#I will be writing a piece about the bat family finding out about that and being righteously pissed off because I am righteously pissed off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

su8arandspite · 6 months

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Summary: When Steve and Robin bail on you, you’re left alone with Eddie for the first time and you want him to teach you how to play the guitar. But you find it hard to focus. Or, alternatively, the one in which you find out why Eddie Munson keeps handcuffs in his bedroom and what those stains on his mattress really are.

eddie munson x afab!reader, steve harrington x afab!reader (implied)

Warnings and content: 18+ mdni, smut, mentions of the ud, canon-compliant brief gore, eddie lives!post st4, alcohol and drug use, use of restraints, squirting, limited physical descriptions of reader (though I think I inferred long hair), no use of y/n, reader loves journey bc me too

A/N: i was absolutely drunk when i wrote this ngl. it’s shameless filth, and i am not sorry. this is my first good faith effort to write in second person, so y/n is used only sparingly. inspired by the fun, spicy lil details in eddie’s room. this was originally a steve x reader x eddie threesome piece but it was simply too long, so who knows, part 2??

Word count: 9.6k

divider cr: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was a Saturday night tradition. After a particularly mind-numbing shift at Family Video, you, Steve, and Robin were always in desperate need of some fun. Really, it was a miracle that Keith even let the three of you work the same shift, given the especially sloppy work you produced when presented with the distractions of your best friends. As much as you loathed Keith, you supposed you might as well use his apparent –albeit inappropriate– fondness for you to your advantage. After the first time Eddie called the store during your combined shifts, the routine formed easily: the second that the last customer left and the door was locked, the three of you piled into Steve’s BMW to meet Eddie at his trailer for a well-deserved joint or some shots of tequila, maybe a bit of both if the day was particularly unbearable.

Tonight, though, your friends seemed to have other ideas. It was Robin who first broke the routine. She burst into the store with a guilty grin and a rushed explanation about the maybe-date she had with Vicki. And, okay, you could admit that you were happy for her. The excited rush in her voice and dusting of pink in her cheeks made it hard to be too mad at Robin. Beaming, she nudged you in the arm:

“Besides, who wouldn’t want a night alone with Eddie and this dingus?”

You turned to glance at Steve, hiding the flush this brought to your cheeks. A sinking feeling settled deep within your belly as you caught sight of the giggly girl leaning her torso against the checkout counter. She batted her eyelashes at Steve, twirling her hair around her finger. You hadn’t needed to hear them to know that Steve was asking her out on another date that you were uncertain he even actually wanted to go on. For someone who claimed to hate it, Steve sure did seem to have quite a bit of mindless sex. Not that you wanted to think about Steve’s sex life, or him with his shirt off or– No. You pushed away the image before it could fully form in your mind.

“Whatever,” Turning back to Robin, you rolled your eyes. “Now, are you gonna help me restock the shelves, or should we risk leaving it for Steve?”

Chuckling, she nodded and followed you to the stockroom to grab the carts filled with the new arrivals. Both of you took one and wheeled it off to different parts of the store. You hummed to yourself as you lugged the heavy container towards the next genre. It was in the middle of your whispered rendition of “Lights” that Steve finally made his way over to help you.

He shot you a grin as he gripped the cart, taking it from you. You eyed him skeptically, raising an eyebrow:

“Someone looks happy,” you teased. “Did my tip to recommend Pretty in Pink get you a date again?”

Steve’s warm laughter filled the store over the radio playing through the loudspeakers. “That obvious, huh?”

You shrugged. Casually, you tell him: “There’s this little quirk to your lips that gives you away.”

Steve stared at you for a brief moment, surprised, but averted his gaze before you turned your torso back to him and grabbed another VHS. Shifting his weight, Steve rubbed his hand over his chin.

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Steve, unable to avoid a grin at the nickname. He gave you The Karate Kid Part II to put in the new release section. “I promise I’ll still drive you to Munson’s, okay?”

“Wait,” You paused, whirring back to gape at him. “What do you mean, ‘drive’ me? Steve, please tell me you’re not bailing, too!”

Steve broke out into a sheepish grin. You tossed your hands up in exasperation. While you busied herself with visibly pouting, you missed the knowing smirk that Steve gave in response.

You blinked at him. Robin, you understood; she’d been dancing around taking this plunge with Vicki for ages, but Steve…? Well, you didn’t know why that bothered you, but you suddenly found yourself filled with jealousy towards the stranger with her forced Valley Girl accent and ugly purple top. Unwilling to admit that, you instead focused on the other idea stirring your nerves. Robin wasn’t coming to smoke that night, nor was Steve. That just left you... And Eddie. It would be the first Saturday Smoke Nights without all four of you there.

The thought made your tummy flip. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie– in fact, he had quickly become one of your closest friends. Still, something about the idea of spending time truly alone with him for the first time since, well, since the Upside Down, sent your heart aflutter.

You thought about canceling the whole thing until everyone was free. Except, when you floated the idea to him, Steve wasn’t having any of it.

“Maybe I should just call it a night, then,” you shrugged.

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “I’m driving you.”

Steve shot an odd look your way as he pushed the cart of tapes to be reshelved towards the Action section. You followed closely behind him, holding two tapes at a time and replacing them on the shelves.

That was how you found yourself sitting on Eddie’s bed while he deliberated over the two movies you had swiped from Family Video to watch that night— Airplane! or Teen Wolf. Not that you could care less; it was only a matter of time before you and Eddie weren’t sober enough to really care.

After a moment, Eddie looked up from the VHS cases with a brow quirked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “How do you expect me to choose between two such riveting pieces of cinema?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, we had to pick something that Keith wouldn’t notice went missing.”

Eddie shrugged. “Werewolves it is, then.”

While Eddie held up the selected tape and carried it over to the VCR player, you rose to your feet. You adjusted your skirt as you stood, pulling the plaid material a little further down over your thighs. The white tank top that you had put on before work looked more see-through than you remembered it being without the oversized green vest of your employee uniform over it. With that shedded in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, the lacy black bra which you threw on that morning popped against the white.

“Hey, Eds,” you called out. ”You got any popcorn?”

Eddie spared you a glance, a finger suspended in the air over the play button. His breath hitched at the sight of you. He wondered if you knew how good you looked or if you meant to waste it on the renters at work. Or him, for that matter. Swallowing thickly, he told you about the Jiffy Pop he had waiting for you on the stove, and stared after you once your figure disappeared from sight.

When you returned to Eddie’s bedroom, snacks and drinks in hand, he was oddly quiet. You paused for a moment, your eyes scanning his face for signs of what was going on in that head of his. You bent to set the popcorn bowl on the floor by his feet and handed Eddie a beer. The tension in the room was palpable. It pushed you to plop yourself down in the space next to him. You watched the opening credits rolling on Eddie’s shitty TV as you settled into this new position, criss-crossing your legs.

Your palms slapped against your thighs as you rallied his attention. “Okay,” you said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get wasted.”

Eddie snickered. “Okay, princess,” he cooed. “As you wish.”

A delicious calm washed over your body as your high set in. The beer was shitty and slightly warm from not being in the trailer’s refrigerator long enough, but it was the best you two could scrounge up in Hawkins. It warmed you up and, more to the point, got the job done anyways. By the time you had a couple beers and half a joint in your system, the movie was over, and you felt more comfortable being alone with Eddie.

Your fingers ghosted over the tops of the cases as you sifted through Eddie’s cassette collection. It took a while for you to find something familiar. You waited until Eddie was in the bathroom to switch the stereo to Journey so that he couldn’t protest the change.

You spun around the room, strumming your fingers in the air against an invisible guitar. It was in the midst of this little solo act that Eddie returned. He leaned against the doorframe so as not to disturb you, a small grin overtaking him. Eddie’s eyes flickered to your hips subconsciously as the movement swished your mini skirt upwards; the sight gave him just enough of a show to stir up tantalizing thoughts about the soft skin of your upper thighs and up until they disappeared under your panties. His impure thoughts brought a dopey smile to his face. It was then that you noticed his presence.

Upon realizing that you had been caught, your cheeks heated. A small squeak passed your lips. You stopped dancing abruptly, hair falling like a curtain over your face.

“Please,” said Eddie. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Suddenly shy, you shrugged. “Shit, you scared me! But,” Your lips curled into a demure smile, “I thought you were the rockstar, Eds. Wouldn’t wanna steal your limelight”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing, angel.”

You hummed. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you blurted out unfiltered thoughts:

“You know, your hair’s almost as awesome as Steve Perry’s.”

Not this again. Eddie cocked an eyebrow, “Almost?”

You shrugged, a coy smile playing over your lips. “Just a little less silky.”

Pushing your hair away from your face, you narrowed your eyes at him. You sauntered over to the bed and collapsed yourself down onto it. Your eyes flickered from his hands to his tongue as he pushed it out to wet his lips. Getting comfortable, you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs up further underneath yourself. Your hands rested patiently over your thighs as you tilted your head.

“Hey, Eddie,” you said. “Will you teach me how to play guitar? I mean, how else am I gonna become a rockstar?”

His lips quirked up at this. “Sure,” Eddie nodded. “Most songs are three simple chords, anyways.” He lifted his hands to strum at an invisible guitar of his own. You couldn’t quite focus on his explanation with his hands moving like that.

“Okay, teach. I’m all ears,” you looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning forward with your elbows against your thighs and chin resting in your palms.

Eddie marched over to the wall where his guitar hung in its place of honor. He slung the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a stray guitar pick from the desk and placed it between his lips, before taking center stage in the middle of the room.

“Now,” Eddie began. “First, you’ve just gotta learn three simple chords: D, C, and G.”

He positioned his fingers, one at a time, over the strings in the correct position. The tip of his tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. Even as crossfaded as you both were, Eddie wanted to impress you. After all, it wasn’t every day that he had a beautiful girl sitting on his bed, and he planned to milk the moment for all it was worth. So, he did his best to look cool and, if he was lucky, maybe you would ask him to teach you again. Eddie slowed the chord down to illustrate the correct posture. He played each of the three a few times then in succession.

“Then, when you put them all together, eventually, you get a little something like this–” Eddie strummed the iconic guitar solo of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” He thanked God for the liquid courage that allowed him to play Journey for you, like he hadn’t memorized the song just because he knew you were into them. Thank Ozzy for alcohol and weed or whatever it was that kept you from pointing out that Journey wasn’t exactly metal enough for Eddie’s usual taste.

And you meant to pay attention, you really did, but your brain turned into mush at the sight of Eddie truly in his element. You could think of nothing but the quick pace of his fingers. The thick rings he wore just on the cusp of his knuckles demanded attention. You bet they would feel cool against your skin, flushed and chest heaving, while he— pay attention. You swallowed around your cottony throat. White heat snaked up your spine as your mind wandered to thoughts of what else those skilled fingers of his could do. You shifted slightly in your seat. The room suddenly felt stuffy enough to run your mouth dry.

The sound of Eddie’s voice calling your name pulled you from her reverie. “Hmm?” Your eyes drifted slowly up to his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked your eyelashes up at him. WIth a faint smile, you tilted your cheek to rest against your shoulder. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Uh, can you show me that last one again? D, wasn’t it?”

“C, actually,” he corrected. “‘S something on your mind?”

“Oh, uh, I–“

You failed to think of an excuse, but you certainly couldn’t tell him what you were really thinking. Instead, you opened and closed your jaw, unsure.

Eddie let his hands fall to his sides. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “What’s a matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

The burst of warmth this brought to your cheeks gave him confidence. Eddie gently shrugged his guitar from around his shoulders and set it aside. You could only watch, eyes wide, as he strode your way.

He moved to sit beside you with his hands laid flat against the bed to support him, one on each side of you like a lanky cage, and his tall stature leaning over you. Eddie’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. As he leaned forward, the guitar pick which he wore around his neck swung forwards to tap against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

When you didn’t respond, Eddie continued: “You wanna know what I think?”

With Eddie so close, you struggled to think of anything at all. The weed mixed with Eddie’s cologne— since when did he wear that?— and made your head swim even faster. You barely registered the words as they left your lips, “What’s that?”

Eddie sucked his teeth, a low rumble of a chuckle rippling through his chest as he leaned in to drop his lips to your ear. His hair tickled the skin of your neck. Gooseflesh rippled over you as his hot breath met your ear, “I think you’d rather watch”

You swallowed thickly. There was little time to compose yourself, though you tried, as Eddie leaned back against his palms, flattening them to give himself a better view. The expectant way in which he looked at you made you melt like putty under his hot, hungry gaze. Eddie reveled in the way you averted your eyes, embarrassed, and knowing you’d been caught. His big brown eyes gleamed.

Lamely, you shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I–“

You went to call him an asshole but lost your train of thought entirely. The quip died in your throat as a flash of something shiny in your peripheral vision caught your eye. It was your turn to smile devilishly at him as you realized what it was.

Eddie frowned at the dip of the bed as you rose to your feet and stepped away from him. His gaze followed your saunter as you tiptoed over a copy of Heavy Metal magazine and a pile of cassette tapes to stop before the wall.

You lifted up the silver object with one finger. Turning to the boy, your lip curled devilishly into a knowing smirk. Eddie knew he should have been embarrassed or something, probably needed to come up with some plausible excuse for why he kept handcuffs in his bedroom. Maybe you would buy it if he said he was trying a hand at being an amateur magician? No, that was lame. He wanted to be a cop? Yeah, right! He certainly couldn’t tell you that he liked to use his hands in bed and, sometimes, he wanted to be the only one doing that. Could he?

“You know,” you lifted your eyes from the cuffs to meet Eddie’s. “My big brother’s a cop.”

The way that you twirled them around in circles stirred up something within Eddie. This, along with the plump pout of your lips, left Eddie suddenly very turned on. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said lamely.

“Well, then, Eddie, baby, you should know that he also taught me a little trick about how to get out of them.” You pulled at each loop of the cuffs until the chain was taut. “Do you want me to show you how?”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare and squirm. The suggestive tone to your voice rendered him speechless. He nodded dumbly. Your lips curved upwards devilishly. Mimicking his tone from earlier, you teased: “Cat got your tongue?

“Put ‘em on for me?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He rose to his feet at your command. Your hands brushed as he took the restraints from the end of your finger. You blinked up at him expectantly as you pushed your wrists together in front of yourself. The cuffs bound your wrists as one with a resounding click. Eddie took a step back to admire his work. You looked so damn pretty with your hands all bound up for him, your wide eyes the icing on the cake.

“Wait,” Eddie shook his head. He gripped your wrists in one hand, stilling them before you had a chance to show him your trick. “Keep them on”

The mere sight of you in his cuffs made Eddie’s cock stir within his jeans.

“Perfect,” he muttered. The remark was more to himself than anything. It made you dizzy nonetheless.

Eddie didn’t know where his newfound confidence came from–the weed, maybe, or the shine in your eyes as you looked at him– but it was welcomed either way. Playful banter and a flair for the dramatics were his bread and butter, sure, but this? Flirting with you and unabashedly ogling you in his cuffs was something Eddie never saw happening outside of his perverted fantasies. Whatever pushed him to do it, he was chuffed that he had the courage to say what he did next.

His thumb and forefinger pinched your chin, lifting it upwards to force your gaze upon him. “You didn’t really want me to show you how to play the guitar, did you?” he clicked his tongue. “No, you wanted me to teach you what my fingers can do to you”

Then his thumb pushed at your mouth, tapping against your pillowy lower lip. He applied gentle pressure to it, just enough not to push its way inside. “Is that what you want, angel?” A whine rumbled deep within you. You could only nod dumbly in response. Eddie clicked his tongue, head shaking. “Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you”

“Yes.” That was all the confirmation Eddie needed. He pressed his thumb firmly so that it opened your mouth for him. Your tongue lapped at the intruder, teasingly, as you sucked him in. Eddie all but melted at the sensation and his cock responded similarly, his dirty thoughts racing with desire for that mouth of yours.

He jerked his head towards the bed. “Sit.” You obeyed readily and sat on the end of his mattress, legs dangling off the edge, and spread your knees wide for him.

Eddie bunched your skirt up with his fists and flipped it upwards on your hips. This gave him an eyeful of skimpy lacy panties that the skirt hardly covered to begin with. Christ. A whine escaped him at the filthy sight. He pushed your thighs as wide apart as he could by the knee. His hands ghosted over your skin from the knee up to the thickest parts of your thigh. He grabbed at the fleshy part of leg just below your ass.

He pushed aside your panties with his thumb to expose your wetness to him. A slow, shaky exhale escaped him as he dragged his finger through the slick and back up to rub sloppy circles against your clit. This made your breath hitch in your throat. Your mouth hung open with the silent whine threading to spill out.

Eddie’s Cheshire Cat grin only grew as he stretched his long fingers out to hook into the fabric of your underwear, keeping as much contact as he could with your clit, until he managed to yank them down your thighs and around the left ankle. Swiftly, and so smoothly that you didn’t even notice, he tucked the lacy material in the front pocket of his jeans. For later.

“Kiss me,” your voice sounded like a true angel whispering to him. His nickname for you had never felt more apt.

Eddie’s fingers never ceased on your clit as he dipped his head down to press his lips against your cheek. He mumbled a slew of praises and compliments against your skin as he mapped a trail along your jawbone to your neck, pausing to suckle a deep hickey on the jugular and ghost against your clavicle. Only when his name passed your saccharine lips did he give you what you wanted and press his mouth hungrily to yours.

As you melted into his touch, you breathed a happy sigh against him. You kissed every last inch of nerves and desire away into his waiting mouth. Eddie swallowed it readily. His mind buzzed with the hazy static of lust and illicit substances until he could no longer hear Steve Perry’s voice thrumming in the background. He thought maybe his heart was going to take flight. Deep unfiltered want drove Eddie as he added a second and third finger to your clit and increased the pace. He blinked through heavy lids as you twitched involuntarily at the sheer pleasure.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, Eddie was a hopeless fool for you. You were exactly the beautiful, smart, warm breath of air that he needed. His heart ached for you with each brush of your hands as you both reached for a kernel of popcorn from the same bowl during movie nights with your friends. That had been enough for him up until now; Eddie would take as much or as little of you as you wanted to offer him. Even if tonight turned out to be just another one of his elaborate fantasies, he’d die a happy man—he seemed to have more and more vivid images of you in all your sunny glory as of late, the filthy thoughts flooding his mind in the quiet moments when he was truly alone and his hand wandered on its own accord towards the waistband of his underwear. He had it bad for you, and Eddie didn’t want it any other way.

Though you couldn’t reach your hands up to card through his hair as you so desperately wanted to, you caught his attention just the same with nothing but those sweet lips of yours. He chased after your touch as you pulled away from the kiss, head shaking just faintly. The buck of your hips against him spoke for you.

Only, instead of taking your lead, his touch left you altogether. Eddie stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes, awestruck. His fingers drew shapes over your clavicle, inching over to your shoulder. The band of your bra strap snapped as he lifted it and let it flick back into place. Eddie hooked his finger under it once more but made no further moves.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you nodded.

Eddie pushed the straps off your shoulders, taking the tank top down with them. Gently, he propped you up enough to get the fabric up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. With the dip of his head, Eddie leaned down to kiss the swell of your breasts just above the lace of the bra you wore, as he reached behind you to unclasp it once and for all. Before you knew it, that too was long forgotten. You laid bare on Eddie’s mattress, covered only with your skirt that was still bunched up around your hips.

He cupped your face in his hands. Your stomach flipped at the thrill of feeling your own arousal against your cheek. His voice and his grip forced your eyes on his.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled. “A goddamn vision.”

There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice that made you feel warm inside with an emotion you couldn’t name. It only grew as he snaked one hand down your stomach and towards your core again, the other kneading your breast.

Ripples of pleasure rolled through you as he returned his thumb to its rightful place against your clit and pinched your nipples, rolling each between his fingers one at a time. You whimpered, hips bucking, and craving more and more of him.

The grin on his lips only grew at your silent begging. He lifted his hand, spitting on his fingertips, before bringing it back down to your dripping sex. It made an obscene sound as he gathered some of your arousal for good measure, toying with your entrance.

Slowly, Eddie pushed the very tip of his middle finger inside of you. His ring finger soon followed, and he twisted his wrist so that his palm now faced the ceiling. You writhed under him, craving more, but were unable to find it; his other hand gripped harshly at your hip to keep you in place. Only once he had you good and still did he push his fingers deeper. The thick rings he wore were cool against the fluttering heat of your body. He curled his fingers deliciously upwards. They only just brushed against your most pleasurable spot at first, leaving you just out of reach, teased.

You babbled at him. The sound of your own voice begging sounded far away, “Eddie, Eds, please”

Who was he to refuse you? “Well,” Eddie tutted. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Eddie knelt with his thighs pushed up against the mattress. He was close enough that your Achilles’ tendon brushed over the tattered denim of his jeans. But you wanted him closer yet. He still felt so very far away. Just as you mustered the core strength to pull yourself up without the aid of your hands, he moved his free hand from your hips to splay over your lower stomach, just above the pubic bone. It forced you back against the mattress, dumbfounded. You were fully at his mercy as he worked to fuck his fingers into you. They pushed slowly inside of you, down to the base and out again at a snail’s pace. He pushed them in faster, this time, only to the knuckle and curling them.

The added pressure of his hand on your stomach coupled with the speed of his movements ensured that every move hit you in a way that left you breathless. Eddie seemed to know your body like it was his, quickly finding the spongy area inside you that made your mind empty save the pleasure he was giving you. It was an electric spark that spread from your very core and threatened to burn you to pieces. You gasped at the sensation– a weak little sound that faded out into silent cries of pleasure.

And oh was that just the thing Eddie had been needing to hear all night. His own breath quickened as he doubled his efforts. The pace at which he thrusted his fingers was brutal and delicious. You mewled, unable to form a coherent thought that didn’t include Eddie and his magic fingers.

