#please me nice to me in the comments if there are any

[chiara81-4]

hey girlie!! could you do lando norris x reader pls🙏🙏🙏 i loved ur charles story and i want u to write one ab lando pls pls pls 🙏🙏 love u

a/n: hey love! of course! I've gotten a couple lando x reader requests so I will do my best to please everyone!

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forever and always - lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, brothers best friend trope, not proofread (sorry for any typos)

word count: i don't know LOL it's a lot.

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Age 11:

you had an older brother, he was talented since he was young. your parents dumped money into his racing career at a young age, leaving you alone. when it was your 11th birthday, your family went to watch your brother kart. since then you just kind of been there, until lando came along...

Age 14:

your brother came home one day, your parents surrounding him with kisses and hugs. you rolled your eyes, turning around and going to your room. a few hours had past and you heard lively chatter fill the dining room downstairs. you were confused. did a family member come to visit? you strolled your way down, walking into the dining room to find your eyes meeting an unfamiliar pair of green eyes. you furrow your brows, confused. "honey, this is lando" your mother smiled at you. "hey," he smiled. "hi, im y/n" you nervously said.

why were you so nervous? you avoided his gaze every chance you got, you went to sit down next to your brother, who was talking to lando about some karting race they had together. until the conversation fell to a weird silence. lando spoke up "its y/n, right?" he questions. "yeah its y/n" you smile faintly at him. he continues to talk "have you seen the new (movie) yet?"

"oh no i haven't. how about you?" you queer. "me either, we should go together just, you and me." a blush crept onto your face. "i mean, um, sure."

"great, meet me outside your house at 6pm" he smiled

"dude, ew that's my sister, no way you like her." your brother disgustingly looked at him. lando rolled his eyes and continued to smile at you.

-time skip-

the clock reads 5:30pm, only half an hour until lando picks you up and you're stressing. what are you going to wear? you put some light makeup on (you can change anything about the outfit, makeup etc :)) as well as some light blue jeans and a dark blue shirt. by the time you're content with your outfit you hear a knock on your door, you rush down the stairs to find your brother at the front door.

"i'm not sure about this y/n, hes my best friend." your brother says. "oh my god shut up (brothers name), grow up." you roll your eyes and walk out the front door, closing it in his face. you're met face to face with lando. who is wearing black jeans and a white shirt.

"wow, you look really nice y/n" he smiles. you smile back, thanking him as well as complimenting his outfit.

when you arrive at the movie theatre, lando buys the tickets and snacks. you argued (playfully) over who would be paying. "lando, just let me buy the popcorn, you bought the tickets." you say "never." he argues back.

once you guys grab your popcorn and whatever else, you made your way to the theatre and sat down in your seats. "i'm really glad you agreed to join me, y/n" lando smiled. "me too" you return the smile, once the previews start, you and lando are laughing at how bad some of the upcoming movies are. "NO WAY IS SOMEONE GOING TO WATCH THAT" you cackle. lando laughed even harder at your comment, until the lights dimmed and the movie started.

about halfway through the movie, lando turned to you. your eyes were glued to the screen until you saw lando looking at you. "what?" you say. "nothing, nothing" he cheekily smiles at you. you turn your eyes back to the movie playing in front of you. until you feel lando grab your hand. you blush hard. thank god its dark in the theatre.

once the movie is over. you and lando continue to keep your fingers interlocked. until you go home.

when you arrive at your front door lando smiles at you. "thank you again for agreeing to come with me y/n. i really enjoyed it."

"thank you for inviting me, lando." you kiss his cheek. landos face turns a beet red. "see you soon." you say.

"y-yeah, see you soon." lando says, holding his cheek in the place you pecked it. you open the door and turn around to say one last goodbye.

the thing you didn't know is that you wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon after the movie date.

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stay tuned for part 2!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[freakyformula]

How could I say no to such a pretty plea...

Summary: Reader and Max "wind down"

Writers comment: I've been wanting to do a Max fic for so long now and I finally got to it lmfao

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, praise kink, smut without a plot, google translated dutch, oral (both receiving), fingering, not proofread

Word count: 1,1k

"Max, please…" You whine as you look down at him between your legs.

His mouth was attached to your drenched cunt, working you up towards another orgasm.

"You're so beautiful, liefje. My good girl." He says as he dives down again, preparing her for him.

You feel him sucking on your clit, and then he adds a finger, teasing your entrance.

It slowly slips in and you both moan in unison.

"So fucking wet for me." He says in awe and curls his finger toward your sensitive spot, making you roll your eyes back and see stars.

As he adds another finger, you feel the stretch, but it's a nice and very welcome feeling.

"More…" You ask of him.

"Patience, love." He states.

He's good with his hands, there's no denying it. He knows exactly how to make you feel good. Something you hadn't experienced with any man before.

Max pumps his pointer and middle finger in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. You grab his wrist out of instinct to pull him and his fingers closer, deeper. Then, he pulls out of your sopping pussy, making you grunt disapprovingly.

He knows exactly how to tease you and you can confirm that his antics work.

"Only good girls get to cum." He says with a smirk on his face, leaning back.

"I am! Please, I'll be a good girl for you, Max."

"To prove it, I'll give you a task. Now, wait here."

And with that, Max gets out of the bed and undresses in record time. You take a moment to admire his naked body and Max takes notice, posing for you.

"Like what you see?" He beams at you.

You nod, biting your lip.

He crawls back into bed and grabs your face and squeezes your face, making your jaw fall open.

"Open up wide for me, you want to be good for me, don't you?"

And you do as you're told and open even wider.

He brings his cock to your mouth and you close the space between his tip and your lips. Max surely enjoys the treatment as he leans back on his back.

As you bob your head up and down, you also grow bolder, going deeper. When you feel his tip at the back of your throat, you start gagging. Max's head springs up to look at you in an instant.

He smiles at you, "Just a little deeper, okay, mijn schat?" He asks of you.

You look up at him with hooded eyes, sucking on him languidly, feeling his hands at the back of your head. He isn't pressing you down, but rather guiding you further down on his length. You haven't even worked down half of his cock yet.

