#(it’s a good thing I’m here I guess so my mom didn’t go her whole life thinking you could cure autism by giving your child a horrific diet)

[boneless-mika]

Honestly I’m so upset no one will hire me/there’s not universal basic income because I so badly do not want to live with these people

[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meatballs! At the Unspecified Celebratory Event

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!reader

Synopsis: you and Tom see each other at a family event for the first time since your breakup

Masterlist

“Thanks so much for having me. It’s good to see you again.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome. Now go grab some meatballs. I made them myself.” Sam said and squeezed your arm. You smiled in return before going over to the food table.

You put a few meatballs into your plate and mingled in the crowd with friends of the family that you hadn’t seen in a while. You heard someone being greeted by several people as they came in and looked up out of curiosity. Thats when you and Tom made eye contact. You quickly looked away and turned your body while you prayed that he hadn’t seen you. He had, of course, and was immediately making his way over to you.

“Hey.” Tom said when he finally got to you.

“Your mom told me to come.” You said at the same time. You then both apologized at the same time for cutting the other off.

“Oh. Sorry. You first.” Tom said and gestured to you.

“Sorry. Your mom told me to come.” You quickly explained. “I told her it would be too weird now that we’re broken up and everything but she insisted. Plus, I wanted to support Sam.”

“It’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.” Tom said sincerely. You smiled awkwardly and looked around the crowd to avoid eye contact. Tom looked around the crowd as well and briefly wondered that the purpose of the gathering was. The awkward silence went on for so long that it became palpable and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, Tom, I really never would’ve shown up like this if I knew you were gonna be here. I’d hate to make things awkward. But Harry told me it was safe to come. I thought you were filming in LA?” You asked and felt yourself cringing over how much you were over explaining your presence.

“I am. I have the weekend off so I came to support Sam.” Tom answered and felt disappointed now that he knew you hadn’t come just to see him.

“Oh. That’s nice. I love LA. It’s so…hot.” You faked another smile and looked away. Tom felt the conversation falling flat but was desperate to keep talking to you.

“So, uh, you still keep in touch with mum?” He asked you.

“Yeah, yeah. Not that much, though. She checks in on me and I do the same.”

“That’s nice. And I’m guessing you still talk to Harry since he told you I was filming?” He asked and looked over at Harry who had conveniently never mentioned that he was still in contact with you.

“Oh, yeah. Him too.” You laughed nervously. “We were good friends so, yeah. He and I still talk.”

“And you came to support Sam. Who must’ve sent you an invite. To your new place. Since you moved out.” Tom realized with a tight smile.

“He actually didn’t send it to my new place. He gave me an invite the last time I was over his place, so…” You trailed off when you realized your attempt to make him feel better was probably just making things worse.

“Which was…” Tom asked.

“Oh, a couple weeks ago. He had me and Paddy over to try some new recipe. It wasn’t anything serious.” You explained and tried to make it sound as uneventful as possible.

“I see. So you’re still talking to the whole family. Everyone but me.” He said with a tight smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes now that he had learned this information and wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah. Sorry. It felt wrong to just cut ties completely. It’s not like I broke up with them.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Right. Just me.” He returned the laugh and sounded just as awkward. An uncomfortable silence fell between you for a long time now that you had run out of things to say. You made brief eye contact with him and quickly looked away as you scanned the party for something to talk about.

“I haven’t talked to your dad since the breakup, if that helps.” You said finally.

“It helps a little.” Tom shrugged.

“Oh, good, it does?”

“Not really.” He admitted. “Nothing does.”

“Yeah. Me either.” You shrugged and took a long sip of your drink. Tom’s eyebrows went up in surprise to hear that you were struggling just as much.

“Really?” He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and debated telling him just how much you missed him. You ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

“The food was really good, wasn’t it? I loved the meatballs.” You asked to change the subject. You had no idea how to make small talk with someone you used to have a life with.

“Yeah. So good. Sam’s great.” Tom nodded in agreement even though he hadn’t tried any food yet.

“So great.” You echoed. You both hated the faking niceties with each other but you had no idea how else to interact now that you were broken up. Thankfully, Harry walked up to the two of you with a plate of food and relieved some of the tension.

“Hey.” He said to you before realizing Tom was there too. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were talking. Should I leave?”

“No!” You and Tom said in unison. Harry leaving meant you’d have to scramble to find more things to say so you were desperate to keep him there. Harry gave you both a strange look over how enthusiastically you said no before taking a bite of one of his meatballs.

“It’s fine. What did you need?” You asked him.

“That guy I told you about is here. He wants to meet you.” Harry said and pointed over his shoulder. Tom followed his finger and saw a 6 foot tall blonde guy covered in those little minimalistic tattoos. The very tattoos you once told Tom you loved on other people.

“Oh, great.” You smiled and waved to the guy. Tom looked between you and the guy several times and felt jealousy bubble up inside him.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked through a forced laugh so he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“That’s Garrett. He’s one of my photographs buddies.” Harry explained.

“I’ll go say hi.” You told Harry before going over to the guy. Tom watched you hug him hello and clenched his jaw.

“Woah, mate. Whats going on with you? If you stare any harder, that vein in your neck is gonna explode.” Harry said to him.

“Who is that guy?” Tom whispered harshly.

“I told you. He’s a friend from film school. I hooked him up with Y/n.”

“Hooked up?” Tom almost shouted. “What do you mean hooked up?”

“Oh my God. Down boy.” Harry snorted. “I mean I hooked them up to work on a project together. She wants him to shoot something for her.”

“If she needs pictures then why can’t you do it?”

“Because shes like my sister so I don’t want to see her in her underwear.” Harry said like it was obvious. Tom’s stomach dropped and he looked back over at you and Garrett. You were laughing at something he had said and Tom’s jealousy doubled.

“Underwear? What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. She wants to do some album art in this vintage lingerie she found and he specializes in the style she was going for. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining because I was too focused on the meatballs.” Harry shrugged and took another bite of his food. Tom snatched Harry plate and put it down on the nearest table.

“Stop eating the meatballs for one second. Are you telling me you asked that guy to take pictures of her in her underwear?” Tom whispered angrily.

“Yes, Tom. I approached my friend and asked him to take photos of my brothers ex girlfriend in her underwear specifically for my own enjoyment.” Harry said sarcastically. Tom gave him an annoyed look so Harry stopped being sarcastic.

“No. She needed a photographer, he needed a job, so I hooked them up. Thats the end of the very simple and very boring story of why Y/n is talking to that guy.”

“Stop saying hooked them up. You’re making it sound like they’re gonna date. Does he even know about me?” Tom asked as he stared daggers over at you and Garrett.

“He’s seen Spies in Disguise.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned. “I don’t mean my films. Does he know I’m her boyfriend?”

“You mean ex boyfriend?” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. Tom gave him a look and Harry quickly shoved another meatball into his mouth.

“Fine. Ex. Does he know we used to date?”

“Relax, mate. I’m your brother. I’m not gonna throw your girl into the arms of another man. We’re all rooting for you guys to get back together.”

“Okay, good.” Tom sighed in relief.

“But sometimes, in order to realize who your soulmate is, you have to sleep with a beefy photographer who has tattoos straight off a Pinterest board.”

“WHAT?” Tom shouted this time, causing a few people to look over at them.

“Oh my God. It was a joke.” Harry groaned. “Chill out. How are you still this uptight when there are delicious meatballs around?”

“Enough with the meatballs.” Tom hissed. “You don’t really think she’s gonna sleep with him, do you?”

“Hm. Probably not.” Harry shrugged as he looked over at you and Garrett.

“Good.” Tom sighed.

“But my boy is a dawg so he’s definitely gonna try.” Harry snorted and ate another meatball. Tom looked at him with an unamused expression and Harry stopped chewing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Wrong crowd.”

“It doesn’t matter if he tries. She’d never go for a guy like that. He’s all wrong for her. Right?” Tom asked nervously.

“Mate, don’t do this here. We’re here to support Sam. This is not the time or place to fight for your girls honor.” Harry pointed out. Tom reluctantly nodded in agreement and turned to watch you again. Garrett had his hand on your shoulder now as he told you some story.

“Nope. I can’t watch this. I need to talk to her.” Tom decided and crossed the room to get to you. You and Garrett were laughing at something so Tom started laughing too until you noticed he was there.

“Oh, Garrett, this is Tom.” You said to bring Tom into the conversation.

“Hey, man. I loved you in Spies in Disguise.” Garrett said as he shook his hands. Tom felt slightly annoyed that he couldn’t hate this guy since he was nice.

“Thanks.” Tom said quietly. An awkward silence fell between the three of you and all laughter ceased.

“It’s a great movie. Underrated as hell.” You added after an awkward beat of silence.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom said sincerely. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about maybe working together for a shoot.” Garrett answered.

“Right. Harry was telling me about it. I wanted to tell you that you can come over and grab some of your sets if you need them for the shoot. You left a lot at my place.” Tom said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You knew exactly what he was doing and he knew it too. He smiled innocently at you before checking for Garrett’s reaction.

“His place? Why would your stuff be there?” Garett wondered.

“Of course it’s at my place. Where else would she be wearing lingerie?” Tom asked with a simple shrug. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you laughing at what he said.

“Wait, so, how do you guys know each other?” Garrett asked you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She must not have mentioned. I know her from being her boyfriend.” Tom said and put an arm around you.

“Ex boyfriend.” You smiled sarcastically and pushed his arm off.

“Semantics.” Tom shrugged.

“Ex?” Garett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Thats great news. I didn’t think a girl as pretty as you was available.”

“Oh, I’m not.” You laughed awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Garett frowned.

“You’re not?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“I mean, I am, but not for you two. Excuse me.” You smiled at them both and quickly exited the conversation. Tom and Garrett looked at each other with a new sense of competition between them.

“Spies in Disguise wasn’t even that good.” Garett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Tell that to my Kids Choice Award.” Tom snapped.

“I will.” Garrett said mockingly. They exchanged sharp looks with one another before Tom walked away. He searched the room for you but couldn’t find you for a while. He asked around to see if anyone had seen you but had no luck. He sighed and went outside the restaurant to get some air. Coincidentally, you had the same idea. You were leaning against the wall of the restaurant with a drink in your hand and staring out into the night.

“Hey.” Tom said as he approached you.

“Jesus Christ.” You jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I have been looking for you. Do you think we could talk?”

“About what?” You played dumb and took a long sip of your drink. Tom kicked some gravel on the ground and kept his eyes down.

“Us.”

“Is it really a good time? My blood is like 70% red sauce right now.” You groaned and patted your full stomach.

“When else? You don’t return any of my calls.” Tom said without looking in your eyes. You could hear how upset he was over that you felt bad for ignoring him for so long.

“Because we broke up. People who break up aren’t supposed to talk.” You said gently.

“But we weren’t supposed to break up.“ he insisted and looked up at you.

“How can you say that when you’re the one who broke up with me?”

“It was a mistake. I just blurted that out during the fight. I was frustrated from the terrible day I had so I took it out on you. I never meant to say I wanted to break up.”

“But you did.“ You reminded him. “I don’t care how frustrated you were. I never would’ve said that to you.”

“I know.” He sighed. “And believe me, I’ve wished I could take it back from the second it left my lips.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “It just fell out of my mouth.”

“Because you don’t have any lips to stop it?” You asked with a coy smile. Tom looked at you in surprise and could tell you felt proud of that one.

“That kinda sounded like you forgiving me.” He smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get back into a family that can produce meatballs like this.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. You could feel Tom staring at you so you kept your eyes out on the London skyline.

“Why’d you come tonight?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I told you. Your mom invited me. And I wanted to support Sam.”

“Support Sam doing what, though?” Tom genuinely wondered. “What is party even for? Sam just told me I had to come. I don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“I honestly don’t know either.” You admitted. “Your mom just told me Sam was having a party and making meatballs. I’ve been trying to figure out if it was a birthday or graduation from the decorations but they’re too vague. I’m just avoiding Sam so he doesn’t figure out that I don’t know what this event is for.”

“Maybe it’s just a meatball party.” Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed softly and finally looked at him. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Whatever had started the fight was long gone from your memory. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to get back to how you used to be.

“I knew you were gonna be here today.” You confessed. “That’s why I showed up.”

“Really?” Tom asked and took a step closer to you.

“Really. I just didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Tom asked and got even closer.

“The ‘I really miss you even though you’re a massive dingus who doesn’t deserve me’ conversation.” You said with a sheepish smile. Tom smiled in return and moved some hair off your face.

“I am a massive dingus.” He agreed. “And I don’t deserve you.”

“I already established that.”

“But what was that? Did I catch you saying you miss me?” He asked playfully and cupped his ear. You rolled your eyes and stepped into his arms to hug him.

“Of course I do. All the photographers I’ve been sleeping with made me miss what we had.” You said against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.” He sighed happily. “Wait, what that now?”

“I’m kidding. Kind of. Can we make up now?” You asked and pulled out of the hug just enough to look at him. Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss you for the first time in weeks. It felt like you were picking right back up where you left off as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“That was a joke right?” He laughed once you pulled out of the kiss. Your eyes darted to the side as you pulled out of the embrace.

“We should go inside.”You changed the subject. “I just have to get some more of those meatballs.”

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@hallecarey1 @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[blushweddinggowns]

When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 

And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 

Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.

And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 

She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”

“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 

But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”

He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 

“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 

Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.

She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 

Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 

He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”

He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”

Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”

“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?

But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”

Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 

Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”

They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 

He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”

Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 

Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.

“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”

Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 

They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 

Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.

It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 

When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 

She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.

For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 

~

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3

From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)

[queenimmadolla]

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son. 

  Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.

  Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.

  “Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt. 

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”

  “Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.” 

  “I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.

  Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise. 

  Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving. 

  “Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food. 

  “With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed. 

  The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs. 

  You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.

  “You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’

  “—I don’t snore.”

  “—And looking like you were in a coma.”

  Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.

  “Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.

  “Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”

  You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head. 

  You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”

  Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering. 

  Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose. 

  You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”

  Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed. 

  “Eat.”

  He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster. 

  While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.

  You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.

  And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.

  When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow. 

  “He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.

  He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.

  “Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”

  “You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.

  “You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”

  He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”

  You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.

  He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted. 

  “Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you. 

  “Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.

  “You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.” 

  Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.

  “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”

  The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.

  “You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”

  Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.

  He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love. 

  It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion. 

  The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really. 

  Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.

  For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.

  You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.

  It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.

  Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room. 

  He held you in your bed while you both cried. 

  And cried.

  And cried.

  Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you. 

  When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.

  “Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.

  “Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.

  “Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”

  Halle-freaking-lujah. 

  Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.

  “I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”

  Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.

  “I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”

  The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.

  “Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”

  Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.

  You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.

  Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.

  Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes. 

  When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him. 

  “My little baby potatoes.”

  “He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”

  “I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”

  “Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore. 

  “Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”

  Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”

  “Pomise?”

  “I promise.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”

  “Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”

  Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of  the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.

  Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.

  Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways. 

  Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.

  After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.

  It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged. 

  You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit. 

  Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.

  Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you. 

  “What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.

  You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well. 

  “Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”

  The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her. 

  You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time. 

  It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.

  GOOD.

  On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.

  “Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.

  It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been. 

  Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat. 

  “Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”

  “I wanna see ‘em!”

  “You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out. 

  Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head. 

  Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one. 

  “You wanna hold him?”

  “Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.

  “Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.

  “‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”

  “Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.

  “He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”

  Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”

  “Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”

  “I heard you, his name is Wayne.”

  Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.

  “Wha—?”

  “His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”

  Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. 

  “‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times. 

  “I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.

  “When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”

  Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him. 

  Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete. 

  “So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”

  Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line. 

  Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”

  Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy. 

  Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”

  “Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”

  “Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.

  “Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”

  “No, Penny.”