Each curl of his fingers caused the exposed skin under his tattoos to flex, and it looked so hot. Your eyes were drawn to the way his veins popped with the movement, and the sight nearly had you drooling. Every one of your senses was overwhelmed with him: his touch was unlike anything you could have anticipated, the shaky, aroused breaths that escaped him and the pornographic squelching sound of his fingertips each time he thrusted them into you made you dizzy, and you turned your head to whine into the mattress and breathed in his scent like it was pure oxygen. Eddie was everything.

Your toes curled and your legs began to shake. “Eddie, ‘m gonna– fuckk, I–“

“Yeah?” He tutted. “Let go, sweetheart.”

His soothing voice and unrelenting cadence made it difficult for you to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. The tugging warmth of your orgasm that had been building surged until it was all-encompassing; intense pleasure slammed you all at once. Every ounce of tension left your body as you came around his fingers.

Eddie kept his fingers tapped against just the right spot as you rode out your orgasm. He lazily rubbed the heel of his hand against your very sensitive clit. Unable to help himself, he palmed at his erection with the other as he watched you come undone.

You’d had orgasms before, but never anything remotely like what Eddie was doing to you. The familiar knot in your stomach was there as it built, but it was accompanied by something else— another type of pressure that was foreign to you. He left you no time to dwell on it, because you were coming before you could even really process it. When you finally did, it was a release unlike any other.

You hardly noticed it at first, but once you started to return to your senses, you felt something wet between your thighs that hadn’t been there before. Leaning up, you tried to get a glance at it. Your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed, as you saw what a mess you’d made. The bedsheets and—oh, God— Eddie’s forearm and parts of his pants were soaked.

When you managed to look at him again, locking eyes, he was smug. There was no sign of disgust or surprise anywhere. He looked proud, almost.

“Eddie,” you said, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what… I’ve never done that before.”

Only you weren’t entirely sure what it was that Eddie had done to you, just that it was the most intense euphoria in the world.

He smiled at you in a way that made it hard for you to feel insecure. Like you were a work of art; his masterpiece, even. Eddie rubbed his clean hand against your cheek, gently stroking your skin with his thumb.

“It’s okay, angel,” he reassured you. “You’ve never squirted before?“

You hesitated. The term sounded vaguely familiar to you, like maybe you’d once heard your girlfriends whispering about it, but you didn’t think it was real. Hell, no other boy you’d ever been with had even come close to making you orgasm at all, so this was entirely uncharted territory. It left you wondering where the hell Eddie fucking Munson had been hiding those skills all this time.

“No,” you shook your head. “But it felt really good.”

“I’m glad,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the blooming hickey he sucked on your neck earlier. “Just wanna make you feel so good. Such a good girl.”

He breathed in your scent like he was trying to commit it to memory. Eddie stayed with his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck for only a moment. He was leaning back up all too soon.

Finally, Eddie pulled his fingers from you and held them up to the light. His lips curved as he admired the way your slick glistened, thick as he separated his index and middle fingers. A deep hum left him as he lifted his hand to his waiting mouth and licked them clean.

“You taste so fuckin’ amazing,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” You asked, though your head still swam with the haze of your orgasm.

“Think it might be my new favorite dessert,” he confirmed.

Your heart flipped. Though you assumed he was only teasing, Eddie knew just what to say to render you speechless. You couldn’t get enough.

Eddie lowered himself onto the mattress next to you. As he propped himself up by the elbow, he brushed some hair from your face. His umber eyes were dark with lust-blown pupils.

Though your cheeks still burned, you grinned mischievously as a memory creeped up on you. It was probably something you should have forgotten, what with everything you had all been through since March of 1986, but you could still hear Eddie clear as day in your mind, see his doe eyes widen as he glanced nervously at you over Robin’s shoulder:

“Those stains are, uh… I don’t know what those stains are”

Gently, you nudged Eddie to get his attention, as if there were anywhere or anything else in the world that it would be.

“So,” you locked eyes with him. “That’s what those stains are, huh?”

Eddie chuckled. It was a full belly laugh that had his shoulders shaking in amusement. He shook his head fondly at you.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what the stains are.”

Well, that and bong water, —mostly the latter— but he thought it sounded more impressive if you thought of him as some sort of sex god.

You hummed in recognition.

Eddie smiled at you. He gripped the hem of his shirt in his fingers and toyed with it, chewing on his lower lip.

“You know,” he said. “I’m feelin’ a little overdressed here, don’t ya think?”

“You are entirely overdressed.”

You’re unable to fight off a smile. Eddie sat up again and reached to pull his shirt up and over his head. It fell in a heap beside the mattress. As he started on his belt, you let your eyes take in the marvelous sight of him.

His skin was pale and his long torso seemed to go on forever. The black ink of his tattoos and healed scars popped against his flesh, the largest of which spanned across his stomach, just over the naval, and blended into the beginnings of his happy trail.

Eddie and you had never discussed that fateful night in the Upside Down. It was easier that way than to admit your nightmares were still mostly plagued by the overwhelming fear you’d felt as you and Dustin carried his limp body back to the base camp in that stolen RV and in the weeks you spent nursing him back from the brink of death. Eddie’s heart slowed to a pace so imperceptible he swore it had stopped and, for the briefest of moments, he was on the other side. He knew he should have died that day and that, really, he supposed a part of him had.

Perhaps for the first time since then, Eddie didn’t feel nervous or hesitant to reveal himself, scars and all, to someone else. Because it was you, after all. You, who had cursed at him through teary eyes for his monumentally stupid need to play hero and had somehow managed to remain calm enough to stem the bleeding, then scoured through the vehicle for something to sew him up with. It had been you who shooed Dustin out of the room, at least enough to shield the boy from the gruesome sight of your shaky hands as they crudely stitched him back together well enough to last until Steve and Robin and the others returned to regroup. He knew then, even in his weakest state, that he was in trouble because the flutter of your eyelashes made his sluggish heart ache. As he looked at you now, your eyes blinking up at him, Eddie realized he never stood a fighting chance when it came to you. He supposed it was impossible not to fall in love with you, the angel who had saved his life, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. And every moment since then. He had called you his angel ever since.

You kissed a trail from the scars by his chest, down his tummy, and the one that disappeared under his boxer briefs. His skin was warm but erupted into goosebumps at your touch. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as you craned your neck further down to peck an open-mouthed kiss where the head of his aching cock strained against the fabric.

Suddenly, he’s stopping you. Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks, gently pushing your face away from him. The flash of hurt in your eyes must have been clear because he immediately softened his gaze, stroking your face lovingly with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong?” Confused, you glanced from the tent in his groin back to his eyes. “Do you not want to?”

“No!” Eddie cut you off, maybe a little too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat to recover, playing it off as a cough. “No, believe me, I really do. Fuck, if I’m bein’ honest, angel, I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you in that boathouse. But, right now, I just really want to taste you. It’s a need, actually”

Eddie wasn’t done with you yet. No, tonight, he wasn’t letting up until he made his sweet little angel come against his lips, clenching around his fingers, and, finally, around his cock. Only then, after he took everything you had to give, would Eddie allow himself to come.

This confession rendered you speechless. A meek oh was all you could make out. Though he smiled down at you, a hunger swirled in his eyes that had you feeling he wanted to swallow you whole, and God, you wished that he would.

Even so, he made no further moves to act on it. His hands itched as he slid them from your face, down your chest and waist, before gripping at your thighs. He tilted his head, blinking expectantly at you.

“So, uh, can I? Eat you out?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nodded. “I’d be offended if you didn’t, now.”

Eddie didn’t waste another second. He pressed himself down against the mattress, lowering his face closer to the apex of your thighs, and tightened his grip on your flesh, swiftly yanking you closer to his waiting lips. They were wet and warm as he peppered kiss after kiss up the insides of both your upper thighs, nipping at the soft skin there.

“Don’t be a tease,” you wiggled your hips to chase his touch.

His breath hit your sopping core as he let out a quiet chuckle. Eddie nudged his nose foreword, just barely brushing it against the hood of your clit, dragging it down to your wetness.

He hummed, “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Eddie, I swear to–“

Your empty threat dissolved as he relented. Eddie shifted his grip to spread your lips open for him, thighs now caged in the crooks of his elbows. It’s when he wrapped his lips around your clitoris that the shock of pleasure shot through your spine and took the words from you. He sighed into your core and let himself push closer to it, almost smothering himself.

Eddie intermittently flitted his tongue out as he suckled at your clit. His mouth worked at the perfect rhythm and if you’d had the presence of mind to listen past the hammering of your heart in your chest, you would have been able to make out the tune he was humming; ‘Open Arms’ was surely for your benefit.

With his arms wrapped tightly around your hips, you had no choice but to ignore the urge to buck your hips against him. You got only what Eddie gave you, and good God, would you take every last ounce of pleasure hungrily.

After what could have been minutes, hours, or mere seconds —you couldn’t tell— Eddie broke his lips’ seal from your clit and let his nose take their place against it as he breathed out. He’s only off of you long enough to let out a low rumbling chuckle, asking: “Hm, what was that, angel?”

But you’re unable to answer him, because Eddie’s reattaching his lips to you and sucking with more intention than before. You couldn’t remember what you were saying even if you wanted to. Your mind was wiped of everything outside of him. Eddie Eddie Eddie. Your thoughts were a chorus of his name and him only. Eddie!

You had little presence of mind left to be embarrassed about it, as your second orgasm snuck up faster than the first. You were already close, barely able to contain your whines and sweet sighs any longer. Eddie seemed to sense this, and shifted his right hand from his death grip on your thighs—which would surely bruise, you noted with a twinge of excitement—and prodded two of his fingers at your entrance.

He licked lazily at your clit between words, remarking, “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He plunged his fingers inside finally, curving them again to find the spot he’d discovered earlier. His lips had only just returned to their rightful spot around your clit when your release hit you.

Eddie didn't let up on his suckling until you were still again, a broken sound falling from your lips. You pushed at his head as best as your restraints allowed, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. “‘S too much, Eds,” you pleaded.

He pulled himself away with a wet smack of his lips. Eddie wiped your arousal from his face with the back of his hand, though not without sucking it clean off his fingers. The grin he gives you is a delicate mix of devilish and heavenly.

Eddie crawled up the bed, long, alabaster torso towering over you as he planted his knees at either side of you. His fingers fanned out over your face and cupped your cheeks.

“You okay?” His eyes softened.

“More than okay,” you assured with a breathy giggle.

“Good,” Eddie said.

You could barely think. Not with your body still humming from your earth-shattering orgasm and not with Eddie’s big Bambi eyes blinking at you with such softness and deep affection. It made you feel like you were being seen for the very first time.

He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentler than before and he tasted of your slick, a fact that elicited a soft groan from your chest. Eddie swallowed it up. His guitar-calloused thumb stroked your cheek as he titled his head to deepen the kiss. It was passionate, sensual, and every brush of his tongue against yours stoked the butterflies in your tummy. There was a certain sweetness behind it, too, that you weren’t used to. The type of need that Eddie was oozing ran far deeper than lust alone.

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, panting to catch his breath and nuzzling his nose against your cheek. His cheeks swelled as he broke out into the fondest of smiles. You softened under the weight of his heady gaze.

Your entire body ached for him. Eddie may have been content to focus on your pleasure all night long, but you thought you might die if you didn’t get the privilege of returning that favor.

Growing impatient, you were desperate to make Eddie feel good. You straddled Eddie as smoothly as you could, settling yourself in his lap. You locked eyes with him and kept your gaze steady as you pressed your dripping core harder into his erection, slowly dragging it for friction as much as his grip would allow. A low growl came from him as he blinked up at you with his wide chocolate eyes. A greedy hand grabbed at your ass, as the other lifted your wrists to his face. Eddie pecked soft kisses to your knuckles, the heel of your palm, and just above the metal cuffs. He pulled back just enough to see you properly, still stroking your hands with his.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he told you. Eddie’s smile never wavered. It had been a joke, but he meant it; part of him wouldn’t mind if you ripped his lovesick little heart from his chest and never bothered to give it back. He would let you with a smile.

He was painfully hard; you could feel it with every rock of your hips against his. The deep ache within him felt like your own, like every throb of his cock was your heartbeat.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Baby, please, I wanna make you feel good now”

Something inside his head short-circuited at the filthy words leaving your sweet, vanilla-scented lips. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered to himself. With a heavy swallow, Eddie nodded. He gripped your hips tightly.

His thumb drew mindless shapes against your skin. “Think you can handle more?”

“Mhmm,” a breathy moan escaped you at the feeling of his cock twitching beneath you.

“Tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You gave a single nod, “Yes. I will– just, please, Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

Eddie planted a searing kiss to your lips. He pulled you from his lap and set you down on the bed next to him. You watched with awe as he finally pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them away. A rush of want swam around your head and in your core as you took in the heavenly sight of his nude form for the first time.

You truly weren’t prepared for just how perfect he was. The tip of his dick was a needy red, painfully erect, and dripping with pre-come; the length curved to the left and was just the right girth.

The kiss he pressed to your lips once he’d fully stepped out of his jeans was sweet and short. He kicked the fabric aside and leaned further into you, gently using the force of the kiss to guide you back against the mattress. Eddie’s left hand pushed your cuffed wrists over your head, where he wanted them, while he pumped himself a few times with his right.

“Ready, angel?” He asked.

This time, Eddie accepts the slow nod you give him. He tapped his tip against your swollen clit, lips curling devilishly at the whine that escaped you. Tease. Eddie gave you very little time to feel sorry for yourself before giving you what you needed.

With one slow, measured movement of his hips, Eddie thrusted fully forward. He planted his palms against the mattress to hold himself up and get better control. His breathing was shallow and ragged, eyes squeezing shut, at the feeling of your pussy adjusting and stretching to accommodate the curve of him. The stretch was a sweet ache, and you’d never felt so full. If you’d thought Eddie was everywhere before, he was the only thing now.

His hips pistoned into you at an unrelenting pace. After so long of ignoring his own need, Eddie chased any relief he could get. And this, burying himself balls-deep inside you, was better than any drug in existence; it made him feel like a virgin all over again. A string of expletives left his lips that would have confused you if you had enough presence of mind to pay attention.

Eddie lifted your hips further up, twisting just so to ensure every pump slammed into you at just the right spot. It knocked the breath out of you until your lungs burned with every gasp and whine. The curve of his cock was made for you, made to fit right against your g-spot with every pass.

You thought of running your fingers through his hair. But, of course, when you pulled at the handcuffs, you were unable to get at him. A deep chuckle rumbled in Eddie’s chest that stoked a fire within you and reminded you exactly why you had plucked them from their hook in the first place.

Your third orgasm loomed at a rate that must have been some sort of record. Eddie had you too cock drunk to care, though. It was like you were floating and a lucid part of your brain wondered if the heat of your pleasure had set you ablaze and you were watching yourself from above.

Eddie lifted himself away from you enough to get a good look at every inch of you— your plush lips parted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glistening and pupils blown wide, the bounce of your breasts in time with his thrusts, the way his hand looked as he splayed it wide over your lower stomach, meeting just over where his cock hit your walls. He did his best to commit every last detail to memory.

His thrusts became sloppier, nearly stuttering, with the way your walls tightened.

“You close?” He managed, but it wasn’t much of a question. “Come on, good girl, come f’r me, just one more. That’s it”

As if your words summoned it, you spasmed and contracted around him with your third and final orgasm. Your back arched clear off the mattress like a woman possessed, weak and held up largely by Eddie’s tight grip and where he was still fucking into you. The squeeze of your cunt around him was too much, and Eddie let out a guttural groan of your name as he came. His come was warm and foreign inside you.

Eddie collapsed onto you, the last of his strength he had been using to keep both of you upright finally giving out. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, panting into your sweaty skin until he caught his breath again.

“Well,” he muttered. “Fuck. That was… fuck.” You chuckled in response and Eddie lifted his heavy head, not willing to miss a single second of it. “Yeah,” you agreed.

Eddie slowly leaned down to your bound wrists, pressing a kiss to the sore skin.

“Here,” he helped you slowly sit upright in the bed. He pressed one last peck to your temple, then finally peeled himself away from you and his damp bed sheets. Eddie glanced around his room, ready to retrieve the key and free you, when your sweet voice pulled him back to you.

“So,” a playful smile spreaded over your lips. “You still wanna see that trick?”

Eddie hummed. He turned back to you, pulling his boxers back up to rest lowly on his hips with his eyes locked on you. His heart skittered as you blinked up at him.

“Ta-da!” you lifted your now-empty wrist to show off.

Your trick was impressive. Sure enough, you had freed your wrists from the bounds and the second cuff dangled from the chain, tapping against your forearm. If anything, it only made Eddie’s heart swell with the knowledge that you could have gotten yourself out of it at any time but you hadn’t, for him.

“Color me impressed,” he said.

Chuckling, you leaned in to him. Eddie keened, melting against the gentle touch of your newly-freed fingers against his face. Slowly, you pressed your lips to Eddie’s. The kiss was lazy, slow, and heavy. Your lungs burned as she breathed him in.

The unmistakable glow of headlights shined through the curtains as someone pulled up to the new Munson trailer. It was enough to break the delicate bubble of you and Eddie’s post-coital bliss.

Eddie grumbled, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. You lifted yourself to pull the fabric aside, taking a peek at who had pulled up. Panic inched up your spine as you recognized the car.

“Shit,” you whispered. “Shit, Eds, it’s Steve.”

The headlights cut off, and you sprang to action. In your haste, you hadn’t paid any attention to where your clothing ended up. Your knees nearly buckled under your weight as you stood. With burning cheeks, you hushed Eddie’s cackle and could practically see his self-satisfied smirk without turning to look at him.

With Steve only moments away from catching you in far too compromising a position, you yanked your shirt as far down your hips as it would go and decided that would have to do; you couldn’t see your panties anywhere and you had no time to hunt them. Eddie, who seemed to have no trouble redressing himself, tossed your tank top to you. It was just over your head as you heard three telltale raps at the door to the trailer.

Eddie’s long legs allowed him to rush ahead of you and lead the way to answer the door. His grin didn’t dull one bit.

“Relax, angel,” he assured you. “It’s just Steve.”

You really weren’t sure if that made you feel any better or it was somehow worse. Eddie’s touch burned as he slung an arm around your shoulders and you weren’t able to think about it any longer.

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed at the younger man as he stepped inside the trailer.

Steve offered him an odd look at the uncharacteristically chipper tone but pushed past the pair of you and continued his beeline to the kitchen. He grumbled under his breath as he yanked open the fridge. Steve snatched the last cold beer and slammed it shut after himself.

You shared a brief glance with Eddie. Raising an eyebrow, you asked:

“I take it your date went well?”

Steve groaned again. Even his hair looked sad, drooping, as he shook his head. He opened the can and took a heavy swig. It told you everything you needed to know about his latest failed attempt at romance.

“That bad, huh?”

Eddie’s laugh is maybe a little louder than he meant for it to be, but there was no malice in his voice. Only then, as he set his beer down on the counter, did Steve properly look at you and Eddie for the first time since he arrived. It took him longer than it should have to notice something was off. When he eventually did, though, Steve’s jaw lowered. He blinked at his friends a few times as if he had somehow imagined it.

You were worse for wear. Where you had it neatly styled when he dropped you off, your hair was tousled and messy, tank top askew on your torso. The thin fabric did little to hide your pert nipples from his sight and, holy shit, was that a hickey? Your lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, a matching set to Eddie’s, complete with spit and the gloss of your vanilla lip sheen. But all of that was nothing compared to when his gaze lowered towards your thighs. Steve struggled to look away, though he knew he should, but he was mesmerized with the sight of Eddie’s cum dripping down your thigh.

Only then, when he could still clearly see the single handcuff clasped around your wrist with its counterpart dangling at your side, did Steve say anything.

“It smells like sex in here.”

When no one responded, Steve trudged on:

“Were you two just– oh!”

Steve’s chocolate eyes widened slowly with the realization.

You glanced over to lock eyes with Eddie. He barked out another laugh, his dimples popping with amusement.

“Sorry, Stevie,” he teased. “You just missed the show.”

Your fist didn’t even budge him as you smacked Eddie square in the chest for his lewd comment. He gently caught your wrist and snaked your fingers around his to hold your hand.

“Wait,” Steve flitted his eyes between you and Eddie. He called your name softly. “Is this why you didn’t want me to drive you here?”

“No!” You shook your head. “No, I just, uh, didn’t want you to feel like you had to or anything.”

Steve knit his eyebrows. “You’re never a burden, kid.”

Steve’s pretty face pinkened as he took in your disheveled appearance once more. You pulled uselessly at your skirt, as if it might grow longer. He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you squirmed under the heat of his gaze.

Eddie slung his arm around your shoulders easily, pulling you close. Cocking an eyebrow, he called, “Aw, Harrington, you’re just jealous I got to her first.”

“Wait, what?” You glanced between the two boys, brow furrowing.

The glances they shared conveyed some secret conversation you didn’t understand. You raised your brows, asking one of them to clue you in on their little secret.

Steve didn’t deny it when Eddie spoke for him:

“He thinks you’re pretty,” he batted his eyelashes at you, teasing.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” Steve whined. He turned to you, dipping his chin shyly. “But I, uh, yeah.”

It was just a fact. You were beautiful, and Steve didn’t see why he should have to pretend that was a secret.

Your stomach flipped.

“Okay, well,” you stepped out of Eddie’s grasp and towards Steve. You picked his beer up from the counter and drank from it. Gently, you squeezed his shoulder and grinned. “Thanks for the ride, Steve.”

Steve’s pretty face darkened to scarlet, sparkly eyes blinking rapidly. He swallowed thickly and muttered out a weak response. You had them both watching your every movement as you carried the beer towards the living room.

“Now,” you called over your shoulder. “Who wants to watch a movie?”

You smirked into the beer as the boys scrambled to race each other to the couch, arguing amongst themselves about who got to sit next to you. Mentally, you decided you needed to thank Robin for ditching you tonight.

