#where I live. it's been happening with furniture for a long time and as soon as nicer clothing started appearing it happened with clothes

[david-watts]

I feel kinda bad about those comments I made on that one post because I was being a bit of a dick, and it was because I was tired and misunderstanding exactly why people get so mad about ‘tiktok punks’ (please just call them posers. that word already exists and means what you mean) but like. I do stand by the fact that I don’t care if people end up buying from ethically awful places since it’s not easy or affordable to avoid, and quite frankly I understand if someone’s a bit lazy about it. but that one person accusing me of thinking ‘slavery is punk’ genuinely made me realise those posts about reading comprehension on this site being godawful aren’t hyperbole

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

[strwbmei]

summary: what could've happened if angell chose to be selfish for once

contains: desperate/emotional sex, transfem!angell, fem!reader, angell tops, marking, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, angst no comfort, whatever the opposite of reunion sex is, parting sex???, mentions of crying but not in a sexy way, mentions of blood (also not in a sexy way), tw kidnapping, but you kind of learn to live with it, whatever the hell is going on in angell's event, everything is consensual and soft despite the alarming tags, mentions of drugs but it's unrelated to the smut, unresolved feelings on both sides, tw murder unrelated to smut, devirginifying sex i forgot what it was called, set in between Ditty Nightsong and Angell's interrogation

pairing(s): angell x chief!reader

a/n: I HAD to write this after finishing her event. Seeing Angell and the chief slowly get along despite their circumstances was such a treat. Also, first PTN fic!

You're tidying Angell's room up, careful to not make any noise since you don't want to wake her. Seeing the piles of pillows and clothes on the floor, you can't help but sigh. How has she lived like this for so long?

A faint song plays in the background. It's obvious the record player has seen better days—it's one of the more used appliances in this house. The song playing is the one Angell listens to while on the job. Huh.

Days are passing by, living this lie,

Not knowing what we're looking for,

As you dust off the furniture, you can't help but smile faintly. A change of pace like this is nice once in a while. Your only worries are preparing meals and doing maintenance around the house, which Angell doesn't even require you to do. Just something to keep you busy, you suppose.

It helps that she isn't a picky eater. Despite your lackluster culinary skills, Angell finishes each meal without complaint. She's even made a few positive comments lately. Maybe you should try making a meal for the sinners once you return to the MBCC.

Oh. Right. You're returning to the MBCC.

Gray, these walls are gray and there's no sky.

There is no hope, there is no soar.

I know somewhere there must be more.

It feels... weird to admit, but you've grown fond of this lifestyle. A domestic life with Angell like this is comforting, as long as you don't consider the fact that she'll definitely hand you over to her client as soon as she gets in contact with them.

Maybe you're just like the goldfish in her apartment, swimming blissfully in their tank as they stay oblivious to the outside world. You doubt Angell would be able to take care of them if she moves houses again.

You gather the clothes from the floor, catching a whiff of dried blood and sweat. Yikes. You wouldn't be surprised if the tank top you were holding had a whole ecosystem inside of it. It wouldn't hurt to wash these later, you think to yourself.

Just as you're about to finish putting the clothes away, you feel someone suddenly pull you into a tight hug, as if you'd escape from their grasp otherwise. It's Angell. You can hear how shaky her breathing is. It seems she had a bad dream.

"Don't go,"

The words Angell had been holding herself back so desperately not to say inevitably leave her, like a clock knowingly marching towards the hour of its death. She's glad that you can't see her right now with how her lips are quivering. You can still feel her hands trembling around you, though.

It's all so stupid. Angell is so stupid. She let herself get used to you, your warmth, and your kindness akin to sunlight so bright it hurt her eyes. And where has that gotten her? Naive; borderline delusional. Possibly dead, too. What have you done to this assassin, Chief of the MBCC?

"Please."

You feel as if you're meeting Angell for the first time when she says this. She has never acted like a dangerous hitman at home, but she has never acted so... desperate, either. You don't mind seeing another side of her, but the sudden change in demeanor is perplexing.

"Angell?" You call out. The woman's grip on you gets ever so slightly tighter in response. "Everything's okay. I'm here." You're not going anywhere—or so you'd like to say. Your relationship with her, if you could even call it that, is already far too filled with lies for you to add one more.

You can feel Angell's muscles tense around you. She holds her strength back, protecting you as if you were but a candle flickering in the wind. You feel safe. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?" Although most of Angell's actions are obscured from your vision, you can feel her shake her head.

"Don't leave me."

The two of you are captive and captor. Not roommates, and most certainly not lovers for Angell to say such things. She could end your life at this very moment if she so wished. So why is it that Angell is the one who finds herself powerless in your grasp?

You stay silent. If you were being honest, you don't want to leave her either. But the world doesn't work that way. You have responsibilities; the both of you. There are more pressing matters for you to handle than adjusting the hands of a clock and feeding goldfish.

Angell knows this. She values professionalism and credibility far more than her personal preferences. That's the only reason why she kept you here in the first place. Which is why you don't understand what exactly has gotten into Angell; what has pushed her to give up her creed like this.

Sensing the mutual hesitation in the air, Angell pushes you down onto the bed. Her eyes are slightly swollen and red, as if she had just been crying. You wonder what she had been dreaming about. You want to comfort her.

In this state, she'll listen to whatever you say, whatever falsehoods you feed her. Tell Angell everything will be alright and that your time together won't end. She'll believe you this once, even if it leads to her death.

You're pinned under Angell's weight, but you aren't afraid. There's something about her that ironically makes you feel safe, despite how aloof she can be. Angell doesn't shy away from your touch, either, even if she knows that you could use your shackles on her. "Angell..." Your hand reaches up to cup her cheek. She instinctively leans into it. "You're not alone anymore."

Angell's eyes widen uncharacteristically from your words. She tries to act unaffected, but you feel her breath hitch. Is it true? The walls she had built around herself to shield herself from others had eventually turned into a prison isolating her from the rest of the world. Could Angell... really break them down?

She does what feels most natural and leans in to seal your lips in a passionate kiss. It's desperate like a symphony of sorrow, yet as gentle as if she were handling a delicate flower. Angell's inexperience is clear.

How unfair. A kiss is something that you should only share with someone that you love.

And still, you return it just the same. You mirror her fervor as you chase after her lips, your elbows propped on the mattress to hold you up. Its softness and warmth is a pleasant surprise. Most likely because Angell only used to sleep on the couch before you came into her life.

She detaches herself from your lips after what felt like forever and a day. Angell's brows are furrowed, and her eyes are hesitant. She gazes at you as if to ask, is this really okay?

Whether she's asking if this is okay with you or if it's okay for her to indulge in her desires for once, you have no idea. It doesn't matter. The answer to both questions remains the same.

This time, you're the one to pull her into a passionate make-out. Angell groans, eagerly savoring each kiss as if it'll be her last. You brush her hair away from her face.

"Everything will be alright." You promise, both to yourself and the to woman in front of you. But you're wrong. How could Angell ever be fine without you?

She can abandon this house, her pride, or even her life if need be. But you? Oh, god, not you. How could you get Angell used to your warmth and kindness, just to rip it all away from her?

It'd be less cruel to treat her with mockery and disdain. It's what Angell is used to and it's what she believes she deserves.

"No," she says firmly. She buries her face into your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist. "Don't go." For some unknown reason, Angell is convinced that you're going to leave.

There are still a few days until the "gig" she took expires, and even then, she can choose what she wants to do with you afterward. Angell could keep you locked up here for as long as she wants, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing.

But she isn't that kind of person.

Angell doesn't belong with those scum on the dark web. Her heart is unadulterated by the filth surrounding her, and despite how she acts, you know Angell loves helping people deep down.

"I'm here." You comfort her. Once again, you have to stop yourself from telling her that you'll stay. It seems you accidentally said that out loud, though. "...Liar." Angell mumbles, lips now trailing along your jaw and neck.

Sighing in bliss, you remove your coat to give her more space to work with. You toss it to a corner of the room. You'll clean it up again later. Her hands roam around your torso, exploring to find the buttons of your shirt.

Frantically, Angell works to remove them. She rushes as if she's going to lose you any moment now, not even bothering to remove her own clothes yet. "Don't go..." Angell pleads again before her mouth bites softly from your collarbone to your breasts. She unclasps and removes your bra as she goes.

"Angell..." You sigh her name as she fondles one of your breasts. She touches you with a gentleness she's never shown anyone else. When Angell looks up at you, her eyes reflect an emotion that you can't identify.

Longing? Regret? Lust? You can't tell. Honestly, you don't know how you feel about her either. You thought that Angell was weird at first, but you always believed that she had a good heart. You've grown fond of her as time passed—too fond. Angell isn't the only one wearing her heart on her sleeve, apparently.

For the first time, she calls your name. Not "Chief," but your name. God, it's stupid how such a simple thing has your heart racing when you're literally about to fuck. Since when has your kidnapper gotten you so smitten?

Angell's hands, strong albeit a bit slim, map out every plane on your body. She savors the feeling of each curve and dip and takes her time etching it into her memory. Lips work to kiss every inch of your now exposed skin, occasionally leaving small bite marks.

Not once has Angell treated you like the Chief of the MBCC. She knows of your identity and the good deeds you've done, yet she treats you like any other person. It's one of the many qualities you've grown to love about Angell.

The atmosphere in the room gets warmer, and you use it as an excuse to take off her leather jacket. The other woman is left in her tank top and pants. The prominence of her collarbones sadden you, although it's gotten better since the first day you were brought to this safehouse. You wish she'd take care of herself more.

Angell's hands stop at your belt. You enjoy the few seconds of her struggling with herself before she speaks up. "Can I...?" You smile at her consideration for you, making sure that you're fine with what she's doing. "Yeah. Go ahead."

Office wear is such a hassle to take off, you think to yourself as you help Angell take off your pants. Are all those layers really necessary? Again, the piece of clothing is tossed away to god-knows-where.

Immediately, the woman pounces back on you, now leaving kisses along your stomach as she holds onto your hips. You trace her scars softly with your fingers. You can't imagine the hardships that Angell has been through. You're happy to provide any sort of respite to her.

In the moment Angell stops to look up at you, there is an undeniable air of sadness and guilt. In an attempt to cheer the woman up, you tuck her hair behind her ears and attempt to tease her. "Don't miss me too much."

As you expected, Angell stays silent. You can feel her relax a bit, though—that's a win in your book. She finds comfort in how you never change. Angell slowly dips the pad of one of her fingers into your folds, careful not to hurt you. "Mm... Angell..." You bite back a moan.

"You can go faster. I can take it." You reassure the woman through heavy breaths. It's honestly embarrassing how wet you are, but Angell takes it as a sign that she's doing good. She's become more confident; now thrusting her finger inside of you all the way, albeit still at a gentle pace.

Angell is observant. She looks for what motions earn the most positive reaction from you with an almost deadpan look on her face as if she's not literally fingerfucking you into the mattress. It shows how focused she is on making you feel good.

"Is this your first time?" Angell asks suddenly. She doesn't look at you. "Yeah... Why?" You respond. Angell stays quiet, continuing the movement of her fingers. The question caught you a bit off guard. She didn't seem like the type to refuse to mess with virgins or care about the status of anyone's virginity in general.

Just when you let out a moan from her grazing your g-spot, a realization hits you. This is Angell's first time, too. You doubt she's ever had any real romantic experience before, much less sexual. It's no wonder she seems so nervous. You make a mental note to reassure and praise her.

Angell takes notice of how you let out a sound whenever she grinds against a specific place and abuses the same location with each thrust of her fingers. When she sees you trying to grind against her hand, (because of how good it feels, but she doesn't know that) she takes it as a sign that you need more.

"I'm going to add another finger," Angell says more like a statement than a question, but she waits for your approval before doing so anyway. You've never felt so full. Her years of experience using a sword have calloused her hands ever so slightly, and although you feel bad for what led her to a life of crime, damn did it feel good rubbing against your walls.

Angell loves the way you moan her name. She can't get enough of it; she wants to hear it roll off your tongue like a starving wolf longing for prey in the dead of winter. She listens to the sound of each letter eagerly, as if engraving it into the very essence of her soul. She wants you to say her name over and over again, and only hers. As is in the present and as will be in the future.

Angell's own selfishness surprises her. Maybe she's just like the greedy criminals she has both killed and worked for. Angell has never denied the possibility—she's not the saint that you think she is. There is blood on her hands, and not even the purest of oceans can wash it away. She has long since come to terms with her fate of isolation.

You arch your back into her touch, your arms wrapped around her back. If not for the tank top she was wearing, you're sure you would've left some claw marks along it's broadness already. You have to stop your legs from closing on their own, the overwhelming pleasure proving to be too much. Soft moans and the scent of sex fill the room. "Feels so good, Angell..."

She takes a deep breath, the only things filling her senses being your sweet voice and the feeling of your warm pussy stretching to accommodate her fingers. You have no idea how long Angell has wanted to touch you like this. You do things to her that she can't explain.

Your moans increase in frequency, getting higher pitched as you feel yourself nearing release. It seems Angell is a natural at using her fingers, seeing how she's about to make you cum quicker than you could ever get yourself to. "Angell... I'm-"

Before you can warn her, your legs tremble and you cream all over her hand. After continuing her movements to help you come down from your high, Angell pulls her digits out, fascinated by the string of cum connecting them. Much to your surprise, she puts both fingers into her mouth.

"...I've never tasted anything like this before." Angell remarks. Her sense of taste is dull—she isn't exaggerating when she says she can't tell apart food that's edible from food that's spoiled, or raw from burnt. But you? Your taste is as distinct as it can be to her tongue. You've ignited a dangerous fire in the woman.

"More." Angell demands, positioning her head between your legs. Just as you're about to protest that you're still sensitive, she speaks up again. "Can I?" Angell tilts her head as she asks for permission. Fuck it. You know you wouldn't be able to refuse her and her annoyingly adorable personality anyway.

You sigh at your lack of self discipline when it comes to Angell. "Yes, you can." Those words are all it takes for her to dive headfirst into your dripping sex. Angell's tongue explores your warmth with a newfound confidence, using what she's learned from fingering you to eat you out as skillfully as possible.

God, she's absolutely addicted to your taste—to you. Angell can't get enough of how you squirm under her touch; how you moan her name so wantonly. She'd stay in between your legs for forever if she could, but forever is not a luxury that the two of you have.

Angell wishes that life would be as easy as adjusting the hands of the clock. She wishes she could turn everything back to how it used to be. Angell would hold on to every passing moment with you like a painter desperately trying to capture the perfect sunset before it fades.

Each wet lick up your slit is greedier and hungrier than the last. She's gentle with you, yes, but you can feel the weight of the underlying desire that's been building up in the pit of her stomach for god knows how long. What Angell feels for you is akin to a devouring darkness: once you get entwined, there's no going back. Whether that applies to you, her, or both of you remains unknown. Maybe you know the answer but choose to ignore it.

Body still awash in the aftermath of your previous orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your belly building up once again. It takes all of your strength to resist pushing Angell's head down between your legs. Well, not that she could go any further. Too busy moaning Angell's name to warn her with words, you hope that she'll get the message with how your legs are trembling.

Sure enough, you cum with a breathless gasp soon after. She eats you out through your high, careful to lap up all of your fluids without overstimulating you. Angell is a quick learner, after all. You're left panting for breath after two consecutive earth-shattering orgasms, yet Angell hasn't even gotten undressed. That won't do. Aside from the damage your pride would take, you want to return the favor.

"Angell, lay down for me, will you?" You ask of her through your heavy breathing. Although Angell has her doubts, she immediately follows your command. "I'm not tired yet." You chuckle at her words but shudder to think about its implications. The stability of your legs would not survive after getting eaten out by Angell again. Though, the same might be said for what you're going to do next. "I want to make you feel good too."

You sit with your thighs on either side of Angell's legs, already working on removing her clothes. Once they're off, you're quick to capture her lips in a chain of soft, yet lustful kisses. She gives in to you more easily than you expected. You had the impression that Angell would be the type to want to be in control of everything at any time, but she lets you lead this dance.

Although the woman is probably unaware, the size of her boner is huge. Seven inches at the very least. You bite your lip at its sheer girth. You'd be lying if you said that you never had any doubts about it fitting inside of you, but it's nothing you can't handle... probably. As if reading your thoughts, Angell speaks. "...I don't have any lube."

Your eyes wander to the bottle of lotion you put on her bedside table, (which was the only surface available for it at the time,) but you eventually decide against using it since it's most likely expired. "It's fine. We'll start out slow."

Angell likes the insinuation that you'll go faster once you're more comfortable. She helps you align yourself with her cock, gently holding you by your hips. Although Angell has her hands on you, she lets you control the pace and only tries to assist when necessary.

With bated breath, you sink onto the tip. Her length feels endless, filling you up completely inch after inch. Angell relishes in how your eyes almost roll into the back of your head and the moan you let out when you finally take her inside entirely. Still, she places your comfort and pleasure above everything else. "Are you sure about this?"

Your chest heaves as you get used to the sensation of feeling so... full. It takes you a few seconds to reply. "This is nothing that the Chief of the MBCC can't handle," Angell smiles at your reply. Your act of false bravado isn't fooling anyone. It gives the woman a sense of pride to have such an important figure of society in her hands like this.

Just being inside of you has Angell biting her lip. She'd never imagine in her life that she'd be able to sleep with anyone, much less someone as kind and beautiful as you are. The intimacy of it all makes everything that much more pleasurable, and Angell hopes you feel the same way.