You take a deep breath and manage to swallow his member just a little bit further down, gagging, struggling, and desperate to make him feel good. Max pulls you off him after a couple of seconds and you gasp for air. You repeat the same procedure a couple of times.

"I-I'm close." He admits as he pulls you off him one last time.

He sits up on his knees and hovers over you, making you fall back on your back as you straddle his hips.

"Do you feel ready for me?" He checks in as he idly plays with your clit and adds a couple of fingers into your heat.

"Max, please, need you." You breathe out.

"How could I say no to such a pretty plea…" He answers as he gives his cock a couple of pumps and lines himself up with you, adding some lube to his tip.

You could swear that you'd never get used to Max's size. He wasn't just long, he was also thick. The first time you did it you thought he wouldn't fit but after a couple of attempts, it worked.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you, liefste. The pain will be worth it." He tries to comfort you.

As he works his tip into you slowly, you tense up and whimper, making it impossible for him to get in.

"Shhhh, relax." He leans down and peppers kisses all over your face. His gesture makes you relax just enough for him to slide in, if only just a couple of millimeters, but enough for you to yelp.

He watches your contorted face and holds your head in his hands.

"Deep breaths… I wish I could do something to make this easier." He looks down at you with pity in his eyes.

You focus on your breathing and on Max's face, giving him a pained smile.

When he pulls out and penetrates you a little further, you scream out in pain. Your pussy was on fire, it felt like. Sliding your hand down between your bodies and to the place you were connected, you felt him pumping his tip in and out of you carefully. You start circling your clit to feel some sort of pleasure and you quickly feel the familiar feeling of ecstacy building up.

When you feel ready, you pull him a little closer with your legs.

The burning sensation wasn't as intense as before, you start to actually enjoy him pushing his way deep inside of your tight pussy.

"Mijn god..." He whispers in your ear.

As he bottoms out, you grunt loudly, enjoying the feeling of him in you.

He looks at you for approval to move and as you give him a quick nod, he starts to pump into you slowly, still taking care not to hurt you.

"You feel so good, Y/N, I won't last long." He breathes out.

"Please, please, please..." You shant.

He slides out and picks you up with his strong arms, turning you around. You end up on your hands and knees, much to Max's liking. This was your favourite position and you were sure he enjoyed it as much.

Before you can comprehend that you've even turned around, you feel him sheathing his cock inside of you again.

Max and you moan out in pleasure, with him pumping into you and holding you close. He slides his hands down to your lower stomach, feeling his cock deep within you through the skin.

You feel yourself getting closer again as he starts playing with your clit and picking up the pace even further.

"Cum with me, yeah?" He asks.

"I'm close!" You yell out.

And with a couple of final thrusts, you feel Max's cock twitching and you tumbling over the edge. You both scream out your orgasms and grab each other for some sort of stability.

As you come down, Max collapses on top of you, clearly tired, just like you.

"That was..."

"...Amazing." You finish with a smile.

[madhatterbri]

Filling | D.M.

Summary: A pie isn't the only thing that gets filled. 18+.

Authors Note: Happy first day of fall, y'all.

Drew McIntyre Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @keytothewardy @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic

Drew stopped in his tracks the moment he saw Y/N in the kitchen. The flannel he wore the night before covered her top. Short pajama bottoms barely covered her ass. The woman was trying to kill him. He just knew it.

"Morning," Drew greeted. He walked towards her. A bowl of pie filling laid before her. He moved her hair to the other side and kissed her neck. A shiver ran down her spine.

"Good morning, yourself," she hummed. His hands slid underneath the flannel shirt. Rough hands tickled her soft skin.

"I have got to say. The shirt looks a lot better on you than me," he commented. Y/N felt the shirt raise higher. The Scottish devil was trying to get a repeat of last night.

"And it will be staying on me," she informed him. Y/N swatted his hands away. He pouted yet pulled away from her. She turned around and sat on the kitchen counter. "Can you hand me a spoon, please? I want to try some to see if I need to add anything?"

Drew grabbed a wooden spoon. He scooped some of the filling in the spoon. The wrestler moved to serve her. She opened her mouth early to taste the sweet treat. Accidentally, as Drew insisted, some of the cool filling fell down on her chest.

She gasped and looked down. "Can I have a napkin, please?"

Drew had another idea.

He gripped the flannel shirt and ripped it open. She squeaked as her chest was now exposed to him. When she didn't hide herself, he leaned down and licked the filling slowly. His skilled tongue licked lower to her nipple. He sucked her nipple. Teeth grazed over the sensitive peak.

"Drew," she moaned. She clenched her legs. The tingling between her legs was a direct reaction from his teasing. He started to kiss up her chest and to her neck. His hand gripped her neck. His lips teased the shell of her ear.

"You cost me my flannel. I feel like this warrants a punishment. Bend over the counter and don't make me repeat myself,"

Drew took a step back. She slid off the counter. The wooden spoon fiddled in his fingers. He wanted her to know his instrument of the punishment. Timidly, she turned around and bent over. Her open palms and bare chest pressed against the cool countertop. Her face turned to the side in order to count.

His hands rubbed up her inner thighs. Her legs parted wider as his hands explored higher. The spot between her legs tingled more for him. He was so close to touching her, but he pulled away. She knew better than to show any signs of disapproval. It would just add to the punishment.

His fingers found their way to her shorts waistband and panties. With bent fingers, little effort was used to slide them down her legs. They pooled at her bare feet. She knew better than to kick them away.

"Maybe now you will learn to ask for permission to borrow my clothes. I expect to see you in that flannel for the rest of the day," he told her. She nodded and blushed darkly. His hands found their way on her bare ass.

He kneaded into her flesh. The massage started to calm her nerves. She visibly relaxed. His distraction worked in his favor. The wooden spoon struck her right cheek. She gasped and bit her lip. The wooden spoon left a red line and a nice sting.

"One,"

Drew smiled at the count. She was such a good girl for him. Well, when she wanted to be. He paced each smack of the wooden spoon. Some were in quick succession while others were spaced apart. Drew didn't want her to expect the spanks. Nonetheless, she counted each one to his liking.

"This hurt me more than it hurt you," he attempted to assure her. Drew placed the spoon down in front of her face. This is a reminder of what was to come if she disobeyed. His hands rubbed her bare ass once more. A hiss fell out of Y/N. She wanted to move from his touch. Her breath sucked in when his hands explored lower.

