painfully aware of the searing headache, along with her desperate need for water. This was far worse than any hangover she had felt before, granted, she had never done hard drugs before.

She felt like she was rotting from the inside; body, mind and spirit... She felt drained in every sense of the word, but especially mentally. The come down from whatever she had taken wasn't done messing with her yet, taking a toll on her well being well into the next day. There was an overwhelming sense of dread looming over her, one she couldn't seem to shake.

She knew there would be hell to face once she returned to her apartment, no matter how hard she'd try to keep the peace. She unintentionally tightened her grip on Eddie's shirt, her body becoming rigid. Unbeknownst to her, Eddie wasn't asleep but rather resting his eyes and was quick to notice her change in demeanor. Worried he was overstepping or making her uncomfortable, he loosened his hold and inched away slightly, tilting his head downwards to face her.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his tone low and husky.

His sudden words startled her slightly, her head snapping up to meet his gaze. She paused for a moment, admiring his face while taking in his beauty. It was almost unfair that he looked this lovely in the morning. His hair fell perfectly, only a few strands out of place. There was a shimmer in his eyes that she had never noticed before. He still had a few pillow markings on his face, most likely caused from sleeping on his face at some point in the night. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his worried gaze softened into a warm smile of his own as he waited for her response.

"Hi" she whispered, unintentionally ignoring his previous inquiry.

"Hi" he responded while chuckling lightly.

They stared at one another for a few minutes, unsure of how to break the silence. Their faces were inches away from each other, her body still tangled with his. The air was thick with unspoken feelings becoming harder to ignore. They were both painfully aware of their longing for one another, trying to gage what their next move should be. Her morals were becoming greyer by the second, her feelings for Eddie taking precedent. Eddie on the other hand was hoping she would make the first move while cursing himself for thinking this way. For a brief moment, she came close to giving in, feeling her face begin to move closer to his. She reluctantly halted her movements, knowing in her heart that it was the right thing to do.

Eddie's heart just about stopped in that moment. He was so hopeful and it broke him to see her change of heart in real time. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, to cherish her for all she was worth. But it wasn't his place, and he certainly wouldn't be the one to bring up romantic feelings.

She began to withdraw from his hold, sitting up on the bed to face him. The feeling of loneliness found it's way back to her heart the moment she left his embrace. Eddie noticed her shift in behavior and began to worry he had in fact overstepped. He couldn't help but think that their friendship would forever be changed. He was plagued with a million questions, none of which he truly wanted the answers to. The biggest one being, what now? Does life resume as it once was with no mention of that evening? Would there always be these unresolved feelings that wouldn't be acknowledged? Eddie knew he would forever see her in a different light, unable to bare the mere mention of her boyfriend. It was all too much. All he could do was smile apologetically at her as they sat in silence. After a few seconds, the quietness in the room was growing uncomfortable and she felt obliged to speak. "I'm sorry about all that" she began.

"'Bout what?" he replied genuinely.

"Everything"

Her body was slightly slumped over now, eyes glued to her fingers she was picking at nervously. She wasn't sure how to elaborate on her apology. She was overcome by a massive wave of guilt, feeling as though she was letting everyone down. She knew Eddie had feelings for her, now more than ever, and it tore her up. Putting him through all this crap, subjecting him to Samuel's antics. She felt horrible, Eddie deserved nothing but the best and she was giving him the opposite.

Eddie didn't respond right away, unsure what to say. He instinctively reached out his hand to place it softly on top of hers in a comforting gesture. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She sighed heavily, shutting her eyes tightly in an effort to suppress her tears forming involuntarily. "I shouldn't have stayed here..." she let out weakly.

Eddie's heart sank once again. "Look, I... I didn't mean to make things weird between us. I'm sorry if I did. I can drive you home now if you want?" he offered, trying his best not to sound crushed.

"Could you?" she asked, still unable to make eye contact.

"Of course, let me uh, let me get changed quick."

She nodded and began getting out of the bed, heading towards the bedroom door. Eddie was quick to stop her, not wanting to risk the possibility of Wayne being woken up. He offered for her to wait in his room as he excused himself to the bathroom after grabbing a fresh set of clothes. She nodded, plopping back down onto his bed.

As she waited in his bedroom alone, the dam broke. Tears began to spill from her eyes uncontrollably, her attempts at composure unsuccessful. Eddie returned to the bedroom quicker than anticipated, catching her off guard. Upon noticing her distress, he quickly crouched down in front of her just as he had the night before to try and mend whatever was causing her to be this upset.

She met his concerned eyes and noticed the amount of sincerity and love behind them. For whatever reason, this made her incredibly emotional. She had reached a breaking point and was now sobbing violently. It was the type of cry that makes a person fold over, wrapping their arms around themselves in an attempt at self-soothing.

"Oh.." he voiced in a broken tone. Eddie quickly wrapped his arms around her. He swiftly pulled her onto his lap, his previous posture being slightly awkward and hard on his knees. He began slowly rubbing her back in attempts to sooth her as she buried her face in his chest.

He hated seeing her this upset, no matter the reason. He never wanted to see it again, for the simple fact that it absolutely broke him. She was trembling in his arms from the force of her sobs, nearly hyperventilating. He whispered sweet nothings in an attempt to comfort her. A combination of 'you're safe', 'I've got you', 'it's gonna be okay', 'breathe', etc.

They remained in this position for well over 20 minutes, as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Once her sobbing had subsided, she slowly lifted her head off of him. She stared into the distance, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Eddie brought his hand up to her face and slowly guided her to look at him.

"Hey..." he said softly, smiling meekly. With his hand still cupping her face, he started gently stroking his thumb on her damp cheek, trying to wipe away some of her tears. She took a few shaky breaths while attempting to return the smile. This panic attack had absolutely drained her and she was exhausted. Her body melted under his touch as she rested her head against his chest once more, wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her closer, placing one hand onto the back of her head, the other hand rubbing her back still.

"I'm sorry..." she muttered into his chest.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked once more.

She sighed at the thought, lifting her head off of his chest. "I don't know."

"Okay, why don't I get you some tissues?" he offered, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, that's a good start." she said, laughing lightly as she noticed Eddie's tear stained shirt.

"Alright. Be right back." he replied gently patting her back, signaling that she needed to get up in order for him to complete the task at hand. She got the message and moved off of him, sluggishly getting back into his bed. She wrapped the blankets around her head as she had the night before, seeking any form of comfort during Eddie's absence. He returned to the room quickly with the box of tissues, extending his arm out to hand them to her. She grabbed the box and began to blot at her face. Eddie remained standing while she freshened up, slowly pacing around his room, pretending to look at anything else. Once he thought he had heard the last blow of her nose, he turned towards her. "May I?" he asked while gesturing to the bed.

She nodded, silently giving him permission to climb in next to her. He sat up against the wall, wanting to give her space, while she sat opposite of him. "Could I stay here a little longer?" she asked quietly, her eyes once again fixed on her nails.

He smiled at her request. "You can stay as long as you like." he answered.

A shy grin formed on her face and she slowly crept closer to him, once again resting her head on his chest as she laid beside him. The room grew quiet, leaving Eddie with his thoughts. He understood that now, more than ever, comfort was what she needed most. He gently stroked her hair until she eventually fell asleep, undoubtedly exhausted from her intense emotions over the last 24 hours.

1:22 pm

Unaware that she had drifted off, she woke up once again curled up in Eddie's hold. She groggily lifted her head looking up at him only to be met with a warm smile.

"Afternoon." he greeted in a low voice, grinning as he admired her sleepy face. She hummed in response while rubbing her eyes. She contorted her body to get a view of the clock, noting the time. A sinking feeling rushed over her; she knew she had to get back to her appartement sooner than later. Her head fell back gently onto Eddie's chest, groaning in frustration. Eddie couldn't help but snicker at her grumpiness, she seemed to be feeling more like herself. Upon hearing him laugh, she raised her head off of his chest, leaning on her left shoulder for support as she looked up at him. He offered a warm smile, his eyes gleamed inquisitively as he waited for her to speak.

She found herself at a loss for words, once again enamored by the man mere inches from her. Her eyes kept darting from Eddie's eyes to his lips and it didn't go unnoticed. Eddie seemed visibly nervous now, his cheeks slowly turning into a light shade of pink as he waited in anticipation. She felt herself moving closer to him as if her body had a mind of it's own.

Impulsivity took over and before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the gap between them, softly kissing his lips. She withdrew almost instantly, realizing what she had just done. She moved away ever so slightly to analyze Eddie's face, desperately hoping that this wasn't a mistake. He stared at her, expressionless, unable to process what had just happened. He felt as though he had imagined the whole thing. He had to remind himself to breathe as he inhaled a big gulp of air while blinking rapidly.

She began to stutter while moving her body further from his on the opposite side of the bed. She stuttered, trying to formulate a sentence as she scolded herself for her reckless actions.

"I.. I'm so sorry Eddie... I shouldn't have done that. That was stu-"

Her words were interrupted by Eddie carefully leaning forward and placing a hand on the side of her face. He paused, gazing into her eyes lovingly then brought his other hand next to her on the bed to provide support as he leaned in. The moment she felt his lips on hers again, she felt immense relief. He kissed her with intent, but it wasn't aggressive. It was... loving.. longing. She felt like he had been waiting years to kiss her and that no person or other-worldly force could separate them in this moment.

As he gently broke away, they exchanged flustered gazes and chuckled excitedly. It had been a very long 24 hours, and this sweet moment was exactly what they needed. Eddie leaned back in to kiss her once more, this time with more passion and certainty. The force with which he kissed her made her arms give out, her body falling backwards onto the mattress. This didn't stop them but rather added fuel to the raging fire. The intensity of the kiss made for a few awkward mishaps of teeth clattering and unsynchronized movements, but they eventually found the perfect rhythm.

Her tongue danced it's way into his mouth, in a desperate search for his. This sudden action cause Eddie to gasp lightly as he obliged and reciprocated the movement with his own.

Eddie adjusted his body ever so slightly causing her to part her legs, inviting him to rest comfortably between them as they continued to kiss. The room was getting warmer, their actions growing more desperate. All these months of pent up longing was finally being released as they explored one another. Her hand had found it's way to his messy head of hair whilst his found her waist.

It had been a very long time since she had felt this level of intimacy or crave for someone and it was taking over her. Consuming her mind and clouding her better judgement. Their bodies began to shift simultaneously, both desperately seeking some sort of friction to relieve the building ache they were feeling for one another. She wrapped her legs around his hips, resulting in his body pressing up against hers.

She could feel Eddie's hot breath as he moved to kiss her neck, his hips stuttered as they lined up perfectly with her core. Even through the fabric of both of their pants, the feeling sent shivers down her spine. He was big, she could tell. A stifled moan escaped her lips but Eddie was quick to shush her with a kiss, suddenly remembering that his uncle was only a few feet away from them in the living room. He continued his movements, grinding against her core as she matched his pace. Her cheeks were flushed from the intensity of the moment, it was as if the whole room was spinning. She broke away from the kiss suddenly, breathing out Eddie's name as she did so. He froze for a moment, once again fearing he had crossed a line.

“I just…I don't want you to think that…that this is just….” she trailed off, sighing deeply in frustration. Of all the times she could be tongue tied, now was not the time! She closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to find the right words, then opened them in search of Eddie's sweet doe eyes, desperately wanting to convey sincerity. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, I just couldn’t…”

Eddie picked up on her intended words right away, smiling down at her as he nodded quickly. He felt relief along with a slight sense of validation. It was nice to know that he wasn't imagining this chemistry between them. And hearing that she felt the same as he did? Well, that just sent him over the moon. He began planting gentle kisses on her cheek before looking at her face once more. “I know, baby. I know... Me too.”

She returned the same excited smile he adorned and leaned up to kiss him once more. Her quick movement upwards coupled with Eddie's downward motion led to their teeth clanking together awkwardly. They both froze and began laughing at the silly moment. Her head fell back down onto the bed, and she brought her hand up to his face, gently rubbing her thumb along his cheek. Eddie closed his eyes and hummed, this sweet gesture of intimacy had him reeling.

"If this is gonna happen, i think we should..." she trailed off and paused before correcting her choice of words. "I want to do this right."

She always knew Eddie was a respectful man, a gentleman, but it never failed to make her heart skip a beat when he would display this type of character. At her words, he instantly withdrew from her hold, sitting upright in front of her as he ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted his now, very, tight pants. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Yeah, of course, whatever you need." he assured lovingly, still flustered.

After quietly exiting the Munson residence and completing the half hour drive, they arrived at her apartment complex. She knew she couldn't stay with Samuel, nor did she want to, but she worried about returning home, even for the brief moment that it would take her to pack her essential belongings and end the relationship. She feared the worst reaction from him, but unfortunately, confrontation was inevitable. She wasn't sure how to go about doing it, she just knew that it had to be done.

She nervously opened the car door and smiled weakly at Eddie. He offered to come upstairs with her, but she knew that would only make things worse. He reluctantly obliged and waited in the car as she made her way to the entrance of the building, but not before giving him the appartement number just in case. She soon disappeared behind the closing doors of the elevator, hoping for the best.

As she reached her front door, she couldn't help but notice the blaring music coming from their unit. She reached for the doorknob, assuming she wouldn't be needing her key to unlock it and slowly pushed the door open. As expected, Samuel was home laying on their sofa with a nearly empty bottle of gin in hand. He didn't seem to notice her come in initially, so she took this opportunity to hurry off to their bedroom.

Fearing the worst, she felt it was best she end things with him in the morning when he wasn't intoxicated. She was hoping he had passed out on the sofa as he often did, and began to pack a bag as quietly and quickly as she could. Her hopes were quickly met with disappointment when she heard the bedroom door swing open and Samuel stumbling in.

"Nice of you to show up." he slurred, anger coating his tone. She didn't respond right away, which further aggravated him. "Where the fuck have you been?" he persisted.

"At a friend's." she lied, feeling it was best to bend the truth for her own safety.

"That's not what i'm asking." he spat, clearly referring to the unaccounted two days.

"Can we not do this right now? Let's talk in the morning when you've sobered up." she pleaded, knowing reasoning with him in this state was next to impossible.

"I'm fine, you know what isn't though?" he began, starting towards her aggressively. "Whoring yourself around and then showing up 2 days later acting like nothing happened."

His eyes with red with anger. He took another swig of the bottle before letting out a sinister laugh as he spoke. "Going home with some guy you met at the party? After everything I've done for you!"

He was mere inches from her face now, his hold on the liquor bottle tightening as he became angrier.

