#And I imagine she and his uncle would be the first thing he would talk about even if in passing

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

airp2ds

read part one of airpods here!!!

wc: 2k reader: femme!afab (matt calls reader a "pretty girl", is called a "young lady" by their uncle-- it's meant to feel derogatory ofc, reader is wearing a skirt, reader dances at a strip club in stilettos) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- less of a bonkers scenario, but some really rich and fun plot development this time; funny & angst & fluff surprisingly-- stepcest obvi and we discuss it summary: after (y/n)'s little stunt a few days ago, their whole family gathers for an anything but peaceful dinner. rivalnewstepbrother!matthew has no interest in helping you out of this awful situation. or does he? yooooooo this only took 4 months to post, but it's perfect so hope you'll forgive me!! i TOLD you i'd do it eventually. and i did. missing organ and all. ilyyy thanks for bearing with me ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, stepcest and we don't ignore it, p-in-v penetrative sex, brief heavy petting/fingering, not entirely safe cum destination lmao, unprotected obviously (do what you want, be smart), reader is a dancer at a strip club and their family is appalled, swearing... this one made me feel again yay

you stick your fork in a potato and pop it in your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you stare at your plate. your entire extended family converses around you at the long, glass dining table, celebrating your new stepdad’s birthday with your mom’s locally famous honey ham and roasted potatoes. 

everyone’s having a goodman ball.

everyone except... you.

after suffering such a devastating defeat a couple nights ago, you’d been avoiding matthew like the plague. tail between your legs, you’d stood up from your stepbrother’s bed after he left you high and dry— sulking all the way back to your room.

you’d been avoiding matthew so diligently since then that this dinner was the first time you’d seen him since his fingers were inside you. he’s eating a little too well and talking to all of your family members, oozing respect and likability. 

you’ve never hated anyone more.

“now matthew,” you grandmother starts, reaching out her hand to him, “please tell us more about what you’ve been doing abroad. it all sounds so important from what your father’s mentioned!”

matthew smiles humbly. “i’ve been pursuing a career in performance in seoul! it’s really not all that important in the scheme of things, but it’s definitely been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.”

“don’t be too humble, matthew,” your stepdad calls from the head of the table. “he works tirelessly day and night to accomplish his goal! he’s such a great kid.”

“we’re so very proud. i never imagined having a child with such passion and drive!” your mom chimes in obliviously. her eyes widen when she realizes what she said and she clears her throat awkwardly. “i mean, a son, that is.”

you close your eyes, stabbing a roasted red potato and letting your fork clatter onto the fine china plate. 

“(y/n), how are you doing?” your uncle asks quickly. “have you found a better job yet?”

“i’m doing fine, thank you,” you answer through gritted teeth. “and i like my job. i’m not interested in finding one that society would categorize as better at this time.”

“but a young lady like you shouldn’t be—.”

“but what i am interested in finding a better version of,” you interrupt, picking up your glass of wine and downing the remaining contents, “is a family. one that doesn’t judge me or compare me to my new stepbrother— who, if i’m to judge from how you all indulge him, is jesus christ reincarnated! how divinely exciting!”

“(y/n),” your mother scolds, grabbing the empty wine glass out of your hand. “don’t be so cruel to your brother.”

“he’s not my brother,” you assert, snatching the wine glass back. in a flash, it slips from your fingers and shatters onto the dining room floor.

“you always do this,” your mother sighs, shaking her head in disappointment. she can’t even look at you. "you get so jealous when anyone is doing better than you are. i’m just so tired of your selfish immaturity.”

“perhaps it's time for you to get your own apartment and stop freeloading off of us,” your stepfather says with a sigh. “then you’ll find the motivation to stop working at that indecent bar and start making a proper living.”

your stomach flips at the threat. “i grew up in this house. you moved in a year ago after the mortgage was already paid off. doesn’t that make you as much of a fucking freeloader as i am?”

“(y/n), stop this right now,” your mom tries again to quiet you.

“you talk like that and you think you could ever be as well-liked as my son? the—”

“dad,” matthew says, trying to interrupt the rant that’s already begun. he should know by now it’s too late.

“—reason that no one here ever boasts about your accomplishments is because you have none. the reason no one ever praises how respectable you are is because it would be a lie. you—”

“dad,” matthew says again, louder this time but it still doesn’t reach the ears of the valentino-suited man turning red in the face.

“—are an ungrateful brat of an adult child that doesn’t even have enough vision for their life to stop working at a strip club.”

everyone at the dinner table gasps. so the truth has been set free: ‘bar’ had been the code word your ashamed mother and stepfather had been using in place of ‘strip club’ for the past year.

guess their resentment had finally outweighed their shame.

your gaze travels down the table, landing on matthew. he’s staring at his lap awkwardly.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you say, standing up from your chair and giving a big, facetious curtsy. “the whore will leave the table now.”

——

you slam your bedroom door behind you, storming over to your bed and picking up your favorite plushy— the one your dad had bought you for your high school graduation before he... it’s a baby fox, pink blush across his smiling face. usually the only aggression you feel towards him is that of cuteness, but suddenly you find yourself filled with rage.

how had you not noticed before just how much barnaby foxworth iii looks like your stupid fucking stepbrother!?

you turn around, hurling baby foxworth across your room with a scream. your eyes widen as the plushy lands in the hands of his human twin. you hadn’t heard him come in over the blood rushing in your ears. 

matthew looks at the plushy, brow furrowing as he studies it. “i feel like i’ve seen this face somewhere before.”

“get the fuck out of my room,” you growl, walking over to him and grabbing baby foxworth. you frown as matthew holds onto him, not letting you pry your own plushy from his hands. “let go of him! what the fuck is your problem!?”

“i distinctly remember you stealing something from me a couple days ago and making it quite the fucking challenge to get it back,” matthew argues, pulling a little harder. “besides, how much can you really want something that you just threw across the room?”

you continue a tug-o-war for your beloved baby fox until you hear a sudden ripping noise. matthew lets go instantly, fear splayed across his face. you take baby foxworth in your arms, finding the fabric tear at the base of his little neck.

“i’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “i really didn’t meant to—.”

“you’re sorry?” you repeat, jaw clenching as you step towards him. “sorry for what? sorry that you mamed barnaby foxworth iii? sorry that you barged into my room without knocking? sorry that i’ve made yet another mess out of a family celebration?”

“(y/n)…”

“sorry that all you do while they ridicule me is sit there and stare at your plate? sorry that your dad married my mom?”

“wait, (y/n)—…”

“sorry that i work at a strip club? sorry for what we did the other day?”

“i—…,” he stutters hopelessly. “i—.”

suddenly, your lips are on matthew’s— his body tensing at the unexpected action. you pull back, eyes meeting his.

they’re wide, shocked, confused. his hand reaches towards your face quickly and you think for a moment he’s going to slap you with it, but instead, he cups your jaw.

holding you still, he brings his lips back down to touch yours again. it’s a slow, languid kiss that, in and of itself, feels like an apology. a genuine one. 

it’s overwhelming. it challenges everything you thought you knew about this stranger you were now forced to call family.

you step back, clutching baby foxworth tighter to your chest. 

“they were so impressed when you told them you’re a dancer,” you whisper, tears beginning to spill over. “why were they so disgusted when i told them i am, too?”

his face falls as he thinks about your words. “i think you know why.”

you press your lips together, a sardonic huff of a laugh escaping you. did you really think you’d get sympathy from him?

“but it’s not fair,” matthew continues. “it’s not fair that they treat you that way.”

you’re afraid to look up at him, eyes remaining fixed on the tear at your plushy’s neck. “i didn’t even think you’d noticed.”

“i’ll admit, i didn’t see it at first. it’s not like i’m here that often,” he replies with a sigh. “and i guess i did think you were the problem. and i do still think you’re part of the problem, don’t get me wrong.”

you roll your eyes, looking down at the floor.

“but maybe you’ve forgotten that no one knows what my dad can be like more than i do,” matthew says, wrapping his hand gently around your upperarm. “i thought maybe he’d finally changed for the better after marrying your mom, but i know now that’s far from the truth. and i can try my best to help you from now on, if you’ll let me.”

“thanks,” you say quietly as your eyes meet his. he smiles softly at you before you promptly brush his hand off your arm. “but i still don’t like you.”

your hostility just widens his smile. “i thought you’d say that.”

you turn, walking back to your bed and placing baby foxworth by your pillows. you think about what your family must still be saying about you around the dinner table. your thoughts are halted, however, when a warm, muscular chest is soon pressed against your back.

“i was just wondering,” he says softly against your ear, arm snaking around your waist. “there has to be something about me that you like, right? i mean, you're the one who wanted my face in your cunt. and don't think i haven't heard you call me perfect a few times now.”

“i meant it as an insult,” you breathe as a hand reaches underneath your skirt— fingers beginning to pad delicate circles over your panties.

“was screaming my name while cumming all over my fingers also supposed to be taken as an insult?” he asks, knee against the back of yours until you tumble gently onto your bed— his arms catching you and flipping you on your back to face him. “you must’ve really been trying to offend me.”

matthew shimmies your skirt and panties down your legs and you find yourself assisting to kick it off with your foot onto the floor. he laughs much too smugly as he unzips his slacks and discards them onto the hardwood. you hover your foot over his groin, brow raising in a threat.

“okay, okay,” he admits in defeat. as a grin stretches across your lips, he bites at your thighs hungrily and sighs. “god, i wish i wasn’t your brother.”

“matt!” you screech in horror and he takes the opportunity to sink himself inside you. you gasp at the sudden stretch, a protest turning to a whimper as he smirks at you. “matt...”

“no need to worry, baby,” he coos, tip of his cock reaching your backmost wall. “it’s pretty obvious there’s a divorce on the way. my dad’s already let it slip to me about how he secretly blew all the money in their joint savings on a third yacht.”

“my mom’s been fucking her tennis instructor for two months,” you reply, trying to hold yourself together as matthew increases his pace. “and her golf instructor. and her pilates instructor. and her business lawyer. and her—.”

matthew’s lips meet yours. “you’re so fucking hot.”

you run your hand up his chest, tugging at his shirt until he pulls it off over his head. it’s a shame to admit it, but... he is perfect.

“but if our parents get divorced, we’ll never see each other,” you say with a pout. you shake your head quickly, realizing what you just said. “which i’m totally fine with. but you’d probably be really upset.”

a particularly rough thrust sends you reeling— crying out in pleasure and totally blowing your act. 

“yeah, it’d be really hard for me,” matthew patronizes, mimicking your pout. “g’nna cum for me, pretty girl? hm?”

“fuck,” you whine, nearly at your peak. you honestly had no idea how good at dancing matthew was, but if he was half as good at dancing as he was at fucking, then even goddamn dick van dyke would be proud. your walls flutter around him, a chorus of moans as he pushes you over the edge.

“oh my god,” matthew rasps as you reach your climax, his thrusts growing more desperate and sporadic. “pussy’s so fucking perfect, baby. made me want you so bad, i—.”

he pulls out quickly, a few pumps before painting your cunt with his cum as he moans under his breath. he stares at the sight for a few moments before his head tilts thoughtfully and a smirk upturns a corner of his lips.

“something to share with the class?” you ask, one eyebrow piquing.

he laughs, shrugging at your prodding. “i was just thinking about how i definitely wouldn’t be the golden child anymore if anyone knew about this.”

“i dunno. i think somehow you’d still come out unscathed,” you say, shaking your head. “i must’ve tempted you. coerced you. blackmailed you.”

he smiles at you sadly. “listen, i know that... i know things must suck for you right now and—... i mean it when i say i’m gonna try my best to fix—.”

“matthew!”

you both freeze as the sound of your stepfather’s voice rings from downstairs. matthew clears his throat, calling back, “yeah?”

“come downstairs! aunt bethany wants to talk to you about visiting seoul.”

“okay!” matthew answers. he rolls his eyes. “i hate your aunt bethany.”

“you and me both, kid,” you reply, sitting up on your hands as matthew hurriedly gets dressed. “have fun.”

“come with me,” he requests, picking up your skirt from off the floor and holding it out to you. 

you consider it, but shake your head. “tell me if you hear any good gossip about me. i have to get ready for my shift anyway.”

“really? you’re gonna go strip after this?” matthew asks, lips parted in surprise.

“dance,” you correct. “i’m gonna go dance.”

he smiles. “when do you get back?”

“around one,” you answer, standing up and walking over to your vanity. “why?”

“my flight’s at midnight,” he says, biting his lip. your mascara clatters to the table as a tiny, annoying ball of disappointment forms in your chest. “so i guess i’ll catch you another time.”

you don’t say anything— just continue doing your makeup as you try to ignore that growing ball. 

“okay then,” matthew says finally, opening your door. “bye, (y/n).”

“my mom’s birthday is next month.”

the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. you don’t regret it.

“she likes you more than me, so,” you continue with as much nonchalance as you can feign. “she’d probably want to see you.”

matthew catches your eye through your mirror. he just smiles.

~ EPILOGUE ~

you clamber through your bedroom door in the dark, stilettos still on as you stumble into bed and flop onto it in exhaustion. you clap your hands— bedside light turning on as you reach for baby foxworth. you cradle him under your chin, squeezing him tight. suddenly, you remember the tear in his neck from when matthew had ripped him after dinner. 

you feel around for the hole, but are surprised when you find a crinkly, purple sticky note instead. on it, is written: 

told you i’m gonna try to fix everything.  — your favorite brother ;)

“disgusting,” you mutter under your breath, turning your attention back to baby foxworth’s neck hole. except...

there is no hole.

okay, matty, you think with a smile. let’s see what you’ve got.

[sweetpastillas]

last chance to visualize a tua x we dont talk about bruno skit/animatic in my head before s3 affects my perception of it

[norrisleclercf1]

I love Mafia Dad Max and the twins 😭

Imagine if they have another baby, this time a baby girl, the twins are a little bit older, maybe 10 years old, and they go full protective mood over they’re sister 🥹

A/N: This is so cute, imagine you're finally bringing her home and they fuss over you and baby and Max is like ????? You're ten, sit your asses down

"She's my sister," Casper snaps, hating that he couldn't go to the hospital. "She's my sister too, dummy." Fabian grumbles, throwing himself into the couch as their Uncle Carlos and Lando talked in the kitchen. "Nuh huh! She'll like me better, so she'll be my sister!" Casper whines, sitting on the floor pushing back his dark blonde hair.

"Stupid! That's not how biology works!" Fabian snarks, that has Carlos sticking his head out. "Hey, no arguing." "Sorry, Uncle Carlos!" Both boys shoot back, Casper pouting as he hated getting scolded by his uncles, but Fabian could care less.