His middle finger slid ever so slowly between her slit. His hand rubbed up and down. Another finger, his ring finger, joined in the teasing. He spread her lips apart before allowing them to close several times. Her juices covered his fingers.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered. A soft slap to her bottom to show the urgency in following his simple order. No hesitation when the message was read loud and clear. Her wrists lay on top of one another on her back.

The same two fingers toyed with her once more. This time, they found their way to her entrance. He teased her. Only allowing up to his fingernails inside of her. Her walls clenched around them to keep him in. Y/N closed her eyes to keep from getting frustrated. Drew loved when she was patient.

With no warning, his fingers slid inside of her. She sighed in relief. Her walls clamped down around his fingers. Drew thrusted his fingers in and out. Her hips pushed back against him as if to allow him to go deeper. He showed mercy this time. Her actions went on without risk of punishment.

Her breathy moans started to pick up. No matter the situation, her body craved his touch. Drew curled his fingers. A whine of his name filled the cabin kitchen.

"Oh, Drew,"

Satisfied, he removed his fingers. Y/N caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for his next plan. Unable to see him, the rustling of the clothes was the only indicator of what was to come. His jeans were kicked away once they pulled around his feet.

The Scotsman rubbed her hips and outer thighs. The tender moment cut short when he placed her bent leg on the countertop. He reveled at the sight of her. She was so exposed to him. All for him.

Drew wasted little time. She jerked slightly when he pushed himself inside of her. Her eyes opened. Their breathing picked up. He went slow. This was a punishment for her, after all. He allowed himself in a little at a time before pulling out. An amused smirk on his handsome face. Y/N was frustrated yet didn't dare to say anything.

Showing mercy, he thrusted all the way in. His pelvis smacked against her ass. He repeated this a few times before picking up the pace. With her hands still behind her back, he gripped her wrists in his hand. His other hand was placed on the counter behind her head for better leverage.

Her body clamped around him the moment he picked up his pace. He swore he saw her eyes roll to the back of her head. She swore she saw stars. When he thrusted forward, Drew pulled her towards him. With her leg propped up, she swore he reached places no man had before.

"My good little baker. Baking a pie for our friends for later. If only they could see you now," he chuckled. Her mouth hung open, eyes rolled, toes curled, and a thin sheet of sweat covered her body. She nodded. His words sounded so far away.

"So close," she warned.

"I've got you, love," he assured her.

Drew's eyes roamed over her body again. When she first suggested a cabin for the weekend, he was a little perplexed. After last night and this morning, he could see her reasoning. No cell service. No distractions. Just the two of them catching up from his busy work schedule.

He let go of her wrists. She moved them away and rolled them around gently. The position made her a little stiff. His now free hand roamed by rubbing her back, butt, and settling to the bundle of nerves between her legs.

Y/N cursed as her orgasm seemed to come at a much quicker pace. His skilled fingers manipulated her to her peak. His thrusts grew sloppier as time went on.

"Drew!"

With one last cry of his name, Y/N comes on his cock. Her fingernails left crescent moon indents in her palns. He thrusted himself fully one last time and stilled. His cum filling inside of her. Never allowing himself to finish first, he placed both his hands on the counter.

Her legs shook under her. She would be on the floor if it wasn't for the countertop and Drew. When ready, he pulled himself out of her. The tell-tale sign of their dirty deed rolls down her thighs. He grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped away the evidence.

With a secure arm around her waist, he helps her off the counter. Her body is sore from the position, but she is satisfied. Her bare back pressed to his bare chest. He whispers sweet nothings in her ear. Soft, gentle kisses left on her cheek.

He spun her around and sat her on the countertop. Their foreheads pressed together. Drew is still trying to gather enough strength to take them to the bathroom to bathe. He kissed her gently. His fingers ran through her hair before nestling any loose strands behind her ear.

When enough time passed, he scooped her up in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Legs were wrapped around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder. Before drifting off to sleep, she looked at the counter. The bowl of filling left temporarily forgotten on the counter.

[supernaturalconvert]

Fandom bullying & Misha Collins

After the dust on the weekend has settled, I want to share my thoughts on it hopefully in a bit more collected manner. I am sure I will be accused of creating drama or being biased towards Jared & his fans and frankly I don’t care tbh coz in my book Misha Collin and his gang of bullies don’t deserve any grace. It’s been given for too long and it’s happened too many times to be a mistake. It feels malicious.

I will however say that there are a gang of his fans or supposedly J2M fans who are much more decent than the drama stirrers and they have actually played a positive part in drama not escalating on that side since we know how bad it can get. Of course there were death threats from the fringe (Mark, his sock & the other gang members) but I definitely saw so many of them being called out. Please correct me if I am wrong here.

It was also nice that we were able to piece together evidence of Misha’s lying through the years. Thanks @laf-outloud for it. I saw several people share it on twitter and I am sure some of the hellers if not for anything didn’t say anything after that was shared with them. I am sure that counts for something if we are able to tell as many people as possible that Misha lies. He has gotten away with these things for a long time.

I firmly believe that Misha is the biggest bully and shit stirrer in this fandom. It’s likely that he thought that the fandom was peaceful so may be he should take this opportunity to try and create drama yet again. I don’t put this past him at all. I very much think whether subconsciously or even consciously this might have been his thought. With Jared’s comment he has communicated to Collins that he notices these things that he fosters and if this still happens, then I am sure Jared is going to take action against him in his own way. I personally want Jared to stop doing any photo ops with him for starters. That’s going to hurt him enough to grasp that this bullying gang of his won’t work anymore.

[viinchester]

Haunted Reflections

Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death

Fandom: Dexter (TV Show/Series)

Pairing: Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper x F!Reader

Request by: @ireallydontknowohcrabs

Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.

Word Count: 2.321

My Masterlist

A/N: Initially wasn't sure about which direction to go with this request, but I decided on one eventually.😅 It was fun to write, so I hope you guys will it!💞 Reposts/Comments with feedback are, as always, very much appreciated!!🙏🏼 And just as a reminder: My requests are currently open.🥰💙

You expected this visit to be the same as any other to the prosthetics clinic usually was.

