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megalony · 6 months ago

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You, Me and Them

This is a new Eddie Munson imagine from Stranger Things, thank you to anon for being my first Eddie request, I'm very excited to post this.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05

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Summary: When (Y/n) tells Eddie she's pregnant, she's surprised by his unbridled excitement. And the news leads to a few heart to hearts all round.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) hiked her bag higher up her shoulder and took a deep breath as she followed the trail she had committed to memory months ago. The trail that very few students at Hawkins High knew about.

Her other hand moved to press against her temple, as if she thought she could rub away the migraine that was starting to cloud over behind her eyes. This wasn't the kind of headache she was used to, it wasn't from rowdy classes and obnoxious students or from studying for too long without a break or a drink. It was a stress headache, brought on by every worry that was currently circulating through her mind.

Her fingers began to twitch and tremble against her forehead as she looked down at the path that was barely visible through all the weeds and roots and leaves scattered across the floor.

But (Y/n) had walked this path many times. She knew how to get from the school field to the small opening in the woods where she knew Eddie would be. It was where he could always be found if he wasn't in class or practising with the band in the music room.

(Y/n) made sure to be quiet, she tried not to step on too many twigs or make too much noise. She had no idea whether Eddie was out here on his own or if he was doing one of his 'meetings'.

She knew he used this spot to sell drugs. It was the safest place on school property where there was minimal risk of being caught by teachers or other students. Only a select few knew that Eddie hung out here to smoke and sell and those few always kept it a secret. After all, if they spoke out they would only get themselves into trouble and it would be hard to find someone else in Hawkins who would sell to them.

As the clearing drew closer, she lifted her head and peered around. Sure enough, there was Eddie, perched on the lopsided wooden bench that had seen better days and was one year away from becoming shrouded in weeds and moss.

Eddie was sat slightly hunched over the table with his head resting on the palm of his hand and a joint clasped between the fingers of his other hand. He looked other-worldly as he sat there. Dark tendrils of hair curling and crimping, forming curtains to shroud his face even though anyone would know it was him simply from his attire.

He had his signature Hellfire shirt on today with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the two tattoos he had on his right forearm. Three silver rings were nestled on the fingers of his right hand and four were on the other. (Y/n) often noticed how those rings made it hard for him to write, the rings were why his essays looked scribbled and hasty. Without them he would have rather neat- or at least eligible- writing.

One of his feet was tapping incessantly into the grass which had become flattened and crumpled beneath his thick leather boots. If Eddie switched to playing the drums (Y/n) knew he would pick it up easily, he had enough energy to be a good drummer.

Seeing as how no one else was around and Eddie looked far too relaxed to be waiting for anyone, (Y/n) stepped forward. She moved off the path and waltzed into the clearing with a smile already etched onto her features from seeing him.

The rustling of leaves and twigs beneath her feet instantly caught Eddie's attention and his head shot round until his eyes locked on her frame.

He flashed his pearly whites in a broad smile and as he straightened up and leaned back, he stubbed the end of the joint out on the table.

"Oh, hello." There was something boyish and playful about his voice which made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter and turn to jelly.

She watched as he swung one leg over the bench he was sat on so he was straddling the bench with one leg either side and he began to pat his hands down on his thighs as he watched her approach.

Eddie hadn't been expecting (Y/n) today, in all fairness he hadn't expected anyone to come down here today. No one had discreetly approached him to ask for a score. Eddie wasn't hungry today, he wasn't in the mood for sitting in the dining hall having strange conversations with the group. He would much rather enjoy the peace and quiet out here and have a smoke before he begrudgingly went back in for afternoon class.

A light sparkled within his eyes when he watched (Y/n) dump her bag down on the grass nearby before she headed towards the table. She swung her legs over and slumped down next to him with a sigh that made her shoulders slump as if all the weight had finally been lifted now that she had seen him.

(Y/n) let her arms fold over the table but when she cast her head to the left to look up at her boyfriend, that bright grin was still plastered on his face.

Something soft and warm dwelled within his eyes and before she knew it, she felt Eddie's hand cradling the side of her face. The cold metal rings he wore felt like ice cubes against her rather warm skin, the touch was soothing. But not as soothing as the feeling of Eddie's thumb swiping across her cheek like he was trying to give her a tender massage.

She could feel his fingers pressing into the back of her neck and his hand pressed into her cheek and jaw a little more firmly so he could angle her head up in his direction.

His eyes darted down to her lips and back up again before he surged forward and kissed her. It felt like days since he had last tasted her lips when really, he had seen her and devoured her lips two days ago when she had been by his place.

(Y/n) felt lightheaded to the point of passing out when she heard Eddie murmur "There's my girl." Against her lips.

She could taste the smoke and sickly substance he had been smoking moments ago and the usual dryness it caused on his lips when he smoked. It felt like he was trying to devour all the air from her lungs, especially when his tongue swiped across her lower lip and he leaned forward into her until (Y/n) had to clutch at his shoulders to make sure she didn't topple backwards.

Her fingers scrunched up in his shirt and she hummed against his lips, pulling back just enough to scrape in a quick gasp of air before Eddie's curved, smiling lips were devouring hers again.

She almost didn't notice Eddie's other hand moving down to clutch at her hip which he used to tug her closer until she was sat in between his thighs that squeezed into her frame. And his other hand remained cupping the side of her face, his thumb gliding across her cheek every few seconds in a rhythmic pattern.

When they finally pulled back, (Y/n) leaned forward and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. She peppered a few kisses across his throat, dangerously close to the weak spot where she knew it would make Eddie turn to putty in her hands. She could feel the shiver that coursed through Eddie's system while he moved a shaky hand round to cup the back of her neck, letting her lean into his chest a little more.

His fingers tapped and twitched against the back of her neck while his other hand squeezed her hip and he tilted his head down to attach his lips to the top of her head. Breathing in the familiar scent of her raspberry shampoo that drove him wild for some reason.

It almost felt strange to be kissing (Y/n) and being so close to her right now when they were technically at school. But being out here in the secluded woods was different than being in the halls or in classes- only two of which they shared together.

To the naked eye, (Y/n) and Eddie were nothing more than acquaintances. People who passed in the corridor and spoke on occasion in class. No one knew what happened outside of class.

No one knew that the girl with the straight As who tutored anyone who needed help was secretly dating the so named 'freak' who was on his third attempt of senior year. They ran in different circles, Eddie moved with the strange kids, the ones who were into DnD who otherwise felt like social outcasts at school. He hung out near the music room and played rock and metal music with his band. He wasn't afraid to act or speak out and make a fool of himself and be who he was around anyone.

(Y/n) was different. She kept to herself, a silent soul who tried not to get into any trouble whatsoever. The girl who focused on getting through her classes and figuring things out on her own. She didn't blend with the popular crowd, but she didn't fall into the outcast category either. She was somewhere in the middle with the shy kids.

She was someone who kids went to when they were struggling with lessons, when they thought they were going to fail and needed tutoring lessons.

That was how they met. This was Eddie's third attempt at senior year and last year, when he knew he was undoubtedly going to fail, he talked to (Y/n). He asked for tutoring, for help in any way she could so he didn't have to do this a fourth time.

A relationship sprung up from there and it had just seemed easier for them both to keep this to themselves. They weren't frightened or ashamed, but this was their last year and they didn't need anyone teasing or making fun and snide jokes in the corridor. And (Y/n) didn't want her cousin- who was in the popular crowd- to start any spiteful rumours that led back to her parents.

Eddie smoked and sold drugs, nothing too heavy or substancial, but (Y/n) had a hard enough time getting along with her parents. If they knew who she was dating and what Eddie did, they would try and put a stop to it. They would stop her from going out under the guise of 'tutoring lessons' when half the time she was going to meet Eddie.

"You good, shouldn't you be at lunch?" His words were hummed against the top of her head and he tried to look down at her, but with how (Y/n) was tucked into his chest, it was near on impossible to get a proper look at her.

It wasn't usual for Eddie to spend his whole lunch break out here, but he was tired and in no mood for the antics of the dining hall. He liked the peace and quiet out here, and it would prompt him to stay at school and go to his next class rather than bunk off and go home or for a drive.

But (Y/n) wasn't one for wandering the school at lunchtime. She sat at the table next to Eddie's with two close friends and ate her lunch while reading a book.

Finding (Y/n) out here when she hadn't told him she wanted to meet and they hadn't arranged anything was surprising, but it was also enlightening and extremely pleasant for Eddie.

"Not hungry." The words were muffled against Eddie's throat and it sent vibrations running through his skin and had his shoulders shivering and coiling inwards.

He let go of her hip so he could begin gliding his fingertips up and down her back while he tilted his chest back just a little so he could finally look down at her. There was something behind her words that made Eddie uncertain. It made him wonder whether she was okay or if something was bothering her and if that was the cast then he wanted to know about it.

"Oh yeah, well we could always bail on afternoon classes."

His fingers continued to trace up and down her back, but his eyes narrowed when he didn't receive a response straight away. He was waiting for the automatic laugh, the melodic response that told him that (Y/n) had a reputation, she felt that internal obligation to attend class even though she was smart enough to miss a few.

Instead, Eddie felt (Y/n) burrowing down into him like she was a bunny trying to seek protection. Her face smothered down near his collar bone rather than his throat and her arms slid down until she could bind both arms around his chest. The desperate way she clung to him made Eddie's lips morph down in confusion while his thumb stroked the back of her neck and his hand continued administrations up and down the length of her spine.

"Might be a good idea." (Y/n) didn't mean to say the words outloud, it was just her inner monologue reeling off. But she felt the way Eddie stiffened in confusion.

Almost immediately, his hand left the back of her neck and he wedged his hand between his chest and her temple. Feeling her temple with the back of his hand to check whether she was suddenly running a fever.

"Who are you and what have you done with my straight-A girl?"

Eddie would never try and corrupt his beautiful, smart, straight-A girlfriend. He loved how smart (Y/n) was, he found her clean and good mannered reputation favourable and sweet. Eddie loved everything about her from her looks to her personality and attitude to her eagerness to please and help others. He would never try and push her into skipping class and smoking with him and forgetting her responsibilities.

But the fact that (Y/n) was contemplating skipping class told Eddie that something wasn't right here.

"What's wrong?" He moved his hands to cup (Y/n)'s face and he carefully reeled her up from his chest so she was sitting up straight in front of him rather than leaning against him.

His forehead tilted down until their temples were pressed together and the tip of his nose was brushing against hers. Their lips were so close they were almost kissing and Eddie could feel each shallow breath (Y/n) took. It made him want to move the distance and kiss her, to wash every worry away and devour her until she went lightheaded with bliss. But he had to find out what was wrong first.

His eyes narrowed and scrutinised the panic he could see building up in those beautiful eyes. It made his lips form into a pout and worry lines creased his temple as he wondered what had happened for her to become so anxious about something in the two days since he had seen her.

The feeling of Eddie's thumbs gliding along her cheeks like he was trying to stimulate a response was almost lulling (Y/n) into a trance. She found the will to reach her hand up and cup his wrist as she leaned into his touch. But when their eyes finally locked, she took a deep breath.

"Promise you won't freak out?"

"Okay." Eddie couldn't help the small chuckle he let out because she had never said that to him before. And part of him couldn't help but think that she was going to do some sort of prank on him or tell him a weird joke.

What could she possibly tell him that would freak him out? When had (Y/n) ever known Eddie to freak out on her?

Sure, she had seen him panic over certain things, she had seen him back away from bad situations and seen him through the frightening things. But nothing (Y/n) had ever said or done specifically had caused Eddie to freak out on her. He wasn't sure what she could tell him that would cause such a reaction.

"I went to the doctor yesterday… I'm pregnant."

It was hard to resist the urge to bow her head so she didn't have to witness Eddie's reaction.

(Y/n) had no idea how he would react to something like this. She didn't know what kind of mood or response this news would ellicit. Eddie wasn't like most guys, he wouldn't suddenly blame (Y/n) or say that she had ruined everything or that she couldn't expect him to do anything about it or rely on him. (Y/n) knew he wouldn't be like that.

But Eddie could panic, he could freak out, say he wasn't ready, say they couldn't do this, it was a mistake, they would have to get rid of it. Eddie could say any number of those things and (Y/n) didn't want to hear any of them.

She had been agonising over how he would respond because this wasn't the kind of news Eddie would ever expect. Contray to what people said and thought about him, Eddie didn't go sleeping around with girls. He'd only been with one other girl before (Y/n) so this wasn't likely to be a situation Eddie had ever been in or imagined himself being in.

(Y/n) wasn't expecting him to smile.

She wasn't expecting to see a flash of those pearly whites as his cheeks rose and his pointed upper lip curled even higher towards his nose. His head angled to one side and his eyes creased just a little as he waited for her to tell him she was joking. That she was simply trying to gauge a reaction out of him and see what he would do or say.

Eddie waited for the punchline. He waited for (Y/n) to say something else, to tell him why this should be funny and how she was only joking. But when he received no such response, his smile stayed plastered on his face that felt frozen and he found that he couldn't release the breath held tight within his lungs.

Pregnant.

They were going to be parents. (Y/n) was going to have a baby.

Oh God, Eddie hadn't thought about this happening so soon. Eddie always thought about it, he knew someday he would want to be a dad, to have a kid and a proper family of his own. He could just imagine dressing his kid up in his style, letting them try on his rings and pull his hair and see a little version of himself running around.

And as much as Eddie saw himself one day becoming a rockstar, a lead guitarist in a band that was known worldwide, that could still happen even if he had a family relying on him. It would just make the journey more interesting.

And he wasn't exactly too young for this, he'd known other people have kids while they were still in school. There was a couple three years back who had a baby while they still had two more years of school to go. Eddie shouldn't even be here, he was aged out of school by now and was simply here on a technicality. And (Y/n) was finishing this year anyway.

"Wait, really?" He finally managed to release the breath that had been caught in his lungs and it made stars dance in front of his eyes when he finally took in another breath.

The moment (Y/n) nodded, she waited for him to do something. To cry or scream or push her away. For him to knot his hands into his long hair and pull until half the strands came loose between his fingers. She waited for him to panic.

Instead, (Y/n) gasped when Eddie launched himself at her so fast that she had to brace her hand on the table to stop from falling off the bench. Her right hand gripped the old rotten wood of the tabletop and her left arm deadlocked around the back of Eddie's neck to bind herself to him so they didn't fall or topple over.

She could barely breathe, barely function at all as she felt Eddie tuck his face into the crook of her neck while he meshed his chest down into hers. It ended up with (Y/n) practically lying down on the bench with Eddie nestled slightly uncomfortably between her thighs with his chest and abdomen merging against hers like they had become glued together. Bound together, for life.

She could feel his hair fanning across her neck and chest and it tickled along with the feeling of Eddie's lips peppering hundreds of wet kisses up and down her neck and throat. But it was the feeling of him quietly chuckling into her skin that made her want to melt into a puddle and confused her at the same time.

"We're gonna have a baby- Christ, I'm gonna be a dad."