#my writing #eddie munson brainrot #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic

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jo-harrington · 8 months

Text

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #Eddie muson fic #Eddie Munson stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #store manager verse

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flamingpudding · 5 months

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Cassiopea and Orion #3

#1 #2

A/N: Finally got some time to continue working on this... to be honest this was pieced together through a bunch of different lunch break writings... sorry if that shows. Also @kizzer55555 totally love your addition on #2! Honestly I squealed when I read it! You were nearly spot on on what I had in mind to where I wanted to go with this story line. Tho I hope you don't mind that I took a bit of inspiration from you while writing some parts of this.

A/N2: Also you guys *sigh of fondness for the dpxdc fandom* originally I wasn't going to tag it just yet but I guess I will now, even if I have no experience writing it and only tried to sort of hint at it a bit for readers interpretations: Spirit Halloween 👻

Ellie frowned watching these people, still sitting on her spot on the railing. Once their initial excitement quieted down and the seriousness of the situation took over, she was left with nothing more to do than to watch the situation unfold before her. A part of her was surprised about the amount of information the big bad bee had on Danny. Some of which she thought was information that previously only Tucker, Sam and Jazz had. But apparently Ellie had been wrong.

Massively wrong by the amount of information she was seeing here. How long had Danny truly been in contact with this guy? There had to have been more than just the occasional phone calls she had caught him on. Did that mean this guy also knew about Dan? About the GIW? About the Infinite Realms? If he knew about all this why, why didn't he help sooner? Why hadn't Danny made contact with this guy sooner either? She did notice him pausing at certain points before continuing like nothing was happening. It didn't look like the onlookers minded, but to Ellie it was an indicator that big bad bee knew more.

She stayed silent the entire time, only muttering a correction ever now on then when she did note that the guy's information was outdated. Still something bothered her the entire time. Ellie didn't know what it was exactly, but the grim faces of the onlookers and the stoic nearly cold sounding explanation of big bad bee rubbed her wrong.

It was only at the end of it that she realize what it was exactly that had bothered her so much.

"What about family? Does she have anyone else left?" One of the onlookers asked and Ellie's head snapped up towards them. That sounded like... no, they weren't...

"According to her, Phantom lost his haunt. Including the code she gave to Robin, we can assume that there is no other safe place left. Unless..." Armored furry turned towards her, and Ellie stiffened only slightly as it appeared that they were finally going to address her again. "What is the status of Plasimus."

"You know about him too huh..." She muttered, not looking at any of them. "Castle is gone, whereabouts unknown, Mom was worried that he was one of the first after the first one of no contact, but that's not confirmed. Nothing turned up to indicate that."

Ellie didn't look up to see the reaction in regards to this information she shared but her head did snap up at the next words she heard. "And your brother?"

Wide eyed she stared at the man that had moved and was now before her, hands carefully placed on her shoulders as he bended down slightly to be on her eye level. Her mind was racing. He knew! This man knew about Dan. Distantly she heard one of the onlookers complain that in all the Infromation Bee had given them he had not mentioned about Ellie having a brother. She didn't react on that, instead searching that man's face despite it being half covered by a bat shaped cowl.

She wasn't sure what she was searching for but she wasn't finding it. Now she wished she had paid more attention to Grandma Pandoras lessons on Aura reading. Dan was in Far Frozen, put into stasis and protected and cared for by Frostbite and his tribe. The other ghosts were looking out for him too, they would do the same for her if she had a way into the Ghost Zone but both portals were gone and Danny, Wulf and Cujo were the only ones currently able to open portals. She wasn't even sure if they knew what Danny had done to protect her.

As her mind wandered Ellie did not realise that the people around her took her silence as some kind of answer. She did not realise how those she doubted onlookers shared grim and saddened looks. Nor how the man before her squeezed her shoulders ever so slightly as if afraid that she would brake any moment.

"Do not worry. You will be safe here with us." The armorer furry reassured her, drawing her attention back to the current moment. Suddenly her earlier suspicion came back to hit her in the face as her eyes once more widened.

"What do you mean?"

"We will take you in and you will be safe and won't have to fear them with us."

She was sure that was meant to sound reassuring but it wasn't. It made her stomach sink. With a moments use of intangibility she pushed away from the man floating backwards and putting more distance between her and these people. Danny gave her the code, told her to use it in a dire situation. That she would get help with that code. That they would help! This didn't sound like the help she wanted. She hadn't even gotten to explain the situation from her side. All they did was apparently assuming something all because of that stupid code Danny, her mom, gave her.

"What about mom?!" She didn't scream but by the faces she might as well could have. "The code was to get help! Mom needs to be rescued! Why are you acting like you won't! Danny promised I would get help when I use it!"

"Danielle." She halted and froze. That tone was stern and it was missing the gravel she had previously heard in that man's voice, it sounded the same way Danny or Auntie Jazz sounded when they needed for her to listen.

"Wait B! I don't think-"

"The code Danny gave you. It's his last resort code, personalised to you. It is one of our many codes we both came up with for our children. One only for situations we did not believe to come back from alive."

"W-what?"

"Aquila, Apus, Phoenix, Cygnus, Columba, Grus, Pavo and Corvus. Each of them has one specific Code personalised for the exact same situation you are in. I am sure Danny has mentioned them to you at least once." Ellie blinked finding a familiarity with these words but also frowned with the realisation that set in with that. Her eyes unintentionally wandered over to the onlookers, no birds, these codes belonged to. She couldn't really tell which belonged to who but she knew Danny must have come up with them as some sort of inside joke.

"B! You can't just-"

"But Mom..." Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

"I am sorry. But you will be save with us. I promised Danny that years ago."

She knew that her de-aged body was probably influencing her emotional state as she slowly floated back into reach. Before she could sit back onto the rail like she had done the entire time before she felt herself getting dragged to the side and suddenly warm arms encircled her. Ellie blinked confused until her brain caught up. The bird in blue was hugging her. The warmth felt comforting, just like when Danny, Jazz, Val or Sam hugged her and for a moment she let herself enjoy it. Dropping her guard just for a little bit to draw comfort from this warmth.

While Nightwing distracted the little girl in his arms, he made distinctive eye contact over her head with his siblings, before indicating his head towards Batman. Red Robin and Signal nodded before moving towards the man, Robin trailing behind them after he shared one more glance with him. His eyes turned towards Red Hood. The other wasn't even looking at any of them as he was already on his way stomping right out the cave, ignoring everyone around him. Nightwing was going to make sure to send any additional information they would get from Danielle his way later too. Black Bat and Spoiler stayed close to him.

It was moments like these that Nightwing really appreciated the silent understanding he and his siblings had among each other and if Batman was to much into his own head with these stupid codes and apparently already grieving. Then they would step up and if they could give the little girl in his arms the kind of help she had clearly hoped to get from them. It wasn't a promise of safety that the Danielle was looking for or even needed, rather she was hoping for people willing to help her rescue Phantom, her parental figure, her mother, her family, when she had no one else left.

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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try a little tenderness | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader one shot

summary: on the anniversary of mikey's death, you help carmy find a way to grieve. (set in the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone piece)

warnings: swearing, grief, mild angst, mentions of death & suicide, second person pov, no use of y/n

wc: 2.3k

a/n: i wrote this as a way to process my own grief over the loss of a close friend to suicide. i fell so deeply in love with 'the bear' because i saw myself in so many of these characters: how they responded to losing mikey, the nature of the loss, and the ways they fought their grief. i see so much of myself in carmy in the show and this ended up being really cathartic to write, even though it's been three years now. anyways, heavy shit ahead so don't feel obligated to read but thank you if you do.

(banner made by @allthefandomstogether)

Grief is a funny thing.

For Carmy, most days it’s something easy to ignore – like an old friend that he’s managed to cut out of his day to day. He’s stopped calling, stopped picking up the phone, eliminated any and all thought about this thing that feels so foreign yet, so familiar at the same time.

But now he has you – and he’s never been able to bullshit you for shit. Some days, he feels like you see right through him. He knows he’s been irritable, short, impatient at the restaurant (and sometimes at home too). It’s something you handle better than he expected – better than he thinks he deserves.

“Honey, can we take a pause from this conversation? I just don’t think either of us are in the right headspace,” you’d asked him the other day when he’d tried to pick a fight with you. Completely caught off guard, Carmy had stared at you blankly in response, as if you’d suggested you both run naked down the street.

“If you wanna fight, we can fight. I just… don’t think this is what you’re upset about,” you’d explained, before slipping into the bedroom with the book you were halfway through.

And today, after he’d tried to pick another fight with you, you’d stopped him again, like a tornado hitting an immovable wall.

“Carmy, I’m not going to fight you about the dishes,” you’d sighed, shooting him a sympathetic look. “I’m gonna take a walk and pick some things up at the store for dinner. Is that still something you’d like to do?”

How could he forget when he’d been making his brother’s family recipe earlier that day, setting the braciole-filled dutch oven in the fridge to be put into the oven for later? But he almost has – another symptom of how checked out he’s been all week.

He’s not used to this. He’s used to his siblings – his mom – picking fights over the smallest things that usually escalated into a screaming match. And while you were willing to fight over things that felt worthy to go to bat for, always quick to call him out when he’s being a dick, you don’t engage in his smaller, more frivolous attempts at starting something over the smallest, nitpicky things.

It’s a whole new pattern for him, and he’ll admit, it’s harder than you make it look.

Earlier in the week, he knew he’d been in a trash mood. Then he looked at the calendar and saw what date was coming:

2/22/23.

Oh.

No wonder he’s been such an ass.

And now wonder you’ve been such a saint.

“Oh, um…” he stammers, as he realizes his memory has failed him again. “Uh… yeah, we can still do that.”

He’d forgotten you’d made plans for dinner in preparation for today, and truthfully, he’d been so absent-minded all week that he’s forgotten – forgotten about the plan, forgotten about what day it was, forgotten that that day was now today. Thankfully, you’d had the sense to make sure he was off that day, coordinating with the staff of The Bear to make it happen. While you knew everyone would be grieving today, you weren’t interested in a repeat of last year when the both of you were still in New York.

Sydney, the real hero of this story, had moved mountains to get everyone’s schedules nailed down for this week – knowing it’d be a hard week for everyone that knew and loved Mikey.

“No, we do not need a repeat of last year,” Sydney had agreed, as you’d explained to her the shit show that was Carmy going into work that night, one year ago. “Don’t worry. I’ll run the kitchen. Tap as many newer staff as I can to work too.”

With the recent press about The Bear (not to mention Sydney’s official James Beard finalist status) there’d been a huge increase in applicants lately. You couldn’t thank Syd enough.

“Okay. I love you, Carm. I’ll be back in a bit,” you reassure, before grabbing his keys and your coat.

“Yeah,” he mutters quietly, as he watches you go.

After lighting up a few in the apartment, he lays down on the couch, turning on something mind-numbing to not pay attention to on the TV. He’s not sure when or how long it takes him to drift off to sleep, but one minute he’s blinking his eyes closed, and the next he can hear the sounds of pots and pans clamoring around the kitchen.

He feels guilty: guilty for being an ass, guilty for trying to start something, guilty about what Mikey did.

You’ve told him time and time again: “I don’t think it’s fair to yourself to carry this much blame, Bear.” While normally, he’d love the way his familial nickname sounded coming from you, he’d winced at the mention – just because today, it hits a little too close to home.

He knows it’s not fair to himself – or to you – but it’s something he’s just not ready to let go of yet.

He can smell the braciole he’d prepared earlier that day; you’ve already put it in the oven, letting it braise slowly like it was meant to be. He recalled the conversation you both had had about this a few weeks ago.

“Let’s make a meal he’d like,” you’d proposed, wanting to be a supportive

“The braciole. Or maybe his spaghetti,” he’d suggested, so matter-of-factly that you could tell he was trying to mask his emotions.

“Maybe both?” you’d countered him.

“Yeah,” he‘d agreed, quick to put himself out of the discomfort the conversation was causing him.

“How do you feel about maybe asking some of the others to stop by, Only if they want. Only if you’re up for it,” you’d continued, cautiously.

“Can I let you know?” he’d asked.

“Sure,” you’d agreed, even though you knew he wouldn’t be bringing it up again.

As Carmy sits up from the couch, his mind drifting back to the present, he sees you posted up in front of his little apartment’s stove top, working on his brother’s spaghetti sauce. Pangs of guilt fill his chest, and he feels like absolute garbage for being a dick earlier. He can’t picture doing anything else tonight and he’s glad you had the foresight to do this. Carmy rubs the sleep out of his eyes, watching you move around the kitchen. You’ve got a window open just in case that tricky little smoke alarm goes off while you’re steeping the garlic in olive oil.

You’re busy trying to maneuver the largest saute pan Carmy owns over the burner for maximum heat exposure when he approaches. The sun’s already set, and the heat from the kitchen leaves a fog on the windows right near the stove, as you shake the saute pan by its handle.

“Hey,” Carmy says, his voice rough with sleep.

“Hey,” you reply, a soft smile on your lips as you turn to him. “Sleep alright?”

His unruly curls seem exceptionally messy this evening, and you can smell the remnants of the cigarettes he smoked while you were out. You hate how sexy you still find the nasty habit, even though you’ve tried your best to get him to cut back, citing lung cancer as a top reason. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re eager to taste the cigarettes on his lips, wiping your hands on your jeans because, unlike Carmy, you could care less to wear an apron at home. Framing his face with both of your hands, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, breathing him in as he kisses you back.

“Sorry I was an ass earlier,” Carmy says, in between kisses.

“Thanks. You’re kind of allowed to be an ass today though,” you say back.

He can’t believe you’re letting him off the hook this easily.

“And what about tomorrow?” he asks, taking a more playful approach this time.

“No, definitely not. Cut off. Ass privileges? Revoked,” you’re quick to banter back, earning a dry laugh from your boyfriend.

As you return to your post in front of the stove, Carmy slaps your butt playfully from your earlier comment, eliciting a giggle from you as he does it. He watches you work, adding salt to the tomato, onion, and butter you’re reducing in the saute pan, while the saucepan-filled olive oil/garlic/basil mixture comes up to a simmer.

“I know you’ve always said that Mikey’s pasta was over-sauced and under seasoned… but it sounds like he just needed a little extra salt and a few little tweaks here and there,” you continue, tasting the tomato sauce.

He’s not ready to taste the sauce just yet, even though he’d suggested you make the spaghetti in the first place. He watches as you use a spoon to check for salt levels, tasting the sauce first. You throw your head back as the salty tomato mixture hits your tongue. Carmy watches you carefully as you remove the sprig of basil with a pair of tongs, tossing it into a deli container for the trash later. Placing the deli container on the counter next to the rest of things you need to dispose of, his eyes linger on the 28 oz San Marzanos.

Because the small ones taste better….

You busy yourself with straining the oil, setting it aside to add to the sauce towards the end of the process. Carmy checks his phone briefly, seeing a few texts from Richie, Syd, and Tina – all just checking in.

“Silly question, I know. But how are you doing?” you ask him, having found a good stopping point.

Carmy thinks about it for a second. He’s not sure how he wants to answer – how he’s supposed to answer this question.

“I’m… I don’t know,” he managed to get out.

You nod in acceptance, before replying with an empathetic, “That makes sense.”

“It doesn’t feel real, I guess?” he admits, taking his time as the words fall out of his mouth.

“I can only imagine, Carm,” you sympathize. “Wanna help me out?”

“Yeah,” he replies, a half smile on his face.

You’re so kind, so understanding, so empathetic, and he can’t picture spending this day with anyone but you. He thinks back to last year – when he got the news. It was the worst day of his life and regardless of that fact, you’d been there: caring enough to show up, to fight with him, to make sure he ate something. And then that night… the night you crossed the line, slept together even though both of you knew it was a bad idea, that there was no way you could start something real.

He’s not sure how you got from there to here, but he thanks his lucky stars for whatever good deed he’s done in a past life that’s led to it.

“Thank you for this,” he says intentionally, making sure you hear him as he continues with, in reference to earlier, “... and I love you too.”

You don’t expect anything from him, and he’s grateful, because he’s not sure he has anything to give. Not today.

You give him the softest smile, something that makes him want to melt right there and then when you reply with:

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You step aside, making space for Carmy as you give him a task to do to help with dinner. You made the executive decision not to scale Michael’s recipes down, making them as written – family style. If anything, you hope to bring some of the leftovers, sharing his food in honor of his life. You wish you could’ve met Mikey, and since you didn’t get to, making his food feels like the best way to get to know the man Carmy loved and admired so much.

You queue up a good playlist, working in perfect harmony with Carmy till dinner is ready to eat. Between the braciole and the spaghetti, you know you’ll have more than enough leftovers to feed the two of you for the next week. You let Carmy plate – something he’s truly exceptional at – watching him as he creates a perfect twirl of spaghetti before tearing a few pieces of basil for garnish. As you bring the spaghetti to Carmy’s small dining table that is only meant to seat two, he plates up the braciole on one plate for the both of you to share. You set the table, enjoying the sounds of the playlist you’ve set for the night, before sitting down to eat.

Carmy takes his first bite of the spaghetti, knowing that it’s not going to be an easy thing for him. You watch closely as he tastes the sauce, his eyes closing and face turning a darker shade redder.

You wait a beat, letting him settle in before asking:

“What do you think?”

He nods his head, “It’s fire.” You can see that he’s holding back tears, not ready to lose all control just yet. “It’s actually better… than Mikey’s”

You eat your dinner quietly. It’s the good kind of quiet but the air feels heavy. Carmy may not always have the words for what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t need to right now. You try the braciole together, sharing one plate as he tells you about how Mikey refused to use raisins, even though that’s how they grew up eating the beef dish. You listen, letting him travel down memory lane, only as far as he’d like tog.

Halfway through dinner, Carmy says something that surprises you:

“We’ve got more than enough leftovers to feed a large family of… twenty,” he states plainly. His blue eyes water as he continues with an ask. “You uh… maybe wanna pack this up and take it to the restaurant tonight?”

“Yeah, Bear. I think everyone would love that," you agree, the smallest smile on your lips. "Would you... wanna tell me a little about him? On our walk there?"

Carmy nods, "Sure. Yeah, I-. I think I can do that."

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @rexorangecouny @ridingthehotmessexpress @the-nursery@strawberryalicia @astronautelilanded @veryplatoniccircunstances @fonteyn @hlkwrites @not-two-shrimp

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender #still into you

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bluepeachstudios · 1 year

Text

Not the Soft (Ame Writes)

Guys I swear this isn't the soft I promised-- I wrote. A Ghost. As part of the @tmntaucompetition and as a way to cope with @somerandomdudelmao's absolutely devastating last update to their apocalypse series. Cause it sat in my head a little too long.

It is sad. Sorry. <3

Once more, Ghost was somewhere he didn’t want to be. Another portal to fall through, another swarm of alternate versions. It was different this time. More of them were kids, they weren’t all from the boys’ realities. He’d even seen a few from his own. He avoided them now, like the plague. He couldn’t stand to be near them, couldn’t stand to see them happy like that. It hurt too much.

He saw a few he recognized from the last interdimensional competition. The grown up Mikey who handed Leo a bat was familiar. The kids with the actual ghost were familiar. The older Leo and little Leo both missing arms and passing out water bottles were familiar. The computer Donnie was familiar, but he didn’t want to think about what had led to that, just as he didn’t want to think of it last time.

It wasn’t a shock when he spotted the next familiar group. He recognized them the easiest from their robot Raph, but he almost didn’t. Their demeanor was so different from when he’d last seen them, cheering Tello on.

Just one look over them and he knew.

Grief was so easy for him to see now. As much as they were trying to hide it, to brush it off to people who asked, he could see it in their eyes, in their shoulders. They were so different.

The first thing he felt was an unbelievable loss.

It felt like just last month he’d held Tello’s hand and smiled at the crowd. Hugged him once they’d escaped prying eyes. Told him to be better than Ghost had been.

His grown son from another dimension, one who didn’t even know him, was dead.

It hit him like a knife, a wet thud into his heart. Some part of him screamed in his head, drowning out all the other noise, all the other turtles but the three that had been left behind. He felt the desperate urge to find his own Donnie, to check that he was breathing to hear his heartbeat, to listen to his voice, feel his hands in his own.

Ghost swallowed it. Swallowed the grief that was seeing his child dead, even in another world, in another dimension, another time. Swallowed the scream. Swallowed the urge to ground himself with Donnie. He didn’t want to scare him.

He didn’t want to scare any of them, yet there he was, just watching the three turtles and their human companions.

He couldn’t bring himself to approach them. It felt unfair. It felt like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing; a version of his family after they’d lost their Donatello. He felt like he didn’t deserve this, like this was some window into what had happened after he’d disappeared. Like he was intruding.

They had lost their Donatello, and he was a Donatello who was lost.

Promise me you won’t let anything happen to them.

I guess that’s just what we do.

He’d been so caught up in telling Tello to take care of his family he’d forgotten the most important part of the whole thing.

Take care of yourself.

Guilt crashed through him. Guilt on his own behalf, guilt on Tello’s. He wasn’t responsible for every Donatello in every version of themselves, but sometimes it felt like he was the cause of it all. Like he was the first, the one who had doomed every Donatello to a fate of being lost, to a fate of failing to protect their family.

He added another soul to grieve on his shoulders. Another photograph he couldn’t have. Another life he couldn’t speak of.

He meant to walk away, but Leonardo spotted him across the arena. Recognition made him perk up for a moment, and then his expression fell as he saw the knowing look in Ghost’s eyes.

Ghost took a breath. They met in the middle.

It was like fitting a piece into a puzzle where the picture didn’t match.

He didn’t know what else to do but murmur a soft, “I’m so sorry.”

He was apologizing for so much more than just the loss of Tello. He was apologizing to them and his own brothers. To every version of them that Donatello had failed.

Then Mikey gave him a worried look, and it felt all so unfair again. Some part of himself that made him ill wanted to know how Tello died, what they’d done to prevent it, what hadn’t worked. He wanted to know how they were holding up, what they were doing without Tello, how they were functioning, if they were functioning at all.