You were going to meet Dr. Gardner, the prosthetist who had been with you since you’d first been fitted for your prosthetic leg, and he'd make a slight adjustment to it, and then you'd leave again.

But instead of that being the case, when you walked into the clinic today, you were greeted by someone else. A man, much younger than Dr. Gardner, with a tall frame and dark curly hair stood by the window and was currently slipping on his gloves. The doctor, obvious by the signature-white lab coat he was wearing, calmly turned to you with a professional and slightly reassuring smile.

“Unfortunately Dr. Gardner’s out sick at the moment,” he immediately explained, his voice smooth and composed. “I'm filling in for him, so I’ll be the one handling your adjustment today. My name's Dr. Rudy Cooper, it's nice to meet you.” He shook your hand gently before gesturing to the chair in the middle of the room. “Please, have a seat.”

You nodded, sitting down and rolling the cuff of your pant-leg up, glancing at him curiously. “Well then let’s see if you’re as good as Dr. Gardner at putting me back together.”

Brian gave a small smile as he seated himself across from you, gently lifting your leg to begin his examination on your prosthetic. “I’ll try my best. Dr. Gardner’s very good at it, from what I hear.” His voice was light, but he was already scanning you, taking in the way you moved, the way you spoke.

When his eyes reached your hands, he had to do a double take, his world stopping. Your nails, painted in the exact same way his mother used to paint hers. The hues were extremely similar, and the order of the colors was identical.

It came out of nowhere and hit him like a physical blow. For just a second his breath hitched and his usually steady hands trembled at the sight.

No. It couldn’t be. But it was.

His mother’s nails, now on your hands, like some ghostly echo of the past.

The carefully constructed facade of calm professionalism flickered for a moment as a flood of memories surged through him.

His mother’s laughter, the smell of her perfume, the soft touch of her hand as she ruffled his hair. And then… the blood. Her blood, mixing with the colors of those very same nails.

How could this be happening? He hadn’t thought about his mother in this way for so long, hadn’t let himself remember.

Blinking a few times, he quickly put your leg down and reached for your file instead, fighting to regain control over his composure.

He couldn’t lose it here. Not now. It was just a coincidence anyway. Just some random woman with the same taste in nail polish.

Still, deep down the shock lingered, sending tremors through the carefully walled-off parts of his mind.

He flipped through your file as casually as possible, clearing his throat once to keep his tone friendly, but professional. “Just going over some notes here. It says the injury happened... a few years ago? Could you remind me of what happened, just to make sure everything lines up?”

Forcing a polite smile, the mask of Rudy Cooper slipped into place, though it felt more strained than usual. His eyes couldn’t help but glance back to your nails every time you so much as shifted, the image of his mother — and her terrified eyes, her pleading hands, those painted nails — almost overlapping with you. He could barely hear your voice over the roaring in his head.

Not noticing anything off, you nodded, hesitating for a second. You hesitated, not because the incident was difficult to talk about anymore, but because it had become such a strange story to tell. You’d almost made peace with it, enough to laugh about it sometimes.

“Yeah, it was... a pretty bad day. Tried to steal some drugs. Not for me, though.” You smiled shyly, a hint of awkwardness in your tone. “My idiot ex, thought I could help him out of a mess he got himself into. But then I got cornered by three guys with a chainsaw. Like something out of a horror movie, right?” You laughed a little, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Brian’s hands paused again, but he kept his face neutral, even with the chaos inside him growing. Drugs? That was already close enough to the horrors of his past. But then you mentioned three guys with a chainsaw, and the floor seemed to fall away beneath him. Though his expression didn’t change and he resumed his adjustment on your prosthetic, the memory inside his mind hit him like a sledgehammer, and in vivid detail as well. His mother, the men, the chainsaw whirring. He was too young to stop it, too small to save her, but the memory had never left him. The blood, the screams, the way her nails had clutched at him in desperation before the world went red.

And now here you were, sitting in front of him, your soft voice recounting a version of his nightmare.

Brian exhaled slowly, maintaining a steady voice. “That’s... an intense way to lose a leg. It must have been terrifying.” His words sounded professional, if empathetic, but internally he struggled to comprehend how this was possible. How could you have survived something so reminiscent of what happened to her?

His disbelief mixed with something darker, something predatory. He had been powerless as a child, but not now. Not anymore.

The thought of you cornered by men with a chainsaw, just like his mother, made something in him snap into place. His shock was replaced by cold determination.

It was as if the universe had handed him a second chance, a way to rewrite the past. This time was different. This time, he wouldn’t be helpless. This time, he would stop the violence, before it consumed you, too.

You gave a small shrug and kept talking, oblivious to the storm brewing inside of him. “Yeah, it was... I honestly didn't believe I’d make it out alive. But it’s been a few years now and here I am, still standing. Just… in a slightly different way.” You offered a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess I’ve learned to adapt. Well, kind of. I’m still getting used to the leg in a way, but hey, I haven’t fallen flat on my face in a while, so I guess that’s progress.” You smiled again, this time more genuine though, trying to lighten the mood. “And at least my ex didn’t get the drugs. Silver linings, right?”

Brian’s gaze darkened slightly at that, though he kept his tone light. “I see. That’s very impressive and brave of you, as I can only imagine how tough all that must have been. I’m hoping your ex is not someone you still have to deal with on top of that?”

You hesitated, biting your lip and avoiding his eyes, a little uneasy at the topic of your ex boyfriend. “Well, actually… he’s, uh, kind of been stalking me, on and off. Nothing too serious, but... it’s still annoying, you know?”

Brian's fingers flexed around your prosthetic, the material fitting securely into place. His eyes, though still composed on the surface, deepened in intensity and became more focused. Your ex was stalking you. Lurking, like a predator. His jaw clenched, and his disbelief at the situation melted away, replaced by a new resolve.

I couldn’t save her. But I can save you.

The idea of this man, your ex, still in your life filled him with an odd sense of purpose. He didn’t care about people, not really, but this was different. You had painted nails. You had suffered violence. You reminded him of her.

He would make sure nobody hurt you ever again. Starting with that ex-boyfriend of yours. Yes, he would definitely be dealt with. Permanently.

