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ijustwannabecool · 16 hours ago

Note

Please do a vogue beauty secrets with all the boys! Especially Lewis, feel like he would definitely get involved with the skincare! Love your work ☺️

VOGUE BEAUTY SECRETS: Y/N HAMILTON’S DATE NIGHT SKINCARE & MAKEUP ROUTINE

Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader

Summary… Set during Paris Fashion Week, this story follows Y/N as she films her long-awaited Beauty Secrets video for Vogue.

A/N: This was so so so much fun to write. Thank you for the support and the request. Keep them coming (: Let me know what you thought of the story.

Comment to be added to the tag list 🫶

Requests open!

Donate a coke zero?!

Like, Comment, Reblog, Enjoy!!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The camera opens on the kind of bathroom that feels more like a love letter than a room; powder blue cabinets trimmed in gold, marble counters flecked with rose quartz, and soft light spilling from a crystal chandelier above. A clawfoot tub sits nestled behind sheer, floating curtains, and cherry blossoms bloom in a glass vase on the vanity, casting a reflection like watercolor in the mirror.

Then, a voice: warm, calm, amused. “Hi, Vogue.”

Y/N steps into frame in a cream silk robe, the initials Y/N.H. embroidered on the pocket in tiny cursive gold. Her hair is loosely clipped back, and her skin, bare and dewy, catches the light like she’s already halfway through the glow-up. Her eyes are soft with excitement, her smile warm and playful.

“We’re here just outside Paris for Fashion Week,” she begins, her voice low and sweet, almost like a secret. “Lewis and I wanted to enjoy the week but still have some peace and quiet, so we booked a little hotel tucked into the countryside.”

She glances behind her, then back to the camera.

“And since Vogue reached out months ago about doing a Beauty Secrets, we figured, what better time?” She grins, cheeks dimpling. “It’s date night tonight, and more importantly, it’s our anniversary.”

As she walks toward the vanity, the camera follows her with a soft pan, giving a better look at the robe, custom clearly, and matching the one that appears a moment later when the bathroom door eases open with a soft creak.

In walks Lewis, hair freshly braided, skin clean and glowing from the post-shower steam. He’s barefoot, wearing a matching silk robe, L.H. stitched in identical golden script. And right behind him, tongue out and tail wagging, comes Roscoe, happily trotting into the room like he owns it.

“Hi,” Lewis says simply, blinking at the camera like it’s just another guest in the house.

Y/N snorts. “You weren’t supposed to be in here yet.”

“Roscoe didn’t get the memo,” Lewis murmurs, dropping a hand to his dog’s back as Roscoe pads over to sniff the cherry blossoms.

Y/N gives him a long look. “You might as well stay now. But no beard grooming in my segment.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow. “That’s half my routine.”

“I rest my case.”

He smiles, brushing a kiss against her shoulder as he passes behind her toward the second sink. Roscoe settles at Y/N’s feet, yawning, as she turns back to the camera.

“Okay. So. Skincare.”

She begins by dampening her face with warm water and talking through her cleanser, the bottle bearing a sleek white and silver logo: Hamilton Skin.

“We actually started our own skincare line a couple years ago,” she says, massaging the foam across her cheeks. “Lewis and I bonded over this stuff when we first met. He had better skin than me at the time and wouldn’t stop bragging.”

“I did not brag,” Lewis calls from behind his hand towel.

“You still brag,” she corrects, laughing.

The camera pans slightly to catch Lewis washing his face beside her. Their movements are mirror images, like a practiced dance. No bumps, no crowding. Just an unspoken rhythm, like they’ve done this a thousand times.

Y/N finishes rinsing and reaches for her toner, patting it gently into her skin.

“This one’s my favorite, hydrating but light. Smells kind of like cucumber and sunshine.”

She turns toward Lewis and nudges the bottle in his direction.

“You’re still getting used to toner, right?”

“I’ve used this one before,” he replies, already reaching for a cotton pad.

She grins. “Progress.”

He doesn’t say much more, doesn’t need to. He works quietly, respectfully, giving Y/N space to explain her serums, one by one, to the camera. But when she starts chatting about peptides and forgets to finish blending in her moisturizer, Lewis notices.

Without a word, he steps closer, fingers soft as he smooths the cream into her temple and under her jaw. She flutters her lashes once, not startled, just a little caught and smiles to herself as she continues speaking.

“You’ll notice I go for glow,” she says. “I like to look like I’ve been kissed by the golden hour.”

Beside her, Lewis taps on his own under-eye serum, then runs a comb through his beard with such focus that Y/N side-eyes him through the mirror.

“Told you. Beard takes longer than the rest of his face.”

“Precision,” he says again.

“You’re trimming invisible hairs.”

“Still counts.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. The camera lingers on them in the mirror, the intimacy of two people who are completely at ease with each other. Every glance is a conversation. Every silence is full.

She moves on to her makeup. Nothing heavy, just a radiant base, a little warmth on her cheeks, a soft brush of highlighter. Her voice lowers like she’s telling a secret.

“I always go a little minimal when it’s just us. Just enough to feel elegant. Lewis loves when I keep it simple.”

“I love everything,” he murmurs behind her.

She swats at him playfully with a makeup sponge.

As she reaches for her lip liner, Lewis leans against the counter, arms crossed, and watches her.

“Hey.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Do the red. From our first date.”

She pauses, looking up through the mirror. There’s a flicker of emotion that passes between them, quick but powerful.

“You remember that shade?”

“Of course I do,” he says, voice softer than before. “You wore it with that black dress. I couldn’t look away.”

Y/N bites her lip. Opens a drawer. Pulls out a small gold tube.

She applies it slowly, carefully, layering the red with precision. It’s bold, it’s timeless and somehow still manages to look like her.

“Happy anniversary,” she says, turning toward him.

Lewis steps forward, cupping her jaw as he looks down at her lips, then back into her eyes. “You look the same. Still got me weak.”

Off-camera, Roscoe gives a little sneeze, shaking his head like he’s had enough of the romance.

Y/N laughs, gently scratching his ears. “We’re almost done, buddy.”

A baby’s squeal echoes in the background, light and sudden.

Then the door opens again, and in crawls little Sofia, in a soft cream knit onesie, babbling happily as she finds Roscoe and grabs a handful of fur. Behind her is Lewis’s mum, smiling as she scoops the baby up with practiced ease.

“Perfect timing,” Y/N murmurs. She lifts her daughter into her lap, careful not to smudge her lipstick, and turns to the camera one last time.

“Well,” she says, “that’s the routine. Thanks for getting ready with me, Vogue.”

—————

CUT TO: A final clip, via Vogue's TikTok.

Y/N and Lewis, now fully dressed and standing in front of a wide hotel mirror. Her cream two-piece glimmers with subtle beadwork. His suit: black, structured, paired with a soft gray turtleneck and silver chain, matches perfectly.

“Outfit check!” Y/N announces, phone in hand as she records their reflection.

Lewis lifts a brow. “You’re still trying to make me do this?”

“Yes. And it’s working.”

He sighs but turns slowly. “Fine. One time. For the people.”

Roscoe trots into the frame and sits at their feet like a little prince.

Sofia giggles in the background.

The video ends not with a tagline or a pitch, but a final still: the Hamiltons in the mirror, laughing, glowing, wrapped in love and red lipstick and ready to go on their date.