The two of you stay like this. Both of you are aware that you don't have much time left, but you're not in a rush. Rather, you take the opportunity to enjoy this moment thoroughly. It takes a while for you to get used to Angell's sheer size, and it also takes her a while to get used to these unfamiliar sensations.

Angell is barely able to conceal the pure ecstasy she feels when you start moving. Your pussy is just so tight. She's not one to masturbate often, but she can say with confidence that being inside of you feels miles better and much more personal than rutting into her hand just to get rid of her morning wood.

You take Angell down to the base, albeit with much difficulty at first, and start off by grinding. You roll your hips back and forth, the tip of her cock almost kissing the entrance of your cervix. Angell grips your waist harder, but still lets you control the pace of your lovemaking. Her trust in you makes your heart flutter.

With Angell's hair splayed like flowing rivers on the sheets, her eyes fluttered shut, and soft moans escaping her mouth now and then, you aren't able to resist the desire to kiss her. It starts with a small smooch on her neck, then two. And then these kisses turn into hickeys one after another.

The feeling is weird and alien to Angell, but she surrenders herself to you all the same, even tilting her head to make it easier for you. You feel bad about leaving them in such obvious places, but knowing her, she wouldn't bother to hide them. And you'd be right, because if anything, Angell would wear them as a badge of honor. Who cares what other people think of her sex life?

Up, and down. Up, and down. You move your hips at a steady pace once you get the hang of it. You relish in the way the sides of her cockhead rub against your walls so deliciously. As you're straddling Angell and leaving more hickeys wherever you can access, she gets an idea to play with your clit while you ride her. You seemed to like having it stimulated earlier.

Soon after, the both of you are a moaning mess. This small gesture makes everything feel a hundred times better for you, and in turn, you move faster. You lift yourself enough so her tip is barely inside of you, and immediately bring yourself down again.

Angell curses under her breath. She holds onto you as if you'll disappear otherwise, chanting your name like a mantra; like a sinner begging for forgiveness. The sight of you bouncing up and down on her cock while looking down at her so lovingly is enough to make the inexperienced woman swoon.

"I'm close..." Angell warns. You don't care. In fact, you seem to be riding her harder; trying to milk her for all she's worth. "Want you inside." You lean forward to kiss her. Angell chases after your lips fervently, her hands holding you close as you continue to move your hips while her thumb presses down on your clitoris.

You swallow each other's muffled moans. The only thing that matters to the both of you in this moment is one another. You'd freeze time and stay like this with Angell for eternity if you could. She cums with a strained groan, and you feel her seed filling you up. It's oddly comforting to know that Angell has left a mark inside of you.

You continue your ministrations slowly, and yoi have an orgasm of your own soon after. The mixture of you and Angell's fluids form a white ring on the base of her cock. It doesn't take long until the two of you collapse next to each other, breathing heavily as sweat runs down both of your bodies.

Although you feel refreshed, you have no idea how to handle this. Your relationship with Angell, your return to the MBCC, everything. The confusion is understandable considering you literally just slept with your kidnapper who's been holding you captive. You'll cross that bridge when you get there, you suppose.

Seeing Angell stare at you, most likely with no idea how to proceed either, you feel like you should say something. "That was great, Angell. Thank you." She smiles at your words before pulling you into a cuddle. Angell really is just like a cat, you think to yourself.

With these thoughts in mind, your impulse to scratch her behind the ears just like you would to a stray cat on the side of the road win. Before you can retract your hand to apologize, Angell leans into your touch, sighing contently. You swear you hear her purr, even.

"You really... don't want to stay at the Bureau?" You ask. You regret letting those words leave your mouth, but you can't bring yourself to care now that you're running out of time. You're more than willing to fight for her. "You'll be safe. You can have my red bean soup any time you want."

Angell knows that you mean each word that you say. You won't let anyone from the dark web bother her, and even though you have responsibilities, she knows that you'll fulfill your promise. That's why it hurts.

"Tomorrow. I'll give you my answer tomorrow." Angell speaks up, just as you start to fear that you might've ruined this intimate moment. Her words give you hope. It's faint, but it's there. You'd like to say that you wouldn't, but you'd cling to any chance to spend more time with Angell; have her by your side even if only for a second more.

However, the woman has already made an irreversible decision: one that she fears has consequences that she'll be carrying for the rest of her life. For now, both of you are content with your current state.

"Stay with me," Angell mumbles, trying to enjoy your scent and affection the best her tired body can manage. A thought passes both of your minds as you're entangled in each other's embrace: it'd be nice if we could stay like this forever. It saddens Angell to know that that thought would only be left as an 'if.' "Just for a bit longer."

"Tomorrow" never comes. Tomorrow will never come without you by her side.

Angell wakes up. The bag containing her trusted blade is held near her body. She finds that she hasn't been able to let go of it ever since you've left her—or rather, ever since she left you. It's the only thing left of the time you spent together. It's the only thing that assures Angell that you were real, not just an illusion.

A lot of things have changed. She finds herself sleeping more. Angell clings to her memories with you through dreams, even trying to "make" new ones whenever the chance presents itself. She's also taken less assassination jobs lately, instead picking odd jobs that you'd be likely to choose for her.

Angell remembers the last one she took. The man was a leader of a drug cartel, infamous for getting young sinners addicted and using them to transport goods. The world would be better off without him, and Angell was no different. He had a wife and a toddler son. He called for his wife's name before he drew his final breath. Perhaps he too was but another victim of the cruelty of this side of the world—perhaps he too wanted to escape the void of the dark oceans and live under the sun's warmth.

Angell is too far gone. A shark cannot start living on land, no matter how much it wishes. She belongs in a bottomless abyss where the sun must not pierce through, while you belong on the other side of this fucked up world, risking your life to save everyone that can be saved. Angell is not a part of that group. She feels your sunlight faintly, but as much as she wants to bask in it, it cannot pierce through the deep waters of her heart. It must not.

Maybe things could've turned out differently if she met you earlier.

Angell stands up from the dusty couch. She is the only one in this desolate home. You're not there to scold her for sleeping on the sofa when she has a clean bed. Not even her goldfish keeps her company on these cold nights—but she trusts that you've taken good care of them. You've always taken care of everyone around you, but who's going to do the same for you?

Particles of dust float in her apartment. She finds that there's no reason to clean it up. Once again, her fridge is full of nearly expired, barely edible "food." As Angell gets ready to head out, she sees her reflection in the shards of broken glass on the floor. It was from a vase that came with the safehouse that she knocked over and forgot to clean. Huh. It looks like she's been crying.

You wake up in a cold sweat. The coolness of your desk against your cheek is unpleasant. The arm you've been using as a pillow is numb. You scramble to sit up straight and look at the time: 2:48AM. Most of the Bureau is asleep. A blanket that you didn't even realize was resting on your shoulders falls off of you, most likely Adjutant Nightingale trying to make sure you don't catch a cold.

On a tray set apart from the paperwork you had been working on, there is a note, a sandwich, and a cup of iced coffee. You assume the perpetrator is the same as the person who wrapped a blanket around you, and as it seems from reading the note, you were right. The contents are a mix of Nightingale's concern for you and scolding you for not taking care of your well-being.

You feel bad for worrying her all the time. Honestly, you're surprised she hasn't resigned yet with how often you get kidnapped. It's not just Nightingale either, even some sinners have noticed the bags under your eyes and how distant you've been acting ever since you came back. You should really pull yourself together. If not for yourself, then for the sinners who rely on you, the Chief of the MBCC.

Why do you keep dreaming about Angell? You've been betrayed many times before, and although you'll never get used to it, you've always gotten back up each time quicker than the last. What is it about her that's so different? Why does she affect you so much?

You open your laptop with a newfound sense of determination, but this time, it's not for work. If you want to stop a problem, you should tackle the source of it, right? Or maybe that's just an excuse. You're going to find her, and along with her, answers. After you press the 'enter' key, the simple yet eerie screen you've grown familiar with welcomes you back:

"Welcome to DisMyth"

[imtryingbuck]

Affair Part 2

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x ??

Summary: The aftermath of reader telling Bucky she’s divorcing him

Word count: 3157

Warnings: Bucky is a big huge gigantic humongous dumdum. Swearing, if there’s more let me know.

Translation: милая девушка - beautiful girl. ангел - angel.

Masterlist

Part 1

“I filed for divorce” kept playing on his mind for the rest of the night long after she had gone to bed. His phone kept going off nonstop, the messages and missed calls all from Sharon.

He stayed at the home he shared with his wife and children for four hours waiting, hoping his beautiful wife who he betrayed would come back down the stairs and tell him she forgave him.

It never happened.

He left, getting into the car his wife brought him, the same car he fucked his mistress in and went straight to Sharon’s. Knocking on the door he only had to wait for a few minutes before the wooden door came swinging open.

“You finally showed, I’ve been waiting for ages! We need to talk” Sharon stands there, red eyed as if she had been crying.

“She’s divorcing me” Walking past her and looking around the room he’d been in so many time before - double date nights, just seeing his best friend, cheating on his wife with his best friend’s wife.

“He’s divorcing me too” Her voice was happier than his. “Now we can be together, I had to cry in front of Steve pretending I cared. Then you wouldn’t pick up your phone I wa-”

“I don’t want you Sharon. I want Y/n. I want my children and my best friend back. Me and you biggest mistake I have ever made!” Cutting her off.

“You’re joking right? We are so perfect together not me and Steve and especially not you and that bitch!”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch” he seethes.

“Don’t act like you care now Bucky where was that caring nature of yours when you was sleeping with me for 8 months? And news flash she’s divorcing you she’s not going to get back with you!”

Having her remind him of the stone cold truth hit him in the gut. Sharon was right, his wife was divorcing him. She was never going to get back together with him.

“I don’t care if she’s divorcing me just don’t call her a bitch.”

“Okay, how about we don’t talk about them two okay? Here’s what I was thinking, I’m getting the house in the divorce so I’ll just sell it and me and you can get an apartment together? We can buy all new furniture and it can be a fresh start for us and oh I’ve already found -“.

As Sharon stands there rambling on he had the urge to ring his wife and tell her she was wrong. Sharon did want him now that they were divorcing, she’s even planned to sell her house so they can get an apartment together. Y/n was wrong about that Sharon and himself couldn’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after because he stood there with his mistress in front of him and having to hear her rambling off about their new future together.

His wife who he loves more than anything in this world was wrong.

Because it wasn’t Sharon that didn’t want him now their affair was known to their spouses. It was him. He was the one that didn’t want her, he didn’t want the apartment with Sharon, he didn’t want a fresh start with his best friends soon to be ex-wife. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted a fresh start with Y/n so he can get a second chance of being better. He wanted the love of his life back, and he wanted Steve back - he knew himself that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for his part of her affair.

“-Bucky? Bucky are you even listening to me?” Sharon’s voice cut his inner monologue off.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry”

“You wasn’t listening was you? It’s okay silly bum I was just talking about an apartment I found the other day, oh Buck it’s beautiful and I honestly think it would be perfect for us” Her voice was hopeful and excited. He found himself comparing her voice to the one belonging to his wife when she found the house that became their home.

“Sharon this isn’t going to work”

“Of course it will, I love you and you love me”

“No Sharon I don’t. I don’t love you, I will always love Y/n”

“No! No you don’t James! You love me!” Sharon screamed at him.

Sighing “Listen Sharon I don’t love you, I never had. I have never been attracted to you-“

“Never been attracted to me? You’re joking right?”

“No”

“You prick!”

“We wouldn’t work anyway Sharon. You cheated on Steve with me and I cheated on Y/n with you. We would always accuse each other, we wouldn’t be happy I can promise you that”

“N-no you wouldn’t cheat on me though!”

“I cheated on my WIFE! You really think I wouldn’t do it to you? I love her for Christ sake, she’s the only person I have ever been attracted to! When I was fucking you I was thinking of her! C’mon Sharon don’t be so stupid, it doesn’t suit you” He’s only now regretting coming over here, at the time he didn’t know where else he could go.

“Yo-you ruined my marriage James” he watched her struggle to breathe for a moment “you ruined my marriage!”

“No I didn’t, you did. You are the one that made a vow to Steve not me. Like how I ruined my marriage with Y/n not you.”

“You-we made love James”

“We fucked. We didn’t make love Sharon” rolling his eyes at her petty attempt at making him change his mind.

“I-don’t-you don’t want me now? But you did earlier? You fucked me in your car, went home and get confronted by your wife, then you come here and tell me you don’t want me anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me right now?” Her anger and tears were on full display.

“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just I love Y/n more than anything. I’m going to go; I’ll see you around I guess” he was just about to touch the door handle when her voice stopped him.

“Fuck me one last time. Please James”.

And ever the fool, he did.

~~~

The months after she told him she had filed for divorce she flourished, no more crying herself to sleep, no more fake smiles and no more faking confidence. She was the happiest she had been since she caught her husband fucking a woman that was most definitely not her. Her and Steve’s friendship grew too, they became closer than ever. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, they supported one another when they needed it.

But then came their divorce to being finalised, and that’s where Y/n struggled.

Nat had forced convinced her to go and see a therapist, Dr Grey was a lovely woman who didn’t care about telling her to stop putting herself down, happily called her stupid when she blamed herself for the affair. Dr Grey - Linda as she told Y/n to call her - became a good friend, a friend she needed and wanted.

In the aftermath of her divorce she became isolated, she didn’t want to see or hear anyone that wasn’t her children. Sam being the best friend that he is, would pick up the kids and take them to school and drop them back off. Nat would go to the shops and sometimes even cook them dinner. She felt like she was causing problems for Nat and Sam because they were spending so much time running around after her that they couldn’t spend any time together.

“Don’t be stupid Y/n. You know me and Sam love you, we are more than happy to help” Nat spoke one night when they were lying in bed together.

“I feel like I’m causing problems and I don’t want you two to argue becau-“

“Y/n stop! You’re not causing problems and we are not arguing, like at all. You know Sam loves them kids of yours, he actually loves taking them to school because and I quote ‘they make me feel cool’” both women chuckle at the red heads husband “so stop милая девушка, we are both here for you, I promise”

She cried herself to sleep most nights, cried for the loss of her marriage - for weeks she would find herself going to play with the ring that use to sit on her fourth finger only for her to look down and only see a fading white tan line. Signing her maiden name not married one took months to engrain as she was just so use to writing Barnes after her name. She would find herself reaching out to the other side of the brand new double sized bed searching for his warmth, always finding it empty, always leaving her feeling alone and cold.

She cried the loss of her friendship with Sharon. They had been friends for nearly three years prior to Sharon introducing her and Bucky to each other. She was the first person Y/n would phone whenever something good and bad happened, she was actually the first person to know Y/n was pregnant with her oldest child - hell it was Sharon that told her she was pregnant as she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Y/n was always there for Sharon night or day she was there. The pain of her betrayal was almost more unbearable than Bucky’s.

Her mental and physical health took a toll too. Constantly blaming herself for not being enough for him, blaming herself for being tired sometimes to not have sex with him. Blaming herself was so much easier and safer for her than to blame the two people who hurt her. Her weight loss was concerning to Nat and Sam, although she would find herself hungry she just couldn’t stomach anything. Nat cleaned the house whilst Sam took the kids to the park as Y/n had a shower for the first time in nearly a month, she felt like she could conquer the world all because she showered, washed her hair and shaved.

Then she accepted the divorce. She accepted that she was no longer someone’s wife, she even (more dramatically) accepted that she’d be single for the rest of her life. With the help from Linda she accepted that Bucky’s affair was not her fault.

~~~

It had now been two years since they were officially divorced.

Y/n made a friend at work, Peggy. Beautiful, kind and the sweetest person. She had set her up with Steve to help him get himself back out there, they’d been dating for nearly a year. Y/n couldn’t believe how much happier he looked now, she was happy for him truly she was. She believed he deserved it.

Dating for her was, well….

“You’re absolutely glowing ангел” Nat whistled as Y/n walked into the kitchen.

“Stop flirting with me”

“I can’t help it милая девушка”

“Sam come and get your wife!”

“What’s going on?” Sam asks coming to where the women were, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple then giving Nat a quick kiss.

“Your wife keeps flirting with me”

Wiggling his eyebrows “well things can be arranged”

“Samuel!” Both women scold him but shortly after burst out laughing.

“No but I was telling her that she was glowing” Nat informed.

“You are, you seem happier as well” Sam agreed.

“Well… ikindofmetsomeone”

“What!” Both Sam and Nat shout in unison.

“I met someone..”

“Who?” When? Where? How?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the pair talking in tandem.

“His name is Ari. I literally bumped into after I ran out of the cafe after setting Steve and Peggy up on their date”.

“Is he good to you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great with the kids”

“Wait…he’s met the kids?”

“Yeah it was an accident, James said he couldn’t take the kids because of work and Ari came to pick me up for our date but ended up staying at mine. The kids love him”.