He squashed the selfish part of himself, the part that wanted to know if his family could have felt the same ways. These were a version of his kids, and here he was with the urge to interrogate them about their brother’s death.

Ghost swallowed it. Mikey still gave him a sad smile.

“He was with us,” Mikey said softly. “In our arms. He went peacefully, in his sleep.”

Ghost’s expression twisted from the flat gaze he’d managed to hold. God, that was his son saying that. That was his son that had died. Not them exactly, but enough like them that it felt like he was being told his children had died in a war that he wasn’t allowed to be a part of.

He couldn’t even cry for them. It felt unfair to be so upset, to be so ruined over a Donatello that wasn’t even his.

He swallowed it.

“He loved you all so much,” Ghost whispered. Even that felt unfair to say, but he knew, and he needed them to know. He needed them to know.

“We know,” Leo replied. He touched the hilt of the sword at his waist, running a shock of purple fabric through his fingers.

Ghost took a breath. It felt like he had to force himself to breathe, like he had forgotten how. Instinctively, he signed, circling his fist over his chest in an apology, thinking they were the same as his kids, that they could read sign language somehow.

He pressed his hand over his chest and got control of his breathing again. Found his voice. “That’s good.”

He hoped the depth of it all didn’t show on his face. He was trying to keep his expression as flat as possible, but it felt like he’d lost someone important. He wasn’t great at dealing with that.

Obviously. He’d been grieving for 24 years.

“I’ll see you guys around,” Ghost whispered, bowing his head slightly. A small, polite gesture he picked up from his own father.

He turned and walked away.

He couldn’t bring them anything but more grief.

There was no solace in his words he could offer, no pain he could lessen with his presence.

He was the wrong missing piece.

He couldn’t fill their void just like they couldn’t fill his.

His son was dead.

His brothers were gone.

The world was ending but continuing on.

He swallowed it and pulled his hood up.

#ame writes #tmnt ghost in the shell #tmnt au competition #cass apocalyptic series

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suashii · 6 months

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MEET THE PARENTS

info ⭑ mikage reo x reader ﾉ 0.9k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reference to reader's parents and family

note ⭑ happy holidays! i think this is my first time writing a solo piece for reo so hopefully it isn't too bad. thanks for reading! ❤︎‬

requested by @yuukimiyas for my winter wonderland event (closed)!

reo is a punctual man—he sticks to a schedule and considers his time valuable. so when he isn’t home on time after practice on the night that you’re hosting your family for dinner, you’re struck with worry. twenty minutes behind isn’t something you’d usually bat your eyes at but you will admit that it’s strange not getting a text or call explaining his absence on the occasion he’s been fretting about all week.

with dinner started on the stove, you wipe your hands on a dish towel before reaching for your phone to figure out what’s keeping reo from home. though, before you can find his contact, the photo you have saved with his name flashes on your screen as the device buzzes with an incoming call from him.

you press the green accept button, wasting no time starting your distressed interrogation. “where are you?”

there’s a laugh from his end of the line and you can hear the faraway honking of horns. his explanation comes easily, as though you should have expected it. “i swung by the florist to pick up a bouquet for your mom.”

reo’s answer doesn’t come as a surprise. in addition to being punctual, reo is chivalrous, too. ever since you told him that your family would be visiting for the holidays, he’s made it his personal mission to make sure that everything is in order—that he’d be leaving a good impression on the ones you love.

if the preparation he’s taken so far is evidence of anything, it’s that he truly has nothing to worry about. maybe you’re a little bit biased, but how could anyone not like reo?

“you know, typically guests bring gifts for the hosts—not the other way around.” the urgency has faded from your voice upon learning the reason behind his not being here, traded in for a more relaxed tone, one with a playful edge.

“no way,” he starts, and you can practically hear the frown in his voice, “it’s their first time at our place and meeting me. i’ve gotta do this right.”

between his actions and his words, it’s clear that reo is taking the one opportunity he has with this first meeting seriously. it’s flattering to see that he cares so much, that he wants those closest to you to like him even a fraction of the way you do. your heart feels like it’s floating in your chest knowing that reo is doing all of this for your sake.

“understood.” you smile with your declaration. “anyways, did you call for something?”

“right, did you need me to pick anything up while i’m out?”

“nope,” you shake your head even though he can’t see you, “just get home safe.”

“sure thing, love you.”

it isn’t long before you hear reo’s key unlocking your front door and his house slippers shuffling down the hallway and into the kitchen. a purple head of hair greets you in the doorway accompanied by pops of red and white from the flower bouquet he’s holding. his violet eyes light up when you turn to meet his gaze and welcome him home.

“hey.” you offer him a wave from the stove before your eyes fall to the flower arrangement in his grasp. “those are pretty.”

he examines them closely, like you’re sure he did while the florist was putting the bouquet together and after he received the flowers. “you think she’ll like them?”

you hum and nod, a smile tugging at your lips upon seeing the relief that colors his face with your approval. he sets the paper-wrapped bouquet on an unoccupied space of the kitchen island before rubbing his hands together and looking to you for direction.

“what can i do?”

there’s an unspoken rule that reo doesn’t cook on special occasions. he can admit that it’s a skill he has yet to master and that the meals of guests are better left out of his hands. with this in mind, you jerk your head toward the cabinets that hold your plates and silverware. “wanna set the table?”

“i can do that,” he agrees.

while you finish up dinner, reo goes between the kitchen and dining room, neatly arranging the dishes on the festive tablecloth you had set out earlier. he kisses you with each trip he makes, first on your forehead, then your nose, and when he’s back in the kitchen for good, he plants one of your lips. the taste of familiar, minty like the gum he chews with a hint of cucumber from his chapstick.

you’re starting to get the feeling that his nerves are calming, that the perfectionist in him is mellowing, but his next question is proof that he’s still a little anxious about the events to come. “do your parents prefer red or white wine?”

you shrug. it’s been a while since you’ve had a meal with them and even then you can’t say that you paid much attention to what they were drinking. “i’m sure they’ll enjoy either.”

he opens his mouth to protest but you shush him by pressing a finger to his lips.

“reo, relax.” you hook your arms under his to rub soothing circles on his shoulder blades. he takes your advice, taking a deep breath in through his nose and letting it leave through his mouth. your lips pull up into a grin as you feel his muscles ease, the tension seeping from his body. “they’re going to love you.”

he nods, a small smile of his own appearing with your reassurance.

only a moment later, the ring of your doorbell sounds throughout the house. you meet reo’s gaze with an encouraging sparkle in your eyes. “it’s go time.”

#[ ❄️ ] — WINTER WONDERLAND !#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #reo x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #reo fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #reo drabble #bllk drabbles #blue lock drabbles

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palmtreesx3 · 8 months

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Watching your friend, Steve Harrington, go on Kamakazi Mission dates over and over again was getting kind of old. You're always there to listen, comfort and pick up the pieces but what if this time it's just too much? What if this time you've had enough and something that feels a little bit like jealousy rears its ugly head?

(3k) Warnings: 18+ Smut okay? Failed dating, angsty friendship, jealousy, unfaithful/cheating adjacent, physical altercation, female fingering, public hookup

Just a wee one-shot after someone (🧱) had to come in my inbox and talk about being jealous and defensive about Stevie instead of the other way around.

—

Steve's an honest to god, good fucking guy, so it should be no surprise to you when you find out he gave Heather a ride home after her car broke down outside of Family Video. He doesn't even do it for the praise - not anymore at least - which makes it all the more infuriating.

Watching her jump out of his car. You roll your eyes at how she maneuvers just the right way so that her hair literally bounces when she giggles. The way she has her arms crossed in front of her, hands clasped - innocent enough - but you clock how she bats her eyes a little more than necessary and how her arms dig into her sides, pressing her tits up just a little more out of her dress than before.

It's enough to gag.

He sees you staring, eyes locked on her all the way from his driveway. Gives you a wave from across the street and you wave back. Can you wave sarcastically? If it's possible, you just did it. Giving him a thumbs up, he narrows his eyes at you before turning to go inside his house.

Later at the house party you find yourself at that night, you're 3 beers in when you stumble into the kitchen. She's there hanging all over him. Trying hard to get him to cash in on a thank you for that favor earlier. Steve's not leaning into her, but he's not pulling away either. He's holding back, but the look on his face is hopeful and the smile on his lips is actually goddamn genuine.

You know he's been on endless dates lately, trying to find one girl that'll be enough, stick around for at least a few dates, be interested in more than just a fuck. He recounts every one of them for you and Robin in excruciating detail. And then lingers and festers in the details of how it went wrong for twice as long. Self deprecating commentary that is nowhere near the truth and you can't bear to hear one more time will bring up the rear.

So Heather fawning all over him tonight because he carted her off in his chariot in her moment of need sounded just about right. As did the slug trail of his broken, bleeding, lovelorn heart that was bound to show up after she stopped calling, was always busy, or just flat out told him she was done with him. Whichever it was gonna be this time, you already saw the writing on the wall.

You're quick to move to the counter, right next to where they stand, and slam down a shot glass, filling it to the brim with whatever amber liquid you reached for first. When Steve reaches out to make sure you're okay.. suggest you slow down even, he touches your hand to stop you and you're taken aback by the shudder that runs up your body at his touch. You look at him, and then over to her and all you snap out is some comment about how you're just pre-medicating. When this blows up in your face I want to be ready. You gesture between the pair.

You're not sure why you're being so mean today. Sure you're sick of the same old song and dance with him, but today you're angry about it and that's…new. She doesn't even notice your little outburst, fingers aimlessly toying with the tufts of hair brushing his neck while she stares off into the distance of the party. Steve, however, notices and is left to wonder why you're being such a bitch about it tonight. Wonders if your problem was with him… or Heather.

Another hour later you're leaning against the brick of the house out back, hot cigarette held between your fingers, smoke billowing in the air around you. The sickly sweet sounds of a giggle coming from between the hydrangeas caught your ear. A giggle straight from the mouth of that blonde haired bimbo you could pinpoint from a mile away. It sucker punched you in the gut knowing how this was going to all go, and the disgusting slurping sounds of her tongue down Steve Harrington's throat just a few feet away made your eyes roll.

Here we go.

Making sure you loudly push through the opening in the bushes, full with browning gloves of delicate petals, you scoff at the sight of the back of Heather's head, lips now tucked into the crook of his neck.

Jason's neck.

Not Steve's.

There's absolutely no reason for you to do what you do next. Not one that makes logical sense, really. Because you open your mouth and can not help but tell Heather where to stick it. You call her a few names, some of them not very pretty, before turning on your heel and swinging the sliding door open to go back inside.

Your mild annoyance with Heather's antics is suddenly festering into a blind, boiling rage, which made the fact that she decided to follow you a really, really bad one.

What is your problem? She asks me.

And at first you don't know what it is. Sure she's acting like a sloppy girl throwing herself on Steve…or apparently anyone who might just fuck her even more stupid than she already is. But she's not the first girl you know to act like that. Not the first or the last Hawkins Hot Shot who thinks they're too pretty for this hometown.

But then the words spew out and it's pretty clear why there's a fire lit inside you. Each step closer you get to Heather you're giving her hell.

My problem? What's yours? I'm so damn sick and tired of girls like you acting like this.

Girls like me? What does that mean, huh?

Yeah, like what? You wonder to yourself.

Like Steve is some fucking goddamn pet that you can lead around on a leash. Pet when you want something. Tie up when you don't.

Oh.

You're just another one of these stupid fucking girls. It's disgusting how you treat him. Disgusting, you know that?

You continue on with a drunken dissertation about how Steve Harrington deserves more than these stupid vapid girls and how not one of them deserved him.

There's a small crowd growing, drawn to your loud voice and colorful language. And she's clearly tired of the show. Never really caring all that much about Steve, more about the hookup, now that she's got Jason in her grip Steve is an afterthought.

Until he's standing right in front of her.

Heather. He says. Big brown doe eyes looking sad and disappointed… again. Makes your gut fucking churn.

Pushing your way through the crowded living room you're out the front door before you know it, not wanting to stick around to hear whatever she had to say to him. You didn’t want to watch his face fall and realize it’s over before it even started

Leaning against the first car you see, you tisk your tongue as you realize that the one you landed on was his. Has to be, doesn't it?

There's an odd silence there.The thick sounds of the music muffled by the walls of the house are there, but you pay them no mind. There’s squeals and drunk laughter and chanting, but they all feel so distant. It’s a silence that doesn’t actually exist. One you created. But then, what does crack through your bubble - the thing that breaks the silence…

What you said… did you mean that?

You don't even look up. You nod your head. You explain that you're sick of it. Sick of hearing about all of these girls walking all over the nicest guy you know. Sick of the games they play. Sick. You didn’t look up from your shoes once.

It's fine. Really. I deserve it. I used to be no better than them.

Shut the fuck up, already! Don't you say that.

Maybe. Maybe that's true. You demand that he stop beating himself up. Punishing himself for something - someone - who's been dead and long gone for years. You tell him how you can't stand these girls making a mockery of him when he's genuinely trying. Tell him how you're gonna fuck up the next one that thinks it's all a game.

Shit. Well .. thats …

What? Confusion clouds your brain. Not sure what he's trying to say.

Steve. I just don't want anything to hurt you. Not a demodog… or a stupid girl. It's always the same and I'm sick of seeing you think you deserve it. Like, sometimes I think you fuckin do this on purpose to yourself.

What do I deserve then, huh? What am I supposed to do? Because I don’t fuckin' know.

Steve…just stop it. You scoff.

Gravel is kicked up behind you and the footsteps you hear are drawing closer to you, a smarmy and whiney voice comes out to greet you Well well well, thanks for that show in there.

Jason, I swear to God, you need to keep it moving. Fists curling at your sides without a thought.

Didn’t know you got this little thing to fight your battles for you now, Harrington. Real cute. Total fall from grace, huh?

You’re on him quicker than he knows what to do. The last thing he expected was for you to wind up and clock him dead in the face. Jason falls backwards a few steps stumbling as he grabs at his face, covering the tender spot where you knocked him, the left side of his nose and just below the eye. He's not bleeding, per say. But you take note of the deep purple stain already pooling in the dip of his eye socket, so you know that mother fucker is gonna feel it for weeks.

He doesn't need me to fight his battles, Jason. You say his name dripping with sarcasm.

Then why'd ya punch me, you bitch? Sure looks like it.

You hear him step forward. You just know the tense look in Steve's face and the way his jaw is set and clenched without even turning around. You know the blind rage he gets when he feels like he needs to defend one of his friends - someone he cares about. You're certain the muscles in his lips are ticking and twitching with anger. And you don't have time for his theatrics tonight. You've had enough of it already, so you reach your hand out and backwards, stopping him by his chest so he stops his advance.

Instead you step forward. Not scared in the least of Jason fuckin' Carver and his buttercup yellow polo shirt. You smirk as you see a drop of crimson blood has fallen from the tip of his nose and onto its front, just knowing how he's going to have to ask his Mommy to get the stain out for him.

I punched you because you're annoying me. Your face is stupid, you talk too much and you don't know when to mind your own goddamn business. Where's Heather anyway? You two are perfect for one another.

You turn on your heels and walk to the other side of Steve's car, leaning against the side and not looking back at Jason and his idiot stuck up friends as they stumble down the neighborhood road away from the party.

Steve comes around the back of the car, looking at you. He hasn't said a word, so that's been great. Probably thinks you're certified insane tonight with the way things are going.

Steve, I'm good. Jason is clearly not an issue anymore. You should go find Heather -

But you're cut off before you can finish, because in a few long strides he's in front of you, grabbing at your shoulders to bring your eyes up to his. Telling you how it's hot when you defend his honor. 6. Talking about how hot it was when you were looking at him all jealous of another girl's attention and affection. About how he never noticed it before but now it makes so much sense.

I don't do that. I didn't -

Now it's his turn to scoff.

You ask him what's so funny? And he literally doesn't answer you, just laughs some more with a shake of his head. Eyes roaming around your surroundings. He hasn't moved away from where he's standing in front of you. Somehow HE looks annoyed with YOU now and you're ready to pick a fight about it.

Instead, all of the air is stolen from your lungs when Steve Harrington leans down and crashes his lips onto yours.

What was that for? You shove him back a little, but his feet are planted and he doesn't budge.

The smile turning up the corner of his lips is irritating. Irritating because you don't know why he's smiling, but doubly so because it is really fucking cute. Oh nothing, just wanted to show my girl how much I appreciate her.

Your girl? Steve, you are sorely mistaken. Did you hit your head? Heather is -.

Honey. Stop. Let's not do this.

He argues with you. Tells you how it all makes so much sense. About how none of the girls are you, so of course they didn't work. About how of course you're frustrated and feel protective. About how those dagger eyes you were wielding all night were, in fact, jealousy. Because you both feel the same way and neither was smart enough to notice.

I'm done with Heather, honey. I'm done with all the Heathers. He waves his hand at the house party, still booming with noise and energy, but only focused on you.

The feverous press of his lips back on yours happens before you can even process what he's said. Pressed against the side of his car, his hands quickly slide up your side, finding a warm and comfortable home under the hem of your sweater. Cold fingertips dancing up your sides, thumbs squeezing where it's soft and dips into your tummy, knee sliding between your legs all in one smooth motion.

He pulls his lips away to look at you, both of you panting deep breaths, chests rising and falling and eyes darting around one another's faces, trying to process what's unfolding for you both right now.

Sorry.

He huffs out an apology. Says he shouldn't have. Says he wasn't thinking. Says he's never thinking straight. Goes to pull away.

You grab his wrist as he tries to retreat.

They're all fuckin' stupid. Steve, they're all stupid. I've been telling you every time. Every single goddamn time.

He looks back at you, still unsure. Eyes a little sad - wavering. Guard down further than you've seen it in years.

And if any one of them got their head out of their asses, they'd have been so fuckin' lucky.

He goes to speak before you stop him - Don't. Don't say it. Don't do that bullshit again. Just …

Back against the side of the BMW he's pressed into you tightly. Hands wrapped around your hips, fingertips digging into the denim covering your ass as he squeezes. It really was like… the hottest fuckin' thing to watch you punch Jason Carver… for me. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles where they're sure to be sore tomorrow.

Can I say thank you?

He asks you with pleading eyes. You ask him Didn't you just say it? He shakes his head. Tells you that's not how he wants to say it. Tells you that's not what he means. That he wants to show you instead.

And once you nod your head at him, theres no time for anything. No time for thinking, moving, rational decision making. Because you're just there, in between Steve's car and some janky van parked next to it, as he's tugging at your button, crooking his fingers in your belt loops, making it just so he can slide his hand inside your underwear and maneuver his fingers to your core.

He's so fuckin' gentle it makes your head spin. Featherlight touches around you, gently playing with the folds and petals of your lips, a slippery waltz on and around your clit, dancing with his fingertip. Eyelashes fluttering with your head tilted back and resting on his car door, unable to formulate words or phrases or noises - rendered utterly frozen and useless..

What stupid fucking assholes. Those girls took a pass on this? On this boy who just wants someone to be with. On all this care, and attention and - oh my God.

You're pulled from your blissful thoughts by a deep pressure, a fullness you didn't expect from Steve's long and thick fingers entering you briskly. Mouth open and gasping at the twist and turns of them until he finds a spot that makes you twitch, a spot he likes. A juxtaposition to those gentle caresses, he's driving his fingers deep into your pussy now, reaching and rubbing.

Still soft and careful but deep and forefull. He's not driving his fingers into you like the last guy who used his hand like a jackhammer. No, Steve is caressing your pussy and following through with a deep roll of his fingers on the upswing. Pushing back, pushing upwards, making your hips buck up towards him uncontrollably. You cry out when he scissors his fingers just a bit and then follows up with the quick addition of a third finger.

As abruptly as he's inside, he's back out again, rubbing and circling over you with his four, flat fingers, satisfying pressure on your clit making you forget about how you missed them being inside you for just a moment.

Shit, Steve…I- someone's gonna see.

Let them. Fuck… let them. I hope they do. Then they'll know.

Slipping those fingers right back inside, slick and squelching, toying with you, making you suck all of the air out of the world around you, he brings himself right next to your ear, pressed up against you. Cheek to cheek. You feel the muscles on his forearm tensing and flexing as he pumps into you ruthlessly. White hot pleasure swirling deep in your stomach, staccato breaths brushing past his ear, eyes squeezed shut your orgasm ripples through your body - tummy to toes, tingling running up your spine and back down again as you exhale from a breath you didn't know you were holding.

He hasn't pulled away yet. Hadn't looked at you. Fingers still inside, palm pressed up against the car just beside your face as he whispers They'll know I'm done with them now. Cause I've always had you.

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic

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m-musings · 9 months

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Winging It: Buggy The Clown X Winged! Fem! Reader Pt. 1

A/N: bless the one piece fans for getting me into the show and introducing me to this man because he is just so FJSCBKGHLKDGW, like you feel me? anywaysss, first time writing for one piece, let's do this whoooo!

(part 2 here! :] )

Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Buggy asks (Y/n) to help out with an unusual task, chaos ensues. Warnings: a dude being a creep to reader later on and a little bit of ooc on Buggy's behalf, but other than that, just some good ol' fluff!

It all started out as a perfectly normal day.

After another busy day on the Big Top and another successful "show", Buggy had given the majority of his crew the day off to do whatever they wished.

As soon as (Y/n) was able, she unfurled her feathery wings and flew up to the crows nest, needing to get away from the madness down on the deck for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) took a deep breath of the refreshing ocean air as the breeze blew softly against her face.

Having joined Buggy's crew a few months earlier, she had never expected her life to change as much as it did as fast as it did.

(Y/n) originally came from a life as the sole inhabitant of a tiny island in the middle of the East Blue. One day, the Big Top and its crew happened to be sailing by and stopped to search the island for any supplies they could find.

Fearing the worst, (Y/n) grabbed her baseball bat and and flew out of her hut to stop the pirates from getting any closer.

