#So I work in a school and I have to watch kids on the playground right?

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

The Urge to walk on things like they’re a balance beam

[headkiss]

you’ll always know me

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.

word count: 8.6k

warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!

a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!

♫♩♪♬

It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.

To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.

Closer than anyone ever would, still.

To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.

You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.

Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.

(“Hello?”

“I can’t get this line to sound right.”

“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)

You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.

Because you do. You miss him so much.

A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.

There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.

‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’

You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.

You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.

Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.

Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.

Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.

-

Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.

Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.

He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.

Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.

At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.

Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.

He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.

He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.

“Munson! You’re on in five!”

He’ll call you later, then.

-

“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”

The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.

He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.

It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.

His hands clench into fits in his lap.

As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.

Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.

The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.

After all, it was home.

Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.

Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.

Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”

He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”

“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”

“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.

He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.

He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.

“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”

“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”

Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.

Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.

By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.

He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.

In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks.”

He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.

In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.

“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.

They both know he means you.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”

“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”

Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.

“She misses you,” Wayne adds.

“She tell you that?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”

Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.

Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.

“I miss her, too.”

“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”

“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was still fuckin’ funny.”

“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”

Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.

In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.

Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.

He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.

-

Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.

Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.

You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.

“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.

You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”

Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.

You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”

And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.

You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.

“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.

“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.

“Eddie!”

“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”

Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.

Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.

“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”

“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”

“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”

“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”

You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”

He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.

Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.

“You working late?” He asks.

“Until we close.”

“Care for some company?”

You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”

“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”

It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.

It’s all better than not having him at all.

“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”

“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.

“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”

He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”

You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”

Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.

He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.

He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.

“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.

Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.

Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.

The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.

On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.

He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.

It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.

After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”

“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.

When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”

You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.

“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”

Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.

You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.

Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.

He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.

When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.

Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.

The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.

Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.

Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.

“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.

She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.

“‘Course I am.”

“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”

He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”

“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”

He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.

“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.

“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”

It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.

It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.

-

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.

They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”

“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”

“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.

Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”

You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.

“Look who I brought,” You announce.

Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”

“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.

It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.

All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.

“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.

“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.

“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.

“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”

And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.

You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.

He plops down beside you.

“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.

Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.

“You could definitely say that.”

Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.

He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.

Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”

The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.

It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.

You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.

When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”

His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”

And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.

Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”

You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.

Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?

You laugh awkwardly, “what?”

“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.

“Me and Eddie?”

He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.

“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”

You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”

“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.

Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.

Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.

Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.

He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.

-

It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.

Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.

There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.

Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.

“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.

You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.

“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.

“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”

He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”

“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”

“Getting cheap, trouble?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.

It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.

Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”

“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.

His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.

“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”

“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”

Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.

“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”

“You’re still my loser.”

How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.

“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.

You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”

Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.

“I miss you, too, trouble.”

Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.

“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“

“I think about you a lot, honey.”

Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.

Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.

“You do?”

“All the time. You’re my best friend.”

Right. Friend.

“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”

And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.

Against all odds, he does.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.

He’s kissing you.

It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.

It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.

When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.

“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.

“Was it okay?”

“More than okay.”

You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.

-

Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.

You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.

Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.

Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.

He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.

The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.

Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.

Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.

You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”

Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.

You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.

So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.

“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”

“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”

“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”

“I mean right now.”

You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.

He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.

“Did you have a show today?”

You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.

“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”

“Nervous or excited?”

It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”

“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”

He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”

“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”

“You asked!”

“You answered the question wrong, honey.”

There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.

“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”

“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”

“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”

“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”

“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”

Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.

Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.

Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.

“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.

“Hm?” He hums sleepily.

“I lost you for a second there.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”

You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”

And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.

Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.

There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.

-

The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.

You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.

That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.

They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.

“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”

You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.

Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.

If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.

Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.

“Eddie?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”

“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”

Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.

“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.

“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”

“You do not.”

“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”

“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”

Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.

“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.

“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”

“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”

Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.

“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”

It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.

“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”

“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”

Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”

“You don’t?”

He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.

“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”

No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.

He’s so, so fucked.

“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.

“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.

“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”

“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.

Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

-

After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.

But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.

He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.

“What?” He pauses in the doorway.

“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.

“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.

“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do,” Jeff says.

“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”

Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.

These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.

Yeah, he’s so fucked.

♫♩♪♬

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!

[pucksandpower]

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

[miley1442111]

insomniac- a.hotchner

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

i have diagnosed insomnia so literally do not fucking come for me if u think something is 'wrong' ❤️

summary: how aaron helps with your insomnia episodes

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: fluff, discussions of insomnia and feeling 'different' because of it, mental health, crying, comfort.

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Aaron knew he missed something. He knew you would never be this cold to him if he hadn’t. It had been an entire week of a case, and his calendar updated meaning that all of his reminders had been deleted. The case was awful, but at least it was in DC. Yet, every night he came home to you asleep on the couch, a plate of dinner in the fridge lacking its regular note, and a cold bed. 

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He walked inside and locked the door behind him, he knew you’d be awake, it was only 5pm. He walked further into the house, hearing your soft singing while you cooked dinner and Jack’s giggles as you two danced. 

Aaron leant against the door, smiling at you two. You two were the loves of his life. He adored you two. 

“Daddy!” Jack squealed, excited to see his dad for the first time that day.

“Hey buddy,” he smiled, picking him up when he ran to him. 

“Hi darling,” you smiled at Aaron, a familiar tone in your voice. Was it hurt? Or upset? Or anger? 

“Hi love,” he smiled and kissed your forehead as you burrowed into his side. He felt confused. If you were angry with him, why were you so close?

“Bug and me went to the playground after school today!” Jack beamed. Bug had been the nickname you were given as a child and when your family came over to meet Jack and Aaron, they called you it. Aaron, on occasion called you Bug but he used it sparingly. Only on certain occasions he felt it necissary. Whereas Jack exclusively called you Bug. Bug was your nickname as a kid because well, you liked bugs. 

You removed yourself from Aaron’s embrace with a subtle yawn and continued cooking at the stove, swaying your hips slightly to the soft music in the background. 

“Bug hasn’t been sleeping this week,” Jack whispered in his ear and it all made sense. You had insomnia, you’d had it since you were a child. The only place you’d ever felt you could actually sleep when you had an episode like this is the couch, since it’s where your parents would let you sleep as they watched tv late at night. Aaron nodded his head and put Jack down, signalling for him to go play in his playroom. Jack didn’t need to be told twice. 

“Baby?” Aaron murmured as he held you from behind, swaying with you. 

“Hm?” You hummed lazily. “How was your case?”

“Fine. Long. How are you?” He asked, his concern about you trumping the horrors he’d seen that week.

“Fine, not much is going on at work-” You tried to lie, but Aaron was a profiler for fuck’s sake. He saw the tired and glossy eyes, felt the tensed muscles in your back against his chest, noticed the way your arms hung lower, and the way you slightly dragged your feet. 

“Bug,” he softly scolded. You sighed and it turned into a yawn. “You’re not sleeping?” He could feel the heave in your chest, the way you bit your lip as your eyes threatened to spill the tears you’d kept in all week. Your breathing accelerated and he pressed one of his large hands over your diaphragm, feeling your sporadic breathing. “It’s ok darling, let it out.”

You whipped around, sobbing into his chest. You were sick of it, sick of this. Asking yourself the same questions since you were a child “why am i different?” “Why can everyone else just sleep?” “It’s a regular bodily function, we need it to survive, why can’t I sleep?”

Feeling just the same as your childhood self, tired and scared, wondering if you’d be like this forever. 

Aaron always helped, you were a lot worse at the beginning of your relationship but he helped you sleep, got you to doctors, and made an effort to understand you. 

“I fucking hate this,” you whispered into his chest. “I hate not sleeping.”

“I know, I just wish there was something I could do,” Aaron had felt helpless in this area of your relationship. He’d had the odd sleepless night, anyone in his position would. But he couldn’t even imagine the difficulty of your situation. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for being here,” you whispered, wiping your tears away. He put a hand under your chin, making you look at him. 

“I’ll always be here for you, always,” he promised.

You nodded and turned back around, finishing off dinner. 

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After dinner, Aaron washed up as you put Jack to sleep, then grabbed your blankets and pillow to set up on the couch for the night. When you walked downstairs, you found Aaron sitting on the couch in his pyjamas. 

“Hey baby,” he smiled and pulled you into his lap by your waist. Your tired head landed on his chest and you allowed your eyes to close as you listened to him recount his week and the case. He held you tight, tighter than usual. Though, you didn’t mind. 

After an hour or so, Aaron noticed the steady, snoozing breaths falling from your lips and he carried you to your shared bed, setting you down beside him. His arms wrapped around you and he fell asleep, happy to know that you were sleeping soundly. 

He knew this wouldn’t be the last episode, or the worst, but he was happy to help anyway. 

In any way he could.

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criminal minds masterlist :) <- other insomniac reader works here :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[bellaxgiornata]

SAHD!Frank Castle Headcanons

I picture Frank being an amazing, hands-on father if he ever managed to fall back into that role again and I just think he'd make such a wonderful stay-at-home-dad. I couldn't resist sharing some of my SAHD!Frank headcanons so they're below the cut! And I'm also just going to make him a girl dad here because he absolutely is in my mind.

I could also certainly be persuaded to share some girl dad!Frank Castle headcanons...

With the ridiculous cost of daycare, you and Frank would eventually come to the conclusion that it was just more cost effective to have one of you stay home with the girls. And while you might be tempted to do it yourself, you'd also know how much Frank would cherish being present for every moment with his kids. He'd never want to miss a single thing after the tragic loss he'd experienced, and you'd have already seen his steadfast devotion during your pregnancy. While he would argue that you should be the one to stay home with them, eventually you would win out.

On weekdays, Frank would be awake early every morning--possibly even before your alarm went off. He'd always have a mug of hot coffee or tea made for you whenever you finally stepped foot into the kitchen. And when you did, you'd find him preparing breakfast for the girls. He'd always make you up a plate of whatever he cooked, insisting you eat something before you were out the door for work ("You gotta eat, baby. Just a few bites, c'mon."). And Wednesdays would forever be known as pancake day in your house.

Frank would never run out of activities to do with the kids, even if you found some of them to be very 'Frank.' He'd have them help him build things (a new bookshelf, a baby crib, a birdhouse, etc), and he'd teach them what tools to use while he's at it. He'd have them assist him with changing the oil in the car, fixing a leaky sink, or preparing vegetables in the kitchen for dinner (with child-safe knives that he always complained to you later about how "they can't cut for shit."). When playfully teased about the things he teaches them, he'd tell you he wanted your girls to learn "the real shit they won't get from school."

Every Friday is Library Day in the Castle house. Frank would take the girls to the library in the morning for story time where he would sit back and watch with a big grin on his face as his girls sat "criss-cross applesauce" among all the other kids and listened to the books with rapt attention. Aftwerwards, he'd let them pick out new books for bedtime for the upcoming week. Then he would always make the morning extra special by taking the girls out for brunch.