“I can’t wait to meet him!” Nat smiles.

~~~

Bucky hadn’t seen Sharon after he left the next morning, he felt ashamed and guilty for sleeping with her. For some bizarre reason he thought it would be a great idea to go to Nat and Sam’s to talk to Steve.

“Absolutely not. You’re not coming in Buck”

“Please Sam I know he’s here, I jus- I just need to talk to him”

“About what? Jesus Bucky you were having an affair with his wife!”

“I know I just need to apologise” He heard movement behind Sam, when he saw Steve’s pained expression his heart sank.

“I don’t want to hear any apologies. But you will listen to me.” Steve gives Sam a small nod, stepped further out of the doorway. “I have known you since we were kids and not once have I ever not trusted you. Not once have an ever wanted to punch you as much as right now. But.. but I’m not going to, it’s not worth it. You betrayed me man! You knew how much I loved her! And there’s Y/n, you had this perfect woman and you cheated on her!” Slightly shaking his head “you-you had the perfect family and you fucked it up by fucking my wife! I was always jealous of you, did you know that? Sharon never wanted kids so when you told me Y/n was pregnant I was jealous. You two had this perfect relationship whilst me and her were arguing all the time, I was jealous” swallowing hard and taking a deep breath “but you see James as much as I wanted the life you had I would of never and I mean never of done what you have done!”

Bucky stands there with tears rolling down his cheeks, wanting to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“You know when Y/n told me about the affair she couldn’t stop apologising, couldn’t stop crying, she even puked up. I had to calm your wife down trying to reassure her that what you did wasn’t her fault! And where were you huh? Screwing my wife!” Chuckling lightly to himself. “Me and Y/n deserve so much better than you two. I really hope it was worth it James because I can’t forgive you. And the fact you have the audacity to come here after spending the night with Sharon just proves how little you care” when he sees Bucky’s eyebrow twitch in confusion he laughs “I really can’t see Y/n giving you a hickey after she’s told your sorry ass she’s divorcing you. Goodbye James it was nice knowing you”.

Y/n was right, he was alone. He had no one in his corner. Going through the divorce process was difficult for him, like she said she wasn’t going to take anything from him. Custody had been split between them evenly as agreed. The part he was struggling with was, only being able to see her at the weekends, their conversations was just about the kids nothing more nothing less.

Then Sam started to do drop offs and pick up leaving him completely crushed. He no longer got to see her even if it was for 10 or if he was really lucky 15 minutes. The friendship he had with Sam and Nat became strained, he didn’t blame them. He did miss them though.

To deal with the loss of his marriage he turned to drinking. Sometimes he would come home from the bar and call out for Y/n, cry when he got no response, 9 out of 10 times he’d fall over and then fall asleep on the floor.

Then that dreaded day came.

Sam had long gone after dropping the kids off, he was in the middle of cooking dinner with his oldest talking about school when he heard a name he hasn’t heard before.

“Sweetheart what was that?”

“Me and Tommy and Billy are now best friends they’re new to school”

“I’m glad but not that bit baby, you said someone helped you with your homework?”

“Oh Ari, he helps me he’s so clever daddy”

“Who’s Ari?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We saw them kissing” giggling when her younger brother pulls a disgusting face.

Of course he knew that it would happen, her dating. Of course she would, she had every right to find happiness and love after he destroyed that for her. Any man would be lucky enough to be with her - she’s funny, beautiful, loving, kind and passionate, the list goes on - he should know, he was once that lucky man before he fucked it all up.

The knowledge of his now ex-wife is dating again broke something inside of him. What? He doesn’t quite know, he shouldn’t have felt anything other than happiness for her.

~~~

It was their son’s birthday party today, the squeals of close to 30 children running around the backyard full of sugar could be heard from down the street, most of their little faces decorated with face paint.

The birthday boy was currently bouncing around on the dinosaur themed bouncy castle - that he just had to have - after laying on the grass for 10 minutes complaining he was ill. Their oldest daughter was walking around showing the adults her butterfly wings that went with the butterfly paint on her face.

Y/n was rushing around making sure everything was okay and running smoothly as well and making sure everyone was having a good time. Bucky thought she looked absolutely breath taking in the white floral dress and white pumps. Her hair was up in two fishtail braids, just like his daughter.

It was the first time in two years that he saw Steve - like Y/n he looked happier, healthier, freer. The woman that was placed snuggly under his arm was beautiful and when Bucky noticed Steve’s hand position when talking to Sam he saw the pregnancy bump, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his former best friend finally getting his dream of being a dad.

The cheerful scream pulled his eyes away from Steve to his daughter who was running past him heading towards the sliding glass doors. A tall, well-built man stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

“Ari Ari - look mommy Ari’s here”