  After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.

  You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.

  On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show. 

  “Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention. 

The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

[proxima-writes]

the last great american dynasty

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.8k (whoops)

summary:

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up.

He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream

author's note:

inspo board this work is inspired by taylor swift's song "the last great american dynasty" and is part of the folklore album anthology! if you enjoy, please consider reblogging/commenting and make sure to check out the other works by the amazing collaborators on this project.

tags/warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, work contains journal entries as part of the plot, porn with plot, pre-outbreak!joel, grandma is a named OFC, sassy reader, dirty talk, teasing, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paint as a flirting mechanism, mild enemies to lovers, pet names. let me know if there are any missing!

August 20, 1948

I have arrived in Texas. I am uncertain where to go or what to do. For so long I’ve answered only to George, but now I am my own woman and the world before me has suddenly become much bigger, seemingly overnight.

I just hope it will be good for me.

-R

PRESENT DAY

If there’s one thing you never expected, it’s to inherit a mansion from a grandmother that you’ve never spoken to. As far as you were aware that kind of thing only happened in movies, so receiving a phone call from an estate lawyer that had been trying to locate you for a whole year since this mystery woman’s passing was a complete shock.

Now you find yourself with a car full of your belongings driving cross country to a sleepy suburb of Austin, Texas. The first stop is the lawyer’s office, where a secretary eyes you warily as you sit in the lobby of the lush office suite, fingers toying with a loose thread on the t-shirt you’d been wearing for the last eight-hour leg of your road trip.

A voice calls your name from a door just past the secretary’s desk, an older man with white hair and a deeply wrinkled face smiling kindly at you. You stand, shaking his hand as you pass by him into his office. He gestures to the wingback chairs that face his impressive dark wood desk. You take in the diplomas on the wall and the floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with thick, leather bound tomes. 

“I appreciate you comin’ all the way out here so quickly. You were quite the tough one to find,” the man says with a chuckle. He pulls out a thick envelope, cream colored with swooping, swirling handwriting across the front reading your name. “Your grandmother was a dear friend of mine. She established a trust in your name not long after you were born.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still a little confused. I didn’t even know I had a grandmother,” you admit quietly. He nods solemnly. 

“She never told me all the details, but there had been a falling out between her and her daughter. They kept their distance after that.” When you don’t say anything, mind too busy racing with the questions that you suppose only your mom can answer now, he continues. “Would you like the review the details of the trust?”

“Um, sure. I guess that’s why I’m here, after all.”

He slips a piece of paper from the folder, sliding it across the desk. The same swirling handwriting fills the page.

My Dearest,

You may not know me, but I’ve watched you grow in photographs and letters since you were born. You mean the world to me, even if I could not fit in the world that your mother created for you. I respected that choice, hurt though it may have.  She had her own path to forge, just as I did, and just as you will. I am eternally grateful for the parts of her life she did share after she left.  

In the event of my passing, I leave my estate to you in its entirety. I built my true happiness in those walls, and I hope you can do the same.

-R

You read the letter twice, eyes stinging with tears. A tissue box slides across the desk, and you pluck two sheets out gratefully. 

“In this envelope are the more official documents. The deed transfer that will need your signature, beneficiary statements for her banking and savings accounts, things like that. My office will handle all the paperwork filing,” the man says. A few more forms are laid out on the desk, and you lean forward to read them. 

“Holy shit,” you snap, eyes wide as you swipe the beneficiary statement from the wood. “There must be too many zeroes in this, right? Or a rogue comma? That can’t be the right amount.”

“I assure you that’s the correct amount,” he says with a laugh. “And if you’ll sign down there, it’ll be transferred to your name and designated account.”

Your mouth goes dry as you read through the rest of the documents. In addition to the sizeable amount of money about to hit your bank account, there’s a five-bedroom house being transferred into your name, as well as a safety deposit box. You sign each form where directed, sliding them back over to the lawyer. 

“I believe this is yours,” he says, holding a house key out to you. He drops it into your open palm. “Good luck.”

“I wish they would just put that place up for sale already,” Joel grumbles from the passenger seat of his brother’s truck as they drive by the out-of-place 1920s Victorian home on their way to a job site. 

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past year since that poor old woman passed,” Tommy says with a laugh. “Give it up, brother. Your dream house is just goin’ to rot away before your eyes.”

“Don’t you say that,” Joel replies. He doesn’t need Tommy speaking his fear into the universe. 

The house has already been showing signs of falling apart in the last ten years Joel has lived in the neighborhood. The roof needs work, the shutters need replacing, the lawn is overgrown, and there’s a sizable hole in the wrap-around porch that seems to get bigger over time.

He’s wanted that house since the first time he saw it while he was house hunting ten years ago, a then three-year-old Sarah on his hip as he toured a nice little house that was available in the neighborhood at the time. While the home he’s built with his daughter through long days of hard work is nothing to scoff at, he’s always dreamed of something with more character and story. 

He just hopes he’ll get his chance.

You stare up at the old house in front of you, shielding your eyes from the late afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful house, though there’s no denying its seen better days – two stories with large bay windows on both floors, white wood siding and chipped red shutters that are clinging to their rusty hardware, a large wrap around porch that has vines encroaching on the banisters, a lawn overgrown with weeds. You tentatively climb the steps of the porch, peeking nervously into the large hole in the wood to the left of the front door.

“That’s private property,” a gruff voice calls out, making you jump. You turn, finding a man standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You ain’t supposed to be snoopin’ around.”

“Actually—”

“Why don’t you just head home, sweetheart, and I won’t have to call the cops,” the stranger says, cutting you off. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“This is—”

The man huffs, arms dropping as he digs in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a cell phone. “Seriously, I’ll give you until the count of three. We don’t need trouble around this neighborhood, alright?”

The nerve, you think, narrowing your eyes at the man. Since he clearly doesn’t want to hear what you have to say, you decide to take a different route. You reach into the pocket of your shorts, pulling out the key that the lawyer had given you earlier that day. You take a sideways step closer to the door, keeping your eyes on the man as you pointedly insert the key into the lock and opening the heavy wood door.

His mouth drops open in surprise and you smile at him.

“You were saying?”

Joel had seen the car parked in the driveway of the empty house when Tommy dropped him off after work. He’d quickly checked on Sarah, newly thirteen and fiercely independent, finding her working on her homework at the kitchen table, before making his way across the street. 

He hadn’t expected to find a gorgeous woman snooping around the old house, curves hugged in denim shorts and a tank top that made his mouth water. He also hadn’t expected the woman to produce a key from the pocket of those sinfully tight shorts.

“You were saying?” You ask, lips curved in a smirk and eyebrows raised at him. When Joel doesn’t immediately reply, still too stunned that you have access to the house, you turn and walk through the door, shutting it behind you. 

He finally shakes himself of his shock, bounding up the steps and knocking on the door. You pull it back open.

“I’ll buy it from you,” Joel says immediately.

“Excuse me?” You reply, your hands moving to your hips. “It’s not for sale.”

“Come on, what’s a girl like you need all this space for?” Your mouth drops open, pretty lips stretched wide in surprise and Joel struggles to keep his thoughts from drifting to sinful places. 

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re young, that’s all. You don���t need a house this big and this much of a project!”

“What makes you think I don’t have a big ol’ family I’m moving in here? Four kids and a loving husband?!”

Joel blinks. “You got four kids and a lovin’ husband?”

“No, but that’s besides the point.” You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger at his chest. “It’s not for sale. Now get off my porch before I call the cops on you.”

With that final word, the door shuts in Joel’s face again, the sound of your retreating footsteps signaling the end of the discussion.

November 12, 1948

There’s a gentleman who comes into the diner every Tuesday. He always sits in one of my booths, with his perfect hair and suit and handsome face distracting me until he leaves. Some of the other waitresses try talking to him but he doesn’t pay them any mind. They’ve whispered to me before that he comes from money - oil, or something, not that it matters. 

His name is William, and I think he’s trying to steal my heart.

-R

“So, let me get this straight. First, you threatened to call the police on this woman. Then, rather than introducin’ yourself or welcomin’ her to the neighborhood or even apologizin’, you just go straight to tellin’ her she doesn’t need a house that big and that you wanna buy it from her. Did I hear that right?” Tommy says, watching Joel as he throws together dinner the following evening. 

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Sarah says. Joel huffs.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He sips his beer as his daughter and brother share a look. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothin’,” they say in tandem. Joel narrows his eyes as Sarah breaks out in giggles. Tommy stands, heading to Joel’s pantry and rifling through the shelves until he finds an unopened bottle of whiskey buried in the back.

“What are you doin’ with that?” Joel asks. 

“Welcomin’ your new neighbor like the gentleman I am. Sarah, watch the pasta while I show your dad how it’s done,” Tommy replies, heading for the front door, Joel trailing behind him. 

Tommy crosses the street with quick steps, eyeing the porch dubiously as he knocks on the door. Joel stands beside him, hands shoved in his pockets as he curses under his breath about his brother’s stupid antics.

You open the door, dressed this time in a pretty sundress that makes Joel’s mouth go dry. Tommy flashes you a grin and Joel can’t help the annoyance he feels when his brother’s eyes trail over your body.

“Hey there! I’m Tommy Miller, you may have met my dumbass brother over here the other day. I’m certain he didn’t make the best impression, so I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding the whiskey out to you. 

You introduce yourself, ignoring Joel. “Thank you so much, Tommy. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure thing,” his traitorous brother replies, stepping over the threshold. When Joel makes a move to follow, you give him a pointed look before shutting the door in his face. 

“You want a beer, Tommy?” You ask the handsome man in your kitchen. You can’t help but be impressed by the genetics of the Miller family, both men tall and tan and handsome as hell. Sure, one of them could use a lesson on manners, but you’ll admit that since your confrontation your mind has drifted to thoughts of brown eyes and soft dark hair that belong to the brother you left on the porch out of spite.

“Yes, please,” Tommy says politely. You open the dated refrigerator and grab two beer bottles, popping the caps against the countertop and handing one to him. “This sure is a nice place.”

“Thanks. I just inherited it from my grandma,” you explain. “It’s a little…dated.”

He chuckles. “We call it ‘character’ in contractin’.”

“That what you guys do, then? Contracting?”

“Sure is. Miller Brothers Contracting and Construction.” Tommy scratches at the label on the bottle before saying, “Look, I know my brother can come off the wrong way. He didn’t get the social genes. But he’s a good guy, and he’s loved this house since the first time he saw it. Always wanted to buy it, fix it up, raise his little girl here. Maybe add to his family one day.”

You look around the rundown kitchen. You’ve only been here a day and you know you’ve got your work cut out for you. The electrical and plumbing are all outdated, the appliances need replacing, the floors need to be refurbished, and that’s just the first floor. You could use some help with it all, and maybe the grumpy contractor next door who cares about the house could help you with it all.

“I appreciate that he loves the house but…I never met my grandma. Never even knew who she was or that she was even alive, and it’s the only connection I have to her. I don’t know if this is going to be my forever but…I want to at least give it a shot.”

Tommy smiles. “We could help with that.”

It feels like ages before Tommy’s stepping back out onto the porch, a beer in his hand that makes Joel frown.

“Y’all were havin’ drinks while I sat out here like an ass?” He asks incredulously. Tommy throws an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Yes, and if you don’t quit your whinin’ I’m not goin’ to tell you about our lovely conversation,” the younger man says as he walks with Joel back to his house.

In the kitchen, Sarah is pouring the pasta sauce and ground beef over the noodles. Joel takes over and waves her away, mumbling his thanks as he mixes the ingredients together. He sets up two plates, setting one in front of his daughter and sitting down with the other. Tommy makes an affronted sound before fixing his own plate.

“So?” Joel asks. Tommy slurps at his food.

“Was the lady nice?” Sarah asks.

“No,” Joel replies at the same time Tommy says, “Yes.” 

Joel glares at Tommy. “You gonna tell me what she said or what?”

“She ain’t sellin’,” Tommy finally says. “But, she wants to fix the place up. Offered our services so you could get your grubby fuckin’ hands in there.”

“Language,” Joel says, eyes flicking to Sarah. The girl rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“Yep. Better start callin’ the guys. From what I saw we’re dealin’ with electrical from the 50s, plumbing from who knows when, not to mention the HVAC and roof will need to be upgraded, too.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before grinning at Joel. “You up for the challenge?”

“Hell yeah.”

August 23, 1949

William and I have just been married.

I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. But he is truly the light of my life.

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. I’m still not abreast of all these new societal expectations that surround a man like William, but I’m willing to try. Today he will be taking me around to view houses in the more opulent neighborhoods, the type of homes I used to gawk at but one of them will be mine.

I must be dreaming.

-R

Joel and Tommy start working on the house right away. Every day there’s a line of pick-up trucks parked on the curb and the sounds of construction start early in the morning and continue into the late evening. The electrician and plumber come through first, updating the wiring and pipes through the whole house. The roofers and HVAC come through next, replacing the crumbling shingles and dated central unit with a split system for each level of the house.

It’s not until the big projects are done that you get to have fun with the place, which is how you found yourself methodically painting the front door a muted lime green early one morning. 

“What do you think you’re doin’?” 

You sigh. Despite Tommy’s assurances that Joel is a great guy beneath the grumpy control freak exterior, you’ve continued to only get the side of the man that grates your nerves.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m painting the door.”

“You can’t paint the door that color,” Joel says, heavy footsteps stomping up your newly repaired porch. 

“Says who?” You retort. You smear another stroke of paint over the sanded wood.

“Me, for one. The historical society, for two.” He pulls the brush from your hand and holds it above his head and out of your reach. The movement drags his shirt up, exposing a strip of tan belly with a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans.  “Why are you bein’ a pain in the ass?”

“I was put on this earth simply to make your life more difficult, Joel Miller. Isn’t that obvious?” You reply sarcastically. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like you got that right. “What are you even doing over here? It’s Saturday.”

“We’re goin’ to the store. You gotta start pickin’ stuff out for the bathrooms and kitchen,” he says, tossing the paint brush into the tray. “And then we’re gettin’ a new color to cover this up.”

Joel leaves the porch and you follow behind him to the black pick-up truck idling by the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and you raise your eyebrow at the gesture but climb inside.

January 3, 1950

Our New Year’s party is the talk of the town. There were so many people in the house I began to lose count. William had so much champagne ordered I swear we could fill an entire swimming pool with it all. 

The ladies at the club have already begun to ask when we would host our next event. I can’t wait to plan another.

-R

“Can you please focus?” Joel begs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He’s laid out three tile combinations, one for each bathroom in the home, and he needs you to look at them but you keep getting distracted.

“You’re no fun,” you huff. You examine the tiles, pointing to a turquoise blue one he’s picked for the shower in the master. “I love that.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. She can be reasoned with.”

You giggle and Joel can’t help the smile it prompts from him, the sound of your laugh so sweet compared to your sharp tongue. 

“I like the white and blue combinations for upstairs, but in that powder room I want a pink theme,” you tell him. Your eyes search the displays, landing on a blush pink glass subway tile option. “Like this!”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Joel replies without thinking, taking the sample from you and comparing it next to the floor tile he’d chosen for that bathroom. When he glances at you, you’re giving him a confused look. “What?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shaking your head. “What about the kitchen?”

“What were you thinking for in there?”

“Green cabinets. White and black backsplash, the kind with the little hexagons that look like flowers. I gotta pick out appliances now that the electrical can sustain newer ones, too.” You pause. “And how do you feel about wallpaper?”

“It’s the devil,” Joel replies.

Your grin is downright mischievous. “Excellent.”

February 2, 1956

William had a heart attack. It scared me so badly that I haven’t let him out of my sight since. The doctor said he’s been working too hard, drinking too much, and not sleeping enough. Maybe the parties have started to be too much for him. 