He loves nothing more than to free up more time for all of you to spend together as a family on the weekend, so he would be the dad running errands during the weekdays with a toddler holding each of his hands (or a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier). He'd be out grabbing groceries, hitting up the hardware/home improvement store so he could work on projects around the house, or he'd be taking the kids to their doctor/dentist appointments so you wouldn't have to think about it later.

Frank would be the cool dad at all the parks, the one not afraid to play with his kids and push them on the swings. He'd be making small talk with the other moms and setting up play dates for his girls. He'd also be the one all the other kids flocked to on the playground whenever he was there because he was known to easily be persuaded into playing hide and seek or tag.

A few times throughout the month, Frank would stop by your work just before your lunch break to drop off food with the girls as an excuse to see you ("Had to come see my favorite girl. Wanted to make sure you're not workin' too hard."). You always loved it even more on the random occasions that your lunch came with a bouquet of flowers--either store bought or freshly picked on a walk by him and your girls.

If Frank knew you had a big presentation coming up or that you were just having a rough week/day, you could always count on coming home to something he made with the girls--pictures they colored or crafts they made--to cheer you up ("S'posed to be a butterfly ring or something. Shit, I don't know. Girls wanted to do somethin' with pipe cleaners. Blame YouTube.")

At the end of a long work day, you'd come home to see that dinner was almost finished cooking most nights. You'd either find Frank out back with a beer in one hand grilling while the girls were playing in the yard, or he would be in the kitchen surrounded by high-pitched laughter.

And when you came home from a long day of work, you could always count on Frank greeting you with the biggest smile. He'd wrap you up in his big arms and give you the sweetest kiss, even if he had to pause cooking dinner ("Missed you today, sweetheart. Hope you're hungry."). It would be the thing you looked forward to most at the end of every day, especially on particularly difficult days.

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels

Description: Single dad Miguel who replaced himself in a new universe meets his daughter's favorite teacher, you, who just happens to have a shitty boyfriend and doesn't yet know how much the O'Hara family wants you to stick around

Pt 2

I cracked y'all, and I blame TikTok

“Ms. Y/N, watch me, watch me!” Gabi calls, waving her arms in the air to catch your attention.

“I’m watching, go ahead.” You encourage her, smiling brightly when she does a successful cartwheel, her hair spilling from the loose braid one of her classmates had done for her during quiet reading.

You know teachers aren’t supposed to have favorite students, you tell each and every one of your students that you don’t have favorites, that you adore all of them equally. But Gabriella O’Hara holds a special place in your heart.

“Did you see, did you see?” She asks excitedly, running up to you, dark curls tumbling wildly around her shoulders.

You kneel down, and brush the hair back from her face, still smiling brightly. “I did, that was amazing, who taught you that?”

“My dad, he helped me practice.” She says, giving you a toothy grin, one front tooth missing from where she’d knocked it out eating an apple yesterday.

A tear-filled lunch that had been until you reminded her that now the Tooth Fairy would come visit her. The idea of a sparkly fairy leaving her money in exchange for her tooth dried her tears quickly, and soon enough she was proudly showing off her lost tooth (safely contained in a Ziploc bag) to anyone who would listen.

“Well, it seems like your dad is a very good teacher, then.” You say, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before her friends dragged her back onto the playground.

You stood back up and rejoined the other first grade teachers.

“She’s adorable.” Janey says, nodding at Gabi who was playing tag with a few other girls.

Janey taught in the classroom next to yours. You started teaching at the same time, but she’d been hired at Steve Rodgers Elementary a year before you. Janey was the first friend you made when you got hired, and you soon became close friends inside and outside school.

“She’s so well-behaved, too; I wish I knew who her mom was, so I could thank her.” You say, a slight grimace on your face, when you watched two boys from your class begin to shove each other.

You called out to them, and they stopped, giving you guilty looks before running towards the swing sets.

“There’s no mom, she walked out on Gabi and her father after she was born.” Melissa says, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her kids.

Melissa was a senior teacher at Rodgers Elementary. A tough love works the best teacher with the confidence of a god, and a nose for gossip like you couldn’t believe.

“Oh, that’s so sad.” You say, your heart hurting for the sweet little girl who always wanted to sit next to you during story time. Gabi had told you about her dad many times, but never mentioned her mom, you just assumed she was away for work often, or that they didn’t have many things in common.

You looked at Gabi, watching as she helped one of her friends tie their shoes. Sitting beside them and patiently demonstrating on her own sneakers. How could anyone walk away from her?

“It is, but her dad…he’s hot, I’ve seen him in the pickup line, he’s like a male model or something.” Melissa says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You gave her an incredulous look. “Melissa! That’s a parent you’re talking about.”

She shrugs. “Hey, I’m married, I’m not gonna do anything, but one of you could.”

Janey turns her head to hide her laughter, and you smack her arm. “Janey, hitting on a child’s parent is wildly inappropriate, besides I have Todd.”

Melissa snorts, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Todd was not a popular man around the school, especially after what he pulled on your birthday.

The bell rings signaling the end of recess and your kids begin to line up, ending your conversation as the three of you are pulled in different directions.

There’s a knock at your door, and you look up from grading papers, to see Janey. “Hey y/n, Gabi’s father is here to see you?”

You shoot her a look of confusion and begin to tidy up your desk, then stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your baby pink dress. “Oh, yeah, sure, let him in.”

Janey disappears, and the space is filled by a giant of a man. He towers over the desks, making them look even tinier than they already were. His shoulders are massive, his biceps you swear are bigger than your thighs, though you could be exaggerating, but you’re honestly not sure, and when he fixes those dark brown eyes on you, and suddenly the floor beneath you feels unsteady.

“Mr. O’Hara, how can I help you?” You manage to get out, motioning for him to take a seat in front of his desk.

“I’ll stand.” He says curtly. His voice is deep, settling in your bones, the faint whisper of an accent, and confidence behind his words makes you nervous for a moment, then you recognize the feeling, not nerves…something else, something much more inappropriate.

“Oh—okay, is there something you need, is Gabi okay?” You ask, realizing she isn’t in the classroom with him.

“She’s fine, just sitting outside with her book.” He explains, his eyes piercing straight through you.

“Margaret and Margarita, right? Your daughter an exceptional reader, in both English and Spanish, you should be very proud.” You say, giving him a smile, hoping the compliment will soften his expression and make it seem like he didn’t want to murder you.

Melissa was right, Mr. O’Hara was gorgeous. With a strong jawline, high cheekbones, a mess of thick dark hair, and perfectly formed lips, all tapering down to the body of an Adonis, clothed in a white button up that stretched across his broad chest, and black slacks that clung to his muscled legs like it was their job and rent was due next week. But his expression was flat, his eyes cold, his stance rigid.

“Why did you lie to my daughter?” He asks flatly, looking down at you, as if you were a bug on his windshield.

You blink up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be.”

An indignant expression flashed across your face before you could stop it, and you saw Mr. O’Hara’s lip twitch. “I’m not apologizing, I’m asking for clarification.”

“You told Gabi that the Tooth Fairy was going to visit her, I wasn’t going to do the Tooth Fairy , she doesn’t need false hope.” He snaps, leaning forward slightly, towering over you.

The hair on your arms stands up, but you brush it off as a stab of guilt goes through you. He was a single dad, maybe he couldn’t afford such frivolous traditions. “Mr. O’Hara, if this is a financial issue, I am so sorry. I should’ve tried to comfort her another way, my sincerest apologizes.”

“This isn’t a financial issu—comfort her?” He stops midsentence, his brows furrowing.

“She was upset because she lost her teeth, it’s her first one, a ton of kids get a little scared, but the promise of a reward usually clears those tears right up.” You tell him, holding your hands up in a pacifying way as you talk.

His eyes dart down to your hands, then back to your eyes, lingering for a moment on your lips. “I didn’t—Gabi didn’t tell me she was scared.”

“She was probably a little embarrassed. She talks all the time about how brave you are and how she wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

His expression softens.

“I actually—”you turn to rifle through your desk until you find Gabi’s latest assignment—“have something for you.”

He takes the paper from you, and you can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf yours, his tanned skin is scattered with small scars, and his calloused fingertips brush against yours. “What is this?”

“I had the kids draw a picture of their hero and then write a few sentences about why that person is their hero. I think she was one of a few who didn’t draw Spiderman.” You laugh softly.

He cradles the paper and a soft smile spreads across his face as he reads her writing under his breath. “Porque mi papá lucha contra los monstruos en mi armario.”

“I had to look that one up, my Spanish is terrible.” You admit sheepishly, watching as he reads her words over and over again.

“Thank you, for this, and for comforting Gabi.” He says, folding the paper carefully and sliding it in his pocket.

“Of course, I love Gabi, she’s such a pleasure to have in class.”

He looks at you, really looks at you, and you’re struck by how similar he and Gabi are. They have the same nose, the same almost curls that frame their faces, and when he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side you almost burst out laughing. You can’t count how many times you’ve seen Gabi do that exact same thing.

“You know Gabi talks a lot about you, how pretty you are, she was right.” His voice is low, smooth, and sends a jolt through you. Then he takes his leave, with you standing there stunned, wondering what the hell just happened to you.

Eternal Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[bleedingoptimism]

Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.

But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.

He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…

But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 

They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.

The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.

‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’

‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.

“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  

“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.

“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 

“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 

“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.

But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 

Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”

Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.

But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.

Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,

“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”

Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.

And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.

Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.

Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.

He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.

Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”

He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,

“Hey,”

“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.

‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.

“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.

Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.

🧸

A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 

Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.

Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.

He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 

He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.

And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.

However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.

But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 

All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.

The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’

Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.

“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.

‘Yes’

“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.

“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 

They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 

“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.

Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.

God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.

Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.

But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.

After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.

Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”

Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.

“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.

He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.

“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”

Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”

Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.

He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’

Fuck Tommy.

He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.

☝️first part

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[xuchiya]

"inner children" || park seonghwa

| genre: fluff. fluff. slice of life? fluff | mentions: bullying

you and seonghwa had been friends since you were both 4 years old. you both have been the chao duo. from causing trouble inside the playground towards doing a ding dong ditch on your neighbors that almost caught you both and reported to the local police about you two.

Or when the two of you are now in high school, you always find yourself in and out of the principal's office with the violation of "bullying" even though it's far from that. Everyone in school salutes you both for defending those who gets bullied, you defend them by being silly.

By silly, you would let them have a taste of their own medicine. you and seonghwa never dared to get pass through them without having to swallow down their pride and apologize for their wrongdoing.

Then when time came and college life had cut through your childish acts, seonghwa became a trainee. you were far from becoming an idol since you prefer working on the camera, but your friendship didn't falter one bit.

Seonghwa, on his way back home, alone. You were busy with your multimedia meeting when he stops midway outside his journey outside when thunder and lightning combined with heavy rain startled him. He huffs, pulling out from his backpack his umbrella until he realizes it wasn't there.

"You got to be kidding me." Seonghwa whispers, sighing he looks around in a way of searching for anything. You. Apparently, the meeting ended, and you were on your way out when you noticed a tall figure by the entrance.

"Hwa?" Seongha turns around, surprise to see you. You chuckle, "No umbrella?"