"Do you think Mama is okay?" Casper asks, ever the Mama's boy. "Yeah, she's strong like Dad. Besides, you really think Dad would allow Mama to be hurt?" Fabian asks, giving his baby brother a pointed look. "Well, noooo. But I heard giving birth is hard, Uncle Lando said so." Casper whispers, knowing he shouldn't have been listening to his Uncle's conversations.

"Please, Dad wouldn't let Mama do this if it'd hurt her," If you were home, you would've snorted at the boys conversation. The front door beeps which has both boys shooting up and rushing the door. You step in first, as Max was carrying your new baby girl Violet. "Mama!" You about cry seeing your two boys, still filled with the hormones. "Be careful with me boys," You warn them gently and your sweet boys listen.

They gently hug you, not as tight as they want, but at least you were back home and safe. "Told you," Fabian whispers, Casper sticking out his tongue which has you giggle. "Told him what, Fabby?" You shuffle gently and smile at Carlos and Lando who leave you be, knowing you just wanted your boys.

"I said, Dad wouldn't let you be hurt. Dad wouldn't let you have a baby if it hurt you," You snicker as does Lando and Carlos. Casper pinches his eyebrows, not understanding why you were laughing. "It's not funny, Mama. Dad really wouldn't let you do this if it hurt you," You sigh at your boys slight protective streak they've gotten from their father.

Speaking of their father, Max walks in silently, holding the baby car seat, Violet fast asleep in it. You loved this sight, Max a little normal looking with his beard little grown out, hair messy and just looking so good, who could blame you for wanting another baby, nothing was hotter to you than Max being a father.

"Is that the baby?" Casper asks, moving away from you gently as Max kneels down and opens his arms for his first baby. "Yep, this is Violet. Violet, this is your brother Casper." Max holds Casper who leans into his father's arms smiling down at her. "She's so tiny," He whispers, staring at her in awe.

Carlos and Lando grab their things, waving bye silently letting you have this family moment. You smile as you watch Casper and Max admiring baby Violet. "She's pretty," He whispers and Max chuckles kissing Casper cheek and admiring his boy. "You were once this small," Fabian slides out of your hold and walks over and peaks over the cover and wrinkles his nose.

"She looks like you, Dad. I was hoping she'd look like Mama." You snort out a laugh and cover your mouth as Max sighs and tugs Fabian into his other arm. "Bugger, she looks like your Mama." He chuckles and Fabian makes a noise. "Nooo, Mama is pretty, she's all scrunchy and ugly. That's you Dad," You can't help it anymore and start to laugh as Max just sighs and gives up knowing Fabian was to much like him to argue.

"We'll protect you and Mama," Casper whispers touching her little hand which flexes open and holds Casper's fingers. His eyes light up at that, and Fabian frowns and sticks out his finger, Violet opening up her little hand and grabbing Fabian finger who gets this look across your face.

"I'll kill anyone who hurts you," "Alrightttt," Max groans as he stands and moves the boys away, "You're ten, go play with your dinosaurs," Casper runs off laughing as Fabian soon follows. You and Max share a look which has you both giggling like you were teenagers again.

[ihavethedreamies]

Easy | Felix | Easy to Expert (1)

Lee Yongbok (Felix - Stray Kιds)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Biting, One Singular Spank, He Gets a Bit Rough, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Don't do what they do.)

Summary: In which you can't normally get off and Felix doesn't like this one bit.

Author's Note: Imagine trying to write something like this with a straight face because you are at your uncle's house in the living room with everyone else there and you can't go anywhere else...

Also your friend's name is Yuna here and she's not a reference to any idol or anything, this was just the name that came to mind.

-> Part 2 <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He had the stamina of a work horse; I thought I was going to die."

"Really?" You weren't convinced.

"No, seriously. I had never came that many times in one session." Your friend shook her head and you blinked. You watched her take a swig of beer and you took another bite of chicken.

"You started without us?" Someone whined behind you, and you turned to see Jisung and Minho coming up to your table. The younger man pouted as he sat down in the empty chair next to you while Minho sat on his other side.

"You guys are half an hour late." Yuna sneered at them, waving a drumstick aggressively.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked.

"Seungmin can't make it, Jeongin is sick. Chan and Changbin are on their way from the studio. Felix and Hyunjin just left campus after dance practice." Minho listed off, waving his hand up to get the auntie's attention to get beer.

"Is Jinnie going to shower first? Poor thing looks like he fell in a pond after dance practice." Yuna bounced a bit as she talked since the waitress brought over the order of Tteokbokki you had ordered.

"That's why they're late." Jisung spoke around a mouthful.

"Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me because I apparently wasn't enough for his libido." Yuna continued her story despite the fact two of the boys had arrived and Chan and Changbin were arriving.

"Woah, what?" Chan laughed setting his bag down next to her and the other man sat across from Minho.

"Is this the same guy who said he wished he had two dicks to fuck twice as much?" Changbin asked as you watched his shirt tighten over his chest as he took his jacket off. Everything he wore was so tight…You were taken out of your zone-out when he scoffed, "My eyes are up here (Y/N)." Everyone laughed at you and your face tingled a bit, you took a sip of beer not meeting his eyes.

"Wait, what?" Chan asked again and Yuna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I think he was possessed by a sex demon or something, geez."

"Who are we talking about?" The oldest man asked. Yuna then recapped everything she had told you to Chan who stared blankly at her the whole time.

"Okay, way more than I ever needed to know." He shook his head and grabbed his chopsticks.

"You don't even know the half of it." Changbin huffed and the other girl gasped dramatically.

"You asked me to tell you most of it!"

"Not everything! I really didn't care about who you did everything with first, that was a long ass list."

"A list of asses?" Minho seemed to tune in at a very specific time.

"Do I want to know?" A new voice groaned as Hyunjin sat at the end of the table. Felix came around to the other end near you and took a seat.

"Yuna is sharing WAY too much again." Jisung's eyes got big to emphasize his point.

"Well, this started because (Y/N)-"

"NO!" You almost leaped across the table to shut her up. That unfortunately made the boys all the more curious and it was getting steadily louder as they urged you to share. If not but to spare the rest of the patrons and workers, you finally relented.

"I just told her that I didn't see too much point in rushing into sex in a relationship because I don't get much out of it." You didn't look at anyone, just cast a glare at Yuna, then back at your beer bottle.

"Well, you need to find someone else then." Minho told you matter-of-factly.

"It doesn’t matter, and it's not like partners haven't tried…I just can't…I-I can't finish…" You mumbled the last part, and it went deathly silent. You could feel the eyes on you but for some reason, the ones to your left were burning. Glancing up to meet Felix's stare, you're startled by his expression. He looked…intense. You shifted under his gaze. He knew you liked him, and you knew he liked you, but not much had come of it. You two kissed briefly a few weeks ago but it was interrupted, and it hadn’t happened since.

"Wait, seriously? Have you ever?" Chan asked, he had stopped eating. This was serious to him.

"Yeah, but it took forever. I had to do it myself and it wasn't easy." You shrugged. Because of this fact you hadn't had very many sexual encounters or partners. It’s just frustrating when nothing ever came of it.

"So that's when I told her that my last boyfriend might be able to do it since he got me off like six times at once." Yuna explained as she shoved more food in her mouth.

"Did you ex ever do it?" Jisung asked and you nodded.

"Once." That wasn't why you had broken up; he had moved away for work and long distance didn't work too well so you drifted apart.

"Have I ever told you guys about my college roommate's girlfriend?" Hyunjin cut in and quickly everyone was diverted over to his story of the fact that this girl was not loyal by any means. And neither was her boyfriend. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was both of their type and he ended up having to switch rooms. The night continued and as more food was eaten, more alcohol was consumed. The rowdiness became too much, and you were more or less kicked out. Yuna was drunk and Changbin promised to get her home in one piece, so he left with her on his back. Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin followed suit since they all were going to the same place, and you were left with Minho and Felix.

"I'll walk her home. Go check on Jeongin, he might be asleep already but he's not texting back." Felix told the older man who nodded and said goodbye so you two were left alone. You had only one beer that night and Felix didn't even finish his, so you were not even tipsy.

"I-I can get home okay, I didn't drink much." You tried to wave him off.

"It’s okay. Just because you're sober doesn't mean I should let you go alone." He smiled softly and you internally gushed over how pretty he was.

"Thanks." Beginning to head in the opposite direction of everyone else, you two walked in silence for most of the time, but it was companionable. In your head you just kept replaying the small kiss from a few weeks before, not really sure why you were looping on it. When you got to your building, you expected him to leave you at the door, but he opened the door for you and led you toward the elevator.

"D-Do you want to come in? I have some cheesecake left that I can't finish on my own…" You couldn't meet his gaze as you waited for the elevator.

"Sure, thanks." His deep voice was so warming, and you wondered what it would sound like whispering in your ear. You shook your head to clear the thought and got in the lift to get to your floor. Keying in your pin code, the door chimed, and you let him into your apartment. You lived alone and so your place had some clutter about. You hung your coat and bag up, changed to slippers, then moved to clear the papers and pens off the couch. After moving the stuff into a more organized pile on the coffee table, you stood and turned to go to the kitchen, but instead ran into Felix's chest. He was wearing a grey turtleneck that was way tighter than you though it would be on him. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and his hand moved to steady you when you stumbled in surprise at his proximity. Compared to other men, he wasn't very tall, but he was still quite a bit taller than you. When the hands that steadied you moved from your arms to your waist, you were pulled to him even closer. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctually gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. When your eyes met, he leaned in and as his lips hovered over yours, his deep voice rumbled through you.

"Can I?"

"Y-yes." Your hands moved to rest closer to his neck and he kissed you. This one was different than before. Last time was chaste and soft, but this was growing heated fast. Felix tilted his head more and licked at your bottom lip prompting you to open your mouth. You moaned softly as his tongue invaded your mouth and when he groaned back it was like thunder shook you. Reluctantly, you let him pull away so you both could take a breather.

"Was what you said true? You really can't cum?"

"M-most of the time." It was embarrassing to talk about it in front of everyone, but for some reason it seemed like Felix took it personally.

"Hm. If you let me, I might be able to help." He leaned down some to say this right into your ear, then he sucked on your ear lobe. You shuddered and tilted your head to let him get better access to your neck. He laid searing kisses along your skin, and you swallowed hard.

"O-okay." You were a bit reluctant since it hadn't worked well before. At the same time, he was turning you on way faster than anyone or anything else before. You were not blind, or deaf, he was incredibly attractive, and you would be stupid to say no. Felix's lips pulled into a smile against your throat and he sucked on that spot hard, his teeth digging in slightly. You moaned louder than you meant to, and he could feel your throat vibrate as you did. Not realizing he could pull you closer, when he did you felt him hard against your stomach. His lips moved from your neck, which now had at least three bruises on it, back to your mouth and he dominated the kiss, taking complete control. Finally, to gain more oxygen, he pulled away from you and your head was swimming. He could sense that you were dazed, so he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to your room. Setting you down at the end of your bed, he kneeled before you, the look on his face shocked you. You were expecting a fire there, lust, but it was so warm and soft, and you weren't sure how to react.

"I'm doing this because I like you so much. I hate that no one's made you feel good like you deserve. But at the same time…" The hand on your waist dug into your flesh and his expression sharpened, "I want to be able to say I'm the only one that can say he did. Easy." His confession made your walls clench around nothing.

"Will you let me?" Felix asked.

"Of…of course. I like you too-" He cut you off with another devouring kiss and his hands wandered under your sweater and helped you take it off. If you had known this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn such a plain set of underwear. As the make-out session continued he also removed your socks and pants and he finally pulled back to take his own clothes off. You watched with rapt attention as his turtleneck came off, and…damn. Felix was way more ripped than you thought he would be. Not quite to the level of Chan or Changbin…You were even more enthralled as he took his belt off and undid his jeans to let them fall. His hard cock was straining against the black fabric of his tight briefs, but he left them on as he kneeled before you again. He stood as high as he could on his knees, making him eye level with you.

"Can I?" He reached around your back, and you nodded so he could unhook your plain nude bra. As he took it off, he gently bumped his forehead against yours and flashed a smile.

"You're so pretty." He cooed and you huffed, looking away in embarrassment.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." You mumbled and he giggled. Felix laid a soft kiss on your lips then began to move down. To your neck, collarbone, sternum, then down your right breast where he latched his mouth around your nipple. You exhaled and let him do what he wanted. He didn't garner much of a reaction, but it felt better than it normally did. He hummed in thought and then he laved his tongue around the peak of your breast, then his teeth slightly dug in, and you gasped. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he sucked hard on your nipple again and your skin tingled. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and he pulled away with a pop and moved to do the same to the other side. Your breathing was getting a bit heavier and as he pulled away from your chest, he pressed his hand on your sternum, telling you to lay back. You did so and as you did; he straight up bit your left breast on the swell of the flesh. This pulled a surprised moan from you, and he smirked, pulling back.

"You left a mark!" You scoffed and he laughed, "You're going to end up with a lot more, love." You gaped at him and before you could answer, his mouth was back on you, kissing over your ribs. You sighed and he moved down to your belly button, then licked a path up to under your breasts. His actions heated your skin, and he moved back down to the waistband of your panties.

"You okay with this?" His fingers had slipped under the fabric to run along your butt, his face close to your covered pussy. He could smell your arousal already and couldn't wait to bury his tongue inside you.

"Yes. How about I tell you if I'm not and you just do whatever you want." You finally told him. You loved that he asked and made sure, but you just wanted him to keep going.

"Whatever I want?" He whispered to himself, and his intense gaze met yours.

"Are you sure, love?"

"Y-yes." You felt like a small furry creature about to be devoured by a tiger.

"Hm." He smirked and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, dragging you to the end of the bed. Felix pressed his face into your covered cunt and licked at your clit through the fabric. You twitched a bit, but not enough for his liking. He clicked his tongue and instead of pulling your panties off, he tore them off. The side hem was fraying a bit and it allowed him to rip the fabric and he tossed the remnant away. You would have complained if it was a nicer pair. The display of strength was incredibly attractive. Once again, Felix's hands gripped your ass, hauling you closer and immediately shoved his tongue into your cunt. You exhaled harshly, laying back. It was if he was a man lost in the desert and you an oasis. He was practically drinking from you, devouring you. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue reached as deep as he could get it. You grunted slightly, surprised at how good it felt. He noticed that every time the tip of his nose hit your button that you flinched very slightly. Removing his face from between your legs for a moment, he took his thumbs and spread you open, and you squealed. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything, so he kept going, smirking as you covered your face. Licking another stripe from your core to your clit, he sealed his lips around the little bud and sucked as hard as he could. Your hips jumped slightly, and your breathing picked up, but it wasn't enough yet. Furrowing his brow, he pulled back again, tipping his head. If he wasn't doing what he was it would have been rather cute. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He took his thumb once again and rubbed a circle over your clit to see how you reacted. Glancing up he pushed harder against it to fully expose it, then he leaned forward to suck again. It was a stronger feeling than before and it made your hips jump again but then he did something unexpected, he placed your clit between his teeth and bit down a bit.