When she was sure neither of them were about to topple off the bench, (Y/n) moved her hand to cradle the side of Eddie's face. She gently tilted his head back from her neck until his chin was pressing down into her chest and those rounded chocolate eyes were staring up at her while his lips were parted in a perfect O shape.

A delicate smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to find her words, but this felt like a dream that was so fragile it was about to shatter. One of those surreal dreams that faded into a black abyss the moment (Y/n) woke up, never to be remembered again.

"You're- you're not upset?" She couldn't help how fragile her voice came out, but every fear she had felt over the last two days was rising to the surface and clouding everything else.

"Upset?" A frown of confusion plastered across Eddie's face as he shook his head. "Baby we graduate in three months. Then it's fuck this place, it'll be just you, me and them. No school, no reputations or classes or bad grades. Just us."

How could he be upset?

He was going to be a dad. He would finally graduate school this year, thanks to his amazing girlfriend who had tutored him until his grades finally scratched the surface and impressed every one of his teachers. He would be leaving this God forsaken place and it would be onto new and better things.

They would have a baby together, Eddie could find a job and split his time between his family, work and the band- something he couldn't give up but would happily put on the back burner for now.

Things were finally looking up and he was never going to be unhappy about news like this.

When he dove down and attached his lips to hers with a sense of hunger that (Y/n) hadn't felt before, she moved so both arms were tightly bound around his waist and she glued her chest up against his, pushing into him.

She had a funny feeling that they weren't going to make either of their afternoon classes today.

***

"Will you try and eat something now, please?" Eddie's lips formed into a pout as he stared down at his girlfriend, quietly adding "For me?" after a second thought.

His head angled to one side and he carefully leaned over until he was almost lying down on the sofa rather than sitting up. He leant his arm on (Y/n)'s hip and perched his chin on her shoulder, raising a brow as he tried to silently goad her into agreeing with him.

(Y/n) was currently curled up on the large rectangle sofa in the trailer, her knees brought up near her stomach and one arm resting comfortably behind her head. She looked like she was halfway to sleep when it was barely mid afternoon.

Eddie murmured another round of 'please' while he tilted his chin down so he could kiss her exposed shoulder and his hand trailed over her hip to squeeze her thigh. She had stayed the night at the trailer while Eddie's uncle worked the night shift and since she had been here, Eddie had barely seen her eat anything. She had half her tea last night, barely two bites of toast this morning and then nothing else. He wasn't even sure she was drinking properly either.

If (Y/n) didn't manage to eat something soon Eddie was going to start worrying and that wouldn't be a good thing or a pretty sight and they both knew it.

(Y/n) let her teeth sink down into her lower lip as she looked between Eddie and the coffee table where he had set a plate of sandwiches down. When she sighed and nodded, she watched a tender smile light up Eddie's face.

He pushed himself up so he was sitting up again and carefully reached his hands out for (Y/n), helping her sit up with him.

The tv was playing some random tv show in the background that neither of them had really been paying much attention to. They had spent the morning trying to work through some of the new songs Eddie was trying to come up with, whilst of course trying to remain quiet so they didn't wake Wayne who had gone to bed as soon as he came home from his night shift.

When she sat up, (Y/n) flopped her head onto Eddie's shoulder and curled her legs beneath her. She twisted so she was facing Eddie, slumping into him while he slouched down, thighs spread apart and the plate of sandwiches now settled on his thigh.

He had made her favourites. Eddie had to do something to try and entice (Y/n) to eat, even if it was just half a sandwich for now. He didn't want her making herself sick by not eating. He had been stupid enough to think morning sickness was as the title implied, only in the morning. He didn't think it would mean random hits throughout the day where (Y/n) was either sick or too queasy to stomach anything.

"Thank you," She murmured softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek before she took one of the sandwiches.

It smelled good. Smells didn't really affect (Y/n), at least not at the moment. She was only four months along and thankfully she hadn't started to show yet which meant she and Eddie could carry on at school as if nothing was amiss. Although (Y/n) knew Eddie was finding it hard not to reach out for her in the halls or sit with her at lunch. He wanted to be attached to her hip every moment of the day now.

A comfortable silence enveloped them as they started to eat and tried to focus on whatever show was playing on the tv.

After half a sandwich, (Y/n) brought her knees up higher and curled herself into a ball until she was tucked properly against Eddie's side. Her knees nudged against his thigh and her face burrowed down on his shoulder as her chest merged up against his arm.

She didn't have to look to know that he was smiling around the sandwich he was munching away on.

"You gonna have another?" Eddie nudged the plate in (Y/n)'s direction to urge her to take the other half of the sandwich left on the plate but even if she didn't, at least she had eaten something.

When she shook her head, Eddie put the plate down next to him, she might change her mind in a while. He would rummage around in the cupboards to see what else they had that (Y/n) might like. He probably had some chocolate somewhere, that might appeal to her sensitive stomach.

Before Eddie even had the chance to move his arm to try and loop it around (Y/n)'s shoulders, he froze when she groaned into his shoulder.

His head snapped down to the right as his eyes creased into a frown but he shuddered when (Y/n) dropped her feet from the sofa down to the floor with a bang that jolted Eddie's system. His shoulders dropped and he sighed through gritted teeth when (Y/n) clamped one hand down over her mouth and the other around her waist before she bolted from the sofa.

"Oh shit." Eddie slammed his hands into the sofa to propel himself up to his feet and he tried to catch up with her.

He was rather surprised at how fast (Y/n) moved. One minute she was sat beside him and the next, she was across the trailer within the blink of an eye. Eddie watched her skid to the left and fling herself around the doorframe to get into the bathroom as her feet skidded against the cheap laminate floor.

Both Eddie's hands clamped down on the doorframe and his eyes blew wide when he leaned into the bathroom.

(Y/n) was on her knees, throwing up into the toilet.

It had been too good to be true to believe that she could stomach any dinner today. Clearly the baby wasn't agreeing.

"Okay babe, okay." Eddie's tone softened like melted butter as he tried to cram into the small bathroom with her.

It was a tight squeeze. Considering the trailer wasn't exactly the smallest in the park, the bathroom was tiny. The toilet was in line with the door, the sink was squashed up next to the toilet beneath the window and then in the left corner was the shower. There was barely any space to turn around, let alone cram two people in here, but Eddie made it work.

He crouched down behind (Y/n), parting his knees so his thighs were curled around her hips so she slotted perfectly between his legs. He moulded his chest down over her back and gathered up her hair in his right hand, holding it behind her head so she have to try and push it over her shoulder. His other hand began softly gliding up and down her arm and shoulder.

He could feel how (Y/n) was beginning to shake and he was sure a sheen of sweat was now glistening on her skin.

It seemed to take hours for (Y/n) to finally stop throwing up and heaving. every drink she had had today was now in the toilet. Her throat felt like it had been grated to shreds, her lips were tingling and she was shaking like she had been electrocuted.

"Breathe baby; you're alright." Eddie hovered his lips over (Y/n)'s ear and pressed a gentle kiss to her neck when she seemed to have finished coughing and spluttering.

Instead of rubbing his hand over her arm, he moved to rub circles all around her back when she seemed to be gasping for air. She barely had chance to breathe with how badly she had just thrown up. His lips attached to her shoulder and he tried to slow down his own breathing to coax (Y/n) to copy him.

(Y/n) shakily let go of the rim of the toilet in favour of grabbing some toilet roll to clean her mouth. She swiped her hand against her forehead that felt like it was on fire but when a sudden trembling rattled through her, she whimpered and flopped back into Eddie.

"I gotcha." He let go of her hair in favour of looping his right arm around her waist, letting her slouch back into his chest with her head on his shoulder.

The perks of the bathroom being so compact was that all Eddie had to do was lean back on his heels and stretch his arm behind him towards the small shelves beside the doorway. He grabbed the mouthwash and held it out to (Y/n) with a lopsided smile.

He'd had his fair share of hangovers so Eddie kind of knew how she felt and he could see that she felt somewhat better or in the very least, relieved now she had been sick. He would see if they had any bread so she could have some toast tonight to settle her stomach. He couldn't have her going all day with nothing.

"Better?" He murmured softly into her hair once she'd swirled her mouth out and subsequently leant back into his chest once again.

(Y/n) hummed, running her tongue along her teeth that felt strange now the peppermint taste was burning her cheeks. Oddly, she did feel better now that everything was officially out of her system and she was empty.

She let herself lean just a little bit further into Eddie who didn't seem to notice or care because he continued to hold her weight up for her. The feeling of his lips against her temple was soothing and heavenly. But it was the feeling of his hand softly pressing down on her stomach that made (Y/n)'s system fly high on adrenaline.

On the one hand they were both relieved she wasn't showing yet, it meant they could get through these last two months of school without any taunting or stress. All they had to do was get through graduation and then school wouldn't matter anymore. But on the other hand, (Y/n) knew Eddie was just dying for her body to change shape. He wanted to see her bump, he wanted to see their baby to feel like this was truly real.

"Do you wanna go lie down for a bit?"

(Y/n) didn't want to, it was the afternoon and it was the weekend. She wanted to sit with Eddie and watch boring tv or listen to him play his music. But she wasn't sure she had the energy or the attention span for either of those things.

She found herself nodding in agreement and before she could really fathom what was happening, Eddie's arms were bound around her middle and he carefully lifted her up to her feet.

It felt like she was drunk, her head couldn't find the right sense of balance and her legs were shaking, but she managed to walk forwards. With the help of Eddie whose chest was merged into her back like they were now one being, one person. His lips attached to the back of her head and his hair began to tickle her shoulders as he steered her towards his room at the end of the trailer.

(Y/n) was glad to curl up in the middle of Eddie's bed once they got in the room. She loved how his scent was everywhere and all she had to do was smother her nose into the pillow and it felt like Eddie was surrounding her, enveloping her, hugging her from all sides and angles.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a pout when Eddie didn't automatically climb into bed with her. "Aren't you gonna lay with me?"

Her words made Eddie shiver and he could of fainted there and then when he crouched beside the bed and folded his arms on the mattress only to have (Y/n)'s hand reach out to cup the side of his face. He leaned into her touch and peppered a few kisses against the inside of her wrist.

"Soon, but I'm gonna get you a drink first, and I think Wayne's getting up so I'll just tell him you're here."

Eddie reached out and brushed his finger along (Y/n)'s cheek before he leant over the bed and kissed her temple. He wouldn't leave her for long, but he wanted to see if she could keep even a little bit of water down. And he had heard his uncle mulling about in his room, he knew Wayne got up around this time, he didn't sleep for long during the day even when he was on night shifts.

When he was sure (Y/n) was alright, Eddie walked out the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

He began to spin one of the silver skull rings around his finger as he walked down the hall and took a look around for his uncle. He had been meaning to have this conversation for the last month, but he kept putting it off. He didn't know how to approach this or what his uncle was going to say.

Once or twice, Wayne had joked about it, about Eddie sleeping around and told him to be careful. But this wasn't something Eddie thought he would have to talk about, not yet. He didn't know how Wayne would be. God he prayed he wouldn't be disappointed or frustrated.

He found his uncle passing the tiny kitchen and moving towards the trailer door. Wayne seemed to sense his presence because he looked over his shoulder and spotted Eddie lurking beside the sink. A smile crossed his face and instead of walking outside to smoke like he normally did, Wayne simply opened the door and stood near the threshold so the smoke would drift outside.

"Is (Y/n) here?" Wayne lit the cigarette clasped between his teeth and leaned back against the wall, that calming smile still ever present on his face.

"Yeah, um, can we talk?" Eddie stopped spinning the ring around his finger and instead tried to tuck his hands into his pockets as he moved closer to his uncle. He found it amusing how often Wayne used to tell him to stand away when he was smoking, but when he found out Eddie had been smoking since he was fifteen, that rule went out the window.

He never told Eddie off for smoking or for the kind of things he decided to smoke. They were on the understanding that Eddie had been old enough to decide and if he wanted to then he was allowed. Wayne was accepting like that.

"That sounds serious." Wayne remained near the door but the little nod of his head told Eddie to continue, to start whatever conversation was playing on his mind right now.

How did he start this? What was he supposed to say? Did he come out with it upfront or did he sort of lead up to the subject and then blurt it out? He wished someone would tell him what to do, but he didn't want to leave this down to (Y/n). She was going to have a hard enough time talking to her own parents, Eddie wouldn't let her stress about talking to Wayne, this was his stressful conversation to have.

"What is it, Eddie? I know for a fact you can't flunk this year too, she's been tutoring you for long enough."

Instead of coming across as rude or annoyed, Wayne's words were the exact opposite, full of comfort and reassurance.

He knew that (Y/n) had been tutoring Eddie for all his classes and he knew she was a good influence on him. If Eddie flunked this year then Wayne would die of shock because he had seen a large improvement in his nephew. Eddie wasn't struggling or throwing his term papers across the room. He wasn't stuffing homework in the bin or getting stressed with lessons he didn't understand.

Eddie actually did his work and (Y/n) wasn't even tutoring him anymore because she had caught him up to speed a few months ago. He would ace all his lessons, he might not get As or Bs, but he would get good enough grades to pass and graduate this year. Graduate with his girl.

So Wayne knew that wasn't the problem and he knew for the past two years, Eddie hadn't cared when he flunked. He was annoyed to do another year of school, sure, but it didn't frighten him or make him have nervous conversations with his uncle like this.

"No, no it's- it's nothing like that. I'm graduating this year, finally. But, could… could (Y/n) stay here with us, for a while?" Out of habit, Eddie looked over his shoulder and pointed towards his room before he looked back at his uncle as if to show him where (Y/n) was right now.

Eddie knew the moment (Y/n) told her parents about the pregnancy, they would complicate things. They were the kind of people who would disapprove of Eddie on his looks alone, let alone when they found out he'd failed school twice already, he was in a rock band and he smoked and sold drugs.

They wouldn't let Eddie anywhere near (Y/n) and if she stayed home with them they wouldn't let her out the house. Eddie was having paranoid thoughts that they would somehow try and get (Y/n) to give up the baby or get rid of it.

But if she stayed here with Eddie, where she was safe and well, things would be better. They could be together, they could stay together and try and do this properly.

"Is she in trouble?"

Wayne liked (Y/n). She was one of the only friends that Eddie had ever brought home and Wayne took to her instantly. She was kind and caring and she clearly loved Eddie, that was enough for Wayne. But if she was in trouble he had to know so he could help.

Eddie sighed and began to scratch the back of his neck while his other hand gripped the counter and his hip cocked out to the side.

He nodded, unable to look up at his uncle as he finally took a deep breath and braved the news. "She's pregnant."

He resisted the urge to say 'I got her pregnant' because something about that made it seem like they weren't already in a loving relationship. It sounded wrong, like one of the guys on the basketball team who fucked around with any girl they could and then got one into trouble.

It wasn't like that with (Y/n) and Eddie. He wasn't that kind of person and he was happy she was pregnant. He wanted this baby, but he couldn't deny how the prospect frightened him.