"You left me, Samuel!" she fired back, no longer able to suppress her emotions. "I wasn't okay, and you just left me! You didn't care. How long did it even take for you to realize I was gone?" Tears began to form in her eyes but she blinked them away, refusing to succumb to the hurt he had caused her.

"Oh my.. Don't fucking cry and try to turn this on me. You always do this." he yelled as he retreated to the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Her legs weakened and she sat back down on the bed feeling completely defeated. Her mind quickly went to Eddie, who was anxiously waiting for her downstairs, giving her some much needed strength to power through. She continued packing, grabbing her favorite articles of clothing and a few items in the bathroom before making her way to the living room to grab whatever valuables she had. Samuel was quick to notice, immediately stumbling up from the couch to confront her. "What the hell are you doing." he asked menacingly.

"Leaving you." she responded matter-of-factly as she kept packing.

Another dry evil laugh left his lips as he followed close behind, moving through their shared space. "That's funny." he said dryly.

"I'll be back tomorrow to pick up the rest of my stuff." she paused, turning to face him. "I'm done, Sam. I can't do this anymore."

Her words did nothing but anger him further. He stepped closer to her, grabbing her arm tightly. His nails digging into her flesh. She winced at the contact, thrashing her arm in an attempt to free herself from his grasp.

"You can threaten to leave me all you want but you know damn well you're not gonna find anyone that's willing to put up with your shit like I do. I give it a day, you'll come back." he growled lowly, roughly releasing her arm before taking a big swig from the bottle he was still holding.

"Keep telling yourself that." she muttered coldly under her breath as she retreated to the bedroom. She took a moment to catch her breath and examine her arm. Blue markings were already starting to form from his rough hand. Her eyes widened, Samuel had never laid a hand on her before so his sudden aggressive behavior was the final push, screaming at her to get out now. She hurried towards the front door and shrieked once she opened it when she bumped into someone's chest; Eddie.

Relief instantly washed over her and she flung her arms around his torso, embracing him into a tight hug. "I told you to wait in the car." she quietly whispered whilst holding onto him.

"I got worried, you were taking so long." he responded, kissing the top of her head.

Samuel overheard the commotion and began observing from the living room. The sight of his now ex-girlfriend embracing another man lit a fire under him. He made his way towards them, flinging the botte of gin mere inches from her head. It made contact with the wall and shattered, glass flying everywhere. A small shard ricocheted off of her face, drawing blood. Shock and adrenaline prevented her from feeling the cut, she was frozen in place as her eyes locked with Samuel's who was marching over to her. Eddie was quick to step in front of her, anger now prevalent on his face.

"Is this the guy you've been screwing?" he yelled without slowing his pace. He seemed unphased by Eddie's presence, trying to bypass him to get to her. Once face to face, Samuel tried to shove his way passed Eddie unsuccessfully given his smaller form. He tried shoving his way through again, growing more agitated at his failure to do so. In a final attempt, he used both of his hands to push Eddie in the chest, yelling out insults and trying to instigate a fight. Eddie pushed him back, causing him to stumble a few feet away.

"Cool it, alright. Before I beat the shit out of you." Eddie said sternly before leaning down to grab the duffle bag she had dropped while hugging him.

This gave Samuel a clear view of her, a frightened expression displayed on her face. She couldn't think of anything to say, fearing it would trigger a negative reaction from him. He starred at her with an icy expression, before retreating to the kitchen.

"Come on, let's go..." Eddie spoke softly, gently placing a hand on the small of her back guiding her out of the appartement. They stopped in their tracks as they heard more glass breaking from the kitchen. Against her better judgement, she slowly inched back into the entrance, Eddie following closely behind her.

Once in view of the kitchen, she could see the source of the racket. Samuel had picked up a baseball bat they kept by their balcony door and was smashing hanged pictures on the wall. Glass littered the floor along with broken picture frames.

"You did this!" he yelled. "You ruined us. You stupid bitch!"

He flung a slew of insults at her while smacking the bat against any fragile surface he came into contact with.

"Sam, please stop." she cried, her eyes filling with tears once more.

He ignored her request and continued on with his rampage, making his way towards the living room. He began hitting their shared stereo, the music that was still blaring began to distort until it ultimately stopped completely. She was frozen in place, horrified by his outburst. Eddie gently placed a hand on her shoulder, quietly suggesting they leave before things got any uglier. She obliged, a sob involuntarily escaping her lips.

They were halfway out the door, Eddie leading the way, when he heard the distinct sound of the bat smacking against the wall. Too close for comfort. He spun around as he heard her yelp out in pain and was met with rage. Samuel had made his way to them once more. This time, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her backwards while uttering threats as he forced her head inches from his face.

Now, Eddie wasn't a violent person. Contrary to popular belief, he had only ever gotten in a couple of fights, none of which he ever instigated. That being said, he was very protective of the people he loved, and god help anyone who dared threaten their safety or well being. In this moment, Eddie saw red. The pent up anger that had been building following the night of the party where he saw first hand the mistreatment she was facing, most likely on a day to day basis was all he could think about. The flood gates opened and without a moment of hesitation, he sprung into action. He hurried back into the apartment, carefully maneuvering past her and grabbing onto Samuel's shirt as he began hitting him with his free hand. Samuel's grip on her hair instantly released as he fell to the ground. Eddie dropped to his knees, his punches never slowing as he continued to hit him. Bringing a hand up to soothe the sore spot left from Samuel's harsh grasp, she watched on in shock.

"I warned you, you piece of shit!" he kept yelling in between punches. Samuel attempted to fight back at first, but it was no use. Eddie had overpowered him early on, and the sheer force behind each hit lead to a total knock out. It was the she felt she needed to step in.

"Eddie... stop..." she muttered quietly, still stunned by the scene unfolding before her.

He didn't stop though. He was in a anger-fueled trance that prevented him from hearing her words. He finally snapped out of it and spun around quickly after feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder. His fist was still clenched as he came back down to earth, a mixture of both his and Samuel's blood splayed over his knuckles. Once he registered who he was looking at, he lowered his fist. His pupils were blown out and he was out of breath. He turned to look at the damage he had caused and instantly felt remorse. Two punches would have been plenty, this was overkill.

From the looks of it, he had broken Samuel's nose and given him black eyes. His face was already starting to swell and he was out cold.

"Oh my god... I..." he stuttered, falling back on the heals of his feet. He was starring at the ground, shock painted on his face. She kneeled down next to Eddie and placed a hand onto his functional one in a gentle, comforting gesture.

"It's okay, he'll be fine. This isn't the first time he's gotten the shit kicked out of him." she reassured.

"But I..."

"You're okay, it's okay." she interrupted, speaking quietly, reassuringly. Her other hand met his cheek as she gently lifted his face to meet hers. His eyes, now glossy, met her gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, noticing the cut on her cheek. He slowly brought his hand up to her face, being careful not to touch the open wound.

"Yeah... Yeah, im okay." she reassured him in a quiet, loving voice. "Can we please go?"

"Yeah um, what about...?" he trailed off motioning towards her ex boyfriends stilled body behind him.

She gently shook her head no as she stood, extending her arms in an offer to help Eddie up. He understood immediately. She had ran out of sympathy or care for Samuel, he was no longer her problem to fix.

Back at the trailer, they stumbled through the front door sluggishly, the adrenaline now fully worn off. They came face to face with Eddie's uncle who quicky sat up from the couch after seeing their disheveled states.

"Jesus..." he gasped under his breath while staring at Eddie. "Boy, you look like hell. What happened?" he asked, a confused but concerned look growing on his face. His eyes met hers and he instantly rose from the reclining sofa. "Let me get the first aid kit."

Eddie nodded in agreement, making his way to the sofa as she followed close behind him. Wayne returned with the small box of supplies, handing it to her.

"There you are, darlin'."

"Thank you Mr. Munson" she replied sweetly.

She began to work on patching up Eddie's hand, gently dabbing at his sore knuckles, attempting to remove the blood that had coagulated. Every wince of pain that came from her gentle touches was followed by soft apologies as she tried her best to remove most of the gunk from his hand. His skin was raw, and she quickly realized that most of the blood on his hand was actually his. His hand had swollen twice it's normal size, and she suspected he had broken a knuckle or two. If not, they were definitely bruised to the highest degree. She applied bandages once the cleaning process was complete and quietly excused herself to the bathroom.

The men stepped outside for a much needed cigarette and Eddie filled Wayne in on their hectic afternoon. He admitted to feeling guilty and despising how violent he had gotten, especially in front of her. He worried that his behavior may have altered the way she thought of him or that she might be afraid of him now.

"Boy, you and me both know that ain't never gon' happen. What you did back there was justified."

"You didn't see his face..." he responded while staring at his feet.

"Don't need to. Been in enough fights myself, kid. I reckon you beat him pretty good." he said while motioning to Eddie's mangled knuckles.

"Hell, I would have. Lost his damn mind thinkin' he can hit a lady..." he trailed off, shaking his head while bringing the cigarette to his mouth. "Look, you feelin' bad about it just proves that you're a good person. I wouldn't have, what does that say about me?"

A smile crept on Eddie's face at his uncle's words. He thought the world of him and could say with absolute certainty that he was a good character, despite his admission. "Thanks uncle."

"'Course. Now go check on your lil' lady, make sure she's alright." he ordered with care.

"She's not my lil' lady." Eddie smiled bashfully.

"Well you better go on and change that!" Wayne retorted sassily.

Eddie chuckled, brought his hand up to his uncle's shoulder to give it a pat and headed inside the trailer. He made his way towards the bathroom where the door was ajar. He lightly knocked, opening it after hearing her quietly grant him permission to enter. She was sitting on the edge of the bath tub when she looked up at him and smiled. He walked towards her, closing the toilet seat lid to sit on it.

"How you holdin' up?" he asked. She wasn't crying and appeared to be calm, which surprised him.

"Is it awful to say, good?" she spoke carefully, contorting her face slightly. "I don't know, it's like this massive weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. All this time i never realize how much he was weighing me down..." she trailed off, staring at her hands.

"No, i get it. Makes perfect sense." he spoke softly, matching her tone. His eyes never left her face, admiring her every feature including the newly added band-aid on her cheek. "How's your face?"

"S'fine, surface level cut."

"Good." he replied with care while staring adoringly into her eyes.

Their moment was interrupted by Wayne poking his head into the bathroom. "Sorry to interrupt, i'm fixin' to start on dinner soon, will you be joining us?"

She looked up at Eddie, seeking approval, not wanting to impose. He met her gaze with a warm inviting smile which she returned before turning to face his uncle. "If you don't mind..." she replied gratefully.

Wayne nodded before making his way to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. They were once again left in each other's company and Eddie suggested they exit the bathroom to find a more spacious area to hangout in. She agreed, letting Eddie lead them to his bedroom, shutting the door behind them to give his uncle space in the kitchen. Wayne was a simple man who seldom said much, he especially enjoyed peace and quiet while he was cooking.

Once in the room, she settled on his bed as she had grown comfortable doing so while Eddie pulled out the chair by his desk to sit on. Despite everything they had been through in such a short period of time, he still worried about overstepping and wanted to ensure to respect her boundaries and give her space when really, he was burning with love and desire.

Unbeknownst to him, space was the last thing on her mind. Ever since Eddie had held her in his arms and demonstrated such gentle love and care, she had been craving it. Craving something she never knew she so desperately needed. His touch was something she had never felt before, it was electric. Without ever saying it, Eddie had showed her just how much he cared and had restored her faith in love. It wasn't until she felt his touch that she had realized just how awful her relationship with Samuel was, and how desperately she craved to be loved.

She gazed up at him, an involuntary smile creeping on her face when she noticed he had been observing her from across the room. She didn't want to waste any more time dwelling on the the past and decided to act upon her feelings.

"You comfy over there?" she asked playfully.

"You know, it's actually much more comfortable than it appears" he replied, using his legs as propellors, gently spinning the chair.

"You know what else is comfortable?"

"What's that?"

"Your bed." she quipped with a cheeky smile while patting the empty space next to her.

Eddie was quick to get up, making his way to the bed. He playfully stretched both of his arms the way an athlete would while warming up before a work out and dived into the bed next to her. The sheer force of his body hitting the mattress jolted her up slightly and she yelped. Eddie turned onto his side to face her, admiring her smile as she came down from the high of laughing. She was laying on her back, turning her face to look at him. "Hi." she said quietly.

"Hi" he repeated, a big dorky smile plastered on his face.

She shifted to her side, her body now facing his and pulled the covers up to her nose.

"Oh, gettin' shy on me now, are ya?" he teased.

"M'not!" she playfully snapped back, the blanket muffling her voice.

"So what's this about then? You get cold all of a sudden?"

"I like your bed, it's cozy." she replied closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.

Her words brought him back to the night she first stayed over. He couldn't stop thinking about how his presence alone helped to comfort her in her state of distress. The idea that someone he loved could potentially feel the same way was almost overwhelming. His stomach was constantly fluttering when she was around; he was lovestruck.

"What's your uncle cooking up for dinner?" she asked, interrupting his train of thought.

"Your guess is as good as mine, we never have guests so he's probably gonna try to show off his skills."

His response elicited a laugh. "Well whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be good." she paused, wanting to craft her next reply carefully. "Thank you for letting me stay here while I sort all this out."

"Of course..."

They exchanged loving eyes for a few moments before she inched her body closer to his in an attempt at cuddling. Eddie repositioned himself so he could pull her into a tight but comfortable hug. They laid together in comfortable silence until Wayne was overheard calling for them to come get some food.

They made their way to the kitchen, the smell of chicken parm prominent in the air made them realize just how hungry they were. She was pleased to see the delicious food waiting for her, not used to this kind of service at home.

"This looks amazing!" she exclaimed, quickly grabbing a plate.

Wayne politely shrugged off her compliment, muttering something about it being nothing special. Eddie refused to let his modesty cast a shadow on the quality of the meal, and reinforced her praise. This evoked a timid smile from his uncle, as he insisted they stop with the pleasantries and have a seat before the food got cold. Given that the dinner table only seated two, they made their way to the sofa to enjoy their meal allowing Wayne to sat at the table, facing the pair.

They sat in the living room for a solid half hour once they finished eating, continuously praising Wayne for the quality of their meal. She eventually got up with her and Eddie's plates and made her way towards the sink. She returned to retrieve Wayne's dish before being abruptly stopped.

"What do you think you're doin'?" Wayne protested, pulling his plate towards him and furrowing his brows.

"Oh, uh I was gonna do the dishes." she replied unsurely.

He hummed shaking his head in response. "You're a guest in our home, I certainly won't be havin' you doin' chores. Eddie can take care of those."