“I can see that sweetie-“

He started to struggle to breath, his own daughter was more happier to see this Ari guy than him, the smile that lit up Y/n’s beautiful face crushed him. Then it got worse for him. He watched as his former best friend go up to Ari and greeted him in the same way them two use to great each other.

~~~

Going back to the once lively and warm house that he once called home the realisation of how truly alone Bucky was, was a tough pill for him to swallow.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Love of my life | D.R.

Daniel Ricciardo x younger!reader

Summary: What happens when you confess your profound love to the person whose heart you broke? How fragile is the hope of reconciliation?

Warnings: comforting angst??? (idk even im in my feels)

Word count: ~1.2K

^^

“Hiding from me?” the velvety voice behind you felt more familiar than you’d like it to.

“Should I?” you turned your eyes away from the dark ocean before you and met his eyes. Gosh he looked handsome and you could feel your body react to him, still the same as it was, gentle shock waves weaving through your fingertips.

“God I hope not…” he sat down beside you on the straw beach furniture. You were trying to keep your gaze on the horizon of the ocean where water seemed to bleed into the dark night sky and become one.

You could hear him take a deep breath, it was shaky and an uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut as if foreseeing that his following words would remind you of something you had been trying to keep buried for the last 5 months.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight…” he spoke out softly, his eyes on your silhouette, encaged by the silver glory of the full moon you looked untouchable. And he knew that you were untouchable to him, no matter how much his palms seemed to have thoughts of their own and wished to just reach out to you, and relish in the touch of your silky skin just like he’d done months ago.

“Why not? You know I didn’t attend all those parties just because of you,” you held your stare stoic, letting yourself get lost in the starry night sky, counting the stars only so you’d hold yourself back from latching on the man sitting beside you.

Nothing could have you forget the day you’d met him. Ironically it was a party that you had only attended because you were dying to catch a glimpse of the charming man that he was. Luckily, at least that’s what you thought at that very moment, you had caught his eye and soon enough you were carrying his heart in your hands and he was carrying yours. Although now after everything, you believe you might have been wrong about the later…

“Y/n… I just want to say-”

“Please don’t say it, don’t apologize again,” you turned to him almost instantly which left him speechless, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight reminiscent of the various jewels he used to clasp around your neck and the supple kisses he’d leave there throughout the day, but the jewels that adorned your eyes now weren’t a consequence of a blissful time together, “I will not hear it again… I do not need to be reminded of that… time”, you lowered your head trying to catch your breath and the lonely tears from falling.

“Baby,” he kept his hands secured in tight fists, too easy to lose control now that he could see tears escaping out of your eyes and cascading down your cheeks. He still remembers the salty streaks from the last time he’d been this close to you. How could he ever forget when the pain he’s been carrying in his chest for so long never denied itself. You had given his heart back to him, but you sure took a piece of it for yourself before that, though how could he blame you when he had done the same… to have the smallest part of you and suffer rather than have no memory of you was and would always be Daniel’s first and only choice.

“Daniel,” your eyes traveled back to his warm eyes, the same one’s that had made you all the promises of a perfect tomorrow. One that never came. One that you still let yourself dream about whenever the air smelled like the cologne you’d gifted him, the one he was still wearing now…

Looking at him you wished you could hate him, you wished to be physically repulsed by the man in front of you, maybe that would help you walk away now and continue living as you once had. Striving for the brightest most delightful future, without looking back at the old dark days, but he has possessed your mind, you can no longer make a step without seeing him there, what if’s about the past clouding your future. How could he sit there and give you those eyes… those gorgeous sad eyes. You bit back your lip. You could no longer kiss his sad eyes and see them light back up after.

“Y/n… you were the love of my life,” he accepts the torture that is to come his way, he knows he deserves it for the crime he just committed. Tears were fully running down your cheeks now, large droplets falling into the sand beneath your feet and disappearing right away, like they were never there…

“Why are you doing this to me, Daniel?” you instinctively covered your face with your palms as sobs made your shoulders tremble, hiding the tears from him even if he’s seen them already. You hated nothing more than for him to see you cry.

“I just… I felt that you had to know, because I never told you how much I actually loved you. I treated you so wrong for a very long time and I am to blame for that… I was the shitty older guy who took advantage of someone who didn’t know what she was doing…”

“That was the problem, Daniel. You always viewed me as a child…I am young, but I am not a kid and I can make decisions for myself. You might regret me, but I know the choices I made and I have no remorse over them,” your heart ached. How unfortunate is it to meet the love of your life and understand that they never truly saw you as their equal.

“The only thing I regret is not doing more to get to know you and… leaving you behind… I was in the wrong, so please do not cry darling…” his voice sounded so different, he was breaking from the inside out seeing you this way. He leaned closer to you, his warm palms encompassing your wrists to reveal your face to him.

Two pairs of teary eyes stared into one another.

The both of you took in a shaky breath in, which finally broke the suffocating tension and helped your lips ease into a simple smile. Daniel wiped at your cheeks, his touch ghostly light, removing the salty puddles, before gracing your forehead with an effortless kiss.

“I’m sorry too, Daniel,” you leaned back just so you could once again let yourself go and drown in his warm eyes, completely forgetting your morals and bringing back the buried feelings you couldn’t not tell him, “You were also the love of my life…”

Now it was Daniel’s turn to let the tears flow. And he did. He wished he had you, all of you, he wished to cry on your shoulder whenever a race went wrong, he wished to have your attentive hands run through his curls and soothe him when the air seemed to get too heavy. Most importantly he wished he had said it sooner, the short ‘L’ word, because if he had, you’d be home, tangled in bed together with big tranquil smiles on your faces.

Instead you two were crying on a beach together, reminiscing on what would have been if it could have been. But it was enough for Daniel, even if he was crying, at the very least he was crying with you… the love of his life…

^^

A.N. loving older men is not a hobby, it's a lifestyle<3

[goatpaste]

Alrighty, this has been something I'v been putting off for awhile because I really just wanted to save all the money myself but I just dont think its gonna be able to happen anytime soon and I'm tired of putting it off for Daisy's sake

but this is officially the Donation Post for us to start pooling together money to move daisy up from Texas to Pennsylvania. I'll bore you with the details under the cut but in the mean time here is links and info on the ways you can support the move!

[My commissions are Open] [My Etsy is Open]

[My Kofi were i offer PWYW commissions as low at 3$]

[My Toyhouse has designs for sale on it]

[You can Donate here and all the saving made toward this will be going directly into savings]

These are all the ways you can directly support us and help us work toward the goal of getting Daisy into a safe and better environment! I know not everyone is going to be able to chip in but anything helps even reblogs and sharing around! We've been talking about this move for over a year and I want to try and move her by the end of this year at the latest.

For more info on our specific situation and bit more details, please read under the cut

Daisy has been my friend since we were 6 years old, she is like a sister to me! We've been at each others side through thick and thin and I care about her so much.

Daisy's home life has never been the best and her parents are nightmare people who are a blight on the general public but as well as Daisy's home life.

Daisy doesnt have the ability to drive, work or save her own money even when she did work as her mother would take the money she earned constantly, and was ultimately the reason Daisy was unable to keep her job.

So for Daisy's end she has no ability to save and moving funds, it will primarily be on me to round up the money.

We are not 100% sure how much we are going to need at this moment in time but have a rough estiment.

Were hoping to get Daisy's mother on a good mood and have her pay for Daisy's plane ticket. We are going to be unable to move all her stuff and will just have to pack as much as she can into a large suitcase and fly up. So we will not have to pay for the plane, but will have to pay for bedding, and everything else she will need once up here. we have some temporary arrangements Via my bed and couch and potentially picking up a blow up mattress. But my current apartment is extremely small and not much room for two people let alone just me. Not sure how long I will be in this space while Daisy is up here if at all.

I may potentially reach out to my step father and ask him to dip into the savings he has kept for me to get Daisy furniture and necessities. But im avoiding that for as much as i can as im not on the best terms with my dad.

I will start looking for a bigger place for us to live together once we start getting in a comfortable area on savings. As the only money maker currently i will be needing savings to afford a place for us to share that will of course be much more expensive than where i am right now. Daisy will start looking for a job once she is/has moved up here and hopefully we will be able to support ourselves at that point, it will just be the first little bit of time we will need a cushion.

this is one of the areas im not 100% sure how much were going to need but certain in the thousands area knowing rent for a place big enough for two individuals.

after that its just gonna be us figuring it out.

but this is the situation as it stands right now, we are trying to help a trans woman out of her shitty living situation and across the country where her friends who love and care and want to support her are. We dont know exactly how much its going to be, but its going to be a lot and were really just looking for a bit of support!

thank yall so much!

[yandere-writer-momo]

🌶️ Yandere Baki Shorts:

Haunted 🌶️

Yandere Poltergeist Retsu x Afab reader

Minors Do Not Interact

Will you please buy me coffee?

“Now you won’t find a house quite like this one again!” The realtor exclaimed as he guided a young woman through the antique house. It was so strange to find a traditional Chinese home in Japan of all places, especially for such a low price… she couldn’t beat it with the way the housing market was. “It’s completely furnished and it’s already quite advanced for its time.”

(Your name) nods along with the realtor. She ignored his ramblings of all the traditional decor. She just wanted to move in as soon as possible to get out of where she was currently. Any home was better than where she resided.

“Now before you buy this place, I am obligated to tell you that someone died here.” The realtor told (your name) with a grim expression. “But it happened many years ago when this house was first built.”

“Oh… that’s not a problem-“

“It was a murder.” The realtor interrupted her. “Something about the lover’s spat? I’m not entirely sure what the story is.”

“That’s perfectly alright. I’ll take it.” (Your name) smiled at the realtor. She couldn’t beat a bargain like this… it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Yes… once in a lifetime.

.

.

.

(Your name) unloaded the last box from her car and wiped the sweat off her brow. Her eyes glanced over at the small stack of boxes in the living room.

It was a blessing that the house was already furnished, it meant she didn’t have to spend a fortune on furniture now.

(Your name admired the oriental decorations around the home. It was an extremely traditional home but she found it to be relaxing… almost like she’s been here before…

There was a part of her that felt like this home was familiar. That this specific house was somewhere she has been before despite her never seeing it until now. She was feeling dèjá vu.

(Your name) carried a few of the boxes towards the master bedroom to begin to unpack. She folded and hung up a few clothes, her hands smoothed out the wrinkles.

A yawn escaped her lips, the woman frowned a bit. Maybe she should take a nap before she continued? It’s not like she had a lot to unpack still… it could wait.

(Your name) stretched a bit and made her way towards the large king sized bed with red silk sheets. It was strange that they were so clean but who was she to complain? The scent of amber and mint lulled her into a quick sleep.

A coldness filled the room, the clothes were picked up by a seemingly invisible force as they were neatly folded and put away.

A chill racked through (your name)’s body, a few strands of her hair stuck straight up in the air. A pair of cold lips affectionately pressed against the strands.

“My húdié… you’ve finally come home to me…”

(Your name) stirred a bit in her sleep but didn’t wake up from the coldness in the home. Instead, she nestled herself deeper into the blankets.

The apparition ran his fingers through her locks, his dark eyes refused to leave her face. His soulmate was finally home with him again�� and this time, he’d never let her go…

.

.

.

(Your name) woke up a few hours later with a refreshed feeling. She hadn’t meant to nap for that long, but her body thanked her for the much needed rest. It’s been a while since she’s slept so nicely.

(Your name) slung herself over the bed, her eyes glanced at the boxes she had left to unpack… but they weren’t there.

(Your name) rose up from the sheets to check out her closet, only to see her clothes were out away exactly the way she puts them away. Huh… maybe she did finish unpacking before she took that nap…

(Your name) decided not to think about it too much since she was still in the process of being awake. Perhaps she should grab a bite to eat?

(Your name) entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, only to see there was a container in there with her name on it… that was strange.

She opened it to see a neatly made lunch box. It looked delicious…

“How thoughtful…” (your name) smiled as she began to eat the thoughtfully prepared me. It was… “delicious.”

(Your name) savored the meal, unaware of the figure that observed her from the corner. Her tastes were still the same… he was so happy that she hadn’t changed after all these years… it made everything so much easier.

.

.

.

(Your name) noticed a strange presence in her home. She constantly felt eyes on her and sometimes she’d feel a cold draft whenever she was in bed or curled up on the couch. It was bizarre but it didn’t make her afraid… just uneasy.

(Your name) spent most of her time reading in the garden. The peonies and azaleas were in full bloom. The pink and white flowers gave the garden such a cozy, romantic feel to it. Someone must have loved whoever they built it for more than anything in the world…

(Your name) admired the koi fish in the pond that swam under the lily pads. The lotus flowers were fragrant warmed her heart.

“I love it here…” She couldn’t believe she had bought this house for such a steal. This place was a dream come true… she couldn’t believe people didn’t want to stay…

(Your name)’s fingers touched one of the lotus flowers with a smile. They were so beautiful… a shame she couldn’t pluck them.

(Your name) roses up and began to collect her things, unaware of a certain figure that sensed her dissatisfaction.

When she ducked back into the building, the ghostly figure plucked the lotus flower out of the pond.

“Anything to make my húdié happy…”

.

.

.

To say she was shocked would be an understatement at the sight before her… the lotus flower sat in a glass bowl on her counter.

“W-what?” She made he was over to the counter to check it out in confusion. Who could have plucked it for her?

(Your name) felt a chill go down her spin when something cold touched the back of her neck. She whipped her head around to see what touched her, but there wasn’t anything there…

“H-hello?” (Your name) asked softly. But there was no response… this was so strange…

And the haunting began…

.

.

.

(Your name) would wake up to the scent of breakfast being made every morning but there was never a single dirty dish. Only a plate sitting on the counter for her to eat and a freshly brewed cup of tea.

It’s been like this for the last few months… almost like she was getting breakfast made for her by her spouse…

Did she have a stalker? Who would go so far out of their way to take care of her?

She’d swear she’d hear someone humming next to her while she slept but there wouldn’t be anyone there… she was starting to become afraid…

Could it be a relative of the person who died in this house that didn’t want this house to be owned by anyone other than family?

(Your name) messaged her realtor about who the person was that died in this house. She wanted answers… there wasn’t a single logical explanation for the bizarre happenings in this house.

She was just grateful that this person, if she could even say that, only held utmost admiration for her.

A ghastly figure frowned at her dissatisfaction. She didn’t want to leave did she? No… he wouldn’t let (your name) leave him again… she was going to stay this time.

.

.

.

A call in the middle of the night woke her up from her deep sleep. The young woman groaned in annoyance but answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s the realtor… and I found something super spooky about that house.” (Your name) sat up, she was no wide awake at his words. Spooky? What did he mean by spooky?

“And what did you find?”

“Well, there was a couple that lived in that house almost a hundred years ago. Their names were Kaioh Retsu and… (your full name).” (Your name) froze in pure shock. The person who lived in this house was her? What?

“Please tell me you’re joking-“

“No. I wish I was… this Kaioh Retsu was an esteemed Kenpo master and he built the house for his wife, (your name).” The realtor began to ramble. “It seems he was really obsessed with his wife. He did everything for her so it was crazy when she killed him.”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold. Killed him… his wife murdered him? Why? Why would she kill her doting husband?

“I did some digging and it seemed he killed all of her friends and family since they didn’t approve of her being with a foreigner. They say she died shortly after murdering her husband.” The realtor sucked in a breath. “The picture of the wife in this photo looks exactly like you… I’ll send it to you.”

(Your name) began to shake like a leaf at the photo. She looked eerily similar to the wife but the man… the man was far more handsome than she expected. He had a muscular physique and long black hair that was in a braid. Retsu didn’t look like the type who would murder his wife’s family and friends…

“Pretty freaky right-“ Her phone suddenly shut off. The woman feeling a cold presence behind her and what felt like hands on her waist.

“Who are you talking to?” A deep voice whispered in her ear. And that’s when she saw him… the man from the photo. Kaioh Retsu.

(Your name)’s eyes were wide in shock and horror. Ghosts weren’t real… what?

Retsu wrapped his hands firmly around her wrists.

“(Your name)… don’t be scared.” Retsu’s hands cupped her cheeks. But rather than the warmth of flesh, all she felt was a cold draft touching her skin. “It’s me… it’s your husband, Retsu.”

(Your name) could only tremble as the apparition slowly became more visible as a man rather than a cloud of mist. Even in such a ghostly form, she could tell he was still handsome.

Retsu smiled at her. He was glad she found him physically attractive just like she used to. She didn’t have as many friends anymore nor did she have a family. It made it all the easier…

Retsu leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. His hands eagerly explored her soft flesh.

“My húdié… I’m so happy you’re here.” And with a light force, he pushed her back into the bed. His icy hands pushed her shirt up, the frigid touch made her shiver. “My beautiful wife…”

“W-wait! I’m not-“ His lips pressed against hers to silence her protests as his fingers harshly flicked her nipples. A soft whine escaped her lips at the motion.

“You’re still sensitive here… where else are you still sensitive?” Retsu’s hand dipped down between her legs, his expertly fingers stroking her clothed cunt. “It’s been almost a century since I last touched you and you’re still so beautiful…”

(Your name) threw back her head when his fingers hooked around the edge of her panties and pushed them off to the side to dip his cold fingers inside. Her cavern tightening around the foreign intrusion in shock.

“You’re tighter than I remember… but maybe that’s because you don’t remember the shape of my cock?” Retsu chuckled at her glazed over expression. His fingers thrusting in and out of her warmth at a speed that wasn’t human. “You sound so beautiful, húdié and you’re so wet.”

She was lost in bliss, stars were practically seen from how his thumb grazed over her clit so deliciously. This ghostly man was better than any vibrator she’s ever had… she was close.

“Ah!” (Your name) threw back her head, her orgasm rocked through her body like an earthquake. Retsu smiled down at her satisfied expression. She’s never had such satisfaction before… not from anyone or anything…

“My wife looks so happy… here. Let me give you more.” Retsu gently began to discard her clothes off her limp body. The man sung her praises the whole time. “You’re so soft… so lovely.”

(Your name) didn’t have firm to bask in her bliss before she felt something cold and thick press against her entrance. Her body sitting up a bit to see that Retsu was now bare before her. His traditional clothing discarded to reveal himself to her.

And without a word, he pushed in. Her head thrown back as a strangled cry escaped her lips. Retsu simply smiling at her reactions.

“You’re being so good for me… you’re taking me so well.” Retsu shushed her whines, his fingers wiped away her tears. “We’re one again… I’m finally with my wife again.”

And Retsu began to slowly thrust himself in and out of her. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. He was the perfect size and the right amount of thickness to make her feel so full… she felt so satisfied.

“Does it feel good, my húdié? I want to hear you…”

“Y-yes… I feel good.” (Your name) cried out when Retsu slowly started to get a little rougher. “P-please don’t stop!”

Retsu smirked, his hips postponed into hers at a pleasurable speed. His hands grasped her hips upward to hit her at her favorite angle. His perfect wife was still the same… and he was determined to keep her this time.

“I can make you feel like this all the time… won’t that be lovely?” Retsu chuckled when he noticed her tethering towards another orgasm. “I’ll give you endless love and pleasure forever… all you had to do is say it.”

“Retsu!” (Your name) cried out, her fingers digging into his arms to try to get a grasp on herself and the overwhelming pleasure she felt. This was entirely all too much for her to handle…

“Say you want forever with me!” Retsu grunted, his thrusts border lining brutal to try to get her to comply to what he wanted.

“I-I-“ (your name) could feel her orgasm right there. She was so close… so close… “I want to stay with you forever!”

And that’s when the biggest orgasm she’s ever had racked through her body. The sheets a mess as Retsu fucked her through it. Her eyes rolled back and her toes curled with pleasure.

Her body went slack but Retsu kept gently thrusting into her. The ghost pressed cold kisses all over her exposed skin. His teeth nipped at her nipples with a smile.

“Of course you can… you can stay…” (Your name) felt a wave of fatigue wash through her but Retsu kept moving. “You’ll be so happy when you wake up.”

.

.

.

(Your name) screamed I’m horror at the sight of her body in front of her. She was a ghost now… what happened?

“It’s okay, xiǎo bǎo bèi. It’s okay…” Retsu kissed her shoulders in reassurance. The man placing his hand over her eyes. “We can be together now… forever.”