After fending off a few of the crew members, Buggy swiftly stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, being unusually calm and level headed as he addressed (Y/n).

Realizing her wings could be useful to him in shows and in pillaging, Buggy invited her to join him and his pirates instead of struggling to keep herself alive and entertained on her little islet.

With a hesitant but quick decision, (Y/n) agreed, asking for some time to pack some personal items before Buggy and the rest of the crew led her back to the boat, intent on celebrating a new member of the gang.

Quickly learning the ropes of pirating and climbing up the ranks of the crew, (Y/n) eventually became a high ranking member, just behind Mohji and Buggy himself.

She even managed to become friends with the quirky captain, to the the slight disbelief of the rest of their crewmates. In addition, after getting to know each other a bit more, that friendship slowly turned into a (huge) crush on (Y/n)'s part, but neither Buggy nor anyone else needed to know that part.

And even though the start of her pirating adventure was a little strange, (Y/n) could never say she missed her old life. Being apart of the Big Top Crew gave her the family and friends she was sorely missing on her island.

Reveling in the quiet of the air, (Y/n) smiled to herself as she thought of her new existence as the Big Top's resident trapeze artist, grateful that she now had the world at her fingertips, plus people to fight beside and fight for.

As she reminisced upon the past, her eyebrows perked up when she heard ropes creaking from somewhere down below.

"Hey doll! Figured I'd find you up here!" Grunted a voice from beside her.

She cracked one of her eyes open to see Buggy climbing up the rigging, the tail of his bandana flowing behind him.

"Hey, Cap! Did you need something?"

"Nah, not right now. But I might once we get to the island we're headed to. If the winds are good, we should get there in the next 2 days."

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot! What's so special about this island anyway? Isn't the stop just for us to stock up again before we head out to meet Alvida?" (Y/n) questioned, sitting down on the floor of the crows nest as she scootched over to make some room for Buggy.

"That's part of it, yes, but the main reason we're stopping is because a couple of our cannons were destroyed in our last fight with the Marines. There's a few weaponsmiths in a city there that are willing to sell us a few new ones if we can negotiate a good price for both of us."

"So we need them to agree to our bargain so we don't get demolished by another battle on the way to meet Alvida?"

"Exactly! You're one smart cookie.

"Hmm, I try." She shrugged with pleased grin, her wings fluffing out in sync.

"You sure do, (Y/n/n). Anyways, I came to see if you would be willing to come with me, just to make sure nothing fishy happens while I'm not paying attention. Maybe pretend to be my arm candy to trick them, y'know?"

"Me? Can't someone, like, Cabaji do it? He's got way more experience with this stuff than I do."

"He's gonna be in charge of the ship while we're gone. Plus, I mean, you're the only one who would make spending time with dumbasses like these smith guys bearable. You would save me of literally dying of boredom."

"Pfft, I doubt that" Answered (Y/n) as she rolled her eyes at the clown's exaggeration.

Buggy chuckled, smiling softly at the girl as he rested his arm atop her shoulder.

The action causes a very subtle blush to appear on her face, which she tries to keep hidden by scratching at her neck.

"So whadya say, huh? Wanna go on a little adventure with me?"

(Y/n) sighed with a sputter of her lips before turning to answer the blue haired man.

"Sure, Captain, I'll come along. It could be kinda fun."

"Aww, thanks (Y/n), you're the best! Even better than Mohji! But don't tell him that." Whispered Buggy as he jokingly cupped his hand over his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, Captain." she laughed softly, bumping her shoulder with his.

"And I take pride in that. It's all I got goin' for me, after all." Chuckled Buggy, who shrugged and leaned back in reply.

(Y/n) gave him an amused grin in reply before shifting her eyes back towards the big blue ocean that surrounded them.

The two then sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the voice of another crewmate called out for Buggy from somewhere on the main deck.

"Well, sweets, duty calls. See you later, huh?" Buggy said with a salute before he made his way back down the rigging.

As he disappeared from sight, (Y/n) bashfully put her head in her hands as she tried not to overthink the nickname her captain had given her.

"Oh, damn.... what have I gotten myself into?..." (Y/n) questioned herself as she placed her head against her knees.

After a few more minutes of sitting by herself while she scanned the horizon, Buggy yelled out, calling the crew back to the deck for another show.

With a small shake of her head, (Y/n) stood up, stretched, and flew down to gather with the rest of the troupe.

Just as Buggy had said, the Big Top had reached it's island destination a couple days later. Thankfully, there wasn't many Marines in this town, meaning the crew could go into town to stretch their legs on land and get any supplies they might need for the rest of the trip.

Still on the ship, (Y/n) sat below deck as she tried to find something other than her circus costume to wear, wanting to be able to blend into the crowds better or just in case a high ranking Marine or someone from the World Government showed up and recognized her alongside Buggy.

Rummaging through her chest of clothes, her wings fluttered as she finally found a simple black tank top and a pair of jeans.

After placing the clothing on her bed and gliding over to a nearby vanity to do some basic makeup, she heard a knock at her door while she applied some light rouge to her face.

"Come in, it's open!" She announced as she grabbed another brush from the vanity drawer.

Looking behind her using the mirror, she saw a familiar orange pirate hat pop into view.

"Are you decent?" Buggy said as he entered the room, his disembodied hands floating in front of his face to cover his eyes

"Yes, Captain, you can open your eyes if you want." (Y/n) giggled as she put on some finishing touches of makeup.

Popping off one of his fingers to glance at the girl, he gasped lightly as he finally saw her face.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" Buggy said with an impressed nod.

"Really? It's not much different than my usual casual looks..." Claimed (Y/n) as she timidly placed a hand upon her cheek.

"Either way, angel, you look good. But I suppose that's beside the point. I just came to tell you to be ready to go by sundown. I'll be waiting on the dock, Don't be late." He winked before leaving the room.

With a huff as she tried to compose herself, (Y/n) stood up to get dressed and mentally prepare herself for the night.

Within just a few short hours, the sun had finally set upon the island, and right on cue, (Y/n) left her quarters and strutted over to the deck railing to see Buggy down on the pier waiting for her.

"Ah, (Y/n) there you are! I was worried for a sec, thought you were gonna chicken out on me!"

"No, I'm here. Someone has gotta keep an eye on you!"

"Well, I'm glad that someone is you. Shall we go?" Buggy motioned as (Y/n) climbed down to meet him.

"Yes, we shall, mon capitaine!" (Y/n) quipped as he held her head up high with a light giggle.

"C'mon, let's get going." Chuckled Buggy in response as the two made their way out of the marina.

After a minute or so of idle chatter about their days, (Y/n) spoke up with a question she had been meaning to ask.

"What do we do if they don't agree to give us the cannons for the price you set?"

"Well If that happens, I guess we'll just have to... wing it!" Buggy quipped as he gave the girl a sly grin.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!" (Y/n) fake laughed as she playfully smacked Buggy's back with one of her wings.

"Thank you! I am funny!" Buggy declared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful to avoid the feathers on her back.

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in reply as she moved her gaze to the cobblestone ground beneath them.

"So where exactly is this weapons store at?"

"Not far, we come to this place every so often so I know the quickest way to get there."

(Y/n) nodded in acknowledgement as Buggy began to tell her some fun stories about his past adventures here.

About 15 minutes later, Buggy made an excited noise as he realized where they were.

"Ok, (Y/n/n), the weaponsmiths store is just up ahead, I'll lead you there." He announced, taking her hand until they found the place they needed to be.

As the door swung open, a little bell rang overhead, signaling to the two workers that someone had entered the shop.

"Gentlemen! How's it going, am I late to the party?!"

"Ah, you must be the guy that contacted us the other day! Nah, you're right on time! Did you bring cash?" Asked one of the men who (Y/n) assumed was the shop owner.

Buggy rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large stack of berry from his pocket and placed it onto a nearby counter, in front of the younger man with black hair.

"Perfect! If you follow me, I can show you the canons we currently have on stock." the older of the two men said, leading Buggy past a few rows of shelves and cabinets to another part of the store.

Just before they rounded the corner, Buggy and (Y/n) gave each other a reassuring nod.

After a brief moment of looking around at the various weapons and items scattered across the room, (Y/n)'s attention was grabbed by the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat.

She slowly whirled back around to see the younger of the two shopkeepers looking her up and down.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doin' on this fine evening?" The man who stayed at the counter smirked, looking at (Y/n) with something dangerous flashing in his eyes

"Fine, thanks..." (Y/n) giving him a polite smile

"So, you uh, doing anything tonight?"

"Just getting those cannons, then we're headed back out."

"Aw come on, you couldn't stay for... say, one drink with me at the bar in town?"

"Um, thanks but no thanks, I've got stuff to do back on our ship." Responded the girl as she took a few steps backwards

"Are you sure? I could give you a real fun time, cutie!" Chuckled the man as he walked around the counter to stand in front of (Y/n) with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, positive. Sorry." (Y/n) finalized as she started to walk away, but was near-instantly stopped.

"Oh, come on, pretty birdy, leave that idiotic clown guy and spend the night with a real man huh?!" The man cackled as he grabbed onto (Y/n)'s wrist and pulled her into his chest.

"Ow! Let me go!" Hissed (Y/n) as she began to tug against the mans grasp, flapping her wings slightly to give her a bit more leverage.

The man laughed crudely before grabbing her other arm and trapping her against a shelf.

"Hey, maybe that stupid pirate will let me keep you! Who knows, maybe we can see all of the things those pretty little wings of yours can do!"

With a disgusted scoff, (Y/n) went to grab a small dagger she had hidden in her left pocket, but before she could even find it, a white-gloved hand shot across the store to grip the black haired man's collar.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?!" Buggy inquired, his voice menacingly low as he appeared back from the other side of the store.

"Uh, well, you see I- it's um-"

"Answer me!"

"C'mon, It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!" The man tried to convince the Captain as he let out a nervous laugh.

"Didn't seem very funny to me..." Buggy stated as he glared daggers at the shopkeeper.

"You're right, it wasn't, I- I apologize-" he stammered with a fearful whimper before Buggy pushed him back against the counter with a growl.

"If you ever try to touch anyone on my crew again, I'll personally make sure you lose both of your hands, got it?!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry! It won't happen again, sir!" The man agreed with a frightened look at the pirate.

Buggy scoffs irately, throwing the man onto the floor before picking the berry back up and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"C'mon, (Y/n), we're getting the hell outta here." Buggy spat as he gingerly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shop.

Confusedly sputtering as they clambered back down the road, (Y/n) stared at Buggy with wide eyes.

"Slow down a little, please!" (Y/n) said, stumbling as she tried to keep pace with Buggy.

With an apologetic and upset glance, Buggy released her hand before she hurried over to walk side by side with him.

"Buggy, what the hell was that about?!"

"Don't worry about it, we just needed to leave that shithole before I killed someone."

"That hasn't stopped you before!"

"I'll just say I'm feeling generous tonight then." Snarled Buggy, growing more and more enraged as the pair walked.

"We need to go back, we need those canons or we're screwed!"

"We can get the canons somewhere else, we need to go."

"But what was that all about?! Sure, the guy was a douche, but I could have easily just pushed him off with my wings or cut him with my dagger. Why are you being so weird about this?!"

"Because no one fucks with my girl!" Buggy shouted, spinning around to come face to face with (Y/n).

"W-wait, wait... Your girl?..." (Y/n) asked quietly, freezing as the meaning of his words sunk in.

Buggy halted his rant as he turned to fully face her, finally realizing what he had said. Running a palm through his blue locks, he dejectedly shook his head as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Just forget about it, okay?! We have to get back to the ship..." Buggy muttered as he continued to stomp away.

As the blue haired pirate angrily marched down the street, (Y/n) stood frozen on the edge of the town, not knowing how to feel about what her beloved captain had just revealed to her.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #one piece live action #one piece imagine #fanfic

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i-yap · 11 days

Note

Hello, good evening, how is everything there?

I was wondering if you could write something about Dick taking his cute girlfriend [Us] shopping (clothes, shoes, jewelry) and also what it would be like to do grocery shopping with him. I love going to the supermarket, it is one of my favorite activities.

By the way, you are like an angel fallen from heaven, there are so few writing about Dick and the Bat-family in general, I feel like writers who are fans of them are becoming extinct.

I just hope they continue making content with these characters, maybe the fandom will resurface once again.

praying for DC and Warner.

Bro same, Idk why but it feels like the fandom is dying but also batfam content is dying? Like I don't remember the last good batfam show was out ..fingers crossed ig.

Dick grayson x reader- Shopping headcanons

Best batboy to go clothes/fashion shopping . He has great style, can pull off anything, very supportive and all the store ladies are really jealous. He gives genuinely good advice and honestly he is like your personal styler and this point.

i dont think you even need to go shopping cuz he gifts you so many dresses and for home wear- his tshits exist?? why would be need sleepwear? why??

but its fun and I get it , sometimes even the perfect man forgets to buy something for his gf. He does keep track of whatever is about to finish, so idk honestly.

Maybe he drags you to go shopping, let him "spoil you" as if he doesn't do that enough already. Or if there's a gala and the 100 dresses in your closet arent enough?

um dressing room sex? yes sorry but yes. Honestly you probably will get jealous of hot seeing dick but dw if you don't initiate, dick totally will.

Mostly fancy ish stores, but unlike bruce he does shop as excitedly at smaller shows( you can find great deals there and really good fits)

Grocery shopping is so cute, he holds the cart and gets all the important stuff while you run around putting sweets and chocolates and while he might say "20 bags of chocolates may be a bit much sweetie, they'll go bad" he doesn't mean it. He is just teasing, and you know that so you play along with a pretty please and big pleading eyes. Thats all he wanted tbh, that and to pull your cheeks.

On the other hand if you look at a snack but don't buy it because you don't want to be excessive , he puts 5 of each in the basket without you noticing. you just notice when they show up in your cabinets .

Will need you next to him or in his eyeview, don't you dare run too far otherwise he will joke about tying you to him( actually considers it)

Will hold all bags and when you offer, he just gives you his hand and tells you that you have the responsibility to make sure not to drop his hand.

All smiles and excitement. Will want coffee afterward or during and will happily try out now boba places or anything cute you wanna have.

Will die if you guys share a piece of cake in a cute cafe..like that is so fricking cute, sharing a drink and a cake and omg he lives for it.

He genuinely enjoyed shopping with you and out of all batboys he is probably the only one that would enjoy it (maybe tim in certain cases) In the end, he got to spend time, compliment and dote on the love of his life..what more can he ask for?

lowkey wanna do all batboys now..maybe if I get time after the requests..i love grocery shopping too. the big American stores- literally dreamed of them growing up. the first time I went to America I just ran around the grocery shop( thebig ones) with my brother and it was so much fun.

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nathabat · 6 months

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Can you write about how Syzoth and the reader meet and eventually fall in love? Thank you!

oh my god YES ofc anon, this fills my brain w so many thoughts™,,,

✰ content: ## SFW , fluff with light angst (mention of Syzoth's previous family, his loss, Shang Tsung's bullshit no offense baby girl) , probably barely proofread. I speak more casually here because it's a lot of personal hcs LOL. GN!reader, you/your pronouns used.

Syzoth's romance would be THE definition of a slow burn. Meeting him with Cage and the others doesn't really speed that up, but he certainly learns to really appreciate you as a fixture of the group when you help him mourn and wrap his head around his loss. It's really abrupt, so he needs to take his time coping with the knowledge before he even thinks about taking someone else romantically. So he'd value someone with patience and boatloads of empathy. Even if you were a bit awkward when comforting him, he'd manage to find a bit of charm in your ramblings in attempt to soothe his troubled mind.

Of course it's not like you seek him out right off the bat either, so it's a lot of mutual pining as well when yours and his feelings come to light. Syzoth would feel a little guilty, like he's betraying the memory of his lost loved ones by seeking out a human of all things. I like to think Cage plays wingman- and his version of that is forcing as much proximity as possible. Like orchestrating plans just to ditch you two so you're alone for HOURS, and when he comes back he coughs really loudly to announce his presence.

"What? I didn't know what you two love birds would be getting up to while i was gone! Just had to make sure I wasn't walking in on anything scandalous-" (please hit him for me)

Jokes aside, he does really well at teaching Syzoth about "human courtship" and dating culture, and to boost the poor guys confidence. You're like a beacon of pure light and joy to Syzoth, you picked him up when he was down, how could he ever be worthy of you? How could he even repay your kindness at all???

Syzoth does his best at dropping hints after he realizes you've been oblivious to his courting and attempts at wooing you. Turns out, offering you a piece of his roasted swamp creature snack isn't the sweetest gesture- cut him some slack, he's still learning. He'll lay compliments on HEAVY, and he's surprisingly keen to most details of you as a person, but also generally of your appearance. Like if you trimmed an inch off your hair, he compliments how much shinier your hair is after the loss of your split ends. Ignoring the fact that it sounds slightly backhanded

New shirt? He wants to know why you got it. He thinks that certain colour brings out the hues of your eyes! (he thinks that with everything you wear. I think he's just in love with your eyes) New tattoo or piercing? He really wants to take a good long look at it, hear your thoughts and what drove you to such artistic choices, and gushes about how much he adores your self expression.

"It is a beautiful thing, how open you are I mean.. It's like you bare a piece of yourself to the world. I really like it."

He is always so incredibly sincere, flustering the second you also get embarrassed by his words. He isn't a poet, you just make him feel profound and beautiful things.

The first time he properly asks you out, he's nothing short of a nervous wreck. With his clammy hands and shifty eyes, quietly asking if you'd like to accompany him to an Outworld festival. The second he hears a yes from your lips, he's brightening like a star and thanking you. he's not sure why, but he just feels so grateful and lucky for such an opportunity!

Th evening is nothing short of perfect, Syzoth glued to your side like a protective force, his tension easing only when you grasp his hand and point excitedly at some merchant stand that's boasting the cutest trinkets ever. He's smiling wide under his mask as you tug him forward, squeezing your hand gently as his thumb rubs over your knuckles. His heart is melting in his chest when you make him try on a hair pin. His hair is much too short to hold it, and it almost clatters to the ground if you two didn't fumble to catch it- it's a pretty ornament, but he ends up getting you a gorgeous hand crafted necklace.

A beautiful white jade circular pendant held to the chain by a silver frame of koi fish. He thinks it's stunning, even more so as you bite your cheek to contain your excited ramblings as the cold metal grazes the skin of your neck, followed by the warmth of his careful hands as he fastens it in place <3

Maybe you don't kiss on the first date and that's more than okay, because the mere second you had kissed him for the first time, you swore he turned bright red and looked rather faint... It's probably best to ease him into such affectionate gestures.

☄. *. ⋆

#🫧. sfw #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #syzoth #mk reptile #syzoth mk #syzoth mk 1 #syzoth x reader #reptile x reader #mk x reader

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs | Chapter IX: Seven

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter X

Synopsis: As your life comes to an end, someone you never thought you'd see again helps both you and Neteyam navigate your past and future.

Warnings: pure angst, mentions of death, mental illness, addiction, self-injury, no mentions of Y/N, cursing, some fluff, a lot of crying, like too much crying honestly

Word Count: 9,3k words

A/N: The second to last chapter is here, and with it also comes the beginning of the end. I am honestly so sad at the thought of this series finishing, I have spent every minute of my life thinking and living in it, and I am not ready for it to end (wink wink). This chapter was the most emotionally draining piece of writing I have ever done, but I am so happy with the way it turned out. I hope you like it, and that you find some comfort in this story, the way I found comfort in writing it and sharing it with you. I am so so excited about the last chapter, and I will start writing it right away. As always, thank you so much for engaging with my work and for all the support, I loved reading your comments and asks so so much, they make my life honestly. (Pls listen to seven by TS when reading this, I think it will enhance the experience x also jake saying babygirl does things to me ok byee x )

“Please, picture me in the trees, I hit my peak at seven Feet, in the swing over the creek, I was too scared to jump in Please picture me in the weeds, before I learnt civility I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted ...Are there still beautiful things?”

Neteyam left the clearing with so much anger it could be mined as a new energy source. He couldn’t believe this, couldn’t believe you. He was losing you, over and over, and now will lose you permanently. His heart bled so much, he didn’t think he could make it back to the village in the state he was in. He spent the last month of his life, the last month of your life, training you, ignoring his feelings for you, having dinner with another woman, when he should have been loving you, helping you heal and checking in on your human form, that he spent his whole life with and then abandoned for your Avatar. You took everything from him by keeping this a secret. His whole life, his future, the chance at any happiness or hope or trust in loved ones. He would never forgive you for this. You robbed him of everything and your death will bring his own, maybe not physical, but spiritual and emotional.

He didn’t want to go back to the village, couldn’t go back to the village. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear them talking about you, about your death, he couldn’t see them cry and mourn, for the woman he will love as long as his beating heart was still pumping blood, and not die, not collapse due to the overbearing weight of his broken soul. There was only one place he thought to go, only one place he might find any semblance of peace: Vitraya Ramunong, the Tree of Souls.

Norm and the Sullys were still in the tent, discussing ways to get you to accept the consciousness transfer, brainstorming every possible idea, even thinking of literally tying you to a bed and pumping you with the drugs that they knew would buy you, buy them some more time to change your mind. They all jumped at the screech that came from just outside their tent, and Jake got his gun resting by his side and saw the rest of his family arming themselves with bows and knives at the ominous sound. When they made it outside, they were shocked to see your ikran, a beautiful beast, batting her wings aggressively and hissing in their direction.

“What is it, girl?” Jake said, approaching her carefully and petting her head gently. The ikran opened her mouth and took Jake’s hand in hers, which elicited a furious reaction from Neytiri, to which Jake raised his other hand in a calming gesture.

“She’s not hurting me, she’s pulling me away, towards the lab. I think she’s trying to tell us something.”

His heart dropped at the thought of what could your ikran be wanting to show them so ardently, so urgently. He has never seen such behaviour from a banshee, and he realises painfully how much of an imprint you have made on this world, on life all around you. He wishes this world would have made as much of an impact on you, maybe if it had, you wouldn’t want to leave it so soon.