She turned to face the now less than pleased looking metal head grimacing over the sudden task he had been assigned. She stifled a laugh by pressing her lips together before looking at Wayne once more.

"It's the least I can do! Really, I'm happy to do it." she persisted sweetly. "Besides, don't you have to work tonight?'

Wayne reluctantly handed her the plate, thanking her while doing so. He gave Eddie an impressed look once she turned her back. His nephew had only ever brought home a couple of girls, but she was by far the most well-mannered one to date. He assumed Eddie had told her he worked nights at the plant, but having her take note of it and be so considerate of his schedule was much appreciated. He motioned with his head for Eddie to go help her tidy the kitchen, excusing himself to the bathroom to freshen up for work.

By the time the dishes were washed, Wayne was heading off to work while wishing them a good night. Eddie suggested they watch a movie which ended up being more difficult then either of them had anticipated. For the first time since they had known each other, they were met with a conflict; picking a movie. Eddie was a big fan of the horror and thriller genre, watching almost exclusively those types of films whereas she didn't care for that type at all. She enjoyed romcoms or westerns, two genres that happened to be Eddie's least favorite. Such a small clash in taste lead to a playful yet heated debate yielding little results.

"I'm telling you, if you just give this movie a chance i bet you'll enjoy it!" she stated with certainty.

"No way, I've seen my fair share of lame westerns no thanks to Wayne and they're all the same!! Old men in the desert shooting guns and riding around on horses. It's garbage!"

"It's classic." she corrected him. "And I could say the same about those scary movies you like so much. Why does being scared while watching a movie sound appealing to you, anyway?"

"It's exciting!! Keeps you on your toes!" he exclaimed.

"You know what else is exciting? Action movies, which, if i'm not mistaken, The Shadow Riders falls into that category..." she trailed off, her tone raising in a sing-songy way.

"No westerns." he insisted, punctuating each syllable.

"Fine." she sighed, snatching the remote from his hold. "What about The Breakfast Club? Have you ever seen it?"

"Nope, don't want to either." he replied stubbornly.

"Eddieeee...." she whined, collapsing dramatically on the couch. Her actions elicited a laugh from him as he snatched the remote back.

"Alright, alright. Let's see..." he trailed off as he scrolled through the catalogue. "Child's Play?"

"What's that about?" she mumbled, her face still buried in the sofa cushion.

"A murderous doll on a rampage." he stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure."

"Wait, really?" he exclaimed excitedly.

She lifted her head off the sofa before saying: "No." with a playful grin.

Eddie, now mimicking her prior dramatics went limp, sliding his body off of the couch and onto the floor letting out a pained grown. She laughed, joining him on the ground.

"This is brutal." he said while chuckling.

"Tell me about it. Got any games we could play instead?" she offered, admitting defeat in their attempts at compromising on a film to watch.

"We've got cards somewhere, let me have a look."

After a few minutes of searching random drawers in the dining area, he returned with a small deck of cards.

"Uh, this is all we have..." he offered timidly.

Upon observing the pack, her face lit up and she grinned wildly. "No way, Wizard?! I love that game!" she exclaimed.

"You do?" Eddie's smile was growing by the second. Next to D&D, Wizard was his favorite game to play. Truthfully, he was pleasantly surprised that she had even heard of it, let alone seemed to enjoy it as much as he did.

"Don't act so surprised." she retorted with feigned offence.

"No, it's just... I didn't think you were into this kind of stuff." he said, inadvertently blushing.

"Nerdy stuff?" she quipped. "Well, I've only ever played once... But I loved it!"

"Shall we play then?" he said excitedly while lightly shaking the deck of cards side to side.

"Let's do it, I ought to warn you though, I annihilated my friends last time." she provoked.

"Alright well I'll have you know, I've never lost a game, so..." he trailed off making a silly, challenging face.

"You're on." she playfully retorted.

A couple of hours and a few beers deep led the pair to lose interest in the card game. Eddie had won most of the matches anyway. They were sprawled out on the living room floor, deep in conversation when she suggested they move to a more comfortable spot, noting how sore her elbows were getting from propping herself up off the ground. Eddie agreed and guided them to his bedroom, feeling a bit tired himself.

Once in the room, Eddie gathered some clothes and excused himself to go change in the bathroom. This gave her time to pull out some sleep shorts and an oversized tee and get dressed herself. Once comfortable in bed, Eddie walked back into the bedroom wearing checkered pajama pants and a CCR band tee. She glanced at the shirt, then at his face with a cheeky grin.

"CCR, huh?" she playfully questioned, brows raised.

He paused for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by her comment. "They... You know, they're a good band!" he paused as he noticed her struggling to keep a straight face. "Shut up!" he exclaimed playfully while getting into bed.

She giggled before responding. "I never said they were bad! I just didn't take you as a fan!"

"Yeah, well... You can thank Wayne for that..." he chuckled while shaking his head, the memories of his uncle and him bonding over this genre of music came flooding back into his mind. She smiled at his response and got closer to him, her head once again finding it's way onto his chest. She pondered for a few minutes, then chose to speak up, not wanting Eddie to succumb to his tired state.

"Thank you... For everything." she said while her fingers traced patterns on his chest. He squeezed her shoulder lovingly in response and kissed the top of her head. A silence lingered in the room as the pair waited for one another to speak up. It wasn't awkward by any means but simply quiet, peaceful, as they both laid together.

Thoughts of Samuel began to plague her once more, until she felt Eddie's warm touch, rubbing her arm soothingly. She suddenly was brought back to the present, realizing that her ex boyfriend no longer had a hold over her. He could no longer dictate her actions or jeopardize her happiness. She felt her heart flutter, feeling a sense of newfound freedom and excitement washing over her. She gazed up at Eddie who returned a loving glance and smiled from cheek to cheek, blushing slightly. She felt a lump in her throat from excitement and pushed herself to make the leap. Fuck it.

She inched her body forward, close enough to give Eddie a sweet kiss on the cheek. She talked herself out of a proper kiss on the lips, wanting to gage his reaction first. As she pulled away, she once again looked at him sweetly and paused. The ball was now in his court.

Eddie couldn't believe this had all worked out in his favor. In both of their favors. He was so incredibly relieved that she was able to get away from Samuel, while selfishly praising every deity there was for giving him a sliver of hope that, maybe... Just maybe... He could get the girl. Eddie was so caught up in his thoughts that he just stared on, admiring her features. He finally snapped out of it when she leaned in once more, this time committing to his lips.

Despite having kissed before, this time felt different. The intensity of it grew rapidly, Eddie making quick work to sit up against the wall and help pull her up onto his lap. She straddled his thighs, trying her hardest to never break away from the kiss. Her hand found it's way to the nape of his neck, while the other was exploring his body, moving from his chest to his waist.

With the house being vacant apart from the both of them, Eddie was a lot more vocal that he had been earlier that day. His breathing quickened the more they kissed and small breathy moans began to escape his lips with every small rhythmic movement her hips would make. She snaked her hand under his shirt, making her way to his back. There, she lightly scratched it with her nails, resulting in an elongated groan from the riled up metal head. He took her face into his hands and began kissing her more intently, expertly slipping his tongue into her mouth. This warranted a positive reply from her as she grinded her hips harder against his now very hard cock. She retracted her hand from his backside and broke awake from the kiss, urgently working to remove Eddie's shirt. He obliged, hurriedly taking off the band tee and chucking it across the room. Before he could do the same to her top, she was already tossing it to the ground, exposing her breasts to him for the first time.

Like a deer in headlights, Eddie froze, his mouth hanging agape as he gazed upon what was, in his opinion, the prettiest set of tits he had ever seen in his life. She halted her movements, analyzing his reaction to her exposed chest and couldn't help but giggle at his frozen state.

"You okay?" she asked shyly.

Eddie blinked rapidly as he now looked her in the eyes. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, sorry... I uh.. I mean, wow..."

She giggled once more at how flustered he was and leaned in to kiss him once more. She resumed her movements, earning a strained moan from Eddie as he kissed her passionately. His hands found their way to her chest, as he gently but firmly began to fondle. He winced slightly at the pain from his sore hand but desperately tried to ignore it. (Priorities, am I right?)

He broke away from her lips and began planting soft kisses on her neck. She sighed, moving her head back to expose more of the area. Eddie gently nibbled and sucked onto the sensitive spot, making sure to leave a mark. He grinned in the nape of her neck when she let out a near pornographic moan and grinded harder against him.

"Take these off." he instructed as he gently moved his hand to her thigh and tapped it.

"Only if you do." she responded playfully. She couldn't help but stare at Eddie's bare chest. His tattoos seemed to have been placed by the Gods. He was toned, especially in his arms and shoulders, though he had a small pudgy stomach that drove her crazy. She could feel her mouth watering and her eyes drowning in desire as she waited for him to undress. She was so caught up in her daze that she almost forgot their pact. It wasn't until Eddie started to shift away from her to gain access to his bottoms that she clued in and began removing her sleep shorts. She tossed the fabric onto the ground and settled on the bed once more, where her eyes found Eddie's now fully nude body. She could feel her eyes widen and her mouth salivate as she gazed upon his large member. Her ex boyfriend wasn't small by any means, but he definitely wasn't this big.

Eddie noticed her stunned state and began feeling self conscious but those thoughts only lasted a second, fading into oblivion as she moved towards him, gently pushing his chest down so he could rest against the wall once more. She made quick work of straddling him once and leaned in for another kiss. This one is slow, sensual, she wants to take her time. She feels insanely comfortable with him, which is very new and oh so intoxicating. By now, she can feel her arousal sticking to Eddie's thighs as she continues to rock back and forth against him, desperately seeking friction to relieve this ache in her core. Finally, her hips move upwards just enough, causing her heat to grind against Eddie's throbbing cock. A strained groan escapes his lips, forcing him to break away from the kiss.

"Honey, do you... Um.." he seems conflicted, debating whether or not he should finish that thought. She looks at him, trying her best to catch her breath as she waits for him to complete his sentence.

"Uh... fuck... I don't have condoms..." he says reluctantly, palming his forehead. He begins to shift backwards, clearly understanding that this unfortunate hitch in their desired plan shouldn't be ignored.

This hitch doesn't seem to phase her though, as she softly shakes her head and leans in for another kiss. "I don't care... Just pull out. Please, i need this." she desperately moans into his mouth.

Eddie is less than convinced, knowing that the responsible thing to do would be to post-pone their sexual activities until he can get proper protection. She moves to his neck, gently planting kisses before whispering in a needy tone into his ear: "I need you, Eddie... Please... Please fuck me"

Eddie never knew he had thing for begging until this moment, but apparently that was all it took for him to throw common sense out of the window. He groaned, half in lust, the other half in slight defeat as he knew how grave the consequences could be, but nevertheless he caved. He kissed her passionately, tangling his hand into her hair. His free hand found it's way to her ass, as he grabbed a fistful and gently squeezed. She lifted herself up onto her knees in response, readjusting so she could line herself up to his member. Once there, she began grinding her hips against him, transferring her slick onto him. Eddie already felt like he was gonna bust from the friction alone, but was holding on for dear life, not wanting this moment to be over one second too soon.

As though she had heard his thoughts, she gave him one more deep kiss before smiling excitedly, and lifting her hips up once more. Eddie took the hint and took his hard cock into his hand, stroking it a few times before lining it up to her entrance. As soon as he felt the tip begin to probe at her tight hole, his eyes shut tightly and a guttural moan left his mouth. He forced himself to open his eyes once more, not wanting to miss the girl of his dreams sinking down onto him in pure bliss and pleasure.

When she finally started to sink down on his length, she couldn't help the small gasp that escapes her lips. She froze momentarily as she presses her lips together. Eddie admires her, thinking she truly is a sight for sore eyes. He brings his hand up to gently caress her cheek while he stares at her beautiful features. Her brows are tightly knit and her eyes shut. He begins to trace along her cheek with his thumb in a comforting way. “You okay?” He asks in a hushed tone, as he patiently waits for her to resume her movements.

She snaps out of her meditation and looks down at him, shooting him a timid smile. “Sorry…M’not used to it”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow, unsure of the meaning behind her comment. “Oh, are you…uh..” he trails off, he can't imagine that he would be her first, unless her previous relationship just wasn't a sexual one...

She quickly realizes that her comment was misinterpreted and quickly acts to clarify. “No, god no…” she giggles before continuing. “I mean I’m not used to it being so big…” She sighs once more as she makes another attempt at lowering herself onto him, her eyes fluttering as she does.

Eddie can’t help but feel a huge rush of adrenaline as her words give him confidence. Soon enough, she begins moving once more causing him to groans while his head falls onto the pillow. His hand that was once holding her cheek falls by his side as he brings the other one to rest on her hip. He squeezes it encouragingly as she slowly, but finally sits perfectly on his entire length. She takes a moment to get used to the feeling. Eddie’s eyes sparkle with admiration as they dart from her beautiful face to her chest, slowly rising as she sighs in pleasure. She's grinding against him as she tries to get used to the feeling of being so full. Her nails that were resting on his chest begin to slowly drag along his skin as she lifts her body, only to slam it back down onto his. This causes Eddie to groan once more, only this time its much louder, needier. She smirks down at him and begins setting a slow but steady pace.

Her jaw becomes slack and her eyes gloss over as it is now her turn to admire the man below her. Though she had fantasized about this moment many times before, nothing compared to the present. Both of his hands had made their way to her hips, slowly guiding them to keep up with the pace she had set. Eddie’s low moans were music to her ears, but she craved more. She bent down to kiss him whilst still riding him at a steady pace. As she began to focus more on the kiss, her movements faltered slightly. Eddie took this as his cue to take over, snapping his hips upwards at a quicker pace. The sudden movement drew a lewd moan from her and she began to whine into the nape of his neck.

"Fuck, you feel so good sweetheart" he rasped as he continued to pound into her. "Been dreamin' about this..."

Her stomach fluttered as she processed his words and she moaned in response. Hearing Eddie being so vocal was a stark contrast to her previous relationship and it ignited a fire deep within her. She liked it. Alot. She was definitely the vocal type during sex as well, but always held back per her ex boyfriend's request to "tone it down". Given how vocal Eddie was, it just felt natural to do the same. She began moaning and whimpering more freely, as a way of testing out the waters. This seemed to be received well as Eddie responded with an even needier groan from hearing her. She planted a kiss on his neck before moving to regain control of the pace, returning to her previous position. She expertly rolled her hips with deep, slow movements. The friction caused by her clit brushing against his pubic bone was sending her over the edge. Eddie noticed right away as he felt her walls tighten and her legs get shakier.