————

🧼💄 Comment Section Under: “Y/N Hamilton’s Date Night Skincare & Makeup Routine | Vogue Beauty Secrets”

💬 @bby-lve

“lewis doing skincare in the background like a respectful king while also blending HER moisturizer for her… this is love in motion 😭”

💬 @devilacot

“the red lipstick story? him remembering the exact shade?? 10 years later??? i’m crying in single”

💬 @angelluv16

“roscoe casually strolling in like the family pet and the director of vibes”

💬 @angstynasty

“Y/N teasing him about beard grooming while he’s meticulously trimming invisible hairs… this is marriage content”

💬 @hisashifrey

“no but can we TALK about their skincare line actually being legit??? my skin has never looked better and i say that with my chest”

💬 @mynameisangeloflife

“me: crying at how gentle lewis was while fixing her moisturizer also me: crying harder when sofia crawled in with lewis’s mum at the end 🥹🥹🥹”

💬 @evalynkillgrave

“the matching robes… the mirrored routine… the lip color callback… this wasn’t a beauty video this was a LOVE STORY”

💬 @vogue

“Can we make a couple’s edition next time? 👀 asking for everyone”

💬 @veganluxegirl

“them plugging their vegan, cruelty-free skincare like it’s NBD when they’re literally changing the industry 💅”

💬 @lorena-mv33

“roscoe, the baby, the grandma, the robe embroidery, the mirror scene... they’re not real people they’re a soft fiction novel”

💬 @frenchtwistedd

“why did this video make me want to marry, have a baby, start a business, and wash my face twice a day… they’re too powerful”

💬 @baechugff

“i’m sorry but lewis saying ‘you made me late to my own event’ with the SOFTEST eyes???? no one is doing it like them”

244 notes · View notes

keeryhours · 3 days ago

Text

we are never getting back together - chapter one

Masterlist Series Masterlist Tag Lists

Eddie Munson x ex wife!reader

Summary:

You drop your kids off with your ex husband, and think back on your life together.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, birth, drinking, drug use (weed), suggestive content, divorce

Word Count: 7k

A/N:

I’m so happy to be back and posting the first chapter of this series! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much @feral4youu for all your help, ily ❤️

“It’s my weekend.”

You rolled your eyes over the phone. “I understand that, Eddie. Believe me, you’ve said it enough times. I’m just saying-“

“You’re trying to take 3 hours away from me.”

You had a headache coming on. You pressed your manicured fingers against your temple. “I’m not trying to take anything from you. You’re being difficult on purpose.”

“Then you should schedule your shit for your own time!”

“It’s a dentist appointment, and it’s the earliest day they had!” You threw your arm up in the air as you spoke, as if he could see you. “Do you even hear yourself right now? I’m not asking for fun, she needs to go to the dentist.”

“Why can’t I take her?”

“Uh, would you remember?” you scoffed.

“That was one time.”

“Sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Look, Ed. It’s kinda non-negotiable. She has to go. We can meet at 6 instead of 3.”

“Whatever.” Silence, nothing but the crackling of the phone line. “Okay. Whatever. I’ll see you at 6.”

Click.

You sighed, putting the phone back down on the receiver. Eddie could seriously be such a pain in the ass. No, scratch that, not could be - he was.

You didn’t always fight like this. At one point, you were just two high school students in love - puppy love, maybe. First love, lust at first sight, whatever you wanted to call it, you were head over heels for each other.

A positive pregnancy test at the beginning of your senior year, when you were 17 and Eddie was 19, threw everything off balance. Before, everyone knew you and Eddie would graduate and get married. They knew you were the kind of high school sweethearts that would lead to marriage - even if you didn’t make it in the end. But a pregnancy sped everything up - way too fast.

Your parents had been furious, of course. They never approved of Eddie in the first place, thinking he was beneath you. He lived in a trailer park, he wore thrifted clothes, he repeated his senior year twice and sold drugs in the clearing behind the school. You’d heard it all before.

It didn’t stop you from loving Eddie.

You found out you were pregnant on your own. By yourself, in the silence of your bathroom while home alone, you took the test, saw the results, and cried yourself to sleep on the tile floor. You just knew Eddie was gonna run. Your parents were gonna kick you out and Eddie was gonna run and your friends were gonna abandon you, you’d be having a baby all on your own, being a single mom, working to take care of a baby-

Your spiraling turned out to all be for nothing, because your parents didn’t kick you out and Eddie didn’t leave you. That didn’t mean the news was taken well, however.

You told Eddie after school, in the theater room before Hellfire. Eddie was surprised when he looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw you walking in. You weren’t usually interested in D&D, you thought Hellfire Club meetings were boring and hated having to wait for Eddie when campaign days and date nights lined up.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, a hint of confusion in his voice. “What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?” You were getting straight to the point, wringing your hands together and avoiding eye contact. You crossed your arms, uncrossed them, then crossed them again.

“Now?” Eddie asked, looking around the room, at the table completely set up for the campaign. “The guys are gonna be here any second-“

“I know,” you said, looking down at your feet. You were losing your resolve. “I just- it needs to be now. I need to talk to you now.”

“Is everything okay?” He pulled out a chair for you, then sat on the edge of his throne, leaning forward on his knees. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Yeah, well.” You let out a long breath. “Not really. I, uh…I have something I need to tell you.”

“Okay, now you’re really freaking me out,” he said. His eyebrows drew together, looking at you with obvious concern.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” you said, looking around. “Why are there no windows in here?”

Eddie looked around, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just…” You were sweating, avoiding eye contact. “It’s hot in here, is all.”

“I…feel like you’re stalling,” Eddie said, focusing back on you. You couldn’t escape his attention now. “Just tell me what’s going on, please.”

You looked down at your trembling hands. “Eddie, I…” It felt like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, shrinking under Eddie’s gaze. You knew nothing would be the same after you said your next words. “I’m pregnant.”

It felt like time had stopped. Eddie’s throat closed up as panic set in - his skin felt ice cold. Then, he let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I- how? How could this fucking happen?” he asked. He rubbed his palm over his chest, as if he were physically pained. “How- when?”

“I just found out a couple days ago,” you said. You wanted to run, hide, as far away from this conversation and reality as possible. This wasn’t going well, you could already feel it. “I think I’m like- like 6 weeks, or something. I think it was…that night in your van.”

You could see Eddie mentally going back, thinking back to that night, replaying every second of it in his head. When the sickening realization passed over his face, you could see it. “We didn’t use a condom.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t hold eye contact with him, not even for a second. Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you continued. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do, Eddie.”

“Yeah, me fucking either,” he scoffed. He crossed his arms over his stomach, hunching over, like he might be sick. You knew what was running through his head, because it was the same thing that had been in yours. I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve ruined my life. I’ve ruined both of our lives. I’ve ruined everything. His body felt heavy.

“Are you…” You swallowed. “Are you going to stick around?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to your face. “Of course I am. I’m not gonna leave you on your own.”

You nodded. That was good. This wasn’t going quite as badly as you’d feared. “What are we going to do?”

“I just said I don’t fucking know!” Eddie snapped, throwing his arms out wide. He slammed his fist on the table, knocking over a bunch of figurines, and you flinched - you hadn’t been expecting it. You could see the instant regret on his face.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to lose control like that,” he said. He tried to rein in his emotions, desperately trying not to take out his fear and anger on you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly.

“It’s not,” he said. “You’re going through this too. How…how do you feel?”

A strangled sounding laugh tumbled from your lips. “Just great.”

“I’m being serious,” Eddie said. “I mean, this is…this is…”

“A total disaster?” you supplied. Eddie nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. I know.”

“Have you thought about it?” he asked. “What you want to do?”

“Like if I want to…keep it?”

Eddie nodded. He clenched his jaw, preparing for your response.

You nodded your head quickly. “Yeah. I mean, that’s the only thing I do know. I don’t think I can get rid of it. I mean…it’s ours.”

He dropped his head forward. He was hunched over, buried into himself. He cursed under his breath - he knew you and he knew you’d say that, but he had still been hoping for something different. For you to say you wanted an abortion - that’s what Eddie would have chosen. He felt like he couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs.