"Congratulations." That one word had Eddie frowning and snapping his head up to look at his uncle in confusion. Wayne didn't look put out or angry, he looked enlightened. "Eddie, she's good for you, she's a bright girl and you won't exactly be having this kid in school, will you. She can stay until we can find you both a place of your own."

It wasn't as if they were still going to be in school, juggling classes and homework and exams along with a newborn baby. And Eddie was old enough to have a family of his own, he should have been out of school and into work two years ago so this was just life catching up with him and giving him a shove in the right direction.

If this is what they wanted then Wayne wasn't going to argue, if they were happy about this then so was he. And he would do whatever he could to help them. Since he took Eddie on, he had become more of a son than a nephew to him.

"Really?"

"We'll start looking, find you somewhere, we can get some stuff ready and put aside in the meantime. We might need to find you a job though-"

"I already have a job lined up… the uh, the bar where the band plays. It's a start."

Eddie couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips even as he felt himself becoming lightheaded at the mere thought of what this meant.

He had talked to the owner of the bar where the Corroded Coffin played. He had landed himself a job cleaning tables and manning the bar if they were short staffed. Eddie didn't care what he did, he would clean the toilets if he had to. He just needed a job for now, something to get him started before he eventually found his feet and found a better, more stable job for when they had the baby.

This job would work around school and when he graduated he would be fine to work all the hours they had available.

He needed to get started so, like Wayne said, they could get things put aside now for the baby. Chances were he and (Y/n) would end up still being here at the trailer when the baby was born, Eddie doubted they could find a place of their own before then and it would be too stressful.

The thought of everything they would need, actually moving out and having a place of their own and converting from the routine and stability of school to the instability of being in the real world with a job was frightening. Eddie wanted this more than anything, he was just afraid of messing it up along the way.

"Sounds to me like you've already got some of this figured out. So, what are we hoping for, boy or girl?"

Wayne tossed the cigarette bud onto the grass before he shut the door and turned to face his nephew. They could talk through all the main worries and points later, right now they could just smile and talk about the basics, the easy stuff. Keep this moment light and happy because they didn't have to stress yet.

A grin formed on his face as he watched his nephew turn a dark shade of red. He watched Eddie lean back to look into the hallway, making sure his bedroom door was properly closed and that (Y/n) was out of earshot before he spoke. Eddie would hate to say this and have (Y/n) scold him and tell him he shouldn't care what gender the baby was.

"A boy." His voice was so quiet Eddie barely heard himself, but he didn't dare speak any louder.

Wayne heard, though. He rolled his eyes with that cheesy smile and muttered an 'of course' under his breath. Of course Eddie would want a little mini-me running around the trailer. A new and improved version of himself to brand into his style and his taste of music and grow and nurture.

Although Eddie could see himself with a little girl on his hip, a little princess to spoil. He had another five months to think about it before the verdict came and he found out if he had a son or a daughter and he wouldn't care in the end, as long as they and (Y/n) were okay.

"I can do this, right?" His eyes looked up to Wayne for reassurance as he shook his hands out at his sides to rid himself of the nervous energy flowing through him. Something Eddie often did before the band had any gigs or small performances.

He wasn't expecting Wayne to wrap him up in a hug. They didn't hug often, not since Eddie was about thirteen. Hugs were reserved for bad news or troubled moments of uncertainty or when Eddie was particularly frightened about something.

But it was oddly comforting to have his uncle wrapped around him and Eddie found himself deadlocking his arm around Wayne's neck and middle, clinging to him like this is what he'd needed all along.

"You can do this, kid. It'll be the making of you."

#imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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todorokies · 1 year ago

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cherry blossoms, tarot cards & chamomile - suguru geto

contents: sfw, fluff, meet-cute at book store, fem!reader, strangers to potential lovers, mentions of curses & whatnot, tarot cards reading,, 1.5k words.

a/n: this one goes out to the hopeless romantics who wanna fall in love in a bookstore aka me (we hear & see you)

spring has sprung as one would say. the pale snow that covered the ground has melted away, which in turn allows the freshly cut grass to flourish.

cherry blossoms had recently littered the streets alongside the sidewalks, with each petal engaging in a unique twirl that fluttered like a dragonfly before angelically collapsing on the concrete.

with spring came along new missions suguru would have to endure either by himself or with his trusted friend —and nuisance— satoru. as curse energy that once accumulated during the toughest season gets released during the warmer seasons.

today was different however, the pair had been sent into town to retrieve a relic from the past of jujutsu history; a two thousand year old book that slipped out of the archives and has been rumoured to be contained in a bookstore hidden in the nooks of jimbocho.

“the warm breeze outside might fix the low oxygen levels in your heads.” yaga sarcastically reasons when satoru made his complaints about the origins of the mission known.

the raven haired sorcerer reprimanded his tone but expressed his concerns in a more diligent manner. anyone with half a brain would know it would take many decades to successfully pawn through each and every bookshop in the jimbocho district for a specific book, that neither of them even have the slightest clue as of what it looks like.

nonetheless, they were shooed off campus with a pat on the back and a simple: “you’ll know it when you see it—or rather feel it.”

suguru now navigated through the busy streets alone, —his white haired companion taking off a few hours ago on his own journey— with both hands in his pockets taking in the simplicities of life that surrounded him while keeping his eyes sharp for any unusual curse energy.

each corner he’d turn the storefronts would be filled with colourful book spines neatly lined adjacent to one another. the harsh sound of crimped sandpaper occasionally made its presence known when a costomer would flip through the pages.

a bitter earthly aroma tangoed with the wind. one would simply scrunch their nose up and turn the other way but for suguru, the olden smell of books filled him with comfort.

elderly couples hand in hand, a few children accompanied by their parents, and the complementary store cats that would linger in the isles or be found curled up on a random stack of books.

after roaming about and checking a few stores for their recent inventory stock, suguru oddly felt inclined towards a particular store that was larger than the others.

he enters, a ring of a bell from above signals his arrival. immediately, the smell of different assortments of tea wafts in and lingers in his nose.

a café combined with a bookstore…that’s definitely convenient. he eyes the ‘ring for assistance’ bell that rest apon the main counter, he lightly scoffs before ringing it.

“how many times do i have to tell your ass, no, you can’t conduct a séance he—” you round the tight, abelit, breathable corner to face the person it seems you weren’t expecting. you slightly jump back in a frightened manner then regain your composure, or more so, your customer service demeanour.

“my apologies! business is slow today and i thought a rather persistent costomer had came back. do you need help with a book or would you like to order something?” you enunciate your words with care, trying to not let any vocal cracks slip as you fiddle with your colourful apron which is a rather stark contrast from your all black work uniform.

suguru would pride himself as goal oriented man. the kind demands of asking to take a look at your recent stocks to see if the cursed book has fallen onto your shelves nearly wavers past his lips but the faint smell of his favourite tea clouds his better judgement.

“yes, i’d take chamomile tea with honey please.”

“coming right up!” you popped the ‘p’, scurrying off into the back to prepare his choice of beverage. alone with his thoughts again, suguru observed his surroundings with more caution.

the store has a whimsical charm to it. different array of ambiance lighting scattered throughout the establishment, vintage burgundy rugs made an appearance here and there, a few wooden chairs cushioned by velvet and a long couch that looks as if it has been passed down through many generations.

a sturdy coffee table in the middle and of course, the probably hundreds of thousands books neatly tucked in the shelves.

he wonders if you run this big place by yourself, must be a hassle if you do. he also wonders why a séance was mentioned by you in an irritated tone. maybe it could connect to his current mission? he plans on subtly bringing the topic up.

“one chamomile with honey!” you cheerfully announce handing over his mug. you don’t miss the way your heart skips a few beats when your fingers accidentally brush against his.

suguru nods his head to express his thanks. while digging for his wallet he brings up what’s been on his mind, “what was that séance you were talking about before?” he lightheartedly inquires.

you cautiously look over your shoulders and nibble on your bottom lip, as if you were scared someone might hear, “nothing too serious i suppose. these past few days business has plummeted cause there’s been talk about how this place is haunted.”

a small beat passes.

“which it isn’t by the way! just some silly stuff kids say when they wanna get under uncle daichi’s skin,” you grimace.

you then go on a bit of a tangent about how the alleged “hauntings” started a few weeks ago, just about the same time you gotten a new inventory restock. books would fly off shelves, unnerving whispers can be heard, lights would flicker and the atmosphere would turn unsettling.

suguru is unfazed yet intrigued by this, he calmly listens as his sharp eyes never leaves your face. he notices how animated your expressions are when retelling the events; you talk heartily with your hands as well as your voice that creates a certain bass to match your feelings.

he hums as he takes a slip from his mug, “can you show me the known hotspot for these hauntings?” you nod eagerly and swiftly move from your spot at the front desk to the back of the store.

yaga wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be able to feel the cursed book, as the cursed energy in the air multiples a tenfold when they step into the secluded part of the store the lighting couldn’t reach. he wonders how a cursed object this powerful was able to conceal itself from being spotted for so long.

suguru plucks the hefty grimoire off the shelf, small dust particles flying in its wake, “i’d like to purchase this one.” you look at him as if he grew an extra pair of eyes, but quickly shrug off any confusion and lead him back to the front of the store to cash him out.

as you progress his payment you feel conflicted about letting this particular stranger go so soon. holding him up for a few minutes couldn’t hurt, right?

“uhh.. wait, with each purchase a tarot card reading is offered free of charge. would you like to know what the future potentially has in store for you?”

suguru presses his lips in a thin line and sighs. he doesn’t have time for this and doesn’t believe in cards beholding a hidden future, however he is a sorcerer and just bought a book that would be a danger to society if not soon contained. raining on other peoples parade simply isn’t his forte.

he softly smiles with his eyes turning into crescent moons, “hit me.”

you try to conceal your excitement as you bring out a deck bound together by a rubber band. you start shuffling until four different cards slip out of the deck.

death, judegment, eight of cups, and the lovers.

“intresting…don’t be too alarmed by the death card, it could indicate the decay of a friendship that doesn’t hinder towards your beliefs or an troublesome habit finally coming to an end.”

you continue, “judement and eight of cups go hand in hand as your new calls for action may put certain things into perspective for you, as this chosen path may lead to dissatisfaction.”

“and finally, the lovers card is the nice light at the end of the tunnel. someone you can confine in and pour your heart out to; tarot cards can be interpreted in millions of ways so, take what i say with a grain of salt.” you smile as you put the cards away to bid the stranger farewell.

suguru stares astonished absorbing this information, you’re good. he’ll give you that. “well..thanks for the reading and the tea, have a great day.”

and just like that, he turns his back to leave until he stops just in front of the door. “oh, and i can assure you the ‘hauntings’ should come to an end now.” he smirks and waves you goodbye.

you smile until he fully leaves which is when the realization hits that you didn’t even get the chance to get his name, you frown and groan into your palms.

maybe he’ll swing by again…hopefully.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

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polycraftory · 10 months ago

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Here is our complete guide to curling a heat safe wig!

We specifically figured out this method worked best when styling this wig for my level 3 Imogen Temult cosplay. She's from campaign 3 of Critical Role. There are many other methods to curl wigs, but this is the one that got the best hold and our desired look on this particular wig! Of course, then I decided to cosplay Imogen at level 13 first and her hair is totally different so this wig is going in storage but at least we got to make a useful tutorial first.

We already have a video version of this tutorial up on our Tiktok and Youtube that we will move over to Tumblr, but honestly I struggle The Most with learning from video tutorials. I prefer things written out so we wanted to make this sort of tutorial as well for accessibility!

Additional tips & all of the products we use are under the cut. Feel free to shoot us a message if you have any questions or want more tutorials on wigs!

What We Use:

Wig: Pastel Purple Wavy Lace Front Synthetic Wig LF5110 from Wig Is Fashion. It technically comes with a curl but we straightened and recurled it differently. Whatever wig you get, just make sure you check that it's heat safe before attempting this!

Silicone Spray: Mane 'n Tail Detangler. Yes, this is technically for horses, but listen, it works SO WELL on synthetic wigs. It keeps it from getting all static-y and tangled. We've only ever used this brand but it works really well so we're def sticking with it.

Setting Spray: Schwarzkopf Got2b Glued Blasting Freeze Spray. This makes sure the curls you spent hours making actually hold!

Crimper: SixRiver Ceramic Waver Hair Tool with 4-in-1 Flat Crimping Iron Plates. This comes with four ceramic crimping plates and Nic uses the one with the "most wiggles" on the lowest setting (320). You can probably use any crimper that goes low enough. Crimp it fast, you aren't holding it like with curls.

Curling Iron: Conair 1 Inch Curling Iron. We use this on "19", whatever that means because it doesn't actually have temperatures. Any curling iron with low enough heat settings will do, you might need to play with settings to make sure you don't melt the hair. Test it on the bottom of the lowest layer of hair where you could cut it off if you melt it. As with curls on human hair, different barrel widths will give you wildly different curl looks.

Teaser Brush & Large Tooth Comb: Honestly these probably came with one of our first hair cutting or wig styling kits so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Apparently the teaser brush is Revlon branded.

We aren't sponsored by anyone, this is just what we use! Feel free to substitute in anything that you have / know works well with wigs. We hope this helps! Please let us know what other cosplay or crafting tutorials you'd like to see <3

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raccoonfallsharder · 1 year ago

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ᯓ⋆｡°✩ practice

for a nonnie who asks the important questions navigation | the eidos collection | main masterlist

spice | no use of y/n | gn reader | oneshot | word count: 1,684.

you're not quite as good as rocket when it comes to braiding. luckily, he's a kind and benevolent soul who just wants to give you the chance to improve. or, you accidentally seduce rocket. he intentionally seduces you back. WARNINGS: general suggestiveness, lil bit of pining on your part. eidos-rocket is a bossy little shit and calls you buttercup x2. this is pure lighthearted fun & doesn’t delve into the inner workings of rocket’s trust-issues and angst.

brave nonnie asked, do you have any headcanons for Eidos Rocket with an S/O? and the answer is too many and also why am i like this.

navigation | the eidos collection | main masterlist

“Hey.”

You’d looked up, startled that he was talking to you. You’d been curled up on the mustard-yellow sofa, catching up on one of drax’s favorite dramas on a holopad, and you’d been careful not to look up when Rocket had entered the space and plopped down on the couch across from you. The fact that he’d been out here at all — willing to share space with you — had seemed like something of a miracle, and you’d had to fight every instinct to not steal surreptitious glances out of your periphery. He’d been in a suit — broad shoulders and a narrow waist, the plume of his tail as ridiculously thick and fluffy as always — carefully rebraiding his beard.

“How’s this look?”

You’d hesitated, squinting one eye and screwing up the corner of your mouth. “You look good,” you’d admitted, and he’d preened.

“Got a hot date,” he’d informed you smugly, and it had made something in your belly plummet low. It hadn’t even been anything new — Rocket had been going out as long as you’d known him, whenever the Milano had docked somewhere that had allowed for it. Still, the prospect of dealing with him the next day, after he’d thoroughly enjoyed yet another apparently-meaningless one-night-stand? The idea of watching him smirk smugly for hours while he accused everyone else of needing to get laid? It had made your vagus nerve twist miserably. You’d wished you could roll your eyes at yourself without him misinterpreting the look.