'Yeah, that's it baby..." he encouraged breathily, admiring the way she moved on top of him. "Ride it out..."

"M'so close... Love feeling you..." she whimpered in a hushed, whiney tone.

Eddie swore he had died and gone to heaven, he was enamored by her beauty and so incredibly close himself, he was certain this had to be a dream. He adored seeing her in this position, so much so that he grew desperate to know how she would look underneath him. He swiftly halted her movements by placing both of his hands on her hips. "Let me get you there." he pleaded, quickly flipping her onto the bed and getting on top of her.

She spread her legs, allowing enough space for Eddie to settle between them. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, then her lips as he, without warning, slid into her tight core once again. She sighed in pleasurable relief, the new position feeling amazingly unfamiliar. Eddie was quick to set a rapid pace, wanting to get her to where she so desperately wanted to be. The sound of his balls smacking against her ass along with whimpers and moans were echoing throughout Eddie's small home. Soon enough, she could feel the all too familiar ache begging to be released from her lower abdomen. Her breathing quickened as she chased the high. Eddie's bangs began to cling onto his forehead as small beads of sweat began to form. His arm muscles were very prominent as he propped himself up, fucking her senseless.

"Come on baby, cum for me." he encouraged breathily, feeling his own release fast approaching. He shifted his position slightly, hitting her g-spot perfectly, again and again. She moaned loudly, screwing her eyes shut as she felt her orgasm fast approaching.

"Fuck, Eddie! Right there!" she blubbered, struggling to get the words out between quick gasps.

Eddie took her words as a challenge and began fucking into her quicker and harder than before, desperate to see her come undone. His movements made her exclaim, expelling what little air was left from her lungs before she quickly took a sharp breath in.

"Ed's, I'm cumming!" she gasps, screwing her eyes shut. Eddie feels her tightened walls begin to spasm as her orgasm crashes into her. He continues to pound into her while she rides out the high, trying to get to his own release.

"I love you" she breathily whines, completely fucked out. Eddie's movements falter, and his rhythm slows. He can't comprehend what just happened. All he knows is that her words are actively pushing him over the edge. He moans while he reluctantly pulls out, spilling his seed into his hand as he pumps his dick a few times, letting out strained moans. A few seconds pass before he opens his eyes again and his knees give out from under him. His gazes falls upon her, laying on her back still, gazing at him lovingly while still catching her breath.

He returns a loving smile in her direction while chuckling lightly and shaking his head. He breathes in deeply then gets up to retrieve some well needed tissues from his desk. As the true gentleman he is, he prioritizes her comfort over his and gently cleans her up. She winces slightly over the sensitivity but thanked him nonetheless, blushing slightly. After tossing the used tissues into his small trash bin, he climbed into bed, tugging the blanket up so they could both be covered once again. They settled in bed, cuddling up to one another, despite how hot and humid the small bedroom had gotten from their heated night.

The feeling of discomfort grew, resulting in Eddie reluctantly getting out of bed to open the small window in his room. His hopes that the night would offer a cool breeze were met with satisfaction as he felt instant relief from the cracked window. He hurriedly got back into bed, desperate to feel her close once more.

As she lay on his chest, she was growing anxious at her spontaneous love confession mid-climax. She cursed herself, fearing that, despite how true her words were, they were spoken far too soon. She tried to muffle her overthinking thoughts, opting to sleep and deal with them tomorrow.

"Night Eds..." she quietly spoke, raising her head off of his chest to give him a small peck on his abdomen.

Goodnight... "he responded, squeezing her arm lovingly.

The room grew silent, long enough for her to start feeling drowsy, mere seconds away from slumber, when Eddie leaned over. He kissed the top of her head a few time then uttered ever so quietly: "I love you too, by the way."

the end

Thank you for being so kind & patient with me while i wrote this out!! I'm sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoyed it :")

Thoughts & comments are appreciated!♡

Tag List: @addie0ffset , @thatmultifandomlovingmf , @took-me-hours-to-steal-those , @basketcaseeeeee , @erinsingalong , @captainonaboat , @ghosttownwherenoonegoes , @bimbobaggins69 , @mygirlchaos , @mrsjellymunson

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson oneshot #angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x hurt/comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiic #eddie munson x female reader #st4 eddie #hurt/comfort #eddie munson smut

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omgcatboi · 8 months ago

Note

Are you a “eat until death” type of person? I know you want to get fatter, but 800 pounds is a lot…

Answer below the cut (:

I'm not sure how to read the intentions behind this anon, rather they be good or bad. But I'm going to answer anyways because I do get asked this from time to time.

( disclaimer because I can already hear people trying to argue with me, but my aunt who was 700 pounds lived until her 60's and she was fat her entire life, so no, she didn't die immediately from gaining weight. Nor will I. )

Am I an ' eat until death ' type of person;

I absolutely am, but I limit my ' death feedism ' posting here ( as well as tag it ) and am thinking of making another side blog to remove that posting from here entirely for the comfort of my followers. I'm not eating with intention to end myself, I just feel like life is what you make of it and anything can happen at any point to cut us a short deal. Also, my cultural beliefs are that the entire purpose of life is to experience it. So that's what I want to do. Death isn't the end goal, and I do eat many healthy foods ( and encourage it often on my blog so that other feedees can gain weight more healthily. ) I just know I wanna get as big as possible, and that may bring along a good handful of complications that can result in death.

TW ; talk of fascism and American imperialism as well as transphobia / legislation enforcing bigotry.

Also, not to get all doom and gloom but look at the state of this world. Look at the dying planet we have limited time on. Each day a new fascist bill gets passed here in America alone. If death takes me out this hellscape then it's doing me a hell of a favor, because there IS no other way out. Not without a ton of money for a passport and applying for citizenship overseas as well as paying American taxes AFTER moving out. And even then, America IS the empire of our age. It influences the rest of the world. And it has already been invading other countries and enforcing fascist dictatorships either directly or indirectly for MANY years now. So even if I COULD hypothetically move out, I'd still be at risk of being under Americas extreme rule anyway. Or worse, I'd end up in a situation like P/lestinian just like Vi/tnam was.

I know what I'm saying is dark and depressing, as well as anxiety inducing, but I'm showing that I've put plenty of thought behind this decision. Just like I did before starting HRT even tho I ALWAYS knew I am trans. And I don't need anyone trying to talk me out of the lifestyle I am living. Besides, with my genetics, I'm going to keep gaining regardless. It happened to my aunt who was roughly 700 pounds, and even then, she was near her 60's when she passed. I'm only gaining faster, not less. ( And she wasn't gaining intentionally, she just didn't care about fitting into other people's idea of what she should be and what she should do. )

In her 60's

60'S

I don't want to be old and wrinkly ( no hate tho those who are ) I don't want to live that damn long ( like 70's and older ) just. Nah. I'm good.

I'm just enjoying my time while I have it.

( this next part is not about people with triggers who are triggered by death feedism or very fat bodies. So if that is you, stop exposing yourself to this bc I tagged it and talked about it plenty before getting to this point of the post. )

And as a footnote to anyone who may be reading this, if you have an issue with people getting ' too big ' 1) you need to check that way of thinking because you ARE in the feedism / fat kink community. And that INCLUDES people who are, gasp, suprise, FAT. And 2) you should spend some time reflecting on what lead you to harboring that way of thinking.

Not saying this anon holds these views at all, I'm just mentioning it because it is my blog and we are on the topic. ( Plus I'm Knipping everything in the bud now as far as the group of people who will try and spew any level of fatphobia at me for this. In which case I'm not even going to read what y'all say, I'm just going to block you lol. )

One love and allat 😌

#fatty answers #tw death feedism #death feedism #death feedee #death feedist

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meditating-dog-lover · 4 months ago

Text

Skin and health update

I am feeling better.

I got a steroid shot on Tuesday and have been taking prednisone daily since then. It's a 5 day course, so I'll be done with that tomorrow.

My eczema and heat rash cleared up. I've also been using ketoconazole on the infected spots. Those are clearing up too, but it's taking longer. My mom believes that my inflamed neck and ear patches are fungal infections and not eczema, and she's right because they are clearing up with the ant-fungal cream.

Even that infection alone can trigger some inflammation, which can make eczema worse. Because it's a hidden infection. I'll feel better once the entire infection is killed.

And sometimes things are out of my control, like the environment and weather and products I use on my skin. So here, getting a steroid shot/prednisone can help.

I've been drinking aloe juice and following an anti-inflammatory diet. I know diet helps a lot and my skin has been less inflamed since I started eating slightly better. My diet before wasn't bad, but I just wanted to make it more anti-inflammatory. Aloe is great for gut inflammation and is anti-microbial and soothes the intestinal lining. It's a nice and refreshing thing to drink in the morning before I go to work.

Yesterday was Friday and I normally eat out on Fridays. My skin was fine, maybe a tiny bit itchy. But it's fine overall because my overall diet is fine and I'm taking the prednisone. Diet is one piece of the puzzle, but it's so important. Killing any hidden infections as well, as those can cause immune system dysregulation and can absolutely be a source of inflammation. Taking prednisone for things out of my current control like the weather and environment and topical products/chemicals can help.

The next step would be to meet with my primary care provider fur my annual exam in a few days and ask about stress and hormones. Stress can absolutely make skin inflammation worse, and hormonal imbalances can likely as well (in the context of elevated cortisol and it's downstream effects on estrogen, progesterone, and insulin). I do have insulin resistance which I know stress is contributing too. I will focus on stress relief and will ask about inositol. I lost a lot of weight recently and eat healthy, but my stress has been over the top. So I know something like stress relief can help, and I know inositol helps with PCOS/insulin resistance (I don't have PCOS though).

I was able to find a practice in my area that offers autism testing for adults. It is so hard to find any locations that offer services for adults, and it's usually expensive and out of pocket. For what it's worth I don't mind anymore. I just want to get the test done and get answers, especially for something I've been struggling with hiding and masking for almost 30 years. It will explain all the anxiety and stress and trauma I've been dealing with.

So my skin is better. I'm just taking the prednisone and ketoconazole for now as well as following an anti-inflammatory diet and drinking aloe juice. I've been taking a break from my supplements and want to ask my doctor if I can take them. I also want to ask about hormone balancing and to see if this is linked to my skin inflammation (I know stress/cortisol are because my skin gets inflamed when I am stress and sleep deprived and sometimes when I wake up first thing in the morning because this is when cortisol levels are higher).

I went to bed late yesterday and experienced some hand itchiness. I was sleep deprived.

I'm going to book an appointment for the autism testing. I'm really looking forward to all of this.

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caffeinatedopossum · 2 years ago

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Tw ed recovery talk (also sorry this is INCREDIBLY long. I had a lot to say)

I think the reason I never talked much about my ed recovery is because in my opinion, the majority of ed recovery "inspiration" or encouragement I see (or get unsolicited in replies or asks or reblogs) aren't for me and quite frankly these things are way more triggering than accidentally stumbling upon thinspo or something has ever been for me.

They're also overly positive imo and used to make me feel like I could simply never recover because I couldn't hold onto that mindset. It was just unrealistic for me.

They usually only take into account neurotypical cisgender people (especially women but that's getting better) who are able bodied, had their eating disorders relatively short term, haven't had multiple failed recovery attempts already, and are at least wealthy enough to reliably afford food, new clothes that will fit when/if they gain weight, and healthcare. None of these things apply to me and its impossible for me to recover the same way a person under those circumstances would.

For example, I can't just love my body. My body brings me a lot of pain and distrust and holds very little value to me. I don't enjoy eating as much as I think other people do. I have sensory issues heavily tied in with my ed. I can't cook. At the beginning of recovery, I physically couldn't eat or afford food and I still haven't gotten proper clothes. I don't know when I will be able to. I've had my ed for almost a decade. I can't eat intuitively due to adhd and autism and need someone to tell me when I should eat. I have permanent damage from my ed that will never go away.

Instead of seeking out positivity and encouragement, I retreated to what I needed- which was time, understanding, people to talk to, and honestly to just get it (the first few months of recovery) the fuck over with. I don't feel like I ~chose~ to recover or that I had some grand motivation for doing so. Recovery even initially made me intensely suicidal, made my anxiety and ptsd worse, worsened my sensory issues and my chronic pain significantly all before I noticed any positive impact.

Not much has even changed since considering myself fully recovered- well, things *have* definitely changed, but they're not better. They just are what they are. In some weird way where the suffering and happiness balance out and are equal to that of when I gave in to my disorder.

I don't want my pain to be pushed aside, I want to understand it. Because there's a lot of it and the more I shove it into the closet, the more it will bury me when that door is opened again. Moral of the story, if you think it's impossible for you to recover it isn't. But it is possible that you don't have what you need in order to make it happen right now and thats okay. Take your time and try to understand yourself. I'll always be here if you need advice or to vent or to talk to someone who will try to understand.

#pretty sure this is like my longest post ever sorry guys #i really needed to say this stuff #thank you if you were patient enough to read it all

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ahhscheisse · 2 years ago

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trigger warning: the american healthcare system

i used to drive almost an hour to a specific clinic where every doctor i needed worked and they were great. everyone knew how to properly care for queer, disabled, fat, poor, etc people. they told me once that they don’t pressure patients to lose weight so if i ever had questions on how to do so, if ever i wanted to, i was welcome to ask, but it wasn’t their priority unless it was *my* priority. they didn’t act like every symptom i had was the result of my size or what they thought i was eating/not eating. they used my pronouns. they used my name before i’d even changed it. even their pharmacists used my chosen name BEFORE I HAD EVEN EVER TALKED TO THEM. they didn’t make me feel like i was stupid. they didn’t make me feel bad when i couldn’t afford to spend a bunch of money on vitamins. they went out of their way to treat everyone - even if we couldn’t give them money.

so today i cave and see a new doctor. they’re closer and still exist (old clinic is barely staying afloat because of covid). it wasn’t terrible but i walked out feeling worse. i was put on a diet even tho i never agreed to it. they want me in every three months to be weighed - even tho i’m agoraphobic and was visibly falling apart in the office. i caved and spent $41 on vitamins. i was made to feel so fucking stupid for not taking vitamin d. i was made to feel stupid for not having any answers about my deteriorating health because it’s been five years living like this - even tho i made it clear that for most of those years, the clinic i went to was struggling to stay afloat and keep their doctors, and i was told over and over and over, “we suspect it’s severe anxiety, but we will run tests,” just to get a call saying the doctor was fired because of budget cuts, which meant starting from scratch.

i’m not saying i’ve been taking perfect care of myself, or that i couldn’t have done more or left sooner, but after so many years of finally being treated like a human being by doctors, y’know, feeling cared about and being talked to in words someone who isn’t also a fucking doctor (me) can understand… i wanted to hang on for as long as i could because seeing someone who just. ignored significant parts of my identity, who didn’t let me choose whether i even could swing an expensive diet, who made jokes about how stupid she thought it was that i wasn’t doing this or that or the other. and knowing i have no other options. that i can’t go anywhere else because there is no one else. it sucks.