His mind immediately jumped to the future - what that would look like. He pictured his life over, no more fun, no more D&D or Corroded Coffin or weed or anything. Dead end job he hates just to take care of the baby. His relationship with you taking a nosedive. He stretched his hands out wide and balled them into fists, over and over.

“It’s fine, it’s gonna be fine,” you said, mostly to yourself. “We’re gonna be okay. Everything is gonna be alright.”

“Should we…” he began, but startled you when he abruptly stood, the throne scraping loudly against the floor as it was pushed back. He started pacing, back and forth in front of you as he raked his hands through his curls. “I don’t know, do we have to…should we get married?”

Your mouth fell open, staring at Eddie incredulously. Had he really just suggested you get married? “Do you…want to marry me?”

“Of course I do,” he said easily. “I just…I imagined it being in the future, y’know? Not right now. It’s not…we’re not ready. We haven’t even lived yet, you know?”

“I know.”

“But…the, uh…” Eddie stopped moving, cleared his throat. “The baby. Should we get married for the baby?”

You turned his words over in your mind. You knew it would be best for the baby if you were together. But did you really want Eddie to marry you only because he felt like he had to? “I mean,” you started, “we could. But we don’t…if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but baby,” he said, coming back over to sit in front of you again. “You know how people are gonna talk. I don’t care, I’m used to it. But I know you care.”

It was true. You weren’t particularly concerned with popularity and social hierarchy, but you did care what people said about you. You didn’t want to be talked about like trash all over town. And that’s exactly what would happen. “People are gonna say all kinds of shit.”

“Yeah. They are.” Eddie looked at you. “But that’s why we’re gonna go to the courthouse and get married. Like, this weekend.”

“Eddie- what?” Your lips parted, drawing in a quick gasp. “Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious,” he said. He grasped your hands in his larger ones. “That’s the only way. We have to get married so people don’t know you were pregnant first. Or everyone’s going to…they’re gonna call you a whore, they’re gonna say you’re easy. I’m not gonna let anyone talk about you that way.”

“Eddie…” Tears brimmed in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you tried to find the words. “How would we- how do we explain why we got married so suddenly?”

“Just couldn’t wait anymore,” Eddie said, grinning. “Too in love. Had to get married immediately, couldn’t be put off for another second.”

Soft laughter bubbled up from deep inside, pulled from you unwillingly by Eddie’s words. “Really? You want to elope?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Let’s do it. Let’s fuckin’ elope.”

You told your parents the next day. That went…worse. A good hour of lectures, yelling, and crying later, they agreed it was best for you and Eddie to get married. They didn’t approve of him, not by a long shot, but having you single and pregnant at 17 was worse.

Eddie was the most scared to tell Wayne. He knew his uncle was going to be disappointed in him, and that was the worst thing he could think of. He cared so much about Wayne, the idea of letting him down made his stomach sink.

You had cooked a dinner for Wayne and Eddie, something to sit down and eat together before Wayne went to work so you could break the news. One delicious lasagna later and you were sitting the dish down in front of a confused Wayne and a terrified Eddie.

“So…” Eddie started about halfway through an awkwardly silent dinner - you were letting him take the lead and he was just now working up the courage to speak. Wayne looked up at him, his mouth full of lasagna. “There was something I…we…wanted to talk to you about.”

Wayne swallowed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He was scared of whatever Eddie was about to say, it was written across his face. “Yeah? What’s goin’ on?”

“We, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, looking at you then back at Wayne. “We just, uh, have some news.”

You were pretty sure Wayne knew what you were about to say from that moment, from the sick feeling that crossed his face. “What is it?”

Silence. Eddie pushed his food around his plate. “We…so, we’re…” A heavy sigh. “We’re…having a baby.”

Wayne just stared at the two of you. Then, he let out a long, weary sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Ed…”

“I know,” Eddie said. “I know.” He had promised not to end up this way. He had promised not to throw his life away. He had promised to live a life that put respect on the Munson name. He didn’t do any of those things.

“What the hell are you gonna do?” Wayne asked. He didn’t say it like he was mad. He wasn’t mad - not really. Just disappointed, and scared shitless for his nephew.

You and Eddie glanced at each other. “We’re, ah, gonna get married. This weekend.”

“Getting married?” Wayne practically choked. “Ed, are you sure-“

“Yeah.” Eddie squeezed your hand under the table. “I’m sure. This is what I want, what’s best for us.”

Wayne took a long sip of his beer. “God, Ed,” he said, once he’d sat the bottle back down on the kitchen table. “How did you let this happen?”

That weekend, December 1985, you wore a thrifted lacy white dress to the courthouse. Eddie dressed in a black button up shirt, tucked into his only pair of not-ripped jeans. His hair was combed and neat, and he was freshly shaven. You held a small cheap bouquet as you said your vows in front of the justice of the peace, then held Eddie’s hands and looked into his eyes as you declared your love for him. You cried. Eddie almost did.

Your parents and Wayne watched on - it was a bittersweet moment for them. They could see the love between you, but the circumstances weren’t ideal.

You graduated 5 months pregnant, but the pride you felt at finishing school was nothing compared to how proud you were to see Eddie walk the stage. Wayne teared up as Eddie was handed his diploma. Your two families took photos together outside after the ceremony, Eddie’s hand possessively on your belly.

Your daughter, Caroline Roxanne Munson, was born September 1986. Your pregnancy was blessedly easy, your birth simple and quick. Eddie held his baby girl like she was made of glass, like she held the secrets of the universe.

“Hi, baby girl,” he mumbled to her as he rocked her in his arms, you asleep in the hospital bed behind him. The tiny baby opened her eyes, peeking around the room but focusing as much as she could on Eddie’s face. Eddie trailed his finger lightly over her chubby cheek, her small nose - his nose. Your lips. His eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I love you and your mama more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

Eddie got a job as a mechanic right out of high school, at the shop down the road from Forest Hills. He was determined - it didn’t take long before he was buying a trailer and having it put in next door to Wayne’s. A new double wide, with three bedrooms.

The front door led into a large open living room with a kitchen to the right. Past the kitchen was the door to the master bedroom with a bathroom attached. Down the hall to the left was a bathroom, and two smaller bedrooms.

Caroline spent the first couple months of her life sleeping in the room with you and Eddie, but when she was six months old, you moved her into her own room.

You were happy.

When Caroline was old enough, you got a job as a receptionist for a local doctor’s office. You and Eddie were doing well - you had pulled yourselves out of a bad situation and made the best of it, and made yourselves a nice life. Wayne and your parents were proud of you both.

January 1988 - it occurred to you that you hadn’t gotten your period in three months. You’d been so busy you hadn’t even noticed - you didn’t exactly track it, it came when it came. But when you noticed it had been months? Panic set in. Caroline was only 16 months old, it felt like you’d just had her first birthday party.

You kissed Eddie at the door, took Caroline to daycare, and bought a pregnancy test on the way to work. It sat in its bag in your car all day, weighing heavily on your mind during work.

When you got off you went straight home - usually you got off work at 4, picked up Caroline, and started dinner in time for Eddie to get home at 6:30. But today, you had something to do before you could pick up your daughter.

At the house, you tossed your car keys on the hall table and headed straight for the master bathroom, bag clutched in your hand. 30 minutes later, and you were staring at a familiar sight - a positive pregnancy test.

You had no idea how Eddie was going to take the news. Sure, it was better to get pregnant now than when you were 17. But was it the right time? You and Eddie hadn’t even talked about more kids - you figured he didn’t want more. One was enough for both of you.