"Yeah ... forgot it at home." You both stared at the pouring rain. It was like back then, when you both were still at age of eight, you both were forbidden to play in the rain because you both are hard to handle when sick, so you both stick watching the rain.

That is until you were being a rascal back then and still played in the rain.

You chuckle, remembering how you were scolded by your grandma and now had a reason not to go to school. Seonghwa glances at you frowning slightly, "What?"

Shaking your head, a smile still evident on your face, "Remember when mama was so mad at me for pulling you in with me when it was storming outside?"

Seonghwa thought for a second, recalling about your memory until he is also chuckling, "You were such a rascal and now we both have reasons not to go to school."

You both were in a soft laughing fit until you calm down, staring at the storm. Growing up seems to be so full of responsibility that it weighs you down, missing the life of having no problem, no burdens and expectations for you.

Looking at Seonghwa, he must have felt those things too. Most especially his debut is nearing. You can't turn life around as you like, you have to live, and you have to accept it.

Taking Seonghwa's hand, he was startled at your sudden skinship. You look up at him, "Ready?" Seonghwa wasn't able to comprehend your words before he was drag out of the safety of the roof; he felt his clothes weighing him down and his hair sticking on his forehead.

But what he heard the most is your giggles. His heart was in such speed that it hitches in his throat when you turn around, wet hair whipping on your back as you giggle, mumbling incoherent in his ears until you both settle under the bus stop.

"Sorry." You giggle, wringing out the rainwater out of your hair. Seonghwa shake his head, knocking your head out of habit. You both were almost drenched in the rain, thankfully your university is just near the bus stop.

"Here." Using his varsity jacket, he drapes it around you. You chuckle, looking up at him, "Nah~"

You threw the other part around his head, pulling him close to you, "I won't let you get sick." Seonghwa chuckles, leaning down just so he could directly see you eye to eye.

"You'll take care of me if I did?" If cold had already sip inside your system, it must be because of the sudden warmth going through your neck up to your cheeks, nodding subconsciously.

Seonghwa was surprised from your reaction, yet he finds it cute. He leans in closer, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, "I'll take care of you too."

[shelbgrey]

Not many people write for Twilight anymore! I'd love to see the Cullens(separate) with a mate that has a young child in her care. Could be her own or she adopted the child when her parents(family friends of hers with no other family) passed away. Thinking she'd be about 18 and the kid is 2 yrs old. Please and thank you!!!

Cats in the cradle(Cullen family)

Paring: mother!Reader X OC!Child, Mate!Reader X Cullens(separate)

Carlisle cullen:

You had a son named Jason from a previous relationship. His father is a good dad but the relationship between you and him didn't end well.

Carlisle first interaction with Jason was when he broke his arm on the playground and had to get a cast.

When you and carlisle do start your relationship carlisle works hard to be a good father figure and you can tell he genuinely cares for him.

Like I said before his real dad is a good dad but he's not around much which causes Jason to he closer to carlisle is some ways.

If your son is in Marching band or sports, what ever the case is carlisle will go see your son do what he dose best.

Carlisle would do anything for your kid. He wants to play baseball he'll teach him, he wants to watch a movie carlisle would build a theater room for him. Carlisle spoils him.

Carlisle protects him and you both from the supernatural world as long as he can.

Carlisle asked Jason what he thought about marrying you and Jaosn was over the moon excited. He got to be carlisle best man and everything.

Jason will call him pops or old-man.

As he gets older he'll start wanting to be around Carlisle more and even wants to go to medical school like him.

Emmett cullen:

Your the oldest Clearwater sibling and you have a five year old sister named Lily who turned five when your dad died.

She's been around Emmett since she was two and she's always loved him. At first Emmett would be scared to be around her or hurt her.

It didn't matter to her cus' she'd always follow him around when she was with you guys.

She'll always want to play games with him and help work on cars with him.

She thinks he's a giant and thinks of him as a big brother.

When Harry died all she wanted to do was be around you guys. At the funeral Emmett held her as she cried.

Emmett always knows how to make her laugh. You can't take those two anywhere 😂

Those two have millions of inside jokes

Edward cullen:

You Became a teen mom unexpectedly and the father of your daughter Phenox couldn't care less.

You we're embarrassed to tell your new boyfriend Edward about the situation, not about your daughter(you loved everything about her) but mostly the stuff leading up to your bundle of joy.

Edward didn't care and wanted to be a the father to her like Carlisle had done for him.

Sometimes he'll do the wrong thing with good ententions. Like if your daughter wants to watch a horror movie he'll let her so she's happy. The down fall is her nightmares. He'll balme himself for a couple of days and keep apologizing to you both.

She loves to when he reads to her. His voice is calming in her opinion.

He's very over protective.

Her mind makes him laugh. It's always thinking of something joyful or silly.

At some point she calls him dad and he's over the moon about it. The family has never seen him so happy.

Jasper Hale:

About two years into your relationship your aunt and uncle died unexpectedly. They left behind your three year old cousin Lucas, and thats where you and Jasper come in.

When you got the call about becoming his legal guardian you didn't hesitate. Jasper was a little nervous about, but he wasn't gonna say no.

When you first brought him home Jasper had no idea what to do, he's never been around a kid that age before. Maybe Renesmee but she was only three for about four days and he was gone all that time.

Lucas settled in with the family quickly and over time Jasper and him grew super close.

Lucas loves history so he's always wanting war stories from Jasper.

Jasper would do anything for the kid and thinks he's the only pure thing in his life.

He strives to be a better person because of Lucas.

And Jasper thinks lucas is his kid no matter if they Share the Same blood or not.

Esme Cullen:

Esme is a mother at heart so she immediately took your two year old son under her wing.

She loves Danny with all her heart and felt she finally had a family.

Danny loves helping her with anything and everything. He just wants to be around her.

Sometimes you joke Danny loves her more than you.

Danny calls her mommy and you mama.

He feels so lucky to have two amazing moms like you two.

Rosalie Hale:

You Became the Gardian of your little brother Tom after your parents lost him through CPS. Knowing how awful your parents are you immediately brought him home with you to the Cullen.

Carlisle said he could move in mean he'd be around Rose more often. Rose always wanted to be a mom so she immediately took the roll as the amazing step-mom

She always wants to babysit and take care of him. She'll get him anything that his heart wants.

She'll read to him every night and if he wants to sleep your guys bed he will.

Tom loves her and thinks of her as a amazing step mom but still sees you as his sister. When he got older you explained everything to him. After that he didn't care and still saw you guys as his care givers and loving parents.

Alice Cullen:

Can't say much about this one. You have a Son named Owen and it was totally unexpected when Alice started dating you.

She's not awful to him at all it's just she doesn't know how to interact with him.

They have small talk if it's just the two of them but other than that is not fun to be together with out you.

Over time the two got used to each other but at the same time the two bickered.

Alice truly dose love him like her own son but doesn't know how to show it. She's protective and over time it annoys Owen.

You and Alice have had fights about owen but it's never serious. Owen and Alice relized they had to learn to live together if they want to be with you so they did.

Other than that Alice and owen are cool with each other, they're just not as close as you wished they were.

[avatar-anna]

After reading Harry and Julian’s relationship I can’t even image how Harry would be on his first day of school. I would love to see how Harry would react to each of his babies first days of school

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

"Chin up, love, you're gonna make your old man cry."

Julian's little bottom lip wobbled as he tried to take a deep breath through his sniffly nose. His eyes were lined with a fresh wave of tears, his chubby cheeks ruddy from the ones he shed on the car ride to school. With a shaky voice, the cutest and most heartbreaking it had ever been, Harry thought, Jules said, "I'm s—sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay, JuJu," Harry promised, ignoring the bite of the cold tile floor on his knee as he knelt in front of his son. "Today is going to be so much fun, and it'll go so fast."

"But why can't you stay?" Julian asked, his big eyes pleading.

Those were the eyes that typically had his son getting his way without fail. Harry could never resist that particular look, especially when Julian's lips were pouted just so. My sweet boy, Harry thought. All grown up.

"Because this is school, bubbie. This is where kids go to learn."

"But you and Mommy help me learn," Julian reasoned.

"You've got an answer for everything," Harry murmured. "School is a place for learning and making friends JuJu. And to take art class and read stories and play on the playground. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Harry and Y/n had similar conversations with their son since they told him and Maeve they were going to school. For preschool, Y/n had taken on educating the twins, with Harry helping where he could. It was more manageable when they were quarantined, but now that life was returning to normal and the kids were getting older, there was only so much Y/n could manage on her own. Enrolling the kids in school seemed like the logical next step, and although some of them were excited by the new adventure, others were more apprehensive.

"Tell you what," Harry said when he realized selling the joys of school wasn't working on Julian. "When mum and I pick you and your sisters up today, we'll go get ice cream, how about that?"

"And we can feed the ducks too?" Jules asked, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

Harry grinned. "Yep. We can go to the park and feed the ducks too. But you have to go to school first."

Julian's curls bounced on his forehead as he nodded. "Okay."

"Now dry your tears, bubbie. You're gonna have the best day ever," Harry said as he stood up.

"And you will dry your tears too, Daddy?"

Chuckling to himself, Harry wiped the corner of his eye. "Yes, JuJu. See? All gone."

Harry held his son's hand as they walked into the classroom together. Maeve was already inside, playing with a set of building blocks that were on a colorful carpet. From there, the transition was a little easier, though Harry shared a tearful goodbye with the twins when it was finally time for class to begin. He was the last parent to leave, and the teacher had to gently but firmly usher him out of the room so class could start. He stayed out in the hall for a few minutes, watching Julian to make sure he didn't burst into tears the second Harry left. Maeve was thankfully sat at the same table with two other children, and things seemed to be going well.

Before Julian noticed him in the hall, Harry left for the parking lot, wiping away the few tears that escaped yet again as he walked away from his babies. Y/n was in the car, Geneva and Natalia already in their car seats and ready for the drive home.

"How was it?" she asked.

"As expected. I had to cut a deal with Julian to get him to actually go into the classroom. Minimal tears."

"From you or from our son?"

Harry cut a glance at his wife, whose eyes were on the road in front of her as she drove away from the school. His heart clenched at the thought of leaving his children behind, but he tried not to show it. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"You were very brave," Y/n continued to tease.

Harry only hummed, glancing sidelong at his wife before saying, "Your mascara's running by the way."

"It is not."

"It is. You look like a raccoon. A very cute raccoon."

"Whatever," Y/n mumbled, subtly wiping beneath her eyes. Then, promptly changing the subject, she asked, "What did you have to promise Jules?"

"The usual. Ice cream and a trip to the park."

Y/n smiled. "Good. I was worried you were going to bribe him with a trip to his favorite candy store in New York."

"That was one time."

Y/n laughed as she turned into their neighborhood, her eyes softening as they slowly approached their empty house. It was definitely odd to only have two children with them at home, having gotten used to the usual chaos of wrangling seven children at once. Y/n and Harry had been reassuring each other for weeks that this was a good idea, promising themselves all the things they would get to do with a little more peace and quiet in the house.