"Fuck!" You twitched hard, he wrapped his arm around your hips to hold them down, then he sucked again and gave another little nibble.

"F-Felix-" You gasped, and you were getting close. It was a different feeling than even the few times before. As he abused your poor little clit, he quickly inserted two fingers in your rapidly wetting cunt. This made you gasp again, and he could feel how tight you would be, but he was figuring out you needed a little bit of pain. Once more, he nibbled down, and at the same time he crooked his fingers up hard against your sweet spot and you fell apart. You saw white, you had never felt anything to that extent before. You had slammed your hand over your mouth, but he could still hear you nearly scream out a moan and he smiled cockily; your pussy walls clenched hard around his fingers and cum spurted out of your cunt. He held your hips down, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm. It seemed like it lasted forever and when you finally came down, you were panting hard. He kneeled straighter, pulling his fingers out of you, and noted that you had draped your arm over your eyes, and he couldn't tell if there were tears or sweat flowing down your cheeks. As he stood, Felix licked his fingers clean, and he kneeled over you some and pried your arm from your face. You looked dazed, and he still couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

"You did so good, love." He stroked the hairs back that were stuck to your forehead.

"How the actual fuck did you do that?" You gaped and he guffawed.

"It seems you like it to hurt a bit?"

"Hurt? It didn’t?" You seemed genuinely confused. Were you really that insensitive? With how tight your cunt was around his fingers he thought for sure it would have stung a bit. Most of the time getting bit somewhere that tender would hurt some even if it felt good.

"Interesting…" He thought for a second then looked back down at you.

"Do you wanna keep going?" Felix brushed a drop of the moisture from your cheek and you glanced at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He huffed at that.

"You look like you just ran a marathon."

"Felix, if you can make me come, I'm going to let you do it as many times as possible." You deadpanned and his shocked expression softened, and he hummed. He bent over and kissed your forehead gently. His hand grabbed yours and he brought your knuckles to his lips so he could press another kiss there.

"(Y/N), I just want you to know, that I really like you, and I want to just hold you and love you all night." He admitted and your heart began to thud.

"But I think what you need is to be fucked senseless." His voice deepened even further, and his gaze sharpened. Your heart raced even more, and it seemed he was waiting for permission.

"Oh, god, please." You said quickly and he chuckled.

"Scoot up." He kissed your hand once more then let go and he got off the bed, letting you do as he requested. He went and turned your lamp on and shut the big overhead light off. He came over as you pulled your nightstand drawer open to make sure you did have condoms and that they weren't expired.

"What's this?" He had stopped next to you as you grabbed the box and his hand reached in a grabbed something else.

"Oh, uh-" Before you could answer he opened the box. He knew what it was before he asked. Inside there was a series of sex toys and it seemed none of them could do the trick. Bullet vibrator, one looked like a rose with suction, there was a rabbit vibrator, but the one that shocked him the most was the butt plug. It vibrated too and the plastic still hadn't been taken off of the box.

"Woah." He teased, pulling it out and you groaned.

"Haven't tried it?"

"I…Nothing else worked so I figured it was worth a try but I got nervous…"

"Hmm." He was thinking something, and you weren't sure you liked the look on his face.

"Another time." He shook his head and dropped it back in the box and put it in the drawer again and took the condom box from you.

"Hm." He hummed again and you shot him a look.

"What?"

"Have you tried anything with like ribbing or whatever?"

"Yes…didn't do jack. Even did the ones with like warming lube and stuff."

"…I have an idea but only if you're okay with it?"

"What?"

"I know it’s good to be double sure, but you're on the pill, yeah?"

"Yes."

"It seems you have trouble feeling stuff there, you would probably feel more without this." He rattled the box. He had a point, the only reason you used both was for security.

"We can get the morning after thing if you want-"

"That's fine." He seemed to know what he was doing, and you weren't overly worried about it.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Felix." You assured and he nodded, dropping the box back into the drawer, "They're the wrong size anyway." He muttered that to himself, but you caught it. Closing the drawer, he crawled back onto the bed and kneeled at your feet, then cast you a look. You nodded and he pulled your knees apart and for some reason it was still embarrassing even though his tongue had literally been inside you. You were neither a virgin nor a prude, but for some reason, since it was Felix, it felt different.

"Relax, love." He smiled, pressing his lips to yours again and his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whined when he pulled back and he chuckled, then maneuvered and removed his underwear and threw them somewhere.

"Fuck." You whined and you wanted him in your mouth.

"This is about you, love, not me." He pinched your nose, able to tell what you were thinking from the expression on your face.

"Fine." You pouted and his fingers went back to your cunt and gathered the wetness there and you watched as he stroked himself to get ready. What the fuck was he fed that despite his small size his cock was that big? Whatever it was also probably made his voice as deep as it was as well.

"Ready? I'm going to be rough with you." He warned, his sharp gaze rehardened, the softness still there underneath.

"Please." You let him just grab you, he spread your legs open wide, a slight burn in your hamstrings. There was very little time between the head of his cock meeting your cunt and him burying all the way to the hilt. It took your breath away and he grunted at how tight your hot core felt around him. He had honestly never had sex without a condom before either. After being inside your wet heat with no barrier, he didn't think he could ever do anything but, especially since he planned on being with you longer than he consciously realized. You were shivering at the sensation, his hot flesh searing through you, spreading you open so much so instantly. It stung some but it felt better than any other time and you weren't sure if it was because he was fucking you raw or that he was that big. You didn't even want to know how much bigger Chan supposedly was. He contemplated letting you get used to him, but Felix was losing control fast, and it seemed like you liked it rough. His hands on your thighs spreading them open gripped the flesh, easily swinging your legs up so he folded you in half, your knees at your ears.

"Hold on, love." Using his dancing skills, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, and your next orgasm hit you. If you whited out before, you practically blacked out that time. It was like water rushed over your head, your rapid pulse thudding in your ears, your blood audibly racing. He grunted and you could barely hear it through the ringing in your ears and he dug his fingers hard into the flesh of your thighs to hold back his own orgasm. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, and you were practically gushing around him. He hoped that he had pulled some kind of seal off of you, and that he could get you to fall apart over and over and over. He wanted to be the one that could say he fucked you stupid and that no one could ever finish you simply because they weren't him. His ego shot through the roof, and he wanted to ruin you. When he first thought of going through with this, the plan was to show you how much he loved you, what you meant to him. But he had no idea what you liked and what would finally get you off. If you needed rough, he would do it. Looping his thoughts to keep distracted from the vice of your cunt, he finally felt you relax, and you nearly went boneless, your legs in his grip losing all strength. You were heaving for air again, not sure which way was up or down, how old you were, or even your own name. All you could think of was Felix.

"No!" You yiped as he pulled out, but he rolled you over onto your stomach, hauled your hips up, your face buried in the pillow and he buried his cock back into your needy pussy, making you white knuckled the sheets. He began a truly relentless pace, and it was the best thing anyone had ever done to you.

"You like my cock, love?"

"Fuck, yes!" You managed to get out, each thrust made you silently scream, forming words became nearly impossible. Maybe the fact that he got you to orgasm allowed you to be more sensitive; then maybe because you had tried for so hard for so long with no success, your body could finally let go. Felix had the key to not only your heart, it seemed, but your cunt as well.

Leaning forward, he gripped the frame of your bed for leverage and kept his thrusts just as hard but extremely shallow. The fat head of his cock beat against your back walls so hard that you were sure they would forever be molded to only him. You felt another climax rising and your own hands scrambled to grip the wooden rods of your bed frame as well.

"F-Felix!" You managed to get out and you watched one of his hands leave the frame above you, and he smacked your right ass cheek and upper thigh hard, and you fell over the edge again. This time, he couldn't hold back either, and he fucked as deep into you as he could and filled your womb with his cum. That sensation made your climax flare to max again even though it had begun to dissipate, and your fluttering canal helped him ride out his own orgasm. You thanked the Lord birth control existed because you never wanted him to cum anywhere but inside after that. As you both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and the adrenaline left you and now you were sore. Your clit, your pussy, where he had smacked you, everything. You didn't think you would be able to walk tomorrow. When he had fully withdrew, your hips slumped down and you flopped flat onto the bed, not able to move.

"Hold on, love." He leaned over you and kissed your hot cheek, covered in tears from the intensity of what he just reeked on you. You felt him wipe your used cunt off with a towel and you whined when he moved you to pull the blanket out from under you. He made a note to remove the comforter before fucking you on the bed again, because he sure was planning on doing it again.

"You're fine, pretty girl." He chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He shut the lamp off and the room was cast in shadow before your eyes got used to the dull light of the streetlights behind the curtain. Getting settled, he saw you had laid on your side already, the only way you could fall asleep. Smiling he curled around you, wiggling his arm under your head and wrapped his other around your middle. He rested his hand on your tummy, holding you close. He had to be careful, your cute little butt pressed against his now-covered groin was enough on its own to get him riled back up. The arm under your head bent so his hand could rest on your forehead, and he kissed the back of your head.

"Goodnight, love." Felix hugged you as close as possible, loving being your big spoon.

"I won’t be able to walk tomorrow." You mumbled and buried his nose in your hair and smiled smugly.

"If you can I won’t have done my job right."

"Thank you, 'Lix."

"Of course, sweet." Another kiss to your head.

"Go to sleep. I'll take care of you tomorrow. And every day after that you'll have me." His deep but quiet voice rumbled next to your ear, and you linked your fingers with his on the hand on your stomach.

"I'll have you always, Felix."

"Good, because you're stuck with me now."

-> Part 2 <-

Masterlist

[emiko-matsui]

Okay, I just need to get something out of the way when it comes to the Kipperlilly conversation nobody's brought up yet, which I think is insane. Almost all of The Bad Kids would be more powerful if they didn't have their tragedy porn tragic backstories.

First of all, this doesn't apply to Fig and Gorgug because if Fig wasn't Gorthalax's child she would be a lot like Kipperlilly and not the ruler of hell. I wouldn't say Gorgug has a tragic backstory, he's got a pretty normal growing up experience with ups and downs.

Let's start with her #1 nemesis, Riz Gukgak. She's so jealous that his dad was murdered and that gives him an advantage in the adventuring life. To be crude, no, it doesn't. What would give Riz an advantage in the adventuring life would be living with someone who has a direct contact to all the government's inner workings and conspiracies. Now that would be an advantage. That gives you connections and clues that no one else can get. This is not what happened. What happened was eating cereal with water for breakfast, what happened was not getting an opportunity at college, what happened was a 9 year old who stopped sleeping, what happened was not your secret agent dad giving you an advantage in the school conspiracy because he's dead. Otherwise he fucking would've.

And now Kipperlilly's new #1 nemesis, Kristen Applebees. She was ostracised from her religion for her sexuality, she achieved sainthood, and raised a dead god back to life. None of this would've happened if she hadn't been raised in The Harvestmen. No, it wouldn't, but what would have happened if Kristen had been straight? Disgusting thought, yes, I know, but let's talk about it. A Kristen who never left Helio behind would have so many more fucking advantages than the one with Cassandra has. If she had followed her birthright she would be the only chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods. Sol is the biggest god in Spyre and Helio is his son. Helio does not have a chosen one anymore because Kristen left. It's not a title that's just given out, it could only have been Kristen. You know what's an advantage? Being the chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods, being a god's spoken favourite, and deified by all of that god's followers. Now that would be an unfair advantage. You know what's not an advantage? Being homeless at 14 and being at the mercy of your ex-girlfriend's uncle for housing, dying and having absolutely no one there for you so you're only option to survive is to trust your own abilities enough to raise yourself from the dead, and failing school because of biased teachers.

And what of Adaine Abernant? The Elven Oracle? Her tragedy porn tragic backstory is surviving an abusive home. Now I just have to imagine that Adaine would have it a lot easier than most students, an incredible amount of unfair advantages, if her old money parents paid for every wizard whim she wanted, kept her diplomatic immunity so she could do literally anything she wanted without consequences, and gave her a direct contact into the heart of the Fallinell government. Now that is what I would call an insane amount of unfair advantage. I would be furious at this rich kid who's never had to work for anything myself. This is not even close to the case. She's barely passing classes because she can't afford the material you're required, she goes to the guidance counsellor for panic attacks, and she's being hunted by her home government. I'd say that's about every single thing in her life working against her having it easy.

Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He's complicated since he is very privileged already. He gets 5000 gold a month just for existing. He's the captain of the Owlbears because he killed the previous one. He lives alone in a mansion. Yeah, that's pretty privileged. His parents are also so severely fucked up that if they hadn't been filthy rich they would've been absolutely horrible for him. If he had parents who unconditionally supported him and stayed with him through everything, then we could talk about perhaps the most powerful person in Elmville. In Solace possibly. The most feared pirate in history who single-handedly dismantled a monarchy and fights against armies on his own is at your beck and call, does whatever you ask him to, and loves you more than anything. The greatest swordswoman in the world, that bested the most feared pirate in the world, the daughter of one of the most influential elven families and immortal will do anything you ask her, loves you to bits, and would cheat any rules for you. To have that would just be insane. You can argue that Fabian already has unfair advantages because of his social status and inheritance. This is true, but this is also true within his own adventuring party. Now his parents aren't helping him with anything and are determined that he reach his legendary status on his own. Otherwise talk about a fucking advantage.

All this to say is that if Kipperlilly got all of The Bad Kids tragedy porn like she wanted she wouldn't have been better, but she would've made them better. There is an adventuring party out there in the multiverse that has a secret agent at their disposal, the only chosen one of a Sol religion, Bill Seacaster and Hallariel Lomenelda unprompted in their corner, and a seer with unending resources and diplomatic immunity. These would've been people you start a platform about adventuring not being fair for everyone because of. The people you went against was a homeless kid, a kid with an anxiety disorder, a trust fund kid, and someone with PTSD.

I've seen your posts about Kipperlilly being wrong for her validation, but right in the fact that The Bad Kids have been given larger plots and mysteries because of their families and circumstances and I don’t want to fucking see another one. When you make that I want you to think about the adventuring party they would've been without their backstories. The insanely powerful and privileged adventuring party that almost happened. Their life got made worse, not easier because their life could have been so fucking easy. Kipperlilly can take all the tragedy porn she wants and then maybe realise that that's not what makes the adventurer. That the reason she's mad at The Bad Kids is the only reason she can even tangentially compete with them.