You picked up Caroline and got home, starting the meatloaf and mashed potato dinner. At 6:30, Caroline was sitting on the floor, playing with her toys with the Care Bears on the TV while you finished up the last of dinner. You were placing the steaming dishes on the kitchen table when the front door opened and Eddie walked in, oil splattered coveralls unzipped.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you. “Smells great. Is it ready?”

“Yep,” you said, maybe too casually. Eddie gave you a look, but shrugged it off, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“And how’s my other best girl?” he asked, lifting Caroline into his arms. “What did you learn at school today?”

Caroline babbled to him about Care Bears. Eddie smiled at his daughter - he adored her like he’d never adored anything else. Not even his first sweetheart - the guitar currently hanging in your bedroom that still got plenty of love.

“That’s great, baby girl,” he said. He kissed her on the top of her head and sat her back down, where she took off running into the kitchen and straight into your legs. You picked her up, sitting her on your hip.

“How was your day?” Eddie asked you. He grabbed a bite of meatloaf and popped it into his mouth.

“It was…it was good,” you said. “Uh, boring.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Hey, I’m gonna go take a quick shower. I’ll be right back and we can eat.”

“Okay,” you said, watching his form already retreating into the bedroom. The door closed behind him, leaving you alone with Caroline. You sat her in her high chair and cut up her meatloaf, making her plate.

You were helping her eat when Eddie came back out, hair wet and dressed in a white tank top and his plaid pajama pants. He took his usual seat and began piling his plate high with food.

You’d changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants since getting off work. You sat down in your seat across the table, Caroline between the two of you. You pushed your food around your plate.

“So,” you began, after a few minutes of idle conversation. “I, uh. Something happened today.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asked, looking up at you as he chewed his food. “What?”

You bit your lip. Caroline shoved a whole handful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. “My period is three months late.”

Silence. Eddie stopped eating, just staring at you. The only sound was Caroline, oblivious as she squealed and continued eating her dinner.

“…Oh?” he said finally. You couldn’t read him - you had no idea what he was thinking.

“Yeah,” you said. This was incredibly awkward. Things between you and Eddie were never this stilted. “So I got a test today.”

Eddie had lost his appetite, at least for right now. His food sat untouched in front of him while he stared at you. “Did you take it?”

“Yeah.”

“And?” He was getting impatient. “Please just tell me.”

You looked down at your plate. “It was positive.”

A long rush of air. Eddie running a hand through his wet curls, pushing them back out of his face. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, staring at some point on the wall behind you now instead of at you.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Okay. This is…it’s okay. We’re okay.”

“You think so?” Your brow was furrowed in concern. “Can we afford it? Are we ready? Is Caroline ready?”

“We’ll just…have to get ready,” Eddie said. “I mean, financially I think we’ll be okay. We’re alright. But are you…are you ready for another baby?” He was looking at you again. He reached across the table and took your hand, Caroline obliviously blowing raspberries and getting food everywhere. “This is mostly a big change for you.”

It was true. You were the one who’d have to go through another pregnancy and birth, you were the one who’d be at home with a newborn while Eddie only got one week of parental leave. You were the primary parent while Eddie worked longer hours.

“We don’t really have a choice,” you said. “I’ve got to be like, 10 weeks pregnant at least.” Eddie rubbed his hand over his chest. “But…yeah. I think I can do it.”

You were 11 weeks pregnant, it turned out, with a healthy little baby. Eddie smiled at you so big his face hurt at the first ultrasound. At home or out in public, he kept his hand on your belly most of the time, protectively.

This pregnancy was already such a different experience. Eddie was excited. He was extremely involved, stayed by your side every second, constantly had to be touching you and the bump, talked about baby stuff, wished for a son. Of course he’d be happy with another daughter too, but - a son would be cool, he thought.

You decided not to find out the gender. It was going to be a surprise - you decorated the third bedroom in gender neutral colors, a yellow Winnie the Pooh theme. Eddie made a little Hellfire shirt, just like he had for Caroline when you were still in high school.

You went into labor in the middle of the night. It was right on time, and your bag had been packed for weeks by the door. You dropped Caroline off with Wayne next door, and headed to the hospital to have a baby.

The birth was a little more complicated this time. There was some hemorrhaging, so they wouldn’t let you hold the baby right away. But in June 1988, you gave birth to another beautiful baby girl - Janis “Janie” Nicole Munson.

Wayne brought Caroline, who was 1 year and 9 months old, to the hospital to visit. She clung to Wayne tightly until he entered the room and she recognized you and Eddie - she reached for her father, whining for him. He laughed, lifting her from his uncle’s arms.

“Hey, angel,” he said to her. “Are you ready to meet your baby sister?”

Caroline wasn’t sure about Janie at first. She just stared at her like she was scared to touch her. Janie was sound asleep in your arms, wrapped in her hospital blanket with her little hat on her head full of dark brown hair. Finally, Caroline reached out, poking her cheek. That was as much as you were getting from her.

The sisters warmed up to each other quickly. Caroline was so fussy with noises as a baby, but Janie could sleep through the loudest of her sister’s screeches - maybe she’d gotten used to them in the womb.

After his week of parental leave, when you all stayed home together, Eddie took Caroline to daycare every morning while you stayed home for 6 weeks with Janie. You spent most of your days on the couch, cuddled together and watching old sitcom reruns. You were happy and content.

Janie hardly ever cried. She was so different from her sister - quiet and reserved, even as she grew. She was well behaved and kind, while Caroline was loud and in charge (but still a sweet girl).

Eddie adjusted to life as a dad of two easily. He really was a natural at being a father. He’d walk around the house with Janie in his arms, a giggling Caroline hanging on his back with her arms around his neck.

“Did you get her to sleep?” you asked Eddie one night, bleary eyed as you breastfed Janie in bed. He was shutting the bedroom door softly behind him.

“Yeah,” he said. “She went down easy tonight. She’s out.” He laid on the bed next to you with a groan - he’d had a long day at work. “How are my other two girls?”

“Tired,” you said. “She’s almost done eating. She should be ready to lay down in a few minutes.”

“Good,” Eddie said. “You need the rest.”

You did. It was hard to find time to sleep between taking care of a 3 month old and a newly 2 year old. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted.

“You want me to take her?” he asked. “I can finish feeding her with the bottle.”

“No, it’s okay. She hates the bottle.” You smiled down at your baby daughter. “I think she might already be asleep.”

Eddie leaned over. “She’s eating in her sleep?”

“Yeah. She does that.”

Janie finished eating about 10 minutes later, just letting go and turning her sleepy head. She was out. Eddie took her from your arms and down the hall to her bedroom.

When he came back, he crawled back into bed next to you. “Finally alone,” he teased, kissing your shoulder.

You knew he was just messing around - you hadn’t been in the mood for sex since Janie was born, even though you’d been cleared for 6 weeks - Eddie had been patient. But you wanted him - finally, something was coming alive inside you as Eddie kissed across your skin.

“Yeah,” you said. “Finally.” You met each other’s eyes - then your lips crashed together, meeting in a heated kiss. Eddie’s tongue slid into your mouth, pressing against yours, exploring you. He moaned, he was already hard - it had been months, after all.

“God, I need you,” he groaned as your hand brushed over the rock hard erection in his pajama pants. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you too,” you whispered back. You pulled him tighter into you, your sensitive breasts pressed against his bare chest.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to rush you. We really- we really don’t have to.”

“I want to, Eddie,” you told him, grinding your hips against his cock, making him moan pathetically.

Then you showed him just how much.

February 1990, when Caroline was 3 ½ years old and Janie was nearing 2, Eddie came to you with a proposition.

“Let’s have another baby,” he said.

“What?” You nearly spit out your coffee. “Eddie- what?”

“I know, it’s completely out of nowhere,” he said. “But hear me out. The girls are older, a little more independent. We’re financially stable. And I want another baby.”