You’ve got to get over this stupid crush of yours.

“Cool,” you’d said aloud, weakly. “Have fun.”

He’d been the one who’d ended up rolling his eyes — still at your expense — and you’d decided to live vicariously through his disdainful expression. "The beard okay?” he’d asked, persistent.

You’d leaned forward, hinging at the waist to see better. It had looked a bit asymmetrical — like one side had been braided a little more tightly than the other — and once you’d begun studying it, you’d been able to see a few threads of glossy fur that had crimped up and escaped between the beads. You’d gestured with your own hands to your chin.

“It’s not quite as neat as it usually is,” you’d admitted, and to be honest, it had given you a frisson of concern. He’d always been obsessive about his fur: brushing out his tail with quick deft fingers whenever he thought there might be a bit of debris in it, making sure his goggles didn’t damage the soft velvet pile at the base of his ears. Distractedly finger-combing the ruff at his throat and cheeks throughout the day, probably without even realizing it. He’d been particularly meticulous about the goatee — intentional in a way that had immediately endeared him even further to you. He’d always kept the silky-looking beard immaculate, and you can’t remember ever seeing even a hair out of place on it, outside of the occasional firefight — and even that had been rare.

His lip had curled in something between a snarl and a grimace. “Mirror in my room got broken in that last tangle with the Badoon,” he’d admitted. “I’ve been trying to do it without seeing.” He’d begun loosening the little braid, about to make another attempt.

You’d hesitated, then cautiously set aside the holopad. “Let me?”

You’d braced yourself for some loud, derisive comment, already wincing — but he’d been silent. When you’d dared to look across at him, he’d been sizing you up, one eye half-squinted and both of them dark and inscrutable.

“Okaaay,” he’d said slowly. “Yeah, okay.” A scowl and a dismissive wave of one clawed hand. “Don’t flark it up.”

You’d risen cautiously, keeping your eyes on his chin — afraid you’d lose your nerve if you’d looked anywhere else. Without thinking, you’d gently nudged his knees apart with your own, and dropped down between them. The foam pad on the floor had given you a little bit of protection from the duranium plating underneath, but you hadn’t bothered trying to get comfortable. Instead, you’d focused on sliding your hands between his own, gently loosening them from where they’d gone still in his beard. You’d slid the beads aside and placed them carefully in his palm, trying to ignore the heated-leather of his hand brushing your fingertips. Then you’d gently — almost reverently — unlaced the braid. The strands had been so silky and glossy, cool as water flowing over your fingers. This close, you’d been able to smell him: the gingery scent of burnt everbloom, a whiff of iron. Something like cedar and black pepper.

Oh, you’d thought, trying not to pout. He's going to make his date drool.

You try not to be the jealous sort but, it had seemed so unfair. You’d gotten butterflies just because he’d been willing to tolerate your presence enough to be in the same room with you. Meanwhile, he’d seemed unmoved by you in any way — vacillating only between a distant acceptance of your occasional accidental displays of affection and admiration, and utter, debilitating annoyance.

Debilitating for you, anyway.

It hadn’t been that you hadn’t wanted him to go out — not exactly. You’d wanted him to have fun, to be happy, to enjoy people and drinks and whatever. You’d only wished that the prospect of him spending the night with someone else hadn’t made your heart turn over so forlornly in your chest.

The stupid organ had thought it was an abandoned kitten at a shelter, mewing for a home.

God, you’d thought suddenly. What if he brings his date back to get laid?

You’d released a miserable little sigh without meaning to, your breath fanning gently over the silk of his beard and his mouth. You’d seen his lips part over a brief flash of sharp teeth — then close and tighten — and you’d tried to ignore the knot of misery in your belly while you’d smoothed the strands into three sections, stroking them until they’d been sleek as satin ribbon. Tenderly — careful not to pull — you’d begun to weave the sections together, nice and even.

You’d braided it all the way to the end, to help the beads slide on more smoothly — a wooden one that looked remarkably like Groot, a red sphere, and two black nuts. You’d plucked them like berries from where he’d set them on the cushion at his side. Tying the tail with the tiny clear elastic had been the most difficult part — you’d been so worried about tugging too hard — and then you’d eased the bottom two nuts down to cover the tie before carefully combing out the ends with your fingers, rumpling the loose strands free of the braid. Leaning back, you’d braced your hands on his thighs and eyed your work critically.

“It’s not quite as good as it usually is,” you’d admitted, ribs all tight and guilty on your lungs, “but it’s better than what you had just now.”

When you’d glanced up at the rest of his face, your breath had tangled into a gasp. His eyes had been hot and dark, roving over you. The ghost of surprise had still been gleaming in them, but if he’d been stunned when you’d dropped yourself to your knees between his thighs, that shock — along with the tooth-gritting frustration and confusion and conflict that he’d been silently grappling with since the first mission he’d shared with you — had mostly faded in the wake of something infinitely more focused and intent.

After all, an opportunity had fallen — well, not in his lap so much as directly between his thighs — but he’d never been one to check a free ship for a serial number.

“Well,” he’d said, his voice low and drawling, dripping like half-crystallized maple syrup all over your skin, “maybe you just need more practice, buttercup.”

Which is probably how you find yourself a few cycles later, tucked inside Rocket’s bunk, sprawled over his belly in the curve of his hammock: trying to comb through the satiny threads while his claws prickle against the skin of your shoulderblade.

“Focus,” he says, and snickers when you jolt under the sharp tickle of his claws. He’s leaning back against his other hand and forearm, tilting his chin up while he looks down the sides of his face at you with glinting, teasing eyes.

“You’re distracting me,” you protest, fingers shaking as you try to divide the lengths of silken fur into even sections. Your eyes blur when the leathery pads of his fingers slip delicately under the edge of your tanktop, coasting against your skin. It’s a struggle not to squirm against him — a fight that you must be losing, based on the growing grin in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re distracting me,” he mimics, pitching his voice into something far more whiny than is fair. You scowl. “How are you gonna get better at this if we don’t increase the difficulty-level? C’mon,” he adds, finding that spot next to your spine that always makes you arch when he presses insistently against the muscle, “M’not even using both hands.”

You glower at him, but the look falls apart when he massages his fingers into that spot again. A shudder runs from the nape of your neck to the small of your back — an inhale catching and rattling in your lungs, so sudden you feel it in the back of your throat — and your hips buck against him without your conscious permission. Heat pools in your abdomen and your cheeks, radiant. You wrangle up all your self-control to attempt a glare.

“Aww,” he jeers. “You’re flarkin’ cute when you pout.”

“Be nice.” You try to sound firm — commanding. “I’m the one with the power, here.” To make your point, you tug gently on the silk strands woven between your fingers.

But Rocket just grins at you lazily, whiskey-dark eyes hooded and warm. “That’s a laugh.”

His fingers dive deep into that muscle again, making you gasp and crumple against him. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve just pulled harder than intended on the lengthy strands of fur at his chin. Then his hand is coasting up the valley of your spine — claws dancing and teasing, leaving threads of fire and chills in their wake. The hot ribbons of desire in your abdomen suddenly feel braided themselves: twisted together and tightening, beaded with arousal.

“Just ‘cause you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re in charge,” he gloats. “And I got it on good authority that you like it when I’m a little mean.” His hand sweeps up to anchor to the back of your throat: not squeezing, just resting the warm weight of his palm there, fingers collaring the sides of your neck in a way that makes a shiver run the length of your spine again. His grin widens and his eyes grow smoky and heated.

“Now get back to work, buttercup.”

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themuseinthewoods · 6 months ago

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Fancy

this is inspired by Reba McEntire's song Fancy so SONGFIC

An amazing song, Reba is incredible. In this work, the reader is a performer that comes with the trope into Tombstone that night. She hasn't been through exactly what the woman in the song has but something similar. could be Wyatt, Johnny or Doc x reader as they all end up admiring her. Enjoy! (sorry, there is a lot of gifs). Use of Y/n, f!reader, who is telling the story in the beginning.

I might do endings for each guy, who knows.

@rock-n-macabre, okay so, I honestly kinda based Y/n on you, because you said you did shooting stuff and you seem really cool and I wanted that to come through with Y/n.

Florentino and Josephine were, at the time, my two dearest friends. They had taken me off the street after Floren had heard me sing and decided that his traveling troop needed just that. A tragic singer. I kept my head down when Floren helped me down after Josie from the carriage. I was wearing a suit, it's easier to travel in then the dresses that Josie preferred to wear. I could feel the eyes on me, curious eyes, I glanced up and saw two men standing the street looking towards us. Josie was eyeing one of them, but I couldn't tell if they were looking at me or her.

I followed Josie to our room, to ready myself for the evening of entertainment that we were to provide to the town of Tombstone. It took me awhile to carefully crimp and curl my hair, perfect my makeup and then adjust the dress, earrings and necklace I always preformed in.

"Y/n, you're on after Josie." Floren told me as I carefully came down to the side stage. The crowd was rowdy, different than any I had ever seen. Shooting when they approved of something, like the people in my home town.

Soon enough, Josie ended and as part of the act, three of the men scurried out to set up a microphone, I kept the coat that hid my dress on as I walked onto the stage, standing next to them with a raised brow. Finally they left and with an eye roll I stepped behind the mic, throwing off the coat, gasps came from the men and a few whistles.

The music began and I let my voice carry me.

"Well, I remember it all very well lookin' back It was the summer I turned eighteen We lived in a one-room, run-down shack On the outskirts of New Orleans We didn't have money for food or rent To say the least we were hard-pressed Then mama spent every last penny we had To buy me a dancin' dress." I watched the face of one man, his eyes went wide when I began singing, he was one of the Cowboys, with a dragon embroidered across the chest of his shirt.

"Mama washed and combed and curled my hair And she painted my eyes and lips Then I stepped into a satin dancin' dress That had a split on the side clean up to my hip It was red velvet trim and it fit me good Standin' back from the lookin' glass There stood a woman where a half-grown kid had stood." "Her voice is that of angels." Ringo muttered half to himself and Curly laughed beside him, shaking his head.

"She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down" Doc and Wyatt glanced at each other, silently agreeing the beauty on the stage was just that, bewitching.

"Mama dabbed a little bit of perfume on my neck, then she kissed my cheek And then I saw the tears wellin' up in her troubled eyes when she started to speak She looked at her pitiful shack And then she looked at me and took a ragged breath She said, "Your pa's runned off, I'm real sick And the baby's gonna starve to death" My eyes closed, my fists lenching, remembering my own father leaving me and my mother

"She handed me a heart-shaped locket that said "To thine own self be true." And I shivered as I watched a roach crawl across The toe of my high-heeled shoe It sounded like somebody else that was talkin' Askin', "Mama, what do I do?" She said, "Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy And they'll be nice to you." The eyes of the men in the room went wide, my own eyes opening to greet there stares, unfazed.

"She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down Lord, forgive me for what I do But if you want out, well, it's up to you Now don't let me down Now your mama's gonna move you uptown." The pain in mothers voice when Floren had asked her to let me go with him, but she knew it was for the best.

"Well, that was the last time I saw my mama The night I left that rickety shack The welfare people came and took the baby Mama died and I ain't been back."

"But the wheels of fate had started to turn And for me there was no way out It wasn't very long 'til I knew exactly What my mama'd been talkin' about." Ringo's eyes blazed at the mention of such a thing, Doc looked surprised and Wyatt sighed heavily. I hadn't seen the Cowboys in the little while I had been in the town.

"I knew what I had to do and I made myself this solemn vow That I's gonna be a lady someday Though I didn't know when or how But I couldn't see spending the rest of my life With my head hung down in shame You know I might have been born just plain white trash But Fancy was my name." Some of the Cowboys were smiling wickedly at me and I was ever grateful for my gun tucked into my bra.

"She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down" She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down"

"It wasn't long after that benevolent man took me in off the street And one week later I was pourin' his tea in a five-room hotel suite (yes, she was) I charmed a king, a congressman and an occasional aristocrat And then I got me a Georgia mansion and an elegant New York townhouse flat And I ain't been back (she ain't been back)" My backup singers sauntered onto the stage, dancing and swaying with the music, and I did a little sway and the Cowboys laughed in delight.

"Now in this world, there's a lot of self-righteous hypocrites That would call me bad They criticize my mama for turning me out No matter how little we had"

"But though I ain't had to worry 'bout nothin' for now on fifteen years Well, I can still hear the desperation in my poor mama's voice ringin' in my ears"

"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down" She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down Lord, forgive me for what I do But if you want out, well, it's up to you Now don't let me down Now your Mama's gonna move you uptown"

"Well, I guess she did." The last line was spoken and the music ended, I took a bow, standing with a smile as guns were fired into the sky and applause filled the air, and I twirled off stage, a flurry of red fabric and sequins, grinning into the arms of my friends. "You were wonderful as always!" Florentino praised, hugging me tightly.

I laughed happily, and as we closed the stage, Floren offered me his arm and led me (red dress and all) to the Oriental saloon, applause sounded ahead of us when Josie entered but that which sounded when I entered was more so. I grinned, holding my hands over my heart to show how much it meant to me. I slowly walked to Faro table, I was a wiz at faro and a few of the men I had seen at my show were there. "Twenty on the one." I said and the man dealing the cards looked up at me in surprise, pausing. I shrugged, my smile widening. "We all have our vices."

I won forty bucks and I was welcomed to stay with them, the man I learned was Doc Holliday made me laugh with his wit and all. "Mr. Earp, would you mind signing an autograph for me, sir? My wife's not gonna believe this." I glanced towards the dealer, that's where I knew him from, two men, one in a red shirt and the over in grey expect for the dragon embroidered across his chest under his neck tie. The latter looking a me with a stare that felt intense, but at the same time, that's whose gaze had been fixed so firmly upon me I could feel it.

"Wyatt Earp, huh? Heard of you." Someone said to Wyatt, but my eyes were on Ringo, trying to read him.

"Listen now, Mr Kansas Law Dog. Law don't go around here. Savvy?" "I'm retired." "Good." I cocked my head, meeting Ringo's gaze with my own intense one, something that seemed to surprise him. "That's real good." "Yeah. Yeah, that's real good, law dog, 'cause lawjust don't go around here."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. Winner to the king. $500." "Shut up, Ike." Curly ordered and Ringo's gaze slid from me to Doc Holliday.

"You must be Doc Holliday."

Doc was sipping his drink and looked up as if surprised. "That's the rumour." "You retired too?"

"Not me. I'm in my prime."

"Yeah, you look it."

"You must be Ringo." Doc said with feigned politeness before turning to me, his tone light. "Look, darlin', Johnny Ringo, the deadliest pistoleer since Wild Bill, they say. What do you think, darlin', should I hate him?" My gaze went from Doc to Ringo, ignoring the nickname he had already given me.