I’ve been feeling unlike myself. Tired, nauseated. Hopefully my heart isn’t troubled, too.

-R

Joel places a hefty order for all the items you’ve picked out today from nearly every aisle of the store - tile for the bathrooms and kitchen, vanities and plumbing fixtures, countertops, lighting, and appliances. While he’s preoccupied with calculations and measurements and pricing things out, you pick out paint and wallpaper for the projects you’ll be able to do on your own.

He finds you a while later, a cart full of paint buckets and supplies. To your surprise, he grins. 

“More paint, huh? You pick a new one for the door?” He asks. You smile back at him, butterflies erupting in your tummy. 

“Yep. Does navy blue suffice, your highness? I thought we could paint the trim the same color.”

Joel nods. “Good choice. Look, I’ve kept you here so long for all the orderin’. You wanna get lunch?”

“Careful, Joel. I’m like a stray cat - once you start feeding me, I might never leave,” you reply with a laugh. You push your heavy cart of paint towards the exit.

You miss the soft smile he gives to your retreating figure.

September 23, 1956

Our daughter is here. She’s the sweetest little thing, though she can screech like a banshee when she sees fit. William is so besotted, he keeps looking between the two of us with stars in his eyes like he can’t believe how lucky he is.

I love them both with my whole heart and soul.

-R

Joel takes you to a retro family diner with black-and-white checkerboard flooring and red vinyl accents with a vintage jukebox in the corner. You’re delighted by the themed menu, eyes immediately zeroing in on the classic malt shakes and french fries. 

Over lunch, Joel actually opens up to you. He tells you about going into construction right out of high school and dragging Tommy into it when he’d gotten back from serving his tour with the Army. He talks about his daughter, Sarah, and you can’t help the smile that stretches your lips as you watch his eyes light up while he talks about his little girl. She’s at a sleepover this weekend, which gave him the extra time to visit the home improvement store this morning.

In turn, you tell him about getting the call from the lawyer one afternoon that changed your life forever. How you’d packed up everything you owned and driven across the country to find out that you had a grandmother that your mother never told you about that left you her entire estate. 

“Wow. That’s…wow,” Joel says when you’ve paused to take a sip of your chocolate shake. 

“Excuse me?” A voice asks. You both look up at the elderly woman dressed in a  t-shirt with the restaurant’s logo and pressed slacks. She smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and ever since you sat down I’ve been wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to place your face and it’s just hit me.”

She holds out a framed black and white photo of six waitresses standing beneath the same sign that’s still out front, all of them grinning at the camera. There’s one face, however, that looks familiar despite you never having seen her.

“Her name was Rebecca. We used to work together. That’s me, right there,” she says, pointing to the girl standing to the woman’s left. “Rolled up to town at eighteen, fresh off a divorce and hardly a penny to her name. My daddy, god rest his soul, he owned the restaurant and gave her a job when she’d come through lookin’ for work.”

“Wow,” you murmur. “This is insane. Do you have any other pictures?”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “‘Fraid not, darlin’. Just the one. But I know she kept a lot of journals. Was always scribblin’ in one and spent what little extra cash she had makin’ sure she had a new notebook ready. Maybe they’re still around?”

July 16, 1958

William…

William is gone. My light, my love, my world. The doctor said his heart just…stopped. In his sleep, right beside me. 

I have to continue to live with a hole in my own heart, the piece that William stole years ago gone with him. 

But I have to be strong for our daughter. Our brave girl, my little bird.

-R

When Joel brings you back to the house, you stare up at the facade, wondering if the journals the woman had spoken about could still be inside. Lost in thought, your eyes land on the little window that sits above the bay windows on the second floor, where the master bedroom is. You’ve been sleeping in that room for months now and you know there’s no window there that you can see from the inside. 

“Hey, Joel?” You call out, eyes still fixed on the little window like it might disappear if you look away. “This place is only two stories. How come there’s a window there?”

He looks up at the roof. “Huh. Might be decorative?”

“Or it might be a secret room,” you tell him.

“Okay, Sherlock. Let’s go see.”

You lead him upstairs to the master bedroom, most of your grandma’s furniture still present save for the bed that you replaced upon arriving. You stare up at the ceiling, but it’s smooth - no trap doors to be found.

“If I were a secret door, where would I hide?” You ask.

Joel, who’d been poking his head into the walk-in closet, replies, “Probably the closet.”

There’s a creak of old hinges as Joel reaches up high and tugs the brass pull handle fixed in the ceiling. A descending ladder falls to the ground and you both stare at each other in surprise.

“I’ll go grab a flashlight,” Joel offers, sprinting from the room. You stare up at the hole in the ceiling, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

He returns quickly. “I’ll go up first.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you tease, watching as he ascends the ladder, your eyes shamelessly fixed to his ass as he climbs. You hear the click of the flashlight and see the sweep of the beam through the opening in the ceiling. “Anything?”

“Lots of suitcases. Hang on, let me grab one of the small ones,” he calls down. There’s the sound of something being dragged across the floor before he’s slowly lowering a leather suitcase into your hands. 

It’s surprisingly heavy and you drag it by the handle to the bedroom, kneeling on the ground to pop the latches and open the dusty lid. Inside are stacks of leather bound notebooks, edges of the pages yellow with age. 

“I’ll be damned,” Joel says, wiping his palms against his jeans. “We found the journals.”

Joel drags the suitcase downstairs, setting it in the living room for you while you order pizza and open a bottle of wine for the occasion. You sit beside each other on the couch and he hands you a journal that you carefully open. 

May 17, 1974

We had another argument last night. She claims that I’ve been too overbearing, too protective, too stifling, but what else is a mother meant to do? 

-R

May 18, 1974

Her bed was cold and empty this morning. Her piggy bank smashed to bits on the floor and her drawers cleared. Despite my tight grip, my little bird has flown away.

It appears that history does repeat itself. Imagine that.

-R

“Holy shit,” you say, sitting back on the couch with your glass of wine in one hand and one of your grandma’s journals in the other. “She ran away.”

“Who did?” Joel asks, biting into a slice of pizza. 

“My mom. She just…packed up and disappeared.” You glance at him. “Guess that’s why I never knew about her.”

“Maybe you should stop uncoverin’ dark family secrets for the night,” Joel suggests. “You know, the dining room could stand to be painted.”

You glance over to the room in question. Joel must have set down the drop cloth on the floor while you’d been engrossed in your discovery.

“Sure. Why not,” you acquiesce. 

October 29, 1976

I’ve received an envelope of photographs in the mail, pictures of my daughter holding a little baby. She’s written notes on the back of each one. I’m a grandmother.

My daughter looks happy. Healthy. That’s all I can ask. She didn’t provide a return address. 

As for the baby…I love her so much. She takes my breath away. I keep one of the photos on me at all times.

-R

Joel turns on the radio while he works, humming along to the classic rock station selections. He’s been working on painting the wall near the wood molding while he left you with a paint roller to cover the middle of the wall. He looks up at you occasionally, admiring the way your muscles work as you wash the wall with color. 

You must sense that he’s watching, turning your head over your shoulder and looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. You smile at him, setting the roller in the tray. He can’t help but look at your ass in your tight leggings as you bend over.

You straighten up, walking over to him. There’s a glint in your eye that has Joel on high alert.

“You got a little something on your face,” you tell him. 

“No, I don’t,” he counters. He’s a master at painting. He knows damn well he doesn’t have a drop on him.

“Yeah, you do,” you argue. You reach out, and your fingers smooth across his forehead. “Right there!”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise and he lets out a bark of laughter, bringing his fingers up to his forehead. When he pulls his hand away, they’re stained blue and you’re grinning at him like a mad woman.

“Yeah? Well, you got some right—“ He smears his paintbrush across your chest and you try to step back, but it’s too late. “—there,” he finishes.

You rush back to the paint tray and dip your hands in the liquid, brandishing your palms like weapons. He starts to advance on you, smirking as you back up.

“Stay back,” you command. Joel laughs, dodging your swinging arms as he charges, dropping low to press a shoulder into your belly, dragging you down to the ground in a heap of limbs.

He presses his body to yours as he reaches an arm out to the paint tray, covering his own hand in paint. Your eyes go wide and you squirm beneath him, your paint covered palms reaching up under his shirt to press the cold liquid to his ribs. He flinches away, giving you enough room to scramble out from under him.

Joel grabs your arm, paint smearing on your skin as he tugs you back down. You wrestle together, paint getting everywhere as he lets you straddle his waist. His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing tightly as he stares up into your face.

“You win,” he murmurs, voice low. Your lashes flutter, hips canting over the obvious bulge in his jeans. He groans, hands urging you to do it again.

“What’s my prize?” 

Joel slips his fingers beneath the hem of your tank top, dragging the paint stained material up and over your head and tossing it aside. His gaze burns across your newly exposed skin.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He says, a hand sliding up your belly to palm one of your breasts. Your head drops back as you moan. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as his eyes grow darker, his gaze more heated. “Come on, Miller. What’s my prize?”

With a growl Joel sits up, wrapping an arm around your low back and twisting your bodies until you’re on your back, staring up at him as his lips stretch in a devious smirk. His fingers curl into the waistband of your leggings, sliding the fabric down your legs. His touch paints your skin blue as he does.

His hands press your thighs apart, opening you up. Your cheeks heat as he stares down at you like he’s trying to commit every curve of you to his memory. Finally, he leans in and you can feel his breath ghosting over your heated flesh.

Joel’s tongue traces through your slick folds, a broad stroke that has you gasping and arching your back. He hums against your sensitive flesh as he repeats the languid motion, his stubble catching on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You reach your hands down to tangle in his hair, paint catching on the strands as you tug and pull. He groans against you, tongue moving faster as he circles your clit before pulling it between his lips. A hand leaves your thigh, the one not coated in paint, and two thick fingers press to your entrance, sliding inside of you as you gasp out Joel’s name.

“Christ,” he groans as he presses in deep before withdrawing slowly, curling his digits against your front wall, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, pretty girl. That for me?”

“Uh huh,” you reply, breathless as you work your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Joel watches you, his lips and chin shiny from his efforts. “Joel, please!”

“Please what?” His hand moves faster, fingers pressing harder as his lips spread in a lascivious grin that makes your toes curl. “Come on, baby, ask me real nice and I’ll give you anythin’. Ain’t that right? You know damn well you’ve had me wrapped around your sassy little finger since the moment we met, don’t you?”

You whine, nodding your head quickly. “Knew you were a glutton for punishment.”

“Could say that again,” he says, chuckling as he lands a smash to the outside of your thigh with his free hand. “Now, come on, baby. Follow directions. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna cum, Joel. Please!”

“Good girl,” he growls, lowering his lips to your pussy to lick at your clit. He hums as he lavishes the sensitive bud with attention and it’s the final push you need over the razor's edge you’d been teetering on since he started. You press your thighs against his head as your nerves light up and your muscles go tight with pleasure, his movements slowing as he works you through your release.

Your muscles go limp, head dropping back to the floor with a thunk. Joel sits up, crawling up your body and trailing kisses across your tummy and chest in the patches of skin not covered by paint. He grips your chin, holding you steady as his lips press to yours in a kiss so deep you worry you’re at risk of drowning.

Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the leather free of the loops in a frenzy. He stands quickly, freeing himself of his jeans and boxers in one motion before reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off while you admire his labor-toned body.

Joel drops to his knees, pressing his hips to yours and dragging the thick head of his cock through your sensitive pussy, bumping your clit and making you both groan in tandem. His forearms rest on the floor beside your head as he teases you like this, slow drags of his length through your wetness, the tantalizing catch of him at your aching hole. You tilt your hips slightly, hoping he gets the hint, and he chuckles.

“You know the drill, baby,” he says, breathless with his own desire. “Just say the word.”

“Fuck me, Joel, please.”

His cock slips inside of you with little resistance, the stretch of him making you gasp. His eyes remain fixed to yours as he bottoms out and you smile up at him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Joel gives a small, experimental thrust that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. He does it again, a sharper snap of his hips making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulder. He builds his own rhythm, one that has your hips chasing his on every pull from your body, one that has you chanting his name and staring up at him like he’s a god and you’re simply a sacrifice on his altar. 

He sits back on his heels, the angle changing as your hips get lifted onto his lap. His hands wrap around your waist, fingertips pressing tightly to your ribs as he uses your body for his pleasure, pounding into you roughly.

“Cum for me again,” he demands, bringing a thumb to your clit in quick circles. “Come on, sweetheart, want you to cum on my cock. Was so pretty on my fingers.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the near overstimulation but you nod, wanting to give this man whatever he wants if it means he’ll keep touching you, holding you, looking at you. 

You cum again with a shout of his name and he groans, deep and visceral as he presses in deep, holding your hips to his as his cock pulses inside of you with his release.

Joel slowly lowers your hips to the ground, withdrawing from your body as he does. He flops gracelessly to the floor beside you, sweat damp chest heaving with exertion. His head turns to yours, grin wide and eyes bright.

“You’re covered in paint,” he comments, reaching out to run his hand across a streak on your collarbone.

“So are you,” you reply, mimicking the gesture against his ribs. 

“What do you say to a shower?”

You smirk at him before jumping up and racing to the doorway. 

“I’d say last one there doesn’t get the hot water!”

You can hear his curse as you rush up the stairs, making it halfway before a strong arm wraps around you and stops you in your tracks, your laughter echoing through the house.

June 27, 1993

The neighborhood has changed so vastly. Much of the older homes have been torn down and replaced with less handsome architecture. The residents grow younger while I continue to age. Just last week a handsome young man and his darling daughter moved in down the street. He looks exhausted. I remember those days.

Not all the neighbors are lovely. Harold next door has an annoying dog that barks at all hours. He prances her around like a show pony, when she’s just a yappy little creature.

-R

ONE YEAR LATER

The house is finally finished. All the tile has been laid, everything has been painted, appliances delivered, holes repaired, fixtures installed, and wallpaper glued. You go downstairs for coffee in the morning, you take it to the parlor room you’ve made into a study. Floor to ceiling bookshelves display every journal you’d unearthed from the hiding place in the attic, each one read through cover to cover. 

When you finally told your mom about what you’d been up to, her surprise and hurt could be felt even through the phone. You mailed one of her mother’s journals to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said the next time you spoke. “So much time had passed and I didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken.”

You don’t begrudge her decisions. Your grandma left you her story, and through that you’ve been able to know her.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs precede Joel’s appearance in the study, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes half shut. He drops beside you on the couch, grabbing your coffee from your hands and taking a sip of it.

“Is it everything you’ve always wanted?” You ask him, tilting your head to his shoulder. You still remember the way he’d been desperate to buy the house from you and you laugh at how the world works, given that he now wakes up in bed beside you and is tasked with the lawn maintenance every weekend. He presses a kiss to your head. 

“It’s even better.”

June 29, 1993

I don’t think the dog will be bothering the neighborhood again anytime soon.

Turns out he doesn’t hold as much pride for the dog when she’s been dyed lime green.

Imagine that.

-R

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist!

[coveted-covey]

Word count: 2,161

Living near a beach all their life ideally would have made anyone develop a better immune system than most. 

There’s the warmth of the ever-loving sun, the salty ocean breeze, the fun things you could do on the beach. With that said, you really don’t know what got you bedridden since yesterday night.

*Ah-choo!!*

You quickly grab a tissue from your bedside table, bringing it to your face to blow your nose pitifully. A cough quickly follows suit, shaking your whole being. You gingerly toss the balled up tissue to the bin except that you miss it by a couple of feet. Head throbbing from the hard cough you just had, you huff in annoyance as you slather your hands with the hand sanitizer you have on you.