“You want another baby?” Somehow, you’d still never discussed it. “I didn’t think you’d even be happy about two kids.”

“Are you kidding?” he said. “With you? I’ll have ten.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “We aren’t kids ourselves anymore. We’re 23 and 21. We have stable jobs, we’re great parents. We can do this.”

With two accidental pregnancies under your belt, you and Eddie felt like getting pregnant on purpose would be a breeze. You were experts at this point, after all. And the act that led to the making of babies was one you two had plenty of practice at.

But it didn’t happen. You fully expected to get pregnant right away, so when your period showed up the next month, you had been borderline confused.

“I don’t get it,” you said, sitting down on the side of the bed next to Eddie, feeling dejected and sad. “We- I mean, we had sex plenty of times without protection. Why didn’t it work?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Eddie said gently. “Maybe it can take time? I’m sure it’ll happen next month.”

But in April, your period showed up again. And again in May and June. By the time July rolled around, you were scared and discouraged.

“We did this by accident twice,” you said, tossing a negative pregnancy test in the trash can and wiping tears from your eyes. “How can it be so hard to do on purpose?”

“Maybe we should go to the doctor?” Eddie offered. He was leaning against the doorway of the master bathroom, shirtless with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m sure there’s…an explanation.”

“But probably not a good one,” you sniffled. “But…I’ll think about it.”

August came, and with it came an increase in appointments at the pediatrician office you worked at in preparation for school. Between work and the kids, you were kept so busy you completely forgot about taking a test.

When you remembered, you were 2 weeks late.

“Eddie?” you crept into the bedroom after laying down Janie. Eddie had just gotten Caroline bathed and in bed, and was lying in the bed you shared, shirtless, flipping through his D&D notebook with a cigarette between his lips. He had feared his days of gaming were over, but he still found time for Hellfire every other week. He was still the only one of his friends to get married or have kids. You wondered sometimes if that bothered him.

“What’s up?” he asked, looking up from his notebook. He put out the cigarette in the ashtray next to the bed and closed the book, dropping it in the drawer.

“So…” you said, climbing in bed. “I took…a test.”

Eddie’s eyes scanned your face for any hint at how you were feeling. When he didn’t see sadness, a grin slowly spread across his lips. “Did you?”

“Yeah, I did,” you said. You were trying your best to hold your own smile back. You placed the test in Eddie’s hand - he turned it over to reveal the result. Positive.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug while you giggled. “This is the best news. I’m so fuckin’ happy. Another baby.”

Eddie was a little more open with his hope for a son this time around. He reassured you every time that he’d be happy with a third daughter, but - he had his hopes. You didn’t mind either way - you loved being a girl mom, but a son would be amazing, too.

This pregnancy was rougher than the first two. You stayed sick, often ending up in the hospital for fluids after being unable to keep anything down. You were in a lot of pain, under a lot of stress, and were exhausted at all hours of the day. Eddie stepped up a lot, coming home from work as early as he was able and cooking dinner some nights, helping with the girls and their bedtime routine.

Your doctor was concerned, but the baby made it until their due date, April 1991. You were induced, however, because they didn’t want to chance leaving things any longer. The birth went well, and your third daughter was born - Melissa ‘Missy’ Joan Munson.

Having a third child turned out to be a much bigger adjustment than one to two, or even none to one. Everything changed after Missy’s birth. Eddie never said it, but it was clear he felt some regret for suggesting a third child, despite the love he felt for her.

You and Eddie were both exhausted, between work and home, it felt like it never stopped. By the time the girls were in bed - Caroline and Janie sharing, Missy in her own nursery - you were too tired to do anything, both just passing out in your own bed. Your sex life was nonexistent, and you hardly had the chance to say a passing word to one another.

Over the next four years, things were strained. You were struggling more financially than you had expected. The stress over bills was constant, one or both of you sitting hunched over the kitchen table with the mail spread out and your head in your hands.

When Missy was three, she started preschool and you picked up a second job waitressing. You had never been at that level of exhausted before.

It strained your relationship more than anything. Eddie was withdrawing, spending more time at work (which you couldn’t complain about because you needed the money), going out with the guys, and burying his stresses in beer and weed after the girls were in bed. Many nights, you went to sleep alone.

Fights became a regular thing. Whether it be about finances, chores, parenting, whatever - it was always something. It felt like you couldn’t have a civilized conversation with each other anymore.

“You promised you would do the dishes,” you said, dropping the laundry basket full of the girl’s clothes in front of the washing machine. You opened it, poured in the detergent, and angrily started throwing clothes inside. “But they were still there when I got home today.”

“I forgot,” Eddie mumbled. He was drinking a beer in the recliner by the TV. The girls were in bed, and Eddie was distracted by whatever rerun was currently playing.

“You always forget.” The last of the clothes were put inside and you slammed the lid shut. Turning the dial, you started the wash cycle. “Then I have to end up doing it myself.”

“Well, it’s kind of your job,” he muttered.

“Are you fucking serious?” You walked into the living room and stepped in front of the TV, hand on your hip. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Here we fuckin’ go,” he groaned.

“You are such an asshole,” you spat. “What’s your problem? It’s impossible to get you to do anything around here anymore. You just get home from work and sit on your ass and let me do everything!”

“I’m tired!” he exclaimed. “I’m fucking exhausted! I just want to sit down with a fuckin’ beer when I get off work and not get bitched at by my wife for once.”

“Oh, I’m bitching?” you scoffed. “I’m fucking tired too, Eddie! I work two jobs then come home and take care of the house and my apparently four children.”

“Real mature,” Eddie said. He took another swig of his beer then pushed closed the leg rest of the recliner. “Fuck this. I’m going to bed.”

“This is why we can never get through anything,” you threw your hands in the air. “You run away. You’re not willing to listen to anything I have to say. You have no respect for me. You don’t care about making anything better.”

“There is no ‘making things better’ when it comes to you.” He threw his beer bottle into the trash can with a loud clatter. “You’re never happy. Nothing I do makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

Silence. Eddie stopped, but didn’t turn around. Finally, he shook his head. “Goodnight.” And he disappeared into the bedroom.

This wasn’t new, either. You’d end up waiting until you knew Eddie was asleep before you came to bed yourself, even if you were tired. Or maybe you’d just sleep on the couch. Either way, it felt like things between you and Eddie were doomed.

It was March 1995 when you called it quits for good.

The fighting, the resentment, the drama - it had all gotten to be too much. You and Eddie didn’t even seem to like each other anymore. You didn’t know how Eddie felt deep down, but you knew you’d always love him - even if you felt like you hated him right now.

You moved out and into a three bedroom apartment. Eddie helped you move while the girls were with your parents, but it was extremely awkward. Steve, Robin, and Nancy came over and helped, too, which made it a little less uncomfortable.

It was a bittersweet moment for you - you were happy to be getting out of that house full of painful memories and starting a new life on your own, but watching Eddie walk out the door and leave you standing there alone - it crushed you. It hurt more than you ever anticipated it would. You almost went after him. Almost.

The divorce was finalized five months later.

You and Eddie barely even looked at each other as you signed the papers. There was a custody hearing, mercifully brief since you and Eddie were able to come to an agreement easily. You would keep the girls during the week while Eddie got them every other weekend. He would have liked more time, but he knew with the divorce would come sacrifice.

The girls didn’t take it well. They were 9, 7, and 4 at the time, old enough to understand what was happening and what it meant for their life as a family. For the first few months, they would cry their eyes out at every custody drop off, which made both you and Eddie feel like the worst people on the planet. But with time, everyone settled into the new normal.

You dated a few guys on and off, but never got into a serious relationship. More hookups than anything. It’s like you looked for Eddie in every guy you met, whether you could admit that to yourself or not.