(Your name) tried to flee but she found herself being bounced back by an invisible force when she reached the door.

“Xiǎo bǎo bèi… ghosts cannot leave the place where they died…”

“How did I die?” (Your name) sobbed, hee eyes stared into Retsu’s who’s held a sadness to them. “Did you-“

“Not purposely… I didn’t think I’d drain all your life force.” Retsu shook, the man rushed forward to pull her into his arms. “You weren’t supposed to die! I swear! I just made love to you…”

Retsu began to cry as he held her. “But hey… we can be together now. I promise you that we can enjoy our after life together. I’ll even help you bury your body, okay?”

(Your name) could only sob in his arms as he held her. This was never supposed to happen… she wasn’t supposed to end up being a part of this house with this obsessive man.

She would forever be haunted by him…

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Drugged Hero Whumpee used as Party Favor at Villain's Party part 5

Warnings: torture, blood, restraints, blindfolded, gagged, living weapon, captured

This story of mine had been left at a cliffhanger for some time, but here is a part 5, as requested by @emmarose2009!

"I... am good to my word." Archenemy pressed a single button... and all the lights in the mansion went dark at all once, plunging the party into chaos.

Shadow's head was spinning, but her world sharpened to a blast of pain as rough hands grabbed her and yanked her off the couch. She felt herself being slung over a broad shoulder where she draped limply like the dead weight she was. In any other circumstance she would have fought back, but everything hurt too much, and even though her mind was foggy with pain, she was lucid enough to distinguish help from hurt. So she let it happen.

The terrified screams of party guests rattled in her skull, along with the sound of scraping furniture as panicking people tripped and toppled over each other in the dark. But whoever was carrying Shadow seemed to have no problem navigating through the mayhem, though every step jarred Shadow's injuries.

Shadow gritted her teeth and focused on continuing to breathe with tight lungs, even as her body blazed with agony at all the sudden movements that her rescuer -- and likely enemy -- made.

The sound of a door banging open -- and then city lights, lights that scorched Shadow's retinas and made her wince as cold air hit her stinging injuries. She managed to conclude she was outside of Villain's dreaded mansion, at least. But the feeling of freedom didn't last long before she felt herself being carelessly stuffed like luggage into the backseat of a car.

She inhaled a sharp breath as she landed ungracefully on leather cushions, and a fleeting thought flashed through her mind that bleeding all over her rescuer's expensive car probably wouldn't be the best way to get in their good graces, but then she remembered who her rescuer was, and all sense of security vanished in an instant. Besides, it wasn't like she could help it! Blood was everywhere on her, and if she didn't have rapid regeneration, she would have long since bled out. Any normal human would already be dead by now.

She was flopped on her side, breathing hard when she felt air displace near her as someone else climbed into the backseat with her, slamming the door closed. She groaned in protest, but that was as much strength as she had, blood snaking from the corners of her mouth and flowing freely from her nose.

"Drive," a harsh voice barked, and the sound of tires screeching on asphalt followed as the vehicle lurched into motion. Shadow felt someone grabbing at her hands, and instinctively started to struggle, pulling away with a hiss.

"Come now, none of that," a terrifyingly familiar voice cooed. It made Shadow seize up in fear. Her vision was hazy, but her eyes darted to the source of the sound, making out a dark, blurry outline hovering over her. She moaned in pain as a hard elbow dug into her ribs, a body pressing on top to pin her down while cold metal cuffs snapped onto her wrists like the final nail in the coffin. Her ankles soon followed, shackled together by cruel, unforgiving metal.

Shadow jerked away when something dark and fabric-like was raised to her face, startled, but her head only hit the seat, there was nowhere to go as a cloth blindfold was tied tightly around her head.

"You won't be needing your sight for awhile," Archenemy chuckled into her ear, making her shiver.

"When I get out of these, I swear I will kill--mmff!" Shadow made a weak effort at snarling an insult, which died the instant a piece of sharp metal was forced into her mouth, making her gag and choke as it pressed down hard on her tongue. Leather touched her face, and she realized that it was a muzzle, as if she were a dog that could be controlled -- pathetic.

"You won't be needing your voice, either," Archenemy added, though this time his tone was flat, mildly annoyed. "I can't have you biting me, either - I know you have a reputation for it."

Shadow would have laughed, if the barbaric muzzle would have allowed it. He must have been referring to the time she bit one of his henchmen's fingers off when they tried to attack her. Served them right, though.

Shadow moved her tongue around the metal bit in her mouth, trying to earn some relief from the pressure and pain, but it was futile. The metal was slicing into her tongue and the corners of her mouth, and the taste of copper soon washed over her taste buds.

A scared whine slipped past her gruff composure when she felt Archenemy's hands slide around her head.

"Take a nap if it suits you, hero -- you sure need it. It's going to be a bit of a drive." That was the last thing she heard before something solid clamped over her ears, making her deaf to the world.

It was a gut-wrenching panic that made her breath catch in her throat, unable to hear, see, or speak, and trapped in enemy territory. She had no way of knowing where she was being taken, what Archenemy planned to do with her.

Her breaths came faster, she couldn't seem to get enough air in, her head buzzing with static silence, an empty void of nothingness cocooning her in total darkness. No sense of direction, all there was was pain, and the feeling of the car occasionally hitting bumps in the road.

Stay calm... Stay calm... Stay calm... She told herself again and again. It did little to ease the terror gripping her racing heart in its vise-like jaws.

She was embarrassed when a small tear leaked out of one eye, quickly absorbed by the blindfold. She was supposed to be Hero, a brave, fearless fighter! But she'd never felt more scared in her entire life than right now. Every second that passed was like a death sentence, bringing her closer and closer to her end. It went on forever, before finally... the car came to an abrupt stop.

Shadow didn't even bother struggling as she was roughly dragged out, bound and gagged, muzzled and blindfolded. She still couldn't hear, which made it all the more terrifying to be moved. A little overkill on the restraints, to be honest.

Either Archenemy was overestimating how dangerous she was by a long shot, or he knew exactly how dangerous she was. Shadow was one of the most notorious heroes, known for her morally-gray qualities and for being cold and calculating and hard to take down. She sometimes ventured suspiciously close to villain territory with how she went about fighting crime. It made her more feared than adored among citizens who were grateful to have criminals taken off the streets, but too scared to speak out about her unusual methods of winning.

Shadow couldn't walk on her own with how tightly she was chained, and she felt her face flush with humiliation as a pair of arms picked her up and started carrying her off. Soon enough she was tossed somewhere cold and damp, and she grunted as she hit solid concrete after an unfriendly shove.

A door slammed shut, and she was left all alone... blind to everything around her. She waited several beats, and when nothing else interacted with her, she quickly got to work twisting her arms and hands to try and get some of the restraints off. She pawed frantically at her head with her bound hands, managing to knock off whatever sound-canceling headphones had been put on. It was a massive relief when the sound of her own shaky breathing hit her ears again, comforting in all its simplistic familiarity. She took a second to relish it, savor the experience before continuing.

It was hard to move, both from the shackles and severe injuries inhibiting her movements... but eventually she got the blindfold halfway off so she could see out of one eye. She worked on the muzzle next for a good fifteen minutes with no progress -- she only succeeded in slicing her mouth up with the metal bit until a bloody froth was drooling out the front of the muzzle, blood mixed with saliva she couldn't swallow thanks to the cruel bit keeping her mouth slightly open.

The mocking click of a tongue from somewhere close by made her freeze and forget all about wriggling free. Archenemy was here. She'd never heard him come in. Or maybe he'd been here the whole time watching her helplessly struggle, but whatever the reason he was here.

"Have you gotten it all out of your system yet?" His voice drawled.

Shadow craned her head to glare with her one free eye, though she knew she must look ridiculous with the blindfold half on still. Archenemy was sitting nonchalantly in a chair in the corner, unconcerned as ever at her disheveled and haggard appearance.

"Wuff oo uunn wanff? (What do you want)" She tried to form words around the bit, but it was too tight and painful in her mouth and on her tongue, and all that came out was incoherent noises.

Archenemy just flashed a charming smile before casually getting up and gracefully striding over to her. Shadow's eyes widened with a flicker of genuine fear, and she quickly scooted back to the furthest wall from him, flattening against the surface as best she could.

"Shhh, there's no need for that. I'm only taking the muzzle off so you can speak. Got it?" Archenemy didn't give her a chance to answer before he was reaching for her face, grabbing her jaw in a tight hand to hold it still.

Shadow squealed in pain and jerked away from his touch, but he didn't yield, swiftly sliding his other hand around behind her head to unbuckle the straps holding the muzzle in place. He pulled the blood-soaked muzzle away in one smooth motion along with his hands so she couldn't bite them.

Shadow licked her cracked lips as she watched Archenemy's gaze lock on to the shredded corners of her mouth, watched him frown.

"Open," Archenemy commanded.

Shadow kept her mouth closed, eyeing him warily.

"Open your mouth now, or I will force you to. The choice is yours."

Shadow knew he wasn't joking, and hastily unlocked her jaws, wincing as the movement tore the corners of her mouth open further, leaking fresh blood.

"You shouldn't have tried to take the muzzle off yourself," Archenemy scolded. "You've practically ripped the inside of your mouth to bloody ribbons."

Shadow closed her mouth with a scowl, saying nothing. A charged silence fell between them, full of tension, before Archenemy spoke again.

"Well, like I said -- I am good to my word. I'm going to have you cleaned up and treated. However... my hospitality comes at a price."

"I would never expect anything less, coming from you," Shadow rasped dryly, her voice thin and scratchy. "What do you want from me?" She spat the words like poison.

"I want your power. To heal from practically any wound... it's an astonishing gift I've never understood. But I plan to. I plan to find the limits of your abilities, find a way to use it." Archenemy leaned close, eyes sharp and power-hungry. "You are mine. And I will find a way to control you."

Shadow shuddered involuntarily at the certainty with which he said it, the blatant confidence. It rattled her to the core. "What makes you so sure?" She intended it to sound defiant, but it came out shaky and weak, and Archenemy's smug smile broadened at that.

"Because I've already managed something similar once, so it shouldn't be too hard to accomplish. I already have one living weapon right here in this exact base we're in, so creating a second seems manageable enough."

A living weapon...? Shadow's blood went cold as ice.

Archenemy laughed at her shocked silence. "Who knows, maybe my weapon will finally have some company!"

"That's outrageous!" Shadow sputtered angrily, finally finding her voice. "I'm a person, you can't control me like some pathetic dog!"

"Not yet, but I will," Archenemy said smoothly without hesitation. He stood up, straightening his jacket. "I'll give you time for your gift to heal you before I begin my experiments, and after I get you cleaned up. You are filthy."

Shadow wished she could argue with that, but he was right; she was a disaster. Fading bruises mottled her skin deep shades of blacks and purples, and dozens of vicious injuries were still knitting closed painfully slow, leaving fresh scars in their wake. Her clothes were fully drenched in her own blood that had puddled around her shivering form. She watched miserably as Archenemy turned on his heel and left the room, locking the door to her new prison shut behind him.

Shadow leaned her head back to clunk against the wall with a groan, her tender wounds aching and throbbing with pain as they healed. Even when the physical wounds themselves were gone, the pain would still linger with her for a few days, to her dismay. But for now she tried to rest -- she'd need her strength if she wanted any hope of escaping later.

The pain kept her awake, and she had barely managed to drift off when the lock clicked, and she instantly snapped to alertness as the door swung open. Archenemy strode in... followed by someone else. Shadow's breath hitched when she saw them.

It was Other Hero, the same hero who'd disappeared five years ago after an intense battle with Supervillain, presumed dead. But here she was, standing right before Shadow's eyes, very much alive. Shadow recognized her in an instant.

"Ava!" Shadow gasped in shock. Why wasn't she attacking Archenemy? Why wasn't she fighting back?

Ava just stood there at Archenemy's side, a glassy, distant look in her amber eyes, like she wasn't all there. Staring blankly at the wall above Shadow's heads, expressionless. Something was terribly wrong.

"W-What did you do to her?!" Shadow snapped.

"Oh, nothing much... just rewired her a bit, found what makes her tick, what pleases her, and used it against her." Archenemy shrugged as though it were the simplest and most insignificant thing ever. Then he gestured to Ava. "Kindly help our guest up and bring her to me," he ordered.

And to Shadow's horror, Ava obeyed without a flicker of hesitation, that frighteningly blank look still in her eyes as she came up and grabbed Shadow under the arms, slinging her effortlessly over a shoulder.

Shadow grunted and tried to push or kick her away, but with her ankles and wrists bound, it was nearly impossible to fight.

"Stop that! Let her go!" Shadow snarled at Archenemy.

"No," Archenemy said simply, "I think not. She belongs to me. Like you do now, only you haven't been... trained yet."

Shadow gaped at him in disbelief as Ava shifted her higher on her shoulder before marching over to Archenemy and waiting patiently for further instruction.

Archenemy smirked, and roughly grabbed Shadow's jaw from where she hung limply, forcing her to meet his steely gaze. "Do you see, now? Ava here is a perfect example of success. She represents what I want from you: complete. Full. Control."

"But... I gave you what you wanted at Villain's party..." Shadow protested weakly.

Archenemy let her jaw go with a cruel laugh. "You did... and I did what was promised in return. I got you out of there alive. I never said anything about giving you your freedom once you were out."

Shadow's gut twisted with panic and dread. She'd played right into his hands... she'd been so desperate to escape Villain's mansion and escape the torture that she'd fallen right into the trap. Put the noose around her own neck.

For a heartbeat she thought about bashing Archenemy in the face with her bound hands, but she knew resistance was pointless. She was hardly a threat in her terrible state of health anyway.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

Masterlist #2

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump @ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things

[bonny-kookoo]

OT7: Tongue Tied (Intro)

In which you're not supposed to be the solution for all of the problems- but maybe you're just that; the missing piece.

Tags/Warnings: SFW, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader, Wolf!BTS, Dog!Reader, strangers to ???, fluff, some angst, insecurities & very openly emotional reader

Length: long

A/N: the next chapters will, one by one, focus more on each member getting closer to the mc.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"She will stay in a separate space we've been renovating for her at the company building." The manager says, well aware that the seven boys are very much not on board with the whole plan. "So you'll basically just have to interact with her for the camera and on certain schedules. Listen, I know you don't like the idea but it's the best way of making you guys seem.. less.. dangerous, after all that happened." He carefully phrases.

Jungkook scoffs. Namjoon clenches his jaw at that reaction, ready to scold. Taehyung sighs, tired of the constant fighting.

It was something the company had been fearing for quite some time now. And now, it's come to a point where even the public has noticed the growing tensions within the hybrid band- everyone on edge, easily irritated by each other. Originally, everyone had always thought it would be fine if they 'grew up' alongside each other, especially with Jungkook having been so young when he joined the company and group. But it didn't really matter down the line, it seems like, because by now, the air is constantly thick with frustration.

For the fans all over the world, the group full of hybrids, a somewhat traditional 'packing wolves, has been nothing but perfect and a shining representation of how far hybrids can come nowadays in terms of reaching success and wealth. But behind closed doors, it's headaches, fights, arguments and stress for everyone involved.

From trying to somehow keep track of their heats to re-scheduling things over and over again because the person interviewing or hosting at the event might be an unmated hybrid that could set off any of the guys at just a glance. They're all of a category two, technically independent and mostly human- but sometimes, staff would like to argue against that. Jungkook and Jimin can be harder to control than a horde of toddlers sometimes, while Yoongi and Namjoon are sometimes just plain scary. Taehyung literally does what he wants together with Seokjin, and Hoseok usually keeps to himself. Its all a mess, really.

Especially now that the cracks had begun to show to the public as well.

"Why a category five though?" Jin argues from the side. "You've been complaining about us for years now. And we're the most 'normal' one might say." He air quotes as he speaks.

"If they see you being kind to a category five like her-" the manager explains himself, "-they highly likely will calm down."

"Or start letting their frustrations out on her." Namjoon disagrees. "If they smell just a hint of any of us liking her in any way they'll go rabid."

"So what? It's not like she'll properly understand the situation, or talk about it to anybody." The manager shakes his head. "She will live at the company building, like I said. That's top security around her twenty-four-seven, and she will also have regular caretakers- staff will look after her for you, you don't have to interact with her at all apart from scheduled activities. It'll be fine." He tries, and everyone sighs.

Well- it's not like they've got the last word either way.

---

Jungkook is a sensitive person.

Not as in weak, but as in, his senses are very much sharp enough to notice even the slightest changes in something. And so when the first furniture is delivered, first boxes with what he assumes to be the new hybrid's personal items, there's something in the air he can't quite put a finger on.

"Oh, Jungkook-ssi!" One of the staff almost runs into him, as he stands alone in the dark and rather small space you'll be living in soon. "I almost locked you in. Is there something you need?" She asks, and he shakes his head.

Something about the faint scent of yours clinging to some of the items placed, like the blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, makes him wonder what will happen from now on. You're being used for higher gain- and in a way, he wonders if you'll know that, or if you're not able to understand the complexity of the situation like his managers had claimed. A category five doesn't mean you're mentally challenged, after all. You're just a bit more hybrid than he, or the rest of the guys are.

And somehow, it all just suddenly feels so fucked up to him.

"No, sorry, I just wanted to.. look around I guess." He offers the staff member who nods kindly, before he leaves to go home.

Somehow feeling a little heavy inside.

---

"Am I the only one who thinks this is fucked up?" Yoongi sighs as they all laze around in the living room area of the dorm they share. "We don't even know where the fuck they get that hybrid from."

"With the way they're talking about her it feels as if she must be from a carecenter or something alike." Seokjin offers from the side. "After all, they did mention that she needs help in looking after herself." He notes, and Taehyung chimes in at that.

"I mean I get the idea but.. it's still odd to 'use' her for that. And what if she doesn't even like us?" He shakes his head. "Category five's are pretty obvious in what they're thinking. It's not like they can just tell her to act the part."

Everyone falls silent at that. The wolf hybrid has a point here- if she doesn't play the part well, what will happen then?

"Well- not that I care." Hoseok announces, getting up. "And neither should you guys. We're getting paid to entertain people, nothing more." He simply mumbles to himself, leaving to go to bed. And he's probably right too- the less the guys think about what the situation means to you, the better. And done the line, the space given to you at the company building is definitely better than any shelter or carecenter you're probably currently residing at.

Jungkook however isn't convinced. He's still remembering that odd feeling he had earlier standing in between all those things that smelled like you.

And he's got a feeling that this whole 'plan' will probably not go the way they all planned it to.

---

Despite everyone's varying levels of interest in you at first, it's pretty clear that today, the date you'll be officially moving in, the entire pack is equally as eager to get a glimpse of you.

"Remind me why you're all in my studio?" Namjoon sighs, watching everyone camp out in his small space, both Jimin and Taehyung peeking out the door.

"They're here! There right there, they just brought them in-!" Jimin whispers sharply, and suddenly even Namjoon gets up to maybe catch a glance.

"She must be young." Taehyung mumbles, watching how an elderly woman in a 'Seoul Hybrid Care Project'-jacket holds your hand as you walk next to her. Your tail is a little curled and clearly one of a canine hybrid- your ears somewhat folded downwards.

"Maybe she's just short." Namjoon argues quietly, Jungkook pushing a bit to get a glimpse too. "I mean- if she was too young to attend late shows and schedule that would be pretty dumb wouldn't it?" He wonders, and the others hum in agreement, watching as your tail lowers, your mood visibly changing as soon as it's evident you'll be staying.

They all start to feel a little bad once they have to watch you cling to the caretaker- probably your only familiar person, who attempts to make you understand that you'll stay here now. It's the first taste of what you as a category five are like- there's no covering up your emotions whatsoever, you visibly and clearly make it known that you're not happy about this situation.

The only thing that soothes the pack a little it the sight of the staff gently wiping your tear stained cheeks before leading you into your new living space, door closing behind you. Though it's odd- because somehow, the entire pack feels closer than they've been in a few years by now, everyone equally both interested and mildly worried for you.

"Okay I can't be the only one who feels this though." Taehyung suddenly perks up, the ball of squeezed together wolf hybrids breaking up as they all get back into the studio, door closing. "Right?"

"She's a category five Taehyung!" Namjoon scolds.

At that, everyone falls silent for a moment.

Because while they can't deny what Taehyung mentioned was true-

Namjoon also had a point.

---

You are, in fact, not actually that young, merely months behind Jungkook.