“Goddd, I hate being sick.”

That seems to be the cue for Mom to knock and come in with a tray of what you could only guess as chicken noodle soup, a glass of water, and medicine. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

You whine despite yourself. “Bad,” you try to sit up slowly when another sneeze hunches your upper body. “Ugh, very bad.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby,” she sets the tray on your bedside table then reaches out to feel your forehead using the back of her hand. She hums thoughtfully, “Still hasn’t gone down. Here, eat. The warm soup should make you feel better.” 

She adjusts the pillow behind you and you uncurl your back as she does so. “Where’s Ma?”

Your Mom sniffs and dabs fake tears from her eyes. “You look for Ma while I’m right here? You hurt my feelings, [Name].” 

The scowl you’re wearing must have worked (as much as a half-hearted scowl could) because she adds right after a small endearing sigh, “She had to go to work. You know that she’d have wanted to be here taking care of you instead of going to work, but I already took the day off. You’ll see her this afternoon, okay?” She fixes your hair and kisses your forehead softly.

“Okay. Thank you,” you try to clear your throat. “I’ll feed myself, Mom, no need to worry.” She laughs at that. 

With the food set up on the bed tray, she stands up then gestures to the door. “Then I’ll be outside if you need me.” 

You make a noncommittal sound then start spooning the soup to eat. It’s good. Warm and soothing. You are on your fifth spoonful when you hear the doorbell ring muffledly from the first floor. 

“Hi, Cove!” You hear your Mom’s voice greet the visitor. Your ears instantly perk up at that. Cove? There was a bit of a hushed discussion and then you hear the door close.

Did he leave? You pout at the thought. Maybe Mom made him leave because you're sick. You frown harder at that. But you want to see him…

The spoon is halfway to your mouth once again when you hear a soft knock from the other side of your door. “[Name]? It’s Cove.”

“C-Cove!” you almost choke at your words when a hack disrupts your speech. “Come” –a cough– “in–”

The door opens, your neighbor’s wavy eyebrows downturned as he surveys you.  “I’m here… Are you okay?”

You chuckle at that. “As okay as someone could be with their immunocytes fighting for their life.” 

He laughs airily, the mirth not quite reaching his eyes. “I heard that you were sick. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You look at your phone five steps away from your bed and he follows your gaze. “Something about my phone being literally out of my reach.” You turn to him, “How did you know I’m sick?”

“Liz.” 

“Oh– I may or may not have been complaining to her about wanting to see you but not being able to.” 

“Oh… I was actually almost sent away just now, but I also wanted to see you so I tried to convince your mom to let me stay.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Thanks for staying.”

“No problem.”

You blink at him, his gaze locked onto your eyes. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t quite place. Almost like–but maybe it’s just your fever making you see things–

“I’m sorry we can’t hang out,” you shift awkwardly. “Weren’t you planning on doing something today?”

He breaks off his gaze from you and moves to bring your desk chair beside your bed. “It’s alright. I-it’s not as fun without you around.”

You look down at the soup starting to cool off on your tray, feeling your cheeks become hotter for some reason. “...I see.” You bite your lip, still not looking up.

Cove sits on the chair and looks at the poster on the opposite wall. “You should probably finish the soup.” 

You regard him, a bit incredulous. “You gonna watch me eat?”

It’s then that you notice he’s not looking at you and that his ears and neck are redder than when he got sunburnt that one time he stubbornly did not put on sunscreen. That only happened once, in your younger years, and you never saw it happen again. Maybe he stayed too long outside before coming to your house. You open your mouth to speak when he responds: 

“Well, not watch watch, that would be weird–! I just thought it’d be nice to hang out here, for a bit, since you can’t go outside and all. And I don’t have to stay if you’d rather be alone; I totally understand–” he gestures wildly, and you feel your hand stretching out to his gesticulating hands.

“Calm down, Cove,” you laugh softly. “I want you here. I mean,” you clear your throat, “Yes, of course we can hang out. Though I’m kind of worried about you catching whatever I have right now.”

Your neighbor stills, looking fixedly at your hand touching his wrist. Then he looks up, seagreen eyes wavering a bit. Softly, he says, “I think I’ll be fine. I’ll stay.”

You grin at him, reluctantly letting go of his wrist. “So what were you doing before coming here?”

He smiles back, then regales you of stories about what he did earlier today as you finish up your chicken noodle soup and take your medicine.

~*~

You fell asleep.

Cove looks at your sleeping figure, seemingly deep in thought. He breathes out a laugh when you wrinkle your nose in your sleep. 

Cute. 

Huh, what?

Man, he should get it together.

He sighs, defeated. There’s something that’s been bothering him lately. 

It’s you. 

He can’t seem to stop thinking about you lately, and it’s driving him insane. 

He finds himself staring at you more. He blames it on how bright and captivating your smile is.

He finds himself itching to touch you more. But you’re best friends. You do touch platonically quite a lot. You hold hands when necessary. (When he helps you go up the poppy hill. When he helps you go down to the beach. When you go to town during the peak summer season and he doesn’t want to lose you in the not-quite-a-crowd crowd. Those are what he considers necessary.) And you do hug. Side hugs are quite normal in your friendship, but lately he does not seem to want to let go.

It’s you, on his mind, 24/7. He’s not sure for how much longer he can take it.

You shift in your sleep, kicking off your blanket. His mind stops whirring at that and stands up to gently put the blanket back over your exposed feet.

Inching his chair closer, he eyes your hand over the blanket and sighs again for the hundredth time in the past hour. 

He wants to hold your hand so bad.

But it’s just right there, open for the taking. He’s almost sure you wouldn’t mind him holding your hand, but doing it while you’re asleep and unaware is making him doubt that.

His hands tremble on his lap. 

He’s gonna do it.

His heart beats faster inside his ribcage and sweat beads on his neck. Slowly and steadily, he outstretches his hand until the pads of his fingers lightly touch the back of your hand. Gently, he flips your hand over then clasps your hand in his.

He wills his heart rate down then marvels at you.

Smiling to himself, he stands and leans down to press a light kiss on your temple.

“Feel better soon, [Name].”

With that soft get well soon wish, he sits back down, your hand in his hand.

Maybe one day he’ll be able to confess his feelings for you. And he’ll get to do it while you’re awake.

~*~

.

.

.

You blink blearily, seeing your bedroom walls shining with a bright orange-pink glow from your window. With a deep sigh, you look at the digital clock you have on your bedside table. It reads 5:37 PM.

Must’ve fallen asleep sometime after eating– And. 

Oh, right! Cove was here.

Your eyes look around, trying to get back to the waking world. Did he leave already?

That’s when you notice a weight on your hand, then you look to your side to see your neighbor, Cove James Holden, asleep, using one arm as a pillow as his other hand holding yours. His seagreen hair almost looked golden due to the sunset hues coming from the window behind him.

Like a moth to a flame, you can’t help but draw your other hand close to touch his hair. You’re about to pat his head when you feel his hand lightly grip the hand in his hold. “[Name]?”

You smile awkwardly at him, caught red handed. You clear your throat. “Uh, good evening?”

He grins at you drowsily, taking your other hand and letting it flop on his hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you smile softly. Better since you came here. 

“Hmm, that’s good,” he yawns. “Sorry, I fell asleep here.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

“Ha, you’re right,” he laughs, eyes shining as he beholds you. “[Name].”

“Hmm?” You continue stroking his now-golden hair, a soft smile on your face.

He looks at you seriously and you see the gears in his head turn and finally decide against what he initially planned. He shakes his head, looking down at your joined hands. “Sorry, it’s nothing.”

You nod sagely, then give him a light grin. “It’s okay… Feel free to tell me when you’re ready.”

“I will. When I’m ready.”

With hands comfortable in each other's, the both of you sit in contemplative silence; it's quiet but not uncomfortable. For a brief moment only the rolling waves from the beach and your soft breathing were the only sounds you can hear, then you ask,

“Hey, you did not use the window,” you tease.

He grins, gently pushing stray hair from your eyes, “You're practically bedridden, would you have opened it for me still?”

“Yes.”

Maybe it's because of the way you looked while you said it, or the fact that the answer quickly left your mouth, but your response startles a laugh out of Cove. “I figured. Which is why I didn't. Shouldn't disturb resting patients and all that.” He laughs fondly, adjusting his hold on your now sweating palms. He does not seem to want to let go despite that.

You pout. Is he making fun of you? 

“Sorry, I'm not making fun of you,” he lightly grins, his thumb rubbing at your hand soothingly. “I just really didn’t want to disturb you while you're resting.”

Your heart rate speeds up and your face heats up at his soft admission, leaving you no choice but to look away. God, you really, really hate being sick. Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, because why is he looking at you like that?

Him and his soft eyes and soft grin and soft hair and soft demeanor looking at you like he’s…

…

“What a charmer,” you mutter under your breath.

Your neighbor’s wavy eyebrows shoot up at that, “What?” His lips wobble into a startled frown and whines, “Hey, I was being serious you know.”

You sigh, then slowly shift yourself up. You do not miss the way Cove immediately stands to help you, his hand still holding yours. You take in the hold he has on you then at him as he settles back down once you’re comfortably sitting up.

“Cove.”

“Hmm?”

You laugh at the feeling of deja vu. Didn’t this happen just a few minutes earlier? You grin at him. “Nothing, I guess I’ll tell you when you’re ready to tell me what you were about to tell me earlier.” You lightly squeeze his hand in yours to tell him that you’re not making fun of him. 

It may be too soon, but you hope he tells you tomorrow when you’re fully recovered.

fic by @coveted-covey (2024).

a/n: slowly experimenting with formatting and stuff. i'm still not sure what i'm doing but i'm getting there! lol

[ludibriadormonoteista]

Slay the Dragon

Papa Arc: Son… The time has come. The infamous Yellow Dragon has been terrorizing our village for far too long.

Jaune: I hear you, father. I have been training my whole life for this.

Papa Arc: Indeed, you have. Take the family sword. You shall honor the oath you took and slay that foul creature.

Jaune: I will see that it is done, father. *Takes his leave*

Papa Arc: Now, hold on a minute. *Grabs his shoulder*

Jaune: Yes, father?

Papa Arc: Before you go, I want to make one thing very clear. I said Slay. Not Lay.

Jaune: …Yeah, I got it the first time.

Papa Arc: Slay, son. Not lay, not laid, not bang, not bed, not consummate, not taking her out for dinner. I want you to KILL that dragon.

Jaune: Father, I don’t-

Papa Arc: It’s a giant DRAGON for heaven’s sake. That monster is responsible for wiping out dozens of villages a year and has killed far more people than you will ever meet in your entire life. So PLEASE! Don’t waste your breath trying to woo that blasted creature!

Jaune: Dad, I’m seriously not gonna-

Papa Arc: I cannot stress how much we need that bitch dead, and the very last thing we need is for you to try and stick your dick in it!

Jaune: D-DAD!

Papa Arc: I want you to take this sword and plunge into the beast’s heart! Chop it into pieces if you must! Don’t stop until the life has left its eyes!

Jaune: ALRIGHT, GEESH! *Calms down* For the last time, I’m not gonna seduce the dragon or anything. I don’t even know where you got that idea from.

Papa Arc: I just want to make sure you understand what I’m saying.

Jaune: Father, I’m not one of those dragon-lovin’ degenerates from the southern islands, okay? You don’t have to worry about that.

Papa Arc: Glad to hear it. *Clears throat* Go forward, son. Make your ancestors proud.

Jaune: Yeah, yeah… *Finally leaves*

Papa Arc: Phew! Crisis averted. Ain’t that right, honey?

Mama Arc: It’s not gonna work, Nicky.

Papa Arc: What makes you say that?

Mama Arc: Take a good look. *Shows her dragon tail* I still can’t believe you convinced our son I’m a lizard Faunus.

Papa Arc: So what if I got lucky and got myself a wife because I couldn’t read instructions properly?! I could’ve been killed! I don’t want Jaune to make the same mistake and risk getting scorched to death.

Mama Arc: I don’t know, Taiyang’s spawn did seem very lonely last I checked. And that was 20 years ago.

Papa Arc: Well, then Taiyang’s spawn shall find plenty of companionship in the fiery pits of hell. For our boy Jaune will not rest until the Yellow Dragon’s life has been claimed by the sacred Crocea Mors-

[}}]

Yang: S’up, in-laws! I’ve been meaning to meet you guys. Huge fan of your work here. *Slaps Jaune’s back*

Jaune: *red* Yang, please…

Papa Arc: *Disgruntled noises*

Mama Arc: Oh, you must be our boy’s fiancé he wrote about. Come now sweetie, let me show you around the house.

Yang: You got it, mom! Can’t wait to meet my new sisters. Later, hubby~

Papa Arc: Jaune… What did I tell you?

Jaune: Tell me what?

Papa Arc: The thing we discussed? Before parting on your quest?

Jaune: What thing- Oh. Ooohhh……

Papa Arc: Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?

Jaune: *Hand on the back of his head* I guess it slipped out of my mind…?

Papa Arc: Oh, something did slip, alright.

Jaune: It-It’s nothing like that! It all happened so fast, and-! Look, she’s on the run from a whole evil cult or some shit and I wondered if you and mom could let her crash here for a few weeks.

Papa Arc: And you didn’t think the neighbors would suspect anything from the blond girl with dragon horns waltzing around our house?

Jaune: I don’t know, I just figured we could tell everyone she’s a Faunus. Just like mom.

Papa Arc: *Wincing* About that, son…

[cdyssey]

It's that tiny, baby goat named Bruce being brown and furry, like the pelt Shauna Shipman wrapped her dead baby in.

It's the fact that it's a boy goat too.

It's her immediate and irrational fear—upon even hearing the word sacrifice—that she's going to have to kill the kid. The goat. The baby. This precious, innocent life in her care. Because everything she loves gets taken away from her, doesn't it?

All her fault.

Every last bit of it.

She can't have anything that she doesn't eventually hurt.

(And yes, it's about Jackie. It's always about Jackie, even when she swears that it's not. Jackie, her first victim. Jackie, her first love.)

(She's wearing her shirt in this episode. She's wearing her life in this whole damn series.)

It's her sitting alone in the woods, disassociating, triggered by a goddamn goat, and it's her utter panic when she realizes that he's missing.

It's Misty telling her, “Well, you’re not that innocent either.”

And it's her so bitterly replying, “Do you think I don’t know that?” as she frantically searches for Bruce, yet another living creature that she thinks she’s failed.

It's the tenderness with which she holds him when she finds him again, mothering him so gently. She tells him—this goat—that he's delusional and dumb if he thinks she's gonna hold him all day, but then she fucking does it! She holds him! She cradles him to her chest like a baby, and it's so lovely.

But it's so, so sad too.

Because it's her pleading with the barn worker to make sure that the goat is okay; she doesn't trust her ability to take care of him; she'll fucking lose it if he gets hurt in her care.

And it's this guy robotically replying, "The kid’s care is entwined with your own." And it’s the way that Shauna's pupils immediately blow, and we intimately understand—well before she tells Lottie—that she's thinking about that baby in the woods.

And she's thinking about Callie.

And she's thinking that if this much is true—if her ability to care for herself is the metric by which she can care for a kid—then, of course, her children are so totally fucked.

With her as a mother, they were doomed from the very start.

(Relatedly, it’s Melanie Lynskey saying in an interview: “I don’t think Shauna’s really disappointed in people. I think she’s disappointed in herself. She takes things out on herself, and she just feels kind of fundamentally unlovable.”)

It’s her confrontation with Lottie, which is charged with their fraught and bloody past, by Lottie's obsession with the wilderness baby, by the dream where the baby is cannibalized, by Lottie's willingness to become both Shauna's punching bag and martyr.