[morganbritton132]

I love the newer teachers not knowing who Eddie is and visiting Steve at his house and wondering how they can afford such a nice house. I can imagine that they live in a house way above a teachers salary, much less a teacher with presumably, a lot of medical bills. They see gold records hanging on the walls and all of Eddie’s awards on a bookshelf and they are trying to connect the dots to who Eddie is.

David’s first impression of Steve is, admittedly, not great.

He was hired as a long-term substitute halfway through the school year and technically, Mr. Harrington was the only teacher on their floor not to introduce himself to him. They’re supposed to cover the eighth grade lunch period together, but Steve hasn’t shown up once since David was started three days ago.

Instead, the principal covered for him.

Cindy McCullen, the gossipy history teacher across the hall from him, says that it’s because of favoritism. She says that Principal Moreno always lets her favorites run rampant around the school and lets them do whatever they want, especially if they’re tenured. Steve Harrington is the most egregious example of blatant favoritism.

David starts to form an opinion about Mr. Harrington in his mind that only gets worse with every story he hears from Cindy. So, it’s a bit of a shock when Steve shows up for lunch duty the next day with a whole ass service dog.

He feels like an asshole.

Especially because Steve is so apologetic about missing the last three days and leaving David to ‘the wolves’ during his first week, “Is this your first teaching job? I’ve heard from the kids that you’re doing great!”  

He makes a conscious effort after that to get to know Steve and to stop letting other people form his opinions for him. Though, admittedly. He kinda fucks that up too.

The first time David meets Eddie, he thinks that he’s Steve’s brother.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t talk about his life outside of work. It’s just that he doesn’t go into a lot a detail. David knows that he’s married to a man, that he’s from Indiana originally, and he might have a kid. Maybe? A girl name Erica that tells him what a brony is and how they ruin everything.

Hell, David’s not even entirely sure he knows what Ozzy is in service of. Steve just said that he bumped his head one too many times and now he has a dog so his husband stops worrying so much.

The only surefire thing that David knows is that Steve has a brother that’s a bit of a dork. He has great hair and is really smart, but lacks tact. Steve loves him. You can tell by the way that he talks about the guy.

So one day, David is in the teacher’s lounge heating up a cup of Easy Mac while Steve is sitting with his head down at one of the tables. He’s about to suggest that Steve go home and sleep off whatever cold he has when a guy with long hair and a leather jacket sticks his head in the room and declares, “You look like shit.”

Steve doesn’t even lift his head when he flips him off which is – whoa, not something that David would expect from Mr. Harrington. He makes himself busy with stirring his mac and cheese while the two bicker with each other which is, admittedly, childish.

Leather Jacket’s main argument for why Steve has to listen to him and go home is because he’s older. Steve croaks out that that is bullshit and Leather Jacket threatens to call their Uncle Wayne if Steve doesn’t listen. He eventually agrees.

Before they leave, Leather Jacket sticks his hand out to David and introduces himself as the cooler Mr. Harrington (that gets a laugh out of Steve).

So, color him shocked when Steve invites their event committee over to his house.

David hasn’t even fully gotten over how nice of a neighborhood Steve lives in on a teacher and retiree’s salary when Leather Jacket gets introduced as Eddie, the husband Steve has mentioned. Then he just casually mentions a red carpet like, what?

And the craziest part is that he’s asked about his husband before!

Steve mentioned once that his husband was out of town and when David asked what he did for work, Steve said that he was retired. He said that his husband can play guitar and that one of their friends (James Hetfield) needed a last minute guitarist for some kind of fair (Coachella) so Eddie went to help out.

He definitely worded it like playing guitar was just a hobby that his husband has, not like. Not like platinum records lining the hallway to their bathroom or the picture of Steve and Eddie in Vegas with KISS stuck to the fridge. He swears the note on the dry erase board by the garage entrance signed ‘Dave’ is in Dave Grohl’s handwriting.

There’s an Grammy on the bookshelf by the fireplace.

Who the hell is Steve Harrington?

Better question: Who the hell is Eddie Munson?

Kathy laughs the entire drive to her house and she is still laughing when he drops her off. The only thing she says that could even be considered an answer is, “I think he’s on Tiktok. Start there.” 

[k4g3hika]

WHO THE HELL?! ━ imagine!

eddie munson x fem! reader

summary: when eddie munson doesn't find the need to tell the dungeons and dragons club members about his new girlfriend. so imagine dustin's surprise when he visits eddie's trailer and sees it looking impeccably clean.

wc: 956

hi guys! forgot to mention i kind of wrote a part 2 to this so: “love, y/n:)”

“Okay, Eddie! I hear you! So it’s just in your living room? On the table beside the sofa? Okay!” Dustin stops his bike beside the Munson trailer, dropping it down onto the dirt as he rushes to the door. “Wait- how the hell am I supposed to get inside?!”

“Did I not give you my keys?”

“No!”

“Damn!”

“Wait! I see someone inside! I’m just gonna knock on the door till they answer. Talk to you later, over and out!” Amidst Eddie’s protests, Dustin turns off the walkie-talkie and strides over to the door. He secretly hopes to himself that it’s not Eddie’s uncle. But shit, who else is going to be in the Munson residence if it wasn’t Eddie or his scary-looking uncle?

He breathes in and out, raising his fist to knock on the door. However, right after his fists land on the door, it falls open as if it wasn’t locked in the first place. 

‘Red flag. Red flag.’ Dustin knew better than to go into a complete stranger’s house. But, this was Eddie’s trailer. The worst thing that can happen is that he can stumble on some disgusting shit, or God bless him, his uncle holding a knife to his chest ready to pop off and kill him. ‘God, please guide me.’

As he walked inside, it seemed empty. There was absolutely no sign of life, but something did scare the living shit out of Dustin. 

The Munson trailer was clean. Clean as fuck. 

Dustin only knew Eddie from the beginning of the school year. But, regardless of the short time, Dustin knew that Eddie hardly took care of himself and would rather focus on anything else other than cleanliness. Shit, he remembers that one time he went inside Eddie’s room and it was laundry day. The stains on that mattress were traumatizing. 

After going through a state of shock, Dustin remembered the reason why he was even in Eddie’s trailer. He began his search for the paper his leader needed, but it was far more difficult to find compared to the simplicity Eddie emphasized. Dustin cursed him under his breath, opening up every drawer on every table by the one sofa in the entire living room. 

However, Dustin was so focused on his search, that he completely went deaf to the sounds of movement behind him. 

“Hey! Who the fuck are you?!” Dustin almost fell back at the sheer terror he just felt surge through his heart. His breaths began to get erratic. Seeing a really, really pretty woman standing with only a shirt and…shorts? Or were they panties? He didn’t know. But it was fucking scary. Or hot? He didn’t know. “Hello?!? You better say who you are before I call the cops!”

“Wait! Wait! Eddie sent me here! He sent me to get something for the campaign! My name is Dustin! Dustin Henderson!” Dustin raised his hands up in defence, not seeing the woman’s shoulders deflate in relief. She chuckles, prompting Dustin to lower his hands. “W-Wha-”

“God, I’m sorry. Did I forget to lock the door again? Shit. I’m gonna get myself killed one day. Anyway, the paper he forgot is actually on the kitchen counter. I put it there figuring out he was gonna come back.” She walks past him. 

‘Oh jeeze.’ Dustin tries not to look at them, only looking forward to where the paper was. 

“Here you go, sorry about earlier. I just got scared is all. Did he drive you here?”

“No…I biked here.” He blinks twice at you, becoming nervous at your gaze staring him down. 

“Oh my god! Really? Do you want some water? What about a cookie? Oh wait! I baked some cookies earlier, I was really bored. Can you bring some to the DnD club, please? Eds loves them…” As you ramble on about cookies and water, Dustin can’t help but gaze at your beautiful features. Your voice was also soothing, and shit, you look like you give the best hugs. “Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Y/N, Eddie’s girlfriend. Nice to finally meet you, Dustin!”

‘Now I know why Eddie hides you.’

–

“Fuck! Look who finally decides to turn up! Henderson, what took you so long?” Eddie walks up to Dustin, eyebrows furrowing in search of the paper he asked him to get. “Did you get the paper-”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Excuse me?”

“I should be saying ‘excuse me’! I get sent, for a paper, and y’know what I find? Hm?” Dustin looks around the room past Eddie, trying to show them validation for his anger. “The most beautiful and shit, best baker, I have ever met in my life!” After his last statement, Dustin shoves the container of cookies at his (now ex) idol’s chest. 

Eddie, though initially confused at Dustin’s anger, finally understands why when he sees your signature chocolate chip cookies. You always add M&Ms, saying that they ‘add a pop of colour’ to them. Not that he minded. He loved it. 

“I don’t get why you’re angry-”

“Bitch?! You have to show them off! Sell these cookies for God’s sakes! Bring her to meetings! Shit! Do I have to teach you how to be a good boyfriend?!?” Dustin drops his bag, groaning at Eddie’s ‘stupidity’. “Let’s get on with the game!”

Eddie looks at Dustin, then at the container in his hands. 

It wasn’t like he was hiding you. Eddie smiles to himself, propping open the lid and eating one cookie. 

Eddie just thinks that you’re his little secret. Only he gets to eat your cookies. Dustin just happened to stumble upon them. Never again though.

“Hey, Eddie, can we try some of those cookies-”

“Fuck off Gareth.”

[sparkle-fiend]

Eddie is six years old, the first time he hears the voice. 

It wakes him with a jolt – sends him tearing through the house, searching under every bed and behind every door for the boy he hears calling his name.

Mama finally stops him. “Sweetheart, what did you lose this time?” (Eddie is always losing things.) She looks impatient, standing with a laundry basket balanced on one cocked hip, curly hair spilling out of the messy bun on top of her head.

“I heard somebody saying my name! I gotta find him, I think he’s hiding.”

Mama’s whole attitude changes, all at once. She sets the laundry aside and drops to her knees in front of him, squeezing his little hands between her own. “Oh baby. That voice means you’ve got a soulmate!”

She smiles bright as the suncatcher hanging in the window, and presses sloppy kisses all over his face until he screams with laughter, squirming to get away. 

“My lucky, special boy!”

Eddie’s never been lucky before. It’s exciting.

———

In school, they learn all about soulmates. About how rare they are. Uncle Wayne is the only other person Eddie knows that has one. 

When he found out about Uncle Wayne’s soulmate, Eddie was so excited – bubbling full of questions, like a bottle of fizzy pop. But whenever he tried to talk about it, his dad got real mad.

“You keep your mouth shut about soulmates,” he said. “Don’t talk about that shit in front of your uncle.”

It’s hard. Eddie starts staying over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer more and more when Mama gets sick. And Eddie’s never been good at following rules; especially when he’s curious about something.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie finally asks one day. “Where’s your soulmate? How come I’ve never seen her?” You have met her right? is what Eddie’s really asking. He can’t imagine waiting until he’s as old as Uncle Wayne to find his soulmate.

His uncle goes sort of brittle, tensing up like every joint is made of glass. His lips press together behind his beard, and his denim blue eyes go shiny and wet – like he’s trying not to cry.

If Eddie could take the question back, he would. Suck it right back into his mouth, like the smoke from his uncle’s cigarettes. This is why you gotta listen better baby – that’s what his Mama would probably say.

“My Lorretta died a few years ago. Before you were born.”

Eddie never considered that. In all the movies, soulmates die together. The thought of it leaves a queasy feeling squirming through his stomach.

“I still hear her though,” Uncle Wayne says, with a terribly soft look in his eyes. “Still hear her singing our song.”

“Like a memory?” Eddie whispers.

His uncle shakes his head. “Time don’t matter for soulmates – no more than distance. I can hear her still, across the years.”

Like a ghost, his uncle doesn’t say. A ghost that will haunt him forever. None of the dry textbooks in school ever mentioned that part.

It starts to worry Eddie. As he gets older, his soulmate’s voice starts to get clearer. He always hears the same thing – a desperate, grown-up voice screaming at him to “Run Eddie! RUN!!!” 

It must be from the future. But his soulmate sounds so scared. What could possibly happen, to make his soulmate sound like that?

Eddie starts to listen to music more. Loud, heavy stuff to drown out the frightened voice. 

Late at night, he curls up under the covers and softly sings his Mama’s favorite song – hoping that somewhere, somewhen, his soulmate will hear him.

That it might help, the way it helps Eddie when Mama sings him to sleep.

———

Eddie is twelve years old, the first time he really listens to the voice.

Mama's been dead two years, and his dad keeps pulling riskier and riskier jobs. Tonight, he's decided to try and break into the pawn shop on Fifth street. 

Eddie is the lookout, stationed on the opposite corner with a pistol weighing heavy in the pocket of his coat (just in case, Ed). 

He doesn't want to be here. He tried to argue with his dad. Said, "I've got a test tomorrow. I've got homework and..." and I hate this life. (He doesn't say that part.) I don't want to steal cars or break into buildings or mug people. I don't want to be like you.

His dad just gripped him by the arm hard enough to bruise, and said, "You like to eat, dont'cha? Well, lookouts get to eat. Lazy little shits don't." 

So Eddie is standing on a street corner in the middle of the night, watching his dad furtively attempt to pick the lock on the front door of the pawn shop, when a cop car slows down at the end of the street.

Fear floods his bloodstream so fast it leaves him dizzy. The cop has clearly noticed something. Eddie can see the shadowed figure inside the car reach for his radio. 

Eddie has two choices.

He could pull the pistol out of his pocket and fire a few shots down the street, forcing the cop to take cover long enough for his dad to get away (which is what his dad would expect him to do). Or he could... 

"Run!"

The sudden loud voice, echoing between his ears and behind his eyes and inside his heart, startles him into flinching. 

"Run Eddie, RUN!!!" His body obeys before his brain has a chance to process the words. He's halfway down the street when the siren shrieks to life. 

Later, as he sits in the backseat of the social worker's car on the way to his Uncle Wayne, he can't quite believe he did it. He bailed on his dad - left him to get arrested and go to prison. This is Frank Munson's third strike; he'll go away for life this time. 

I'm such a coward, Eddie thinks numbly. Such a chicken piece of shit. He digs his ragged nails into the soft flesh of his palms, squeezing hard enough to draw blood. 

As if he'd spoken aloud, a soft voice responds, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

His soulmate sounds so fierce, so certain. Eddie blinks hard against the hot burn of tears. The smart thing to do.