And going further, from now on, you would become his patient. Dr. Gardner had served his purpose, but Brian knew, with a chilling certainty, that you wouldn’t be seeing him again. Not if he could help it.

He forced a sympathetic chuckle, masking his true emotions as he continued to work on your prosthetic with his usual precision. “That sounds... frustrating. You’d think he’d get the hint by now.”

“Right?” You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to dispel the tension that came with the subject of your ex. “But I’m fine, really. It’s just one of those things I have to deal with.”

Brian simply nodded, his hands moving delicately, ensuring the fit was perfect, but his thoughts were miles away, plotting, considering what exactly he needed to do next to make sure you'd no longer have to do deal with it.

He was nothing if not methodical, his mind working like a finely-tuned machine, always planning, always calculating. When it came to taking care of your ex-boyfriend and Dr. Gardner, he would need to use two different approaches, that much was obvious.

Your ex-boyfriend would be the one to pay in blood. The man had been the catalyst for your suffering, the reason you had been put in a situation that mirrored Brian's own mother's gruesome death.

So your ex wasn't going to just disappear, that would be too easy, too nice. Instead, the bastard was going to feel every ounce of pain, every bit of terror that Brian imagined his mother and you had felt. He’d stalk him for days and learn his habits, figure out where he was most vulnerable. And when he’d finally make his move, it would be somewhere isolated, somewhere he could really take his time.

The act itself would neither be quick nor clean. Instead, Brian would make it messy, and visceral. He'd use tools that mimicked the chainsaw that had haunted both him and you. While he wouldn’t use an actual chainsaw, far too noisy and difficult to control, he would choose something just as violent, perhaps a hacksaw or an axe. He would let your ex feel the terror, hear the whir of a blade, and realize that his time was up.

In his twisted mind, Brian believed that you deserved closure. You needed to know that your ex-boyfriend was truly dead. Maybe you wouldn’t know it had been Brian, but you’d know your ex had been taken care of — brutally, and publicly even. The police would find the body, bloodied, hacked apart, left in some abandoned place where no one could escape the horror of the scene. It wouldn’t be a neat kill; it would be a spectacle. The kind that left a permanent mark in the mind of anyone who saw it.

It would be justice for you, and revenge for his mother.

It would be perfect.

You were going to feel safe, knowing that the danger had been wiped out, grateful that the threat was gone.

Dr. Gardner, on the other hand, required a different touch. Brian held no ill feelings toward him, the man simply needed to die out of necessity. But the doctor was a respected figure in your life, and if he simply vanished or died a violent death, you might grieve too hard, or worse, become suspicious. So Dr. Gardner's exit had to be quiet, peaceful, and leave no room for doubt. Brian could easily make it look natural, the man was already old enough that it wouldn’t raise too many questions if he were to die in his sleep anyway.

He'd slip a small dose of potassium chloride into Dr. Gardner’s food or drink, undetectable and mimicking the signs of a natural heart attack. The man would feel a sudden, overwhelming pressure in his chest, his heart seizing painfully — but he wouldn’t be able to cry for help. And in mere minutes, it would be over, and the man would be found peacefully in his bed or his office chair, just another old guy who’d met his end from "natural causes". No one would question it, and you might feel sad for a little while, but definitely not suspicious.

And Brian knew grief over a natural death tended to fade more quickly.

Then you’d return to the clinic in need of further adjustments to your prosthetic in the future, and who would be there for you? Him. The friendly, capable replacement who’d been there all along.

As Brian thought about it all, his hands checked the fit of your prosthetic, his fingers running along the edges.

“Now, hopefully this adjustment will work perfectly for you,” he then said, his voice calm as ever. “If you need anything else, any follow-up, you can come back to me and I’ll take care of it.”

You nodded — still oblivious to anything going on underneath his professional exterior — as you softly smiled up at him and stood up, testing your leg and finding it already fitting better. “Thanks, Dr. Cooper, it’s great, and that’s really nice of you. I’ll be sure to come back if I need any more work done.”

Brian smiled back, but it was colder this time, more possessive. “Rudy, please. And I’ll be here, whenever you need me.”

As you left the clinic, you felt relieved, glad that everything had gone well despite the fact that Dr. Gardner wasn't the one doing your adjustment. Dr. Cooper, or Rudy, had been kind, careful, and understanding. He was a really nice man. Hopefully you'd have him as your prosthetist again if Dr. Gardner ever fell sick another time.

Watching you walk away, Brian was certain of your return. He intended to mold your future so that you would always come back to him.

You may not know it yet, but he was going to ensure you’d never need anyone else, ever again.

[darsynia]

I hate doing this because I feel like it's needy but I need some virtual hugs/encouragement right now, of any sort.

In 2021, my middle daughter Saffron threw up and passed out onto the floor at school in the back private room of the nurse's office and wasn't discovered for many minutes. I took her home, scheduled a doctor's appointment, and took her in. While at the appointment, while on my LAP, she had a mini seizure, fell to the floor (I couldn't catch her), passed out, and threw up. We took an ambulance to the ER. No conclusions.

18 months later, she had another seizure/threw up in my arms after feeling unwell and staying home from school. Watching that was my worst moment. ER again. No conclusions.

Today, my oldest daughter passed out at school after asking to use the restroom so she could throw up. I am about 90 minutes from taking her to the same doctor to have her checked out. We don't know if she had a seizure.

Fam, I am an emotional wreck. All I can see is my Saffron falling away from me mid-seizure and my useless hands couldn't stop her. I can't... that can't happen again, but I also need to not be a complete wreck in the process. It's also raining, and it's hard to drive in the rain with my eye issues, so I'm really hoping I can power through that so my oldest doesn't feel like she's a burden!

Not to be outdone, youngest kid apparently broke something expensive at a friend's house that brought the owner to our door to request compensation. We just got done spending over ten thousand dollars on house work to prevent part of the structure from caving in (old, heavy greenhouse on back porch).

I don't even know what I'm asking for (gifs? a blurb? memes?). A few of you have left nice comments on previous posts that I treasured but didn't respond to, and I feel ungrateful. Please know your kind words are very valuable to me! ((Obviously I love my kids desperately and I'm quite worried about them, left that out, but hopefully it's implied))

I tried to cheer Oldest up this morning, she said it was a masterpiece:

[5five5five5five5five5five]

please old man/bookclub five headcanons, I loved ur last post about him!

hope you're feeling okay :]

Gasp!