It's the tears that run down her face as she says, as she confesses:

"I’m not crying about the goat. I don’t really know, um, what’s happening right now. Um, I think it’s just that I’ve always kept my daughter, you know, Callie, like, at arm’s length. I think just out of fear that she would… die, I guess. Or maybe that she was never even real to begin with. I don’t know. I try to tell myself it’s okay. That I’m safe to… to think of her as-as mine, you know, and to just be her mom. But I think something is broken, Lottie. I just can’t do it.

God, it’s how every line of this monologue is so fucking broken and raw. She told that bastard cop that she's just not very good at loving her daughter, and here is both the reason why and the brutal extent. In the woods, her baby died, but for just a brief moment, in the tantalizing spaces of that dream turned hellish nightmare, he lived. But then he died again; he was consumed; or was he?

No.

Abso-fucking-lutely-yes, but not in the way that Shauna could have ever conceived.

Because this is the idea that she can't think of Callie as her own when that first baby was never hers either.

Not really.

Our baby, Lottie had called him. He was their communal savior, their shining hope, their personal Jesus who didn’t live.

And Shauna's singular moment alone with him had been a cruel fantasy too.

It's her murderous rage at his death, the violence that such grief engenders in her, which in and of itself is an echo of Misty's Steel Magnolias monologue—the way she wants to hit someone until they feel as bad as they do.

It’s how she can't allow herself to love Callie completely because of her fundamental incapacity to discern reality from the nightmare. In the cabin, she accuses them all of killing her baby. Every goddamn day she fears that her daughter will die, if she even exists at all.

It's the panic in her eyes when she clutches the phone and asks Jeff if Callie is okay all the same.

Because that's her first instinct, her immediate assumption.

That something with her daughter is horribly wrong.

And that's the crux in the end, the horrible conclusion to all these frayed and tangled threads.

Something going wrong is the only reality that Shauna Shipman can ever reliably count upon. The entirety of her life is an open, gushing wound.

[f10werfae]

Wedding Labour

pairing: Dad!Husb!Henry x Doctor!Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: doctor reader goes into labor at her and Henry's wedding? The twitter reaction format please? (Requested by @stormcloudss )

requested are open/Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/purplepinkstain: YOYO Y/N JUST WENT INTO LABOUR RIGHT AFTER HER AND HENRY GOT TO KISS AT THEIR WEDDING, SHES BEING RUSHED TO HOSPITAL AS SAID BY THE PAPS

>> @/superstrongleo: Just saw the released pics of Henry carrying her to their bridal car, that man looks stressed tf out, I guess it’s a given as it’s their first baby😭😭

@/lesseraf: Their baby boy is deffo a Cavill, always interrupting and coming early to things😭😭

-

@/nornor: I hate how the paps first instinct was to completely violate the couple’s privacy by spamming the poor woman with camera flashes while she’s in literal labour. Wtaf is wrong with you guys?!

>> @/flawlessfrank: Tell me about it. Henry just released a statement that he’s taking legal action because of the stress it caused Y/n, I love how he made a whole 30 minute video explaining the consequences of what could have happened to his family

-

@/chrisevansgorl: Ok but that photo of Y/n posted by Henry where she’s holding their baby in a hospital bed in a hospital gown, BUT MISS GIRL STILL HAD HER WEDDING VEIL ON?! QUEEN SHIT ONLY!!!

-

@/DailyTelegram: BREAKING NEWS!! VERY newlywed Henry and Y/n Cavill, welcome their baby boy ON THEIR WEDDING DAY!

-

@/onedirectionsd: Now their wedding anniversary is their baby’s birthday🥹🥹

>> @/HenryCavill: Not as good as you think, no more anniversary holidays for us two

>>> @Henryfans334: PLEASE KING HE HAS ONLY BEEN BORN FOR ABOUT 3 DAYS GIVE THE WEE MAN A BREAK😭😭

-

@/thekingofkings: Henry’s mum’s post is so cute😍 The photo of Henry and Y/n cuddling in her hospital bed is the cutest thing ever, and their baby Charlie in the bassinet next to them

>> @/Y/nCavill: I kicked him out of the bed soon after, he’s a bed hogger of a husband

-

@/pinklemonade: omg the video of Henry scratching an itch that Y/n had while she’s breastfeeding has me pissing myself with laughter. It’s the way she was twisting and turning trying not to annoy Charlie while trying to itch her back, and Henry just pulls her closer by her waist and scratches her back under her shirt without even asking. Goals.

-

@/givemeadam: Henry is too fricking funny. Why is this man buying his newborn a Geralt cosplay already😭 Then has the audacity to say he looked better as Geralt

>> @/HenryCavill: Gotta prepare my little man for the harsh world out there

-

@/Hollycrisin: Nah because Y/n’s wedding dress got all bloody, that shit was branded expensive too

>> @/Y/nCavill: Tell me about it, it’s still at the dry cleaners 😭

-

@/galaxyrumbel: It’s crazy how good they jumped into parental roles for reall, Y/n is a complete supermom and Henry’s turned into the most overprotective beat

-

@/user183737379: I’m just glad her water broke after the actual ceremony, at least their wedding didn’t have to be postponed😀

>> @/asuper: i know i’m happy they got to say “i do” before the arrival

-

@/slinkyleopard: omg the leaked photos of Y/n and Henry's wedding photoshoot, THEY INCLUDED BABY CHARLIE AND KAL😭😍 The one photo of Charlie just laying on top of Kal while they’re both asleep, it’s everything I need in life

-

@/HenryCavill: Y/n and I want to come on here ourselves and say I will be taking a break from projects for the foreseeable future. This is to focus on us and our (developing) family. We thank you so much for all of your support, and we will continue to update you on our social medias ONLY. Anything released by the tabloids is false and we will not stand for rumours to fly around. Lots of love Henry and Y/n xx

-

@/trueferalis: Ok but Miss Y/n is super slay, the photo she posted of her going back to work as a paediatrician is so girlboss, SUPERMOM AND DOCTOR

>> @/HenryCavill: So proud to be her man and daddy of our baby 😋

-

@/kinkydhrine: I can’t believe it’s been two years since Charlie was born the same day as their wedding, did anyone else swoon at the video Henry posted of them all on holiday at Bora Bora. Baby Charlie and Y/n on a big inflatable flamingo is everything, his tiny squeals 🥹🥹 Then Henry in the background of the video whistling at Y/n 🫣🫣

7 Weeks Later

>> @/ririezdueh: You called it. They’ve just had another pregnancy announcement, HOPEFULLY NOT ANOTHER WEDDING ANNIVERSARY BABY 😭😭

———/

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaay @fdl305 @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 20 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: After recovering from the chaos of the meeting, Alcina shows you the dungeon and distillery. Honoring the agreement the two of you made of not keeping secrets, she also shows you the thing she fears the most.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Pure unadulterated fluff

Notes: Part 20! So sorry this is late! To make up for it it's extra long at over 8k words! Enjoy💕

Click here for the rest of the series

Image source

For the first time since the meeting you woke up alone. Reaching over to the other side of the bed you were a little surprised to find it empty and the sheets cold. Technically, you woke up alone one other time, but the sheets were still warm and as you woke up Alcina was walking out of the bathroom making her way back to bed. She promptly crawled under the covers and pulled you into her arms and the two of you fell back asleep for a few more hours. Feeling how cold the sheets next to you were was a good indication that Alcina left the bed a few hours ago and hasn’t returned yet. You can’t help but feel a little sad, but you push the feeling aside knowing that she probably has a lot of work to catch up on since she was keeping such a close eye on you for the last week.

As you were getting dressed the breakfast bell rang. The second one rang just as you were finishing getting ready so you hurried downstairs so you weren’t too late.

“Good morning draga mea.” Alcina says as you walk into the dining room. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept like a rock. How about you?”

“I slept wonderfully.” She says with a smile.

Looking around the table, you notice Cassandra’s chair is empty.

“Where’s Cass?” You ask.

The mood around the table shifts and you immediately regret asking. She’s probably still mad at Alcina for what happened at the meeting.

“She hasn’t been to a meal all week.” Bela says, looking at Alcina out of the corner of her eye.

You look over at Alcina and see that her eyes are downturned towards her plate. Right away you notice the sadness in them and the somber mood she was put in.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I had no idea.” 

Alcina reaches across and places her large hand over yours. “Don’t fret about it draga, you didn’t know.”

“Where is she? I can try and talk to her after breakfast.”

“The dungeon.” Bela and Daniela say in unison.

“Oh.”

“I can bring you down there this afternoon.” Alcina says. Bela and Daniela’s heads snap towards their mother in surprise.

“But mom-” Daniela says.

“I know, draga. It’s time we stop keeping secrets. It’s unfair to not give her the whole picture.” She says before turning towards you. “If you want to, that is. You are not obligated to go down there if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, we can go down there later. I already know there’s going to be things I don’t want to see. But it’s important to know.”

“There certainly will be. Girls, can you please go down after breakfast to see if your sister has gone on a cleaning rampage or a destruction one? I would hate for y/n to go down there to see it in a worse state than it is normally in.”

“Of course, mother.” Bela says.

“If Cass destroyed it or if there’s guts everywhere we’ll clean it up before you go down!”

“Wonderful, thank you dragele mele.”

(My darlings.)

The rest of breakfast was relatively quiet with some small talk sprinkled in throughout. When the girls were finished they swarmed off to the basement and Alcina sat back in her chair and dabbed at the corners of her lips with her napkin.

“Do you have plans for the day, draga mea?” Alcina asks.

“Not really, how about you? I’m guessing you have work to catch up on, right?”

“Actually I was able to catch up with most of it last night, which was why you awoke alone this morning. Which I apologize for, I tried to finish up before the breakfast bell rang but I wasn’t quite able to make it happen.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I figured you were working, especially since you’ve been keeping such a close eye on me this week. I had a feeling you had a lot to catch up on.”

“Yes, luckily it wasn’t as much as I anticipated but I wanted to get as much done as possible when you were asleep so I could spend the day with you, if that’s alright with you that is.”

“Alcina, if I ever say no to that, take me to the hospital because I’m probably having a stroke.”

Alcina laughs and cups your jaw, her thumb caressing your skin. “Of course, my love.”

She stands from her seat and as she does, a few maids emerge from the shadows and begin to clear the table. “Come, my love. We have much to discuss.” She says, extending a gloved hand out to you.

Taking her hand in yours, you stand up and let Alcina lead you outside towards the courtyard.

“What do we have to talk about?” You ask.

“I believe I owe you answers to any questions you may have. I promised you when Karl was here that after the meeting I would answer any and every question you have for me, regarding anything.”

“Oh right, I totally forgot about that.”

“Yes. So tell me, draga, what is it you want to know?” She asks as she takes a seat on one of the benches and you sit next to her.

“I don’t know, what else haven’t you told me?” Alcina gives you a look and you chuckle and shake your head at her. “Okay, okay. Let’s start with the basement. What really goes on down there?”

“The basement is rather large. The dungeon and distillery are where your questions lie, I’m sure. The dungeon is where the cells are, where maids who have misbehaved or those who have trespassed are held.”

“How many cells are there?”

“Roughly a dozen.”

“Are all of them filled with people right now?”

“No, there are only a few that are holding some maids. We haven’t had any trespassers in a few months so there’s none in there.”

“So the other cells are just empty?”

Alcina’s eyes shift away from you and she takes a hesitant breath before answering.

“No.”

“What’s in there?” You ask and her eyes meet yours for a moment. Guilt fills her eyes and she looks away again. “Alcina, what is it?”

“Before I answer I need to say that what I am about to tell you is something you are not going to like or approve of. It’s one of those things that makes me fearful it will be the last straw for you and you will leave.”

You take her hand in both of yours and squeeze it. “Whatever it is, I won’t leave. I promise.” She nods and takes a deep breath,

“As I’m sure you’ve heard, when maids misbehave they are punished. There are several instruments and devices that are used in punishments, but they are quite brutal.”

“So they’re torture devices?”

Alcina hesitates for a moment before breathing a “yes.”

“Why do you seem so ashamed? I thought it was something you enjoyed?”

“Because I am, talking about these things with you makes me feel ashamed because I know you don’t approve. And I do enjoy it, the screams, the blood, the terror in their eyes, it’s exhilarating. I’ve never felt ashamed of it, at least not in decades, until you came to the castle.”

“I don’t want you to feel ashamed. Of course I don’t approve, and it feels so wrong for me to tell you not to be ashamed, but I love you so much that no matter what it is, I never want you to feel ashamed of it.”

Alcina smiles at you and wraps her arm around your shoulder and pulls you into her.

“The distillery is in the other part of the basement. That is where maids and trespassers are bled into barrels for the Sanguis Virginis.”

“So it’s not just ‘maidens blood’ in the wine? It’s anyones?”

“Precisely. Decades ago it was only the blood of virgin women because it was said to be more pure, but that was a fallacy. Your blood does not in fact change in any way after the loss of virginity.” She says and smirks down at you.

“Well thank god. I would have been screwed if that were the case.” You joke.

Alcina laughs and kisses you on the head. Placing a finger underneath your chin, she lifts your gaze to meet hers. “Even if it were the case, I was not letting you anywhere near the dungeon. I had much better plans for you, my dear.” She says before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Well that’s good.” You say after your lips part. “Anything else about down there?”

“Yes, there is one more thing. I believe I’ve told you of the Moroaică, the maidens that turn after receiving the cadou? They live in the dungeons and distillery. But they will not come near you, especially if the girls or myself are accompanying you. Usually when we are around they migrate to different areas of the basement,”

“What if you’re not with me?”

“You should smell enough like us for them to leave you alone, but still I would prefer if you didn’t venture down there alone.”

“I don’t think I want to, honestly.”

“Good.” She says with a smile. “What other questions do you have?”

“Well I’m guessing one of the secrets you were keeping from me was the dragon, right?”

“Yes, that was certainly one of the bigger ones.”

“Will you ever show me its full form?”

“Not until I am certain I can control it without harming you. It is massive and it is difficult enough to control just when I am partially transformed, when I am fully transformed it’s even more difficult. I don’t want to risk it - I can’t.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable. I just want you to know that no matter what it looks like, it’s not going to scare me away.”

‘It’s quite horrid.”

“You’re about to show me a fully-functioning torture room. I can’t imagine the dragon is that much worse.”

“I don’t know about that draga mea. But thank you for always reassuring me anyway.”

“Of course, it’s part of my job.” You say as you lean your head against her. “Oh!” You say, popping back up. “I remember what I wanted to ask you a few weeks ago. You had said that Mother Miranda wasn’t the only thing you were afraid of, what else is there?”

“That I feel is best if I show you.”

“Okay.” You say with an unsure tone in your voice.

“Don’t fret, it’s not a creature or something that can hurt you. Well, it can, but it's more of a weapon.”

“There’s a weapon that can hurt you?”

“Yes. I will explain everything when I show you. But first, let's see if the girls have cleaned up the basement. There is something in one of the rooms I need to get before I show you what it is I’m truly afraid of, anyway.”

You nod and Alcina calls for the girls. Bela and Daniela arrive in a swarm and emerge in front of the both of you.

“How are things in the dungeon?”

“Not as bad as I would have thought.” Bela says.

“Cass went on a cleaning rampage but then caught a maid trying to sneak into her bedroom so you wouldn’t have known she cleaned down there.”

Alcina shakes her head. “They never learn, do they?”

“Well that one certainly isn’t going to do that ever again.” Bela says.

“Or anything ever again for that matter.” Daniela adds.

“Thank you girls, I appreciate your help.”

“Of course, Mamă.” Daniela says before kissing Alcina on the cheek.

“Anytime, mother.” Bela says, kissing Alcina on her other cheek.