———

Eddie holds onto those words, like magic talismans. They provide comfort, not just in the immediate days after his dad's arrest, but other times too. Every time he runs away from a bully or a cop or a deal gone bad, Eddie thinks to himself - I'm not a coward. I'm just smart.

It works... until the night he stumbles out of his uncle's trailer, leaving Chrissy Cunningham's broken body on the living room floor. He's so terrified he doesn't have time to think, not until after he's ditched his van and taken shelter in Rick's boathouse. As he leans against the splintered wall and catches his breath, it hits him.

I left her there. What if she was still alive? (She wasn't. She couldn't have been. Not after... not after that.) He grabs fistfuls of hair and tugs until his scalp aches. Wracks his brain trying to figure out what happened, what he could have done to stop it.

He's never felt so ashamed before, not even when his dad was cursing and screaming and calling him a coward through the thick glass of the visitation window. 

His soulmate's words whisper in his ears, "...sometimes it's just the smart thing to do," and Eddie pounds on his skull with his fists to drown the voice out. "Not this time," he snarls. I should have done something. I should have tried to save her. 

He doesn’t feel smart this time. He feels like a cowardly piece of shit.

His soulmate’s voice falls silent. 

Through all the craziness to follow – finding out that monsters are real, running for his life from an angry mob, fighting alongside Steve Harrington in an evil Upside Down version of Hawkins – Eddie doesn’t hear his soulmate again.

Not until he’s staring up at Dustin Henderson, realizing that he can’t run away again. As he hesitates at the bottom of the rope, Dustin calls out nervously, “Eddie, what are you doing?”  

“I’m buying more time,” he says. He ignores Dustin’s screams as he cuts the rope and slides the mattress out of the way – making sure the kid can’t follow him. 

And then he hears his soulmate say, “Wait, wait a second. Eddie?! Is that you?” 

Eddie is twenty years old, the first time he recognizes his soulmates voice.

He pauses at the door of the trailer and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Hey Stevie.”

“Holy shit, it’s you,” Steve whispers in awe.

It’s the first time they’ve been able to speak to each other like this, responding in real-time. Eddie wishes it could have happened in different circumstances.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” 

“Eddie? What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed.

Eddie doesn’t answer. He slams his way out of the barricaded trailer and grabs one of the discarded bikes, hoping to lead the swarm of bats away as far as possible. 

He makes it halfway across the trailer park before one of the bats knocks him off the bike. He grunts and rolls, gaining his feet quickly. Chest heaving, charged with adrenalin – Eddie hesitates. He could keep running… or he could stand his ground and fight. 

Maybe Steve can hear the hitch in his breath in that moment, because the other boy seems to have worked out what’s going on, even from miles away. Steve screams, “No!!! Run Eddie, RUN!!!!”

It’s like the night his dad got arrested. Eddie doesn’t even have time to think - his body reacts to that voice and he runs, worn Reeboks slapping the pavement.

(In another world, Eddie would have turned to face the swarm. In another world, Eddie would have died.)

He’s fast. He’s always been fast. He buys himself a few precious moments, before the bats drag him to the ground. They start to rip through his clothes, through his flesh, and he tries to hold back his screams – he doesn’t want Steve to hear this…

Those extra seconds save his life. It’s bad - but not as bad as it could have been. The bats start to drop from the sky, writhing and shrieking; they’re dying, although Eddie has no idea why. Hopefully, it means Steve and the girls were successful. 

He struggles to sit up just as Dustin reaches him, crying and frantic. “Eddie!! Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood…” the kid moans. 

“Yeah, yep. I’m good,” Eddie pants through gritted teeth. “Help me up okay?”

Dustin insists on binding the worst of his wounds first, using strips of fabric torn from the ghillie suit. The pain makes Eddie want to scream all over again, but he allows it. It is an awful lot of blood.

They lean against each other and limp back to the trailer, where Dustin knots t-shirts and jeans and flannel shirts into the remnants of their rope until it’s long enough to reach the other side again. 

Eddie manages to haul himself up the rope and through the gate – and that’s where his strength runs out. The pain of landing on the thin mattress knocks him right out.

———

When Eddie wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed. 

Holy shit I’m alive, he thinks. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it.

He moves gingerly, testing each limb, turning his head against the stinging pull of a bandage along the edge of his jaw.

The room isn’t empty; Eddie apparently has a roommate. He clears his throat and the person in the other bed stirs, turning to look at him. 

It’s Steve.

His soulmate.

Eddie feels a funny little swoop of exhilaration in his stomach. “Hey Stevie.”

Steve’s face goes soft at first, like he’s experiencing the same fizzy warmth that Eddie is feeling. Then he blinks, and his brows draw down into a scowl. “What the hell was that, huh? What happened to ‘I’m no hero’?”

Oops. 

Eddie tries to make light of the situation. “Maybe I wanted to try it out,” he says flippantly. “Not too sure it suits me though. Think I might stick to being a coward from now on – it’s a lot less painful.” 

Steve doesn’t smile. He fixes Eddie with a serious look, hazel eyes blazing in the sallow light of the hospital room. “You listen to me Eddie Munson. You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. Those words – once a gift from the future, now an echo of the past. He never should have ignored them. “Maybe you’re right.”

Steve’s mouth is already open to continue the argument. “I…” he stops, clearly caught off-guard, face scrunched in adorable confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I am right.”

Steve runs a faintly trembling hand through his hair. The angry expression melts into something gentler, almost unbearably soft. “I’m glad you listened to me in the end, at least.”

Eddie shifts his weight, pressing his cheek into the scratchy hospital pillow so he can keep his eyes on Steve. 

He’s so beautiful. Even bloody and bruised, with dirt still smudged along his hairline and dark circles under his eyes – he’s the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. And Eddie almost gave this up – if he’d died in the Upside Down, he would have left Steve alone, with only the echo of Eddie’s voice left to haunt him.

“Yeah,” Eddie says hoarsely, “me too.”

He still feels guilty over Chrissy’s death - he probably always will. But he’s coming to realize that proving himself a hero wouldn’t have been worth the pain his death would have caused.

Eddie’s got a second chance… and he plans to make the most of it.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 54

Part 1 Part 53

Months pass, slow and stretched out, like the bubblegum El’s taken to chewing. Sometimes, she’ll wrap it around her pointer finger and pull it, teeth clamped around the other side until it’s elongated – all air, stretched past recognition until it snaps.

That’s how the summer passes, foisted from adult to adult to adult. If Mom’s busy, then it’s Jonathan. If Jonathan’s busy, then it’s Uncle Wayne. If Uncle Wayne is busy, then it’s hopper. Never any of the parents who don’t know. It’s a lot of time being cooped up inside, going crazy.

For the first time, school being back in session is a relief. He’ll take the monotony of schoolwork and the stress of being zombie boy over staring at his ceiling for a second more. The party grumbles about their precious free time being sucked away, and Will echoes along, complaining about the homework and tests and boring hours, but his heart’s not in it.

When he’s home, it’s like the walls are closing in. With that in mind, he slips out his window, unnoticed. The party had talked about going to the arcade. Will hadn’t been invited. They all knew he wouldn’t be able to go; Tuesday’s were the day when no one was free. Jonathan had photography club after school, and everyone else worked. He’d be stuck at Melvald’s sitting quietly in the corner as his Mom worked.

But not today. Today, he gets on his bike and starts riding. He makes it to Mirkwood before things go wrong. He hears it: that static, horrific clicking. He falls off his bike, and it’s like he’s back in last November, scraped knees and all. He gets up and runs, bike abandoned at the side of the road.

His breathing is ragged by the time he’s back in front of his house. He whirls around, pulse in his throat, and sees nothing at all. There’s no sound, no Demogorgon stalking toward him, petal mouth opening. And it’s the middle of the day. There’s nothing at all. Will swallows, throat clicking with how dry it suddenly is.

He climbs back in through the window, disheveled and sweaty, hands shaking. He changes his dirty pants, dunks his face and hands in the abandoned water glass at his bedside. Good as new. Will closes the blinds, and sits down on his bed.

They’re probably there already, crowded around Pac Man or Dig Dug, the shape of Will’s absence a hole they always seem to leave open for him. He clenches his fingers around his knees, staring at his closed window.

What would Steve do?

Steve wouldn’t hesitate; he would’ve already been at the arcade, laughing at the center of everything like always. He wouldn’t be falling off his bike and seeing things that weren’t there.

With that thought, Will stands, walks purposefully out his bedroom door. Mom’s packing bologna sandwiches into her reusable lunch box, one for her and one from Will. He freezes at the entryway to the kitchen and watches her work.

“Are you ready to go, sweetie?” she asks, pouring coffee into her dinky little thermos, not turning around.

Will takes a deep breath. “I want to go to the arcade with my friends.” He tries to say it confidently, but it comes out wobbling all over the place.

Mom pauses, still holding the coffee pot in one hand, tilted at an angle that would have it pouring all over the countertop if it wasn’t almost empty. She stays like that for an endless moment before putting the coffee pot on the counter with a quiet click. Will wonders if it’ll burn.

She turns around, biting her lip. “Sweetie, Hop and Wayne are both at work, and you know Jonathan is–”

“Why can’t I go by myself?” he interrupts, trying not to think of how much of a disaster that’d been a few minutes ago.

Mom’s shoulders slump. She crosses her arms, hunching into herself, mouth scrunched up just like that time she’d tried a lemonhead for the first time at Jonathan’s wheedling. She’d spit it into her hand within seconds, staring down at the thing with horror.

That’s how she’s looking at Will now. Like she’s spit him out and couldn’t imagine having ever had him at all. But then it passes, and it’s just his Mom, looking worried.

“Do you think Steve and Eddie could take you?” she asks.

It’s a compromise he’s happy to grab with both hands. “I’ll call them.”

He picks up the phone, dialing the number by rote. He’s dialed it enough that he could do it blindfolded.

“Munson residence.” Steve’s voice sounds gruff, like he’s been sleeping. Or crying. Or like whatever had happened in the Upside-Down to make his voice gravely and rough in the hospital all those months ago. “Hello?”

“Will you take me to the arcade?” Will asks.

There’s a long enough pause that Will starts blushing, especially when he hears his Mom huff about phone etiquette behind him. But then Steve says, “sure, want me to come get you?”

Will glances at the clock hanging in the living room, squinting to make out the numbers. “Can you be here in ten minutes? Mom has to go to work.”

“Sure kid,” Steve says, pausing long enough that Will almost hangs up, before saying quietly. “She still not letting you stay home alone?”

“No,” Will says, just as quietly, pointedly not looking over to where his Mom is hovering by his shoulder.

Steve sighs, tinny over the distance between their houses. “Okay, see you soon kid.”

“Bye,” Will says, but Steve’s already hung up.

He puts the phone into the cradle, feeling excitement and dread burble up within him in equal measures.

“Are they coming?” Mom asks.

Will nods, walking into the entryway to slip on his shoes. “Steve is. I’m not sure about Eddie.”

His Mom hums. “What a lovely boy.” She digs around in her purse, depositing a handful of quarters into his waiting palm. “Do you need anything else, sweetie?”

Will shakes his head, tucking the loose quarters deep into his pocket. He waits by the door, like a dog waiting for his owner to come home, metaphorical tail wagging while his Mom putters around trying to find her work smock.

Will doesn’t recognize the sound of the car that pulls up; its engine quiet enough that he mostly hears it by the sound of the tires rolling over the loose debris that always covers their driveway. He does recognize the knock a few seconds later. Three light knocks, barely loud enough to reach Will where he’s standing by the door. Like Steve knows exactly where he’s waiting. Because he does.

Will wrenches the door open, already smiling. Steve’s standing there in his customary blue jeans, and a blue polo, hair perfectly coiffed, jean jacket thrown over the whole thing. “Hi,” Will says.

“Baby Byers,” Steve replies, nodding down at him, before looking behind Will to where his Mom’s now hovering. “Ms. Byers.”

“Oh, honey. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joyce?”

Steve smiles, that crooked one he does where just one side of his mouth turns up. “At least one more time, huh?”

Mom laughs, stepping around Will to pull Steve into a hug. She hands over a few bills that Steve stuffs into his wallet with instructions to get them both something to eat.

Steve’s Bimmer is sitting in the driveway behind their own junker. It’s nice enough that it should contrast, but it’s been rotting in front of the Munson’s trailer without being washed for long enough that he can’t tell the difference. It smells musty when he climbs in. Steve stares at him pointedly until he buckles his seatbelt, and then they’re off.

They leave in a line, Steve backing up with his Mom only seconds behind. Will’s almost surprised when his Mom doesn’t follow Steve’s car the whole way. She turns off, and their cars part ways.

Will grabs the opportunity with both hands. “Can we go get my bike?”

Steve glances over at him with a raised brow, but keeps both hands at ten and two. “Where is it?”

“Mirkwood.”

Steve sighs, but turns around, and notably doesn’t ask. He finds it without prompting, the white of its body stands out in the dirt. He’s just glad no one has picked it up and ridden away. Steve grumbles as he struggles to stuff it into his trunk, before stuffing it into his backseat, muddy tires and all.

They’re back on their way, and Steve still hasn’t asked. That’s what makes Will open his mouth. “I tried to ride it to the arcade,” he says, picking at the small hole in the knee of his pants. “But I heard it.”

He can see Steve’ fingers tighten around the steering wheel from the corner of his eye. “What?”

“It was like before,” Will mumbles. “Like when the Demogorgon got me.”

Steve’s knuckles are white, but his voice comes out even when he asks, “do you think it was there?”

Will thinks back, past the panic and the running and the breathlessness. “No,” he whispers, watching color bleed back into Steve’s hands. “It was probably a squirrel, or my tires on the leaves. I just panicked.”

Steve sighs, lets the R.E.M song live fill up the silences all one its own – Did we miss anything? Did we miss anything? Did we miss anything? Did we miss anything? – He pulls in smoothly into an empty spot at The Palace.

Steve doesn’t turn off the car, so Will makes no move to get out.

Steve sighs again, reaching over to switch off his tape deck. The silence is deafening, but Steve doesn’t let it linger. “You know,” he says, not looking at Will at all. “Uncle Wayne told me it’s called shellshock.” He takes a shuddering breath before letting it out smoothly. “It’s like when something bad happens and sometimes your brain can get like, stuck there? I guess?”

He’s staring out the windshield, like he’s somewhere else. “Are you okay?” Will asks.

It takes a second for him to blink back into life, but when he does, Steve turns his head to smile down at Will. It still looks sad. “It’s hard sometimes, bud,” he says, reaching over to squeeze Will’s shoulder. “But we’re getting through it, aren’t we?”