Jake got on the banshee without making the bond, and she immediately took off.

“Take the Ikrans or Pa’li and hurry to the lab, I have a really bad feeling.”

The last thing he saw is his entire family calling for their animals, the hurry and desperation enveloping all of them like a warm, suffocating blanket.

The banshee landed in a small clearing with a river source in the middle of it. It was a beautiful place that Jake has somehow never stumbled through before, but he couldn’t think about it too much when another, more urgent matter caught his eye. A small and fragile frame, motionless on the ground.

“KID!” He jumped from the back of the ikran like it was lava, and ran as quickly as he possibly could, kneeling on the ground next to you. His face immediately went to your masked one, trying to see if he could spot breathing. Two fingers rushed to your throat, looking for a pulse he couldn’t feel.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, don’t do this to me, baby girl. Come on, please.”

He removed your mask and starting giving you CPR, his two hands wrapped around each other in firsts as he rhythmically compressed your chest in the spot right on top of your heart. Thirty compressions, two breaths, thirty compressions, two breaths. He was trying so hard to remain calm and collected, but his mind was screaming with the image of you on the ground, dead or dying, he still didn’t know, alone, and he felt tears pool in his eyes. You have been alone for such a long time, and he was right: he never tried to understand what you must have been going through, how hard this life must have been for you on this planet your body didn’t belong on, with a soul so bright and wild that was continuously tamed by the fury of your own destiny, with which you battled your whole existence. Losing your mum changed you, finding your dad in the woods broke your spirit, and losing Neteyam took away the last shred of happiness you had, and they watched. He watched, unknowing and ignorant. He will never forgive himself if you died here, in his arms.

He was continuing the CPR when his eyes snapped at something moving above his head. Jake stopped the chest compressions at the sight. Atokirina, dozens of them, floating down gently and peacefully until they reached your body, where they settled for a few seconds, before they all took flight again concomitantly. Jake thought that was a good sign, and, in a desperate attempt to add on to Eywa’s efforts, he brought up his fingers together in a fist, and with all his might, hit your unmoving chest, saying a silent prayer in his mind as he did so.

With wide eyes and laboured breaths, Jake saw the small girl he’s known since she was born come back to life with a violent gasp. You immediately started coughing breathlessly, and Jake put your mask back over your face. He pressed a button and allowed you to take a few short, pained breaths. He felt relief wash all over him, but he knew he needed to go; you weren’t breathing properly, and he saw your face slowly turning purple.

“It’s okay, baby girl. You’re going to be okay.”

With very little effort, Jake lifted you from the ground and carried you in his arms, running as fast as he could do without disturbing you even further. He couldn’t help wince as he was looking at your body, so weak and feeble, so different than the one he remembered. How did this happen? How did Norm and Max allow this?

He made it to the lab shortly, and saw the whole family waiting for him there. Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk all let out a shocked gasp at your lifeless form residing in Jake’s arms, but he couldn’t think about that now, he couldn’t worry about anything other than making sure you will survive this.

Norm and Max let him in with their keycards and motioned hurriedly in the direction of the medical ward. He knew where to go, having been there a few times with soldiers who were sick, as well with his own kids when they got illnesses the Tsahik couldn’t cure. He hurried past all the hallways and entered and put you down as gently as he possibly could. Norm and Max burst through the door, getting all sorts of instruments and machines ready that Jake couldn’t name with a gun to his head. He silently got out of the way, and let them do what they did best.

He got out of the room and grabbed Tuk in his arms, holding her tightly when she nuzzled her head in his neck and started silently sobbing.

“What is going on?” Kiri, one of your best friends in the whole world, your sister, asked through shaky breaths and hushed cries.

“Ma 'ite…” Neytiri said softly, hugging her kids close to her chest.

“She’s sick, isn’t she? Like the people in the village?”

“Yes, my sweet child.”

“But those people died.” Tuk said in between high pitched whimpers.

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a knowing, sorrowful look, and tightened their grip on their children.

Neteyam found the Tree of Souls to be deserted, as most Na’vi would be gone hunting or preparing for the upcoming war this time of day, or just taking shelter from the rain that has been pouring for days with no seeming intention of stopping. He knelt on the ground and peered up at the bright pink and purple tendrils of the sacred willow, taking in the beauty that he is yet to get over, even after coming here his whole entire life. A pained cry escaped his lips at the realisation he will never be able to show this to you. From the second he saw your Avatar body, dreams invaded his subconscious mind, dreams of when you would finally become one of the people, dreams of your soft hair bouncing on your beautiful back while you ran beneath the tree, dreams of his finally being able to make you his, the way he has wanted for so long. You were supposed to become one of the people, you were supposed to be his, his mate and the mother of his children, his Tsahik, the best Tsahik this clan had ever seen. How the fuck was he supposed to come to terms with this heartbreak, how was he ever supposed to be the same person again? You were in his life from the moment you were born. You were born just a couple of months apart, as if Eywa couldn’t wait any longer to join two souls who were meant to be. He couldn’t remember a day in his life when you weren’t there - even if not physically, you were always in his life, in his mind, your light forever permeated through every cell in his body. You were the only fact of life he was sure of, how was he supposed to live without you?

“I have another quote that reminds me of you, though.”

Patting the spot next to you, you signalled for him to lie down. He did, although his legs were completely off the bed, the tiny contraption barely able to accommodate his torso. You let out a small laugh, but seemed happy to have him so close.

You placed your head on his chest, and he prayed you couldn’t hear the way his heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest at your proximity and warmth. You opened the book and looked for the quote.

“Ah, there is it.” You cleared your throat, then continued. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

“I like that.” He felt bashful at your admission of how you viewed him. You were always braver than him when it comes to your feelings. You never said them out right, but you always gave enough proof through moments like these, when you would sing a song, or read him a section of a book you thought resonated with you.

“Read more. Is there anything else in that book that reminds you of us?”

You blushed, but flipped through more pages. You have him a knowing look, and read from the book you gripped on so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.”

He couldn’t help think of that quote, and how deeply you both felt for each other, how this world is dull and senseless, meaningless and bleak without the other. “If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger”. He never quite understood the magnitude of this quote until today, when he stared at your dying body, until he was here, kneeling under the Tree of Souls, knowing soon you might not be part of his universe anymore, willing to beg Eywa until his knees bleed for another chance, for one more try.

“Great Mother,” he starts as he reaches for the queue and brings it to one of the tendrils he was softly grasping in his hand, “I need your help. I’m begging you for help.”

His queue wraps around the mauve willow branch and he inhales faintly at the bond, as he is transported across dimensions, to another plane of being, higher than any living thing had access to except in this way.

He woke up in the last place he thought he would, the lab. The damn lab, with its white, too-white walls and a smell that always burned his nostrils and a coldness that he would never get used to, no matter how many days he has spent here in his life. Without you in it, it was unnatural and unwelcoming, and he didn’t want to be here a second longer than he needed to.

“Ma 'itan.” he heard a voice call out to him from inside one of the rooms, and he made his way slowly towards it, feet hurting from the biting temperature of the smooth tiles. He passed a mirror that was hung on one of the walls, and was startled to see himself in it, only it appeared more like a window to the past, as the face looking back at him was young, no older than 10.

He continued on, and eventually reached it. It was dark, except the light from a computer screen and one desk lamp gently illuminating the room. Sat on a chair was a woman, beautiful and elegant, with light curly hair that reached her torso and kind features, that reminded him so much of her daughter, so much so that it made his heart constrict in pain.

“Neteyam, my boy, it’s so good to see you!”

“Auntie Jo?”

“You’ve grown so much, ma 'itan. You’ve become a handsome young man.”

“Auntie Jo, what’s going on? Why am I here?”

“You’ve come to ask for help from the Great Mother. The Great Mother doesn’t take sides, son, you know that. She protects only the balance of life.”

“Yes, and her life hangs in the balance. I need Eywa to help, I need Eywa to save her, because her life has never been balanced. There’s never been anything fair about her life, and this second chance is the balance. It’s what she deserves, a lifetime of happiness to make up for all the hurt the Universe has put her through.”

“I see you are still my daughter’s angel, even after all this time. You always took care of her, from when you were both babies. We used to put you in the same crib and you would go to sleep holding hands. You both used to cry whenever it was time for us to return to the lab. Eventually, we had to give you a piece of clothing of the other, so you could sleep peacefully through the night. I always knew you were supposed to end up together. It’s part of the reason I worked so hard to decode the Avatar for her.”

“She’s dying. She’s dying and there’s nothing I can do! I need you to help me save her, I need to do something, I need something to stop the way it feels like I’m being ripped apart at every seam in my body. I have never known such pain, I never knew it was possible for a body to hurt so badly from a wound that doesn’t even exist.”

The woman rose from the chair and took Neteyam in her arms, allowing him to place his head on her shoulders and cry. Neteyam tightened his arms around her and held her, crying, releasing all the grief he was feeling for his love, for his future, for her.

“If you feel it, son, then it exists. If you feel her, then she exists, and she will exist forever. In truth, there is nothing any of us can do, except love her and be there for her. My daughter has grown so much, and so much grief grew along with her. And she learnt how to let grief grow until it is so big it cannot be contained within her body from me. But there’s still time for her to grow, too. Grow bigger than the grief. She needs you, Neteyam. She needs you to be her light one last time. She needs you right now. You should go before it’s too late.”

Neteyam woke up like from a dream and removed his queue from the tree so quickly it hurt him and he felt the pain travel all the way to the tip of his toes. It didn’t matter, he thought. He could be scalped right now and he would still be calling his ikran with enough might to wake up the entire forest. As soon as she arrived at the foot of the tree, he got on her and motioned for her to take off, no other thoughts than the words your mother uttered echoing in his ears. I need to get to the lab, fuck, I hope I’m not too late. I can’t be too late. It can’t be too late.

He completely spaced out until he reached the lab, so it was like he blinked and he was there. He saw your ikran next to the entrance of the lab and felt his pulse quicken so fast he almost fell off his own with how faint it made him. He knocked on the door forcefully and incessantly until Lo’ak came and opened it. His baby brother’s eyes were red and damp and he looked sick and tired; Neteyam couldn’t remember the last time he has ever seen Lo’ak in this state - he didn’t think he ever had. The lump that formed in Neteyam’s throat stopped him from speaking, and he looked at his brother with desperation laced on every feature, silently pleading to be put out of his misery.

“She collapsed outside the lab. She was in a clearing a few minutes from here. Her ikran came to the village and took dad to where she was, and he brought her here.”

Lo’ak started crying again, bringing a hand to his face to hide himself, and Neteyam took him in his arms and hugged him.

“She was dead, bro. Dad said she was dead. Her heart stopped and he managed to start it back up again, but she has been in the room with Norm and Max for a while, she won’t wake up. She’s been sick for a month and we didn’t know. I didn’t know!”

Neteyam let Lo’ak cry it out, feeling his own hurt being pushed aside at the sight of his baby brother needing a shoulder to cry on. He couldn’t be weak when his family needed him.

Eventually they made their way down the corridor until they reached the rest of their family, and he saw it, saw you, and it immediately made his sick. He’s struggled to keep down whatever food he still had in his system at the terrorising sight - you, lying on a white framed bed, unconscious, with tubes coming in and out of you, so many tubes he was losing count. He saw the tubes coming out of machines that were beeping, and one of them was removing blood from your body and then pushing it back in, and Neteyam felt weak in the knees taking it all in.

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE IV: BARGAINING

You woke up in a daze, feeling heavy and numb, like that one time you were 16 and you took one too many sleeping pills and you needed 3 days to ride out the consequences. You frowned deeply at the bright artificial lights that were bearing down on you, and you realised you were in the medical ward of the hub. You faintly heard the ECG machine beeping, and you knew at least you weren’t dead yet. You don’t know how much time it’s been, the last thing you remember is Neteyam turning his back on you in the clearing.

“You’re a coward…”

You felt your heart hurt, although the pain was not physical, it wasn’t an arrhythmia or fibrillation or asystole, it was worse. It was a kind of pain you can’t fix with some pills or a defibrillator or some epinephrine to restart the heart. It didn’t work that way. This pain you would have to ride out, have to hope it will pass in time.

He was right. You were a coward, have been your whole life. There was no point denying it any longer, no point hiding behind a facade of eye rolls and straight faces. You killed yourself slowly and painfully, for years - taking pills, taking too many pills, ignoring the pleas from your mind that told you it was slowly losing focus, that couldn’t handle pain as well anymore, that couldn’t sleep unless it was practically mush by the time your head hit the pillow. You told yourself it was unfortunate that you got the virus, that you hated it and that you were working for cure, but in reality you were kind of relieved when it happened. Because now you had an excuse, and you didn’t have to do any of the heavy lifting yourself.

You were a coward, refusing to get help or let yourself be loved, let yourself be mourned, because you didn’t want to deal with it. You refused to tell Neteyam, the man who has loved you and been your rock your whole life, who, despite everything that went on between you, would always be yours, and who you knew would suffer immensely because of your passing, because you didn’t want to suffer with him. You didn’t tell Norm and Max, because you knew they would make you get help, and try to get you to heal and stay alive longer, and you didn’t want that. You didn’t tell Jake or Neytiri, or the kids, because no parent or sibling should have to watch their kid, their sister die, and you thought by pushing them away and blaming them for Neteyam’s indiscretion, you would be able to soften the blow. But most of all, you didn’t tell them because you didn’t want to know that people do love you, would suffer because of you, that your death impacted lives around you. You didn’t need the guilt.

Nobody was paying attention to you, you realised. You briefly saw Norm and Max hurrying around you out of the corner of your eye, and saw a dialysis machine retrieving your blood through a tube coming from your neck. You were going into multiple organ failure, you deduced. Your heart and lungs were shot, your kidneys were shot, you didn’t have much time left.

You wanted to speak, you wanted to scream for Neteyam, for all of them, and apologise. You knew what it meant to lose people, better than most. You were sorry for knowing you will put these people you loved so much through so much pain. You were sorry things turned out like this, that you weren’t stronger, that your heart was so broken it found comfort in the pain and was too scared to heal. The tube coming out of your mouth didn’t allow for that. You felt tears falling from your eyes and then slowly the heaviness taking over, pushing your eyelids shut, and the last thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of a flatline, and screams all around you.

You woke up dazed, needing a few second to take in your surroundings. You had no idea where you were, it isn’t a place you have ever seen before. You looked, trying to accommodate to the light shining brightly from an orb in the sky, and when you couldn’t see Polyphemus and its moons in the sky, you knew you were no longer on Pandora. It took a while, but you eventually realised you were on Earth. You turned around, taking in all of your surroundings, and felt amazed at the unfamiliar new sights. In front of you stood a house. On the smaller side (you thought, based on all the Hollywood movies you’ve seen), with a blue paintcoat and surrounded by a short brown fence, it had flowers you were fascinated by and shrubbery surrounding it, giving it an unkept look - you loved it. It was not like the houses you have seen in the movies, perfect and artificial, with human precision to ruin what Mother Earth put there for a reason. Behind you were paved roads, but nobody was around. There were no other houses, the one in front of you solitary and quiet, except for a rhythmic sound you could hear from somewhere behind it, although you could not place it, as the house was on a little hill.

You made your way towards the entrance quietly, and were pleasantly surprised when the little fence opened at your slightest push, so you continued through the cobblestone path, until you were standing face to face with a white door. You felt yourself curiously knocking on it, hoping someone could let you in and explain to you what was going on, why were you here, what was this place? Was this the afterlife? Were you in heaven?

After waiting a few minutes at the door with no answer, you touched the handle and pressed gently, surprised again when it opened to you. You felt a strange smell envelop you, it was a completely new olfactory experience than you have ever had, and you realised you loved it - it was a rich and warm smell, and you had to swallow as it seemed to trigger hunger in your system. The room you were in was a little claustrophobic, but you couldn’t help thinking if was homely and snug and felt a strange familiarity as you walked through the dimly lit narrow hallway. Right by the entrance to the right was a brighter, doorless room that probably served as a library once - the walls were covered in thick mahogany shelves filled to the brim with colourful books, and a beautiful dark brown desk was placed in the middle of it, with a fuzzy looking carpet adorning the wooden floors. Further in the hallway, frames with photos of people you couldn’t really place were decorating the blue walls and you smiled taking them all in. A photo of 3 people at the beach, a family, you noted, a photo in a beautiful location somewhere in the mountains, a photo of a dad carrying a small girl on his back, both of them laughing widely - all so beautiful, so intimate. On one of the images was scribbled something that caught your attention. It was an image of a girl, young and beautiful, with light and wavy hair and holding what you knew from movies to be a graduation gown, throwing her cap in the air. The handwritten note on it said “Our little Marj graduating summa cum laude at only 18! - Johns Hopkins, June 2123.”

Shocked, you removed the frame from the wall and looked at it closer. Your mum. This was your mum’s house, the house she grew up in as a child. What were you doing here? What was happening to you? You held on to the picture as you moved through the house that eventually opened into a big and brightly lit room, that served as both the kitchen and the living room. In the corner of the room lay a beautiful grand piano and a few guitars, all on stands. Through the big windows and the door that opened to the backyard, you saw a large body of water, and you realised the noises you were hearing earlier were waves, crashing on the sandy beach. You have never seen anything like it and couldn’t help stare for a while, just taking in the beauty of this world you never thought you would be able to experience for yourself. You found yourself picking up one of the guitars on the stand that you knew was your mum’s, since it was the same one you have…. had on Pandora, and opened the door to the outside, slowly walking towards the open sea.

You frowned as you made your way through the fine warm sand at all these new experiences and sensations you have never had before, and the frown deepened at a blanket on the ground, almost inviting you to sit down, almost as if it was laid out for you. Feeling safe and blissful in this new world you now inhabited, you allowed yourself to do as you were silently bid.

You loved the malleable feeling of the sand as you stretched your legs and noticed it moved to accommodate your body. The blanket was soft, and you felt inspired to pick up the guitar and tune it, strumming it gently. You couldn’t believe what was happening to you, the fact that you were here, on Earth, in your mum’s childhood home. You didn’t know what to think, but you thought that if this is death, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“My love.”

That voice. Your breathing and hands both stopped to bring you to a dead still. Your eyes immediately filled with tears that spilled like effortless waterfalls, a visceral reaction to a voice you never thought you’d ever hear again. Your head snapped in the direction of the voice so quickly it gave you whiplash, but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered in this life but this voice.

“Mum??” You got up to your feet as rapidly as your human body could handle and ran in the arms of the woman you loved more than anything in this world, more than life itself. You were sobbing as you removed yourself form her arms, touching her face with your hands, touching her arms, making sure she was real, that she was here.

“Oh my God, baby, it’s ok, I’m right here.”

She was trying to calm you down enough so you could utter a word, but you couldn’t, you couldn’t stop wailing, couldn’t stop your body expelling so many tears you completely soaked the top of her t-shirt.

Slowly, she moved you to where you were sat just a few minutes ago, and you were a blubbering mess, unable to utter a single syllable to this woman you have spoken enough to fill out novels in your dreams, in your thoughts, in your soul.

“You’re alright, my love. Everything’s alright.” She was removing tears as they fell from your eyes with her palm, gently cupping your face and smiling at you, with enough warmth you knew it could power up this whole world if she let it.

Eventually, you found your voice. “Mum, what is this? How are you here? Am I dead?”

She laughed at your barrage of questioning, remembering fondly how you have always been such a curious cat, always had so many questions for her, relentless in your quest for knowledge.

“You’re with Eywa, my love. We’re with Eywa. And no, you are not dead yet.”

“Yet?”

“Yes, baby. It seems Eywa is not quite done with you yet.”

“What does the Great Mother want from me?”

“I think she wants you to make a choice, baby.”

“I’ve already made my choice.”

“I don’t think you have, my love.”

You thought about her words for a while. You thought you made your choice. I mean, you were here, weren’t you? Dead. Or in purgatory, one of the two, but still, not alive. You thought about your life. About your beautiful mother sitting in front of you, and the moment she gave her last breath to the world. Her funeral, rain pouring over you like the endless sorrow that hasn’t left you since. You thought about how hard it was to sleep at night, how the nightmares never stopped, how the sadness became a confidant you knew you could never shake - you knew you didn’t want to shake. You thought about your dad - the guilt you felt because of him, his actions, his murders, how they haunted you in dark corridors, how the Na’vi people cursed you in your dreams and told you you were a demon, just like he was. You thought about his body in the woods, his exo-suit that he left a few steps behind, and how you couldn’t walk barefoot after that. You thought about the pills, your only friends, the only cure for your debilitating insomnia. You thought about your sleep paralysis demons, crawling on top of you and sitting on your chest until you couldn’t breathe anymore, watching you scream and laughing at you mockingly, how they always looked like you, how they were just a dark, cursed version of yourself, the you you knew you looked like in your soul. You thought about Neteyam leaving - the last straw, the one that left you irreparably broken, the one that skinned you alive and left you for dead.

You thought you made your choice.

“I miss you, ma. So much.” The crying never stopped, but you held her hand and tried to revel in the feeling, in knowing she was here and you were with her. Even if you weren’t sure about your choice before, you were when you looked into her bright and caring eyes. “I just found you, I can’t lose you again.”

“I miss you, too, bunny. I have kept an eye on you for almost 9 years, everyday regretting not fighting harder to be in your life.”

You frowned at her words. “You fought hard, ma. Your death was a tragedy, but it was unavoidable.”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean maybe?”

“I mean I fell in the same bad patterns as you did, bunny. I could have asked Mo’at for the transfer, but I didn’t. Just like you didn’t. It hurts me so much to see you make the same mistakes as I did. I love you so much, and I wish I could have healed enough in life to not bestow on you this grief. I wish I could have been braver and stronger, I wish I could have asked for help when I felt like the world was caving in on itself on top of me. Maybe if I did, then you wouldn’t be here.