The girls swarm off and Alcina stands up and you follow her inside. She leads you to a door you’re unfamiliar with and unlocks it. Immediately the musty smell hits you and your anxiety starts to kick in.

“Quiet your heart, draga. I will be with you the entire time, there is nothing to fear.” She kneels down to your height and runs her gloved fingers through your hair. “I won’t leave your side, or let go of your hand the entire time we’re down there if you don’t want me to, okay? And I promise I won’t leave you in here.” She says with a smirk.

“Okay.” You say. She nods and leans in and kisses you before standing back up.

“Pull the door closed behind you, please. The last thing I need is for a Moroaică to get loose in my castle. I will lead the way down.” You nod at her and she starts to descend the stairs. Closing the door behind you, you follow Alcina down the spiral steps into the basement.

“These stairs will lead us down to where the storage rooms are, I will lead you through the safer areas first before taking you to the dungeon and distillery.”

The winding staircase is dark despite the torches that line the walls. The lower you descend, the cooler and damper the air around you gets. Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, Alcina reaches out her hand and you take it in yours as you climb down the last few steps. She takes you through some of the storage rooms. Where extra dried goods and spices are kept for the kitchen, where extra fabrics are stored for the seamstress that takes care of the maids' uniforms. As you walk further into the basement you notice just how damp and gross it is.

“I apologize for the environment. The full basement is nearly the size of the castle and it is impossible to keep every area dry.”

“It’s okay, I get it.”

Walking up to a wooden door, Alcina knocks before opening it.

“Cassandra? Are you in here?”

“What do you want?” An aggravated voice calls from somewhere in the room.

Alcina’s eyes fill with sadness and she closes them before taking a breath and grounding herself.

“I am showing Y/N the dungeon and distillery. May we come in?”

“Whatever.”

She nods at you to follow her and she ducks through the door. The second you enter the room you’re hit in the face with the smell of blood and death. It’s a horrible smell and you instinctively cover your mouth and nose.

“I’m sorry, I forgot how unpleasant the smell can be.”

“It’s okay.”

“This is the dungeon.”

Looking around, you see cells lining the brick walls. The iron bars are rusted and some are jagged. As you walk closer it looks like there are slash marks against the cells and you examine them for a moment.

“The Moroaică don’t have the best eyesight, but they have a phenomenal sense of hearing and smell. When they smell people in the cells they try to attack the cages with their swords and sickles. Obviously, they don’t do nearly enough damage to break in but they do a wonderful job at keeping the prisoners in line and frightened. They also act as a deterrent so whoever is in the cells think twice about trying to escape.” She says as she walks past a cell and stops and stares into it. “Isn’t that right?” She asks into the cell and a wicked smile crosses her face.

Walking up to the cell you see a maid cowering in the corner. She must have been down here for weeks. Her dress and skin are filthy and she’s covered in cuts, bite marks and blood.

“Y-y-yes, m-m-mistress.” She stammers as she trembles.

“Now, now,  what have you done to land yourself here, little one?” Alcina asks in almost a sweet voice but the edge she has makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“I-I accidentally made the bath water too c-cold for Miss Daniela. It was an accident, I swear. B-but Miss Daniela was angry - a-as she s-should be. I-I know the cold c-can be painful for the l-l-ladies of the castle. S-so she b-brought me down here. She said i-if s-she can’t enjoy a bath, neither can I. I-I fully a-accept my punishment, m-my Lady. I-I am at the mercy of y-you and y-your daughters.”

Alcina stares at the girl for a moment before tilting her head at her.

“Pity.” She says as she shrugs her shoulders and continues her tour.

Looking back at the girl once more, you can see the fear in her eyes. She’s been down here for a very long time. It’s not often that maids who are kept down in the dungeon for a long period of time like that are ever let out. At first you were surprised that Daniela had brought the girl down to the dungeon for something so small but then again when you first met her, she was almost too eager to take a bite out of you. So maybe it wasn’t that surprising at all. She’s pretty sadistic, not as sadistic as Cassandra, but still.

Alcina stops in front of one of the open cells and you hear something inside of it. When you look in you see Cassandra cleaning what looks like a medieval torture device. It was a large plank of wood with metal spikes sticking out of it. There were five leather straps hanging from it, you could only imagine that their purpose was for keeping the head, arms and legs of whatever unfortunate soul that was strapped to that still.

The sight made your stomach churn as you looked around the cell. There were buckets of gore and blood scattered about, one was knocked over and whatever spilled out of it was some kind of internal organ you couldn’t pinpoint. Alcina puts her arm around your shoulder to reassure you and you lean into her a little.

“What are you doing, bug?” She asks Cassandra.

“I’m not talking to you.” She says.

“Cassandra-”

“Just finish giving her the tour and leave.”

Alcina sighs and you can tell she feels defeated. It’s been a week since the meeting and Cassandra is still angry at her. You understand why she was angry, but her anger is misplaced.

“Come, draga. Let's continue.” Alcina says, gently tugging at your hand.

Alcina ducks through another door and the smell of blood only gets stronger. Right away you notice multiple, things, wrapped in tarps hanging from the ceiling. You can only imagine what was wrapped in them given what Alcina had said earlier and because there were gigantic barrels of blood underneath each strung-up tarp.

“This is the distillery. I’m sure you can imagine what goes on in here.”

As she walks further into the room you hear a moan and turn around to see something walking out of the shadows in the corner. Freezing, you watch as the creature comes into the light. It’s scraggly with gray-purple skin. It was covered in scraps of cloth and a hood. A Moroaicǎ. Its head turns towards you and it hisses. Inside its mouth you see rotted teeth and it begins to limp in your direction. The Moroaicǎ is dragging a massive sword behind it. As it walks closer it begins to raise its sword as if it’s going to attack you. You feel your nerves picking up and you think to yourself “it won’t hurt me. Alcina said it won’t.”  It gets closer and closer and it looks like it’s about to swing.

Alcina growls and you hear her claws unsheath before she steps in front of you and slashes at it. The Moroaicǎ falls to the floor into pieces.

“Absolutely useless.” She mumbles. “I apologize draga, they are not supposed to come after you but not all of them are as intelligent. This is precisely why I don’t want you coming down here by yourself.”

“That thing is terrifying.”

“They are rather unpleasant. But they are good guards. That is what happens when the maids don’t react well with the cadou but don’t outright die.”

“So if I got it and didn’t react well…”

Alcina sighs and places her arm on your shoulder.

“Yes. You could turn into that. Or worse.”

“What’s worse?”

“It doesn’t happen often, but the cadou can cause maids to uncontrollably mutate. The ones that are unfortunate enough to experience that are quickly euthanized.”

Alcina brings you around the distillery for a little longer before you’ve seen enough and ask to head back. Making your way back to the dungeon, Cassandra is mopping the blood-stained floor. As you walk past, Cassandra looks up and sees the scar on your neck and her eyes grow wide.

“Where are we going next?” You ask Alcina.

��I need to grab something from one of the nearby rooms, the Room of Sorrow.”

“Room of Sorrow?”

“Yes, there’s something I have to get in there before I take you to our next stop.”

“Okay, can I stay here and talk to Cass?”

“Of course, draga.” She says, cupping your face with her hand. “Cassandra, can you please lead her back upstairs?”

“Whatever.”

Alcina nods at you and walks out. You take a seat on one of the stools near Cassandra as she mops.

“What do you want?” She asks.

“I wanted to see how you are. I heard you haven’t been to a meal all week.”

“So what?”

“I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“Peachy.”

“Cass.”

“What? Why do you even care?”

“Because I care about you, stupid! What’s going on? Why are you giving your mom the third degree?”

“Because she almost killed you! I can’t believe you’re walking around with her as if she didn’t almost fucking kill you a week ago.”

“Cass, it wasn’t her fault.”

“Bullshit.”

“It really wasn’t. She’s not in control when she’s in that state. She told me that she was screaming, trying to get the dragon to stop but she couldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t stop.”

“I don’t believe that she can’t control it and I don’t believe that she can’t say no to Mother Miranda.”

“Why? What makes you so sure that she’s doing all of this on purpose?”

“Because I can control my flies, I can say no to Mother Miranda. If I can there’s no reason she can’t!”

“Cass, I don’t think any of it works like that. Her dragon and your flies are so different. You’ve seen her wings, according to her that’s not even a quarter of her full transformation. Your flies are a part of you, your mother’s dragon is an entirely different being that coexists within her. And the relationship between you and Miranda is so much different than your mom and Miranda. Miranda saved your moms life. You know she was dying before she met Miranda, right? That she promised her eternal life, power and beauty?”

“Yeah, and Miranda fucking lied to her and she still went along with it.”

“She didn’t have a choice! Miranda put a cognition control device into her once she realized your mom didn’t immediately die.”

“What?”

“She never told you?”

“No?”

“Oh, shit. I didn’t know she never told you. Please don’t repeat this, but yes. She did. When your mom first turned it was really hard for her to disobey Miranda’s control. But luckily your mother retained enough of her own cognition so after some time she was able to control how much influence Miranda really had over her. But in the beginning it was really difficult.”

“So she shouldn’t have an excuse now!”

“That’s not how that works and you know it. Listen, yes, your mother can disobey the influence Miranda has over her, but that doesn’t mean she can tell her to go to hell. She’s still a Lord of the village and Miranda still has full control of it. Even though she doesn’t want to, she still has to obey her to a certain extent.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“But it’s reality. She can’t, and I think deep down you know she can’t but you don’t want to imagine Miranda having that much control over your mother. And listen, I get it. I hate it that she does. And yes, I’m sure your mom was blind to a lot of the abuse Miranda subjected her to, hell she still might be, but I think now she’s seeing more clearly than ever. You just need to be patient Cass. Give her some slack, she’s trying. And it’s really upsetting her that you haven’t spoken to her or been at dinner.”

“She told you that?”

“She didn’t have to. Just look at her when you speak to her the way you have been, it’s breaking her heart. She doesn’t want to push you because you’re not as forthcoming with your emotions as Dani is, but she loves you and it’s making her sad.”

Cass looks down at her feet and you can tell that it upset her knowing that she was the cause of her mother’s sadness.

“I didn’t want to make her sad.”

“I know. But you need to give her more slack. I get that you’re angry about what happened at the meeting but she really wasn’t in control. Miranda coaxed the dragon out to take control because Miranda wanted your mom to kill me in her arms while she knew your mother was helpless and couldn’t do anything to stop it. She wanted your mom to watch me die as her dragon killed me. It was Miranda’s fault, not your moms. And it really upset and pissed your mom off that Miranda did that. She’s not as happy and smitten with her as you think, Cass. Your mom is sick of Miranda. But you said it yourself, Miranda is strong, crazy strong, so your mom can’t just go after her. She has to be careful and strategic.”

“Miranda really wanted to torture mother that badly? To make the dragon kill you in mother’s arms so mother couldn’t do anything about it?”

“Yes.”

“She’s fucking evil.”

“She definitely is. But you understand, at least more now, right? That it wasn’t all your moms fault? She really did try to save me and I was able to get the dragon to stop.”

“How? How did you get it to stop?”

“I remembered you said that blood tastes sweeter when the person you’re feeding from is frightened, so I relaxed and gently asked it to stop. I had no idea if it was going to work but I got lucky. According to your mother, the dragon only ever responded to Miranda before. But when it noticed what it did to me, it rejected Miranda. It growled and snarled at her and protected me from her.”

“Did it really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. Mom doesn’t talk much about her dragon, she fucking hates it honestly.”

“I know, and I’m working on getting her to be kinder to it. It’s going to take some time, but I think it’s possible.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“Probably. So, are you still angry with your mom?”

“Not as much, I didn’t realize Miranda brainwashed her for so long. I’m still mad that it happened, but I guess I’m not as mad at mom anymore.”

“Well, that’s a good start. Wanna head back upstairs? I can’t go by myself, one of the Moroaicǎ tried to come after me in the distillery so your mom really doesn't want me walking around here alone.”

Cassandra shakes her head and chuckles. “Man, they are the dumbest creatures. They’re worse than lycans.”

“I believe it.” You say with a laugh.

Cassandra leads you through the basement and up a different set of stairs than the ones you and Alcina came down. When she opens the door, you realize you’re near the main hall.

“I’m in here, girls.” You hear Alcina call from the main hall.

You and Cassandra walk into the hall to find Alcina sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine in her hand.

Cassandra sits next to her mother and leans her head on her arm. Alcina looks down at her daughter with a warm smile on her face.

“I’m sorry mom.” Cassandra mumbles.

“It’s alright, draga mea. Just please, next time you’re upset, please come and speak with me. Okay?”

“I will. I promise. Te iubesc, mamă.”

(I love you, mom.)

“Și eu te iubesc, fiica mea.” Alcina says as she wraps her arm around Cassandra and kisses her on the head.

(I love you too, my daughter.)

The two of them sit like that for a minute before Cassandra wiggles out of her mothers grasp. She kisses her on the cheek and swarms back down into the basement. Alcina watches Cassandra until she’s out of sight and her gaze lingers there for a few more moments. Her eyes shift towards you and she smiles.

“I don’t know how you do it, draga mea. No one has ever been able to get through to her the way you are able to.”

“I don’t know, I just talk to her. I meet her where she’s at and try not to push her too much.She’s a good kid. She’s so fiercely protective of you Alcina. She loves you so much.” You say as you sit next to her.

“I know, I know.” Alcina says with a sigh as she wraps her around you and kisses you on the top of your head. She sighs into you and you cuddle into her. When you open your eyes, you see masks sitting on the end table next to the couch.

“What are those?”

“Ah,” Alcina says, reaching for the masks. “These are the keys to get into the Tower of Worship.”

“The Tower of Worship?”

“Yes, there’s something in there I want to show you. Shall we?”

“Sure!”

Alcina stands up and leads you through a set of double doors and you enter the Hall of Four. She walks around the faceless statues, placing a mask on each one. When she places the last mask on the final statue you hear gears turning and the door behind the statues swings open. Alcina takes your hand in hers and the two of you walk through the short hall and through the second door.

The second set of doors opens up to the outside, a large stone bridge leading to a set of stairs that takes you up to what you can only assume is the Tower of Worship. The view from the bridge is stunning. On either side you can see the vast, mountainous Romanian landscape. Walking up to the ledge, you take in your surroundings with Alcina at your side. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you admire the scenery around you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s absolutely stunning.”

“One day I will show you the view from the castle roof. If you think this is beautiful, that will truly take your breath away.” She says before smiling down at you.

“I’d love to see it.” You say as you smile back up at her.

“Then it shall be done. Come, my love. We mustn't dawdle any longer.”

You give her a nod and walk with Alcina up the stairs. When the two of you reach the top she opens the doors to the tower and you walk in. The inside of the Tower of Worship looks like what was once a small church, now abandoned. The pews are scattered and covered in a thick layer of dust. The altar is pushed to the side and the stained glass windows are filthy but the sunlight still manages to peek through the dirt. In the back of the room against the three main window’s sits a coffin.

The closer the two of you get to the coffin, the tighter Alcina holds your hand. She’s nervous in a way you’ve never seen before, it’s like she grows more frightened with each step you take.

When you finally get up to it you notice the Dimitrescu coat of arms decorating the lid. Alcina traces her fingers over the emblem before taking a deep breath and looking down at you.

“Who’s in there?” You ask.

“I don’t know his name, truthfully, I never cared to learn it. But this man entered the castle decades ago with a weapon, the only weapon of its kind and the only weapon that could really hurt or kill me. It was his goal, like many others before and after him, to rid the village and the world of a monster like me.”

“What was the weapon?”