Will’s not sure why he thought Steve and Eddie would bounce back so much better, had already bounced back, even. But Steve’s shoulders were always so squared, and even in the hospital when he’d been wan and tired, he’d seemed so strong. Unbreakable.

“Yeah,” Will exhales. “We will be.”

They get out of the car in sync, Steve slowing his pace so Will can keep up with his shorter legs. Steve reaches over his head to pull the door open, waiting for Will to walk under his arm and into the sanctuary that is the arcade.

Just like he imagined, all three are crowded around the pac man machine, Lucas maneuvering the joystick with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. Will sneaks up beside them, Steve just behind, and the machine is in sight just in time to watch pac man blip out of sight, eaten by a ghost for the last time.

“It thought you nerds were supposed to be good at this kind of thing,” Steve says, plopping his arm onto Mike’s shoulder to peer over at the screen. “Doesn’t that mean you buttheads are dead?”

They all turn in unison, Lucus’s brow already furrowing before it smoothes out when he sets his eyes on Will.

“Will!” Lucas shouts, as all three tackle him noisily, the steadying hand Steve puts on his hand the only thing keeping him up. He’s surrounded on all sides, safe and warm.

“Wow, thanks for making me an afterthought,” Steve says, rolling his eyes bitchily until Dustin runs at him, tackling him in a hug of his own that has Steve’s eyes widening before his smile softens and he ruffles Dustin’s hair.

“Hey, Steve,” Dustin says, lisping over the T as he smiles goofily up at Steve.

Will watches the interaction, fondness filling him up entirely.

“I thought you couldn’t come!” Mike says, dropping his arms from around Will and taking a step back. The broad grin on his face takes the sting out of it.

“Mom said Steve could take me,” WIll mumbles.

Lucas looks up at Steve, that same starstruck look on his face that they’d all started to have as Will shared more and more about Steve’s heroics on the other side. “Cool,” he whispers.

Steve’s ears turn red and he coughs before immediately diverting attention away from himself. “What’ve you twerps been up to?”

WIll listens happily to his friends complain about the new player on the scoreboard, MADMAX, and how even Dustin couldn’t seem to catch up to him.

It’s been a while since they’ve had a mystery that wasn’t life or death. Will wonders who this Mad Max is and if he’d let them watch him play.

Part 55

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[chrisili]

My apologies

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader

Summary: You and Edmund have to explore the underground together, alone and you punch him in his face. Accidentally.

Warnings: Make out session

Genre: fluff, rom-com

Word count: 2,3k

A.N.: So extremely obsessed with Narnia currently sooo here you go. This is in the time of Prince Caspian just for the plot but I imagine Edmund a little older here.

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 100 LIKES ON MY LAST FF? ALSO I HAVE MY FIRST 3 FOLLOWERS AND THAT IS BEYOND EXCITING. THANK YOU!!!

Masterlist

________________________________________________________

“Cas, wait! Woah,” while you were, almost casing, after your brother you tripped on a rock. You two were currently in the woods walking to your base where all the other humans, animals, dwarfs, centaurs and what not, were stationed. Caspian turns around to look at you almost tripping on a stone, let’s say he didn’t exactly try to be decent.

“Sister, if you keep this up the King is never gonna want you.” He said laughing while holding you to steady yourself. You look at him half blank, half annoyed. “Yes I am sure out of all the possible situations in the world, tripping in the woods would be THE reason for King Edmund to not be interested in me.” You slap his arm as he tries to help you and you resume your path. “Anyways, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You and the High King Peter assigned me and Edmund to go deeper into the base to explore, to see if we find something useful, right? So, naturally, my question is, why the hell would you do that to me?”

Caspian pulls an arm around your shoulder while he walks with you, “why dear sister, here I thought I was doing you a favor? You obviously like the King and he obviously likes you back so why not spend some time with each other, together eh?”

You nod your head and squint your eyebrows sarcastically. “You know, that is a great idea! How about you send me to uncles castle and we can die there, together eh?”

Caspian looks at you suprised. “I don’t understand?” You roll your eyes, “clearly.”

“Brother tell me, have you maybe noticed how I act around the King?” Y/N asked while they were now on the big meadow in front of their base. As narrator, I have to agree with Y/N. With the handsome dark haired King around her, her head gets all blurry and it is hard for her to think. Although she really likes him she starts being more sarcastic than she already is when she sees his big brown eyes. With Caspian not taking your nervousness seriously and High King Peter actually adoring the thought of his little brother and Y/N, there was nothing to be done.

So you and King Edmund were now in the underground, exploring, dying (Just kidding, only you were, out of nervousness). Edmund was holing up his flashlight to look around, while you were holding a regular torch. You guys didn’t actually talk a lot because your brother was right, the King liked you back so naturally he was pretty nervous too.

“King Ed-” congratulations, you started chocking on your own saliva not even having spoken two words! You cough a little so your voice would come back. “I apologize, King Edmund. I was just wondering why your thing is a lot brighter than mine.” Edmund looked at you and chuckles, which warmed your heart and made your cheeks slightly pink, not that it mattered because it was too dark anyways.

“It’s a flashlight. It has batteries in it, it’s actually hard to explain.” He said scratching his neck. You just nod and kick yourself mentally for even bringing it up. As you two walk further you come across a kind of door frame. There was the frame but no door and in the room behind it was heavy blue lighting, shining though the ceiling, which was of course the moon. You both walked in and not even a minute later a heavy metal door was falling in to the frame. Both your heads turn immediately and you run up to the door.

“No, no, no, no. No please open, please don’t noo…..” you whine while hitting and punching the door to get out. As you realize that the door doesn’t actually open you drop your head with closed eyes.

“I didn’t realize it is such a burden for you to be alone with me.” Edmund said in a sarcastic voice while he just continued walking into the room, which was by the way massive. Not really a room, more like a cave. You turn your head to Edmund and then you started walking after him. “Your Highness I apologize deeply, again. It is not a burden being with you. It is just…” He turns around to look at you, you both standing pretty close to each other while he looks you deep in the eyes. You look back into his and you start giggling covering your mouth. Edmund lifted an eyebrow at you but before he could respond you heard a loud sound coming from the cave.

Both of you slowly walk into the direction where you heard the sound coming from. “I think you should go and look.” You say standing on your tip toes to get a better look from afar.

“Me?” Edmund says also looking into the dark in front of him.

“Mhm.”

“I think it would be better if you went.” Edmund said.

“Funny, because I don’t agree with your opinion in the slightest.”

He turns to you with an imitating look. “Your Highness.” You add.

Edmund breathes out heavily and starts walking up ahead. The further he goes the more he disappeared until nothing was left but darkness again. You started to kind of freak out in your head, because what’s being worse than being alone with Edmund in a cave is being alone with dead Edmund in a cave.

“Your Highness? Your Majesty? King Edmund?” You yell into the dark not getting an answer back. It would be an understatement saying that you were shitting your pants at this point. But you completely lost it when something tabbed your shoulder, your screamed as loud as you could throwing a punch at Edmund. Yes your read that right, the thing tabbing your shoulder was Edmund who was actually excited to prank you a little bit but now he was just holding his eye while tumbling back. “OW!” He yelled painfully while kind of falling and sitting on the ground. You run up to him and kneel beside him.

“I am so sorry my lord! I didn't see you! I thought it was something that wants to murder me, I was looking out for you and you didn’t come back, I got so scared without you so, oh please my King forgive me. I didn’t mean to really!” You keep rambling about how you are sorry while pulling a beautiful lace handkerchief out of your small satchel. You put some water onto it, also from your satchel and you start to lightly tab it on to the kings, now blue, eye. He hisses at first and moved away because of his reflexes but lets it happen right after. His eyes are closed while sitting there with you, you try to cool his eyes while no one was talking. You were deeply ashamed having punched the love of your life, I mean the king. (obviously)

“First you can’t bare being in one room with me alone and now you punch me in the face, you must really hate me.” He laughs a little still eyes closed. You take his hand with both of your hands, your words desperate. “Oh no, no your Highness. Quite the opposite really! I, in fact like you so much that I am strongly ashamed of myself. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life my lord, I mean it. Around you my head gets dizzy and I don’t know what to do or how to speak, what to say or how to act. I didn’t want to be in a room with you because I was afraid I was going to mess this up, which I obviously did. I don’t expect you to forgive me for I have done such a terrible thing.”

Silence. Deafening silence. Edmund opened his left eye (the good one) and looks up to you. (You kneeling and him sitting you were above him)

“You always hit people in the face you ‘like so much’?” He asks mockingly and you look blankly at him with your eyes building up some tears. When he sees your tears his face changes, he sits up and cups your face with his warm hands. He removes your tears with his thumbs repeatedly because you just wouldn’t stop crying.

“Y/N now I have to apologize. I was insensitive, I shouldn’t have mocked you about your feelings. Please stop crying, I can hardly see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart stopped beating and you died on the spot, at least that’s what it felt like. “My what?” You said almost whispering, having stopped crying immediately and just looking blankly into Edmunds face. He smiled a little while holding your face softly.

“Your beautiful eyes, I always love looking at them. Just like the rest of you actually… I really like looking at you. Does that sound awkward? It does, doesn’t it?” He says dropping his arms while staring at the very interesting stone floor.

“Your Highness, I like looking at you a lot too.” You say smiling and he looks up at you again. He really wanted to keep staring into your eyes but for some unknown reason his eyes started to look at your lips instead. He took your face into his hands again to pull you closer and just before your lips were touching, he looked at you again, asking permission. You smiled and closed the distance between you.

Both of your eyes were closed, I mean his anyways because you hit him but still. You put one of your hands on his shoulder while moving the other one to cup his hand that is still cupping your face. It was just a peck but when he was about to pull away, you pulled him back in. This time moving your lips against his. Edmund was smiling widely into the passionate kiss while moving one hand down your neck. Without realizing it you climb onto his lab and kiss him faster now, both of your breathing sped up and you could hardly keep your hands to yourself. He actually bit your lip and you moaned a little into his mouth, that’s when you pulled away.

You looked at each other breathing fast, hair messy and unable to speak. Edmund tho was the first to say something. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I went too far.” You shook your head. “No that is not it. It’s just I mean, it’s not really romantic here.” You say laughing a little and he starts laughing with you. Both of you helped each other up, having hearts in all three of your eyes.

Edmund told you then that when he went into the dark he actually came back through the dark, meaning it was kind of a loop.

“Are you saying we are trapped in here forever?!” You exclaim looking shocked.

“I don’t know, it seems to be some sort of magic, we could climb the wall but I don’t know if we fit through the holes.” He says looking up at the ceiling.

“Your Highness, no offense but even if I wanted to I couldn’t climb these walls, any walls for that matter.”

“Edmund.” He says not looking away from the ceiling.

“Excuse me?” You ask back.

“It’s Edmund, not ‘your Highness’.”

“How about, my love?” You ask chuckling and he looks at you blankly.

“Or not, it was just a thou-” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Edmunds lips pecked yours smiling. “I would like that very much, my queen.” He says kissing your cheek.

You couldn’t say anything because another voice appeared. “Edmund? Y/N? Are you in there?” You hear King Peter yelling from the other side of the metal door. Edmund rushed over to the door and yelled back. “Yes Peter, we are in here! Do you think you can open the door from outside?” Not having even finished, the door went up and on the other side were Peter and Caspian smiling.

“You idiot! You planned all of this didn’t you!” You yelled at your brother, storming to him and hitting his arm. He tries to shield himself with his hands while he was laughing. “So what it worked, didn’t it?”

“How did you use magic?” Edmund asked his brother.

“What are you talking about?” Peter said confused.

“The cave, it brought me back when I tried to walk further.” Peter started to laugh, “no offense brother but I think you might have lost your orientation in there blaming it on some magic." Edmund just scoffed and turned to his left.

“Oh god, Edmund what happened to your eye!” Peter asked worried wanting to touch Edmunds eye softly but Edmund slapped Peters hand away. “Y/N punched me.” On command, Caspian hit your arm hard. “OW! What was that for!?” You exclaimed while holding your arm. “How dare you punch the king of Narnia! You should apologize!” Caspian answers with a joking angry face. “Oh I’ll apologize all right!” So you and your brother actually started hitting each other or something.

Edmund then took you by your shoulders, away from Caspian walking with your hand in his. He took you out so you both stood under the moonlight, kissing each other softly.

[maidragoste]

The Parent Trap: Chapter One

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

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Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. and this does not follow 100% the movie.

Daeron tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing sideways at his nephew. Since he started the trip, Baelon had not said a word, revealing his bad mood. Daeron knew he wasn't the reason for the boy's anger but he still couldn't help but feel bad for him. Aemond was supposed to be the one to take Baelon to summer camp but at the last moment a work meeting came up that he had to attend, although Daeron doubted it because it's not like it was a secret that Aemond is addicted to work, so now he is in charge of being his nephew's driver.

“I'm sure your father is as angry as you are that he can't come with you,” he said in an attempt to start a conversation. "He told me that he will do everything possible to come look for you when the camp is over," he added, hoping that would calm the boy's annoyance a bit.

“He is a liar. He won't do it ”said the boy without taking his eyes off the window” He had already promised to take me. ”

Baelon was upset. Just days before he was excited because his dad had said that they would have a road trip like in the movies and that he would take him to an amusement park where he was on the way to camp before dropping him off. It was supposed to be their last outing together because they wouldn't see each other for weeks. Sometimes Baelon couldn't help but think that his dad didn't really mind spending time with him, that he only did it because it was his obligation. Every time he thought that he ended up thinking about his mom. He knew she was alive—not because of his dad, he never talked about her—thanks to his uncle Aegon. It's a secret but when he came to visit for his birthday he always brought gifts from his mother. The first time his uncle cut him off from the rest of the party and gave him a gift from his mom was on his fifth birthday. He had been so excited that he wanted to run and tell everyone, but before he could, his uncle stopped him and told him that he couldn't tell anyone, not his friends, not his family, not even his dad. that it had to be a secret between them or her mom would never be able to send her a present again. Baelon had never seen his uncle so serious so he complied. He kept the secret and he looked forward to each new birthday waiting to see what his mom got him. Lately, he had been wondering what it would be like to live with her. Sometimes he dreamed that the next time his uncle came he would bring his mother with him. Other times he imagined that his uncle would show up as a surprise while his dad was away and tell him to pack everything for him to take with her. But deep down he knew it wouldn't happen. His uncle never told him what his mom's job was but Baelon supposed her job was busier than his dad's and that's why he stayed with him instead of her.

“It was a last-minute thing,” Daeron said.