When they got inside, Natalia in Harry's arms and GiGi on Y/n's hip, it was eerily quiet. No sounds of television shows, no arguing, no sounds of little feet running around. It was too quiet.

"You know, I forgot to pack the twins a snack this morning," Harry said suddenly. "They have a lunch and a snack time, don't they?"

"Yeah, but they can just—Oh. H, you're not serious."

Harry was in fact dead serious. "What will all their friends think if they have to eat a snack from their lunch box? It's inconceivable!"

Y/n leveled her husband with a look, making sure she knew his antics were a lot, even for him. Harry just stared back insistently, not willing to change his mind.

"You know you're crazy, right? Like this is crazy, even for you."

Ignoring her jab, Harry said to Geneva, "You want to go on another car ride?"

"Yeah!"

"Then it's settled. As soon as I put their snacks together, we'll go."

Y/n rolled her eyes at Harry, but couldn't deny wanting to see her kids one last time before they really had to be left alone so they could learn and adapt. Once they were back in the car and headed back to the school, Y/n rested her hand over her husband's.

"You know this can't be a thing, though, right?"

Harry shrugged, now behind the wheel. "We'll see. I'm a very forgetful person."

[inkskinned]

accidents happen. accidents particularly happen around children.

we make scissors designed for children because we know they can hurt themselves on it. we cut their food up smaller so they are less likely to choke. we "babyproof" our houses, make sure our medications are all closed and locked, close all the outlets.

we are told to just carry a gun.

at some point a kid is going to get hurt. everyone with or around kids knows this. often adults (who shouldn't work with kids) are a little-too-okay-with-this. they sneer that in their time, kids just got hurt. which is great for them, but i don't feel it's particularly necessary to willfully allow children to break bones just to "build character". the kids do just fine when i do my job right. i make sure, to the best of my ability, that they don't break the bone. it turns out you can still learn life lessons without trauma. yes, at some point they'll get hurt. that's the nature of it. but i like to try to keep it to a minimum of bloodshed.

about five years ago, in the middle of my summer training, the cop that came in to prepare us for mass shootings actually happened to be the same cop that used to be my DARE officer. what a small world! his hair had gone grey.

before working with children, i had no idea how many things a child can hurt themselves on. i had never thought about the possibility that a child could climb a bookshelf, only for that bookshelf to topple over. everything has to be screwed down. nothing can have particularly sharp corners - what if a child falls backwards onto it? - or be particularly breakable. no plastic bags or choking hazards. watch out for allergens, do your best to clean your super-gross classroom with all-natural (and expensive) fragrance-free products. there's a million other considerations, most of which are difficult on a public school budget. i hate the calculation - either the kids get a new playground 5 years from now OR they get new books now and just risk the tetanus.

the gun is not included in the paycheck.

we do our best, you know? but like, there's the rest of the actual job to do. we're neither trained, paid, or aided in our one-person quest to somehow get jason to stop giving himself splinters. and besides, we have the 98 other things to consider for our 30 other students. one of which is, you know, teaching them.

the children aren't prisoners. we need to walk this incredibly fine line of "chaotic exploration" and "reckless endangerment." to be frank - they're gonna do stupid shit and get hurt while they do the stupid shit. it's my job to at least try to predict the stupid shit, and minimize the risk. and before you judge the kids - i'm going to remind you that adults die every year from shaking vending machines. people just do stupid shit.

did you know that the leading cause of childhood deaths in america is to guns? we're the only country in the world with that statistic. it used to be motor vehicles, which is why there are so many laws about seatbelts, air bags, babyseats, and other protections against accidents. 1 in 5 childhood deaths will be a result of guns. of these deaths, 65% are the result of an intentional attack.

my brother often takes me to archery. i fucking suck at archery, because i have no aim, bad eyesight, and no grip strength. it's fun, though! as a teacher, archery at my school is super banned, because kids could get hurt. no throwing rocks or sticks. no impromptu self-made bows or arrows, oh my god, why do we keep having to have this conversation.

i remember this one conversation with a parent. he was chatting with me during pick-up and mentioned that kinder eggs being banned is so stupid, because, like, if a kid is gonna choke - they kind of "deserved it" for being so stupid. without thinking, my response was, "we don't typically practice darwinism at school, but you can encourage that at home if you wish!" which did result in me getting written up - for "talking back", i guess.

but his idea isn't unusual, is the thing. there's this sense that there's somehow almost an "expendable" child trauma rate. that it weeds out the weak or whatever, which is categorically cruel & dehumanizing. children should be able to mess up and have fun and - again - do stupid shit. they might get hurt, yes. but the job of the adult is to just go help the kid.

i had to quit teaching. i was really, really good at my job - 15 years of practice. but i would wake up at night, coating in sweat. trying to figure out how to bullet-proof my public school classroom with a public school budget.

bad things happen. in every other category: we try to prevent them.

[empressdede]

Me, U & Jealousy - Chapter 1

Chapter One

“We’ll have Kayla give you the run around with how everything should be set up and she’ll help you get things going. Congratulations on your first day, good luck.” Eddie, a backstage producer had told me before walking off.

I was just hired on as an interviewer for WWE and I couldn’t really say I was that excited. Although this is a big opportunity for me, there was a couple people from my past who were here that I wish I could’ve left in the past.

But when my best friend, Jada, told me about the opportunity, I couldn’t let it slip through my fingers.

“I know it may seem scary but once you get acquainted with everyone, it’ll be easier for you.” Kayla starts as she takes over the tour. “Everyone here is very nice, so don’t be intimidated so easily.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head at her. “Kayla I don’t think there’s a person here who can intimidate me. I don’t frighten easy.” It was true though. No matter how big, tall or muscular someone could be, it didn’t phase me at all. Not even a little bit.

Kayla laughed right back, “Okay, Good. I know most people come in and they’re so afraid to mess up because they work for such a big company; but I think you have enough confidence to do a great job.”

“Thank you Kayla, that really means a lot coming from you.”

“No problem girl. We’ll go around and introduce you to everyone backstage so that you can-“

“I know that ain’t who I think it is!” A voice called out from afar, and I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. So much for keeping them in the past.

Kayla and I turned around to watched the entire bloodline walk up to us. Unfortunately I grew up with these fools, our parents were close and they always had us hanging out together. The Uso brothers and Roman were older so they didn’t hang out with me as much as their little brother did.

“We heard you was coming, but we thought Ma was just talking just to talk. Damn, look at lil Sorai.” Jonathon teased as he pulled me into a hug.

I gave him the hug in return but kept it short, pulling away from him. “I’m not lil Sorai, I’m grown now Jon.”

Joshua threw his arm around my neck to pull me into a hug as well. “She think cause she gain a lil weight she grown.” Josh laughed and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m a grown women, thank you.” I stated, pulling back from that hug as well. “I pay big girl bills now just like the rest of em.”

“Don’t think just cause you ‘grown’ you think you can walk around doing whatever. Joe on a mission to keep that whole locker room away from you.” Josh stated, throwing quotations around the word ‘grown’ as if it meant nothing to him.

And in reality, it probably didn’t. Seeing these boys did nothing but push those big brother instincts that they had over me back in high school.

They would run everyone away from me if they could. No boy stood a chance against these boys, and I wasn’t about to let them repeat my high school life all over again.

“Guys, Its been a couple of year. Don’t you think it’s time to drop this big brother act already? I mean We’re all grown now.”

It was Joe who spoke up this time. “Grown? You think she look grown Josh?”

“Nah not even a little bit, what about you Uce?” Josh asked, turning to his twin.

“Still look like the same lil Sorai from the playground. Ain’t that right Solo?” Jon asked his little brother.

Solo stared at me with the most intense look in his eyes before answering his brother. “Yeah, same lil Sorai from the playground.” He agreed, a small smirk on his face.

Solo fucking Sikoa. Damn I couldn’t stand him. Ever since we were kids, he would always teased me about every little thing and made sure to irritate my last nerve just to get a laugh. But it wouldn’t be like that this time around, I’m gonna make sure of that.

“I see you still can’t stand up for yourself Sefa. Guess some things never change.”

“It’s Solo.” He tried to correct but I shrugged him off turning to Kayla who looked amused from the whole interaction.

“Kayla, these fools are my wanna be brothers who tried to scare everyone away from me back in high school.” I stated, giving her the history of how I knew them.

“We don’t try to do nothing. We’ve successfully ran every lame away from lil Sorai because she don’t got time for heart break.” Jon bragged which caused me to roll my eyes.

“It’s a little too late for that. Listen as much as I would love to play catch up, Me and Kayla got things to do and I won’t be caught slacking on my first day. “ I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction of the group of boys to follow Kayla to wherever she had to take me.

“Aye Kayla, when y’all finish up bring her to our locker room so she can know where its at. That way we can play catch up!” Jonathan called out. Kayla let out a shout of agreement with a playful smirk on her face as we continued down the hall.

“So,” Kayla started as soon as we were out of earshot. “Wanna tell me the history behind that?” She asked teasingly.

Oh Lord.

_____________________________________________

Let me know watchu guys think so far. Gimme some love though😭🫶🏾 like, comment and repost

[strawberryspence]

They both have different stories when asked, “When did you first meet?”

Steve says it was in school, along the hallways with freshman Steve Harrington and sophomore Eddie Munson locking eyes for the first time. Eddie says it was in a party, drinking beer and selling drugs, a transaction.

Wayne Munson knows the truth. The truth that way before monsters, way before creatures from games came true, way before the end of the world, way before everything, that Eddie and Steve have already met.

Wayne remembers that day so clearly. A social worker coming to his work in the middle of the day looking for him. Something about Wayne being the closest relative, about his brother going to jail and his mother running away.

Eddie's been living alone for two weeks. Two weeks. Cooking and cleaning for himself, the only reason it got suspicious is because he didn't go to school and one of his teachers called home.

He watches as Eddie swings himself at the empty playground. He brought Eddie here because— where do you bring children? Playgrounds are perfect right? He doesn't have the slightest idea as to what he's doing.

Sometimes in the morning, Wayne doesn't even have clothes to wear because he forgot to do the laundry. It's the same reason he doesn't have a wife and children. If he can't take care of himself, how could he take care of a whole other human being?

Out of nowhere, there's a kid running to the playground. Stopping just in front of Eddie and introducing himself with a bright smile.

His nephew stares at the boy for a few seconds before answering, "Hi, I am Eddie."

Wayne listens to them chatter for a few more minutes, before the boy asks if Eddie wants to be pushed.

Eddie's still giving the other boy a look of disbelief, before he finally says yes.

The boy's guardian sits beside Wayne. She looks better off, with an expensive looking coat and purse. But there's a warm, comforting smile on her face.

She turns to Wayne, “Is that your son?”

Wayne turns to her, pursing his lips, “I— Yes— No— It’s complicated.” He sighs. He doesn't even know what Eddie is to him now. “He’s my nephew. I just got custody of him today.”

“Oh.” The woman breathes out. Wayne turns back to the kids, Eddie's laughing now and it's music to his ears.

Wayne spills his heart to the random stranger, some part of his heart knowing that it will be safe with her.