Alcina looks down at the coffin and her breath shakes. In one swift motion she turns the lid of the stone coffin, revealing a rotting corpse inside. The smell of rotting flesh immediately hits you and you turn away for a second, trying to waft the rancid scent away. When you turned back you noticed that Alcina had taken a few steps back, as if she’s afraid to get too close to it. Looking down into the coffin, you see the corpse clutching a curved dagger.

“It’s called the Dagger of Death’s Flowers.” She says behind you. “It was forged in the Middle Ages, roughly a thousand years ago. It’s said the dagger has been infused with poisons and toxins found throughout Europe. It was created to kill monsters and demons like myself.”

You look down at the dagger in awe and caution, you don’t dare to reach out and touch it. Leaning over the coffin, you try and get a closer look at it.

“Is that, is that your coat of arms on the hilt?”

“Yes. I believe each symbol carved into it belongs to each demon or monster that was killed by the dagger. This man, the one who tried to kill me with it, engraved the Dimitrescu coat of arms prematurely.”

“Is it true? The rumors that it was laced with poison?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was stupid and curious and pricked my finger with the tip of the blade after I killed the man. The pain that spread through my body felt like lightning. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my entire life, only second to when Miranda implanted the cadou inside of me. And the blade just barely pierced my skin. If I were to be stabbed with it I cannot imagine what would happen.”

“Why do you still have it? Why didn’t you destroy it?”

“Because it is still a threat to me. I wasn’t able to destroy it without interacting with it in some way and just pressing the blade against my skin without piercing it is incredibly painful. I couldn’t hide it in the mountain or throw it away without risking someone else finding it and using it against me. So I locked it up in here, with the man both brave and ignorant enough to think he was able to use it against me.”

“Who else knows about its existence?”

“Only myself, the girls, Mother Miranda and the Duke, I believe.”

“The Duke?” You ask, turning to face her.

“Yes.”

“Who is that?”

“Oh, that’s right. He was here when you,” Alcina pauses and looks to the side before looking back at you with guilt in her eyes. “A few weeks ago.”

“When I locked myself in my room?”

“Precisely. He is a merchant, one of the, if not the best, that comes through town every few weeks. He’s actually due for a visit soon. Anyway,” she says, shaking her head. “The dagger is what I am truly afraid of. May I close it up?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

Alcina strides towards the casket and slides the lid back into place. She makes it look effortless but you know if you tried to move that by yourself there’s a good chance you wouldn’t even be able to get it to budge.

“So what would happen if you were to actually get stabbed with it? Would it instantly kill you?”

“I don’t believe so. But it will halt my regeneration abilities, making me susceptible to any attacks. When I pricked my finger with the tip of it it took days for my regeneration abilities to return to normal. They didn’t cease, but they were significantly slowed. It also affected my ability to control the dragon inside of me. The dagger not only hurt myself but hurt it as well and I felt it thrashing against its cage trying to get out. I needed a significant amount of blood to restore myself. If I were to be penetrated with the full blade, or perhaps even half of it, it would be devastating to me and render me extremely vulnerable.”

“So if your regeneration abilities stopped, you could die?”

“Exactly. Essentially, the reason for my immortality is my regeneration abilities. If it was stopped or hindered in any way, I could die from an attack. I would still be able to take more damage than an average human would due to my size, but yes, enough stab wounds, gunshots or other attacks could certainly kill me.”

A shiver runs up your spine and you shake it off. You hate the fact that Alcina isn’t as immortal as you really thought. It terrifies you knowing that something so simple could be her downfall.

“I hate that that thing exists.” You say as you look away from the casket.

“So do I, draga. But it is locked away and is safe.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I promise.” She says, running her gloved fingers through your hair. “Some have tried to get the dagger but only one person out of the near dozen was able to collect just one of the masks to unlock the door before being caught.” She tucks a strand behind your ear and cups your face, guiding it up towards her.

“Okay.”

Alcina smiles and bends down to your level. 

“It is locked away and I am safe from it, iubirea mea.”

With your face still in your hand, she pulls you in for a kiss. The moment your lips meet hers all of the anxiety you had melts away. Sighing into her touch, you wrap your arms around her neck and deepen the kiss. Her tongue brushes across your lips and you part them, allowing her entrance into your mouth. As your tongues intertwine a small moan emerges from the back of your throat and into her mouth. Alcina lowers herself to the ground more so both of her knees are on the stone floor. With her free hand she pulls at the back of your leg and you follow her lead, wrapping your legs around her waist. Her hand leaves your leg and cups your ass, holding you tightly against her.

The kiss grows more passionate, more intense and Alcina bites down on your bottom lip. She doesn’t draw blood but you still let out a moan as she pulls your lip between her teeth. You dive back into the kiss, tangling your fingers into her hair and you give the hair on the back of her head a small pull. Alcina growls into your mouth and she tightens her grip on you.

The two of you break apart to catch your breath and your lips trail down her jaw and to her neck. You start kissing and sucking the column of her neck, biting down at her pulse point. To your pleasant surprise, Alcina lets out a moan when you do that and you continue to suck and kiss at the spot.

Alcina throws her head back as you mark up her neck, she can feel her chest heaving and an ache in her core begins to grow. When you bite down on her pulse point again she lets out a louder moan and her eyes roll into the back of her head. She’s about to push you to the ground and take you here and now until she opens her eyes and remembers the two of you are still in the Tower of Worship. Rolling her eyes, she lifts her head and cups your face, guiding you away from her neck to face her.

You follow Alcina’s hands as they guide you back up and your kiss-swollen lips meet hers once more. This kiss was softer, still passionate, but less intense. She pulls away a bit but stays close enough where her lips are still brushing against your as she speaks.

“I would want nothing more than to take you right here on this floor, draga mea. However I feel this tower is less than ideal to do so in.”

You didn’t even realize you were clenching around nothing until this minute. You can feel the wetness in between your legs and you too would want nothing more than to have her fuck you here and now, but she’s right. You nod your head in agreement and Alcina takes in a breath through her nose and slowly exhales. Her warm breath on your face is soothing but also just makes you want her more.

“Mmm, you smell delightful iubirea mea.” She whispers.

You smile in response and rub your nose against hers. She rests her forehead against yours and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, just enjoying being in each other's arms.

“I missed you.” You whisper, breaking the silence.

“I missed you so much, iubirea mea. I am so sorry you keep getting hurt and we keep losing time together. I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“It’s not your fault, Alcina. It’s okay. But I would love to spend some time with you.” You say.

With one last kiss the two of you part and stare into each other’s eyes. Her gold irises are sparkling in the afternoon sun as if they were made with glitter. What you wouldn’t give to be able to spend the rest of your life looking into them.

Alcina bites her bottom lip and looks away. She has a bashful look on her face and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What?”

She doesn’t look up at you as she chews on her bottom lip for a moment. You can see the wheels turning in her head. She releases her lip from her teeth and she takes a breath before adjusting her posture and sitting up straight. Her eyes meet yours once more. There’s a vulnerable look in her eyes that you don’t get to see all that often but it makes your heart melt every time.

“Would you,” she begins to say before her eyes flicker down and back up to yours. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

The small smile you were sporting grows into a full grin.

“I would love to.”

Alcina releases a breath as if she was relieved and smiles back at you. You don’t dare to point it out, even though you want to. It’s not easy for her to be vulnerable with you and you know how hard it can be, even still, for her to express her vulnerability. If anything, you find it absolutely adorable that she thought for even a second you would say no. There’s a part of you that worries that maybe she doubted it because you haven’t shown her enough love, but the more realistic side of you knows she’s just traumatized from her past and hasn’t done something like this - and wasn’t rejected by someone - in a long, long time.

“Wonderful. I shall plan a lovely evening for us.”

“I am very excited. Have we been on a proper date before?”

Alcina thinks for a moment before furrowing her brows and tilting her head.

“Truthfully, draga. I’m not sure. But whatever happened, or didn’t happen then, was then. This date will mark a new chapter of our newly rekindled love.”

“That sounds perfect.” You say before kissing her.

When the kiss ends she lets go of you and your feet slide back down to the ground. Alcina stands up, brushes off her dress and reaches out for your hand. Taking her large hand in yours, the two of you walk out of the Tower of Worship and back into the castle.

Alcina closes the doors and begins to remove the masks from the statues.

“So when are we going to go on this date?” You ask.

“Hm, well, I would like some time to plan something perfect, which shouldn’t take very long. And tomorrow night I have to go out and search for the hunters. I’ve put it off for long enough and it cannot wait any longer.”

A knot forms in the pit of your stomach and Alcina notices the worried look plastered across your face.

“Do not fret, draga mea. I will not engage with any hunters I come across unless I absolutely have to.”

“What if they have weapons that are made of the same thing as that dagger?”

“Oh, iubirea mea.” She says before walking over to you and bending down to your height. “I promise you, that dagger is the only one of its kind in existence. If it weren’t, nearly every intruder who has come here to try and kill me would have one.” She cups your face and caresses your cheek with her thumb. “I promise, none of their weapons can harm me. Even if a grenade were to go off in my hands, it would certainly hurt and do damage, but not nearly enough to stop me. Please don’t fret about it.”

“Okay.” You say as you nod your head.

Alcina kisses your forehead and stands back up. She walks over to the final statue and removes the mask. You can hear the gears shift in the door behind you and after a few seconds you hear it lock.

“So how about two nights from now?”

“Sure, that would be perfect. As long as you’re okay with doing it the night after you go out.”

“That will not be an issue, iubirea mea. Then it’s set. Two nights from now you and I will go on a date.”

“I’m excited to see what you come up with.”

“I have a few ideas I believe you will be more than pleased with.” She says with a smirk and a wink. “I am going to return the masks to their places. I believe lunch will be served soon, I should be back by the time the bells ring.”

“Okay!”

“Te iubesc.” She whispers before bending down to kiss you.

“I love you too.” You whisper back.

“Now please try and keep yourself out of trouble while I’m gone.” She says, shooting you a wink as she walks away.

“I make no promises.” You quip.

Alcina playfully rolls her eyes and tries her best to hide the smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.

Not long after the lunch bell rings. You make your way into the dining room and are met by two swarms. Bela and Daniela appear and sit in their seats. Looking over at Cassandra’s empty chair, you can’t help but feel your heart sink a little. Maybe you didn’t get through to her as much as you thought you did after all.

A minute later Alcina ducks through the door and greets you and the girls. She sees Cassandra’s empty chair and you see a sadness glaze over her eyes before she masks it. Alcina sits in her chair and elegantly places her napkin over her lap. She takes a sip of her wine and just as she’s about to speak, the doors open and a swarm of flies enters the dining room.

Cassandra emerges from it and takes her seat. You look over at Alcina and you see her eyes light up with happiness. Bela and Daniela also have smiles on their faces when they see their sister enter the dining room. For the first time in a while, your whole family is together again. Your heart feels so full it might burst.

“Sorry I’m late, the bells are hard to hear in the dungeon.” Cassandra says.

“It’s alright, draga, no need to fret.” Alcina says with a smile.

Lunch is served and all of you dig into your meals. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela laugh and joke and bother each other as they usually do. Alcina halfheartedly scolds them while trying to hide her smile or her laughter behind her drink. It was the first family meal in a long time where everything finally felt normal and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

Got hired by a trucking company doing admin to safety stuff.

My new boss, in the interview: I’d love to have you start on *specific date* so that we can do the on boarding stuff, but we’re going to have the Driver Appreciation BBQ literally the day after and I want everyone to meet you.

Me: That’s honestly a good plan. I’m completely available for whatever happens, what time do I need to be there?

My actual second day of being hired and going through the whole set up of Driver Appreciation BBQ Day:

*chopped four onions for burgers and sobbed in the break room*

My boss: *lightly supervises but is honestly a Party Queen because she’s a Hispanic mom and is used to throwing parties for 100 plus people in her own backyard let alone a work bbq, you don’t even understand she literally looked at the corporate list of supplies and was like “nah, too much. Mmm. Maybe. Hm. Not enough.” AND WAS EXACTLY RIGHT she owns her own bouncy house, she’s got this shit on lockdown, ok?

So like two hours into this polite bullshit introductory hell scape (I am fine with meeting new people in large groups but I hate meeting people in “sterile corporate” settings, like, if I’m going to remember you, it’s because you did something actually meaningful or interesting, NOT because you shook my hand for five seconds and said you go by Steve or Becky…)

Me, to EVERYONE because my job is to Hand Out Shirts and Lunchboxes: Hi! I’m the new girl from Safety! Who are you exactly? Please don’t expect me to remember you, I’m terrible at putting names and faces together, but I’m sure we’ll talk again soon! What size T-shirt do you want? Here’s your lunch box!

Me: *finally gets a break and sits down to eat some honestly decent brauts and potato salad, deliberately choosing to sit next to one of the drivers that’s been at the company for a while* Hi, how’s it going? I’m the new safety girl!

Older driver whose name I don’t know YET: I’m doin’ pretty good with all this free food. So, you gonna stick around after the little one comes along, or are you gonna leave us high and dry like the last one?

Me, honestly pretty angry but trying to be cool: Not pregnant, just fat.

*very very very awkward silence, like this dude knew that he fucked up, but also the way my body is shaped I really don’t blame him for thinking what he did*

He did actually apologize right then and there, and honestly the entire way he went about everything was from a genuinely good place, and I personally thought it was funny after it was all said and done. Verbal on the spot forgiveness type stuff.

Guess who fucks up the very next day by UNINTENTIONALLY losing a very important document of the exact driver who “insulted” me?

Yeah. So. I spent my entire first week on a brand new job searching through three giant filing cabinets and 20 years worth of documents for ONE fucking medical card. I didn’t find it. Believe me, I looked at every single piece of paper in those cabinets, I have no fucking clue where I put it.

The driver was really nice about it and we had a good laugh about him putting his foot in his mouth and me swearing up and down I didn’t do it for revenge.

Honestly I have no idea how any of this will turn out, but every one seems nice so far so I’m really hopeful.

[hvnnibvni]

Together Again | JJK *part 2*

Pairings: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.

Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.

Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.

Authors note: Heyyy~ how are you? Welcome back. I’m going to try to release once a day idk yet still trying to figure this app out 😭 I sound old asf bruh but we gone get through it lol. Anyways ENJOY BB🤍

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‘ Oh these bitches got me all the way fucked up’

“well I guess we could go back home for a while. Right my lovelies?” You ask your two afghan hounds, Cleo and Benji. You two babies you’d be damned if you’d let that piece of shit keep them. He can’t even keep himself.

As you drive home you think about what you’re going to say to you parents. You know they’re gonna be upset you left in the first place for someone who had ‘unknown origins’ but you never saw it that way. You really did love him, but you weren’t going to cry over a man. That just wasn’t in you. What would your mother say? You’d rather not think about what you father would say

when you pull up to the security gate the guard is surprised to see you, but none the less let’s you in and quickly gets in the phone. Most likely to tell your parents you were coming up no doubt. “Nothings changed,” you say to yourself as you drive through the landscape up to the manor. As you pull up to the mansion you see you mother running out to great you. “My baby! You’re home! I’ve missed you so much.” Your mother exclaimed as she kisses you all over your face. “Hey mama,” you laugh. “Where’s Dad?” You ask following her into the house. “Oh he’s up int the drawing room right now, he has a guess at the moment. Maybe it’s someone you might remember.” She says smirking to herself. “ I know that look mummy, who’s here?” “An old friends is all I’m going to say,” your mother had a cheeky look on her face when she said that. “Oh you’re up to something weird,” you say to her but ultimately you let it go.