When your dad died, most of me died along with him. Having to have and raise you by myself was the toughest thing I have ever had to brave. And I’d like to think I did a good job, and it was easy enough, because you were the best baby anyone’s ever had, but inside I was screaming. Every night was hell and I struggled with surviving for the rest of my life. When the cancer came, I was terrified to leave you, I was terrified of knowing you would have to be in this world alone, but selfishly, I was relieved. Because the hurt would finally stop. Mo’at, Jake, Neytiri, Norm, Max, everyone tried to get me to accept the consciousness transfer, but I didn’t. Because it was my consciousness that was killing me slowly. A new body wasn’t going to change that.”

You were reeling at the confession, finding it hard to keep breathing, hard to keep going, even in death. Was there no peace? Were you never going to be at peace? You felt so sad at her words, so angry at her admitting she didn’t let you in, that she abandoned you without fighting as hard as she possibly could to heal, to stay alive for you. She lied about being happy, about you being everything she ever needed, she died without even trying the consciousness transfer. How could she ever d-

You gasped in shock at the realisation.

“What, was I supposed to find you dead one day and that was it? That was what I deserved from you, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you? You said I took your choice away. You wouldn’t have even given me a choice to say goodbye to the love of my life before you fucking died!”

“You had a choice. You could have come to the many people who love you, love you unconditionally, and told us, and let us in, and let us help you. You could have gotten help, taken the pills, fight your damn hardest to make this work, to find a cure, for the life your mum gave you, the life she would have to watch you throw away. You have a choice now. To want to live, to want to fight through this and come out the other side a new, better person. To let me love you, let people love you. To do the consciousness transfer and be with me, and be happy, forever. And you’re choosing this.“

“Baby, are you still with me?”

All of a sudden, all new thoughts entered your mind from the ones before. You thought you made your choice. But then you thought about Pandora, the beautiful world you loved so much, that despite not being born for, you climbed its trees and ran its grounds like you had. You thought about how happy laying on the grass made you, just feeling how each blade tickled your skin and brought a laughter that was so pure, so unassuming - so real. You thought about your guitar, and the guitar Neteyam gave you, and the peace you felt when you played them, when you sang your feelings, like a litany to cleanse your soul.

You thought about Kiri - your beautiful sister who you scoured the woods with, finding rocks and flowers and watching her crafting necklaces while the light shone brightly on your faces. You thought about Lo’ak. Your movie marathons, the endless laughter and the warmth he brought to your soul, that felt forever childlike when around him. You thought about Spider, the monkey boy who was the only one who could truly understand what you were going through as a human child growing on a different planet.

You thought about Norm and Max, how they raised you without ever asking for anything in return, how they kept you in their lab and bestowed upon you all of their knowledge and skill and the look they gave you whenever you put anything they taught you to good use. You thought about Jake and Neytiri, your surrogate parents that you always pushed away, and they always came back, loving you unconditionally despite all your emotional shortcomings. You thought about Tuk, how she looked at you like you were the most amazing sister she had, how you used to be the only one who could put her to sleep when she was a fussy infant, how she loved your voice and clung to your every word.

You thought about your mum, who despite being gone for almost a decade, you still felt in you every day, whenever you touched a book you know she loved, whenever you were in the lab, whenever you looked in the mirror and the eyes that greeted you might as well be hers. Finally, you thought about Neteyam. The person you loved more than life itself, more than the sun and the moon, more than every star in the sky. The person who has been here all your life, who stood by you no matter what, who only left so you didn’t have to suffer further. You thought about his smile, his eyes which were like the lighthouse that would always guide you home, his touch that brought life back into you, his love for you, that shone bright and eternal.

You realised then you weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of those things, you wanted more, needed more. You wanted to know what it was like to live, fully live, you wanted to know what it felt like to have a proper family, you wanted to give yourself fully to the man you loved, you wanted to know if your kids would have your mum’s eyes and their dad’s kindness and patience. You wanted to experience Pandora’s sky with Neyn, and you wanted to find a cure for the virus that killed you. You wanted to help the Na’vi fight the Sky People, and you wanted to show them there are good humans out there, and you come from one, and are one. You needed more time.

You were crying so hard you felt your hand going and grasping at your heart, trying to somehow claw through your chest and grasp it in your palms and hold it, trying to stop it from hurting. “I need to go back. I have to go back, I need more time.”

As soon as you said that, you heard a sound coming from the sky, almost like far away thunder. You didn’t know what it was, but you didn’t have time to think about it.

“Ma, I have to go back. I have to make it right. I’m not ready, mum. I’m not ready to go yet.”

“I know, baby. It seems you finally made your choice.”

You saw far into the distance, and saw the edges of the world dissipate slowly, leaving behind a white glow in their wake. You knew what was coming, you knew the one thing you still had to do before it happened.

“Mum, I forgive you. I’m so sorry life took so much from you and I am sorry I couldn’t help more. I’m sorry you had to hurt alone. I love you so much, I will always love you. You will always be a part of me. I forgive you.”

You saw your beautiful mum take a deep breath in, and her body started glowing with the same glow that was gently overtaking the world.

“I have roamed this world for almost 10 years, unable to move on. I am finally free, my love. I can rest now. Thank you.”

Before she would inevitably leave you again, you needed to know one more thing.

“Mum, was my dad evil?”

“Oh, baby. Your dad was a beautiful soul, and although he had many flaws, he was not evil. When you are ready to open your bottom desk drawer, make sure you look around you as well. All will be revealed in time, my love. And listen to Kiri more when she talks to you about plants, you might be surprised what could come of it.” She smiled kindly and gave you a mischievous wink, and with that, she vanished.

“MUM!” You screamed, anguished at losing her again.

You heard her voice echo in the sky.

“Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

You smiled through tears at the poem she used to read you at least once a week when you were a baby. Once it was done, her voice was replaced with another, and you realised what the previous sounds in the sky were. The only voice in the world that mattered.

“Atan! Please come back, please come back. You can’t leave me, please!”

I’m coming, my light.

“Push another round of Epi.”

Neteyam watched as the two humans were working tirelessly to try to bring you back to life. He thought he knew what pain was, what grief and sorrow were, but realised he didn’t - not until the last 30 minutes, as he saw you die in front of him, not until he saw your body being electrocuted and needles going in your heart, not until not any of this torture worked, not until you were still dead, not until his worst fear in life materialised like a bad magic trick.

“We’ve been doing this for too long, Norm. Even if she comes back now, her brain was without oxygen for 30 minutes and I-“

“Just fucking do it, Max!”

Neteyam saw Norm get the machine with the two pads that shocked your body ready again, and he felt himself hope, just a little hope, for the last time. He heard himself talk over the noise, over the constant flat tone of the machine that was connected to your heart.

“Atan! Please come back, please come back. You can’t leave me, please!”

Norm put the pads on your body as soon as Max injected you with what they called Epi.

“CLEAR!” He screamed and pressed the handles of the pads, and your body convulsed violently at the shock they administered.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The room went completely quiet. He saw Norm and Max look at you with mouths agape and then look at each other. Then they started crying.

“We have sinus rhythm.”

Neteyam felt his heartbeat thump in his chest, felt dizzy and confused. The beeping was different than the tone he heard before. Why were they crying? He turned around to face his family and noticed them hugging, and laughing wildly, screaming and crying at the sight, and he let himself believe, for a second, that this was not bad news.

“What is sinus rhythm?” He said, voice hoarse from the amount of crying he had lived through.

“She’s alive.” Norm says through panted breaths and muted tears.

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

It felt like Neteyam took his first breath, like he was born again. They say every Na’vi is born twice, and although the second one was technically when he became a man, he would argue the second time was right now. Those words brought him back to life, in an instant and he felt like he could finally breathe. He could finally live.

“Neteyam”, Max puts a hand on his shoulder, “She’s been dead for 30 minutes. She is alive, but we don’t know what state she will be in when and if she wakes.”

No, you will be fine. He had no doubt in his mind anymore. Eywa has spoken. Eywa brought you back for a reason.

Hours passed, and you didn’t wake. The two scientists gave you pills and liquids that were going in you through various tubes in your body. Neteyam was tortured at the sight, but was consoled with knowing these were keeping you alive. Eventually, they left you to rest, not being able to do anything more until you would wake up… if you woke up. His parents and siblings, and Spider also left, not too far, as they decided to sleep in the hub. Neteyam stood by your side the whole time. He held your hand which felt so small in his much bigger one, and found himself tracing every hair, blemish and vein on your arm. His gaze then shifted onto your face, which looked peaceful, a deep contrast to the one he saw just half a day ago, although it felt like a different life ago. Your beautiful lips were slightly parted as you were breathing with the help with a transparent mask that covered half your face. Your cheeks had a rosy tint to it, and were marked by shadows given by your eyelashes that were resting on them. Your forehead was finally free of the scowl or frown that seemed to plague it most days, giving you a serene look about you. Angel.

Neteyam’s gaze fell around the room, taking in all the equipment that was required to keep you alive. He learned that the beeping machine was called an electrocardiogram, and through the little sensors on your chest, it could feel your heartbeat. He learned that the machine that was pumping your blood was called a dialysis machine, and it was helping you clear your blood of waste since your body couldn’t do that by itself anymore. He learned the mask was helping you breathe, since you body couldn’t that by itself either. He was eternally grateful to these machines, and the men wielding them, for the part they were playing in you not being taken away from him. He has never liked humans, but more and more, he could understand their beauty, and that, in their own way, they were just doing their best - isn’t that the only thing one can hope for?

Neteyam was pulled out of his musings by the tiniest movement of your hand that was rested in his. He immediately snapped his eyes to your hand, and gasped loudly when you moved again - just a small twitch, nothing more, but it was enough to electrify his entire body, deep shockwaves running through him from where you touched him to each extremity. His gaze shifted on to your face, and his breath stopped when his eyes met yours. You looked tired, so tired, but alive. Your eyes crinkled at the sides as you gave him a smile, and his world shifted on its axis, never to be the same again. Your hand slowly and shakily made its way to the mask rested on your face, and you pulled on it until it came off, looking like the movement hurt, like it took all the effort you had. He could see your smile properly now, the most beautiful sight he has ever laid his eyes on - this world, the sky, this entire universe could not hold a candle to this smile.

“Hi.” You said through shallow panted breaths.

Neteyam cried, his tears flowing freely, the weight of this day bearing down on him heavily, even as he was watching you, feeling you, seeing you alive. He smiled as he brought his big hand to your face, and cupped it as gently as he knew how. You put your hand over his slowly and deliberately, and continued smiling even with the tears that were making their way down your cheeks and into your smile.

“Hi.” That’s all he could say, and he knew it was enough.

It was insane - the thought of having to leave your side for even the split of a second, but he knew his family would never forgive him if he didn’t tell them you were awake. So he went, running through the corridors of the labs and hub, trying to find his way, screaming for them at the top of his lungs, hoping he wouldn’t have to waste time searching. Eventually, they came out panicked, praying they won’t have to hear the worst. They were exalted when that wasn’t the case, and Neteyam saw his three younger siblings, as well as his honorary brother, run as fast as the lab allowed towards the room you were in. He followed suit, sending a glowing, relieved, happy smile towards their parents, which they returned with the same enthusiasm. Norm and Max were already in the room when they arrived, alerted by all the commotion. They were checking in on you, adjusted medicines and slowly removing the mask from around your face.

You were in a lot of pain, that you could feel even with the morphine you knew was supposed to keep your body nice and numb, although you suspected you were the reason it wasn’t working as well as it should. You felt every breath, every heartbeat, like it was a shot to the chest, but you didn’t complain, and stood there as your two favourite humans were working hard trying to make sure you were going to be alive for longer than a few minutes this time. You felt an immense sense of gratitude at their help and their incessant need to keep you safe and healthy, despite how horribly you treated both of them. You hoped you can earn their forgiveness in time. In time… you smiled softly at the thought. You had time.

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE V: ACCEPTANCE

You were startled at all the sounds and voices coming from the corridors, and you jumped out of your skin when you saw four figures rushing towards you smiling and crying, laughing at you and approaching your body and the bed without concern for all the equipment or the tubes, or Norm and Max. You tried laughing at the endearing sight, but could only manage a forced exhale.

“You’re alive!” Tuk’s soft sobs brought you to tears again, all the events of the last few days quickly taking a toll on your already jagged body.

You nodded softly at her, giving her the biggest smile you could muster. You looked up at Lo’ak and Kiri and felt them taking each of your hand in theirs and tugging at them, holding you with whatever they could without inconveniencing you too much. Lo’ak was tugging at the IV going in your vein, making it hurt, but you couldn’t care less. You were so happy to see him, see them, so happy they found it in their infinite hearts to forgive you. You didn’t know how you still had enough fluid in you to produce even more tears, but there they were, falling again.

Neteyam walked into the room with his parents, who both brought their hands to their face at the sight of you, and looked at you with so much love your heart tugged painfully. You couldn’t speak, there were no words to convey the love and appreciation you had for them, for this family you gained, the family you would never leave again. Instead, you weakly, with all the power you had, brought your curled finger to your forehead and motioned towards them. I see you, I’m sorry. I see you.

Neytiri let out a cry and approach your legs, which she grabbed with her hands and held them softly, giving you a small squeeze.

Neteyam made his way to your side again, and pushed Lo’ak out of the way so he could be close to you, and took your hand in his again, holding to you tightly. You have never seen him like this, so possessive, so desperate to hold you, and you thought you would probably be the same if you watched him die in front of you. You brought his hand to your lips slowly and kissed it. Thank you.

You would have a lifetime to catch up and tell them everything you have wanted to say out loud your whole life but were too afraid to, but in order to do that, you had one thing to do first. You turned your attention to Kiri, who was still holding on to the arm Neteyam wasn’t.

Finally, you found your voice. It was raw and guttural, and cracked every other word, but it was there. You would learn to use it again in time.

“What do you say you and me kill this virus, forever?”

Passed down like folk songs, Our love lasts so long

Tag list (thank you thank you thank you x): @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @inomoikawa @jackiehollanderr @jaysarchiv3 @meivap @dakotali @hlhl99 @eskamybeloved @erenjaegerwifee @winchestertitties @mommyneytiri @ultimatebluff @elizarikaallen @yeosxxx @ssc7514 @lolcaca @jackiehollanderr @bunnyrose01 @therealbloom @neteyams-queue @ @r1dd1kulus

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maniculum · 6 months

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Bestiaryposting Results -- Gligglae

Sorry this is later than usual; traveling for the holidays makes it difficult to keep up with this sort of thing. The smart move would have been to write it up a couple days ahead of time, then on Monday just update it with anything new that had been posted since, but see, what happened was that I did not do that. Instead, I tried to type this up Monday evening in between various family obligations, realized I didn't have time to do it properly, and just shoved it in my drafts. Then all of Tuesday was taken up with the long drive back home from where my family lives, and now you're getting it on Wednesday.

(Also, don't worry, I followed all CDC guidelines appropriate for someone who had recently had covid, and wouldn't have traveled for the holidays at all if I hadn't been without a fever for 48 hours prior to departing. Plus I drove instead of flying, didn't visit anyone but immediate family, and had a mask the whole time, so even if I am still contagious somehow, exposure was pretty minimal.)

Anyway, the entry that our artists are working from is here:

And, of course, all previous material on this matter can be found at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

I think a larger number of people than usual identified the animal in question right off the proverbial bat, because this one has some pretty blatant tells, but as always I appreciate everyone trying to put it out of their minds.

So, anyway, in rough chronological order:

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) (thank you for providing your own alt text, I really appreciate it) brings us her usual impeccably medieval-stylized rendition -- the swirls and curves in this one give it a really interesting vibe, I think. We can see the Gligglae in full-body profile on the left there, and a group of them doing their cluster behavior on the right. The, like, griffin/cockatrice/vampire look is pretty great, also. I enjoy the overall design, which you can find some discussion of in the linked post. Gold foil also a nice touch.

Coolest-capybara also notes that the entry is very interested in the ways in which the creature is "almost, but not quite, entirely unlike a bird," and I can explain why that is. It is because this entry is in the Bird section of the bestiary, so officially this is a bird -- I mean, it flies, what else can it be -- but it's sufficiently un-bird-like that it really sticks out to the authors, so they need to explain the ways in which it's Doing Bird Wrong. Everything else in this section does X, so we need to point out that this one does Y, kind of thing.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has drawn an absolutely adorable little Gligglae. (Adorable if you have my sense of aesthetics, that is -- I suspect if you're among the portion of the population that finds aye-ayes more creepy-looking than cute, that might apply here as well.) There's an explanation of design decisions in the linked post, including a number of references to real animals that provided inspiration. I like the decision to play up the "lowly" and "mean" part of the description by making it small and kind of scruffy. And the general concept of blending "gliding rodent" with "nocturnal primate" to make an arboreal mammal with elements of both really worked out well here, in my opinion.

@aethereaii (link to post here) has done this beautiful piece in a style that kind of gives "19th-century naturalist" vibes. (Actually, it makes me think of James Gurney, but I suspect that association says more about my childhood reading habits than anything else.) This is a great design in my opinion, and you can find some brief discussion on design decisions as well as an earlier version of the Gligglae in the linked post. The earlier design is also very good, but I agree with Aethereaii that this one is a step up, particularly with the Anomalocaris-inspired faux-wings. I also really like the inclusion of the juvenile Gligglae (Gligglings?) clinging to their parent's back in the corner there.

@karthara (link to post here) decided to go in a reptilian direction with this one, which (a) works well and (b) caused me to spend a chunk of time reading about flying snakes on Wikipedia just now. So in this version, the "rowing motion with its skin" is a description of the Gligglae flaring its ribs and undulating through the air -- which I genuinely think really makes sense. The entry seems to legitimately disagree with itself about whether this critter has wings (or, taking it entirely literally, it has wings but flies through a completely separate method that specifically does not involve said wings, which I think we're justified in deciding is Wrong), so I think going with such a non-wing-like flight method works here. Also like the concept of making these very cuddly (and apparently loving, according to our bestiary author) creatures into a type of animal that usually isn't seen that way. The linked post also contains some brief notes on design decisions.

@strixcattus (link to post here) has, as per usual, provided a really excellent modern-naturalistic description of the creature they've designed in the linked post, and you should definitely go check it out right now. I'll wait.

... back? Okay good. I particularly like their interpretation of the "grape-cluster" behavior as a social group that's specifically not a kin group; and also the fact that said group is officially referred to as a "cuddle". The choice to make it a whole genus and show us several different wild and domesticated species, also very good, love it. As with several of these drawings, Strixcattus's Gligglae (Gligglaes?) are extremely cute -- which, really, does also fit the description provided in the entry. They're like tadpoles crossed with sugar gliders.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) credits Ken Sugimori's Pokemon illustrations as a stylistic inspiration, which I suppose explains why the Gligglae cluster seems to be hanging from a Sudowoodo. The linked post also draws certain parallels between medieval bestiaries and the Pokedex, which I think is actually pretty insightful. There's also a breakdown of their design decisions there, go read it. I think this is a pretty good rendering of something that is like a flying squirrel but distinctly not a flying squirrel, and I like the shaggy look of the fur.

Also, thank you for providing your own alt text.

@pomrania (link to post here) is, I think, the only person to take the bestiary author at their word that this animal has wings but flies through some other, non-wing-related method. You can see the tiny useless wings at the shoulder there. I really think that's fascinating as a concept: what evolutionary pressures would produce an animal that (a) has wings and (b) flies but (c) those two things are unrelated? Although this many appendages on a fur-bearing creature puts us firmly in the "alien biology" territory, so maybe it's silly to expect it to make sense by the standards of terrestrial biology. Regardless, I like it, and I think the decision to run with the "rowing" description by giving it those oar-shaped appendages is a good & creative one. The post linked above contains a fair bit of information on design decisions and the drawing process here -- there are sketches and everything.

@vindikat (link to post here) has interpreted this in a way I find really charming. The art is of course excellent, very well drawn, and I appreciate the effort that went into doing these different poses. However, I really like it from a worldbuilding perspective: this gives me the impression of a small species of griffin that's adapted to urban living, more pigeon/cat than eagle/lion. (Come to think, both pigeons and cats are examples of feral populations finding a successful niche, rather than wild ones that adapt to a city, so maybe we can speculate that these guys are also descended from domestic ancestors.) Also the Gligglae under the eaves there remind me of pictures of chimney swifts that have made the rounds on Tumblr.

The design is also generally very appealing; I think the extra wings and the long tail really work here. The linked post includes an explanation of the design decisions that I think is worth taking a look at.

@moustawott (link to post here) has given us another very cuddly version of the Gligglae. I particularly like the wing design here, how it's kind of a mammalian version of a pterosaur -- Moustawott indicates that they were specifically trying not to draw the animal that they're sure this is, and I think the pterosaur-squirrel design here is a great way to make something that could fill kind of the same niche while being an unmistakably distinct creature. The little round head and eye markings remind me of a chipmunk, also, which is cute.

@rautavaara (link to post here) continues to do interesting stylistic stuff with their contributions. I like how the limited color palette here makes this look kind of like a single-block woodcut or similar relief printing. Like, you could plausibly see this as a design someone's carved into a wood block, then printed on mustard-yellow paper with purple ink. (I'm actually not 100% sure that's not what it is; I would just be surprised if someone actually went the extra mile of breaking out the engraving tools for my little bestiaryposting thing.) Very dynamic scene, also, and a charming creature design; love the huge mouths with pointy little fangs.

All right, these are all the ones that come up on the search; if I missed yours, let me know please.

(I have to apologize here for another delay that's absolutely my fault -- I would have had this out a few hours ago, but I got derailed by impulsively deciding to check out that Hbomberguy plagiarism video everyone's talking out, and... yeah.)

Anyway, as a number of this week's artists indicated, this one was really easy to guess, so the reveal seems a little pointless, but we have a format, so:

Obviously, this was the sheep.

What? Look, you can't make assumptions with these things. Some of these medieval bestiary entries are really counterintuitive. Medieval Europeans believed there was a species of small, highly-social, flying nocturnal sheep native to Ethiopia.