Eddie was a different story. It seemed like he had a new girl on his arm every time you turned around. And it pissed you off. It’s not like you couldn’t get a boyfriend - you had plenty of opportunity to. You just didn’t like anyone. Eddie didn’t care. He didn’t have any serious girlfriends, but he didn’t mind sleeping around. He was single for the first time since he was 17, and he was living it up. It made you sick.

But you were better off apart.

October 1997

Your car pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned Shell station, the designated meeting place since the separation. It was run down, weeds peeking through the cracks in the asphalt. Eddie’s truck wasn’t there yet.

You checked your beeper to see if you had any missed messages from Eddie - nothing.

You sighed. He was always late. The girls were in the backseat fighting over a toy, not bothered at all.

Finally, his truck rumbled into the parking lot. You could hear the music before you saw the vehicle - metal blasting so loud the whole street probably heard. You rolled your eyes, preparing to deal with him.

“Daddy’s here!” Missy yelled, unhooking herself from her car seat and reaching for the door. Caroline and Janie lit up too, grabbing their weekend bags.

Eddie’s truck skidded to a stop in the parking spot one over from yours. You slid your sunglasses on, then opened the door, stepping out just as Eddie hopped down from his side. You could see her sitting in the passenger seat, not even bothering to look at you.

“Daddy!” the girls all yelled, jumping out of the SUV and running to Eddie. He laughed as he hugged them all, tossing Missy in the air.

“How are my favorite girls?” he asked, ruffling Janie’s hair. She pushed him off with a giggle, fixing her braid.

“I thought I was your favorite girl?” Stacy called from the passenger seat. She was joking, but it still made you want to punch her.

“We’re good,” Caroline said. “Can we see Laura this weekend?”

Laura was Jeff’s 6 year old. Jeff was the only one of Eddie’s friends who’d had a kid, too, and she was close with the girls.

“I’m sure we can,” he said. Missy was latched onto his leg, as if she hadn’t seen him in years. He lifted her, placing a kiss on her head. “Okay, girls, go ahead and get in the truck. We gotta go, and I need to talk to your mom before we leave.”

“Bye, mommy!” The girls called, each giving you a tight hug. You waved and watched them climb into the tall truck, closing the door hard behind them. No one in the truck could hear you now.

Eddie took a step closer to you. “You look nice,” he said, his voice low. “You gotta date or something?”

“Or something,” you said. “Not that it’s any of your business. Don’t you have your skank to get back to?”

Eddie nearly cackled, throwing his head back and laughing hard. “You always were so feisty,” he said.

You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Take good care of my girls.”

“You know I will,” he said seriously. “You can call any time. If you wanna talk to them.”

You glanced towards the tinted truck window. “I don’t think she would like that too much.”

“She’ll get over it,” he shrugged. “You’re their mom. You can talk to them whenever.” He scuffed his boot against the ground. “How…have you been?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but jumped when the truck’s car horn blared. You and Eddie both looked over his shoulder to see Stacy leaning on the horn, looking out the window and gesturing for Eddie to hurry up.

“Guess you have to go,” you said. “Your girl is calling you.”

Eddie looked sheepish. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said. He looked like he wanted to say something else maybe, but instead he turned, walking back around the truck to the driver’s side door. You climbed back into your own car, the silence heavy with the kids gone.

You started the car and drove back home.

tag list

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glassbxttless · 24 hours ago

Text

The Bat

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k+

summary: You’ve convinced Eddie to spend his day off tour at the mall— and Eddie’s determined to win his Cryptid of a wife, her plush counterpart.

warnings: eddie’s on tour! lots of “my wife” comments, lots of love for eds n bats

notes: Thanks to @wheels-of-despair for this one! Eddie n Bats needed some love! Big thank you to @munsonsmixtapes for lookin this baby over and to @peachyproserpina for editing! This was the last thing I had queued, so I definitely will not be posting as often from here on out!

You’ve learned pretty quickly that tagging along on Eddie’s first tour is less like being on a glamorous rock n roll adventure that he promised you and more like babysitting the very loud, very dramatic man-child you married in a different city every other day. It’s been a lot of shitty motel beds, van naps, and late nights in grimy bars where the music vibrates so loud you feel it in your bones. But today— his day off— by some small miracle, you’ve managed to convince him to have a normal afternoon at the mall, mostly because he ripped the knee out of his last pair of jeans last night by jumping off something he really shouldn’t have been jumping off of.

So here you are, somewhere in Missouri, walking through a mall that smells like Auntie Anne’s pretzels and Orange Julius. You’re lugging a Hot Topic bag full of Eddie’s new black jeans and socks while he insists on carrying nothing but his own soda. Lunch at the food court went as you had expected. He had stolen most of your fries, made loud comments about how “corporate America is brainwashing us with sesame chicken,” and somehow got into a debate with the Panda Express cashier. You’re halfway to the exit, exhausted by the day you’d just had, when he stops dead in his tracks.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, breaking into a grin.

You look around, expecting— you know— a rabid fan? Or maybe a security guard about to throw you both out. But no. Eddie’s eyes are fixed on a claw machine next to the photo booth. It’s stuffed full of colorful plush toys. Bright blue Care Bears. Strawberry Shortcake dolls with those creepy little faces. Neon horses. And smack in the middle of it all, almost camouflaged between all of the colors, is a tiny black bat with shiny wings and big beady eyes.

“Bats,” he whispers, his eyes shining as he turns to you. He reaches out to clutch your arm. “Do you see it? That little guy is you. That is my wife. In plush form.”

You snort, trying to keep a straight face and not roll your eyes. “Oh my god, Eddie, please don’t—”

But it’s already too late to plead with him. He’s patting himself down for quarters and tugging out his wallet.

The first dollar yields a Strawberry Shortcake.

“Well,” he says, holding it up like it’s diseased, “you don’t smell like plastic fruit, so this can’t be you… But you can put it with your dolls, I guess.” He shrugs and drops it to the floor.

The second dollar produces a purple Care Bear.

“Nope,” he declares with a sigh, tossing it on top of the doll. “You’re way more goth than this guy.”

The third? A stupid neon green horse. Eddie pulls it out and scowls at it. “What the hell is this? I didn’t marry a horse. This machine is mocking me now, I swear.”

By now he’s kneeling on the floor, with his forehead practically pressed to the glass, muttering something about “the anti-bat agenda.” You just lean against the side of the machine, sipping your soda as you watch him, thoroughly enjoying the sight of your husband unraveling this rapidly in a Missouri mall.

Eddie just ignores your looks and shoves another dollar into the slot. Nothing. Then another. More brightly-colored rejects hit the pile.

By his eighth try, he’s looking up at you, hair in his face, completely serious and maybe a little heartbroken. “You deserve this bat, okay? You deserve this bat more than anyone in this goddamn mall deserves anything. I’m not walking out of here until I’ve claimed him in your name.”

You’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe by the time he hits attempt number eleven. This time the claw actually hooks around the bat’s wing and Eddie’s entire body goes rigid.

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” he whispers, biting his lip, as though he’s definitely watching a miracle about to happen. The claw rises slowly and the bat dangles in the air. It wobbles just a bit. “Don’t you fucking dare drop,” Eddie hisses under his breath, trying to keep his voice low. “You stay there. I’m trying to win you for my wife, you little bastard.”

It sways once more… and then drops perfectly into the chute where he wants it. Eddie lets out a triumphant whoop that echoes all the way to the pretzel stand as he throws his hands in the air. Then he kneels dramatically and retrieves the bat like he’s pulling Excalibur from the stone and not a tiny plush toy from a claw machine. He spins toward you, his hair flying, and then he thrusts it into your hands with a grin so big it almost looks fake. “There,” he says softly and slightly breathless. “For my little cryptid wife. The most beautiful bat in all of Missouri.”