#personal

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missussnarky · 2 years ago

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Yesterday was difficult, and I say that as one who’s struggled with eating disorder (obesity), cptsd, anxiety, and major depression for decades now. No, yesterday I discovered there may be an additional struggle added to my roster of shit-I-gotta-somehow-cope-with: perimenopause.

I hurt my foot to the point of inability to walk without a cane or walker in 2020. I won’t get into the details of it here, but being morbidly obese was obviously making the pain worse. So, in an effort to manage the pain, over the past couple years, I’ve managed to lose roughly 100lbs through alternating rounds of calorie deficit and keto. Was super rough, especially since I still indulged my habit of binging in between. It’s significantly helped the pain, and I’m able to walk on my foot, but it’s still there, just not as severe.

The weight loss struggle was a process both inhibited and aided by a therapy for my cptsd called EMDR, which, generally defined, connects both neurospheres of the brain to help process emotional responses to stimuli with the more logical parts so immediate reactions to “triggers” are quelled as much as possible. This forced me to face feelings and thoughts I’d buried for years, thus causing me to fall back into feeding my emotions until the following therapy sessions that seemed to calm down the anxiety, so I’d get back on track again. And then…

Bills started adding up to the point our family couldn’t manage my continued treatment. So for the past 6 months, I’m only partially completed with my EMDR progress, and may even have to start over. Since, me dieting, as much as I’ve tried, has essentially failed.

Meanwhile, I’ve also been experiencing strange menstrual cycles. They’ve been mostly on time, but alternating between flows two week’s duration that require multiple packs of super plus with heavy duty pads, to mere spotting throughout a few days. Hot flashes happen at the worst times possible, of course and medications I’ve been taking for depression and anxiety has stopped working for around two years. I thought maybe I just needed adjustments, but none of the medications they gave me worked, and had side effects that I could not deal with.

Fed up, yesterday I started looking into how perimenopause can manifest, and it dawned on me that while I have all these things going on, my hormones were steadily reeking their havoc in the background undetected and unbeknownst to anyone. Can’t afford to go to the OB atm, but I was initially informed that I may have pmdd before the perimenopausal symptoms were noticeable. The cherry on top of all this, one symptom of perimenopause is increased appetite, of which has been insatiable the past few months, even with the appetite suppressant meds my GP prescribed. Great stuff.

Hopefully once I get these medical bills sorted, I can get some answers, and HOPEFULLY continue my much-needed EMDR treatments.

#cw vent #mental health #menopause #perimenopause #medication #medical bills #getting older #obesity #dieting

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escintilarkangela · 1 year ago

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hey im going to rant a little bit but if you read this, this is a !!!CONTENT WARNING!!! because im going to talk about food and weight and health all those things so please scroll away if those topics make you uncomfortable!!!!! I am very emotional so please if anything like this is triggering just don't read. I'm also not tagging this with anything ok i just need to vent.

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I've just been feeling so defeated with my health and it gives me so much anxiety.

My relationship with food has changed so much this year and it's honestly exhausting to figure out what to do because my body has changed so much and i don't have the time or the motivation to follow a meal plan and not slack off.

Since last year I've been at the lowest weight i have ever been i think, and the saddest part is that it's just a result of the fucking destruction that last year was to my mental health.

Im trying to gain the weight back in a healthy way, i can feel the fucking symptoms of how unhealthy my body is, i know my gut is all messed up and it feels so daunting because nothing i do seems to help, and i don't have the willpower to stick to a healthy diet.

I even went to a dietitian and got a meal plan but i can't stick to it because the food i have to eat at work is the worst and at home there's barely ever the right foods. My family tries to help but also doesn't, and i feel like such a burden having to remind everybody that "I can't eat that", that i just end up eating whatever and feeling like shit later.

It just feels like no matter what i do my body is still so unhealthy and just thinking about what to eat for my next meal brings me so much anxiety. I have never had so much dread during mealtime and it just fucking sucks because i am not trying to be vain or thinking about my appearance, I'm just trying to gain my health back and it just seems like i never will have a normal life where i can enjoy food like everybody and not think about causing myself another fucking yeast infection or acid reflux or an allergy or something fucking else.

I just know that the only way to get out of this rut is through diligence and discipline but I'm so depressed at the moment that I don't have the willpower to do anything, it's just a vicious cycle that causes me more and more stress, which makes everything worse. I'm just so fukcing tired

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amistytown · 3 years ago

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The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf.

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao.

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to.

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together.

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest.

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him.

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #my writing

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katierosefun · 2 years ago

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hi caroline can i vent to you a lil bit? i just saw a post with a terrible take about BE and juwon part specifically irked me, probably due to personal experience, so i wanted to share my pov with you.

the post -among many other things- said that juwon had ocd and it was terrible that the writers went "yeah let's just force him to stop by the end of it" and tbh I didn't get it, i always thought that when juwon said "mysophobia, I don't have it" he was right. ocd is an anxiety related issue and my boi definitely has that and it's quite bad yeah. But i always felt like it was due to the fact he was striving to uphold the standards of perfection his father has been projecting onto him since he was a kid. As much as juwon hated him he still tried his best to do everything he could in order to get some sort of praise or acknowledgment from his absent father. So that's why in the end he slowly learns to let go of all of that, he must have felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He's a complex multidimensional character and both the writer and the director did a brilliant job with BE.

Sorry if i bothered you, I'm probably exactly like that post "why do you like him?" or smth and with ds it's just "look at him❤️" and with jw it's an entire paragraph. yup relatable indeed aldhakd

hi anon! oh, i think i know the post you're talking about, because i remember reading something along those lines pretty early when i was getting into beyond evil . . .

also, this got long. maybe because i have a lot of thoughts + also because i wound up talking more about mental illness rep in beyond evil as a whole:

but like. hm. yes, i absolutely agree with you because while i might not have ocd myself, i do have family members + friends with ocd, and i also have pretty severe anxiety + i used to struggle with an eating disorder, which overlapped with some ocd tendencies (at least, according to what my friends/family struggling with ocd told me from their own perception of me). because of that, i absolutely saw joo won and his tendencies and realized that. like. yeah, a lot of his behaviors can absolutely stem from anxiety-driven issues like ocd.

i think what makes me personally upset about the kind of "ugh the writers just dropped joo won's ocd storyline" is that it totally misses the fact that not all mental illnesses or disabilities are quite the same. because mental illnesses like ocd or anxiety disorder or panic attack disorder are actually mental illnesses that people want to better cope with/somehow heal from. when i was younger, i remember being told by someone who was also struggling with similar mental illnesses as mine that "yeah, you're never gonna get 'better'--this thing is gonna stick with you forever", and as a teenager, that really made me scared about like. oh my god. am i going to personally be living this weird half-life for the rest of my days? that's terrible.

but of course, that's not true! yeah, people with mental illnesses like ocd, anxiety, depression, etc--they all struggle from time to time, and that def. all varies with different degrees of stress (ie. my own anxiety and depression gets significantly worse when i've encountered a triggering situation, and my own past eating disorder tendencies like to pop in when i'm feeling stressed out with work/school/etc). but the thing about these mental illnesses is that you can get better, usually with the help of therapy, medication, a support system and, as cheesy as it sounds (but it's true!), compassion and love for yourself.

in the case of han joo won, who has clearly never had a very stable family or friends situation, it would make sense that his own ocd or other unspecified mental illness would be pretty severe at the start of the show. we've seen how he was raised, even if only for 5 minutes--we see his interactions with his father. it seems that his family also has some history of mental illness too, given how his mom was.

but the great thing about the show is that over the course of the series, joo won gets some greater sense of support and love than he had felt in his entire life. even when he was still being a jerk, the station was so accommodating to joo won (ie. chief nam cleaning out the bathroom for joo won if he wanted to take a shower, and then even later, ji hwa telling jae yi that wait, inspector han needs new bowls in a totally nonjudgmental manner).

the thing about han joo won no longer struggling as severely with his ocd is simply because he's received more support. he's found people who seem to genuinely care about him, and i think along the way, he subconsciously started to let go of his tendencies. his entire dirty history is out there--and unlike han ki hwan, who was so obsessed with perfection, the manyang gang love and appreciate han joo won anyways, annoying attitude + messy mistakes + all. ofc, love doesn't "fix" a mental illness, but it helps one get better, because that's what a support system is all about.

it's also worth noting that, like, beyond evil is a show that's very conscious about the discussion around mental illnesses. dong sik pretty clearly struggles with some kind of ptsd, and jeong je pretty clearly struggles with his own depression, and even oh ji hoon's mentioned in passing about struggling with depression. but what i like about beyond evil is that writer kim su jin and director shim na yeon and the entire cast also seemed pretty intent about those depictions of mental illness--oh ji hoon's a pretty sunshine-y looking guy, for starters, all smiles and cheer, which is the exact opposite people assume of those struggling with depression. (the most frustrating thing a depressed person can hear is oh, you don't look like you have depression though?) as for dong sik, we see him pretty clearly struggling on his own (crying alone in the basement, tucking himself away when he's grieving, the fact that he sleeps on the couch without any heat speaks volumes about how little he cares about himself), but as soon as he's around friends or his loved ones, he automatically puts on a whole act. as for jeong je, we see that he's a pretty timid guy, maybe the kind of more expected representation we see of depression and/or anxiety, but maybe that makes a little more sense, given his relationship with an overbearing mother who never really . . . allowed him to heal or get better, even despite sending him to all those doctors.

in short, i think that it's pretty unfair + also kinda narrow-minded to act like writer kim su jin dropped joo won's ocd line. she's been super intentional with everything in beyond evil, and the fact that joo won slowly loosens up on his tendencies was just another factor that really demonstrated how he'd started to get more comfortable around people who actually liked him for who he is, not for this perfect, logical robot that he was pressured into being. human beings are messy! for han joo won, who cries when he's frustrated or angry or getting scolded, being loved and respected and liked gave him enough reason to let go of his own ocd tendencies and get better.

#answered #anon #beyond evil #hm. yeah.#i just know that if beyond evil came out when i was in high school #i would have just cried through every episode bc yeah anon #i look at han joo won esp in the beginning of the show #and i see a lot of what i used to be like when i was really deeply struggling with my own mental illnesses #just like. very closed off. and very much so. uncomfortable with eating with people #or getting dirty or anything #also like fun fact but when i was a kid #i remember having a panic attack because someone hugged me and they had dirt on their shirt #like imagine a little 8 year old girl suddenly going white in the face and whispering that she was having a heart attack #because someone. with literally. two specks of dirt on their shirt. hugged them.#i mean i remember someone laughing at me about that #and none of my teachers would take me seriously and they thought i was just being dramatic and prissy #but like no i remember throwing up as soon as i got home too #so like. hm. yes. han joo won. i understand him.#tw mental illness #tw panic attack #oops this got personal but i feel like. this anecdote. explains at least a little more.#because yes han joo won being represented that way is actually very much so spot on

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buckyskorpion · 4 years ago

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Do Something Bad, Too - Part 5

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: It’s like every single Alpha on the planet won’t rest until they’ve confessed their eternal wish for you to mother their children, and it’s getting old. Luckily, that’s a problem Bucky might be able to fix.

Warnings: language, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of violence

A/N: sooooo..... lets not mention the last time i updated this fic was four years, and get excited that im finally updating!! woo!! i really hope this was worth the wait, im very anxious about letting you guys down. let me know what you honestly think! love u all, thank u for sticking with me

series masterlist | main masterlist | my ko-fi

You stay in Nat’s apartment in the Tower for the rest of your heat, which lasts an entire week. Nat comes and goes throughout that time to make sure you’re drinking enough water, to make you dinner or run you a bath, or sometimes just to keep you company when you’re capable of that. She doesn’t stay long, though, aware her presence just makes the unbearableness of going through heat even worse. She also doesn’t mention Bucky’s clothes or anything about that first day, which you’re immeasurably grateful for. You don’t think you could talk about it without crying.

To say you’re humiliated is an understatement. Mixed with that is all this guilt and shame and self-hatred for inflicting that situation on you and Bucky. Mostly for Bucky. He had made it so very clear he was only comfortable helping you with the scent thing, and even with that there were boundaries. You had blown through them all by showing up to his apartment, triggering both your instincts to do things you couldn’t control, and now he probably resented you enough to never want to see you again.

You don’t blame him. It doesn’t stop it from hurting so much, though.

You’ve well and truly fucked yourself now. Not only is it omega instincts driving you towards Bucky now, but also your own stupid, naive heart. You miss his giant hands and broad shoulders that block out the world for a second, narrowing your scope to just the two of you. You miss the way you can breathe around him, how the world doesn’t feel so scary and foreign to you when he’s by your side. It’s crazy because you weren’t even close, you weren’t even really friends, but now you never will be because you’re so goddamn stupid it’s actually astounding.

Nat’s plan had not worked. And this time, you couldn’t even blame her for this colossal backfire. This is all your handiwork.

You’re back in your office, returning to work once your fever died down and you could stand to be in the vicinity of other alphas without passing out. Maybe you’re tapping rather aggressively on your keyboard, and maybe all the techies on the floor can hear you sigh and groan in frustration every two seconds and are sending you strange looks through the glass. Whatever, you’re their boss, they can’t say anything. Besides, your boss has requested some rather strange security upgrades and you’re not sure if it’s within your job description to email Tony Stark and say what the fuck?

It turns out you don’t have to, because Tony Stark comes to you. It’s not often he takes part in the day to day workings of Stark Industries - that’s your job, after all. But he comes striding into your office eating an apple and wearing sunglasses during the middle of the day, and points a ringed finger at you.

“You’re back,” he says, and you find yourself glancing down at your baby-blue pantsuit just to make sure you are, in fact, back. Stark takes a very pointed breath through his nose and adds, “You smell terrible. This is great!”

“Great?” You can’t help but sound bitter. Your smell is hardly great to you. Even after sweating out your entire body-weight and taking more showers than is considered healthy, you still smell like Bucky. You can’t escape him - not your thoughts, not your heart, and certainly not the way your skin seems to emanate him like he’s crawled underneath and set up shop. It’s embarrassing and humiliating, because it’s not real, and just serves to remind you of the terrible mistake you’ve made. You hope beyond hope Stark doesn’t recognise the other alpha scent clinging to your pores.