“I don’t know what I am doing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child.” Wayne starts, “But he’s never got a good home and I want to give that to him.”

She smiles at him, "Just the fact that you want to give him a good home is telling me that you’ll be just fine. Don’t overthink it, life’s too short for that.”

It hits Wayne straight to his chest. He still doesn't know what exactly to do, but he feels better knowing that he has a chance to give Eddie the home he deserves.

“Thank you.” Wayne says, smiling at the woman as they watch the kids giggle and play.

“Steve’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

She beams back at him, answering without missing a beat, “Yeah, he’s my boy. Not my son, just my nephew. But I love him like he’s mine.”

Oh. Well, isn't that just perfect? Wayne softens and thinks— huh— she does understand.

When the time comes, Wayne watches as Eddie says a tearful goodbye with the other boy. There's daisies in his hair, like it grows right with his hair and Eddie has one tucked between his ears. It's intimate, the picture perfect to describe puppy love.

Eddie stands and waves at the boy's moving car, until he can't even see it anymore. And then, Eddie looks at him, "Where do I go now?"

Wayne stoops on his knees to see him eye to eye, "You're coming home with me. But before that we're gonna go get some milkshakes, does that sound good with you, Ed?"

Eddie looks at him curiously, brown eyes staring at him, "Do you have money for that?"

It floors Wayne, how grown up this child is. Eddie deserves to know nothing about this. In his age, he should be thinking about playing and making friends and being a child. No, Eddie is concerned if Wayne has enough money for a fucking milkshake.

"Of course, I have money for that, Ed!" Wayne laughs, patting his head. He stands, hoping it'll hide the pain in his eyes.

"Okay." Eddie answers. Wayne offers his hand for him to take, Eddie stares at it.

"Let's go?" Wayne asks, and Eddie nods, finally taking his hand, "Let's go."

From that day on, Wayne swears to protect Eddie, give him the home he deserves. He changes his shift to the evening one so he can stay home with him, gave him his room so he can have the privacy he deserves. Wayne loves Eddie like he's his own.

Even when Eddie finally comes out, that love didn't falter, "Hey, Wayne?"

Wayne turns to him. Eddie's bigger now, curly hair growing into longer wisps. He's wearing a vest with patches, they sewed it together months ago. "Yeah?"

"Remember that boy? In the playground with daisies in his hair? The day you took me home?" Wayne hums, nodding.

Eddie stares at him, arms crossed like a shield, "Yeah, he was my first love."

Wayne blinks at him.

"And I think— well— I know. I am gay."

Wayne nods, "Alright."

He turns to turn off the stove. Sits down and talks to Eddie, makes sure he knows that he can't be out because it's too dangerous, makes sure he knows that there's nothing wrong with loving another man.

And at the end of the night, Wayne tucks him in, just before he goes to work, kisses his forehead and says him, "I love you, Ed. Nothing will ever change that."

-

It's not until years later that he sees the boy from the playground again. Wayne's pretty sure he saw him in a few of the local papers, but he wasn't really sure, the pictures are too blurry, too small.

But this— this is the clearest picture Wayne has ever seen and he's damn sure that the boy sleeping beside Eddie's hospital bed is the boy with the daisies.

Wayne coughs, and the boy immediately springs back to life. It's odd. It's the same boy, only older. But there's so much weariness in his eyes, the same look Wayne has seen on war veterans. He still has brown hair, smooth and golden.

Eddie wakes up right after him, eyes bleary, with a small smile as soon as he sees him, "Uncle Wayne. I love you."

It's the first thing Eddie's said to him after a week of missing. Wayne chokes with tears. He moves closer to hug Eddie, tears in his eyes.

There was a time that he thought he'd never be able to do this again, that this was the end. Wayne was ready to burn this whole town, the whole world even, for whatever they've been doing to his pure, innocent nephew.

But he's here, alive and awake in front of Wayne and he thinks he can finally, finally breathe again.

"Never do that to me again, Ed. Never."

Eddie chuckles, "Alright. I promise."

"I love you too, okay?" Eddie nods.

They separate and for a few solid seconds, they all just stare at each other before Eddie speaks again, "Oh, uhm, Uncle Wayne, this is Steve. Steve, this is my Uncle Wayne."

Steve immediately stands up, shaking his hand earnestly. Wayne stares at Eddie, waits for any indication that he knows, remembers that this boy was his first love.

Nothing.

Nada.

After breaking every NDA he signed and telling Wayne every little tidbit of his crazy week, Eddie finally falls asleep again with the help of a handful of drugs.

Wayne takes his chance, just before Steve goes to go and check on their other friend, the Mayfield kid.

"Hey, kid?" Steve stops on his tracks, before facing him.

"Sir?"

Wayne scoffs, "None of that Sir stuff. Wayne would do. I just have a question."

"What is it, si— Wayne?" Steve blinks at him, lips pursing at the obvious mistake.

"Do you have an aunt?" Steve looks visibly taken back, eyes widening.

"Yes. I have." He blanches, "I did."

Oh. Oh, no.

"You did?" Wayne asks; he knows what the answer is but he still wants to know what happened to that woman from the playground that day. The same one that he still thinks of when he has a tough time.

Wayne has always thought that they'll meet again someday, that he'll get to thank her for that one conversation. He missed his chance.

"She died when I was a kid. Cancer." Steve answers, his voice quivering for a split second, "Why do you ask? Did you know her?"

Wayne shakes his head, "No. I don't think so. You just reminded me of someone, and guess I got it wrong."

Steve nods his head, accepting his answer wholeheartedly, "Goodnight, Wayne."

And Wayne watches, as the door closes shut behind Steve, "Goodnight, daisy boy."

-

Steve and Eddie, Wayne thinks, are utter idiots.

First, they dance together for ages before they finally get their act together and date. Wayne might've as well held a white poster paper with "KISS" written on it behind them.

Second, they fight over when they first meet and none of them are even right. Wayne is exhausted, listening to them argue about it day and night.

Third, they're blind. Literally blind.

The day of their wedding, Wayne hoped that the two boys would finally realize that they've met that day on the park. He asked that nice girl, Nancy, to pick some daisies and to put it on Steve's hair for the ceremony. While, Wayne went out to pick one to tuck behind Eddie's ear.

As Wayne watched as the two boys proclaim their love for each other in front of their family, with daisies tucked in their hairs just like the day they first met; he's overcome with the feeling of joy and happiness over the fact that the two boys still found each other even after everything.

It's ridiculous watching them not recognize each other, so Wayne finally decided to end their (his) misery.

Eddie clinks a glass with a fork, "Uncle Wayne! Speech!" There's a flurry of clinking before Wayne finally stands up.

"Alright, alright. I'll do it." They laugh, putting down their glasses.

It's a small backyard wedding. The Hopper-Byers has decked the yard with bright lights that brightened the whole night. In the middle, there's one long table to fit all of them. On the end of the table, side-by-side, is Eddie and Steve.

"Alright, I have a confession to make." Everyone straightens up in anticipation.

"I know it's been a running debate between Steve and Eddie, as to who's right about where and when they first met." Wayne can hear Eddie saying, "It's me obviously!"

"Settle down, boy." Wayne says, making them laugh.

"The truth is they're both wrong. You both have been very blind to the truth." Eddie makes an appalled noise as Steve laughs.

"The truth is I know when they first met." Eddie squints at him, confused. Steve whispers something to his ear that Eddie answers with a shrug.

"Steve and Eddie first met as kids. It was the same day I got custody of Eddie. I bought him to the park after that, let him play, you know? Out of no where, this kid—" Wayne chuckles.

"This kid comes up to Eddie, introduces himself and asks if Eddie wants to be pushed. His aunt— his aunt was very kind to me even though I was a complete stranger spilling my guts out to her."

"When it was time to leave, Eddie says goodbye to this kid, and it was so intimate. I remember thinking it was the perfect picture for puppy love. The boy goes home with daisies tucked in his hair, while Eddie goes home with one in his ear."

"It's not until years later, when Eddie came out to me that he tells me that the same boy with the daisies was his first love. And it's not until a few more years later after that, when I first meet the daisy boy again, sleeping beside Eddie's bed in the hospital."

Wayne turns to Steve and Eddie, there's pure surprise in their faces as they watch and listen to Wayne's speech.

"I could never really forget about that day and that boy. The way he made my nephew happy on one of the worst days of his lives. And now, he gets to make Eddie happy for the rest of their lives." Wayne sniffs, hiding it with a fake cough.

"Love is iffy." Wayne says, causing everyone to chuckle, "But what you guys have? It's been set into stone way before you knew each other. That's as true as love can ever be and I hope you nurture and care for it for the rest of your lives."

There's no dry eye in the yard. Wayne's heart is full and content, because he's sure that his son will be happy and taken care for, for the rest of their lives.

Wayne raises his glass,

"A toast to the daisy boys."

-

→ Annalyn's POV | BONUS

(thank you for the overwhelming love for Annalyn's POV! i am so glad y'all liked it. 💗)

TAGS: @7-starboi @emly03 @a-new-kind-of-blue @leather-and-freckles @tiny-enthusiast @cherrycolas-things @the-redthread @lady-silkwing @ancielsol @sunshine1066 @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @makewavesandwar @hunterbow04 @resident-gay-bitch @swimmingbirdrunningrock @bidisastersworld

[the-ace-with-spades]

(an unfinished post I found as I scrolled through my drafts on the train to glasgow. putting it out there as i feel... something rn)

Whenever I think of Mav and Ice as Bradley's parents/parental figures, no matter what the scenario is, I always imagine that Ice is the softer one and Mav is the stricter one.

No matter whether the child acquisition happens when Bradley is in elementary school or when he's a teenager, I think Mav would already be more used to parenting Bradley, even if he'd never call it that, simply because I can't imagine him not helping Carole throughout the years. I imagine he's seen Bradley's first tantrums and was the one Carole called whenever Bradley was acting out, or whenever she felt like Bradley needed a 'man's hand' regarding issues with boys at school or was about to hit the big milestones like learning to ride a bike or start school or outgrow the car seat or anything that she felt she would be too emotional about to keep Bradley's confidence up. They'd always come to pick Mav up from deployment and would be at all of Mav's ceremonies and big events and it all worked in both ways --- Mav was a parent and Carole and Bradley were his family. He'd never call himself a dad, not even when Bradley started sometimes calling him that whenever explaining to the other kids that he's 'kinda like his dad' and Carole said it was okay, but he was a parent.

For a while after Bradley moves in with them, Ice is stuck in the fun uncle mode because that's who he was before. Carole called Mav whenever she needed help with parenting issues, and Ice was there when no one was available --- to watch Bradley when Mav and Carole were at PTA, or take him to the beach with Slider when Carole and Mav were at work on a Saturday, or to buy Bradley way too many birthday presents despite their protests. He's not here for discipline or to manage the tantrums or to guide Bradley from a toddler to a kid to a teenager to a young adult --- he's here to spoil him in ways Mav or Carole can't.