I'm going to assume normal bookclub bc idk what s4 "bookclub" is. But I can totally ramble off about him in a casual club for books.

*he reads the books too fast and gets more peeved at the others who end up going very very slow. If someone doesn't finish a book, he admittly makes a comment "why are you in a book club if you can't finish a book is beyond me but-" old man shrug. It's not a fight worth having, he's just being a dick.

* brings the members strawberries and other fresh produce when he can. He likes showing off the stuff he grows and brings snacks.

*gets REALLY into the books. It's like he gets a micro fandom to be in every month. He reads it though like 3 times and then listens to the audio book once. Looks up if there's anything else. Maybe even discovers fanfiction...but he tries not to get that desperate.....he's read a few for particularly addictive books.

*has given a huge ramble about how the Great Gatsby would have been better and a lot of stuff settled if Gatsby and caraway kissed. He does it so casually too like he's not trying to make a progressive point or spark bigger queer discussion. He just genuinely thinks that's the answer to the book. More man kissing.

* speaking of, the more queer books they end up reading, the more he questions his everything. He probably has gone up to Viktor about stuff in these books and try to weasel out a "no it's not like that. Your totally a normal cishet man five." but neh it's ALWAYS "yeah that seems very realistic to the queer existence. Why so curious?" And he ends up not being able to admit he connects with said books. Viktor knows but he's not going to hound his brother any time soon. Five knows once he leaves the closet,there's people waiting to be supportive.

*the old ladies there can't stop babying him. He tries very hard to be as old man and as mature as he can but they don't listen and pinch his cheeks and pat his head. He is trying to do less sudden grandma wrist breaking to he takes it for the most part. They can be wrong. He will keep doing what he does. And he hates to admit the attention from women in his age range is nice. Sad he can't make any moves.

* for the holidays the bookclub goes caroling. Five isn't a fan but tags along. They most likely end up at one of his siblings houses and he gets cold feet. They can't see him in a dorky sweater and singing. Last Christmas he threw a fit about sweaters. But if he doesn't move, the club will leave him in the snow. Ruthless old farts.

Allison answers the door. Around 5 old people, 4 local parents and......five??? They stare daggers at eachother as five poorly sings oh holy night with the group. Then leaves. The other members noticed the tension but didn't want to say much.

*Lila tried to join once to get 'in' with the parents that are involved but was so booooored. "Five, no one should be having this much fun talking this much about a book. Period. Im almost concerned that you have finally gone senial."

*if five didn't like a book, he makes a PowerPoint on why and how. He is very detailed in his opinions. He wishes the others would do the same but no body can match his freak.

*he brings mr. Pennycrumb with him bc service dog and everyone there loves him.

* I think everyone assumes five is just a very lonely mentally or physically ill young man and try there best to be nice. He isn't fond of there borderline pity but he enjoys there company none the less.

* Diana from the PTA makes the best lemon cookies. Five eats more than he should.

*on top of book club, they like to take outings together to walk around and see the community. Do easy elderly friendly geocashes and eat at local cafes. Five likes when they go to the library because then they can snoop around for more books.

I hope you like these :3

[transinclusionary]

Ok but for someone who says they don’t care or are suppose ally’s to women you get really upset at women/ terfs I’m saying this as a gay trans masc you need to chill bc this just gives them receipts that all trans women are men who are misgonistic and violent seriously stop replying to them if it really doesn’t bother you

Lord have mercy, I'm going to summon the patience to respond, and give you the response this deserves. I'm going to level with you

I have never clarified what my gender identity is beyond "they/them" because I didn't believe my identity mattered beyond, only the content of my words. But if this needs clarification I will provide it so no one misunderstands me. I am not a trans woman. I believe this discourse shouldn't have to be done by trans women exclusively. Why must someone who opposes bigots be marginalized? Why must the marginalized fight the bigotry in their own oppression? Why can't I, a gnc cis passing queer woman be absolutely appalled and moved with rage at how awful these cosplay conservatives tarnish the very lavel activism with their existence?

It's not fucking fair how little people get in the world to help, and they get even less the more layers of intersectionality we get. And the lower you get the less society cares about you. The only thing you can turn to is fucking activism when you get so oppressed everyone has a fucking reason to hate you. So you join feminist circles to gain community, and a twisted fucking surprise, even the people who claim to care about gender liberation "feminists" dont care.

I'm allowed to find the struggles of others maddening, in the same way I would hope good white allies to find racism maddening or men to find sexism infuriating. If you're a good ally you should be MAD that someone of your same intersectionality can't just fucking treat people right.

It shouldn't be on trans women to take the brunt of this, or insist everyone ignores them. They don't ignore trans women! They go to safe spaces for women and harasses them, disseminates their photos, their information, and relentlessly bully them! Respectfully, I do not see how I am guilty for the anger I feel for the complete blatant acts of human depravity it is to bully a group of women who have a scary high suicide rate. By not talking about it and just expecting people to fight this issue with silence, I believe that we don't provide adequate community.

It is not just enough to be not a transmisogynist, you have to be anti-transmisogynists. I should not have to put my life in danger by standing up for black people in a room of trump supporters. But a white person should use what privilege they have to stand up for what's right. If I expect allies to do that for me, I need to do that for groups I'm allied with.

Thank you for reaching out. And in situations like these please, think about what you say. I believe you intended good with this post, but I also believe you could reflect on your words. I don't believe it's fair to call a black women aggressive for anger.

No minority should be responsible for the whole group of people, it's not fair to make minorities play by their bigots rules to be respected. Basic human respect shouldn't be earned through respectability politics.

[royalarchivist]

With over 20 members currently on the QSMP and more on the way, it's almost impossible for a single person to stay up to date on everything that happens, even with help from QSMP's official Twitter recap accounts.

For people who are interested in QSMP's story, characters, and/or streamers but don't have time to watch hundreds of hours worth of VODs, I've created the QSMP VOD Timestamp Archive.