“Yes, great. I need your help,” he says, sitting down in a chair opposite your desk. You glance at the specs you have open on your computer, the strange security upgrades he wants you to make to the Tower, and then back to Stark’s million-dollar smile. It’s unsettling. You feel a headache forming before he even opens his mouth.

“If this has anything to do with these emails-“

“Those can wait,” Stark says, waving a dismissive hand at your computer. He lobs his applecore into the bin beside your desk as if to punctuate his point, then says, “This is a request on behalf of the Avengers.”

“Um,” you say, rather eloquently. Avengers? What on earth could they want with you, unless- you groan, rolling your eyes to the ceiling. “Natasha.”

“She highly recommended your expertise,” Stark says, and that headache brewing in your temples blooms into a full-blown migraine. He stands, smooths out his slacks, and says without room for question, “Follow me.”

This is how you end up back in the residential floors of the Tower, much to your chagrin, which Stark seems to pick up on. The closer you get to Bucky’s floor the more fidgety you become, heart racing and skin turning clammy until you watch the numbers fly by and you leave him somewhere in the clouds above Manhattan. The elevator doors ding open to a floor that seems to go on forever, full of gym equipment and fancy simulation tech you figure the Avengers must use to train. You find Natasha’s red head on the sparring mats, tackling someone to the ground with her thighs, and glare daggers as you follow Stark into the room.

“She’s alive!” Natasha calls across the room, ignoring your death glare for a knowing smirk. Her voice echoes through the warehouse-style gym floor, drawing the attention of the others in the room. The Avengers, and all of a sudden you feel like an eighteen year old kid watching aliens attack New York on a grainy satellite TV in the desert again. This is like meeting celebrities on another level. Steve Rogers finishes wrapping his hands as he walks over to you and Stark, Sam Wilson beside him, and Natasha gives Clint Barton a hand to help him up from the mats.

“What have you roped me into now, Nat?” you ask, not bothering to hide your frustration. You’ve just about had it with her meddling, but you should’ve known it was a pipe dream to think she would stop.

“We know you’re very busy, we won’t take up much of your time,” Steve Rogers says, extending a hand and introducing himself like he needs to. Captain America needs no introduction.

“I know who you all are,” you say, giving them a nod. “And you’re right, I am busy. So why am I here?”

“You and Nat must get along like a house on fire,” Clint says, earning him an elbow in the gut from Nat herself. You grin, all sharp in the way Nat tells you looks scary in a hot way, and watch as he subtly shifts behind Nat as if to hide behind her smaller frame. It’s only then that you register the scents mingling between them, and realise that Clint Barton is Nat’s omega. She grins at you, beatific and serene, as if she can read your thoughts and knows exactly what you’ve just figured out.

“Let’s not hold (Y/n) up any longer,” Nat says, grinning in a way that always spells trouble for you. “She’s a woman in high demand.”

Stark leads them to what seems to be a large empty space in the training facility, but it’s soon filled with hologram projections from a tiny Starkpad he pulls from his pocket. You fall into step beside Nat, using your height advantage to glare down at her and convey the level to which you want to strangle her right now. She just loops her arm with yours and kisses you on the cheek, frustrating your attempts at intimidation before you can even begin. Bloody Russian spies, you grumble to yourself as you come a halt in front of the holograms.

You’re looking at building specs, that much is obvious. Why, though, is entirely lost on you. The structure is a tall hexagonal building reminding you of a panopticon, with security floors in the centre and what seem to be prison cells surrounding them. Details jump out from Stark’s hologram - security cameras, miniature guards patrolling the floors, thermally sealed doors and electromagnetic force-fields on the cells. It’s a prison, you surmise, and you’re starting to get a bad feeling as to why you’re here.

You turn to Nat and say, “I’m not going back in the field.”

She pats your arm with only a tiny bit of condescension and says, “I’m not asking you to.”

“You’re my Head of Security,” Stark says, then gestures to the hologram building, “If you can design impenetrable security systems, surely you can undo them.”

“You want me to help you break into this place?” you ask. The team all nod, and you look back at the intimidating, virtual-blue building in front of you. “It’s a fortress.”

“Yeah, they really upped the anti on security since I was in there,” Sam Wilson says, earning him a reproachful look from Steve. It does nothing to soothe the anxiety starting to thread through your chest. Failing the Avengers doesn’t seem like an option, but from where you’re standing, neither is breaking into this facility.

“I’ll need to know what it is first,” you say, “Then I can try and help you. Emphasis on try. I’m not a miracle worker.”

“It’s called the Raft,” Steve says, his face growing stony and set as he talks. “It’s a prison designed for enhanced persons by Secretary Ross. After Germany, I broke Sam, Scott, and Clint out. But Wanda-“

“We need to get her out of there,” Clint says. You pretend not to notice as beside you Nat discreetly takes his hand, rubbing her thumb across his bruised knuckles.

“Leave the search and rescue to us,” Stark says, and you watch him shift uncomfortably under some inscrutable looks Steve and Sam are giving him, “We just need your help on how to get into the joint.”

“Simple,” you breathe, but only Nat laughs. This seems like an impossible task, but from the look of everyone around you, failure isn’t an option. You’re going to have to make the impossible possible. It’s a good thing you’ve had some experience with that - in the military, trapped into sand-filled corners with no foreseeable way out, it really did seem like you were working miracles to stay alive out there. You swallow past a dry mouth and blink through desert-gunked eyes, say, “I’ll need that Starkpad, and some time.”

“You have forty-eight hours,” Stark says. The hologram disappears in a blink as he throws the Starkpad, no bigger than your palm, which you only just manage to catch. Stark clicks his fingers, as if an idea as just occurred to him, and says, “Oh, I almost forget to tell you! The Raft is underwater. Completely submerged, middle of the ocean, super top-secret. Fun, right?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Fun is not the word you you would use. Only forty-eight hours to break into the most secure facility in the country, if not the world? This day couldn’t possibly blindside you anymore.

As if the universe is conspiring against you, FRIDAY’s voice chimes in from overhead speakers to say, “Mr Stark, Sergeant Barnes is on his way to the gym floor.”

You feel your whole body lock up, heart seizing in your chest - Bucky? Here? You weren’t prepared to see him yet, or speak to him. What would you say? How could you apologise for one of the worst crimes you may have ever committed, and you’ve killed people? Natasha unloops her arm from yours, tries to soothe you with a hand on your back but it does nothing for the anxiety shooting sparks throughout your blood stream.

“How many times have I got to tell that illiterate Soviet popsicle, he’s not on the fucking team,” Stark grumbles, storming towards the elevators with a scowl. Steve clenches his fists, glaring after Stark but Sam holds him back. He mutters something only Steve can hear which makes him close his eyes and exhale sharp through his nose - frustrated, but calming by the nanosecond.

It’s a shame nobody thought to do the same for you.

“What did you just call him?” you say, ignoring Natasha’s warning murmur of your name as you follow after Stark. Maybe you still have some residually elevated hormones from your heat, or you really are just a lovesick idiot who can’t control her temper, but whatever it is has you absolutely incensed. Stark stops dead, clearly caught off guard by the venom in your voice, and spins on his heel to stare at you incredulously.

“Excuse me?” he says, blinking owlishly at you as you lean up into his space. You’re aware you’re overstepping the boss/employee line, but you can’t help yourself. The rage is brewing, and with each laboured breath Bucky’s scent grows stronger and stronger until it’s all you can smell. It settles over your skin like armour, and the urge to protect that hold on you, to protect him, is beyond your control - it’s primal.

“Don’t talk about him like that, ever,” you snarl, watching with satisfaction as Stark’s eyes turn round and wide.

He glances behind you towards his friends and says, “Are we sure she isn’t an alpha? Sheesh.”

“Tony,” Natasha warns, but it’s too late. You use the palm of your hand to slam into Stark’s solar plexus. You kick out his kneecap and he drops on one knee, wheezing and gasping for air. It all happens so fast you can’t even think about the repercussions of assaulting your boss, let alone what’s driven you to do it in the first place.

“I don’t need to be an alpha to kick your ass,” you hiss, glaring down at Stark who looks up at you like you have, in fact, lost your mind.

At that moment, the elevator dings and reveals Bucky practically seething behind the elevator doors. He storms in, larger than life - in the week or so it’s been since you’ve seen him, you’ve somehow forgotten how physically intimidating he actually is. You immediately step back from Stark’s kneeling figure, feeling the strange need to hide your hands behind your back like a kid caught with the cookie jar. Bucky glances wildly between you, Stark on the ground, and the ring of Avengers in different states of attempting to intervene. He heaves ragged breaths and is emitting a scent that threatens to take you to your knees, too. Authoritative, powerful, protective.

That submissive, animalistic side of you makes you really hate being an omega sometimes.

“Why is she here?” Bucky asks someone behind you, probably Natasha. He swings his, frankly, frightening gaze to Stark and demands with just as much venom as you had, “What did you do to her.”

“Jesus Christ, nothing!” Stark wheezes, clutching at the spot on his chest you’ve definitely bruised. He points an accusing finger at you and cries, “She hit me!”

“I’m so sorry,” you say, feeling your hands start to shake where you clutch them behind your back. You look to Bucky like maybe he can explain, which makes you sick to your stomach because he’s not yours to look towards. Now, more than ever, that is abundantly clear. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do!” Natasha pipes up behind you, helpful as ever. Bucky glares at her for you this time, releasing you of his burning-hot stare. His gaze has the power to paralyse you, and you need to get away from him, this, all of it - right now. You don’t get a chance to, however, before Natasha once again sticks her foot in it and says, “She was defending your honour, James.”

“Yeah, and I’ve no idea why. One quick google search should tell you he doesn’t need any-“

It takes you a second to realise the snarling, growling sound echoing through the gym is coming from you. Your face burns as you roll your lips together, cutting the sound off completely. For your entire life you’ve been headstrong and confident, but this whole experience with Bucky from the very first day you met him has shaken your entire self-perception. Everything you’ve known has been turned upside down - it was easy when all alphas were assholes, and you were one omega they couldn’t fuck with. Now, you stare down at your shoes and refuse to look in Bucky’s direction because he’s affected you so much you can’t even control yourself anymore. The worst part is that it’s entirely your own doing, because Bucky made it very clear you aren’t the one he wants, so everything you’re doing right now is just incredibly humiliating.

“(Y/n)?” Bucky’s voice makes you shudder. Looking at him would surely make you burst into flames, from embarrassment of the last time you saw him which you can’t even think about, or from the shame of pathetically defending a man who doesn’t want anything to do with you. He doesn’t even want you here, storming up to ask why you’re in his home in the first place.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, giving Bucky a wide berth as you head for the elevators. You can’t get there fast enough, practically sprinting to press the close-door button as fast as you can.

“Wait-“

And then, the absolute worst thing happens. You almost crush the Starkpad still in your hand from clenching your fist so hard - you have to, in order to keep your hands by your sides and not in Bucky’s personal space. Because just as the doors are about to slide closed, he slips in between them and FRIDAY seals you both in. The elevator fills with Bucky Bucky Bucky, just like your heat-addled brain has been chanting at you since you stumbled into his apartment a week ago.

Bucky stares at you wide-eyed, and you stare back just the same. This could possibly be your worst nightmare come to life, especially when the elevator screeches to a halt and FRIDAY’s dulcet tones hammer your fate home.

“I appear to be having some technical difficulties,” FRIDAY says, sounding confused if an AI can sound like anything. “I’m so sorry, I’m trying to fix this. It seems someone is manually overriding my control of the elevator.”

“Nat,” you groan, in unison with Bucky. So that’s it. You’re stuck in an elevator with Bucky and are being forced to face the music, by the powers that be. The powers being Natasha, a no good meddler who is going to be in a world of pain when you get out of here. Alpha be damned.

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rpmemes-galore · 3 years ago

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a few people wanted to know the story, so enjoy. fair warning, its a long, rough read, with a buncha triggers possible throughout. but hey, hey, enjoy, i guess? will probs end up deleting this later today and gonna work on memes. hope y’all are doing okay, take care.

My relationship with my older brother has always been really... rocky. Without going into too much potentially triggering detail, he hurt me a lot when I was younger, so there's a lot of fear surrounding him. Saying that now as the reason for why I could never stand up to him for this.

A few years ago, my family decided that someone should move into our late grandparents home to look after the place, and I immediately volunteered. I loved that home, that farm. There were a ton of good memories there, and I was so excited when my family agreed. But, then my health took a downward turn and it was decided I couldn't live alone due to safety reasons. Enter, my older brother. He was in his late twenties at the time, and parents wanted him to finally move out, so they said he was going to come live with me there to keep an eye on me in case something happened. I wasn't happy about it, but he was the only one who could, and the only way I'd get to live at my late grandparent's place, so I agreed to it.

Right from the start, things were not great. He didn't help unbox anything except for his own belongings... No kitchen stuff, no bathroom stuff, just his clothes and computer. As it was just me doing it, and with my fragile health at the time, it was taking me a long while to get it all done. And that's when my aunt thought it was a great idea to start doing weekly visits, i.e. inspections of the place. She got pissed when she saw things still boxed up after a week of being there, but told me she was willing to look past it if it got put away soon.

I busted my butt getting everything put away, then. But I was contending with other issues at that point. He'd started messing up the house. I would wake up to find garbage and crumbs across the kitchen counters and table, dirty dishes dropped wherever he was closest to, and his dirty laundry dropped on the living room floor. His room started getting bad, as well. From about a month of being there, it started to stink. I went in a few times and there would be dishes with rotting food on his dresser. The floor was covered in a layer of food wrappers and other garbage. Dirty laundry was thrown everywhere. His game discs, which we'll come back to later, would be laying unprotected on the floor.

It just got worse from there. At the start, he'd tidy up a little bit after himself. If I asked politely enough, he'd throw garbage away or bring his dishes out of the room... only if I asked him. Three months in. That changed. He started getting snippy at me, slamming and locking his door if I asked him to do anything around the house. His messes were getting worse, and it was just me trying to play catch-up everyday. It got to the point my morning routine was wake up, head out to the kitchen while picking up any dirty laundry / garbage on the way, gather up dirty dishes from around the room and put them on the counter to wash, wash a few of them just to get a headstart, wipe crumbs off all counters and table, wash the rest of the dishes (I still don't understand how he could use so many in a single night), sweep floors if the crumb situation was bad enough. All this before I'd allow myself to have anything to eat or drink, due to sheer panic of my aunt stopping by unannounced again and seeing the place in this state.