Even when Carole falls ill and he takes more responsibilities around Bradley, he's still managing them in the 'fun uncle' mode. He picks up Bradley from school and takes him out to eat junk food or out for ice cream, or takes him to baseball practice and ends up buying him a whole new set of equipment on the way, lets him stay up late and lets him eat too much sugar and then takes him out to the playground despite misbehaving and unfinished homework so Bradley can get rid of the energy.

When Carole passes away, it gets to the point where Mav has to have a talk with him.

When it became clear Carole wasn't going to make it, Mav and Carole sorted out her will, including Bradley's care. Mav had a whole breakdown about it, far away from Bradley's eyes, and when he told Ice he didn't know how he was going to do it all alone, Ice promised he wouldn't have to, that they would do it together.

But Carole passes away and Bradley starts acting out, like most grieving kids, and Ice is still stuck in the 'fun uncle' mode. He doesn't know what to do when Bradley sulks after school, or refuses to go to school in the morning, or refuses to eat what they made for dinner, or when he doesn't want to sleep alone, or 'forgets' to pack his backpack. He just---stands there and observes as Bradley gets chewed up by Mav. Or Bradley gets sent to his room to go and finally do his homework after the third time he comes back with a warning from his teacher and Ice can't get his sad face out of his mind and sneaks into his room and maybe helps him a bit too much with said homework. When Bradley doesn't want to eat the dinner he's cooked, even though he asked him three times what he'd want before he started cooking, he caves in and orders takeouts despite spending nearly two hours in the kitchen.

Mav is tired. He doesn't like being the bad guy all the time, he can't do everything either, and Ice disregarding any sort of discipline or change he tries to implement is not helping at all.

"You can't be the fun uncle anymore," is what Mav tells him. "I need you to be his parent, with me. I can't have you both working against me."

The thing is, Ice's never expected to be a parent. He realized he's gay since he was about fifteen and knew that if he ever married, it'd be a levander marriage, with a wife he'd never touch and probably divorce fast enough that the lack of kids would be understandable. He hasn't been around many kids either, mostly isolated throughout most of his childhood, certainly not enough to see healthy parenting in place. As a kid himself, he was mostly self-sufficient, with his mom dead and his father absent or disapproving most of the time. It's the only thing that got stuck with him when he's around Bradley --- he never wants the kid to feel alone or like he's doing something wrong just because the adults are not appropriative of it. He sees himself in Bradley whenever he looks upset when they tell him what to do or when they punish him for misbehaviour or when he simply doesn't know how to make it better for him. Spoiling Bradley is so much easier than denying him anything or even negotiating a compromise for him.

Mav might have been like Bradley in a lot of ways, but his mom never had a family friend that could take on a parental role for him --- he had to fill the void his dad left in their family from a very young age. When he entered foster care when she passed, he didn't have many options. It was either misbehaving and ruining his life before it started with a suspended sentence or an accident or pulling himself together. In some foster families it was misbehaving and not eating or walking around with a black eye or behaving and staying above the water line until they would relocate him again. He knew what discipline was and he met many many parental figures he could learn from, both bad and good stuff. He's met kids that were older than him and then became them and met kids younger than him. Learned tricks and things that work for certain development stages, learned parenting can't just be soft if he wanted to keep the kid alive and healthy.

So Ice starts to learn, slowly. Saying no is still really hard, but he starts negotiating and asking for things. Starts telling Bradley to do things he doesn't like. Sometimes he helps him do those things, but doesn't do them for him anymore, not from start to finish anyway. He tells Bradley Mav is right and he should listen to him, explains why he's right whenever Bradley talks back when Mav chews him out. He starts getting a grip on the things parents are supposed to be there to make sure that are happening --- homework, food, cleaning Bradley's room, making sure the kid is showering and sleeping, wearing clean clothes, managing tantrums and outbursts in a way that is different than caving in and leaving Bradley to deal with them alone. They become a team again, Ice as Mav's wingman in the whole parenting gig.

Mav starts to breathe again.

Eventually, Bradley grows out of the grieving phase. He's still a teenager, but Ice likes to think they did an alright job sorting him out. He's a sensitive kid, still, and Ice likes to think Bradley knows it's okay, that they love him no matter what. He likes to remind himself that the instances when Bradley makes puppy eyes at them to ask for a new guitar or for extra money for a theater or when he just crawled between them on the couch or the moments when he rumbles on about some asshole from his class freely as he peels potatoes for Ice --- he reminds himself Bradley feels loved enough to not feel like those moments are a burden on them. Reminds himself he's not only alive and healthy, but also happy and they made sure of that.

When Bradley calls Mav dad for the first time and Mav is mortified, Ice finds himself jealous. For the first time in his life, he realizes he wants to be a dad. Then he realizes he wants to be Bradley's dad and he feels equally mortified as Mav. Neither of them was ever supposed to be Bradley's dad.

Ice is still a bit softer. It's not that Mav can't be fun --- he can tease the kid, play around with him, take him on outings and places that Bradley enjoys more than anything. He is the one who takes him flying for the first time and the one that screams at his matches, and the one who teases Bradley relentlessly as he helps him prepare for his first date. But Ice gives in a bit more easily, let's Bradley make the choices a bit more freely as he grows up.

They both hover but in different ways --- Mav is always, always kind of around, trying to protect Bradley from anything he can, especially as the years go on and he realises how much shit teenagers get into. Ice likes to think Bradley is sensible and that even if something happened, he knows he can count on them and would let them help him if need be.

Mav watches like a hawk as if Bradley could ruin his life with one wrong move and tried to predict if it will happen at any given moment. Ice isn't stupid, he knows Bradley is going to fuck up time and again, everyone does. But unlike Mav, he doesn't want him to have a perfect, unproblematic life. He wants him to feel safe and loved enough that no problem would seem too big or irreversible.

[pattypanini]

Jake Kiszka x Reader

Moonlit Waters

Summary: A short run after a long day turns out to be more than you'd bargained for.

Word Count: 5k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is @mar-rein12 and I's first Jake oneshot. Marley has been fiending for Jake, much like most sane people, so we wanted to write a little Jake oneshot. Enjoy our first Jake oneshot, Moonlit Waters.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, penetrative sex, fingering, praise, dirty talk, slight submissive/dom, flirting, choking, slapping, public sex, skinny dipping

Y/N's POV

Today was such a long day. The kids at school were extra wound up. You thought that after a lengthy math lesson your students would be able to calm down for snack time. You were very much wrong. Just when you sat down at your desk to indulge in your pretzels, you heard a blood-curdling scream from the back of the classroom. 

You perked up from your chair to see what was the matter. Turns out one of the kids convinced another kid that a taki was a strawberry flavored candy. He ended up crying and working himself up so much that he threw up. Just after you had finally calmed down from that situation, you brought out a spring craft to entertain the kids. That didn’t last too long after one of your students got glue stuck in another girl’s hair. You spent half an hour trying to wash the glue out from her hair in the classroom bathroom. On top of all of that, you were drowning in lesson plans and working to finish grading last week's spelling test. You were spent. 

When you finally walk through your front door, you immediately collapse on the couch and take a few minutes to reflect on your day. You thought about your plans for the rest of the evening and realized you had nothing on your plate. You decide that going on a run would be really good for you right now. You pick yourself up from the couch and make your way upstairs to your bedroom. You skim through your athletic sets and decide on a white sports bra and biker shorts matching set. After sliding on your white socks and hot pink Hokas you toss your hair up into a slicked back ponytail and head downstairs. 

You walk out onto your porch and start a running workout on your apple watch. You opt to not bring any water, considering you were just going on a short little run. As you take your normal route you pass by the playground where you sometimes see your students, but after today you decided to just keep running and not make any confrontation. Your adrenaline takes over and you don’t even remember making it to a mile. You take a cut to the left and find a tree to take a breather under. You had been working on your speed so you weren’t worried about having to take a break. 

I wish I had some water.

Why wouldn’t you just bring your hydration pack? Your breathing was heavy. You turn towards the tree, putting your hands up to brace yourself and try to control yourself. As if your heart rate could not get higher you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

You turn around expecting it to be one of your students, but you’re met with the face of a very handsome man. He has big brown eyes and his chestnut locks were tied up in a bun. But the thing that was most apparent to you was his shirtless body. He was toned and muscular in all the right places, and the sheen of sweat over him made you go crazy. 

“Are you okay?” The gorgeous man asks you, his tone laced with concern. 

You just stare back at him with wide eyes for a moment, before you open your mouth to speak. “Yeah… I’m okay. I think I just need some water.” He pulls a water bottle from a fanny pack that was tightly wrapped around his waist. You couldn’t help but stare at his v-line that traveled beneath his black lululemon running shorts. God, why did they have to fit him so perfectly.

He offers the water bottle out to you, you give him a skeptical look. 

“I promise there's nothing wrong with it, I haven't even opened it yet.” You accept the water bottle before taking a few large sips. 

“I needed that, thank you…” You trail off realizing you had never gotten his name.

“Jake.” He reaches a hand out to give you a shake.

“Y/n.” You smile, taking his hand in yours giving him a firm shake. “Well I should get back to my run, thank you for the water Jake.” You offer him a bright smile, turning away to start running again. 

“Wait-” He says before you could get far. “If you don’t mind, could I join you for your run? I promise I’ll keep up with you. I’ve seen you run around the neighborhood before, you're pretty fast.”

You were flattered. “Yeah of course. Do you wanna take my route?”

“Lead the way.” You begin your run with Jake and take him back the way you came. You begin talking with him as you make it back down the sidewalks. You learn that he is new to the area and that he only lives a street down from you. He is kind and very musically talented. He talked about how he's in a band with his brothers and best friend and actually showed you a few songs after you begged to hear them. 

As you pass by the playground for the second time today you hear a loud noise coming from the swings. 

“MISS Y/L/N.” A student of yours screams while being pushed on the swings. 

“Hi Lily.” You send her a bright smile and a wave to her mom. 

“Is that your boyfriend Miss y/l/n?” 

Oh god, this is embarrassing.

“Nope, just a new friend. I’ll see you on Monday.” You give her a warm smile, hoping she will hold off on the inappropriate questions.

As you continue your run, you turn into Jake, giving him an apologetic look. “Sorry about that, kids can be crazy. They always love to speak their mind.” A nervous giggle bubbles out of you.

“No worries, it was funny.” He lets out a laugh. A smile spreads across your face as you hear it. 

���

When you finally make it back to your house, you stand in your driveway. You turn to face him, not really knowing where to go from here.

“I like that route a lot. That was really fun. Thank you for letting me join you.” He shoots you a sweet smile and you can’t ignore the warm feeling in your chest.

“Of course! We should definitely run together more often. It’s nice to have someone who can… almost keep up.” You shoot him a dorky wink and begin to laugh. He joins in on the laughter and you feel honored to be a source of happiness for him.

He stops laughing and he looks… nervous? He looks like he’s thinking about something. “Jake, is everything okay?” You ask him out of concern.

“Yeah, yes. Everything is great actually. I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to get dinner with me tonight? I know it’s last minute and you probably have plans but there is this really good smoothie bowl place in downtown Nashville. Only like 20 minutes away.” He’s nervously pushing his hair back and you can’t help but get butterflies.