"You don't even know him." I finally stated, my eyes moving back to Doc. "No. That's true, but... don't know, there's just somethin' about him. Somethin' 'round the eyes. I don't know." He paused, as if trying irritate his opposite. "Reminds me of...Me. No. I'm sure of it, I hate him."

"He's drunk." Wyatt spoke, clearly trying to defuse the situation as doc raised his cup again. "“in vino veritas” Ringo took a step forwards, "“age quod agis” Doc looked surprised, but spoke again. “Credat Judaeus Apella, non ego”

"Eventus stultorum magister." Johnny said gesturing to his gun.

"in pace requiescat." Doc drank the rest of his cup.

"Come on, boys, we don't want any trouble in here, not in any language." an older man tried to interfere and my gaze was on Ringo so I didn't see who he was.

"That's Latin, darlin'. Evidently, Mr Ringo's an educated man. Now I really hate him." Ringo put a gun in Docs face, he didn't flinch once.

"Watch it, Johnny. I hear he's real fast." He spun his gun around at Curly's words, doing several moves, the cowboys cheering him on. His eyes glimpsed to me, I admittedly, was unimpressed. Where I come from, being able to handle a gun like that is normal, you have to know how to, or it'll be your death.

When he finished moving and stuck it in his holster, doc began to do the same thing with his glass, I was very grateful for my glass that could use a distraction. It was pretty funny though.

When he finished, many of the patrons laughed and Curly Bill came up to me, throwing his winnings in the air. "Drinks are on me!"

The rest of the night I felt three pairs of eyes on me. One belonging to Wyatt Earp, one belonging to Doc Holliday and the last, to Johnny Ringo himself.

#Spotify #tombstone 1993 #one shot #songfic #doc holliday #wyatt earp #johnny ringo #x reader #tombstone 1993 x reader #should I do endings for each guy?#muse writes fanfic

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liliththeimp · 5 months ago

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Meeting the prince

(Rafe x pouge! Reader)

A/n: a completely wild and random thot but I felt like being a pick me so if you have a problem I have an inbox…..may continue in another pit of longing 😋

Cw: none, just fluff and non sexual tension lol

not proof read ‼️

———

Your hands sunk deeper into your chilled flesh, bubbled with little goosebumps from the soft flush of beach air slapping against you.

Another party at the boneyard, another clumsy accident where you spilled beer all over yourself and now you stood frozen and isolated on a piece of abandoned and bleached wood.

You couldn’t handle the loud boom of the kook’s music, couldn’t handle mingling or flirting with drunk kooks either. Your best friends were off doing just that, drunk and mingling so you took sanctuary by yourself, on a log, counting stars above you and seashells that washed between your feet.

Your hands coddled your arms still, slightly shaking at the cold before you finally decided to call it a night, wanting to trudge alone through the muggy marshes to your grandfathers little wounded and melting shack, eroded from countless storms but still standing sturdy nonetheless.

With your head bowed, weaving through thick crowds of people on the outskirts of the party, typically clumsy and uncoordinated little you, ran smack dab into the chest of the Rafe Cameron.

It wasn’t like you could tell it was him until his mouth opened with a painful hiss of his phone slipping into the sand and a subtle ‘bitch’ peeping from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered up, apologizing with a flamed face and flickered between the floor and his mouth, debating picking up his phone for him.

He, just as stunned, stood there and watched you. You weren’t someone he would ever interact with in a million years, yet he regretting calling you a bitch for the fact you skittishly picked up his phone and simpered apologies like how he spends money.

With a slight tremor in your frail and awkward fingers handed him back his phone, dusting off the sand the best you could.

He shook his head, rubbing his face with a groan (mainly for the inconvenience and self control he took not to speak back to you) before taking the phone with a rude yank and quick ‘thanks’.

You nodded and coddled your arms again as another gust of cold air crept behind you.

Before he left and lost the chance to talk to you again, Rafe awkwardly opened his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself but apart of him only did it out of pity. You almost reminded him of wheezie, skittish and a cumbersome sense of social cues

“you leaving?” He strained, eyes wincing as he looked off the crowd, hoping his friends wouldn’t see him.

You bit your top lip, nervously peeling the skin away with your teeth as you nodded, he took notice you didn’t like eye contact. Was that a choice out of intimidation or were you just fucking weird?

“You cold?” He asked again, bowing his head slightly as he tried to match up your face. The curls of your hair framing and falling into your face to hide, years of swimming had crimped the strands, he assumed.

Maybe he could take you to the beach sometimes. Alone. Together.

He sighed, checking his surroundings one last time before he peeled off his jacket, his stupid tacky collared shirt hiking up his abdomen with it before he gently tossed it to you.

It was a worn down fleece, a subtle faded brown in the dark of the boneyard with a beach musk that smelled too rich for lifetimes you’d never see.

He insisted you put on the jacket, smiling with only a corner of his mouth as he spoke with a shrug, watching you fumble to find the opening for your head and slipped on the slightly oversized coat, enveloped in the warmth it brought.

“Keep it. I know you think im an asshole, but im still a gentleman.”

#impishthots #Drabble #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #obx imagine

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sillyreve · 2 years ago

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What the characters of What We Do In The Shadows do if you play with their hair HCs

. . .

Nadja

• she definitely has a love hate relationship to people touching her hair

• shes very picky as to who can touch her hair, when they can touch her hair and where they can touch her hair !!!

• first ask permission !!! she will not mind if her hair is wavy or semi straight, but DO NOT TOUCH her hair if it is curly or crimped

• sometimes you can surprise her by massaging her head when shes tired or stressed, she wont get upset if you didnt ask permission first as she is too drained to care and too much in the moment of enjoying your fingers at her scalp

• her favorite thing is when shes tired and shes laid out on yours and laszlos laps, your fingers working at her scalp and his hands working at whatever tense muscle is in her body

• if you are her familiar, you will have to have a very special bond with her before she will let you touch her at all

• but if you do have a special bond with her, she will gladly accept a free hair brushing service, and let you pick her hairstyle for the day

The Guide

• will absolutely give you every bit of her attention if you suggest playing with her hair

• she rarely takes off her hat, but she will definitely take her hats off if you ever want to play with her hair

• they almost purr whenever you touch their hair, she loves it so much, to be with you and have your attention on her ... ♡

• unlike nadja, guide doesnt care when you play with her hair, or what texture her hair is !!! please, play with her hair whenever

• there are times where she will slip unconscious accidently when you are massaging her scalp, shes always so busy that even a small quiet intimate moment like this will have her instantly relax

Laszlo

• hed act like he would have much better things to be doing than to sit in front of you and let you mess with his hair

• but he does enjoy it when hes upset after a house fight, the house is quiet and you curling your fingers through his hair makes him feel peaceful

• he would close his eyes and all you would bear is the habit of his breathing and the fireplace crackling

• like nadja, he cares when his hair is being played with !!!

• he enjoys it when you play with his hair alone with one another, but hes not quite fond of his hair being olayed with in public

• if you want to surprise him like nadja, gently pull his hair into a small bun whilst he is writing, and he will hum at you in gentle happiness

• appreciating that you care for him after seeing him struggling with his hair pooling into his face as he leans into his papers

Vladislav

• ugh he loves it so much it makes him feel so loved

• ever since the first time you asked him if you could play with his hair, he has always gone to you to do his hair for anything

• if you do his hair for an event and people compliment it, he gets so giddy and tells them how his " darling y/n" did his hair for him

• he feels so comfortable in his coffin with you snuggled up into his chest and playing with a piece of his wavy hair

• the fact you make a vampiric 700+ year old killer feel so precious really says something !!!

• hair pulling kink

Viago

• ^__^ please !!!

• he will obediently sit down in front of you and put his hands in his lap if you even hint at playing with his hair

• one of his love languages is physical touch, receiving or giving, he will always be up for his hair being played with, or playing with your hair

• he will always keep a conversation going while you do anything to his hair, he loves knowing that you are the one playing with his hair

• his natural childish charm comes out if you decide to joke with him, and mess up his hair

• he cannot see himself or what his hair looks like, but he will always praise your work no matter what

Deacon

• please do not touch his hair, hes spent so much time styling it

• he has this annoying habit of just wanting to always look good, and he usually never takes anyones advice on how to look good, so hes very picky and annoying when someone touches his hair

• even when hes too drained to care for anything, he will simply groan in frustration if you touch his hair

• and if youre aggressive with his hair when youve managed to touch it? he will definitely fuss over it and will not speak to you for a couple of hours

• but its ok for him to touch your hair he decided so be aware of him at all times or he might ruffle your hair and laugh at you

#wwdits hcs #nadja #the guide #laszlo cravensworth #vladislav the poker #viago von dorna schmarten scheden heimburg #deacon brücke #x reader

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dragons-bones · 10 months ago

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FFXIV Write Entry #7: In Pie We Crust

Prompt: morsel || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: This is one time I'm not sorry for a pun. This is your only warning about what's coming, have a snack ready. YOU ARE WELCOME.

---

Rereha was a grown woman, halfway through her thirties, had helped save the world multiple times over, but absolutely nothing reverted her to being a twelve-year old sproglet like Angharad Greywolfe’s baking.

The kitchen in the Greywolfe ancestral seat wasn’t as familiar to her as the one in Isolde Greywolfe’s ostentatious manor was; the furniture was different, the shelves of different placement and style and material. But the layout was, almost to the ilm, the same, with a great table as the centerpiece. Aunt Angharad’s influence, certainly, as even with a score of servants manning the household, the Greywolfe matriarch preferred to make the kitchen her domain, to her good-sister’s continued bafflement.

Considering how large and heavy the table was, how darkened and worn the surface, Rere suspected that whatever Garlean household had squatted here during the occupation had decided trying to move the thing was more trouble than it was worth.

The chairs, though, were new, more like stools to accommodate the height of the work table, and Rereha perched on a lalafell-appropriate one, hands flat on the tabletop as she watched Aunt Angharad flit about her kitchen like a hunting hawk. Next to her, Lyse did similar.

“I think the last time I had a proper fruit pie,” Lyse said, her voice dripping with wistful lust, “was just before that damned banquet.”

Aunt Angharad nearly tripped over her own feet in her haste to pivot and stare at Lyse, just as Rere whipped her head around with a horrified squawk. “Lyse.”

Lyse nodded. “S’true. The Resistance cell that Papalymo and I stayed with when we snuck across the Wall had a good supply line, but any fresh fruit they got was dried for better storage, and wheat was for bread and hard tack—”

Rere and Lyse both went rap-rap with their knuckles against the wood, and shared a conspiratorial giggle.

“—and whatever pies were made were meat ones,” Lyse finished. “Pretty tasty, though! I’d forgotten how much I loved gazelle meat. But then we were scrambling back home, and the whole thing with the Griffin…” She paused again, breathing deep, and Rere leaned over to hug her as Aunt Angharad pushed a mug of spiced tea towards her. Lyse returned the hug, then sat up to reach for the mug and sip from it. “Thanks. So, the huge disaster Ilberd made, and then we were running around Gyr Abania and Othard and then I was suddenly given a leadership position and staying in Ala Mhigo, and here we are! I mean, sure, I’ve attended a few formal functions in Eorzea, but those only have the cute little cakes and cookies for dessert. And I’m a good little Gyr Abanian girl, I can and will fight Synnove for the last piece of kunifeh, but pie.”

“Mother Miounne’s blueberry pie,” Rere said dreamily.

Lyse moaned and thunked her head against the table. “With peach ice cream from the Bismarck! Oooohhhh, the way it melts right into the blueberry and makes this cold-and-hot sticky yummy fruit mess on the plate and in your mouth…”

Rere could taste the memory on her tongue as vivid as if she had just shoveled blueberries and ice cream into her mouth, and groaned rapturously.

“Well,” Aunt Angharad laughed setting down a pie tin, “it’s not blueberry, but something tells me that won’t disappoint you girls.”

Rereha and Lyse leaned forward, oohing and aahing in excited delight.

The top crust was perfectly golden brown and no doubt delicious, strips of dough layered into a lattice work as tightly-woven as any picnic basket and encrusted with a cinnamon-sugar mix before being baked. The edges had been neatly crimped, then pressed down with a fork so that the tines made pretty little impressions. A few strategic openings in the lattice allowed steam to escape, curling and dancing upwards and bringing with it the familiar scent of rich cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg and most importantly, cooked, tart apple.

Rereha and Lyse both took deep, appreciative lungfuls, holding the deliciousness in their noses before letting out sighs of pure happiness.

Aunt Angharad chuckled, and made the first cut. The pastry cracked satisfyingly and a shiver went down Rereha’s spine. Aw, yeah, she thought, reaching up to wipe away the drool from her mouth, Angharad Greywolfe’s own pie dough.

“Pie! Pie! Pie! Pie!” Lyse was chanting quietly, staring with huge eyes. Rereha started thumping her hands against the table in accompaniment.

One slice, two slices. With the deft expertise of the experience home cook, Aunt Angharad plated each one without losing any of the filing. Beautiful, spice-covered slices of apple glistened in the kitchen light, before it began to gently ooze out of shape and onto each plate.

Lyse’s stomach made a gurgling noise. Rereha’s followed.

Aunt Angharad’s expressions could properly be called “deeply smug.” She set a fork on each plate, and then gently slid them so they sat perfectly in front of them.

“Do enjoy, girls,” she said, sing-song, with the assurance that would do nothing less.

Rereha picked up her fork. So did Lyse. They clacked forks together, then used them to cut off a large piece of apple pie, and shove said pieces into their own mouths. And moaned.

The crust, as always, was perfectly flaky and soft and good in its own right, made with a combination of sweet cream butter and lard to create the lovely little layers. The crunch beneath Rereha’s teeth was oh-so-satisfying, especially against the soft apple slices.

The sugar-spice blend was cinnamon-dominant, as it should be, the other spices mixed with it added sparingly to enhance rather than overwhelm. Just a hint of the nutmeg, the warmth of ginger, and ooooh, yes, there was the star anise. Rereha continued to chew slowly, savoring each and every bit of this truly divine experience. Along with the sugar that Aunt Angharad had tossed the apples in, it was almost candy-like with how the sugar had caramelized as it cooked. Not quite enough to be a chewy treat in and of itself, of course, but more like a sauce, thick and rich and sweeeeeeeet. So, so, so good. And then the wonderful tartness of the apple, bright enough to cut through the sweet and ensure that the fruit was all that was left on the tongue in delicious memory as Rereha swallowed.

Rereha closed her eyes and sighed. “I love you so much, Auntie,” she said, opening her eyes to claim another bite. Beside her, Lyse was still making frankly obscene noises, cheeks bulging as she continued to chew her first huge bite.

Angharad’s laugh echoed from the other end of the kitchen, and she poked her head in from the cold room. A devious smile was on her lips. “Want some vanilla ice cream for that?”

Lyse nearly choked as she joined Rere’s shriek of, “YES!”

#ffxivwrite2024 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #lyse hext #oc: rereha reha #oc: angharad greywolfe #dt's writing #can you tell i have been craving apple pie #i really want some goddamn actually good apple pie

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y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff · 1 month ago

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Found some of my favorite ponies from the 90s!