And Seokjin's very sharp sense of observation tells him that you're not at all unaware of your surroundings whatsoever. It seems like you want to talk often but then remember something that makes you shut up before you can even open your mouth. You're however otherwise clearly aware of what's going on, interested and curious about things you don't know. It must be frustrating to not be able to voice out your thoughts, he thinks to himself, already wondering if there could be a different way of communicating with you.

Turns out you are indeed a domestic dog hybrid, chosen for your rather reserved but friendly nature. You've been born to a mother than wanted to stay anonymous, having given you up as a newborn pup at a shelter, presumably because you're the result of infidelity.

Taehyung is, to no one's surprise, the first one to try and interact with you in the practice room. You seem a bit hesitant at first but it's very clear that you're easily warming up to him, your tail wagging every time Jimin says something that makes Taehyung laugh. The two wolves are sitting close to you, and you seem alright with that, albeit a little shy.

Which is to be expected, considering its been barely a week since you moved into the company building, and you've also never really met them.

"What're you looking for, hm?" Taehyung wonders as he watches you search around for something. You look at him at that, unsure, like you're fighting internally with yourself.

"Maybe she's too shy to say it out loud?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down close to you as well now. "You wanna whisper it maybe?" He tries, leaning in and pointing to his hybrid ear-

And to everyone's surprise you do actually sit up on your knees, cupping your hands over his ears before you whisper something.

And of course, everyone is eager to know what it was, since it makes the youngest look so caught off guard, cheeks red as he gets up to fetch a bottle of water from a table nearby.

They distract themselves for the time being by starting to actually practice, occasionally watching your reaction to their choreography. Being watched by you is actually not that weird at all- if anything, it makes them all work a bit harder as if to impress you, underline their deaths as the perfect idols they are.

Though, at the end of the day, they're also just a pack of young wolves, and it's clear.

Jungkook let's himself fall onto his back close to you, huffing in exhaustion making everyone laugh. The air feels oddly light today, as if the stress isn't actually that bad this time around. And it's especially evident in the way everyone laughs when you reach out to pet Jungkooks head as if to tell him that he worked hard, making the idol shy again.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

---

It's your first public appearance.

Described to the public as a 'charity case', you've been somewhat officially shown in behind the scenes footage every now and then, many fans having already found some info on you from the internet. The reactions are mixed, but mostly positive- many claiming that the band and company are showing how kind the world can be by taking you in. It's probably because the company itself had made it clear that you do not actually live with the boys, but in a separate place with personal caretakers, eliminating the possibility of causing a dating rumor for now, though that might happen naturally at some point.

However, all is better than having to defend the guys fighting amongst each other like dogs over food.

The level of comfort around you varies amongst the members, which is to be expected- but it's already clear that you're very good at wrapping people around your little finger. Seokjin is holding your hand as they all walk through the airport together, and you never let go of it once, staying close to the oldest. He's become somewhat of a guardian figure for you- his calm and carefree attitude drawing you in.

He helps you buckle your seatbelt on the plane, and helps you out of your jacket like it's second nature, though he does roll his eyes at Hoseok commenting how he looks like a father. "Well at least I'm helping her, you all just ignore her or play around!" He scolds, tension rising when Taehyung starts to argue from the corner.

"Hey, no one asked you to play the part!" He barks. "We got staff for that.." he scoffs to himself, while Namjoon shakes his head.

"Guys please.." he begs quietly, though the barking doesn't die down.

"So we're just supposed to act like we care but toss her aside? How cruel is that?" Jin argues back, making Jungkook whine from close by.

"Hyung, don't shout like that-" He worries, and Seokjin is ready to really shout now, when Yoongi gets up and walks over to unbuckle your seatbelt. Only now does everyone take a moment to notice you quietly crying to yourself.

"Come on, I'll get you some tissues.." the wolf mumbles quietly to you, effectively removing you from the crossfire to have you sit next to himself instead.

It's quiet at that, except for the soft sound of you blowing your nose and whimpering a bit as Yoongi offers his silent support to you. Jin sighs as he sits back down, sound signaling the start of the flight.

It stays quiet like this until the seatbelts are allowed to be removed, an apologetic looking Jungkook walking up next to where Yoongi sits next to you. You're asleep already, having taken the rapper up on the silent offer to sleep on his lap, a pillow on his thighs offering comfort for your head. "M' sorry." The youngest mumbles quietly, running a hand over your head.

"We've got to stop, at least around her." Namjoon says, calmly. "Our pack issues are one thing, but unloading all that on her is just unfair."

"I didn't mean to shout like that.." seokjin sighs from his seat.

"And I didn't mean to get so angry either.." Taehyung apologizes.

"What's even wrong with us in the first place?" Hoseok asks, shaking his head to himself. "Its like we're just fighting these days, nothing else."

"Cause we do." Jungkook says, still petting your head. It's clear that the youngest is pretty attached to you already. "We're just complaining and arguing.." he mumbles softly, watching you sleep.

"Why.?" Jin asks himself mostly.

"Doesn't matter." Yoongi quietly offers. "But we gotta figure this shit out without getting her caught in the middle like that." He reminds everyone. "She can't talk and tell us to stop-"

"She can, though." Jungkook perks up, ears standing tall.

"What?" Namjoon is interested now. Category five hybrids typically don't talk.

"The water bottle on Tuesday. She told me what she wanted when I asked her to, you know, tell me quietly." Jungkook explains. "I think she's just- embarrassed, maybe?"

"Of what?" Hoseok wonders. "Talking in that category is impressive."

"Yeah but she- I guess she's got some trouble pronouncing words. She didn't say 'water' for example, but something like 'wadu'." He tells his packmates.

"Thats cute though." Taehyung laughs from his seat, the others chuckling as well. "Maybe at the center she got made fun of." He tries to justify.

"Could be." Namjoon nods. "But with some practice she could surely work on that issue. It would help tremendously if she at least communicates in single words." He says, and everyone agrees.

"You know.." yoongi smiles to himself, looking down on you still sleeping. "...I think she's doing something entirely different than just polishing our image already."

"Huh?" Hoseok asks.

"Dont you notice?" The rapper asks the pack. "Everytime it's about her, we agree. No fighting. We suddenly problem-solve and actually talk." He explains.

"...I-" Namjoon stares at you at that revelation, realizing it as well. "You're right."

Maybe you're not just a publicity stunt after all-

But an actual solution for the root of the problem.

[mrspanther]

Missed Birthday - Miguel O´Hara

When he finally came home, the whole house was dark except for the last candle which was ready to lose its light soon. He deeply sighed at the look of a fully prepared dinner table with food that you had been preparing probably the whole day. Miguel told you not to cook, and that he would take you somewhere for a nice dinner, but you probably knew that he would not be able to make his promise come true. He leaned down to blow the candle when he spotted his favorite dessert that you have made just for him, untouched. It was your birthday and you made HIS favorite meals? With a head full of disappointment himself, he went upstairs ready to apologize at least a thousand times.

Miguel was trying so hard to come back to you every day at a reasonable time. But today was different. Of course, the biggest emergency came not last month, not last week, or yesterday. It had to happen today. All he could think about the whole time was you, the reservation he had in your favorite restaurant, the flowers he was not able to pick up, and the small red box that was hidden in his pocket.

He could vividly imagine how you cooked dinner. Speakers playing your favorite music and having fun dancing in the kitchen. You were always so excited to see his face brighten every time he took a bite of your food. He praised you for taking such good care of him, he thanked you for loving him. Everyday. And he could not come home for your birthday at the promised time?

Miguel stopped in the middle of your shared bedroom to realize that the bed was empty. His heart started racing and his head was filled with the worst scenarios. What if you had enough and you left? He panicked. He ran downstairs to check if your handbag was still there. You would not leave without it. His heart filled with a small wave of relief when he spotted the bag at its usual place. He quickly grabbed it to check if your wallet was there. Frantically going through your belongings in your bag he accidentally spilled half of your stuff on the floor.

"Miguel?" An almost silent voice interrupted his search party.

"MY LOVE!" He jumped to the couch where you fell asleep while waiting for him for hours.

Miguel hugged you so tightly that he almost broke your ribs.

"Uh, that… hurts...." You tried to escape his embrace.

"I am so sorry. Really sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"That's ok. You are always a little rough if you don't control yourself." You smiled as you stood up wrapped in a blanket and slowly headed to your master bedroom.

"I meant to ruin your day. I will make it up for you."

You stopped. "I know. But I would prefer if there would be nothing to fix. I don't know if I like this."

His heart stopped. He just stood there in the middle of the living room watching you trying to leave the room in the dark.

"Ouch!" You moaned as you stumbled on the furniture in your way.

"Let me." Miguel picked you up into his arms ignoring your objections.

After carefully placing you on the bed he turned on a small lamp on the nightstand and his breath got stuck in his lungs.

Emerging from the dark, your eyes were staring at him with a glow that he had never seen before. Why are you so beautiful? Your messy hair, big sleepy eyes, and face that was made for caressing.

A sudden urge moved him closer to you as he leaned to taste your lips begging to be kissed.

But you turned your head away from him.

You could have stabbed him right into the heart and he would feel the same pain as he did at the sight of you pulling yourself away.

"Y/N?" His voice filled with longing for your closeness.

Without a word you stood up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. All he could hear was his aching heart beating in the tight chest and water filling the bathtub.

Miguel wanted to leave you space, not pushing on you, but he could not help himself. Your love and your relationship was built on the constant physical closeness. There was not a minute when he was not holding your hand, hugging you or at least caressing your face. Seeing you pulling away was something he never experienced and it was driving him crazy.

After not getting any answer he lightly knocked on the bathroom door, and Miguel went straight in.

"Can I take a bath in peace, please?" You said almost fully submerged in the warm water.

"Anything you want, my sun." Miguel smiled as he sat down by the bathtub. I just want to be close to you.

"That is a surprise." You murmured.

"It was not my fault." He sighed. "You know that…"

"I know what?" You looked him straight in the eyes. "That I will spend my whole life waiting for you, hoping that you will come back to me in one piece?"

"You know that you are my main priority!"

"The only thing I know is that I am tired of being scared to death when you do not come home at an acceptable time. I am not mad at you for being late. What is one day in comparison to the whole lifetime spent together? But I do not know if I can handle spending my nights shaking because of how anxious I am because of you." 

A single small and warm tear rolled down your face. Miguel tried to wipe it, but you pushed his hand away.

"I would much rather leave you while you are still alive, not knowing if something happened to you after."

"Do not say that." He frowned with eyes filled with pain.

"I think I should pack my stuff tomorrow morning…"

"DO NOT SAY THAT!" Miguel jumped up, staring at you from the height. "You do not mean that."

"I do mean that."

"You do not love me anymore?!"

"I do! And that is the problem! I am scared to death to see you forever gone!"

Before you can say anything else, he grabbed your underarms and pulled you from the bathtub just to painfully hug you. His clothes stuck to your bare skin, soaking wet. 

"I am not going anywhere." Miguel whispered into your hair while his hand was protectively holding your head. 

"I can not do this. I can´t."

"Do you love me?" He asked after he freed you from his embrace. "Tell me the truth."

"I have already said it." You mumbled trying to reach a towel behind him.

"So say it again." Miguel begged.

"I love you more than anything. There is nothing, no one that I could love more."

"Then let me show you how much I care for you, how much I love you. I would sacrifice the whole world just to keep you safe."

"I am not the one that needs to be kept safe." You said straight into his face as you tried to leave the bathroom. 

But he stood there, in front of the door staring at the floor.

"Can you please let me go? You are scaring me." You begged.

"I would never…" He mumbled as he let you go. "Y/N! I would never hurt you. You know that."

"I know, but I think that things are getting out of hand…"

You sat down on the bed, wrapped in the towel that you took as he was staring at you while still standing at the door.

"…I can spend the night at my sister's place and we can talk in the morning." You said while trying to remember if your sister was home from the trip she left for a week ago.

"I-I do not know what to say." Miguel almost whispered with shoulders trembling under the weight of the situation. 

He was never scared to fight. Anyone or anything. He never cared, because he knew he would be the winning one. But with you, he was vulnerable. Nothing could hurt him more than life without you and your love. 

"You have opened the gates of heaven to me and now you want to lock me out." He said as he sat down to your legs, placing his head into your lap, hugging your hips. "I know that you did not sign up for this, but you know that there will not be a day when I would not fight for my life just to come back to you. No matter what it takes, I swear to protect you… And myself, so we can keep building the life that you deserve. A life that you will hopefully want to spend with me. And one day with our children too." He mumbled into your belly after he placed a kiss on it.

"I'm just scared. I do not want to see you to…"

"I know, I know!"

Miguel took your face into his hands and kissed you deeply while caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, slowly pushing you to the top of the bed so you could rest your head on the pillow. 

"I am here. I am with you. I am home." He whispered after he kissed every single inch of your body on the way to your lips. "Let me love you. Let me be with you. Be with me." He kept going, interrupted only by kissing you everywhere he reached.

When you finally responded to his affection, he took a deep breath like when you touched him for the first time. He always loved your touch, but tonight, he felt like a dry earth finally getting long-awaited rain.

"Miguel?" You mumbled, lost under him.

"Yes, my sun?" He looked into your eyes, lost in the need of you and your love.

"I need you to hold me in your arms. The whole night. Promise?" You begged.

"I promise I will hold you, love you, and protect you as long my heart is beating." Miguel said as he kissed your chest on the place where your heart was hiding. 

Drunk from his scent on your skin and his lips on yours, you completely forgot about your plans. But he did not forget about his. About the little red box prepared for the right moment.

[fushiguwu]

it’s fxcking over. getou suguru

CHAPTER 4 from the Summer Fever's serie!

ft. dilf!getou and collegestudent!reader

warnings: arguing, truth discovering, kind of cheating? if you squint and think like gojo, gojo being mom, crying, relationship discussion, reader being disappointed, start of enemies to lovers.

words: 2.7k

a/n: hiii sorry for the late hope u enjoy this development chapter

(chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, more to come)

And you did keep your promise. 

After Suguru left, you stayed there for a few more minutes, feeling that something wasn’t right about all of this. You knew he was hiding things from you; even though you didn’t actually know each other, he seemed to be having a great time with you, as you were with him, so why did he hide so much? He didn’t even give you his phone number — nor did he ask for yours. And why would a man his age be at this party? What did he mean when he said he wasn’t supposed to be there, that you shouldn’t be together there? 

So many unsolved questions for a man you barely knew; your mind gave you no rest as a taxi drove you home that night silently. The smell of alcohol and smoke impregnated the car, your makeup probably looked a mess, your hair was dirty and you started feeling really disgusting as sobered up. Everything you had lived with Suguru came up like flashes: even far from all those memories, you felt like you could close your eyes and touch him again by a raise of an arm. And you do close your eyes, but for the headache the drunkenness gave you. 

Not much time passed until you got home. Gojo and your mom were sleeping, the whole house dark, you took your shoes off, staggering over the furniture till the closest bathroom; all you wanted to do was take a shower and sleep for the next ten hours. Your mind needed a break on thinking. You throw yourself on your bed as soon as the bath is over and nothing has ever felt as comfortable as the smell of your cleaning sheets after a long, long night. You don’t want to think about Suguru ever again — for the next few hours.

You woke up the next day feeling like a truck ran over you while sleeping, or maybe you were just hungover. ‘Never gonna drink again’, you think — And you know it’s not true. It was your last couple weeks before heading back to your cruel reality as a college student, the time passes the fastest when you spend it wondering about someone else. Even with all the alcohol running through your blood until now, you remember everything that happened last night; and you don’t know if you’re supposed to feel good or bad about it. The man you’re obsessed with just keeps getting out of your hands and you feel like there’s nothing you can do about it. Maybe you should let the idea of him go for once; you could feel, deep inside, that you’ll get hurt if keep on running after Suguru and his secrets. 

The depressive thoughts of your love life fades away once you head to the kitchen. Satoru’s there making God-knows-what when he sees you and screams your name out. Ouch, bye, poor ears. “Good morning, Satoru.”

“Good morning? It’s 2pm! I’m making lunch already!” He’s wiping his hands on the apron, “I thought you were dead!” 

“Unfortunately, I am not.” You sit on the dinner table with a coffee mug resting your aching head on your free hand. Your eyes were barely open yet.  “Where’s my mom?”

“Buying stuff for lunch tomorrow.” ‘What about today’s lunch at these bratty hands?’ you think. He looks back at you for a few seconds. "It seems someone enjoyed the party last night, huh?” Gojo says as scapes your sight gradually. He seems to have gotten over not being invited. 

“Yeah, you could say that…”  your voice so weak as you closed your eyes completely. When you open it again, Gojo’s holding a medicine — that you supposed was for your headache, and a glass of water at the height of your face. You smile lowly to him and take it. “Thanks, Gojo. I needed it” you say, truly. He smiled back at you and headed back to the stove. 

“I’ve been your age once, kid. Know how it is” He turns off the heat. “Yeah, of course, our mister party rocker”, you said to him almost like a whisper. He gives you a small laugh. “Lunch’s ready, let’s eat.” the white haired man looks satisfied with his hard work. He takes his apron off and washes his hands. Only thinking about food makes you sick. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“And I am not asking you. You’re not getting out of this kitchen without eating something.” you groan loud enough for him to hear and lay your head on the table, what audacity! It does not bother Satoru, though, as he puts a dish full of his freshly made food in front of you. It actually looked pretty tasty if you only weren't dying slowly out of intoxication. Gojo squints. “Now who’s the brat one?”

You felt sick after eating Satoru’s meal, you tried to tell him that, but he ignored your prayers —not because it tasted bad, you were just nauseous from the alcohol; so you spent the rest of that day in bed regretting your actions. All of them. 

Sunday morning woke you up with loud noises coming from downstairs. Muffled sounds of dishes, laughter, talking. It takes a while for you to understand that a whole day has passed and you actually slept for this long, wiping the drool out of your cheeks. Your brain still engaging the clutches to work again, the sun invading your room through the thin white curtains making you squeeze your retinas. The noise decreases. There’s definitely other people in here, and neither your mom nor Gojo told you about guests coming — maybe because you were asleep for the last 13 hours, but that’s not the point. 

You dressed properly, washed your face and brushed your teeth before heading downstairs. You tried to fix your hair with your hands on the way, too. The sound of laughter rising through the walls as you came closer and closer to the kitchen. Exposing only your head, you check the room. Empty, so you enter. The voices coming from outside, you can hear your mom talking near the pool. That’s when Gojo opens the backyard door to probably get some beer and you hide back, unsuccessfully trying to avoid him. He calls your name, happy. “Look who woke up! Feeling better from the hangover?” Oh, yeah, you almost forgot you were feeling sick yesterday — thank god. So you say a ‘yes, thank you’ to him, polite but still very much suspicious, while he heads to the freezer, not a bit bothered. Suddenly something clicks on his head. Gojo says your name before ‘come here’, heading to the backyard. You don’t feel like following him, but he insists with a so excited “Come on!“ that you do. 

There was your mom, sitting by a lounge chair, laughing, and there were other two people facing her, sitting too, with their back to you. You could only see the back of the chair and the top of their heads. You shiver and stay still at the sight of long black hair. Satoru saw you stopping for a second and took your arm gently to bring you closer. You were now facing the guests, but looked away. Gojo walks away from you.

“Getou, I told you about my stepdaughter, remember?” the white haired man slaps his friend’s shoulder, who is sitting. You’re scared to look fully at what is staring at you in your panoramic view, but Gojo calls your attention. Your heart jumping out. You knew it was him. You knew since you saw his silky hair from behind, since you heard him laughing. But nothing prepared you to look him in the eyes. And the gaze he gave you, the mask falling off him as your chest into the ground. “This is my best friend, Suguru, and this is his wife.” he points to the pretty lady beside Suguru, her black hair long like his. Your stomach started churning again like someone just gave you several punches. 

A dead silence within. 

“…ex wife, Satoru.” the raven haired man emphasized after clearing his throat, uncertain to look into your eyes again — and you’re grateful for it, as you felt  your own starting to blur in tears. You looked away too, so no one would notice. 

Gojo rolls his eyes “whatever. You two are here together now, aren’t you?” Getou tried to add that they were there as friends, but the white haired one interrupted his chatting. “Anyways, I just wanted  you to know your new friend’s dad.” 

“Mimiko and Nanako?” you ask, staring at Suguru. He kept looking down. ‘Wasn’t that obvious enough, how could I not notice?’, you thought. “Correct! Isn’t it awesome that we’re all connected now?”, says Gojo, sitting on his chair beside your mom. You take a few steps back.