“Yes, I’d love to get dinner with you. What time?” 

“Oh okay great! How about I pick you up in an hour?” He says.

“Sounds good, can’t wait.” You start walking up the stairs leading to your front door and turn over your shoulder to smile at him.

You see him eyeing your body up and down. You’re happy you picked the set to wear that you did. You quickly run inside and start a shower. After washing up and shaving you hop out to pick an outfit. You don't want to be too fancy or too underdressed so you opt for a casual floral sundress that you often get compliments on. 

You look at the clock, realizing he will be here to pick you up any minute. You do some light makeup, consisting of only blush and mascara. Your cheeks were a little sunkissed from your run earlier, providing you with a natural glow. Usually, you would curl your hair but due to the time constraints you decide to just let your natural waves dry. 

You quickly run over to the window and see him pulling into the driveway. You scramble to put your beige sandals on and spray a quick spritz of perfume. After grabbing your purse you’re out the door and hurry out to his black Jeep, hopping in the passenger side. 

You were feeling a mix of emotions. It felt like a middle school date. You hadn’t been on a date in a really long time, not a real date at least. Since graduating college you had been busy with substituting and trying to get a job, and since getting one, dating was put on the back burner. 

“Hi Jake.” You lean over and give him a hug over the center console. 

“Hi Y/n, you look so beautiful.” You watch as his eyes trail over your body, his gaze lingering around your chest and traveling down to scan over your bare legs. You blush under his stare. He starts to back out of your driveway and you take the opportunity to admire him. He was wearing a black linen set, the shirt halfway unbuttoned showcasing his tanned chest and stomach. His silver chains resting against his skin in the most perfect contrast. 

You can tell he just showered as well, as the tips of his hair are still wet. His cologne wafts through the air in a clean, woodsy scent. 

“You’re too sweet, you look pretty handsome yourself Mr.Guitarist.” He cracks a smile at the nickname. 

“Ahh, so you remembered, Miss.Y/l/n?” 

You feel your cheeks getting hotter as he continues to talk to you, being flustered by the name he just called you. When your students call you it reminds you of school and all your responsibilities. But when Jake calls you it, it's so incredibly sexy. 

“Why you blushing y/n, I barely said anything?” He props one arm on the center console, opting to drive with only one hand which makes your stomach do a flip. 

“I don’t know, I’m a little nervous. I haven't been on a date with an attractive man in a while.” Your comment makes Jake giggle, making you realize what you just said. “I mean- not that I assumed this was a date, you know just since you asked and…”

“Y/n. It’s a date. I’m happy to be able to spend my evening with such a gorgeous woman.” 

After driving the next 20 minutes with light chatter about running and listening to music you finally got to the cafe. You both hop out of the Jeep, Jake walking you up, making sure to hold the door for you on your way in. After looking at the menu you decide to get a classic banana bowl with granola and nutella, Jake opting for the strawberry banana bowl with granola and topped with assorted fruit. 

After a few moments of waiting your names are finally called. 

Jake makes his way over to the counter. “Anyway I could get these in a bag please? Thank you.” He turns back to you to continue your conversation at hand.

“Aren’t we eating here?” You ask, a little confused at his question. 

“I mean that would be a little boring. I have a place that I think we will both like a lot better. It’s where I take a lot of my runs.” Jake grabs the take out bag off the table and makes his way to the door. Once giving you a helping hand into his car you and Jake were on your way to the mystery location. After a short drive you pull off onto a dirt road that leads back to a large park with lots of hiking and running trails. 

“How have I never known about this?” You say as you hop out of the car.

“I don’t know but it’s really amazing. If you don’t mind a small walk I wanna take you to a really pretty spot. No one will bother us there, it looks off onto a lake and always has the prettiest sunsets.” He says opening the trunk to pull out the folded up gingham picnic blanket. 

“I wouldn’t mind the walk at all.” You grab the bag of smoothie bowls and Jake quickly takes the bag from you, replacing it with his own hand. You really liked how confident he was, always so sure of himself. As he leads you up a small path and around a few curves you finally make it to a hidden space behind a line of trees. It was just as he said. A small patch of land connected to a large lake outlooking into the sunset. It was perfect.

“Wow, Jake. This is just so-” 

“Beautiful?” He turns his head to look down at you, giving you the softest smile. 

“Yeah… yeah, I mean this is incredible.” You look out at the lake, the orange, pinks, and purples of the sky reflecting onto the clear water. 

Jake begins laying out the blanket on the grass before he takes a seat, the water only being a few feet away. 

“I brought a little surprise.” He looks at you with a mischievous grin, as you sit down on the blanket. You give him a questioning look, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Reallyyy…” You crawl over to him on the blanket, wanting to be as close as you possibly could to him. He just has such a magnetic pull, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with another man. 

“It’s nothing special, just a little something…” He was teasing you now. You give him a certain look as if to say ‘get on with the surprise’. He giggles a little and pulls a green bottle of wine from a bag you didn’t even notice he had grabbed when leaving the car. 

A warm smile spreads across your face at his sweet gesture. “Jake, this is perfect. This is my favorite white wine too, but I don’t buy it very often because of the price. How did you know?” Your smile morphs into a smirk as he hands you the bottle allowing you to inspect it. 

“Just a lucky guess, I suppose. I did forget glasses though.” He looks a little… embarrassed?

“Hmm, well, nothing wrong with drinking it straight from the bottle, am I right?” Your words cause a whole-hearted chuckle to erupt from his chest.

“Nothing wrong with that at all, darling.” There it is again, those goddamn butterflies. Slow your roll, y/n. You just met him today. He reaches into his bag again, pulling out a corkscrew and taking the bottle from your hands. “Let me open this for you.” He pops the cork with ease and immediately takes a large sip of it. “Mmm, that’s some good stuff.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and hands the bottle over to you, willing you to take a sip. 

You take the bottle, as Jake watches you intently. A newfound confidence surges through you under his gaze, you decide to give him a little bit of a show. You wrap your lips around the rim, making sure to keep eye contact with Jake. You tilt your head back, taking a larger sip than you’d like to admit. You wipe your chest of the wine you spilt. You look back at Jake, he reaches for your chin and wipes your chin clean. 

“So y/n, tell me some more about yourself.” He grabs the bowls and opens them for you, ready to hear whatever you have to say. 

As your night went on and the bottle of wine was polished off, you and Jake knew almost everything about each other. About each other's childhood, jobs, exes, and everything in between. The sun went down and the temperature became chilly.  You never want the night to end. As Jake stares up into the starry sky you admire his profile. His perfect nose, lips, jawline. The way his hair sprawled around his face on the blanket. You were, no doubt, feeling a little fuzzy from the wine. 

“Hey y/n, do you wanna do something fun?” He sits up on his elbow, looking into your eyes. 

“What do you have in mind?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, now. 

“Well usually at this point no one is here. A few people are walking the main track but nothing near here. You wanna skinny dip?” He smirks up to you, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Oh,” You can feel the blush rise to your cheeks at his suggestion, “Yes, let's do it.” You are very excited, but also a little nervous. It has been months since any man has seen you naked. You can’t lie though, after seeing Jake in those tiny running shorts you were wondering what else he had to offer. You stand up off the blanket and look around making sure no one is around. As you grab the bottom of your dress you realize Jake is still looking at you. 

“Uh Jake could you-”

“Oh yes sorry.” He flips himself over so he is face down on his stomach. You giggle and pull the dress above your head. After removing your bra and panties, dropping them onto the blanket in a little pile you make your way into the cool water. When Jake heard the water move behind him, he flipped himself back over and rid himself of his clothing in a blink of an eye. He ran into the lake and dove towards the deeper water, splashing you in the process. Normally something like this would turn you off, but you admire how he is mature yet can still have a playful side to himself.

You were unable to get a good look at him just yet, the anticipation absolutely killing you. You swim your way over to him, there was that magnetic pull again. You stop a couple feet in front of him, “So, skinny dipping? What gave you that idea Mr. Guitarist?” 

“I mean would it be bad to say staring at you all night gave me the idea. I mean you are so gorgeous, plus I didn’t want the night to end just yet.” He reaches towards you, grabbing your hands to hold them. The feeling in your core was becoming more prevalent, more than you’d expect. You move his hands to your hips, allowing him access to touch you. With this newly granted privilege Jake pulls you closer to him, so you both are less than a few inches apart.

“You know, you looked breathtaking in that running set today. White is definitely your color.” He speaks lowly into your ear.

“Thank you Jake, your hair looks very good in the bun.”

“Thanks Ms. Y/L/N. I know I haven’t seen you naked yet, but I just know every bit of you is perfect.”

“Yet? What are you insinuating Jake? How sick of you to assume such a thing.” You giggle at your own words, hoping he is enjoying the teasing as much as you are. 

“Oh darling, don’t act like you haven’t been eyeing me up all day. Playing with the skirt of your dress and pulling it up your thigh when we were laying over there. Messing with my hair. You’ve been such a tease all evening. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want it.”

“I don’t have to say shit to you.” You smirk at him, trailing your hand up his back to yank his hair, allowing you to look him dead in the eyes. He lets out a short and quiet groan as his hands massage over your hips, traveling dangerously close to your heat.

“Tell me y/n, do you want it or not.” He leans down kissing your neck softly. 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” You release your grip from his hair, and grab onto his hand. He gives you a questioning look before you move his hand to gently rest on your tit. 

“Maybe I do, but I wanna hear you say it.” He squeezes your tits harder.

“Fine, yes I want you, I want you badly. Now are you going to do something about it or not.”

With no time to wait Jake's mouth connects to yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth, both of you fighting for dominance. You allow your hands to travel down his sides and the tops of his thighs, quickly remembering he was completely bare. Jake breaks away from the heated kiss, grabbing your hips and lifting you out of the water. 

After carrying you back over to the blanket, he gently lays you down. You can’t help but feel laid out for him, completely vulnerable. You bring your arms over your chest, in an attempt to cover yourself up. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks you with furrowed brows. 

“What?”

“Covering yourself, I wanna see you darling.” He grabs your wrist, pulling your arms above your head. He takes a moment to admire your chest, a smirk spreads across his face. “Mmmm. See, I told you every bit of you is perfect and goddamn I was so right.” 

Jake leans forward attaching his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses down towards your chest. “Such perfect skin, I’d almost feel bad marking you up.” 

“Do it please, I wanna remember this night.” You bring your hands up to his head, tangling your fingers through his wet locks. 

Jake returns back down, sucking hard into your skin, leaving many purple marks across your chest. “It might look a little better with all these marks now darling.” Jake kisses each of the marks, soothing them each with his tongue. 

You’re pulled out of the heated moment when you remember anyone still out on the lake would without a doubt be able to see what the two of you were up to. “Um, Jake?” He releases his mouth from your chest as he looks up at you.

“What baby, Is everything okay?” He questions your sudden uneasiness, afraid of overstepping any of your boundaries. 