Cabbage Patch Crimp 'n Curl Pegasus Ponies

mid 1990s

My picture of my stuff from childhood

#cabbage patch crimp n curl #cabbage patch ponies #1990s cabbage patch ponies #1990s cabbage patch #1990s pony #1990s nostalgia #my stuff #1990s toys #1990s kids #1990s childhood #vintage cabbage patch #cabbage patch #crimp n curl #pegasus #cabbage patch pegasus #1990s

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ilovebuckers5 · 1 year ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ur so pretty ੈ✩‧₊˚

paige bueckers x reader

theme:

fluff

comfort

suggestive and explicit language

A/N: this is my first time writing on tumblr don't judge. also sorry it's so short im not used to writing one shots ESPECIALLY fluff.

My hair still hasn't cooperated with me yet. i've straightened it, curled it, crimped it, scrunched it, nothing has worked. i got more and more upset until i tossed my hair straightener on the counter and sat down against the bathroom wall.

"fuck!"

call me dramatic but i was going to a very important meeting with some co workers i really didn't want to look like a hot mess. a couple tears rolled down my cheeks but i quickly wiped them away while sniffling. as i continued to sit there contemplating whether i should just not go or go with my natural hair. While a couple tears came down my cheeks followed by more and more and more... i heard the front door of my dorm unlock.

"Hun? you still here?"

Paige walked through the door shutting and locking it behind her. she set her duffel bag down and walked around the dorm looking for me. i stayed quiet so that paige wouldnt have to hear me crying. but she still found me in the bathroom leaning against the wall with only a bra and shorts on. she quickly kneeled down next to me and began to panic.

"baby whats wrong?" she said with heavy concern in her voice.

her hand wandered up to my cheek to wipe away a couple more tears that i hadnt gotten before. she took her other hand up to the small of my back and began rubbing it to comfort me. she looked up at the counter and saw that the straightener had knocked over a couple things. she stood up and set everything up straight before lifting me up from the floor. i stood infront of the mirror and stared at my half curly half straight hair and more tears started going down my face. suddenly i felt paiges arms wrap around my stomach and started rubbing my skin. i leaned back onto her shoulder. she placed a soft kiss on my cheek before pushing me back up. after i got my composure back in place i went to grab the straightener, forgetting that i didnt turn it off before having a break down. when i went to grab it i grabbed the heated part (which was at 450* degrees). once the heat came intact with my palm i let out a loud cry before tossing the straightener back on the counter again.

"FUCK!" i yell out and cover my mouth after realizing how loud i was.

"shit are you ok hun? come here run it under water."

paige took my wrist and guided me to the kitchen. she ran my hand under water as we just stared at eachother. i took the moment to silently observe paige and all her flawless features. her pinky lips. her icy blue eyes. and god her jawline. i was so lost in her beauty i forgot what i was doing and ended up getting my entire arm soaked with water.

"you ok beautiful?"" paige said smirking

i giggle a bit before answering

"ur so pretty paige."

paiges cheeks went red and she looked away. as paige was easily flustered i was easily falling even more inlove with her by the minute. a large smile grew on my mouth as i watched paige avoid eye contact. paiges face fell into her hands trying to cover her now completly reddened face. a couple laughs filled in the silence of embarassment that was lingering in the room. paige couldnt help but pull me into a long kiss. my heart started to flutter once i felt her soft lips pressed against mine. paige moved her hands to my back while mine were cupping the sides of her face. i felt her lips smile against mine. i slowly pulled away just to start placing softer kisses all over her face. her hand cradled my chin and pulled me away from her face. i noticed that her pupils were growing larger and larger the more she stared at me.

"i love you" paige said under her breath

"what?"

we had been together for only 5 months but it already felt like ive known paige my entire life. neither of us have said i love you yet and i definintly didnt think that would happen now. my eyes widened a little but i tried to keep calm instead of folding into paiges arms and simply collapsing.

"i...love you too" i said hesitantly.

i knew that i loved her i dont know why it felt hesitant. actually paige was the first person ive loved for this long without something going wrong. she picked up my hands and held them in hers. her hands were slightly cold but it felt nice after burning mine.

#`#Spotify #paige bueckers

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megalony · 4 months ago

Text

Safety And Sanctuary

This is a new Eric imagine from A Quiet Place, requested by the lovely @bib200 I hope you like how it turned out.

Any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Main Masterlist

Summary: On their way to leave the city and find somewhere safer to hide, (Y/n) and Eric run into problems when she goes into labour. And they have to try and find a way to keep their baby quiet in a world of silence.

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Was it pointless? Was this perilous journey they were taking too far fetched for their newfound reality? Was this worth it, or should they just give up now?

So many questions bombarded (Y/n)'s mind as the couple trudged down the seemingly empty street.

Walking had never been so dangerous. (Y/n) never would have thought that something as simple as walking, a task every parent praised their child for acomplishing, would become so frightening in the space of one day. But then again, who ever would have thought that uttering a single sound could cause the end of their life?

The spitting of rain was getting more pronounced and prominent and something about the rain was soothing, as if the world was crying along with them and mourning what was lost.

(Y/n)'s arms bound tighter around her chest and a defiant look crossed her face as she tilted her head back until her neck ached and she was staring up at the weeping sky. Droplets of rain cascaded down onto her face, mixing in with the long since dried tears and the heat consuming her skin from so much panic and confusion.

The bustling streets had never been (Y/n)'s cup of tea. So many people crowding together, pushing, shoving and making crude remarks as each tried to go their own way and move in a hurry. But something about seeing the streets of New York looking so desolate and empty was horrifying.

They didn't know where they were going, not really.

They would probably walk until the sun started to set and they needed to find somewhere to rest their heads and cower in fear for the night and see if they lasted until morning.

Twisting her head to the left, (Y/n) snook a glance over at Eric. It was almost funny how one day could change things so much.

Only yesterday (Y/n) had dragged her fingers through Eric's hair and pulled him down by his tie to give him a kiss of luck as he headed to the office where he worked. He was going to be a lawyer. Not anymore. Now the world had descended into madness and despair, there was no need for lawyers, survival didn't include that role in this new world.

Eric looked like he had been through the wars. His curly hair was disshevelled and array with curls in ever direction, some crimped up, some stood on end and others flattened down near his forehead. His hands were lathered in dust and dirt that was clogged beneath his nails. His face was painted with smoke and grime and those chocolate brown eyes were practically drowning in sorrow.

He hadn't taken off his tie, (Y/n) wasn't quite sure why considering she knew her husband hated to have to wear one. Maybe he thought it would come in handy in an emergency for something. Maybe he wanted to cling to that essence of himself that he was before the world broke out into chaos.

His white and brown striped shirt was now permanently dark beige with dust and patches of dirt smudged into the material. The only part of him that didn't look raggedy was his trousers.

And when (Y/n) glanced down, she found herself smiling despite their situation. Eric wasn't wearing his shoes. He had taken them off before they left the apartment because the heels made a noise and clicked against the pavement when he walked. The city had once been so full of noise that it hadn't dawned on Eric that he made such little, insignificant noises such as the clicking of his shoes or heavy breathing or little sighs now and then. All of which he couldn't do anymore, lest he wanted his life to be cut dramatically short.

So Eric was simply wearing his socks, padding along the pavement like he had lost each and every one of his senses.

When Eric's head angled down in her direction and he caught her staring, a small blush crept up the side of his neck despite the grime layering his skin and he smiled.

(Y/n) was the only consolation Eric had.

If his wife hadn't made it through this ordeal, then Eric wouldn't be standing here right now. He would have thrown himself in the river or stood on the side street and screamed until a creature came and took him. He wouldn't be able to survive in a world like this on his own. He couldn't get through this uncertainty and turmoil if (Y/n) wasn't stood by his side, guiding him and calming him down.

'Okay?'

It was hard to mouth the word and not use his voice or make the tiniest whisper, but it was something they were going to have to get used to now.

When she nodded, Eric wa as careful as he could be, adjusting the bag on his shoulder so it stayed where it was and didn't risk sliding down his arm. Allowing him to reach his right arm out and curve it around (Y/n)'s waist so he could reel her into his side.

His lips and nose meshed into the top of her head against her hair and he tried to take slow, calming breaths as the pair of them slowly weaved onto the road. They both had the same idea, walking on the other side of the desolate road to be under shelter of building scaffolding.

Eric couldn't stop from darting his eyes down to (Y/n) again once they were under shelter and the rain was no longer clinging to his lashes and clogging his eyes. His gaze drifted down to her hands, a sense of nostalgia and paranoia washing over him all at once when (Y/n) started absentmindedly gliding her hand over her stomach while her other arm was wrapped tightly around Eric's waist.

When (Y/n) saw where Eric was staring, she felt shivers coursing down her spine and she came to a slow stop. She leaned to peek towards the road, listening to how loud the rain was battering down against the scaffolding and the pavement. They might just have a tiny bit of leeway here to whisper under the protection of rain, without alerting any creatures that might be lurking nearby.

"Do you think we can do this?" (Y/n) kept her voice as quiet as possible and motioned to the rain when Eric's bewildered eyes widened like he assumed she was trying to get them killed. The rain would cover their voices; it would give them protection.

She watched the way he dragged his hand through his damp hair and he nodded instinctively. Maybe he wasn't sure if he believed they could do this, but he wanted to hope that they could. Eric would delude himself if necessary, but he wouldn't go around thinking the worst and assuming that they couldn't do this.

Or what was the point?

"We have to try." Eric kept his hand on (Y/n)'s waist, trying hard not to dig his fingers too tightly into her flesh and leave indents or bruises but if he wasn't holding her tight he felt like he was going to lose her.

All they could do was try. If they went ahead in this world thinking that nothing was possible and their death was imminent then it most likely would be. But if they tried, if they pushed and did whatever they could to keep their little family alive and find some kind of sanctuary and their own sense of normality back in this world, then that was enough. They had to try and survive.

And Eric couldn't bear the thought of thinking about what would go wrong. He had to delude himself or he would descend into panic.

Why couldn't this strange type of apocalypse have happened years from now or even just a few months from now? Why did it have to happen right in this moment, when (Y/n) was pregnant? Why did the world have to come to a halt when (Y/n) was so close to giving birth? Fate seemed to be against them.

(Y/n) let her cheek rest on Eric's arm as she switched from having her arm around his torso to curl her hand around his arm instead.

"Babies cry, Eric. We can't tell them to cry only when it rains." (Y/n) didn't want to be thinking like this, she didn't want to be the cynical one who looked only on the dark side, but she couldn't help it.

Her due date was next week. If they made it past this week it would only get harder when (Y/n) eventually went into labour and had their baby.

They had been so happy when they found out, they had been so eager to start a family and have a baby together, and now, just as that dream had become visible on the horizon, it was taken away from them.

Bringing up a baby in a world of forced silence and contemplation like this wasn't natural, it wasn't ideal or even likely to happen.

(Y/n) couldn't fathom how they were going to stop their baby from crying once they were born- provided that the birth went well and there was nothing wrong with their baby. She couldn't constantly feed the baby to try and keep them quiet, she couldn't force them to sleep all the time or drug them into a comatose state to keep them alive. Babies cried, it was a natural fact and if they had a fussy baby or their baby developed coelic or some other disorder or illness, they were going to cry and wriggle and make a fuss.

If they had their baby a year or two ago, this would be different. They could teach and learn their child to be quiet, they could make up their own form of sign language and implement it into their child to be silent. They could teach them the dangers and try to bring them up in this silent world. But a baby, that was near impossible in this situation.

"How do we keep a baby quiet without smothering them?"

(Y/n) could feel tears welling up in her eyes when she looked up at Eric and saw how her words had cut through him like a knife. His expression had fallen and his features were changing between blushing rouge and turning a pasty shade of grey.

"Don't say that." Despite the low whisper, there was a snappy tone to his voice that he couldn't hide.

He was in tears just thinking about it. Did (Y/n) think Eric hadn't considered those kind of situations? Did she think he hadn't contemplated the fact that in a dire situation, if a creature was imminent, they could quite possibly smother their baby to death trying to keep them quiet and unheard.

But Eric didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to lose himself to those kind of thoughts because they were harrowing and frightening and he couldn't think about their baby like that.

This was their child, this was the baby they had waited so long to have and meet and hold. And Eric was going to do whatever he had to to keep them and (Y/n) safe. He knew (Y/n) felt the same, he knew she was willing to do whatever they had to in order to protect their baby and try to keep one another alive. But it wasn't going to be easy, thousands of things could happen or go wrong.

"If we get on a boat or near the water, we might not be able to make any noise."

(Y/n) had heard the announcements, the tanoids telling people to get to the water, that boats were sailing and taking people out into the water where these creatures wouldn't venture. But something might happen. These things might evolve or manage to get out onto the water and that was a terrifying thought. They might not be safe even in water.

If they got on a boat or found somewhere to stay near the sea, they might still have to be silent and that posed the same question. How were they going to keep their baby quiet?

"We will, something will happen, somehow we'll do this. We live on a boat in the middle of nowhere, or- or we live under a waterfall, I don't know. But we do this. There have to be other people on those boats and out there with newborns and toddlers, it's not just us."

Eric hoped he was right. He hoped they weren't the only ones who survived this ordeal with children imminent. He was sure that there would be a number of people out there trying to protect their kids, people with babies, mothers leaving the hospital with newborns, trying to keep them safe and alive.

There would be parents and young children on those boats sailing out into the sea. There had to be. And Eric and (Y/n) would soon be one of those couples, going out to sea or hiding somewhere near gushing water, protecting their baby.

"Okay." (Y/n) didn't want to argue and they had already tried to take provisions and talk about what they would do.

If they could get on a boat, then that's what they would do. If they couldn't, they would aim for any desolate place that seemed safe enough to hide in which was near water. They would wait to find other people to evacuate with and escape to somewhere more enclosed and safe. There had to be areas and aspects of the country- the world, even, that would be safe enough for them to live and bring up their child and just survive.

She nuzzled her cheek into Eric's sleeve while he kissed the top of her head and they slowly started to trudge ahead again.

It wasn't like them to walk this slow, even with (Y/n) being nine months pregnant and feeling like her back was aching and her stomach was weighing her forward. They didn't usually walk like they were both crippled, but they had to be quiet.

Eric was trying not to shake the bag on his shoulder or make any kind of sound.

The backpack on (Y/n)'s shoulders was packed with clothes and essentials they would need, anything that might rattle had been wrapped up in their shirts and bottoms to smother any noise. The bag Eric carried wasn't harbouring clothes; it held essentials.

When they decided to take the risk and try to find one of those boats, to get down to the river, they had to pack. They needed clothes, bandages, the first aid box from their apartment, the little things they would have to take with them. And Eric's bag contained just a few of the things they had bought ready for their baby.

He packed nappies, onesies, pacifiers, bottles- they would have to raid any shops they could find for powdered milk if (Y/n) didn't want to breastfeed. And when they left the apartment, they had gone into a desolated chemist a block from what was once their home.