Really, it's in Pliny the Elder.

...

Yes, fine, I'm just lying to you for fun. It's the animal you all think it is, there are no flying sheep to my knowledge. Here's the Aberdeen Bestiary illustration.

Yep, it's the bat. Oddly human face on that one, and generally I don't think this was drawn from life, but it's definitely a bat.

I do kind of find the way it's described in this entry kind of interesting, though. The confusion about whether bats count as having wings (even after having been placed in the "bird" category) is kind of odd, and the "rowing" description is not one I would have ever thought of. I very much like the declaration that the way bats huddle together is "an act of love of a sort which is difficult to find among men"; it's a sweet way to talk about a creature with a generally negative reputation, which contrasts interestingly with the fact that the author also thinks of them as "lowly" and "mean". You kind of get the idea of a creature that's a bit wretched but in a sympathetic way. "Scrungly", one might say.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #gligglae

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roanniom · 2 years

Note

just thinking about being soft with steve… taking our time and lots of praise and gentle touches 🥺

The Apartment

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, piv sex, unprotected sex, praise, discussion of financial insecurity (you and Steve have moved in together and it’s rough going starting out), fluffy sweetness that I don’t usually write

Stevie boy who is used to being the big bad school athlete. The big bad ladies man. The big bad babysitter. He’s used to having to be the one giving encouragement and praise. So you like reciprocating whenever you can.

It’s a Sunday night and you’ve got nowhere to be. The two of you have had a quiet evening in at your new apartment. You still haven’t gotten much, so you ate pasta in the empty living room sitting on moving boxes. But you’d lit a candle you’d dug out of one of the boxes and the two of you had split a bottle of cheap wine and had one of the best meals of your lives.

Now you’re both in bed, one of the few pieces of furniture you two had been able to afford so far (Steve moving out of his parents’ house hadn’t been easy). He’d made you cum already with his mouth, the gentleman that he is, so now you’re on top of him, rolling your hips slowly.

“Mmm you feel so good, Stevie,” you whisper, leaning down and peppering his face, his jaw, his neck with kisses.

“No you do -,” he tries to argue but you place a finger over his lips.

“Shhh let me tell you how good you make me feel.” You speak between kisses, laving your tongue against his skin after sucking on it. “How deep you are in me. How sexy you are.”

You nip at his earlobe after the last statement and he lets out a strangled chuckle.

“Says the sexiest woman ever.”

“I’ll allow the counter compliment,” you chuckle yourself. Your hand smooths up and down the side of his neck, moving down to play with the hair on his chest. “You’re too good to me.”

“You deserve the best,” he groans earnestly. You’ve begun to move up and down on his cock a little quicker now, and the pleasure has his brow furrowing. “I…I’m sorry I can’t give you the best yet.”

You know that he’s thinking about your stark living situations. Of his long hours at Family Video and his second job coaching kids at the batting cages to try and earn a little extra. Of the fact that you’ve been eating out of Tupperware and taking the bus a few times a week to save on gas.

But you’re thinking about the way he wakes you up every morning with kisses and coffee. The way he picks things you don’t like out of your takeout when restaurants get the order wrong. The way he dances with you in the kitchen while you wait for the pasta water to boil. The way he organizes nights with your shared friend group when you’re feeling down.

They way he takes his time with you. The way he touches you. The way he whispers beautiful things in your ear while his hands do beautiful things to your body.

“You give me the best every day, Stevie,” you whisper, humor gone from your voice. Your hands find his and you roll your hips harder, sinking down on him in a way that has his eyelids fluttering and his abdomen clenching. “Everything I could ever want.”

“I love you,” Steve moans out, his hands flying from yours to grip your hips as he nears his climax. It’s sickly sweet and you can’t help grinning down at him.

“Love you, too, Stevie.”

When he cums, he cums inside you for the first time. He clings to you, face buried in your neck, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to pull out. You didn’t want him to.

Afterward you kiss every square centimeter of his face, including the tears you find gathered at his lash line. You don’t call attention to them - you know he would feel a little uncomfortable if you did. But when you finally kiss his lips, it’s only sweet.

The two of you fall asleep in one another’s arms, ensconced in the warmth of your empty apartment, confident in the fact that your love is enough to fill it.

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic

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elusivewildflower · 1 year

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Wide Open Spaces | Cowboy!Court x F!Reader

Pairing: Cowboy!Court Gentry x F!Reader

Summary: After ending your five-year relationship, you find out your beloved Aunt left you her small Ranch out in the country. Desperate to get away from the city, you happily up and move several states away for a fresh start. What happens when you find out your new neighbor is a hot single dad? (Court and Claire have taken on their new life of father & daughter after the events of the movie and settled down on a ranch.)

Warnings: Court being a sexy Cowboy, Claire meddling in Court's love life, and mentions of a deceased family member.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I haven't posted anything in FOREVER, and honestly....I have missed it. The new photos of Ryan have inspired me to write a fic (that will probably turn into a series) about Cowboy Court. I hope you all love this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

As you stepped out of your car, you sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. It was so much different than the city air you had been breathing for the last five years. There was none of the usual exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke, and the lingering smell of fast food from two blocks away here. You cast your gaze over the home your aunt had left you when she passed. It had been years since you’d been here, and it looked like it had been quite a while since anyone had. The house wasn’t in total disrepair, but it was clear that no one had lived here in the three years your aunt was in assisted living. The wooden steps beneath your feet creaked as you climbed them, the railing wobbly when you placed your hand on it. Your nose scrunched in disgust as you had to bat away a few cobwebs, thankful that there weren’t any spiders on them at the time. You dug your new set of keys out from your purse and pushed it into the lock. A smile crept across your face as the lock twisted easily, but when you simply pushed on the door to open, it wouldn’t budge.

After putting all of your weight against the door, you nearly barreled through it into your aunt’s foyer. Well, you supposed it was yours now. As you maneuvered into the living room, a sneeze overcame you. Wow, you were going to have to put dusting at the top of your list. All of your aunt’s furniture sat right where she left it, just coated in a heavy layer of dust. The style wasn’t exactly to your taste, but it was better than having nothing. Sure, you had some furniture back in the city, but it was easier just to leave it there. Those pieces held too many memories that you wanted to forget, and it made it easier to move several states away without any help. After all, with your aunt gone now, all you had was, well, you.

As you explored the house, grimacing at the state of a few rooms, you found yourself back in the kitchen. It was going to be difficult, but this fresh start was exactly what you needed. Leaning yourself against the sink, you gazed out the window in front of you. Your aunt’s land wasn’t ginormous by any means, but there was a stable for horses, a small barn, and plenty of fenced in yard. In the distance, you could see a man on a horse. You assumed that must be your new neighbor. He was too far away to notice much, but the cowboy hat on his head and tan leather jacket that covered his broad shoulders was enough to intrigue you. The sudden sound of a knock on your door pulled you from your staring.

“I’m coming,” you called out as you made your way back to the foyer. You certainly weren’t expecting any visitors, but you figured it was probably the wife of the man you had just been ogling from a distance. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by a girl who looked no older than sixteen.

“Uh, hello,” you greeted.

A wide smile was spread across the girl’s face. “Hi! I’m Claire, your new neighbor.” She gestured towards the land besides yours, and for the first time you noticed the plate of cookies in her hand. “Can I come in? I made these for you.”

You let a smile grace your features as you nodded and took a step back. “Of course, come on in.” As Claire stepped into your home, you felt the need to apologize for the state of it. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess.” You began as you led her towards the kitchen.

Claire shook her head, cutting you off. “No, it’s okay. No one’s been here in years.” She glanced around as she followed you. “I actually met your aunt right before she went into assisted living about three years ago.” She admitted. “She was a really nice lady.”

You nodded your head solemnly as you thought of your recently deceased family member. “Yeah, she was.” A wave of guilt washed over you as you wished you had visited her more often, or you know, at all. But, you were busy living your life and always put it off.....You called her monthly, sometimes weekly, but you never stepped foot onto a plane to come and visit. You always thought you’d have more time. Sadly, you’ve found out that isn’t how life works.

It was like Claire felt the shift in you and decided to talk about something else. “It’s nice to have a new neighbor. It gets lonely out here sometimes.”

That caught your attention. Surely, a girl her age must have friends. You furrowed your brows as you looked her over. “Lonely? How so?”

Claire set the plate of cookies down on the dusty counter. You made a mental note that you really needed to get started on cleaning. The younger girl then shrugged her shoulders. “Well, it’s just me and my dad, and he’s fairly protective. I’m homeschooled, so I don’t get out much.” She admitted.

A frown pulled at the corner of your lips. “Mm, I suppose father’s are always good at that, aren’t they?” You questioned rhetorically as you thought of your own father. Vaguely recalling when you were her age and how your father wouldn’t let you stay out past nine o’clock.

Claire nodded in agreement as she absentmindedly brushed a finger across the countertop. “Is it just you moving in?” She asked curiously, her head tilting to the side as she eyed you over.

Something about the look in her eyes made you a bit uneasy, like she was sizing you up. Whatever for, you had no clue. You shifted your weight onto your other leg as you nod. “Yeah, just me. My aunt was the only family I had left, and, uh, I’m newly single.” You explained very briefly.

“Newly?” Claire prodded on that last piece of information you gave.

You blew out a puff of air. Did you really need to be telling your sob story to a sixteen year old? You were silent for a moment as you contemplated. The look in her eyes made her seem older, and she had been nice thus far. What did it hurt? Other than perhaps your ego for your first new friend being a teenager.

“Uh, yeah. I found out my boyfriend of five years had been cheating on me, shortly after I learned about the death of my aunt.” Shrugging your shoulders, you continued. “So, I packed up everything that truly mattered, and I came here.”

Claire scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Ugh, men.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that response. “My thoughts exactly.” You agreed with a heavy sigh.

Claire looked around the room for a moment before something in the window caught her eye. “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack. If you need any help, just give me a call, yeah? And if you need help with repairs, my dad had to fix a lot of stuff when we first moved into our house. I’m sure he can help.” She extended the offer as she pulled out her phone and asked for your number. Once your contact was safely in her phone and she had sent you a text, she let herself out of your back door.

You moved to the sink and watched as she wandered off towards what must have caught her eye. The man you had seen earlier, her father, was at the edge of your property on his horse, staring at your house. That is, until he spotted Claire and his head turned to acknowledge her. You couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the tanned man in the cowboy hat gave your house one last look as Claire hopped up onto the horse to join him before riding off towards their home.

Once they were out of your sight, you turned to face the disaster of a house you now owned and heaved a sigh. It was time to start hauling all of your things in and pick a room upstairs to call your own. Then, you would get started on dusting.

Morning came all too soon for you after staying up late last night dusting every inch of the house. But, at least you wouldn’t have a sneezing fit every time you entered a room anymore. It really wasn’t all that early, but with the long days of travel, emotional and physical baggage you’d been carrying, you felt as if you could sleep all day. However, you had too much work to do for that. So, you pulled yourself from bed and got dressed into some casual clothing. A white tank top and denim shorts, something to keep you cool while you clean.

After taking care of getting yourself ready, you made your way down to the kitchen. Sadly, your aunt didn’t even have an old-fashioned coffee pot and you begrudgingly accepted that you would have to make due without any caffeine. This wasn’t the city, and there was no easy way to doordash your morning fix. You heaved a sigh and made your way to the kitchen sink, intending to twist the knob and turn on warm water. But, it was stuck. You sighed again in frustration, wondering how many things in this house were going to require more strength than you possessed in order to work. You beared down harder on the knob, and felt a streak of pride as it finally turned. That is, until the knob came off right in your hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You stared at the handle in disbelief for a moment before the sound of rushing water reached your ears. Dumbfounded, you stared at the faucet. There wasn’t any water coming from it. Where was it…? Oh no.

Realization hit as you hurriedly bent down to rip open the cabinet beneath the sink. There was water gushing from….somewhere. You weren’t a plumber and without caffeine your brain still felt like mush. You cursed, several times actually, and then began to panic. You tried twisting the other knob to the sink, but it did absolutely nothing. At least it didn’t break off like the other, though. You had no idea where the water shut-off valve was in the house and you stood helplessly as you watched your kitchen floor begin to flood.

Come on, do something! You thought to yourself, trying to come up with a plan. Towels. Finally, there was an idea. Surely your aunt had to have a spare linen closet around here, right? You frantically searched for one until you found it near the mud room, grabbing as many linens as you could carry and rushing back to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the water had spread since you had left, and you slipped, landing on the hard linoleum floor. The towels you were carrying also fell, at least beginning to soak up the water. As you slowly rose to your feet, your white tank top and shorts now soaked, you realized the towels were hardly helping the problem. Grabbing your phone, you called the only person you could think of.

Claire.

It was answered on the second ring. “Hello?” Came the familiar voice of the girl you had met just yesterday.

“Claire!” You exclaimed in relief. “Do you know any plumbers? I think a pipe burst in my kitchen sink and it’s gushing water and I have no idea where the shut-off is.” You rambled out frantically.

“I’ll go get my dad, he’ll be right there!”

You shook your head, that wasn’t what you had asked. “No, wait–” you began to protest, but the girl had already hung up.

Claire must work fast, because you swore it was only a matter of minutes before you heard a knock at your front door. Your feet carried you as fast as you could without slipping on the hardwood floors of the house. You were going to have to throw your shoes outside to dry after this. As you slung open the front door, you stopped in your tracks.

Wow. You knew Claire’s father was handsome even from a distance, but you didn’t expect him to be this handsome. He was a bit older than you, but he had to be, to have a daughter that was Claire’s age. The only thing that gave away his age, though, were the fine lines he had begun to develop on his brow and around his eyes. His short, blonde, hair was messy without a single strand of gray insight. He must’ve come from working in the yard because his white t-shirt that fit him perfectly was slightly dirty, his arms and face were covered in a bit of dirt and dust, along with a thin sheen of sweat. As your eyes trailed down his form, you noticed the toolbelt he wore around his waist, and the new pipe that he held in his tattooed hand. You only caught a glimpse of his brown cowboy boots before he cleared his throat to gain your attention. Shit, had you really been staring for that long?

You rose your eyes to meet his keen blue ones as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. He was staring directly at your face. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so distracted, you might’ve noticed it was because your top was completely see-through from being soaked.

“I, uh, heard you’ve got a leak?” His smooth voice graced your ears, and successfully pulled you back to the issue at hand.

You moved away from the door so that he could enter, gesturing for him to come inside. “Yes, a big one,” you answered hurriedly. As he stepped inside, you saw his horse waiting for him in your front lawn. Ah, that was how he got here so quickly.

You didn’t need to show him where the kitchen was. He either was smart enough to have an idea, as you assumed all of the old houses out here were set up similarly, or he followed the sound of water. He let out a curse under his breath as he saw what he was faced with. “Yeah, that’s a big one alright,” he agreed with your earlier sentiment before dropping down to his knees and immediately getting to work.

Within seconds, his tee was completely soaked like yours. But, it didn’t seem to bother him. His hands were moving faster than you could comprehend, using his pure strength to unscrew the pipe that was broken so that he could get the new one installed. He let out a few grunts as he worked, and all you could do was lean yourself against the island and watch. The muscles in his arms bulged as he exerted his strength against the pipe. His slightly tanned skin was on full display now that his shirt was transparent, and you could even make out a bit of the tattoo he had on his chest. Your eyes happily drank in the sight of his chiseled torso. At this moment, you were almost thanking your ex for cheating on you and your aunt for leaving you this house because without all of those things coming together, you would’ve never been able to experience this. An attractive, hard working man at work. Your eyes drifted from his torso to take in the gruesome scar he had on his left arm, curious to know how that came to be.

What felt like an hour to your daydreaming self, was really only a matter of minutes before Claire’s father had your leak fixed. Or, at least, one of them. You couldn’t help but realize the sight before you, and the grunting sounds he let out whilst working, had awakened something within. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. And you didn’t even know his name.

Movement pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized that he was coming out from underneath the sink. You had to act as if you hadn’t been gawking at him this entire time, and instead stared at the floor that was covered in soaked towels. The sound of running water pulled your attention back to the sink, and you found that he was also staring at the faucet that was still running. Right, the knob broke too.

He gave a nod as he realized the next issue. “Right, well at least it’s not flooding your kitchen anymore.” He turned his head to look at you briefly before looking back to the faucet. “I probably have a spare around, if not, I’ll run out and grab one.” He explained with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

You were quick to shake your head. “You don’t need to do that,” you began. “I can run out to the store and grab one.” You glanced down at yourself, finally realizing that you had put on a hot pink bra this morning and your still-soaked tank was completely transparent. “....Right after I change.” You felt heat creep up your neck once more as embarrassment overcame you.

When you glanced back over at him, he was quick to avert his eyes. “Really, I don’t mind. Your aunt was very nice to Claire and I when we first moved in. She personally made us about a week’s worth of food, I think.” He explained, letting out a chuckle.

You bit down on your bottom lip. That certainly sounded like something your aunt would do, and if this attractive man wanted to help you as a repayment, then you supposed you could oblige. “Fine, I’ll accept your help. On one condition.” You paused, watching as he rose a brow at you, urging for you to go on. “You tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Claire’s father.” You finished with a grin.

A smile of his own crossed his features and those wrinkles in the corner of his eyes deepened. “You can call me Court.”

“Thank you, Court, for saving my entire house from being flooded.” You spoke with a laugh as you looked down at your kitchen floor.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t stop it before the kitchen flooded,” he responded. “Speaking of, do you wanna go get changed and I’ll help you clean up before I fix the faucet?”

You glanced down at yourself once more, and with a moment of confidence, you shook your head. “No, I’m sure you’ve already seen it, so what does it matter?” You asked rhetorically. “Besides, it wouldn’t really be fair for only one of us to be wet, now would it?”

Court paused to look at you, seemingly analyzing your choice of words. You watched as his eyes flashed down to your chest before he shook his head. “I suppose not.” He spoke, moving to pick up the water-logged towels on the floor.

A few minutes into picking up the strewn about linens and you heard Court curse.

“Shit.”

You turned to look at him, worry in your brow. “What?” You questioned.

“A piece of your linoleum was lifted up, water got all underneath.” There was a pause. “I’m gonna have to replace your floor.”

“Shit,” you echoed.

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow.” He stated nonchalantly.

You stopped in your tracks. Here this man was, a stranger, really, volunteering to spend a day replacing your flooring? “Court, really, you don’t have to. I can hire someone to fix it.”

Court shook his head. “It’s not a problem. Like I said, your aunt was a nice lady.”

“She was so nice that you’d spend an entire day of labor replacing her niece’s kitchen floor?” You asked in disbelief. If this were the city, you’d never find a man offering to replace your flooring for free.

Turning his head to finally look at you, Court smirked. “For her niece that’s as pretty as you? Yeah, I’d do a lot of things.”

Any retort you could think of making died on your tongue and Court went back to picking up linens with that smug smirk on his face. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited. Did he just flirt with you? After a moment, you shook yourself out of your stupor and resumed picking up the towels.

The two of you carried your heaping piles of soaked towels to the mud room, where you began loading up the washer. As Court stood there watching you, you turned towards him.

“Can I at least make you and Claire dinner tonight to show thanks?” You canted your head as you awaited his response.

Court’s tongue darted across his lower lip. “I’ll allow it.” He agreed with a nod, then motioned towards the hallway with his head. “I’ll be back soon to fix your faucet, alright?”

You nodded, watching as he turned and left. After you heard your front door close shut, you placed your head in your hands. Your life felt like an absolute train wreck at the moment, but somehow you knew it was only going to get better. Your aunt always swore moving out here would be better for you than your life in the city. You didn’t used to believe her, but after today? You were starting to realize she might’ve been right.

Now, you need to plan for dinner. Fuck. Why didn’t you ask him what his favorite food was? You have no idea what to make. Slapping yourself on the forehead, you let out a groan before making your way up to your bedroom to get changed.

“Easy, girl.” Court called to his horse as he pulled on the reins. She slowed her trot to a halt by his house, allowing him to slip off from the saddle. As he made his way inside of the home, his thoughts solely on the new girl next door, Claire was waiting for him.

“So, did you fix her sink?” She asked, startling him from his thoughts.

Jesus, he thought. He was really losing some of his skills if he let Claire startle him over a woman. He clicked his teeth and nodded, trying not to seem interested. The last thing he needed was Claire meddling in his love life. He’d been lucky thus far by keeping her home so often that she never met anyone she could set him up with. But that never stopped her from constantly suggesting it.

“Yeah, mostly. I stopped the leak, but a knob is broken and I need to replace it. Some water got under her flooring.” He explained as he moved towards his bedroom to find dry clothing. “I’ll have to replace that tomorrow.”

Claire followed right behind him, the idea of personal space diminishing over the years they had lived together. She wouldn’t enter his room if he was changing, but she’d be right outside of the door, continuing the conversation she started.

“So, you’ll be seeing her again tomorrow?” Claire wondered aloud. There was something in her tone of voice that set off alarms in Court’s head. But he tried to ignore it. If he called her out on it too soon….

“Yeah, and she’s making us dinner tonight.” He added on with a huff as he stripped himself of his shirt and pants. Then began rummaging around for new ones in his closet.

“That’s great! I knew you’d like her.” She called smugly from the other side of the door.

Court’s brows furrowed as he tossed his new shirt over his torso and closed the distance between him and the door. He opened it wide enough to peek his head out and level his gaze with Claire.

“Who said anything about liking her? She’s doing it as a thank you.”

Claire stared blankly up at him. “But she’s pretty, isn’t she?” She questioned, as if that were the only important matter.

Court didn’t respond. He simply shook his head at her antics and shut the door in her face. He wasn’t giving her the satisfaction of the truth.

“Deny it all you want, but you just wait! You’ll be telling me I’m right before long.” She called out teasingly as Court retreated further into his room to put on pants.

God help him with that girl. She wasn’t going to rest until she was right. For once though, he might not have much of a problem with that.

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