My brother was working a very part time job at the time and, as soon as he left for his shift, I would pounce on his room. I'd haul out armfuls (plural) of dirty dishes which I'd then hurry to wash, I'd carry out at least one full, heavy duty garbage bag of trash. I would try to make his bed after brushing off the crumbs. All this in the few hours I had before he'd get back home. And he would always get incredibly pissed at me for it, which I understand. I know it was an invasion of privacy and, if not for the aunt, I wouldn't have done it... But the state of his room was going to get us both evicted, so I felt justified doing it.

It went on this way for a year and half. During that time, he made me bring his game discs in to get them fixed, had me pay for them, and never paid me back. I wound up in the emergency room on three separate occasions, all due to working myself to the point of over-exhaustion and aggravating already pre-existing health problems. Once, when I was away for a few days, he'd turned my room into a storage room. Ie, he threw all his laundry and belongings on my bedroom floor because he didn't want to deal with them. I wound up having to sort through it and pick it all up. He moved the landline phone into his room, essentially cutting off my contact to the outside world behind a locked door as my cellphone barely had any service there. He took food money from me, against my will, to buy his own... Would eat part of it and let the rest rot in the fridge until I cleaned it out. (important note, I have a lot of dietary restrictions. So it's not like I could just snack on it or share it with him. I just had to deal with him basically stealing my food money, then wasting it on food I couldn't even eat.) He would lock himself in his room anytime the aunt came by, making me have to face her wrath on my own, because I had no lock on my door, and I wasn't allowed to put one on. He would barge into my room uninvited, but get pissed if I went into his. He would expect me to play video games with him and throw a fit if I said no, even after I explained that I had too much cleaning to do and, if he really wanted me to play with him, he would have to lend a hand so it would be done quicker and I might have energy to play. He never did. He wouldn't empty out our cat's wet food and would just let it go moldy if I wasn't there for a few days... and would 'forget' to refill her water.

The only jobs he was expected to do around the house were emptying the cat litter for our one cat and vacuuming, both things I physically couldn't do because of severe asthma. And once a week, he was supposed to bring laundry over to our parents place to wash, as we didn't have a washer or dryer. I remember him vacuuming once the whole time we were there. He rarely emptied the cat litter, which meant I would wind up having to do it once in a while and just suffer through a serious asthma attack afterwards. He also rarely brought the laundry over. I wasn't able to drive, so I would wind up having to ask my mom to bring it over with her when she visited. Three jobs. He hardly ever did any of them, but still expected the house to be clean when our aunt stopped by and would be upset if it wasn't. He just didn't want to have a hand in getting it that way.

On the subject of other family, I tried reaching out. My parents would visit on occasion. They both knew how bad it got, they'd seen it at the worst. I'd even called my mom in a full crying panic more than once, when the aunt called in the morning to say she she'd be there in an hour... And the house wasn't clean. Mom had to come over and help me speed clean it, with me working through a full-blown panic attack, scared I wouldn't have it "clean enough" by the time the aunt got there. Mom is also the one who drove me into the ER. She knew how bad it was, but he was her golden child. The "can do no wrong" child, and I was always the problem. She would tell me I was making it out worse than it was, that it wasn't that bad, that it wasn't his fault he was messy, that I should just deal with it and clean up after him. Dad would at least seem sorry for me. He'd tell me he wished my brother would clean up after himself, but that there was nothing he could do. Aunt just didn't want to hear my excuses. She would yell at me for the state of the place, after I'd worked myself half to death cleaning already. She blamed me for it, threatened to kick us out over every tiny thing wrong. Made passive aggressive comments. Took pictures and said she would show them to the rest of our relatives so they'd know how we were destroying the house, ect.

A year and a half of this. I lost a dangerous amount of weight. I hardly slept, hardly ate, anxiety spiked so badly I was having panic attacks at least once a week, especially toward the weekend when I knew the aunt was coming. All of my days were devoted to cleaning up after him. I dropped hobbies just to wash dishes or pick up his garbage. I even pulled an all-nighter just trying to make the house look presentable... After I'd been in the hospital and spent a few days at my parents place recuperating, so you can imagine the state of the house.

Toward the year and a half mark, I met my now husband. When we decided he should come spend the weekend, I was both happy and terrified. I worked myself to the point of passing out to make the place look decent. I asked my brother to help, told him we would be having company, and was met with a slamming door in my face while he went back to his video games. Now husband came up, we had a great time and chose to make it a weekly thing.

It was about a month into that when I went away for the weekend with my then bf. At this point, he kind of knew how bad it could get and just wanted to get me out of there for a few days. He'd even given my brother a piece of his mind for not emptying the cat litter and making me do it, because of my asthma. So brother hated him. Told me to break up with bf for being "rude" to him. Even called my mom to complain about it and it I got chewed out by my mom for "letting" my bf at the time talk to my brother that way. I was beyond sick of brothers bullcrap. I was exhausted. Had been in the ER just recently because of him, again, and needed to get away. Bf took me up to a cabin and we spent the weekend there, had an amazing time. And brought me home. From the second I stepped back into the farmhouse, I wanted to cry. It was an absolute disaster, like the brother had gone out of his way to destroy the place. So much garbage, laundry, dishes, ect. I said goodbye to the bf, who was horrified and reluctant to leave... And I started trying to make a dent in the horror show that was the house. It didn't take long for me to breakdown. When I called the bf that night to make sure he'd gotten home safe, I told him how bad it was. And he invited me to move in with him. I jumped at that chance for more reasons than one.

Brother took immediate issue with this. He threw a fit when I told him. Straight up told me I was being selfish, that I didn't appreciate all he did for me, that how dare I leave, how could I DARE to move in with someone who talked to him that way!! I just packed up a few of my things and went with the bf. Just like that. I was out.

It was three months before I went back to grab a few more of my things. In that time, brother had gotten an eviction notice from our aunt and was having to move back in with the parents. And I don't blame her one bit. Let me paint a picture for you of what I saw when I walked in the house: he'd run out of room for garbage on the counter and table, it was stacked too high, so.. he'd opened the oven, pulled the racks out and was piling garbage up on them, instead. Guess what the only place that didn't have garbage was... The pristine garbage can. The living room floor was covered in his dirty laundry. He had run out of clean dishes and resorted to using Tupperware lids as plates, with the dirty dishes covering the entire counter by the sink or stacked in his room. Speaking of, I caught a glance inside his room. The smell was worst in there. I could tell there was food in there from the time I left... Didn't try to take a step inside, obviously, not that there was a place to step. Keep in mind, this is AFTER the aunt had visited and demanded he cleaned up. She'd seen it this way, blew her top, and he still didn't give a crap. I, on the other hand, panicked. Call it ingrained at this point, but I started frantically cleaning. It was only my bf who stopped me. Had to actually grab my hands and hug me to get me to stop, with me hyperventilating and close to a panic attack. We got my things and got the hell out of there. But not before I noticed my brother seemed upset that I hadn't cleaned up while I was there.

Brother's living back with our parents and has trashed his room there. He's still pissy at me for calling him out on the way he treated me, and thinks I'm still required to be nice to him because mom says I should... and that he did absolutely nothing wrong with the way he behaved. He's also still holding a grudge against my hubby for him having the utter gall to tell him to be an adult and clean up after himself. Mom still denies it was bad (even though she's dealing with it now) or that I have anything residual from that time, despite the fact I told her that I get panicky and shaky when the place I'm living, now, gets even slightly untidy.

For me, I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm essentially no contact with my brother and limited contact with my mom. Just got married. Living with someone who loves me and actually helps with housework, even without being asked! Still dealing with the trauma of living in a place that felt THAT stressful and unsafe, but working on it. Not holding out much hope of brother realizing how entitled he was / is, but eh. He's not worth the time thinking about him.

#not a meme #long post #long post for ts

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bebx · 3 years ago

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Hi!

Would you mind answering a few questions just so satisfy my curiosity? I would like to know which you think is more likely/which you prefer.

Is Thor a morning person or does he like to sleep in late and has trouble waking up?

Similarly, is Loki a morning person or not?

Does Loki eat a lot and doesn't gain weight because magic consumes a lot of energy or does he have a rather hostile relationship with food and doesn't eat a lot.

Do you think Loki is exclusively a tea person or does he like coffee too? (Or maybe he drinks coffee only because of Mobius).

Thank you!!

1. I believe Thor is absolutely a night owl. Like I’m 99.99% sure he canonically only goes to bed after like 3 in the morning, or idk… parties till sunrise and only wakes after noon. I can picture Frigga scolding him about the habit, and while Thor respects and listens to her, he’s, you know, Thor. And in the end, Frigga kind of only rolls her eyes, because while Thor’s partying habits aren’t exactly ideal for a prince, it’s not like he causes anyone any harm except for maybe some occasional bar fights.

2. Contrary to Thor, I believe Loki is a morning person. He barely, if not at all, drinks or parties, even if Thor insists he comes hang out with him and his friends at the bar. I mean Loki has always liked being included in Thor’s circle, but partying — where people get wasted, shouted and fought — just isn’t who he is. I don’t think he’d stay up late at night very often either. In his own room, if it was one of those rare occasions where he didn’t go to bed early, he’d be reading something in the comfort of the silence.

3. I should put a trigger warning for ED here, because I think Loki’s relationship with food hasn’t been exactly healthy in a long time. I don’t think he eats a lot, not because he’s worried about his weight but because he simply doesn’t feel like eating. Maybe it has something to do with Asgardian food and how they’re not made for his Jotun anatomy. Or maybe it also has something to do with his issues — anxiety or even fear that he’s not worthy, not loved, always a nobody in Odin’s eye — which he’s developed in his early adulthood, taking away his appetite without him even knowing or noticing, since it’s not bad enough that he dramatically loses weight, but it’s still there and it affects his eating habits. Unfortunately, it got worse after the Bifrost event, after Thanos and everything he’s been through in the last several years.

4. Loki is a tea person, I think. Warm tea helps put his mind at ease whether he’s reading and trying to keep his head clear, or feeling stressed about something. I mean I can also picture him with a cup of coffee from time to time, but if I had to guess, I’d say he preferred tea.

#my inbox is open #loki #thor #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki series #marvel #mcu #mcu loki #marvel cinematic universe #tom hiddleston #chris hemsworth #twhiddleston

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ketamineharry · 4 years ago

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Scars To Your Beautiful - Joshua Bradley

Requested: No, this was just something I wanted to get out there as a love letter to all of the stunning people reading this xx

Trigger Warnings: Hints at an eating disorder, self-harm

You sat on your sofa, in the apartment that you shared with your boyfriend, Josh. He had just finished recording one of his Zerkaa Thursday’s and had come to sit down with you. He wrapped an arm around you, placing a kiss on your cheek, as he grabbed his phone.

“I’m gonna order some food, ya boy’s hungry. D’ya want anything?” He asked, as he opened the Deliveroo app.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m really tired actually. So I’m gonna head to bed.” You informed him, as you gave him a kiss and made your way to your bedroom. The hunger pains made themselves known instantly. Stabbing you, as they reminded you just what you were doing this for. If you were ever going to be good enough for Josh, you needed to be thinner, prettier, nicer, the list went on. The prettier and nicer part, was going to take a bit more time… But, you could start getting thinner by just not eating much, counting the calories.

You got changed into your pyjamas, the clothes, which were once a snug fit, hung around you loosely like the trophy you quite literally wore for starving yourself and losing the weight you so desperately wanted to get rid of. Flinging the duvet back, you got into bed, trying to get yourself to sleep, making a silent promise to yourself that you were going to eat less tomorrow. That you wouldn’t feel so guilty about eating an apple for breakfast, because you would skip breakfast entirely.

Soon enough, Josh joined you in the bedroom. He got into his nightwear and made his way into bed. His face, a concoction of concern and worry. He swallowed hard, as if he was going to approach a tough topic, you were unsure of what because as far as you were concerned everything was fine.

“I’m really worried about you, Y/N.” He said, breaking the silence. His voice laced with concern. “You haven’t eaten properly in so long. You haven’t been yourself in even longer. I don’t know what I can do to make you feel better. I don’t even know how I can make it better. I need you to communicate with me, please.” He begged.

“Why are you even with me? Out of all the gorgeous, thin girls in the world. You chose me.” You whispered softly, the shame of it almost too much to bear.

“Because, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met. You’re funny, honest and loyal. Your eccentricity brightens up my life, there're so many jokes that I’m old and boring but with you every day I feel young and reckless. From the moment I met you, you have breathed fresh air into these old lungs. How could I not love you?”He told you, matter-of-factly, as he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you into him. A soft kiss shared between you both, before he pulled away.

“I think it might be a good idea if we go shopping tomorrow. I know you always feel better when you get a new outfit. Especially since these pyjamas are practically hanging off of you now. You need something that fits a little bit better.”

You thought about it for a moment, the fear of Josh seeing the mess that you were, was all consuming. It made you want to scream, no. Tell him that he was selfish. But the fact of the matter was, he wasn’t being selfish. He was trying to do what he did best, he was trying to help you. You just didn’t know how to respond, you had tried to keep this so private. Keep it as your issue. That you didn’t realise how obvious you had made things. He had noticed way too quickly.

“I’d like that, but only if we get shoes to match too.” You bartered, knowing that he would agree to it.

You held Josh’s hand as you entered New Look, the constant anxiety that someone was looking at you, was overwhelming. Josh led you to the jeans aisle, as he picked up a pair and held them up. Waiting for your approval. They were pretty decent, so you simply nodded your head. He placed them into the shopping basket you had picked up.

Soon enough, you had found a plain black bodysuit to go with the jeans. As the design was so simple, it would help build more than one outfit. The only thing missing was a nice pair of white trainers.

“I’m gonna try and find the changing rooms. I’ll be back in a second.” You informed him, very aware that the moment that you slipped away from him that your anxiety would increase tenfold. But, the alternative of having him come with you and actually witness what you had done to yourself, was worse. Way worse.

The cloakroom attendant gave you a smile as she led you to a changing room. You stepped inside and closed the curtain, thankful for some sort of privacy. As you looked yourself up and down in the mirror, before taking any of your clothing off, you could just feel yourself becoming physically ill. It had been a while since you had seen yourself in any type of mirror, tending to try and avoid anything with a reflective surface.