Eric had been as quiet and stealth as possible, raiding the shelves for a pair of sterilised, packaged scissors and a pack of needles and thread for when the baby was born and they would have to cut the cord. He found antiseptic wipes, lots of gauze, bandages, sterilising fluid, and of course he raided the back of the chemist for a variety of strong pain meds. Both for (Y/n) during and after the birth and as a stash in case either of them got injured and needed some pain relief.

They found what they would most likely need, and now they were on their way. Hoping to find any safe space to rest for the night before they continued in the morning to get to the boats or somewhere they could stay which would be safe.

(Y/n) began to glide her thumb up and down the back of Eric's arm while she leaned into his side. It was a relief that silence was something of a comfort to them both. Neither of them were the kind of people who had to fill the silence or felt awkward when no one was speaking; they wouldn't have lasted this long in this new world if that was the case.

The rain cascaded down on them like it was pouring its own sense of sorrow onto them as they headed down the deserted street.

Part of (Y/n) felt like they were being selfish. She knew they weren't, after all, this whole change in the world happened after (Y/n) got pregnant. It wasn't as if they had chosen to have a baby and bring a child into this terror. But it wasn't the world they thought they were bringing their child into.

This wasn't safe anymore. The world had never been perfect, but at least the threats hadn't been creatures from another place. Threats in their old world had been strange people or busy traffic or dark corners. Not predators that could hunt dozens of people at once and kill anything in its path.

But there was nothing they could do about this now except for survive. All they could do was try to survive, try to have this baby and give them a chance.

(Y/n) came out of her dwelling thoughts when she felt Eric's hand shift from her waist to suddenly latch around her upper arm. His grip was fierce and (Y/n) could feel his fingertips digging into her skin harsh enough to leave imprints in his wake.

Her eyes darted up to look at him, wondering why he had stopped walking and grabbed her like that. But Eric's free hand ever so slowly let go of the bag resting on his shoulder and his finger pressed against his lips. The movement would have been heartstopping if it hadn't been for the panic dwelling in Eric's eyes and the movement (Y/n) saw out the corner of her eye.

A creature.

There were creatures- more than one- hovering on the buildings across the road. They were scouring the streets, patrolling for victims, for anything that moved with sound which they could devour.

A subtle trembling set in (Y/n)'s system as she slithered her hand up to remove Eric's hand from her arm so she could tangle their fingers together. Their clammy palms pressed together like suction and when Eric started to move, (Y/n) carefully followed alongside him.

It was clear with each tentative step that Eric took that he wanted to run, he wanted to be fast and stealth, but he couldn't. He couldn't risk making a single sound and risking his family.

Neither of them had any idea where they were heading. They didn't know which direction to go, where would be safe and if there were any other creatures lurking around any corners.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what made her look, but as the pair of them did their strange little speed walk down the street, (Y/n) noticed something.

A church.

It looked like a beacon of hope to (Y/n)'s watering eyes. It was large, the building itself wasn't crumbling or broken or had a caved in roof or busted windows. It was structurally safe, unlike the other buildings in this area; most of the buildings in all of New York will have been destroyed by now. Maybe in the entire country, possibly even the whole world.

A church would be safe. It was a large space with multiple rooms and crevaces for them to stay. It was getting dark out, the daylight was starting to fade and they had to find somewhere safe to stay.

Shifting her free hand, (Y/n) pressed her palm against Eric's shoulder and nudged until he was aiming towards the left rather than straight ahead.

Confusion blared out in his eyes until he realised where she was trying to aim him and a flicker of relief swelled across his face.

A church; that would do as a safe space for now.

***

(Y/n) could feel a headache forming behind her eyes as she slowly trudged up and down in a small line that was beginning to wear a pattern into the stone floor.

She didn't know what to do with herself.

Before this, before all the chaos, whenever (Y/n) felt uncomfortable she would go and lie in the bath. Sometimes she would lie in bed with an old movie or tv show on in the background and a stack of pillows on the bed with her. She couldn't do that anymore. God, was she ever likely to have a bath again? The water would make too much of a noise, and it was near impossible to be silent getting in or out the tub. Bathing in whatever river or stream was nearby was going to be their future now.

Her fingers carded through her hair, brushing the strands out of her eyes as her other hand pressed against her lower back.

She took a moment to look around the church that had long since turned dark and was lit with whatever candles they could find in the basement and in the vacant storage room at the back. There were quite a few people seeking refuge here.

A few elderly people off in one corner. A young family huddled in the corner, fast asleep together despite the terror that awaited them outside. There were a few people dotted about in the pews, catching some sleep, praying, sitting and deliberating what to do. Overall there was less than twenty of them in here altogether but (Y/n) barely noticed their presence with how quiet everyone was becoming.

When her eyes danced across to her husband, a softness dwelled in her eyes and (Y/n) managed a smile.

Eric was laid on one of the pews, arms crossed over his chest and his jacket rolled up beneath his head to serve as a pillow. One leg was hanging off the bench with his foot pressing into the floor to stabilise himself and his other leg was laid out across the pew. He still looked tense, even in his sleep. Frown lines were woven into his temple and his lips were curved into a splintered grimace.

But at least he was getting some rest.

Once this baby was born, neither of them were going to be getting anymore sleep. They would have to take it in turns, one of them constantly watching over the baby to stop any cries before they happened. They were going to be exhausted and panicked and frightened and worn down, and (Y/n) had no idea how they were going to do any of this. If only this mayhem had happened a few months or years down the line instead of right now.

Turning her head, (Y/n) continued to walk up and down the small space she had acquired of about six feet that she kept pacing to give her something to do when sitting down didn't feel comfortable or possible anymore.

The one good thing about this silent situation was that no one was bothering to go near one another. If someone was ill or looked in need of help, then sure, people would filter round and try to do what they could. But without talking, people were simply staying in their acquired bubbles of space.

No one was trying to strike up a conversation with (Y/n), they weren't trying to talk using sign or writing on paper or charades. No one was bothering with her or Eric and that was a relief.

The headache raging behind (Y/n)'s eyes amplified ten fold and she fought back the urge to groan as her fingers pressed deeper into her temple in a vain attempt to fight off the uneasy feeling. But she could feel shockwaves coursing through her body when her stomach tightened.

Her head angled down as if in slow motion and her jaw hung loose when she felt a dampness between her thighs and trickling down her leggings.

Oh no.

This is what (Y/n) had been constantly panicking about since this whole event shook the world. She had been hoping that she would go into labour sometime next week on or after her due date. By then they might have found somewhere to stay, somewhere safe or even find themselves on a boat where they would at least be a bit more protected and shielded from these creatures.

Having a baby here, still in the centre of New York city, huddled in a church, wasn't (Y/n)'s ideal plan. But it looked like she didn't have much of a choice.

Her lips rolled together and her arms coiled around her waist, resting on her bump as she shuffled over towards the pew where Eric was laid asleep, unaware of the turmoil (Y/n) was about to unleash on him.

It took some effort for (Y/n) to manage to go down on her knees and she held her breath to try and regulate her system and control the rising panic that was coursing through her in waves. Once she was knelt on the stone floor that felt as cold as sitting on a frozen lake, (Y/n) moved one arm to rest on the bench and gently glided her other hand up and down Eric's chest.

She nudged the buttons on his shirt and moved his tie that was becoming looser and looser as the hours passed. She didn't want to frighten him awake and cause him to make any noise.

His body jolted and his head shot up, but he stayed as silent as the dead and his wide brown eyes darted to the right to look over at her.

One hand clamped down on the back of the pew and Eric moved his other hand to rummage up and down his face to try and brighten himself up and bring him back to his senses. He forced a gentle smile as he looked at his wife, but it didn't last long when he saw that she was biting down on her lower lip so harshly that she was drawing blood beneath her teeth.

His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer to (Y/n) until their noses were almost touching. His lips pursed and he shook his head to try and get her to mime something or move and point out what was wrong. He couldn't see anyone else in the church panicking so he figured no creatures were lurking to try and devour them. Yet.

Confusion stayed plastered across Eric's face, mingling with the worry lines still present but he stayed compliant when (Y/n) reached out for his hand. She moved his hand near her stomach before she seemed to realise that it wasn't going to give Eric much insight. So she pressed his palm down against her damp thigh instead.

Horror was the only thing (Y/n) could see swirling in her husband's eyes which expanded twice their usual size and his jaw dropped, parting those plump pink lips. Eric tried to shake his head but the look in (Y/n)'s eyes told him this wasn't a false alarm or a joke.

Her water had broken. She was going into labour.

She watched with panicked eyes as Eric carefully sat up and swung his legs over so he was sitting upright. But (Y/n) was taken by surprise when Eric leaned forward. One hand cupped the back of her head while the other held her arm, but it was the feeling of his lips merging with her temple which made (Y/n)'s heart race.

She could feel each shaky breath Eric took and how he tried his very best not to make a single sound, despite the very overwhelming need to cry or scream or do both at once.

They stayed like that for a while, with Eric hunched forward to curl around her and (Y/n)'s hands clutching his hips, holding him just as tightly as he was holding her. (Y/n) could feel Eric shifting his weight from his heels to his toes, clearly trying to concentrate on something so he didn't fall into a state of panicked despair.

And she stayed clinging to him when he changed stance so his left hand was cupping the back of her neck but his right hand was reaching out for something beside him on the bench. His cheek meshed against the top of her head, nuzzling into her hair while he found the notebook and pencil they had brought and began to scrawl a note.

'It's okay, we're safe here. I'll look after you.'

His words were comforting when he turned the page round so (Y/n) could see, and she nodded against him and clung to him that little bit tighter.

(Y/n) had never been worried about the pain. It didn't do well to worry about the excruciating pain she was going to be feeling in a matter of hours. She would do anything she had to in order to stay quiet, the pain wasn't the main issue. It was what would happen afterwards, how they would silence their baby without hurting or smothering them. It was how they would move forward with a newborn who needed to be silent which was worrying (Y/n) the most.

She turned to rest her cheek against Eric's thigh, nuzzling into him as she curved her arms tighter around his torso until her hands were splayed out on his back. Clinging to him and being close like this was comforting. It would help for now.

They had a long night ahead of them.

***

This was not how Eric imagined this wonderous, magical moment in his life playing out.

Not for one moment since (Y/n) became pregnant did Eric imagine it would be happening in this way. In a damp church that no one dared sigh in because churches were known to echo with high ceilings and little to no curtains. He didn't imagine to be his wife's birth partner, coach and midwife rolled into one.

He didn't think they would be doing this alone with no help and no way of even calling a midwife for assistance. Eric didn't even have his phone, he couldn't Google articles that might coach him through how to do this. They were completely and utterly alone with nowhere else to go.

Eric dreamt of this moment. He dreamt of going to hospital, of holding (Y/n)'s hand and crying and how it would feel to sit beside her and finally be able to hold their child in his arms. He dreamed of calling his parents in London and telling them the good news and whether he had a son or a daughter.

He didn't dare think about his parents; Eric had no way of knowing if the rest of his family back home were dead or alive, whether they were fighting to survive or if they had already been killed. And he wasn't likely to ever find out or go back home again. Home was going to have an entirely new meaning now.

Tilting his head down, Eric smothered his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head, inhaling the very faint scent of her raspberry shampoo which Eric guessed neither of them would be using very often anymore.

His elbows were pinned into (Y/n)'s waist, their hands were interlocked together in front of them and Eric had his chest moulded over (Y/n)'s back like he was a coat or a second layer of skin, trying to protect and shield her form the rest of the world.

Every now and then he brushed his thumbs across the back of her hands but he was trying hard to concentrate on being quiet and not humming. Whenever they would hug or dance in their apartment, Eric was usually the one to start humming and giving them their very own background music. Humming was something that he used to do all the time, it calmed him down and gave him a sense of focus. He couldn't do that anymore.

They had been pacing for a while now, Eric wasn't sure how long, he would roughly guess at about an hour because both of them had gone stiff sitting down for so long. And there wasn't much they could do to idle away the time.

Everyone else was trying to sleep or be on watch at the windows in case any creatures roamed the streets at night. Everyone inside the church had calmed down and fooled themselves into a false sense of security in here.

But Eric was on red alert. There was a countdown happening in the back of his mind to the moment when this whole situation would turn South and they would have to get to water, to safety, fast to ensure they and their baby survived.

When (Y/n)'s hands tightened around his and she stopped walking, Eric paused behind her, curving himself around her as he figured she was experiencing another contraction.

He watched as she moved their entwined hands to grab the tie that Eric had taken off earlier and draped around her own neck like some kind of slim scarf or strange piece of jewellery. He watched (Y/n) pull on the tie until it was between her teeth and she chomped down so hard he was sure she would fray and split the fabric.

That was why he had given it to her. He knew that being silent in such an ordeal with such pain was going to be incredibly hard for his wife, and Eric hated that there was very little he could do about that. So he gave her his tie to bite down on and clench between her teeth in the vain hope that it might give her some small sense of relief.

And whenever (Y/n) told him the pain was too much, Eric would give her some of the medication he had tucked away in his bag from raiding the chemist earlier in the day. He had found some powerful drugs in that chemist for this exact situation.

As carefully as he could, Eric moved their entwined hands so his left arm was bound around (Y/n)'s waist and his right hand moved to cup her chin. He tilted her head towards the right so he could lean around and pepper a few tender kisses to her cheek.

When the contraction wore off, Eric moved to hover his lips over (Y/n)'s ear which caused shivers to jolt through her system and vibrate into him.

"Are you doing okay?" Eric spoke at the lowest possible decimal he could until his words were nothing but a breath of air that could hardly be heard by (Y/n), let alone anyone else in the church or out in the world.

He watched the way (Y/n) released the tie so it hung limp around her neck again and rolled her lips together. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back against his shoulder after she managed to nod. She was doing as well as she could in this situation.

Their conjoined hands moved so (Y/n) could point to the pews and Eric nodded into her shoulder and neck.

She wanted to sit down now, lest Eric wanted to stand and hold her weight up for her. They had been standing for long enough and (Y/n) wasn't sure she held the energy to stay upright any longer.

She felt much better when Eric helped ease her back down on the bench and when he sat beside her, he curved his right arm around her waist and kept their left hands tangled together on her lap. Eric was relieved to sit down too. He was drained and he needed to stock up on his energy and hope adrenaline would see him through for when the baby was born.

For a few moments, Eric tilted his head down and attached his lips to (Y/n)'s shoulder. They stayed like that until Eric lifted his head when (Y/n) bowed hers. Her chin tucked down into her neck and Eric took to kissing the back of her head to try and help keep her calm.

Eric glanced his eyes around the open space while his right hand began to feather up and down (Y/n)'s waist. He tried to take in the sight of the other people seeking refuge here, wondering what their lives had been like before this mess ensnared them all in here together. Wondering if they were missing family members, if they were looking for people or if they were simply on an aimless mission like them.

He stopped pondering those kind of thoughts when he noticed an older gentleman sat on the opposite bench from them on the other side of the aisle was staring at them.