“So are you going to tell you why you’ve come here all of a sudden after no contact for 5 years?” Your mother presses. “I doubt you don’t already know, I know you and daddy have been keeping tags on me since I left.” You answer her as she gives you an innocent face. “I do but I’d like to hear the story from you.” Your mother has been keeping tabs on you since you left, so she definitely knows the whole story. So you tell her everything. What they did and everything they’ve said about you. “Well good thing you didn’t have to deal with trivial matters like that anymore,” she says rolling her eyes at the thought of you ex. “What does that mean momma?” You ask catching the double meaning in her words. “It means you will have a chance to make things right for you and the family reputation.you know what we had to go though and cover up once you left.” She tells you low key reprimanding you at the same time.

*sigh* ”okay momma I’ll do whatever it takes to go back to being the head of the family, and kill those pieces of shit classily.” You tell your mom smirking. Your mom laughs at you change of mood, and leads you to the drawing room where you father is. You hear voices on the other side of the doors besides your fathers. Your mother open the door excited to show your father that you’re back home. When she does you dad looks like he expected to see you on the other side, while he looks at you but you’re focused on the man sitting across from him. “Jungkook,” You breathe out. “Hey y/n long no see,” he says with a breath taking smile. “ welcome home y/n we were actually just talking about you. Before we can accept you back we have one condition.” Your father explains to you. “And what is that daddy?” You ask already having an idea as you continue ti stare at Jungkook. Amazed at how much more mature he’s gotten.

“You have to agree to our previous arrangement, and marry Jungkook.” You father says not wasting anytime. Well at least he welcomed you back. You’d expected him to not speak to acknowledge your existence while you were there. “Okay. I’ll do it.” You rempli to your father watching him stand and make his way over to you. You weren’t expecting him to hug you, but he does. It’s the most loving hug you’ve ever received from you father. ”I’ve missed you babydoll,” he whispers kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you too daddy,” you say hugging him back trying not to cry.

After a while your mother steps in “I’d hate to break up this touching moment, but we need to get y/n ready for tonight.” You look at her confused “what’s tonight?” “Your engagement party of course!” She says excitedly “why did I think I’d at least have a week to get settled in. You guys already had this planned out didn’t you? I bet you guys called the Jeon family as soon as you found out I was coming right?” You interrogate. Your father chuckles next to you as you look at you parents incredulously. “It was your fathers idea. I said we should wait at least a day.” You mother adds. “ of course it was,” you say as your father looks the other direction with a cheeky smile.

you turn to look at Jungkook who’s been unusually quiet. Watching the scene in front of him. “Were you in on this too?” You ask him looking past your parents. “I actually just found out the moment before you came in,” he responds with a small smile. “But I can say it’s been some of the best news I’ve gotten all week. I really missed you y/n.” He says scratching the nape of his neck. You and Jungkook have been arranged since childhood. He’s always had a crush on you, it broke his heart when you refused to marry him for someone else. But now that he has you he’s not going to let you go again. “I missed you too JK, you’ve grown up so much I barely even recognized you,” you say chuckling. “Yeah I know right. It’s crazy how much people can change over a short amount of time.” He says looking at you with a look you just couldn’t decipher.

Before you could respond you mother cuts in again “Ma fille, we really need to get you ready for tonight. Ah please take her bags up to her room and get her into the proper attire.” You mother asks the head maid. “Oh and burn whatever she’s wearing.” She points at your outfit , covering her face with a look of disgust. “Cheri what is this atrocity you’re wearing. It hurts to look at.” You were wearing white beach shorts, a stripped tee and a green cardigan. It’s not what you were used to wearing when you were home. But it was comfortable and made you stand out less. “Momma it’s not that bad,” you defend. “No babydoll your mothers right. That’s not something anyone in our family would wear, maybe if the cardigan wasn’t the same shade of puke it would pass as inside clothes. No scratch that no one would ever wear that in their entire lives.” You father adds looking slightly disgusted. You look at you parents shocked at them reading you to filth. Behind them you see Jungkook holding his laughter while covering his face. Before you could defend yourself further you’re already being ushered out of the room.

[tsmukanii]

Heir to the Throne Pt. 2

Lowkey think this is shit. Enjoy!

You were sitting in Dr. Kinbott’s office with your head thrown back against her sofa as time moved unbearably slow. 

“Oh come on Y/N, this is your second appointment. We can talk more about your art if you’d like? But you have to discuss something with me.” You didn’t answer her right away, just continued to sit while playing with your hands. You felt the small ache in your chest remembering the conversation you had last night.

 _ 

“So you are here to keep an eye on Wednesday?” The hand who introduced himself to you as Thing, gave you a thumbs up. Honestly you weren’t exactly freaked out when you saw him, just confused on why he was knocking on your window. 

 “You aren’t exactly doing a good job if you need help getting to Ophelia Hall.” He was quick to defend himself though, signing to you that Wednesday was getting too suspicious of being watched so he had to duck down for a little bit. 

“Whatever it’s just past the quad and to the left heading towards the library.” 

Thank you

“You’re welcome, see you around campus I guess.” With that you opened the door for him and he scurried right out just as your phone started to ring. You were quick to answer, not wanting to leave your mother waiting.

“Y/n, are you alright? Larissa called me saying she was worried about you.” 

“Everyone is worried about me. When can I come home?” You were being short but you were angry at having to be here in the first place. 

“I know this isn’t the most ideal plan but if it keeps you hidden then it is all worth it my darling. But it’s not going to work if you keep getting into fights.” You knew she was right but it wasn’t your fault. 

“I promise you dear one, we will see each other soon. Now there hasn’t been any new developments?”

“Nothing’s been happening around here mom.”

“Y/N, you know I mean any changes with you. It’s very important you tell me the truth. If something is going on I need to know so your father can’t get to you.”

“He’s not my father!” Your outburst was unnecessary but you just hated the situation as a whole. The man was certainly not a father to you and he shouldn’t have been referred to as such. He was just the sperm donor who only wanted a child to take his place rather than incapable henchmen. 

“Dearheart, please calm down for me. We will get through this. I promise I won’t let him take you from me.”

–

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You quickly looked up to see Dr. Kinbott’s eyes, the overwhelming sense of dread creeping in.

“I’m worried ... .about my comic. My hero is having trouble staying a hero. He feels the weight of the world on his shoulders and he thinks about giving up his mantle. I’m not sure what I should have him do. Do you?”

Kinbott takes a minute to look at you before responding almost as if she was hesitant to answer. “Well I would tell him that there are so many people in his corner and counting on him. Sometimes heroes lose their way but there will always be those to help guide them into the light.” 

“...That was so corny. Geez I just wanted to know if I should have him pass it on and train someone new but I guess not. Anyways, time is up.” You got up from the couch with a smirk on your face taking in the incredulous look Kinbott had on her face before laughing a bit. 

“Oh we are going to talk about this next week Y/N!” You didn’t look back, just threw a wave to her over your shoulder before making your way downstairs.

You heard the end of the conversation before you reached the doors. “I wish you luck.”  Seeing Wednesday close the van’s door before Weems could say anything else was definitely something to ease your mind. 

“If only that was directed to me.”  You said when Wednesday turned around. You weren’t planning to hold her up so you gave her a nod while starting to move around her when you heard shuffling in her bag. 

“Hi Thing.” You slightly whispered so Weems wouldn’t be able to hear before moving closer to the van. What you didn’t catch was Wednesday gazing at you with a look of intrigue before heading upstairs. 

“How did it go?” The smile on Weems face was too big to say anything remotely sarcastic to at this moment. 

“It was fine, she helped me with my art. Is it ok if I go to the Weathervane for a bit? I need to think about some things.”  You could tell she was hesitant to let you go by yourself even if it was just down the street. 

“I promise I won’t cause any trouble and I’ll bring you back a hot chocolate?” You put a dazzling smile on your face, knowing her resolve was crumbling by the second. 

“And could you possibly get me a pastry as well?”

You could feel the stares on you when you walked in the cafe but you were used to it even before Nevermore. It wasn’t more about what you were, it was more about how you presented yourself. So the uniform and the choice of pants instead of the skirt just had people more baffled by you. 

With your enhanced hearing you of course heard every whisper, every scoff, every laugh but you tuned them out, making your way to the counter and placing your order with the normie, Tyler who seemed cool with your presence. Taking a seat near the door, you start to work on some sketches while waiting for your order. 

“Your artwork is somewhat adequate.” You barely heard her coming. Her footsteps were so light, almost like she wasn’t even touching the ground. 

“Thanks, so you’re making your escape now? Honestly I thought you would be gone within the same hour as you arrived.” She seemed at a loss for words, just staring at you before moving on from the subject.

“How do you know Thing?” 

“He knocked on my window last night looking for you. He’s shit at tailing people.” Thing was quick to peek from Wednesday’s bag to flick you off but quickly ducked down at the sound of footsteps. 

“What are Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?” You closed your eyes in exasperation. You just couldn’t catch a break. When you looked at the small group of normies, you didn’t even try to hold back your laugh. 

“Says the ones dressed as pilgrims.” 

“Yes, why are you dressed as religious fanatics?” 

“We work at Pilgrim World?” One said like that was the most valid explanation while turning over the menu showing the said theme park. You were starting to get bored of the conversation, letting Wednesday insult them again in her unique way but when she stood up you knew just how interesting this was about to be. 

“So tell me freak, have you ever been with a normie?”

“I never found one that could handle me.” With that you got up out of your seat, for once not wanting this to turn violent but apparently the suddenness scared the normie. His friends grabbed at Wednesday making you look back to see her kicking their asses but when you turned back he swung at you landing a solid hit making your head jerk to the side. 

You smiled when you felt your nose start to bleed. It went down so quick after seeing the normie shit himself when you looked back at him. But next thing you know all three of them are on the ground and one's arm is pointing the wrong way. 

You turned to Wednesday to see her already staring at you smirking almost. You couldn’t help but smile thinking she looked nice putting people in their place. But the little moment was ruined when the door opened and the sheriff walked in. 

“Tyler, what the hell’s going on here? 

“They were harassing customers and they put them in their place.” The sheriff looked you both up and down but you still had a goofy smile on your face. 

“This one I can believe but this little thing? Did you help her?”  

“Apologies Sheriff, I sent this one to fetch me something but this one slipped away from me.” She gestured towards you and Wednesday accordingly. You gathered your stuff already moving out the door to the van. You heard the rest of the conversation from there thinking it was weird that the Sheriff had a vendetta against Wednesday’s father but you could just imagine the gleam in her eye at the information. 

The ride back was totally uneventful, just another earful from Weems about fighting but strangely Wednesday came to your defense taking the blame and being struck for merely trying to stop a fight from starting. 

The rest of your day was spent finishing homework and planning out storylines. Now you were sitting on the edge of your balcony listening to Wednesday's elegant cello playing throughout the night. It was soothing as it was chilling to say the least. When she had finally finished you went to go back in before you slipped as you stood up. 

“Oh shit!” You let out a scream as you started to slide down the roof, twisting and turning as you tried to hold on but to no avail as you reached the edge and went into a freefall off the side of the dorms, the ground approaching rapidly. Closing your eyes you tried to brace for impact but it never came. 

“Y/N?”

[asbealthgn]

okay I keep seeing posts about steve dying in season 5 and I simply do not claim that energy BUT it got me thinking about what would happen if he did? and uuuh this lil baby ficlet about steve and eddie in the afterlife happened

———

Steve opens his eyes and there’s no monsters, no Upside Down, no Robin or Nancy or Dustin. There’s just the soft sound of water lapping against wooden boards, filtered afternoon light, and the dusty interior of Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

The hell?

“Good to see you again, Harrington.”

Steve sits up so fast that he would normally see stars at the edges of his vision. Guess being dead means that doesn’t happen anymore. Eddie Munson is leaning back against the wall, smoking a cigarette and grinning at him.

“What are—why—” Steve takes a breath and tries to gather his thoughts, because there are too many questions swirling around his head that he wants to ask. “Why am I here?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Here, like, in the afterlife?” he asks, “I hate to break it to you, man, but you kinda died.”

“Yeah, no, I got that,” Steve says, “I mean, why here? In the boathouse?” If the afterlife is just this shitty little wooden structure he’s gonna be so mad.

But Eddie just shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, dude,” he says, “When I kicked it, I woke up in my chair at Hellfire. I think it’s supposed to be some place that was significant to you before you died.”

Significant. What’s significant about this place over any other place in Steve’s life? Unless… No. That’s ridiculous. 

“Was anyone there?” Steve asked. 

Eddie gets a sort of sad look on his face. “My mom,” he says, “She died when I was little.” But then his face brightens again. “She’s here! Not, like, here, in this moment, but around. I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.”

“That’s really nice,” Steve says. He wonders how it happened that Eddie is his welcome wagon to the Great Beyond. Probably because the only people Steve’s really lost have been distant family he never knew that well. Eddie was the first person whose death cut him right to the core. 

Eddie pushes off the wall and crosses over to Steve, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “It’s so weird to talk about her,” Eddie says, “Because I’m so used to being sad about her being dead. But now so am I, and I’m getting to see her.”

“Where did your mom wake up, when she died?” Steve asks, wondering if maybe that’s too nosy of a question. 

“She said it was the little café down the road from our old apartment,” Eddie says. “She always loved it ‘cause it got so much sun.”

The image makes Steve smile. He imagines Eddie sitting on a woman’s lap in a big, sunny window, watching people pass by outside. “So is that what the afterlife is?” he asks, “Just a whole bunch of places from our lives?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it all out,” he says, “I haven’t been dead that long, and anyway, time is funny here. I’ve explored a little, but there’s a lot to see. Mainly I’m trying to find some door that’ll let me go back to earth, because there are some people I would love to haunt the shit out of.”

Steve laughs. He could get behind that. Eddie reaches out and pokes him in the knee.

“So what makes the boathouse significant to you?” he asks, “I’ll be honest, I figured it would be, like, your house or something. I didn’t think you even knew Reefer Rick.”

“No, I didn’t,” Steve says, “The only time I’ve ever been here were those couple times with you.”

“So why…?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, waiting for some sort of explanation that would make Steve waking up in the afterlife in a place he’d spent a grand total of maybe two hours in make sense. 

The only answer Steve can come up with is pretty embarrassing. He lets his eyes drift to the wall, the spot where Eddie had him pinned with that broken bottle. With everything else going on, he’d barely even had time to acknowledge that all of that had made him feel some very confusing things, because they had to rush off and help Max and kill Vecna and then try to kill him again when the first time didn’t stick. Steve hadn’t taken the time to muddle through why he felt so much every time Eddie grinned at him or touched him or called him big boy. Then Eddie had died, and it didn’t matter anyway, because nothing could ever become of it. 

Except now Steve’s dead too. And Eddie’s here.

“Uh,” Steve says, stalling for time. Eddie follows his gaze over to the wall and then looks back at Steve.

“What’re you lookin’ at, big boy?” he asks. 

And fuck, who knew blushing was possible in the afterlife? Steve meets Eddie’s eyes that are so dark in the shadows of the boathouse but that he’s seen glow gold in the sunlight. Something crosses over Eddie’s face and it’s like he knows what Steve’s thinking. He opens his mouth and starts to speak. “Steve—”

“D’you wanna go out sometime?” Steve blurts. He’s already dead; might as well take some risks, right?

Eddie laughs and Steve doesn’t know if it’s a good laugh or a bad laugh. But then he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand. “Yeah, I do,” he says, “I’ll be honest, I haven’t really come across any good date spots in the afterlife yet, but I’m sure they’re out there.”

Steve stands, pulling Eddie up with him. He looks at Eddie’s face, his eyes that are sparkling even in the shadows, his smile that has been so inviting from the very first second Steve saw it. “Bet we can find something,” he murmurs.

Grinning, Eddie pulls him over to the door and grabs the handle. “C’mon then, big boy,” he says, “Let’s explore.”