"It's always something," Baelon grumbled, crossing his arms and this time Daeron couldn't come up with any excuse to defend his brother. In his opinion, Aemond wasn't the best father but he wasn't the worst either… At least he was better than his father. Viserys barely remembered the existence of him and his brothers. He was sure the man couldn't remember any of his birthdays or say anything he liked to his children. Aemond knew his son's hobbies and despite not spending much time at home whenever he was there he gave Baelon his full attention. But that wasn't enough to reward the canceled plans or his lack of presence at some school events.

"Open the glove box" he requested and Baelon glared at him before reluctantly opening it. Baelon's frown was left behind and a smile appeared in his place when he saw that his favorite snacks and sweets were there. “Your father couldn't take you but he had already bought things for the trip. He also gave me the address of the park where he wanted to take you so we can still go there ”Daeron took advantage of a red light to ruffle the boy's hair

"Your dad loves you, kid, don't forget that"

Normally you wouldn't let Aemon ride up front with you, in the passenger seat, but this was an exception because you wouldn't be seeing your baby for weeks so you wanted to get him as close as possible before you had to say goodbye. You'd think you'd be used to this after all this was Aemon's third year going to summer camp but even so, you always had a hard time saying goodbye. You would miss him immensely. But he liked to go and you were not going to deprive him of experiences just because it was difficult for you to have him away.

"Promise you won't continue reading Harry Potter without me," Aemon asked and you looked through the mirror to find that Aegon, who was sitting in the back next to Joffrey, just like you was smiling. You two were happy that your son was growing up and wanting to have his own things but it was sweet to the heart to know that he still wanted to spend time with the two of you and the three share moments like family readings every night.

"Don't worry, we won't read a single chapter without you," Aegon said as he picked up the stuffed dragon Joffrey dropped again. The baby seemed amused to see his dad bend down to retrieve his toy "But we'll probably watch the movies."

Aegon had never really been in the habit of reading. He hated every time at school they forced him to read a book. He preferred a thousand times to see a movie before reading the book. That took less time. But he became interested in reading after the first time Aemon asked him to join you in reading to him before going to sleep. Books were something his godson liked—which Aegon wasn't surprised knowing you and Aemond were total nerds—and he really wanted to bond with him so he started reading the books Aemon liked only to have more topics to talk about with him. Aemon's excitement when he understood what he was talking about made him more than satisfied. It didn't take long for him to stop seeing reading as homework and he began to really enjoy it thanks to Aemon and you.

"You can only see the first two" Aemon reminded him turning to face him seriously. The three have the tradition of first reading the book and once finished it would watching their movie. You hadn't finished reading The Prisoner of Azkaban yet so you were forbidden to watch the movies that follow Chamber of Secrets.

"Aemon, those movies have existed since before you were born and we saw them all when we were teenagers," Aegon said and he and baby Joffrey laughed at the boy's annoyed grimace.

"Don't worry, Aemon. I'm sure he doesn't remember anything. He barely paid attention when I made him watch the movies with me. He's just trying to annoy you" you said.

"In my defense, I was distracted by your beauty," Aegon said making you laugh.

Perhaps another child would be disgusted or uncomfortable that his parents were flirting in front of him but Aemon just looked at them curiously. He knew that they had known each other since they were very young, but he had no idea that Aegon seemed to have feelings for you since he was a teenager. He sometimes saw you and Aegon so in love and happy that he couldn't help but wonder how you ended up with his biological father before. It's not like you never talked about his father. He didn't know his name, you never called him by his name when you talked about him, but he knew some things like his father also liked to read a lot like him, that like him he practiced fencing when he was young, that he also had the light sleep. Baelon knew trivial things about his father but he didn't know anything about how your relationship with him was. Perhaps you had broken up with his father to be with his godfather? But that didn't make much sense to him because if it did he would have met Aegon sooner. He met his godfather when he was four years old, although he knew that Aegon had been a part of his life when he was a baby from the pictures in the family album that you showed him but something had happened in the middle so that you and Aegon stopped seeing each other.

"So what do you and Rickon plan to do this year?" you asked, snapping Aemon out of his thoughts. Wasting no time Aemon started talking excitedly about how this time he and his best friend would go hiking in the mountains.

Daeron parked in front of the camp cabins. There were already a lot of boys and girls. You could feel the excitement of everyone from the big smiles, the laughs, and the shouts. He hoped that Baelon's experience would be good and that he would be able to make friends. That something good would come of having him away from home. It would be weird these weeks without his nephew at home, surely it would be quieter. Vhagar would surely be depressed by Baelon's absence. He would miss it too. He had gotten into the habit of going to the park every afternoon to take the dogs out together and play ball—sometimes Adam and Nettes would come over too—then they would come home and watch silly reality shows while criticizing the contestants.

"Don't get in trouble, Baelon" he reminded his nephew and ruffled his hair again to the boy's annoyance "I love you"

"Dude, don't be weird. I had enough of grandma crying as if I were going to live on the other continent. I'll be fine” Baelon said before opening the door not wanting to see his uncle's face. He sighed and turned around again. "I love you too and I'm going to miss you," he said quickly before leaving to find his luggage. He barely got out of the car and grimaced when he began to hear the screams get louder.

Daeron hurried down to help him as he tried to ignore a boy's scream of “Aemon”. When he was removing the suitcase from the trunk of the car, a boy with dark hair and gray eyes appeared behind his nephew. He was tall though he didn't seem to be older than Baelon.

“Hey, Aemon, are you deaf? I was calling you” he said pouting. He didn't even give Baelon time to tell him that he was getting the wrong person when he took one of his platinum locks between his fingers. "Oh, you cut it off, I knew you were upset because Joffrey kept pulling your hair but I didn't think you'd do anything so drastic”

Baelon took the stranger's hand and pulled it away from his hair. He wasn't obsessed with taking care of his hair like his dad but it was rare for a stranger to feel free to touch him “I'm not Aemon. My name is Baelon"

"But you look just like Aemon" said the other boy with clear confusion "Why do you look just like Aemon?"

Baelon looked to his uncle for help, wanting Daeron to get him out of this situation, but Daeron seemed to be in a trance. For a moment he thought that his eyes were shiny but he dismissed it as a sun effect.

Daeron couldn't believe it. Aemon was going to be in the same camp as Baelon. At any moment he would arrive. He should be in a panic. He should be telling Baelon to get in the car to drive away because that's what Aemond would do. He should call his older brother. But he wouldn't do that. After years the twins had the opportunity to meet and he was not going to stop it. Baelon deserved to meet the rest of his family… But if he was there when you arrived with Aemon then you would be the one to leave. This couldn't happen. This was a unique opportunity. This one meeting could make life better for everyone.

“I have to go,” Daeron announced, slamming the trunk shut.

Baelon eyed daggers at him. He had just told him that he loved him and now he was leaving him with a complete freak, didn't he care about him? Definitely from now on Daeron was no longer his favorite uncle and when he returned home he would tell his grandma so that she would scold him.

"What's your name kid?" asked the adult looking at the boy with dark hair.

"Rickon" he replied, still without taking his eyes off Baelon. He wanted to touch his face to make sure it was real but he had a feeling that if he did then he would get hit.

"Baelon, you will stay with Rickon," Daeron ordered.

"What?!" Shouted his nephew with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

"Rickon, you will take Baelon to your cabin and wait until Aemon's mother leaves or whoever she brings him to introduce him to Baelon"

"Wait, do you know Aemon?" Baelon asked trying to understand what the hell was going on.

Daeron didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to tell him that of course, he knew Aemon. He remembered how scared he was the first time he picked him up, he remembered how little Aemon used to fall asleep in his arms, how when he learned to walk he used to follow him everywhere, and how he loved to give Tessarion kisses. On his phone, he has a folder with all of Aemon's photos. Every time he saw them he felt like he finished seeing them so fast. He wished he had taken more photos… Maybe after this camp, he could get new photos.

"Rickon, don't let Aemon's family see Baelon" he asked ignoring his nephew's question "Enjoy the camp," he said and got into the car ignoring Baelon's protests.

Daeron felt bad when he started the car, if he had time he might have stayed to explain to Baelon or try to prepare him for this surprise but you could show up at any moment. He couldn't risk you seeing him and deciding to leave.

When he thought he was far enough from the camp, he waited for the next red light to take his phone and call Aegon. He had to ask his brother if he knew that Aemon was going to the camp and that was why he had told Aemond that he should take Baelon there or was it just a fluke.

Aegon never responded.

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[lovelytsunoda]

welcome to wherever you are // lance stroll

summary: weddings are supposed to be joyous occasions. but for lance's fiancee, the wedding is just another big milestone that her father never lived to see, like her first day of kindergarten, or her high school graduation.

pairing: lance stroll x hutchence!reader

warnings: depictions of greif, mentions of a parental death.

author's note: i've been on such a bender lately listening to inxs, they truly were one of the greatest bands of the 80s, and I think its a shame that things ended like they did with micheal's death in 1997. i could genuinely talk for hours about it, and about the very real daughter he left behind, but for now i'm going to let the fic speak for itself.

also i feel like i've only done smaus lately bc i've just been in a total idea rut and these are so easy to make lmao

y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!

VOGUE Weddings: Inside the wedding between Aussie-rock darling YN Hutchence and F1 driver Lance Stroll (you might have to click on these to read them properly)

y/n.hutchence just made a post!

liked by lancestroll, kirkpengilly, officialinxs and 34,508 others.

y/n.hutchence today was a hard day, despite being the happiest of my life. like most milestones, it was bittersweet. while i spent most of my day in love, and excited for what's to come, part of me was also grieving. my dad should have been here to walk me down the aisle, to meet my husband. to give a speech at the reception. i miss you, dad. but i know that you'd be so proud of me.

to my lovely lance, thank you for choosing me, for loving me. for reminding me that its okay to feel all the emotions at once. i love you forever, my husband xx

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lancestroll i love you, my darling wife. you are so strong.

andrewfarriss michael would be so proud of you, kiddo

user the fact that she went public for the day just to speak about her grief on her wedding day . . . that's a caliber of person i could never be

sebastianvettel thank you both for including me in your special day

user she walked down the aisle to 'beautiful girl'....i'm totally not crying my goddamn eyes out

user im not crying you are

user her dad died over 20 years ago....she needs to let it go

-> user lmao imagine telling someone who never knew her father outside of how the media portrayed him after his death to 'get over it'.

mickschumacher 10/10 pasta bar, would come again. your harem of old men scared the crap out of me, though.

-> kirkpengilly old?? who are you calling OLD

-> y/n.hutchence you mean my non-biological uncles? mick, they're the biggest sweethearts

y/n.hutchence just added to her story

y/n.hutchence and lancestroll just posted!

liked by astonmartinf1, sebastianvettel, timfarriss and 29,808 others

lancestroll mr. & mrs. hutchence - stroll, march 2024, sydney australia

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y/n.hutchence i think lance hutchence sounds pretty great

-> lancestroll and i think y/n stroll sounds pretty good too

scottyjames you're taking her last name? good on you, bro

astonmartinf1 welcome to the family y/n! (or should we say 'welcome to wherever you are'? see what we did there?)

fernandoalonso did anyone else get a little teary eyed during the vows?

-> timfarriss i was right there with you mate

-> mickschumacher i saw esteban cry so hard he gave himself the hiccups

y/n.hutchence hey google, play 'never tear us apart' by inxs ( and say thanks to kirk for playing the sax almost all night)

(next part)

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[dreamingscenarioss]

Can you imagine how great of an uncle figure to the Sully kids Tsu'tey could have been? Like he would have made a great mentor to Neteyam and Lo'ak in my opinion. I can also imagine him telling the kids stories about how he trained their dad. He would make sure to tell all the embarrassing things Jake did and would for sure mention all the times he failed at the beginning. But then he'd share how his opinion of their dad changed the very moment he returned to the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Just imagine the kids faces as he explains to them with Neytiri watching and then Jake listening from afar. And I can totally see him and Jake having a little conversation about Lo'ak. Tsu'tey would say that Lo'ak reminds him a lot of Jake or that he see a lot of Jake in Lo'ak. You know being stubborn, kind of reckless, and a smart ass but still very driven. I think Jake would respond in a rant explaining how that's exactly what he fears as a father. Lo'ak being like him. (Because of the situation they've been in ofc) It would've ended in a heart to heart talk with Tsu'tey reassuring Jake that things will be fine.

Also why do I see him and Tuk having a really strong bond. Like Tsu'tey would be Tuk's personal body guard 24/7. He'd carry her on his back everywhere they go and they'd have a code where she becomes his "tactical backpack" incase of emergencies, like getting revenge on her siblings when they're playing. (Tuk just pulls out a bunch of little rocks and throws them at the enemies aka Lo'ak and Spider while Tsu'tey chases after them) It would also be her idea of course and Tsu'tey would just never let her down or ever say no.

In short, Tsu'tey would've made a great supporting character if he had been kept alive in the first film.

[sexhaver]

i’m sorry i’m like this too.

but this site is so fucking WEIRD about john green. the cock monologue is whatever, but you also have a post about green being “weirdly chummy” with fans and. come on that was the actual problem in 2014. he was getting accused of pedophilia and grooming which was disproved at the time and remains completely untrue.

john green wasn’t predatory for writing YA novels with teenage girl main characters. he wasn’t predatory for interacting with fans who sought him out. he wasn’t predatory for creating an online community that remains safe for minors to participate in currently. he’s not a predator and he isn’t weird to his fans. it’s genuinely messed up to imply and keep implying that a YA author was being predatory towards fans after it was disproved. he had a public social media account before it was common for authors to engage that way. we were teens and we got weird about it.

it is actually serious to say john green was being inappropriate towards children and it’s important for all of our safety that we stay Very Very Clear about what predation is and who is Actually Dangerous To Children.

first off, no, you're not sorry, if you were sorry you would realize this ask sounds ridiculous and not send it, and yet here we are.

what really gets me the most about idiots such as yourself is that you make such a painstaking show of recounting How Things Really Happened, as if there's a massive conspiracy of historical revisionism afoot with the end goal of smearing a middle-aged YA author when like. i was literally there. i used this website before john green joined. i watched him get popular, i watched as we all took the piss by editing his text posts like we edited 10000 other text posts, i watched as a teenage girl called him a "creepy uncle at a pool party" and he responded by siccing his adult YA author friends and fans such as yourself on her so hard she deleted, i watched as he called nerdy girls an "underutilized resource" in a video targeted at boys, i watched as he jerked himself off in the notes of a gifset of his own movie ("is this the FIRST TIME the GIRL has kissed the BOY????"). i was (and still am) mutuals with the guy who edited the iconic copypasta over his announcement about hitting 100k followers or whatever.

i did not suffer through all of this, the worst fucking years of this hellsite, to be talked down to by tiktok users who deign to cite the deep magic to me. he was not targeted with post editing copypastas (yes, plural, it had been ongoing for months) for being neurodivergent. he wasn't even targeted for being creepy or predatory, although that was definitely a discussion being had at the time. he was targeted because he was fundamentally cringe before the word "cringe" had been discovered, and because he took himself so seriously that you were guaranteed to get a response from him every time.

imagine if Lin Manuel Miranda made an account on here now, and you could edit his posts, and every time you edited them, he would reblog it back from you saying "haha, very funny guys, but this is an edit! i didn't say this!", which you could then edit again, and so on and so forth. and then imagine if, a full decade after this happened, people who weren't even there started calling this practice "violent harassment" because someone edited his post to the "what the fuck did you fucking say about me?" copypasta once. and furthermore imagine that when you laugh at these people, they get really really indignant and demand you take them seriously and imply that somehow you're losing the debate by refusing to engage with them, and also that this is a debate all of a sudden instead of them embarrassing themselves

[violettduchess]

A/N: Better late than never! Not a request, just my imagining what these lovely suitors would be like with an infant that wakes up crying 💜

CW: babies, breastfeeding

Suitors x female reader

WC: 2045

A cry rings out through a peaceful summer night at the palace.