“…Yeah, I guess it is”, and start to walk inside again, not once looking behind you. Your mind was clouded by so many things, all your questions being answered in the worst possible way now. All the pieces of that puzzle connect, and you are the foolish one. 

“What’s wrong?” you hear your mom saying from afar; you don’t answer. everything else seems to be far from you, even yourself. What a reality shock. Of course he kept things from you, of course he was fucking lying and omitting about his life. What a pathetic girl you are to think a man twice your age would be single and father of no kids, right? It was indeed too good to be true. 

You heard your name on your way upstairs, wiping the tears from your poor cheeks. You already knew who it was without looking back, so you kept your way. He, then, runs to grab your hand and stop you: it does work, but you can’t hide the tears from your eyes, surrendering to Suguru and looking him in the eye from one step up. Your gaze externalizes anger, sadness, betrayal. He feels his heart breaking in a hundred pieces. 

“I can explain this” The classic. What more could you expect? You laugh at him. “Please, listen to me” Suguru says your name in such a tiny voice you hesitate for a second, but then swallow dry your feelings. 

“Don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Or should I be more polite and call you Getou? Since we do not know each other” you pull your hand from his grip abruptly, looking deep into his eyes, seeking for any trace of truth. You stay silent for a moment, not knowing if wanted to have the answer for what you were about to ask. 

“How long do you know?” He seemed confused, frowning at you. It makes you angrier. “Know what?” so he asks back. You could feel your eyes burning in tears again. You wanted to scream at him, scream so everyone could hear what a bastard he is.

“How long do you know who I am? That I’m your fucking best friend’s stepdaughter! That…” you hesitate, “…That I am friend with your fucking children”. You point at his chest, disgusted, crying. Suguru looks away from you for the first time in your discussion. You step away from him, shaking your head, not wanting to hear it. His insecurity was an answer enough. 

“You already knew that, didn't you? You fucking knew it from the beginning” you laugh in disbelief and wipes your face with your hands. “I was just being fucking used” you whisper more to yourself than for him. The raven haired man stands before you silently, holding on the handrail, still not gazing your way. “What kind of kink is that, huh? Does fucking your friend’s daughter turns you on? Do you do that to all of them? If so, I should go out and warn the other Satoru’s friends. That are, oh my,” you pause sarcastically, “your friends too!” Suguru seems to have got some nerve as he finally looks back at you. 

“You know it’s not that” his voice is very low and bothered. You laugh: he is upset. What right does he have to be upset? 

“No, I don’t know about anything.” You think for a second, “Actually, I do know one thing: that I don’t want to know about you anymore. Nor your weird kinks, nor your secrets. Nothing. This— thing, we had, it’s over. It’s fucking over. You fucking used me, Suguru. I really liked you, u know? I thought that maybe you were different, but how naive I am to think a man would be different.” your eyes were starting to get puffy, but you really wanted to spill everything you had left. 

“I passed the last weeks just thinking of you, the whole fucking time. And yesterday was so incredible, we had such a good time. I’m not talking about the making out, but the parts where we were laughing together. But nothing was real, now was it?” 

“It was, for me. You don’t know how much I enjoyed spending my time with you, just let me explain” Suguru tries to get closer to you, touching his fingertips on yours, but before he could keep on talking, a female voice called his name from outside.

“I’m afraid your wife is calling you, Getou.” you step back, keeping a distance from him again. This time, you did not intend to get anymore closer. He was confused between explaining himself to you and answer the calling, so you take the opportunity when he looks back downstairs to seek for the voice, to head to your room without any further obstacles.

When Getou looks at you, you’re already gone, and his wife is at the stair base talking about something he did not listen to. 

You close your room’s door behind you, sitting on the cold floor, processing everything that just happened. You felt used, dumb, stupid, naive. Every bad thing. You didn’t mean to put expectations on Suguru, as you’ve been together only twice, but you didn’t expect him to lie to you so deeply. You two didn’t have much time to talk, too, but he could’ve said something before. He knew you were his best friend’s stepdaughter and kept on, hiding this from you. Hiding that he had a wife and kids. Lucky you, it just lasted for two nights. What could happen if you took more time to find out the truth? 

But you still felt attracted to him, though. You were together two days ago, after all; he grabbed you so tight, his voice so sweet and his grip so strong. He was still so handsome, so gorgeous. Maybe the most beautiful man you’ve ever been with. And yet so negligent. You can’t afford the luxury of keeping this relationship, after all he has hidden from you, after you find out how close he is to your family, and you’ve become to his too. That’s the right choice: to forget what you two had. He had the age to be your father, and worse, you were the age of his daughters. It was a summer fever, that’s all, and shall pass. 

That’s what you were trying to convince yourself as took the flight back to your university, a week later. Suguru tried to make contact with you again through the days, going to your house on the subject of watching sports with Gojo, but he kept looking upstairs from the living room, waiting for you to come down at any time. And when you did, he gave Satoru some excuse to follow you kitchen inside and try to talk. He had such a puppy face you could only see panoramically, as ignored him almost completely every damn time. Sometimes he got upstairs and knocked on your room’s door — which you don’t know how he knew it was your room, and said things like “i’m sorry; let’s talk; let me explain”, as if you’d kicked his ass after a ten year relationship? You were actually pretty fucking tired of his attitude, and it kinda hurted you too, as a man so handsome is begging forgiveness on your knees and you are rejecting him; unfortunately, your mind spoke louder than your heart. And as the time went by, your sadness turned into anger, that made you little to zero patience with the whole situation. You had so much stuff to worry about already, a drama with a man twice your age couldn’t and wouldn’t bother you from now on. 

That is, until your next college break. 

[fancyfeathers]

When Rain Washes Blood

(Yandere Ghost OC)

(A/N- This was my first short story I have ever written, and another version of it, the first version, was actually for a college class I took)

The rain hit the window with hard thuds as it poured down and slammed down the glass. The room was completely dark with the moon covered with the dark clouds. There was a young woman laid in the bed, wide awake, eyes fixed on the glass of the window where it felt like it may shatter the glass. The seemingly ancient house gave her chills, the feeling of eyes watching her kept her from sleeping. Her lack of sleep made it feel as if she was seeing things, a dark figure walking down the hall but would disappear when she got close, dinner utensils moving on their own, books falling off their shelves, and so on. 

She only had to stay here for a few days longer and then the next renters would move in and these strange mishaps would be their problem. That was a selfish thought, letting other people move in here without knowing a thing about the uniqueness, for lack of a better word, of the house, but honestly if she stayed here any longer she felt like she may lose her mind. So the moment she heard about people moving in soon, she immediately began packing her things, which was not much since the house came with much of the older furniture, apparently from the first owner who had died a very long time ago. When she asked the current owner on how he had died the answer startled her.

“Murder from what I’m told. Murdered by his own wife.”

Now that fact does not surprise her, if anything now it made sense with all the strange happenings in the house. Living with a ghost, that was the conclusion she came to, a haunted house. She was not a superstitious person but with all the evidence laid in front of her she could ignore it no longer. 

The sound of footsteps snapped the young lady out of her thoughts as she layed in bed. She couldn’t sleep so she slipped out of bed and went to switch on the lights… huh that was strange, it wasn’t working, a power outage perhaps? She reached for her phone to use the flashlight from that but that was not working either, her phone was dead it seemed. She huffed and went into the dark hallway alone, the only guide for her steps being the hand she kept on the wall and the footsteps she tried to follow. 

She noticed a faint glow from under one of the doors, a room she has never been in, the study of the first owner, completely untouched and locked from what she remembers. She reached for the nob, going to test it but she only found that the door opened and not locked like she remembered. She pushed open the door and the dust hit her nose immediately, the entire study was covered in it. The study was lit by a candle that rested on the side table by one of the couches, that she didn’t dare sit on for how only and unkempt they looked. She stepped in and closed the door behind her before exploring the old room. 

She could still hear the heavy slams of the rain and harsh wind that hit the house from within the study that she explored. The walls were lined with books that were older than anything she had ever seen, she didn’t even know if she could open it before the paper got destroyed if it wasn’t already. There were also many old photos and portraits of a young man and a young lady, who must have been the first owners of the house, the victim and murderer. She stared at them for a long time but she couldn’t get the itch that she had seen that woman somewhere before, she just couldn’t place where. With a heavy sigh she decided to call it a night and she picked up the candle that was on the table when she came in and went to the door to open it, but it wouldn’t open, it was locked. 

The room itself felt like it had dropped ten degrees as she found that she couldn’t move her limbs on her own. They felt like they were made of lead but they moved as if someone was puppeteering her like a marionette. She found herself walking to the desk and picking up a framed photo on the desk, it was of the first owner and his wife. As if someone else was behind her she could feel someone wrap their arms around her waist, but they were cold, a grip like death. A voice like velvet spoke from behind her, sweet and smooth and called her... “Oh my love.”

Her eyes widened in horror as she found her free hand reaching out to grab the old, rusted letter opener that rested on the desk. She watched as one of the ghostly hands reached up to hers holding the sharp object, holding it along with hers. “Till death do us part.”

As she laid on the floor, blood pooling out beneath her she looked at the photo that she held that fell on the floor with her. She finally recognized who the wife, the murderer, looked like, it looked like her.

[hornyhornyhimbos]

to the person who anonymously asked about cowboy!steve and reader's future, this fic is not that. the fic you asked for will be coming very soon 🫶🏻

"Honky-Tonk Badonkadonk" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: A certain cowboy and his girl start reminiscing, what with all the things they have planned for their new bar. But maybe, just maybe, they get a tiny bit sidetracked along the way.

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,674

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) 69-ing and wall sex, semi-protected piv sex (reader has an IUD but they don't use condoms), oral both!receiving, fingering f!receiving, cum swallowing, creampie, slightly public sex but not really, nicknames (princess, sweetheart, cowgirl; cowboy, daddy one time), multiple orgasms for both steve ans reader, mentions of squirting but it doesn't actually happen, explicit language, takes place in a bar, probably more because this is filthy as hell

Extra Notes: this took me so long for no good reason, i am so sorry y'all

Originally Written: 04/25/2023 - 05/12/2023; re-written 06/12/2023 - 06/13/2023

Beta Read By: @writer-in-theory (ilysm!!)

filthy fridays can be found here!

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

You took one last look around what was once known as The Lucky Shot, nostalgia flowing through your veins.

The bar was finally starting to look like yours and Steve's, though you nearly shed a tear when he began to paint over the four-leaf clover mural you'd come to love. You were quite sad to see the old place go, but your heart warmed as you thought through all the new possibilities.

Only one piece remained from the old furniture, the little white sofa along the far wall, right next to where the dartboard previously hung. Steve had insisted on leaving it there for when the two of you needed breaks during your renovations, but thus far it had been abandoned.

As if on cue, Steve’s lips met your bare shoulder, placing a delicate peck beside the strap of your tank top. His hands settled on your hips, his voice exhausted and thick as he said, "Come on. Let's take a break."

You were inclined to argue with him. After all, the more work you did, the closer this bar was to being finished. Steve's fan base had been excited for an opening date ever since he'd announced the making of Harrington Brewing Co. Or whatever the two of you decided to name it.

You'd both gone back and forth on what to name the place ever since you'd signed the papers, but nothing had stuck yet. So, until then, you'd settled on Harrington Brewing Co.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, Steve guided you over to the couch, trailing kisses along any bare skin he could find. Sure, your fiancé always craved physical touch, but something about his gestures made you skeptical, wondering if he wanted those kisses to lead to more.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down onto the leather sofa. He let out a content sigh as he kissed your hair, holding you as close as humanly possible. "Can't believe we have a place that's officially ours."

You let out a sigh of your own, a wide smile taking over your face. "I know," you replied, craning your head to face him. "And just think, in a couple months, we'll be signing the papers on our first house together."

Steve's thumb drew small figure eights across your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. "I can't believe you actually want to live with me until the day I die."

"Of course I do," you told him, planting your lips on his for a long overdue kiss. "It's not every day the world's sexiest cowboy asks you to marry him."

As silly as it sounded, it really was true. A national magazine had named Steve 'sexiest cowboy of the year' and you had yet to let him live it down. Any chance you got to mention it, you'd bring it up immediately. Once, when his best friend Dustin had called, you'd even answered the phone with, "You've reached the Harrington residence: home of the sexiest cowboy alive!"

He pulled you back in for another kiss, his hands planted firmly on your hips as he rolled you over. You knew this was the moment those little gestures had been leading up to, but for some reason, you couldn't force yourself to care. You just kept on kissing him.

You could feel his hard-on bump your thigh when his hips rutted, his hands moving to your ass as he rutted them a second time. You moaned as your own hips shifted, his length pressing against the front of your shorts.

"Baby," you said against his lips, "are you ready to call it a day? Head home?"

Steve's lips chased after yours, working your bottom lip between his teeth. He managed to shake his head as he pulled away. "No. I want to take you right here on this couch."

Your heart thumped so loud it made your ears ring. On the one hand, you'd always been kind of curious about public sex. On the other hand, you really couldn't tell if Steve was being serious. "Steve, anybody could-"

"Babe, it's not like anyone's gonna come in here. The place doesn't even have an 'Open For Business' sign. Besides, Harrington's Honky-Tonk isn't exactly in the town square."

You knew by the sharpness of his words that he was joking when he'd called the place by that name, but something about it felt exactly right. "That's it! That's what we'll name it. Harrington's Honky-Tonk."

"We are most definitely not naming it that, but if agreeing gets me one step closer to having my dick shoved inside you, I will gladly agree."

You rolled your eyes, your lips landing on his for a triumphant peck. "Thank you. Now, do that thing you were doing a minute ago."

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"Dirty talking and making me feel like the luckiest girl alive."

His hands gripped your waist, pushing you down against his hard-on. You gasped as he brushed against you, the friction of his jeans absolutely painful through the sheer material of your shorts. "You are the only one who has ever gotten me this hard, you know that?"

Of course you did, he reminded you every time you found yourself in a position like this. "Uh-huh," you managed, your breath caught in your throat.

"I think you should be the one to do something about it, yeah?"

You nodded, slowly moving your hand to the fastening of his jeans. His hand gripped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. "No, no, not yet. I want you to cum first. Sit on my face, princess."

You cocked an eyebrow, your hands moving back to the button of his pants. "Who said we can't do both at the same time?"

"Shit," he chuckled, lifting his hips to help you pull his boxers and pants down. You didn't think Steve's cock could get any prettier, but something about the way the natural sunlight was shining around him on that couch… it had your mouth watering. "Have I ever told you I love you?"

You maneuvered yourself higher so you could remove your own bottoms. "A couple times," you smirked, moving to hover above him.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his mouth, his tongue immediately going to work. His hands met your hips, helping you find a steady rhythm against his mouth.

His tongue lapped at your hole, and you were already feeling weak. A sigh left your parted lips as you lowered your mouth onto his cock, your lips fitting around the head like the perfect puzzle piece.

He moaned against your clit, the vibration only pushing you further toward the edge. He left kitten licks in all the places you needed them, eliciting a whine from your lips that was silenced by his cock.

Steve lifted your hips, his mouth parting from your cunt. Your body ached with need, and you nearly pouted around his cock when he removed his mouth. "I meant what I said." He paused in between sentences to kiss your core. "I want you to cum first."

"Well, cowboy," you said, traveling one of your hands down to his balls, squeezing them in the way you knew he loved. "We'll just have to see about that."

The further into your relationship you got, the more of a competition it was to make each other cum. Whether that be you making Steve cum the hardest or him making you cum more than him, the two of you seemed to have a little competition going. Not that you were complaining. He'd made you squirt three times in one night just last week. Who were you to say anything?

His tongue plunged in and out of your hole, creating the perfect pace. You moaned pornographically around his length, your hand squeezing at his heavy balls. Your hips rolled against his face, no doubt soaking the mustache he'd been growing out. This was by no means the first time he'd eaten you out with a mustache, yet somehow, the sensation got even better every time it happened.

Your hips rutted time and time again, chasing down your high. He worked his tongue in heavenly figure eights, drinking up every drop your body had to offer him. Want filled your entire body, burning in your fingertips and curling your toes. You forced the rest of his length into your mouth, coming apart as you whimpered around it. Your cunt fluttered on his tongue, Steve's hips canting in response. Nothing got Steve off quicker than you cumming on his tongue. You knew his release was right behind yours.

He worked you through your orgasm, suckling softly on your clit and holding tight to your love handles. A muffled string of moans tumbled from your lips as you fucked your mouth with his cock, your hand fondling his tight balls. With one last thrust of your mouth, he came undone, his load shooting down your throat in warm spurts. You milked his cock, swallowing down everything his body would give you.

Your spent body fell flush on top of Steve, his dick still halfway hard as you held him in your hand. His chest rose and fell underneath you as he attempted to catch his breath. "Cowgirl, you find new ways to amaze me every day."

"You're not so bad yourself, Stevie." His cock twitched at the nickname. Your fingers traced circles around his thigh, a content sigh escaping your lips. "You ready to call it a day yet, cowboy?"

"Not yet," he answered. "There's one last thing we need to do before we leave. Up."

At his instruction, you pushed yourself off the couch, tugging your shorts back up. Steve wrapped his hand around yours, stopping your motions. "Who said it had anything to do with your clothes being on?"

Heat rushed through your cheeks as he stood and, in one swift motion, had your legs wrapped around his waist. He backed you up against the wall, the bricks digging into your skin but somehow managing to only aid your senses. His lips met your neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse point. One of his arms managed to hold your body up while the other moved in between your bodies, his thumb catching your clit in a round of intoxicating circles. Your lips fell into an open 'O' as noiseless gasps and moans fell out.

"God, you're so pretty," he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Can't believe I haven't done this yet."

Your brows pinched together in both confusion and pleasure. "D-Done what?" you managed to ask, words seeming utterly impossible as he worked at your core.

"Christened this bar with you," he answered. His lips all but attacked your neck again, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. One of his digits teased your entrance, and your hips canted against it.

You let out a moan, though confusion had fully taken over your face by this point. "Christened the bar?"

He nodded, licking over a newly purple spot on your neck. "We've owned this bar for a whole two weeks and we haven't fucked in here yet."

"Is that what you call this, Harrington?" you attempted to tease, but even you knew it was a pathetic attempt. Your voice bordered on strangled as you said, "Pretty sure fucking involves having something inside me."

His finger finally made its way inside your aching hole, the breath nearly being knocked out of your lungs. "Yeah? How's that, sweetheart?"

A string of moans tumbled off your tongue, your back arching against the bricks. "Oh, Steve," you sighed, your eyes screwing shut at the pleasure.

"Hey, baby, you think you can keep those pretty eyes open for me?" he asked, his tone sweet like he wasn't actively shoving a second finger inside you as he spoke. "Need you to see the only man who can make you feel this good."

You all but pried your eyes open, meeting his lust-filled irises. His fingers pumped in and out of you at the perfect pace, and soon, you were on the edge of cumming a second time.

He flexed the digits inside you, brushing your G-spot every time they moved. You moaned his name like a record stuck on a loop, your eyes watering as your second orgasm approached. His mouth melded to yours, catching you in a sloppy make-out session as he drove his fingers even further inside you. You'd died and gone to heaven, that was the only real explanation as to how this man could make you feel so damn good.

Euphoria took over your body, his fingers working your spent hole as you tried poorly to catch your breath. A string of profanities and whimpers fell from your tongue as he removed the digits, holding them to your mouth. You licked and sucked on his fingers, hypnotized by your taste.

He met your lips with a juxtaposing soft kiss, his hands moving to hold both sides of your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Did so good, baby."

"Steve," you teased breathlessly, though it sounded more like a moan. "You still haven't properly fucked me yet."