You clutch that stupid little bat to your chest, grinning at him like this was the most valuable thing he could’ve ever given you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re welcome,” he counters proudly, hands sitting on his hips.

You’re still giggling as he scoops up the pile of rejected plushies and stuffs them into one of the shopping bags.

“These guys are coming with us on tour too,” he announces with a shrug, holding a free hand out for you to take. He kisses your temple and starts to name them as you walk away from the machine. “This one’s Strawberry Steve. This Care Bear’s Frank. And this horse? This horse owes me all of my money back for making me play that thing eleven times.”

You just shake your head as you listen to him ramble on, clutching the little bat to your chest. You walk in step with one another, wondering how you’re ever supposed to keep a straight face around him for the rest of your life— and just as you thought your mall trip was coming to an end, he veers you toward the photo booth. He drops your hand to slide his arm around your shoulders and nudge you right along to the booth without even asking.

“We have to,” he grins down at you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Do we really though?”

“Oh, we do,” he insists with a nod, already fishing one of his last crumpled dollars out of his pocket. “Bats, it’s a law. A mall law.”

You sigh dramatically and before you can say anything else, he’s already ducking inside the booth, squishing himself onto the little bench and patting the spot beside him. The curtain barely closes behind you before he’s feeding a dollar into the slot. “This is for the ages,” he grins, resting the bat on his knee like it’s the newest member of the family.

The first flash catches you mid-giggle, Eddie’s sticking his tongue out and holding the bat between you. In the second photo, he pretends the bat is whispering secrets to him while you cover your face, laughing so hard you can barely sit still. For the third photo, he insists you both look as serious and dramatic as possible while he holds the bat above you— which lasts about two seconds before he accidentally drops the bat on his head and you double over, both of you grinning like idiots as the camera clicks. And in the last one… he surprises you. Just as the light goes off, he drops the bat, leans over and kisses you, soft and unhurried. His hand cups your cheek gently, thumb brushing across your cheekbone, like he’s already forgotten about the camera completely.

When the machine spits the strip out, he grabs it and holds it up proudly to inspect each photo. “This is art,” he announces. “This belongs in the Louvre. Or… at least on my wall of fame.”

On the way back to the hotel, he keeps glancing down at the photos in his hand. He runs his thumb over them every few steps, smiling to himself. Once you’re inside the room, he drops the shopping bag of his jeans on the chair, grabs his duffle, flops down cross-legged on the floor in front of his guitar case, and fishes around in his duffel bag until he finds a little roll of black electrical tape.

With great care— his tongue poking out in concentration— he opens the case, tips his guitar up to expose the back, and tapes the strip to the underside, right next to a faded sticker you’d given him a year ago, and a couple of old venue wristbands knotted through the strap.

“There,” he says finally, his voice soft, leaning back to admire it. “Now you’re always gonna be on tour with me. Officially.” Then he takes the little bat and nestles it on top of the duffle-bag, its shiny little wings sticking out awkwardly.

You head for the shower and take your time washing the day away, and when you come back out— wearing one of his old shirts— he’s sitting on the edge of the bed now, elbows on his knees, just watching you step out of the door.

And it’s quiet.

There’s no smirking coming from him, no wisecracks. Just Eddie looking at you like you hung the moon in the sky just for him. “You’re something else,” he mumbles, almost like he’s saying it to himself.

You stand there for another moment, and then he reaches out lazily, tugging you down into his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his forehead against yours, holding you there like he never plans to let go. “Don’t know how I ever got this lucky,” he breathes out, his fingers curling around the hem of your shirt, his thumb tracing up and down your spine in slow, absent circles.

And when you glance over his shoulder at his— the photo strip taped in place and the little bat perched proudly on top of his bag— you realize this is what he really wanted all along.

A little piece of home to carry with him, wherever he goes.

tags ;; @jj-155 @joyfullyswimmingface @emxxblog @autumneva @samslvrgirl @ironmusictrash @hazydespair @littlemissholy @prettycalla @vinecstasy @thorins-queen-of-erebor @keeryhours @beau-hawkins @preciouslosers @amanitacowboy @crybabyddl @jeangeniex @thejordiverse @kripkie101-blog @robinbuckleywife @dancininseptember

#eddie munson #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eds n bats #eddie n bats #🎸🦇

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lordzannis · 3 days ago

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4K notes · View notes

rimzaaa · 3 days ago

Text

You Belong To Me

Series!

Chapter Fourteen: Finally Mine

Pairing: Dark!Inho (Frontman) x Fem!Reader (y/n)

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: After catching Y/N trying to escape, In-ho finally snaps. Stripping away the last of his restraint, he blindfolds her, pins her to the wall, and claims what he’s coveted for years. With his mask off but his identity still hidden, he takes her to bed — not with cruelty, but with obsession, control, and filthy reverence. She fights it at first… until her body betrays her. Until she begs. Until she says the words he’s been waiting to hear “I belong to you.”

Warnings: 18+ Captor x Captive dynamic. Dubious consent. Blindfold / identity concealment kink. Obsessive behavior & emotional manipulation. Explicit sexual content (graphic but not vulgar) Filthy dialogue. Emotional surrender.

Author's Note: Here is the chapter you all were waiting for!!! If I don't post daily or every other day, just know that I might be busy with my exams prep. Thank you for showing patience. Love y'all <3

Words Count: 2055

Tag list: Wanna get tagged? Lemme know in the comments.

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Days blurred into weeks.

Y/n hadn’t misbehaved again since that night.

Not because she feared him — but because she feared herself.

The need was growing. Slowly. Relentlessly.

A hunger that twisted her stomach and made her skin burn when he was near.

A part of her wanted to give in — to let go and fall into whatever twisted obsession he offered.

But another part, the part still clinging to logic, screamed that he was a monster.

An obsessive psychopath.

A man who ran deadly games and wore a mask to hide the worst of himself.

In-ho hadn’t touched her since.

He didn’t need to.

She was learning.

He could see it in her silence. In the way she flinched less when he got too close. In the way her breathing hitched when his gloved hand brushed her shoulder.

And most of all — he could hear it in the rhythm of her heart.

He watched her pulse flutter in her throat whenever he leaned in, saw the way her fingers twitched like she wanted to grab him… or push him away.

He knew what that meant.

Desire.

Denial.

Disaster in the making.

And yet, beneath the submission, something else was stirring in her.

Because Y/n wasn’t just surviving.

She was watching. Listening. Learning.

He once let slip the word island.

So she began mapping every hallway she walked through. Memorizing the number of turns, the pattern of the cameras, the timing of the guards.

She tracked the shifts. Counted meals. Noticed who carried what and where they entered from.

And then — she saw it.

A vent in the ceiling of her room. Small. Covered. But reachable.

And tonight… she would find out where it led.

---

Y/n hadn’t stepped out of the room all morning. And neither had Inho come to see her—he’d been busy somewhere, though he hadn’t mentioned where.

She rose slowly from the bed and quietly locked the door. The vent was too high to reach on its own, so she stacked a table and a chair. Carefully balancing on her toes, she reached up to the vent lid. After a bit of effort, her fingers managed to pry it open.

Meanwhile, Inho was in the control room—busy overseeing new game plans, recruiting guards, and reviewing files on potential players. That was when a guard entered, hesitating at the door.

“S-Sir… I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I think you should know something.”

Inho’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing beneath the mask.

“That girl… she hasn’t left the room all day.”

The chair screeched as Inho stood, letting it crash behind him. In a flash, he stormed over and grabbed the guard by the collar.

“And you’re telling me this now?” he growled, shoving the guard aside.