It is small, but powerful.

And very, very insistent. 

Leon

A light sleeper by nature, he gets up, murmuring for you to try and keep sleeping when he notices you stirring too. "I'll see what I can do for the little peanut." He crosses the room to the white bassinet with its pale pink ruffles, a gift from Uncle Yves. Inside his infant daughter is fussing. Tiny fists are clenching and unclenching as her small head turns fitfully left and right.

“Ah, c’mere sweetheart,” he says, voice still rough with sleep as he lifts her gently, laying her against his bare shoulder. One large hand rubs her back as he walks the length of the room, her tiny cheek warm as a spot of sunshine against his shoulder.

“I can take her–” you start to say as you push yourself upright in the bed, but he shakes his head, holding up a finger.

“I think we’ve got this handled, love. Take a look.” He walks over to your side of the bed, his hand still gently stroking the baby’s back. Her tiny head with its halo of black hair rests against him and is still. Not able to see her face, he turns sideways, giving you the sweetest view of your handsome, bare-chested husband holding your daughter close, her small face now relaxed again in sleep. Her father’s warmth was enough to solve whatever problem had woken her and she's drifted back off to the soft, hazy world of baby dreams.

You smile, feeling the way your heart expands, a paradox: never has it been so full of love and yet so very, very light.

Clavis

He wakes up immediately at his son’s first cry and is out of bed before the sound can even penetrate your deep sleep. He knows how often you get up, how often you are the only one who can satisfy your son’s voracious demands for food but Clavis has told himself that the little tyrant's demands that don't require milk, he will take care of himself. You, his dearest of dears, need as much sleep as you can get.

He bends down over the baby’s cradle, brushing back the boy’s angel-soft hair, the same twilight shade as his. “So noisy at such a late hour. My my. This won’t do.” Carefully he scoops up his son, adjusting his pajamas and then his hand freezes. 

“Oh dear. I think I see why you’re so upset, little Lelouch.” The baby continues to whimper, little cries that, although Clavis knows they are harmless, still feel like they are stabbing right into the center of his tender heart. He never wants to hear his child in distress.

Reaching up, he turns the small knob on the lamp above the dresser where you have all of the baby’s changing things neatly laid out. His son squeaks out little sounds of agitation. “I’ve got you, don't worry. Papa's got you, always and--my goodness, how does such a tiny body produce this much liquid?” He talks, his words soft and almost sing-song as he changes his son’s pajamas and diaper with practiced hands. The baby, now removed of his damp clothing, stops whimpering, instead blinking up at his father with wide golden eyes.

“There has got to be a better solution to this than soaking all those linen diapers,” he mutters as he carefully slides chubby legs into fresh little stockings. “I bet I could invent something that might absorb all your perfectly healthy but still oh so stinky messes much better.” The baby kicks his legs and waves his arms, as if cheering in agreement and Clavis laughs softly, lifting his son back into his arms. “You agree with Papa? You think I can do that? Of course you do.” 

He walks back to the cradle, turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the apple of his son’s plump cheek. He could hold him in his arms forever, never tiring of that infant smell, that the feel of his warm little body so trusting and sweet against him. 

He pauses in front of the cradle. “Hmm….I know. Let’s go on a little nocturnal journey down the hall while talking through some chemicals and their rates of absorption. I bet you’ll be a perfectly delightful assistant.”

Jin

Both you and Jin yawn, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as your daughter’s cries fill the bedroom. One glance at the time and he sighs, reaching over to tenderly touch your cheek with the back of his hand. “She’s on time, our little one,” he murmurs in his deep voice even as you are pushing yourself up with one hand and already unbuttoning your nightgown with the other.

He gets up, walking over to the crib where the infant is crying, her shock of brownish hair standing up in every direction. “Mommy’s already getting ready for you, princess,” he says as he reaches down and lifts her. She’s so small in his large hands. He walks back to bed, murmuring soft little shushing noises, and then carefully hands her over to you. You help her find the right position and then sigh when she begins to nurse, her cries immediately quieted. Glancing up, you find Jin sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you both with a curiously thoughtful expression.

“What is it?” 

He watches you a moment, then shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “It’s just….I’ve always liked that particular body part.” You snort, running your fingers over your baby’s fine chestnut hair. “That’s an understatement.” He chuckles, shrugging before continuing his thought. “Yeah well…it’s just…I think….now that I see ‘em being used to feed our little girl….I think….I think I actually like them MORE now.”

You can’t help it. You start giggling, a burst of yellow happiness that colors the gray exhaustion of new parenthood. “God, I love you.” You crook a finger at him and he matches your smile as he climbs back into bed and leans close to you. You place a kiss on his chiseled cheekbone, warm and affectionate. A sigh born of tender happiness is his answer, along with the words, “I love you too.”

Silvio

“Stay in bed. I’ll go.” He’s up, striding across the bedroom to the bassinet before you can even finish rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Aye, piccolino, sono qui.” He reaches down, running a hand over the restless infant's back. But no soothing words or pets seem to be enough. He lifts the baby carefully, still in that new stage of fatherhood where a baby feels like the most fragile thing in the world.

You watch your two pale-haired men, frowning slightly as the littlest one continues to fuss. "He can't be hungry again, can he?" You have just finished feeding him until he fell into a milk-drunk state of blissful sleep, his body heavy and warm, not thirty minutes ago. He had been sleeping so soundly that hope for more than an hour of sleep at one time had risen in your heart.

Silvio lays the baby against his shoulder. His hands are bare, with only his simple gold wedding band left on his elegant fingers. Every other piece of jewelry has been removed for the sake of his child. Necklaces would get in the way of his son sleeping on his bare chest. Earrings might hinder his ability to press his cheek against his fine, moonlight-spun hair. 

"Ain't no baby in the world that could eat again after all that milk." He inclines his head towards his son. "Listen to you, cucciolo. All that growling." He rubs his small back in soothing circles. And then the most extraordinary thing happens: the tiny prince lets out the most raucous of burps. The kind that sends a quake through his little body.

"Dio mio," his father mutters, blue eyes wide as he looks down at his son. You grin through your sleepiness. "Here I thought only his grumbling was like his father." 

Gilbert

His daughter's cry shatters the night's peace in an instant. Both you and Gilbert wake up immediately, but he's quicker than you, throwing back the covers and crossing the room to the cradle carved from darkest walnut. 

He spots the problem immediately. At some point during the night she had kicked her blanket to the end of her cradle where it lies bunched up and useless. Her socks are nowhere to be seen, a display of her magician-like talent for making them disappear. He reaches down and sure enough, her tiny feet are like ice blocks.

"Always the same thing with you, oder Mäuschen? What have socks ever done to you?” He lifts her from her cradle, tucking her securely into the crook of his arm as he makes his way over to the dresser that has been designated hers. You reach across the bed, turning on the lamp that sits on his nightstand and he glances at you over his shoulder, eyes bright with appreciation. “Thank you, Häschen.” Now he can see better, his fingers trailing over the tiny rolled up socks and tights. When the baby makes a small cooing sound, he stops. “These?” He pulls out a pair of soft black tights embroidered with mini red roses. “Ahh a good choice.”

He hums as he walks over to the changing table, the sound soft and soothing, the gentle rush of a river through the night. As he carefully changes her diaper and then works her plump little legs into the tights, humming gives way to him singing. "Der Mond ist aufgegangen…"

She is curious, all thoughts of crying gone, watchful crimson eyes blinking as she keeps her gaze on the source of the calming sound. “Fertig,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the soles of her now covered feet. "All done." Then he lifts her, carrying her not to her cradle but back to the bed. He slides in, leaning back against the support of the many bed pillows, settling in. Her eyes are already closing as she snuggles in close against his chest.

You watch them both with a smile as tender as the moon’s joy in the stars.

Chevalier

The man who took an army to wake up is on his feet in an instant. He is silent as he crosses the room, leaning down to check on his crying daughter, her pale head of blond hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. He carefully lifts her from the bassinet, marveling in the back of his mind at how very small she is.

He glances back to the bed where you are still deeply asleep. “Your mother is exhausted from all your demands.” He wouldn’t usually condone speaking to a baby as they are incapable of understanding but he’s found that she calms down when she hears his voice. Even now her whimpering stops, her tiny cheek resting on the soft linen of his shirt. She’s gone very still, as if truly listening to his words. “You’ve eaten twenty minutes ago. We can eliminate hunger. Your bottom is….” He pats it gently, checking. “...perfectly dry. The room is neither too hot nor too cold.” He wraps his hands around her feet. She’s still wearing her white socks trimmed with yellow lace. “Your feet are adequately covered.” He tips his head back to look down at her. Her perfect, tiny fingers are curled into his shirt and her body feels heavy, drowsy with sleep. 

She attempts to turn her head, burying her face in his shoulder and he reaches up, helping her, running his strong fingers over her downy hair when she has found a position that is comfortable. Chevalier walks over to the white wooden rocking chair you have positioned by the window and lowers himself into it.

“You simply wanted to be held, didn’t you?” A heavy, stuttering sigh leaves her small body, almost as if in answer to her father’s line of questioning. He cups her head with his hand, tilting his face down to place a soft kiss on her hair. “I’ll comply, little one.” He settles into the chair and begins rocking gently back and forth, father and daughter, bathed in loving, silvery moonlight.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart

[gildedlead]

All of the Wayne kids’ favorite Leaguers: True and Real and Accurate

Dick: Wonder Woman! Bear with me. Please. I think Superman was his favorite BEFORE he met Clark. Once he learned how big of a dork he was, the magic was sort of lost, doubly so when Clark became his unofficial stepdad. Diana? She stayed cool. Not to mention that in his Robin days, she often humored whatever hare-brained impulses he’d get. Please picture Batman’s bewildered expression when he finds Dick dangling from the Watchtower light fixture he specifically designed to be impossible for him to reach. Diana just, -shrug- “He said please.” You threw him Diana. You threw that child. She’d probably still throw him if he asked nicely, hell, she’d probably do it even before he has to ask. It’s ‘Boy Wonder’, not ‘Boy Bat’.

Jason: Black Canary. ‘Wonder Woman is Jason’s fav’ believers PLEASE hear me out. I think that Diana is Jason’s favorite in a ‘celebrity crush’ way, but Dinah is Jason’s favorite in a ‘cool aunt’ way. He met her unofficially at the Watchtower, but actually started hanging out with her thanks to Roy. They both like motorcycles and kicking ass, plus Young Justice having Canary as a therapist melds well with my vision of her helping Jason heal. And I think she’s used to yelling at Bruce on Oliver’s behalf, so it’s no big to do it on Jason’s too.

Tim: The Flash! If Dinah is the cool aunt, Barry is the cool uncle. Guy that shows up at the function with all the best snacks. He might eat half of them himself but damn if he didn’t bring them. In all seriousness, Tim saw pretty great merit in knowing a forensics guy that he can basically talk to anytime he’s stumped with a case without having to go through the “sorry to wake you” song and dance. Barry occasionally gets unhinged texts that are in the vein of “hey can you go about ten minutes back in time and tell past me about _____”. They’re usually pretty low stakes but sometimes there’s just a “got stabbed, do-over?” jumpscare sprinkled in. Bruce will never ever get shit from Barry about kid troubles. That man is a saint in Flash’s eyes.

Cass: Captain Marvel. She didn’t like him at all during their first meeting. For a person that’s good at reading body language, I imagine that seeing genuinely childish behavior on a grown man would be giving some crazy mixed signals. Once she learns that his powers are magic in origin rather than being alien or meta, her mind opens up a little more to the possibility that his exterior appearance might not be indicative of his actual identity. Cass guesses his age by their next proper meeting and makes it her business to keep an eye on him, always asking Bruce about him after he returns from League missions. Your honor, that 7’5” brick wall Champion of Magic is actually just Cass’ little buddy. She’s gonna get him some ice cream or something.

Steph: Green Lantern. Hal and Barry are like uncles, except if Barry is the cool one, Hal is the cringe one. Lucky for Hal, being a boyfailure is a good way to amuse Steph. Those two are gonna spend hours arguing with Bruce just for the hell of it, backing each other up on completely incorrect claims (Steph does it because it’s funny, Hal does it because he believes her). He does get bonus points for bringing her cool space snacks whenever he comes back from trips off-world. One of her favorite foods is a sort of hi-chew/gum thing from some other planet in Sector 2418 that doesn’t dissolve or lose its flavor, even after chewing it for days on end.

Damian: Aquaman. He’s a king. Like, an actual king. And he can communicate with fish. Arthur heard about Damian’s temper from the rest of the Leaguers and straight up does not believe it because every time he’s spoken to Damian, it’s been “hello your majesty can you introduce me to an octopus I have a few questions for it”. This one’s short. But I feel it speaks for itself.

Duke: Superman. Clark was NOT told about Signal taking up the day shift in Gotham until he was flying in to compare notes (read: flirt), with Bruce and met Duke when they both went to intercept a carjacking. Clark tries to be responsible like “I feel obligated to let you know that Batman doesn’t take kindly to metas in his city”, only for Duke to point at the big ol bat on his chest. After that, Duke usually intercepts Big Blue’s flight path anytime he comes into Gotham and the two just kind of hang out and shoot the shit while he does his patrol. Duke is also a little bit stoked to be regularly hanging out with The Superman, but even after the awe wears off, he can’t help but still think of Clark as just a cool, friendly guy. He gets someone to share the airspace with, Clark gets a bat he can stay in the sun with, it’s a win/win all around. Congrats Clark, you got one.