You turned your back to the mirror, hoping that once you couldn’t see yourself, you’d feel better in this new outfit. That this outfit would somehow cure how you had been feeling about yourself and heal all of the wounds that that sentiment had caused. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the angry slashes that you had left on your arms, reflecting back at you in the mirror. The silver lines of the scabs as your body tried to heal itself, presented themselves like some sort of wicked trick that your mind was playing on you. Reminding you just how powerful it was. How your mental health had been controlling you.

The overwhelming thoughts turned into dizziness. Thankfully, it was the type of dressing room to have a chair in the corner. Against better judgement, you got out your phone and rang Josh. You needed him right now, despite how bad you were going to feel when he saw what you had done to yourself. You needed him to comfort you. The phone rang for two beats, before he picked up.

“I think I’m having a panic attack,” you informed him.

“Stay where you are, I’m coming.”

Josh knocked on the wall, outside of the changing cubicle letting you know that it was him before he stepped inside. Finding you in a mess, your arms that you had tried so desperately to cover for weeks, on show, makeup smudged from crying. The embarrassment of him seeing you like this at all, mixed in with how you were already feeling, felt like your own personal hell.

As Josh took the scene that you had presented him with, in. His face went from anger, to shock, to concern. He enveloped you in a tight hug. You could practically hear his brain processing everything, as he tried to search for the right words to say.

“You are so much more than this.” He said, breaking the silence for the first time since entering the clothing cubicle. “I’m just so angry with myself for not spotting the sign's sonner. I’m your fucking boyfriend Y/N, if you ever feel like this please just come to me. You don’t ever need to suffer on your own, not while I’m here.” He told you softly.

“Now, let’s get this outfit on you, yeah?” He smiled, as he grabbed the bodysuit. Softly pulling it down you as to not catch the healing wounds on your arms. He knelt down, doing up the buttons at the end of the bodysuit for you.

“I want to get my jeans on myself and show you how good this outfit will look.” You told him, attempting a smile. He nodded and informed you he would be just outside if you needed him. You took the jeans off of the hanger and slipped them on. With a deep breath, you walked out to Josh. The nervousness from before, had made itself apparent again.

He looked you up and down, a broad smile plastered across his face.

“Oi there, my peng ting from Barking.” He said, as he chuckled. His laugh was loud and infectious, which caused you to join in. It had been a while since you had properly laughed, it felt like you were on your way back to some sort of normality and it felt good.

#Joshua Bradley #Joshua Bradley imagine #Joshua Bradley x reader #Joshua Bradley oneshot #Zerkaa #Zerkaa imagine #Zerkaa x reader #Zerkaa oneshot #sidemen #sidemen imagine #sidemen x reader #sidemen oneshot

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littlemissagrafina · 3 years ago

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You'll be okay (Cause you're never alone)

(A female Peter Parker and irondad vent fic delving heavily into mental health. If any of the tags are triggering to you, please don't read it. Stay safe, loves.)

Read on AO3

Peyton knew she was loved, she did, but it didn't matter to her brain what she knew. It didn't agree with her. It never did.

When her body felt tired and her arms craved to wrap around her loved ones, her brain would be there trying to convince Peyton that her wants were a burden.

When her eyes wanted nothing more than to cry waterfalls of tears and her body shook with the shivers her anxiety left behind, her mind berated her, told her she was overreacting.

And when Peyton's heart ached with the burden of the sadness her mind bestowed upon it, her mind was there with thoughts of doubt of the love she knew from her family, with fears and losses amplified until she was drowning in a never ending sea of emotion.

A deep ocean she never let out. All thanks to the words her mind spun around and around in her head, some with no foundation, and some that were all too true.

Peyton never was able to tell which ones hurt more. Those built from truth or those from doubts. It was something she didn't ever think she would know for sure.

What she did know, however, was that she couldn't escape from either kind.

Those borne from doubts could at least occasionally be rationalised far easier than those borne in truth.

But the ones that had a foundation of fact… they ached. They burned and twisted in a way that was different from the doubting ones.

They settled into her chest and tightened until she couldn't breathe.

They couldn't be softened the way that doubt born ones could, and as such, they haunted Peyton far worse than any other.

They followed in her every interaction, every move, every word she spoke. It was what had forced her to hide herself away and for the weight to all start building upon her back in the first place.

They stemmed from May and Peyton hated that her aunt, her mother in all but blood, was the start of her spiraling that she tried so hard to hide.

Peyton loved May with all of her heart and she knew that the woman loved her just as deeply. They were so close and such a part of each other… but that didn't take away from the way May's views, misunderstanding, and ignorance had affected Peyton.

It didn't change the years of being told everything would be fine and that she was smart, she couldn't possibly be struggling with anything.

"You just have to apply yourself more, Sweetheart."

It didn't change the countless bad days where all Peyton had wanted to do was curl up in her bed and not get up only for her aunt to say that she had no reason to be sad.

"I know things have been hard in the past, Pey, but we're fine now. There's no reason to be sad."

It didn't change the many times that May had dismissed her when Peyton had tried to bring up her thoughts on possibly being ADHD.

"You're not hyper, Peyton. You can't have ADHD."

And it didn't change the time when she finally said she battled with anxiety only for May to tell her, "Just don't be anxious then."

Moments like those were repeated over and over again for years until Peyton eventually gave up.

She started hiding her fear of school.

Her depression was covered by fake smiles and countless jokes in a bid to be okay.

Lack of concentration and daydreaming was disguised as thinking about homework or a new idea for her lab time with Mr. Stark.

Shaking hands and anxiety hives were brushed aside as needing something to eat and her shirts or hoodies making her itch.

Slowly but surely, Peyton became a master of excuses. Although many of them she probably only got away with due to her aunt's decidedly bad observation skills.

Maybe that was one of the reasons she was able to get away with the occasional nights of blood slowly dripping down from her thighs to swirl down the shower drain. It had become her release, her escape.

An injury from patrol or her own general clumsiness used as an excuse for the bandaids that became more and more likely to disappear from their shared bathroom cabinet.

Through it all, May was none the wiser to the war her niece was waging on and within herself.

Tony Stark, however, he was a different case. He noticed things that most took for granted. He used his cocky and flashy media persona to distract from his eyes soaking in every detail he could from any situation he found himself in.

He was the one person that Peyton's own masks and acts didn't fool. He didn't always easily accept the excuses for the stray cuts that would appear on her arms or the dark, puffy circles under her eyes.

Tony wasn't like May in that way.

And so it sadly came as no surprise when he noticed after one too many weeks of Peyton being entirely too reckless with her pocket knife, when the cuts on her thighs became deeper than they had before and her healing took longer to stop the bleeding.

The constant craving for the pain had snuck up on Peyton until the escape she found was one she could no longer escape from.

Peyton had foolishly hoped that she could get away with it for a while longer even though she knew she had to be stopped, no matter how much she didn't want to.

Her hopes were for nothing and it was all thanks to a single pair of grey sweatpants.

---

The second and fourth weekends of each month were reserved for Peyton and Tony to go upstate and spend the two day weekend (from the time Peyton left her last class on Friday to Monday morning when Tony would drop her off at Midtown) at the compound.

In the early days they had used to train in the larger, more well equipped gym as well as more complex suit enhancements.

Now, however, it was still used for those things at times but it had become far more of a mini getaway for the two of them. Occasionally they would be joined by Pepper or Rhodey but for the most part it was the two of them.

It was routine. Something familiar and comforting in the reliability of the twice a month escape.

As such, Peyton's self-harm habits had formed a routine around these weekends as well. It was one of the few times she restricted herself to not cutting at all apart from the friday morning before school.

Usually, those cuts would be scabbed over and partially healed by the time Tonh picked her up.

Today was not a usual day.

Thanks to the sudden cold brought by an early winter cold spell, a lot of Peyton's energy was spent by her metabolism trying to keep her body warm and stop her from going into hibernation.

Add that to the new depth and disregard of the far more frequently added cuts on her thighs and you get a healing factor that doesn't have the resources to work as it normally does.

Peyton hadn't thought of that when she had shakily re-opened the cuts in the hidden second floor bathroom after her last class. The only thing that had registered was the leftover surge of anxiety from Flash's recent bullying and the sudden single minded craving to split her skin open.

Realising the time when Tony sent her a message telling her that he was in the parking lot, Peyton folded up toilet paper and roughly bundled it between her thighs and pants to stop any of the blood from seeping through on her jeans.

She could deal with it later when she changed at the compound.

---

Unsurprisingly, she didn't deal with it, instead she flushed the wads of toilet paper down the toilet before changing into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie so she could be comfortable in the lab.

Her first mistake.

Her second mistake came from forgetting that the sluggishly bleeding cuts would eventually start to coagulate and scab. And that they did. Against her sweatpants.

Her last mistake?

Well, that was jumping up after sitting in the same position for two hours. Two hours that had her cuts start healing before they were re-opened thanks to her sudden movement.

Peyton couldn't stop the wince at the pain of the scabs peeling back as her pants shifted on her legs.

She was unaware that her mentor (read: unofficial father) had been glancing at her at times as he tried to piece together the puzzle of her increasingly strange behaviour that had formed over the last months.

As such, Peyton didn't see the way his face paled when he noticed the blood on her pants. Fear and sadness filling his heart as all the pieces were put together. It had all been right there in front of him, sign after sign, and he'd missed every one.

"Peyton." The man said, getting up from his workbench and moving towards her.

"Hmm?" Peyton hummed, ignoring the fabric tugging on her thighs as she turned to face him.

The look Tony fixed on her made Peyton pause, her eyes following his when they subconsciously flickered to the red stain on her pants. In seconds she felt the blood drain from her face and her fingers get the tell tale tingling of her anxiety flaring.

Before Tony could speak, she was rising with a well practiced excuse on her lips. "I'm so sorry. I have my period and… lemme just go change and clean up and I'll be back in a bit."

She made it to the elevator before a hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.

"Don't do this, Peyton."

"Do what?" Her feigned confusion was almost believable but Tony saw the way her hands quivered slightly at her side as she shrugged his hand off and stepped into the elevator.

Tony followed.

"Don't lie to me. Make excuses."

The doors closed and it was silent as they moved up to the living room.

After a few moments, Peyton shook her head. "I'm not–"

Tony guided her to face him. "Your period was two weeks ago, the last time we came up here. I know because you were annoyed at your nausea and cramps keeping you from trying out the new aerial bars in the gym."

The doors opened and Peyton walked out, moving towards her room and trying in vain to think of an excuse, a protest, anything to get herself out of the inevitable.

Before she could get out of the living room, Tony caught her sleeve, stopping her in place.

"You're not okay, I see that. If this is–" Tony cut himself off, drawing in a short breath. "You are hurting, Bambina, no matter the form. I want to help you but I need you to talk to me. Please."

It was almost as if the wind was taken out of Peyton's sails. Her head droped and she let out a tired breath.

"You're right," Peyton finally admitted, words spoken so softly that Tony had to strain to hear her.

The admission hurt Tony to hear. He'd known, but he had still wished in vain to be wrong.

"I– uh. It's not– I don't…" She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain or to say anything at all.

None of the words were the right ones for what she needed to say and to finally get out after so many years of keeping them locked away.

And then it all came rushing in. The realisation that someone knew. The terror of the reality of Tony, the man who was practically her father, finding out what she had done, what she did, to herself.

"Roo." A hand cupped Peyton's cheek grounding, her from the flood of emotion and thought. She looked up, blinking through the tears building in her eyes and met Tony's own teary ones.

She let out a whimper, "I'm not okay."

And she broke.

She sobbed, and she hiccuped, the force of her cries sending tremors through her body but Tony only cradled her in his arms. He held her together so she could let herself fall apart, and fall she did.

Through her tears she explained everything. All of her doubts, her fears, her anxieties, sadness, and the expectations she felt she could never live up to.

She told him about the nights cried herself to sleep and the nights where she was too numb and tired to rest. She told him of the words said to her that she couldn't help but take deeply and personally, no matter the true meaning behind them.

And she told him about the anxiety attacks, about the dissociation, and (most heavily) about the self harm. How it was sometimes the only escape she felt she had, even above her patrols or her missions as Spider-Woman.

Through it all, Tony listened. He didn't try to interrupt, he didn't tell her she was wrong or making anything up, he only listened.

For the first time, Peyton felt as if she was truly heard.

Her tears eventually stopped, only the occasional sniffle left behind. Her dad's arms never left their place wrapped around her. They only moved when Tony shuffled them across to the couch where Peyton immediately curled into his arms again.

"I'm sorry I'm so messed up. I know I'm not okay but I'm sorry that I just dumped it on you like tha–"

"Peyt, Bambina, it's okay. It's okay." Tony's eyes were earnest, nothing but love and truth in them as he looked down at her. "This is going to sound cheesy, I know, but it is okay not to be okay."

He sat up slightly, shifting until Peyton was facing him on the couch. "I'm not going to lie, this is going to be one hell of a time to get through and past, but we will get you help and I will be by your side to support you through all of it."

Peyton chewed on her lip, fingers subconsciously digging into the tops of her thighs before Tony curled her palms into his own.

"Talk to me, Pey, what's going on in your head?"

"I'm scared." Peyton hesitated before admitting it. She was silent again, almost warring with herself to get her next words out. "I dunno how to be different or who I am without the hurt or the hiding. And I don't know how to stop wanting to hurt myself or be clumsy so I get hurt on purpose. I know it's a bad and dangerous thing but I also don't want to stop. I don't know how to escape all of this."

She looked at her dad, scared that she would find disgust at what she had now said in words despite it already being discovered earlier with her stating it. "I'm scared that you'll hate me or be angry or disgusted that I'm like this."

At her words, Tony's eyes hardened, a fierceness in them that wasn't as strong moments ago.

"Peyton Parker, if there is one thing I Will never ever hate you, be disgusted, or angry, alright? Never. Not for one fuckibg second. Do you hear me?"

Peyton, do you hear me?" Tony repeated when she only nodded.

"Yes. I hear you."

Tony nodded. "Good because it's never changing. We're gonna get you the help you need, baby. I promise you."

Not knowing how to thank him, Peyton settled for hugging him again, smiling for the first time that evening when she felt a kiss against her hair.

"I love you, Dad." She said without thinking, freezing slightly when she felt Tony tense before he relaxed.

Tony murmured back to her, before she could apologise. "I love you too, Tesoro."

It was quiet, then. Heavy from all that had been said, but not uncomfortable or awkward.

Things weren't okay. But okay could wait, because in these seconds and moments, after all that had changed and happened that evening, there was peace.

---

Eventually Peyton would speak once more, her voice small and almost childlike in her need for guidance and assurance.

"We'll get through this?" She asked softly.

And Tony would answer, firm and sure.

"We will."

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