If there's a particular lore moment you missed live and can't find, search for it in the archive!

Timestamps include quotes, notable lore events, and funny interactions. Interesting or important moments from each stream are bolded for emphasis. I'm also adding short summaries for lore-heavy / eventful stream.

I've organized the document so it should be easy to navigate, and you can CTRL + F to search for specific streamers and/or events.

Complete VOD playlists, recaps, and additional resources are also included in the document for people who might be feeling overwhelmed by the amount of QSMP content out there. It's never too late to get into the series!

If you have a streamer you watch consistently, consider writing down important timestamps to help fellow fans! You don’t have to take detailed notes like mine – even one or two timestamps can be a real lifesaver. If you have any helpful timestamps you want added to the list (or even a 1 sentence summary of a particular stream), send it to me via DM so I can add it to the archive.

I am just one person, so unfortunately this archive is by no means comprehensive, but I'm constantly updating things and adding more streams and timestamps to the document. I've been working on this project for a while now, so even though it's not complete, I hope people find it useful!

[ VOD Timestamp Archive ]

[ante--meridiem]

Someone left the following comment on a very old fic of mine (very old, like before I even had this blog old, certainly one where I no longer stand behind the writing choices and am occasionally tempted to orphan it)

and I am sure it was not the intended tone but I feel a little like I'm being studied like a bug.

[crossbackpoke-check]

it’s all the rest of what i want with you

connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k

Summary:

“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”

“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.

in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!

[theyoungeragrippina]

💫 5 gentlebeard fic recs

to see if we have similar taste or find more to read, you can access 15 more recs here, or my current master recommendations list as an ao3 collection.

all the works on this particular post:

are longer-form (40k+)

have no steddyhands (simply not my thing)

are generally, all around brilliant (well-written, had me kicking my feet and giggling, laughing, or crying)

are complete!

enjoy <3 !!!

The Angriest Chicken In The Apothecary by @ignisentis

49k, explicit

"Stede's a lonely apothecary owner looking for love. Ed's a jaded potions master looking for his place in the world. This is how they find what they're looking for in each other."

so funny & creative & witty. i would actually die for stede's chicken familiar clemmy. clemmy stan club for life. i love her. this is SOOO good.

The Curse of Blackbeard's Sword by @dimplyowl

69k, explicit

"Stede is beside himself when he's hired to acquire and restore the infamous sword of Blackbeard, the scourge of the Caribbean and Stede's childhood obsession. He didn't expect that the sword would come with the ghost of Blackbeard attached, for Blackbeard to be so interested in him, nor for his simple offer to help Blackbeard's soul move on open the gates to a relationship right out of his deepest fantasies."

a super fun magical realism quest/romp/rom-com. also i LOVE witch frenchie and stede's cat and poor third-wheeling lucius.

Hold Fast by @cuddlytogas

304k, explicit (all the sex scenes except the last one are pretty easy to skip, but definitely still worth reading without it. pls feel free to message me if you want pointers on where to read around in the last bit and i can summarise/signpost for u!!)

"Stede Bonnet is free at last, and on his way back to his love. As "Captain Thomas Edwards", he'll learn a lot about sailing and emotional availability, and perhaps even make a name for himself as the man either brave or foolish enough to hunt the legendary Blackbeard. But rumour has it that Blackbeard may be the opposite of welcoming, if and when he ever catches up..."

this is so long and so well characterised that it felt like an alternate canon continuation to the show. every time i came back to it it was like sinking into a warm and comfortable and familiar bed <3 so easy and emotional and incredible and SO well written.

Liquid Gold by @perkynurples

79k, mature

"Stede Bonnet, recently divorced, returns to the town he once knew with a plan. He's got the house, he's got the bees, and he's going to be(e) happy if it's the last thing he does. (Stede is, as it turns out, a bit miserable no matter how hard he tries.) Ed Teach has been keeping all of his various demos at bay more or less successfully for years now. He's known as THE beekeeper in town, always meticulous, always gentle, never too bothered with rules, expectations, or protective gear for that matter. (Ed is also, no matter how hard he tries, a bit bored at this point.)"

ed and stede are so well characterised, heaps of cat and bee and flower rep, fantastic sassy and nosy lucius. just a fun and funky and good time! (also contains my personal no. one favourite piece of fanart ever).

To Stede, This Morning by keriiiocabinet

71k, mature (nothing sexually explicit!)

"In July of 2003, music journalist Lucius Spriggs travels to Valle Crucis, North Carolina to secure the interview of a lifetime: a candid, one-on-one conversation with with the elusive country music legend Edward Teach. He expects the basics - talking to the infamous Man in Black about what the industry was like at his prime, the potential to unlock an exclusive confession or two, if he was lucky. But the story Lucius gets from Ed starts in the spring of 1963, when Ed Teach met Stede Bonnet. A story of chances taken, D-I-V-O-R-C-E, nudie suits, and an unconditional love spanning across forty years."

this is one of THE best pieces of fiction i've ever read, but also i am genuinely weeping. it is 9:30 on a thursday morning and tears are streaming down my face. unbelievably bittersweet.

let me know if there's any works you've loved or written that i've missed!

[artiststarme]

What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins? Part 16

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Here we go, part 16! I hope you guys enjoy reading this part and I'm excited to hear what you guys think in the comments. What do you think should happen next?

~*~*~*~

Eddie was definitely having trouble packing up his room at the trailer. All of his belongings had sentimental value and he didn’t want to part with any of it. From his many song lyric notebooks to his multitude of DnD figurines to his Sweetheart, everything was important to him. But, he knew that they wouldn’t have enough room in their current apartment to house all of his belongings. And he doubted that Steve would tolerate him taking over the bedroom of their future apartment with all of his nerdy shit. He was so entranced in a staring match with his posters that he didn’t notice his uncle arriving home and moving to stand in his doorway. 

“Eddie? Whatcha looking at?”

Eddie jumped a foot in the air and let out an unseemly squeak of fright. “Jesus H. Christ, Wayne! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? My god, I just saw my life flash before my eyes.”

He watched Uncle Wayne roll his eyes, “No need ta be so dramatic, son. Whatcha doing?”