Without wasting a second, he took long strides down the corridor.

Moments later, he reached his private suite. He twisted the doorknob.

Locked.

“Y/n,” his voice was low and sharp, edged with fury. “Open the door. Now!”

She flinched, heart hammering in her chest. His voice sent a chill down her spine.

“J-Just a second!” she called, scrambling to step down from the chair and table as quickly and quietly as possible.

“I said now!” Inho roared from the other side, patience unraveling. His instincts screamed—she was up to something.

Y/n managed to place the chair back, but before she could move the table—

BANG.

The gunshot echoed as Inho blasted the doorknob off. One swift kick, and the door slammed open.

Y/n froze.

Her breath caught. Body trembling. No second chances now.

Inho stepped inside, gun still in hand, gaze falling on the open vent and the makeshift setup beneath it. Silent. Dangerous.

“I… I-it’s not what you’re thinking,” she stammered, trying to form a lie—but her voice cracked and failed her.

In a flash, he was in front of her. One gloved hand wrapped around her throat—not choking, just enough to make a point.

“Were you trying to escape, sweetheart?” he asked, voice smooth and venomous.

Y/n shook her head quickly, but his grip tightened just slightly.

“Liar,” he hissed. “I thought you were finally learning to behave… to obey. But no—you’re still the same defiant little brat.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came. Her limbs felt heavy. His hand, his presence, the raw authority—it all overwhelmed her.

“This was your last chance,” he said through clenched teeth. “And now… now I’ll show you what happens when you break my trust.”

Her breath hitched. Heat crawled up her skin. Fear… or something else?

Inho stepped back, slammed the door shut, and turned to the drawer.

From it, he pulled out a strip of black silk—the same blindfold as before.

Slowly, he walked toward her, each step deliberate. She instinctively backed away.

“I’ve been far too gentle with you,” he murmured. “No more. No more holding back.”

He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, pressing her chest to the wall. One hand on her hip, the other reaching around her head as he whispered against her ear—

“I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

He tied the blindfold securely around her eyes from behind.

Y/n didn’t resist. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Her hatred had faded to something hot, pulsing, and far more dangerous.

Inho slowly removed his mask… and then his gloves.

Her breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling beneath the blindfold he’d just secured. She stood with her hands braced against the wall, spine pressed straight from the way he pinned her there—his chest heavy against her back, one hand still curled possessively around her hip.

She couldn’t see him.

But she could feel him. The way his breath ghosted across her neck. The tension in his body. The silent, explosive restraint in every movement.

And then—she heard it.

The sound of the mask coming off.

A soft clink as it was placed on the table.

No more barrier.

No more distance.

Just him.

The real him.

After years of watching. Wanting. Waiting.

She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but his voice was already there, low and dangerous at her ear.

“You’ll stay blindfolded,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her jaw. “You don’t get to see me yet… not until I know you’re mine. Not until you stop pretending you want to run.”

He pulled back slightly and trailed his fingers from her throat down to the hem of her shirt. A slow tug upward. She raised her arms without thinking.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sliding the fabric over her head and letting it drop to the floor.

Her breath hitched at the praise.

Inho stepped closer again, pinning her against the wall once more, skin to skin now, his own shirt came off now, his bare chest warm and solid against her back. She felt his hand slide along her side, firm and possessive.

“You have no idea,” he growled softly, lips brushing her shoulder, “how long I’ve imagined this. Every night. Every damn time you looked up at the camera, not knowing I was the one watching. Wanting. Needing.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

“And now you’re here. Begging for it with your body, even when your mouth lies.”

She whimpered as his hands slid down, gripping her thighs, lifting her off the floor effortlessly. She gasped as her back hit the bed.

He placed her on the bed like something precious he was about to destroy. His hand slid down the length of her body, fingers curling into her thigh to pull her legs apart, slow and deliberate.

Y/N gasped, back arching. Blindfolded, every sensation was sharper. She couldn’t see him, but her skin knew him now—by the weight of his body, the heat of his breath, the sin in his voice.

He hovered over her, skin brushing against skin, letting her feel every inch of his bare chest, the ridges of muscle, the heat pouring from him like a storm barely contained.

“You feel that?” he whispered against her neck, grinding his hips down against hers, letting her feel his full arousal. “That’s what you do to me.”

She whimpered, hands searching blindly until they found his face. Her fingers roamed—jaw, cheekbones, lips. He kissed her palm.

“Imagine me,” he whispered. “Your captor. Your obsession. The man who’s about to ruin you.”

“You feel…” she whispered. “You feel human.”

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t let the skin fool you, sweetheart.”

Then he leaned in again, this time slower—kissing her deeply, hungrily, like he was trying to brand her from the inside out.

“Keep your blindfold on,” he muttered as he moved lower, lips exploring her like a man starved. “I want your mouth begging and your eyes hidden. I want your body trembling because you still don’t know what I look like, and it’s driving you insane.”

Her legs wrapped around him without her even realizing it.

He groaned low at the feel of her pulling him closer.

“That’s it,” he whispered roughly. “Let me ruin you. Let me give you what no one else ever will.”

And then he did.

He claimed her.

Not like a man having sex.

Like a man worshiping the thing he thought he could never touch.

And through it all, her blindfold stayed on. But her hands never left his skin—tracing every inch of his face, as if memorizing something forbidden.

He slipped inside her in one slow, claiming thrust—deep, thick, stretching her open until she gasped and grabbed his arms. He groaned at the feel of her—tight, warm, trembling.

“Fuck… you’re perfect,” he rasped into her ear, thrusting slowly at first, dragging it out, making her feel every inch. “You were made for me. You fit me.”

Each roll of his hips was harder, deeper. His pace punishing and reverent all at once, like he couldn’t decide whether to worship her or break her apart.

“You’ll remember this,” he growled, teeth grazing her throat. “Every time you close your eyes. Every time you breathe.”

She clawed at his back, thighs tightening around his waist. Her head was spinning—pleasure overtaking fear. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, only feel.

“You like it,” he rasped, voice dark and wild. “Being taken like this. Knowing I could’ve had you anytime… but chose to wait until you needed it.”

She moaned—desperate, needy, undone beneath him.

“I’ve dreamed about fucking you like this,” he whispered filthily, lips brushing hers. “Blindfolded. Writhing. Begging.”

His hand slipped between them, rubbing slow, cruel circles at her center while he pounded into her deeper.

“Tell me,” he demanded, voice sharp against her mouth. “Tell me who you belong to.”

She cried out, breath caught between a gasp and a broken moan. He slammed into her again, the headboard rattling against the wall.

“Say it.”

Her hands tangled in his hair. Her lips parted.

“You,” she gasped. “I—I belong to you.”

He stilled, buried deep inside her, chest heaving.

Then—his mouth crashed onto hers, a kiss that was feral and possessive.

“Again” he growled.

“I belong to you,” she repeated, louder now. “I’m yours.”

“Mine” he echoed, fucking her harder now, slamming into her like it was the only truth in the world. “Say it while I’m inside you. While I claim every inch of you.”

“Yours” she moaned. “I’m yours. Please—don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

He pushed her further, made her fall apart, made her cry out his name even though she didn’t know it. And when she came, he kissed her through it—catching every sound, every tremble.

Only then did he follow—deep, hard, growling low as he emptied into her, not pulling out, not stopping, just holding her.

Breathless. Shaking. Claimed.

After a moment, he collapsed on top of her, face buried in her neck, heart pounding like a war drum.

Still blindfolded, her fingers found his face again, and this time they touched him with something new—affection, even if it wasn’t love yet.

“You’ll never belong to anyone else,” he whispered against her skin. “Even if you try.”

She didn’t argue.

Because she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“Run again… and next time, I’ll chain you to this bed.”