He looked to be in his fifties if Eric had to guess. Salt and pepper hair, a beard that was all fading to grey, but it was his piercing eyes that set Eric on edge.

The man was glaring at them with a look that Eric couldn't decipher, those beady eyes set upon the couple while the man's lips and nose were scrunched up into a confused sort of frown.

Eric stared over at him, keeping his gaze as he waited for the man to make some kind of action or mouth something to signal why he was staring at them so intently. Did he want something? Was something wrong? Did he think he recognised them from somewhere?

Suddenly, the man broke their gaze and hunched forward to reach for a scrap of paper and a bit of chalk.

'In labour?'

Unease set in Eric's features which hardened to stone, but he nodded all the same. There was no point denying it. There was a couple at the back of the church near the hymn board who kept looking at them and the woman had such a sympathetic smile that made Eric want to cry. She could see that (Y/n) was in labour and Eric guessed that if they could speak without fear of being detected, she would have tried to strike up a conversation with them or even sat with them to help.

He watched the gentleman start scribbling again, but when he held the page up for Eric to see, his chest hardened and anger seethed through every vessel in his body.

'Get out!'

(Y/n) glanced from Eric to the man sitting across from them, suddenly wondering what had caused her husband to start to breathe like he was stopping himself from turning into the Hulk. His chest was tense and practically heaving and his nostrils were flaring, but there was a maddening look in his eyes that (Y/n) had never seen before. And his eyes were locked on the man across from them.

The words on the page made (Y/n)'s heart seize up and caused her chest to convulse.

Her head turned to look behind her towards Eric, eyes wide and body shaking as a bewildered expression flooded her face. Now she was frightened- no, she was petrified.

If that man was telling them to leave, then what would stop everyone else in here from doing the same?

What if they started a silent uproar? What if all of the couples and families and desolate strangers in here tried to get them to leave? They could combine into one big gang, they could crowd and push and shove until Eric and (Y/n) were ushered out onto the street. And what would the couple do then?

(Y/n) couldn't have this baby in the street, they had to be somewhere safe, somewhere enclosed and indoors and with a bit of protection.

But no one else had seemed disgruntled. They had all seen that (Y/n) was pregnant, there was no missing that little piece of information and although the couple gained sympathetic looks, no one seemed to object. They couldn't help that they were having a baby while this apocalypse had occurred. It was fate. They needed help, not to be shunned out.

Moving his arm from resting on the back of the bench, Eric brushed his fingers against (Y/n)'s cheek and tilted her head so she was looking at him rather than that silly old fool. He attached his lips to her cheek and inched closer to her, huddling her close into his chest.

They didn't have to look and see that fool try to argue with them. They had every right to be in here and Eric wouldn't let that man upset (Y/n) when she was clearly distressed enough as it was.

For a few minutes, (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against Eric's chest. She let go of his hand in favour of holding his thigh and she felt each breath he took fanning against her hair. They both did their best to stay tangled together and resist the urge to look across at the man that Eric felt a great deal of distain for even though he had barely interacted with him and knew nothing about him.

But if he was willing to try and sacrifice a pregnant woman out on the street for his own survival, then Eric didn't want to know him. No one would be able to survive in this world on their own, people needed a community, help, they would need others to help get them through this. He wasn't going to last very long out there on his own.

Eric tried, he really tried not to look, but when the man began to wave his arms and flap his hands out to get his attention, he gave in. Eric gave in and turned to see what he wanted now. He was holding up another page.

'You're putting us all in danger. Babies make noise, that thing will kill us all.'

Outrage roared to life in Eric's chest that began to heave and blunder again. He had a sickening feeling that the man across from them was referring to the baby, not one of the creatures outside and that thought was riling up every one of Eric's otherwise passive nerves in his body.

If that man didn't like his odds being around a baby then he could go and find somewhere else to stay. There were kids in here, older people, young people. Any one of them could cough or belch or fall or sneeze and make a noise, no one was exempt. Yes, a baby was more of a risk than everyone else but that didn't mean that it was fair to cast them out.

Shakes rattled through Eric and his hands clenched into fists as he pushed up from the bench. But before he took one step, he faltered when (Y/n) deadlocked both hands around his arm and yanked his arm towards her chest.

She could see that he wanted to scream and shout and rage but it wasn't going to do them any good. The rage inside Eric started to simmer down and mingle with heartache when he looked down at his wife. She was frightened enough as it was, starting a silent argument or a fight wasn't going to make the situation any better.

With a curt nod of his head, Eric sank back down on the bench and grabbed the notebook and pencil that they had brought along with them. He flipped to a clean page and hastily began to scrawl his response to the vile man who he now hated with vengeance.

'You were coughing earlier, that could kill us all.'

The menacing tone inside Eric's head might just have been projected into the man's mind, for he shrank back in his seat as if he had been slapped. And Eric triumphed inwardly while he began to write another message while he had the chance and the words rattling around in his head.

'Our baby deserves a chance. Church is sanctuary. You can't play God in here, don't like it, move to new haven.'

This church wasn't a forever solution for any of them. None of them were likely to stay here and live out their days in this church. They would all move on, they would find somewhere safer, somewhere better where they could live. Or they would each keep moving from place to place, hopelessly wandering for the rest of their (probably short) lives.

Everyone in this church would venture out into the streets, into the world, sooner or later. They would need to go for supplies, for food and water and clothing and bandages and medicines and to try and find somewhere to wash and get clean. No one was hybernating in here for the rest of their lives.

Eric and (Y/n) being here wasn't making much of a difference and if this man didn't like them being here then he could go and find a new place for himself. Why should they be the ones to leave when right now they hadn't done anything to put anyone in jeopardy?

'Baby is a big risk.'

The man had a deep frown engraved into his features, but his anger began to dwindle little by little when he looked from Eric to (Y/n). Agony was displayed on her face and she was mouthing 'please'. Whether she was asking him to relent in arguing or to let them stay, he couldn't be sure.

But he seemed to wince and visibly cringe, his expression turning hollow when he watched (Y/n) motion to her stomach before she tried to point towards the doors.

She couldn't give birth outside. It would be suicide.

Was he really going to try and evict them when he didn't have that right? Did he truly want them to find some deserted building with no source of heat or light or supplies and face giving birth in those conditions? Or did he want (Y/n) to sit out on the street to have her baby and become a beacon for these creatures to come and snatch them up?

The man wouldn't meet (Y/n)'s gaze, but he looked towards Eric when he waved another piece of paper towards him.

'Creature comes, I'll scream and distract to protect them.'

Eric would sacrifice himself if necessary. He would make a noise and divert the creatures to him if it would give (Y/n) and their baby a chance at getting away and being alive. Eric would make a noise and give everyone in this church the time to escape. He would do anything he had to for his family.

And those words seemed to silence the elder man because he nodded. For how could he argue with that?

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes when she watched Eric slide the notepad down next to him on the bench and she caught sight of what he had written. It wouldn't come to that. She wouldn't allow it. (Y/n) wouldn't be able to get through this world without Eric, she couldn't try and keep their baby alive without him.

Eric's arms went right back to cocooning around (Y/n) when another contraction hit and they moulded together like they were both trying to smother their cries. He began to sway them from side to side, wishing and praying that he could take the pain and endure it for her, but there was nothing he could do.

His arms went rigid around (Y/n)'s frame and his chest tensed and tightened when he watched a woman walk towards them. She had smiled kindly at them earlier and kept giving them sympathetic looks, but Eric didn't trust anyone in here. Not after the strange, infuriating conversation he'd just had with that man.

This woman could be coming over to gently try and coax them to leave, to tell them that staying wouldn't be in their best interests and for everyone's sake, they should go. But something about the softness in her eyes told Eric that she wasn't going to do that.

Her eyes softened as she gazed upon them and she crouched down beside them, gently patting (Y/n)'s knee in the process.

The couple watched her with uncertainty and intrigue and Eric nodded when she motioned to the pencil and notepad, politely asking if she could write them a message.

'Basement/ catacombs, go down. Thick walls underground, safer for baby.'

Once she laid the notepad on (Y/n)'s lap, she twisted to point behind her towards the small doorway in the left hand corner at the back of the church.

There was a basement beneath them down the stairs behind that door. The walls were made of old, thick stone and if all the doors were closed, the couple would effectively be sectioned off down there. It would be safer for them. The baby might just be able to make whimpers and little cries without drawing the attention of the creatures. And in the very least, they would be hidden away and in private without anyone around to leer or stare or try and intervene.

It was their best chance.

Relief swarmed through Eric's body which almost flagged against (Y/n) who wavered and couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her face. This lady was giving them a chance. She was trying to help them, she wasn't going to have a go at them or argue or try and usher them out onto the street.

When the woman stood up again and held her hands out in front of her, (Y/n) took the hint. She shakily took the elder woman's hands while she felt Eric holding onto her waist as he stood up with her, moving to be behind her with his chest curved around her back just in case she stumbled or a contraction hit and she needed some support.

Eric took his time putting both their backpacks on each shoulder, not wanting to rattle any of the medication or scissors in case he made a sound. And the three of them walked in tandem, the stranger leading the way with a clear understanding of the church that she must have frequented a lot before today to know the layout like she did.

She walked backwards, ushering the couple along with her and started to guide them down the winding stone steps that were frozen cold against all of their feet. Considering none of them were wearing shoes and were only in their socks.

They took it slow, trying their best not to slip or trip or get too far ahead of themselves. Once they were back on solid ground, the lady opened an old wooden door with precision, but she didn't open it all the way which Eric guessed was in case the hinges creaked.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but this was far better. A large expansive room rather like a cellar with boxes upon boxes of relics, books, donation boxes no longer in use. And candles. A whole bunch of candles. Just what they needed when the room was basked in darkness, with the only slither of light coming from the stairway out in the hall.

While the lady helped (Y/n) to sit down on a blanket she found in the corner, Eric carefully set the bags down and found the lighter he had stuffed in there. He made quick work of lighting as many candles as he could and dotted them around the rather cold room. But the cool air was soothing, both of them were burning up with panic so this temperature would help them both.

It seemed and felt safe enough to whisper down here, so the woman took her chances. "You should be okay to make some small noise down here, I'll make sure all the doors are closed. If you need anything, come find me. Good luck."

"Thank you." Sincerity flooded Eric's voice that was on the verge of breaking from both the tears clogging his eyes and the fact that he was still whispering which made his throat feel strange.

Once the doors were silently closed and the couple were encased in their own sense of privacy, (Y/n) slouched back against the wall and looked across at Eric who was sat cross legged near her feet.

"This is it." There was no turning back now.

***

Everything was laid out ready from the blanket beside Eric's thigh to the scissors, still packaged and sterilised. Needle and thread was laid out in preparation, a packet of painkillers was opened next to a bottle of water and sterilising fluid was set out in the corner.

Everything was ready and prepared, except for them.

(Y/n) had done her best to stay quiet. She had writhed from side to side, bit down on Eric's tie so harshly she had torn through the fabric and left teeth marks woven into the thread. She bit on her tongue, held her breath until she almost passed out, scraped her knuckles against the stone floor until they started to shred and bleed. She did everything in her power to only let out the quietest moans and whimpers possible.

All while watching every emotion possible cross Eric's face in a blunder. He had gone from panicked to excited to turmoil and then unfiltered horror and anxiety, all in a circle that kept going round and around.

But now it was happening. There was no going back, no second guessing themselves or their vague plan and there was nothing they could do anymore but push forward and hope for the best.

She heard Eric's quiet murmur of "Nearly there," and the bewilderment in his voice as he grabbed the blanket and laid it over his hands that were now in between (Y/n)'s legs in preparation.

He inched closer, wide eyes bubbling with tears and excitement and panic as his knees scraped against the floor and his feet fidgeted behind him. Eric pressed his chest down into his knees and leaned in closer until each breath he took made his chest ache and push down against his thighs.

"That's it, push again sweetheart."

Eric found that he himself could barely breathe when his hands started to curve around their baby. God, he hoped they would be okay and he wouldn't have to try and clear their airways or check for a pulse. He hoped they wouldn't start screaming immediately or be too loud.

Please don't be a fussy baby! Please be content and soothed immediately!

"It- it's a girl, s-she's here."

Trembling took over Eric's system almost as bad as how (Y/n) was shaking back and forth against the wall. Their baby was here. He was holding their daughter. Their long-awaited baby was here, in the midst of this changing, horrifying world.

Stars sparkled before (Y/n)'s eyes and she let her head drop back against the wall as her legs shakily moved and her heels slid down against the stone floor until her legs were splayed out on either side of Eric's thighs. Caging him between her legs like he had been caught in a trap.

Her hands pressed down into the floor to try and prop herself up and ragged, heaving breaths left her lips as the acute pain switched to thunderous pulses and shockwaves instead.

(Y/n) couldn't tear her eyes away from Eric, despite how she could barely see him properly. She tried to clear her fuzzy vision and watch her husband who moved with agility and haste.

She wasn't quite sure what he was fumbling around to try and do, not until the moment their daughter began to whimper. As soon as one noise left her lips, Eric moved her and (Y/n) was stunned. He had undone the buttons on his rather dirty, messed up shirt which was now hanging off his shoulders, exposing his chest and abdomen.

He curled the blanket around their daughter before quickly pressing her into his bare chest. His lips smothered the top of her head and he began to hush her, trying to keep her as close as possible without smothering her. And the way he leant forward and curled around her, embracing her fully, made (Y/n)'s heart melt.

He was trying skin contact. He was trying to get their baby to sense him and recognise that she was safe. He wanted her to mellow and settle and this was the quickest way he could think to do it.

His hands cradled the back of her head and her bum and he started rocking ever so slightly while he felt each whimper his daughter mewled into his warm chest. And the moment she stopped, Eric froze like a block of ice and his nose nudged against her head, fearing for a dreaded moment that he may have hurt or even suffocated her.

But the feeling of her hand bashing against his chest and her lips puckering and moving against his chest made Eric's lips curve into a wide, breathless smile.

She had settled. He'd done it. She wasn't crying yet.

(Y/n) slouched her shoulders back against the wall so she could lift her hands from the floor and reach out when Eric shuffled closer to her side. He tried his best not to move too much or too far, knowing the cord was still connected. And when he cautiously lowered their daughter from his chest, (Y/n) moved her own shirt so she could take his place and have their daughter curled up into her own chest this time.

"She's here," Those words seemed to be the only ones Eric could fathom at the moment as his hand enveloped over (Y/n)'s and his other hand cupped the back of her head so he could lean down and kiss her.

He would cut the cord in a little while, that could wait a minute or two. Right now, he needed his heart rate to settle and to have his girls wrapped up in his arms. His lips moved to attach to (Y/n)'s cheek, feeling each deep breath she took fan against his throat as he leaned into and around her like a blanket cocooning around his girls.

They had done it. They had gotten through labour and brought their daughter safely into the world without posing a risk or drawing the creatures towards them.

But the hard part wasn't over yet; it had only just begun.

#eric imagine #eric x reader #imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn #a quiet place day 1 #a quiet place imagine #a quiet place eric #a quiet place day one

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