Eddie sighed, “I’m trying to finish packing before Steve gets back with Robin but I don’t know where to start. I want to take all of it but we don’t have enough room.”

Wayne shrugged, “Just leave it. You’ll always have a home here so ya don’t have to get rid of anything. Take whatcha need right now and you can always come pick stuff up when you need it. This room’ll always be yours, I won’t touch anything.”

Eddie’s eyes watered as he considered his uncle’s words. Wayne had always been there for him, had always encouraged him to do what made him happy, and had done whatever he could to ensure that Eddie got what he wanted. He remembered the extra shifts Wayne had worked leading up to Eddie’s twelfth birthday so he could buy him his first guitar when he had mentioned his desire to learn how to play. And when Wayne found out he liked to feed the  stray cats around the neighborhood he loaded the cupboards with dry cat food and tuna cans. Eddie would miss living in the trailer with him and seeing him between his shifts. 

Wayne watched as tears started to leak from his nephew’s eyes and took a step closer, arms reaching towards him in concern. “Eds? Hey, what’s goin’ on? It’s alright, whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The soft words of comfort delivered in his southern-sounding drawl caused the tentative tears to renew with a vengeance. Eddie lunged into his uncle’s open arms and hugged him like he would when he first moved in with Wayne at the ripe age of eleven. While he was taller than his uncle now, the embrace comforted him just the same as it had then.

“Eds, do ya not want to move? Is the Harrington boy forcing you or something? You don’t have to do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with, just tell me and I’ll help ya.”

Eddie just shook his head on his uncle’s shoulder and held on tighter. “I’m gonna miss you, Uncle Wayne.”

Eddie could tell from the stiffening of the man’s shoulders that that wasn’t what he had expected to hear. “That’s it? Kid, I’m not dying. You can come visit whenever you want to and I’ll drag my ol’ hillbilly ass up to the city to see you too. Ya can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Eddie released a teary laugh and stepped back from his uncle’s hug. He knew Wayne would always accept hugs from his physically-affectionate nephew but he had limits and it made him uncomfortable after too long. “Thanks Uncle Wayne. I love you, you know?”

Wayne shuffled his feet and ran an awkward hand over his balding head. They both knew he wasn’t the best at emotions but he did try. “I love you too, kid. Now start packing or you’re gonna upset yer boy.”

Eddie chuckled and nodded as Wayne took his leave to go make coffee. He might be moving but he’d always come back to the man that raised him and loved him more than his own father ever had. Even though the other residents of Hawkins had never liked him, his home would always be there because of the love his uncle had for him. 

With a renewed vigor, he started pulling his least used notebooks from the desk and his most treasured journals from their positions. He packed his most important belongings into a duffel bag Wayne had bestowed on him and moved to his dresser drawers. He placed the slim pickings of all of his clothes into another duffel. Eddie decided that the room decor in Steve’s apartment was nowhere near metal enough to house him. And so, all of his Corroded Coffin signs, metal band posters, and concert flyers were coming with him to liven up the drab interior. Steve was not going to make another bedroom into a plaid disaster if he could help it. 

Soon enough, all of his items deemed essential were packed and ready to go so Eddie moved his few bags and boxes into the dining area and sat down to watch whatever sport game was on with Wayne. He didn’t know what the hell was happening on the screen but the time spent with his old man was appreciated regardless. 

~*~*~*~

Steve and Robin arrived nearly an hour later with an overexcited teenager in tow. Dustin’s smile dimmed once Eddie and Wayne came into view, Eddie appearing wary and Wayne’s wrathful gaze trying to glare holes into his head. “Um,” Dustin started hesitantly. “Eddie, can I talk to you?”

Eddie fiddled with his rings nervously but nodded. “Sure, man. Steve, can you take my stuff to the van, pretty please?”

Steve huffed in outrage but grabbed the first overstuffed box and made his way back outside. Eddie saw Uncle Wayne grab one of the bags before following his boyfriend out. He briefly considered going outside to act as a buffer between the two men but decided that Steve was a big boy that could handle himself. So, he chuckled and moved his eyes away from Steve in order to focus on  Henderson. The two boys moved into Eddie’s bedroom where Eddie nudged the door shut and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of self-comfort. He looked at Dustin expectantly. While Eddie himself may believe the words Dustin had called him, Steve had reinforced several times that he deserved an apology because what he had said was wrong. 

Dustin paced a few steps before looking at Eddie imploringly, “I’m sorry for calling you a coward and I don’t really blame you for anything that happened in the Upside Down! I was upset and I know I hurt you by saying that but I was so angry that I ended up saying things that I didn’t mean. I’m sorry and I can promise you that it’ll never happen again.”

Eddie nodded, “it’s cool, Henderson. I get it. I should’ve told you that I was talking to Steve and I understand why you were mad. It’s fine.”

Dustin shook his head profusely, “No, it’s not fine! Yeah, I was a little upset that you didn’t tell me but I understand why you didn’t. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that or yelled at you enough to give you a panic attack. I’m sorry and I’ll spend forever trying to make it up to you.”

Eddie nodded and placed a hand on Dustin’s head to wiggle it around, drawing a laugh from the boy. “Apology accepted, my little sheep. Now let’s go help Steve, I’m pretty sure my Uncle Wayne’s giving him the shovel talk.”

They both laughed and shoved at each other on their way outside where Wayne was indeed trying to give Steve a shovel talk. They both watched from the front slope, where Robin too was situated, as Wayne cornered Steve against the side of the van with a pointed finger waggling in his face. 

They could hear the tail end of what Wayne was saying, “If you hurt my boy, Eddie won’t be the only Munson that was wanted for murder. I’ve got a shotgun and I will use it on ya, Harrington, if I need ta. Ya understand me?”

Steve nodded fervently, “yep, yep, uh, yep. I get it, Mr. Munson. I promise, I will not hurt Eddie ever. I swear!”

Wayne let him go with a considering hum and watched as Steve ran behind Eddie. If he hid behind Eddie the rest of the night and kept sending scared looks Wayne’s way, well, that was no one’s business but his own.

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20: Epilogue

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[doublearmbars]

pspspspspsps finjay forbidden door heatfic here

[everybodyshusband]

it's healthy to go back and reread all the nice comments people have left on your writing i think :3