“The people out on the lake…” You trail off, suddenly hyper aware of the situation you were in. 

“What about them?” He smirks down at you.

“W-what if they see?” You bit down on your lip, anxiety building within you. 

“I hope they fucking do. I want them to see me fucking you senselessly, and hearing your pathetic little moans while you try to take my cock.”

“Hmm. Try?” You give him a challenging look and wrap your hand behind the back of his neck, pulling him down so your lips are by his ear. “Who said I couldn’t take your cock, hm?” 

“Oh, baby we will see about that.” He gives a quick kiss to your plump lips, in the most taunting, condescending way. 

“I’m a good girl, Jake. I take what’s given to me sooo well, but you wouldn’t know that because you’re being so goddamn slow. Just fuck me already.” You spit back at him, willing him to just do something, anything. 

“Keep being a fucking brat and you’ll be wishing you didn’t say that. You’ll get it when I say you can.” His hand snakes up to rest on your throat, his gripping slightly tightening. 

“Harder.” You watch him smirk, and just shake his head in disbelief. 

“Who knew we had a little freak on our hands. Tsk tsk.” He leans his head down to your ear now. “But if that's what the ‘good girl’ wants, it’s what she’ll get.” His grip tightens around your neck causing a whimper to escape from your lips. 

“Jake, fucking touch me. Please, baby, please. Need it so bad.” Sure, you sound desperate, but you most definitely are. 

“Well, since you begged me so pretty…” His hand traces its way down your chest and over your stomach to rest right over your center. He slides his fingers over your slit collecting the wetness pooling at your entrance. 

A loud whine escapes from you. He is barely even touching you yet, but the effects of the wine were causing you increased sensitivity. 

His touch moves up to your clit, rubbing gentle circles. You’re struggling to keep yourself composed, squirming and twisting underneath him. 

“Look at this pretty, little clit so swollen and sensitive for me. Who got you like this baby?”

“You- fuck. You do,” You are practically panting, legs shaking, head spinning. His touch is so addictive, you are sure you never want him to leave from in between your thighs. 

He takes your moment of hysteria to slip in a finger. You grip onto his biceps in attempt to ground yourself. To keep yourself as collected as you possibly can when the most attractive man, you may have ever seen, has his fingers deep in your pussy. 

He adds another finger, while also picking up speed. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching you. 

“You’re so wet, darling. My fingers are sliding in and out of this gorgeous pussy so easy, fuck.” He looks down at his fingers that are now drilling into you. 

“Oh god don’t stop Jake please I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah? Are you baby? You want me to get you there, make you feel so good and cum all over my fingers.” His lips connect with your hardened nipple, giving a harsh suck. 

His other hand that was once on your neck, trails down landing directly on your clit. With only a couple swirls and a few more pumps, you were unraveling beneath him. Moans and curses flying from your tongue and floating into the night air. Your body tenses up and then relaxes. 

His look of amazement and admiration was enough for you to gather the strength for the main event. 

“You cum so pretty darling. You ready for my cock now?” You quickly nod in response, unable to form any actual words. He lines himself up at your entrance and slowly slides himself inside you. 

“Oh God.” You whimper out, the stretch slightly painful yet so delicious. He stays there a few moments to allow you to adjust to his large size. 

“You gonna take my fat cock as well as you say?” He begins to move his hips, rather slowly at first.

“Mmm, yes baby. Anything for you, fuck.” You grip onto his ass coaxing him to go faster. 

“Aht,” He gives a swift smack to your clit, causing your body to recoil and eyes to roll back into your skull. “I’ll go at my own pace, thank you very much.” He continues on with his slow but deep thrusts. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir.” You watch his eyes darken from the name. You unknowingly hit his weak spot, causing him to speed up his pace. Taking notice of this change, you decide to have a little fun with him. “Sir, eh? That really get you going baby?” 

“You have no idea what you do to me, darling. You’re just so fucking sexy. Say it again.” He’s practically slamming into you now, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. 

“God you’re so deep, harder. Please sir, I’m begging.”

He takes long, deep thrusts inside of you. You were almost at your breaking point yet again. How he manages to do that to you so quickly, you were unsure. Must be magic in those fingers and cock of his. 

“So.” He gives you a particularly deep thrust. “Fucking.” Followed by another. “Tight.” He gives another, and quickly proceeds to piston in and out of your soaked core. 

“Oh my god Jake I’m gonna cum don’t stop.” You were gripping him so tight, he might have bruises tomorrow. 

“Cum baby, cum around my cock.” You feel the wave of pleasure wash over you, feeling that familiar tightness in your core. As Jake reaches his high you continue to take in all of him. 

“Cum in my mouth Jake, I wanna taste you so bad. Please, sir?”

“Oh fuck baby…” Jake pulls out of you, bringing his cock to your face. You grab his length, stroking him to his completion. 

His head falls back as an animalistic groan releases from inside him. “I’m cumming, holy shit.” You feel his liquids hit the back of your throat, the warmth and saltiness washing over your tastebuds. 

He pulls his cock out of your mouth, but you refuse to swallow it down just yet. You tap him on his thigh signaling him to look at your face. You open your mouth, allowing him to see his cum sitting there on your tongue. 

“Fuck…” Jake wipes a little from the corner of your mouth. Figuring you’d savored his flavor long enough, you swallow him down. 

He collapses beside you on the blanket, both of you attempting to catch your breath. 

“I would offer you a drink after that but we’re out of wine.” He giggles pulling you closer to him.\, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“That’s okay, I don’t mind the taste of you.” Jake chuckles, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. “Jake, can I ask you something?” You move to sit in an upright position. 

“If it’s I have any STDs, one no, and two you should have asked that before.” You laugh at his comment, appreciating his sense of humor. 

“Well, I wanted to know if you’d like to be running buddies? You know just every once and a while, having someone to run with was really fun today.”

“I would be honored darling.” He says, bringing a hand to his chest in awe. “Only if we get to do more than just running.”

“What are you implying Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, curiously. 

“I don’t know, maybe another date.” He looks out to the lake, avoiding your eyes at all cost.

“I would love another date, but I’m picking the restaurant next time.” You take his face into your hand, turning it back towards you.

“Anything you want, baby.” He presses a tender kiss onto your swollen lips. 

As you lay on the lakeside, wrapped up in each other's embrace you look out onto the lake taking in this moment on the moonlit waters. The only sound that could be heard was Jake’s finally calmed breathing and the chirping of the crickets in the distance. 

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Taglist: @peaceloveunitygvf @jordie-gvf @Gretavanhockey @Mama-likes7 @mar-rein12

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do the Jasper Trio ever catch any of the other Autobots in their holoforms? I assume they’d be able to quickly tell it’s them after finding out about Mr. Pax being Optimus. They’d be able to connect some of the weird behavior Mr. Pax had to the other Autobot holoforms (aka not breathing, not eating, not blinking)

They have, and every single time it's like a cryptid sighting.

Previous part here.

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The children were distantly aware of the fact that all the bots had holoforms and used them every now and then, but it wasn't exactly at the forefront of their minds all the time. They had better things to do than stare at strangers when around town on the off chance it would be one of the bots. But of course, much like with Optimus, they located the bots in their holoforms after a while.

Ratchet was the first bot they noticed and it was only by pure accident. June had gotten sick with a nasty cold and since Jack had to go to school, the nurse had asked Ratchet to go pick up some medicine for her. Ratchet, ever the dutiful doctor, took the money June gave him and sauntered over to the local pharmacy in his usual disguise. But not breathing or blinking tends to be a dead giveaway when combined with bright orange and white hair. The kids were walking by chatting away when suddenly Rafael stopped and stared. A hushed conversation later, Ratchet found himself swarmed.

"Ratchet is that you!?"

"Children, you should be back at base by now."

"You actually use your holoform??!"

"Why else would I have it if not to use it?"

Ratchet drove the kids to base after his little outing. Since that day he has known no peace now that the kids are well aware he can leave base, he just doesn't like to. He has been asked to take them to the playground or other locations more times than he cares to count. Unfortunately for Miko and Jack though, Rafael is far more adept at noticing holoforms than them. Despite their pleading, he refuses to tell them anything about the incidents where he met other bots in their holoforms one on one.

Arcee doesn't usually go out except on the odd night she travels around the cities of America doing vigilante business. But every now and then she will go with Bee to his gaming events just to observe. This in turn has led Rafael to run into and notice the duo dozens of times, usually just as they are about to leave. Once they know they have been spotted, Bee and Arcee have made it a game to vanish before Rafael can get to them. He finds it infuriating, they find it funny to watch him try to get to them as they parkour out the nearest window for the dramatics of it and because of how it amuses the children. They always drive him home afterwards in order to make it up to him.

Bulkhead was spotted by Jack one evening when he was on his way back from work on one of the few days Arcee couldn't come get him. Bulkhead was having a drink, or at least pretending to drink, with a few of his human construction worker friends. He was laughing and stood out starkly amongst the group. Jack hadn't been paying too much attention, but the big build, the strong jaw, and the ever so slightly glowing eyes had him pausing. He'd seen enough of Optimus's holoform to know the tell tale signs. And so having a ridiculous amount of confidence in his assumption, Jack waved to Bulkhead after tapping on the window. Bulkhead in turn waved back and it is now tradition for them to greet each other on the odd chance they pass by one another in the wild.

Wheeljack isn't around often, but his fanclub is very active. Miko sniffed out their Wrecker habits and creed immediately and has hounded them relentlessly in order to keep a lookout for Wheeljack's holoform. They think she is just a very enthusiastic Wheeljack fan. She is, but her main reason for being there is to get a picture of Wheeljack's holoform for her scrapbook. She has half the team in there already, but Wheeljack is a difficult one to track. Thus far she has only managed to get blurred images of him in large part due to the Wrecker knowing her game. She has continued to attempt to do increasingly bizarre things to hopefully get a sneaky photo.

The children firmly believed Ultra Magnus didn't have a holoform. They were proven wrong when he walked directly into school to pick them up after they got caught in a few too many incidents. At first they didn't recognize him, but the lack of breathing, blinking, or any natural twitching gave him away quickly. As they sat waiting to be released, they began to smile more than ever as soon as the glow of his eyes was noted. The poor mech was pestered the entire way to base as he drove the children back. Since then, whenever he comes to school to help Optimus with anything, he is greeted by a fond nickname.

"Magnus is in the house!"

"That's Ultra Magnus to you Miko."

"Who the heck names their kid Ultra?"

Smokescreen took a lot longer to be spotted, but when it happened, it was by far the most startling. Due to his tendency to mess with his holoform's appearance and to indulge in parkour, he usually isn't around or at least visible. But once while the kids were walking home, Smokescreen decided to tail them on the rooftops of the nearby buildings. His big mistake? He jumped directly into a wall while not paying enough attention and fell at least twenty feet to the ground. The kids of course saw and hurried over to assist or at least call 911. But instead they watched Smokescreen stand up, shoot them a set of finger guns, and take off up the building like spider man.

It wasn't hard to figure out it was him. He was mocked ruthlessly for crashing as soon as the kids got back to base.