"So greedy, princess," he teased back, lining himself up with your entrance. "Just can't get enough of me, can you?" He slowly pushed inside, and you fell limp against his chest. "You alright?" he asked, half serious and half playfully.

You managed to nod, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling from your parted lips. "Need you to help me out here, please," you all but begged.

He chuckled, meeting your forehead with a soft kiss and slowly pulling out of you. "Good girl," he cooed, gradually sliding his cock back into you. "Telling daddy what you want, yeah?"

It wasn't often that the two of you indulged in your daddy kink, but when you did, it never ceased to make you feel like the most special girl in the world. Your hips somehow found a way to pick up their pace again, rocking against Steve's at a delicious pace.

His hands helped guide you, your bodies practically fusing together as you met each other in the perfect rhythm. He twitched inside you as you pulsed around him, his lips trailing kisses along the skin that your tank top didn't cover. Your hands held tight to the hair on the nape of his neck, moans vibrating along your breasts.

His orgasm came first, his thick seed shooting inside you as he continued working you on his length. "Fuck's" and "Shit's" tumbled from his lips and his hips canted, his thumb moving to rub frenzied circles on your clit. Your climax burned through your body, eyes crossing as he abused your hole. You chanted his name like a mantra, like it was your lifeline.

Steve held you close as he lowered you down the wall, his lips meeting your forehead with a juxtaposing softness. He chuckled against the crease between your brow, "Thank god for IUDs, right?"

You let out a soft, shaky giggle as you reached for your panties. Your hands trembled, failing to get a good enough grip to pull them up.

Steve caught your struggle, giving you a playful smile and pulling your underwear and shorts back on for you. He zipped up his jeans with quickness, then held your hand and led you toward the door. His lips connected to your bare shoulder, the softness grounding you for a moment. "Let's go home, yeah?"

You wobbled back to his truck, your chest still heaving as you processed all that had just happened, his cum still deep inside you. He pulled the door open for you, a smirk settling on your lips as you eyed his ass. "You wanna know something, cowboy?"

He chuckled at your expression, knowing that tone all too well. "Yeah?"

Your hand met his ass, grabbing the curve of his jeans. "I think that is why they call it a honky-tonk badonkadonk."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

[cheerscoops]

Coffee Cups and Unconditional Love

Summary: Wayne Munson has been there for his nephew since before he was born, and he'll be there for him for the rest of his life - a.k.a. an explanation of why Wayne Munson owns so many coffee mugs as told through his relationship with his nephew

CW/TW: alcoholism, mentions of child neglect, death, illegal activities, dismissal of mental health issues because it's the 70s/80s, season 4 spoilers if you haven't finished yet

Word Count: 17.6k

A/N: I'm just gonna apologize in advance for this one. It was a labor of love, and I hurt my own feelings writing it.

April 1965

Wayne Munson was a simple man with simple tastes. It didn't take much to make him happy. A couple cigarettes from his pack of smokes, a cold beer, and a working radio were the only things he needed to unwind after a long shift at the plant. He mostly lived off of TV dinners, cold sandwiches, and cereal, and that was fine with him. He had never been the greatest cook, and not wasting his time in the kitchen gave him more energy for work anyway.

At the age of twenty-three, he only had a few more payments left to make on his trailer before he owned it outright, and he had a foldout bed for his younger brother Richard to use when things weren't going so great with their parents. He'd made it clear that his home was always open to him, no questions asked.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't surprised to find his brother and a crying girl sitting on his front step when he got back from the grocery store.

Wayne was a man of few words, and the few he did have did not equip him with the skills to handle a clearly distraught, sixteen year old girl. He and his brother exchanged a look before he wordlessly ushered the two inside.

He put on a fresh pot of coffee before busying himself with putting away his groceries, occasionally glancing over to where his brother was attempting to calm down the crying girl on his sofa.

"Everything is gonna be okay, Linda," he heard his brother say. "Wayne'll know what to do."

Once his groceries were put away and the coffee was finished brewing, he realized that he only had the one coffee mug. He found a couple of plastic juice cups in the back of one of his cabinets and poured the coffee into those and the lone mug. He set the mug in front of the girl and then handed one of the cups to his brother. He held his own cup as he sat down in the chair across from the couch.

Before he could ask what in the world was going on, the girl gave him a funny look.

“Where are your other mugs?” she asked as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I’ve only got the one,” he replied.

“Who only owns one coffee mug?”

Wayne shrugged.

“My mother owns three entertaining sets in different patterns with eight mugs a piece. I can’t imagine someone only having one mug.”

She sniffled a bit, but it seemed as though she’d stopped crying for now.

“Don’t really need more than one when you live alone,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, does someone wanna tell me why you were crying on my porch?”

Wayne looked back and forth between the two as they shared a look, both hesitant to come right out and say it.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Richie.”

“Linda’s pregnant,” Richie blurted out as he started talking a mile a minute. “We didn’t plan for it to happen or anything, but it did. And then her parents found out, and all hell broke loose. You shoulda heard what they said about me, Wayne. About us. About our family.”

Even without being there, Wayne could imagine it pretty perfectly. Their parents weren’t exactly the greatest people, and there was a reason he’d left home as soon as he could, a reason why he had a spare bed specifically for his brother. Their dad was a mean drunk and took it out on everyone around him. The neighbors would hear him yelling, and the next morning, broken furniture would be sitting on the curb waiting for the next garbage pickup. Their mom just made excuses for him and watched as it happened. A bystander in her own life sweeping up broken glass and scrubbing beer stains out of the carpet. They weren’t exactly the kind of family that you’d want your daughter to involve herself with. Wayne had some firsthand experience with that fact.

“It was just awful,” Linda said as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They told me I could either stay with my cousins in Kentucky until I had the baby and gave it up, or I could get out of their house. So, I got up, and I marched out with Richie.”

“I didn’t know where else to take her,” Richie continued. “There’s no way I’d leave her at mom and dad’s, and I just panicked and brought her here. We could help pay your bills or buy groceries or anything else you need. I got that job that I was telling you about - the one as a bag boy down at the grocery store.”

“And I’m going to pick up as many extra shifts at the diner as I can until I’m too pregnant to work,” Linda added, talking over Richie. “And we’ll help out around here with anything you need. You’ll barely even know we’re here.”

Wayne ran a hand over the back of his neck and abandoned his coffee on the table.

“Where’s all your stuff?” he asked. “You’re gonna need stuff if you’re moving in.”

“They didn’t give me time to pack when they threw me out,” she replied. “But I still have my house key, so Richie was going to take me back over there to get my things tomorrow when I know they’re both out of the house.”

“And I was gonna head over and grab my own stuff after we talked to you,” Richie continued. “Didn’t want to show up here with a bunch of stuff if we were gonna have to go somewhere else. I figured she could use the fold out I usually sleep on, and I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, you’ll take my room,” Wayne said as he moved to get up from his seat. “I’ll be fine out here. Just gotta straighten it up a little bit for you.”

Before he could leave the room, Wayne was practically knocked over by the force of Linda leaping up to wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said.

He awkwardly patted her on the back.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “I’d do anything for my brother.”

The next day, Wayne busied himself with getting his room ready for Linda and Richie to move into while they were out collecting Linda’s things. When the couple returned, Linda handed a brown paper bag to Wayne.

“These are for you,” she said with a smile. “A little thank you for all that you’re doing for us.”

Wayne opened the bag, and inside, he found three different coffee mugs - one dark green, one light blue with pink rosettes, and one yellow and white striped.

“I snagged a mug from each of my mother’s entertaining sets. It’ll drive her nuts, and now you have enough mugs for us all to have a cup of coffee. Everybody wins.”

The gift of coffee mugs wasn’t the only way Linda started to improve his life. She actively scolded him about the way he’d been eating and told him that she was going to fix his diet even if it killed her in the process. And so his TV dinners were reserved for the nights when Linda was working the dinner shift at the diner and hadn’t planned for leftovers that Wayne and Richie could easily reheat on their own.

She’d promised that he’d barely even know that they were there, but she made her loving presence known.

October 1965

Wayne ducked out of his shift at the plant several hours early when he got the call that Linda had gone into labor. His brother wanted him there for support, and he wanted to meet his niece or nephew the second they were born, so he was happy to do it. He sat in the waiting room for hours until his brother came to grab him.

“Ready to meet your nephew?” Richie asked him as they entered the hospital room.

Wayne’s attention was immediately drawn to Linda sitting up in bed cradling her tiny son. She was sweaty, and her wavy, dark hair was even messier than it normally was, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look happier in the six months he’d known her.

“Do you want to hold him?” Linda asked, never looking away from the baby in her arms.

Wayne nodded and made his way to sit in one of the chairs by her bed. Richie carefully took the baby from his girlfriend’s arms and placed him in Wayne’s awaiting hold.

“Wayne, meet Eddie. Eddie, this is your Uncle Wayne.”

"Hey Eddie," Wayne whispered, as he cradled the newborn. "It's nice to meet you."

"His full name is Edward Wayne Munson," Linda said, causing Wayne's gaze to snap up from the baby in his arms to look over at her.

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

Wayne's heart swelled, and he would have been lying if he said that he didn't get a bit choked up.

Wayne was often awake with Linda during the late night feedings. With Richie still going to school and working extra shifts whenever he could to support his little family, he needed all the sleep he could get, so Linda would take Eddie into the living room whenever he got fussy.

"Are you sure this is alright?" she'd asked the first time she accidentally woke him up.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "I've always been more of a night owl anyway."

So the two would sit together at the tiny kitchen table as Linda fed her son, a light blanket draped over her chest to protect her modesty. Not that Wayne would have ever stared at his brother's girl. He'd come to think of her as the sister he never had, and he was fiercely protective of her. He'd make her tea, and she'd tease him about how nice it was to have more than one mug to share between them.

"If I didn't steal my mother's mugs, we wouldn't be able to have nights like these," she said. "And wouldn't that be a shame?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he asked with a small laugh.

"The handle was chipped, Wayne. You only had one mug, and it wasn't even in good condition."

"I've never needed much."

"Well, you'll never have to drink out of a chipped mug again. I'll make sure of it."

On the nights where Eddie was particularly fussy and wouldn't go back to sleep after being fed and changed, Linda would move over to the couch and pass the baby over to Wayne. Wayne would sit in the worn out rocking chair that he'd picked up at the Goodwill, and he'd slowly rock with him as she made herself comfortable. By the dim light of the lamp on the end table, she'd read aloud from her beat up copies of the Lord of the Rings novels, and Eddie would fall asleep to the daring adventures of hobbits and elves with his uncle’s finger in his grasp.

December 1965

Eddie was only a little bit over two months old for his first Christmas, and he could barely hold his own head up, but Linda still went over the top to make it as special as she could on her limited budget.

They couldn’t afford to get Eddie’s photo professionally taken with the Santa at the big department store in the city. It was just too expensive if she wanted to put any gifts under the modest tree that they were all pretty sure Richie had chopped down illegally. Instead, she placed her son in the Christmas stocking that she’d found at Goodwill and stitched his name onto and had Wayne take pictures of him with his beat up polaroid camera. They didn’t have anyone that they wanted to send the pictures to, so every single one was hung up on the refrigerator until Linda decided it was time to add them to her photo album.

“Next year, I want pictures of him playing in the snow,” Linda said as she looked at the collage of photos on their fridge. “And I’m getting a picture of him with Santa even if I have to force one of you to dress up to make it happen.”

On Christmas morning, the three of them sat in a circle on the floor in front of the tree with baby Eddie laying on his stomach in the middle. They all knew that he was too young to know what was going on, but Linda made a point of setting each of Eddie’s gifts in front of him so he could marvel at the brightly colored comics that she’d wrapped them in. There weren’t many presents under the tree, and they were all for Eddie anyway, so everyone was content to sit there with their morning cups of coffee for as long as the baby wasn’t fussy.

“Oh, before I forget,” Linda said as she popped up from her seat leaning against the sofa. She headed back to the bedroom and returned with a small parcel wrapped up in newsprint. She handed it over to Wayne as she sat back down and pulled her son into her lap.

“I thought we agreed on no gifts?” Wayne asked. “Save all our money to make things special for the kid?”

“It’s not from me,” Linda said as Eddie gripped her finger. “It’s from Eddie, of course, and you can’t expect him to follow our rules. He’s just a baby after all.”

Wayne sighed and carefully unwrapped the gift. Inside the crumpled newspaper was a coffee mug with “World’s Best Uncle” hand-painted on the side along with a bright blue baby handprint of Eddie’s.

“It’s not much,” Richie said. “But we hope it shows even a little bit of how thankful we are for everything you’ve done for us.”

“It’s perfect,” Wayne replied. “Really. Thank you.”

April 1967

For Wayne’s twenty-fifth birthday, he insisted that he didn’t need any gifts, and he didn’t want them to make any sort of a fuss over him.

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous,” Linda told him. “We can’t just skip your birthday.”

“I’m happy with what I have,” he said with a shrug. “We don’t need to bring more stuff into this trailer, and I’d much rather just spend the day playing with Eddie and maybe listen to the ball game on the radio if there is one.”

“That’s fine, I guess. But I’m making you your favorite dinner. And a cake. I’ll maybe even get some ice cream to go with it. And we’re singing to you while wearing party hats made out of newspaper whether you like it or not. It’s been decided, and I will not fight with you on this one, Wayne.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a laugh.

So, on his birthday, Linda made a pot roast slow roasted with carrots and onions and a side of mashed potatoes with extra, extra gravy. For dessert, there was a double chocolate chip cake with vanilla frosting and strawberry ice cream. Wayne didn’t fight about the newspaper hat that Linda made him wear, and he pretended that he didn’t hate being the center of attention when they all sang to him if only because he got to hold Eddie while it was happening. The eighteen month old tried to feed him a handful of cake before shoving it in his own mouth and giggling wildly.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Linda set a small gift in front of him. He knew what it was without even opening it. Every time she thought of giving him a gift, it was a coffee mug, and he had started giving the same to her. They’d started an almost competition of sorts, seeing who could find the most interesting mug at Goodwill or one of the small thrift stores in the city. This one was beige and had the words Ohio University Grandma printed in green on the side. It might have been the best one yet.

“We have something else for you,” Richie told him after sharing a look with Linda. “A gift we couldn’t really wrap.”

“I expected the mug, but I told you guys that you didn’t have to give me anything.”

“We know, but this is a really important gift,” his brother continued. “We’re giving you your bedroom back.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind sleeping in the living room. We’ve been over this a hundred times. You need your privacy more than I do, and with the kid, you need the extra space.”

“We know that’s how you feel, Wayne,” Linda said. “But it’s time for you to start sleeping on a real bed again.”

“Which is why we’re moving out,” Richie blurted out.

“You’ve been so good to us these past two years,” Linda continued. “And we are so grateful for everything you’ve done for us and the life you helped us build. It’s because of everything that you did that we know we’re ready to take this step.”

“I finally grew a pair and asked her to marry me, and we found an apartment that’ll be ready for us to move into next month. It’s not going to be easy, but we’re excited. Really excited.”

“Well, I’m really happy for you guys,” Wayne told them. “Truly. But you’re gonna leave the kid with me, right? I’m way too attached to him to let him leave.”

As if agreeing with Wayne, Eddie reached up and pressed a sticky, chocolate-covered hand onto his uncle’s cheek. Wayne dug his fingers into the boy’s side and smiled down at him as he giggled and squirmed.

“I don’t know,” Linda said. “I think I’d miss him too much.” 

She looked at her son as if he was the whole world, and to her, he probably was.

“You’re probably right.”

“But you’ll still see us all the time,” she promised. “We’ll be over here bothering you every chance that we get, and as soon as we’re settled into our place, we’ll be having you over for dinner every single Sunday night. You’ll get sick of us and be longing for some peace and quiet before you know it.”

Wayne didn’t know how to tell them he didn’t need peace and quiet anymore. He’d grown used to coming home from work to see his nephew playing in the living room and laughing as he toddled around the trailer. He was used to Linda singing loudly and off-key along with every song on the radio as she busied herself in the kitchen. He was used to his brother cracking jokes and making loud comments about every single sport he watched on TV. He was used to there being too many people in his tiny trailer, and he didn’t want that to change.

But he was proud of them. So extraordinarily proud of the two of them and the life they were building together. In the past two years, he’d watched them grow from a couple of scared kids into the loving parents that neither of them had ever had themselves. It would hurt to live apart from them, but he knew that it was what was best for all of them.

May 1970

“Munson residence,” Wayne said as he answered his ringing phone.

“Wayne, it’s Linda,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied.

“I was just about to head over to your apartment. Need me to pick up anything on my way?” 

It wasn’t unusual for Linda to ask him to pick up something on the way to dinner. Especially now that she was in college. She’d gotten her GED the year before and was about to finish her first year of schooling to become a teacher. Now that Eddie was a little older and getting ready to start preschool, she was ready to give up her waitressing job and work towards something more stable that fit better with her life as a young mom. Something that would allow her to be home for his bedtime every night.

“Actually, I was calling to ask you for a different sort of favor. I hate to cancel our dinner so last minute, but Richie got called into work for an extra overnight inventory shift at the grocery store, and I have a huge group presentation for one of my classes due tomorrow. Normally, I would give you more notice, but I was wondering if I could maybe drop Eddie off over there for a sleepover? Richie would be able to pick him up first thing in the morning when he gets off work, and this way I can meet up with my classmates to put the finishing touches on our project. I’d owe you a huge favor.”

“You know he’s always welcome over here. Are you heading over now?”

“In a little bit. I still have to pack an overnight bag for the kiddo. One of the girls from my group is going to pick me up, and then we’ll drop Eddie off with you before we head over to the library.”

“Sounds good to me. See you soon.”

While waiting for his sister-in-law and nephew to show up, Wayne looked through the kitchen to see if he actually had anything that he could feed Eddie for dinner. He hadn’t been expecting to have to cook that night, and he usually did his weekly grocery shopping on Mondays before he came home from work. He supposed he could make the kid a TV dinner if it came down to it, and he maybe had a can of soup or two in the cupboard, but neither were up to the standards of the food that Linda normally made him.

But, when Linda arrived with Eddie, she entered the trailer carrying dinner for them.

“I’d already started cooking before Richie got called into work,” she said as she set the lasagna down on the table. “I knew you wouldn’t have had a solid dinner plan, and I wasn’t going to let two of my favorite boys get stuck eating what I’m sure would have been TV dinners.”

“You know me too well.”

Before Linda could respond, Eddie took a running leap at his uncle who caught him easily.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie said as he clung to his uncle’s chest. “We get to have a sleepover! And mama said I can stay up an extra half hour ‘cause it’s a special occasion!”

“She did? Well, that’s a good thing because I was thinking we could have a campout in the living room, and maybe if it’s okay with your mama, we could even make some hot chocolate.”

Eddie shifted in Wayne’s arms to face his mom and fixed her with his best pleading gaze, all puppy dog eyes and pouty bottom lip. The kid had them all wrapped around his little finger, and he knew it.

“How could I say no to this precious face? It’s fine with me,” Linda said with a small laugh at her son’s excitement at her answer.

Wayne set Eddie down on the counter next to the sink.

“Why don’t you wash your hands while I talk to your mama, and then you and I will have some dinner, okay?”

Eddie nodded vigorously and turned on the water, so Wayne turned his attention back to Linda.

“Alright, so bedtime is anywhere between seven thirty and eight tonight. He’s gonna be home with Richie all day tomorrow, and I know it’s going to be a lazy sleepy day anyway, so he’ll get plenty of rest if he doesn’t sleep enough tonight. His pajamas and clothes for tomorrow are in his backpack, but if you don’t have him dressed before he gets picked up, that’s fine, too. If he wants a bedtime story, Peter Pan is his favorite right now, and he usually falls asleep around the second chapter. That’s somewhere in his bag with Mister Lion. I gave him a bath earlier, so you don't need to worry about that, but make sure he brushes his teeth. He will try to convince you that he doesn’t need to, but he wants to be just like his Uncle Wayne, so if you brush your teeth when it’s time for him to, he shouldn’t put up too much of a fight. I don’t think I’m forgetting anything, but it’s not like you’ve never watched him before. You know how to handle my little hellraiser better than anyone.”

She looked over towards her son who was now laying with his stomach flat against the counter as he clapped his hands under the running water repeatedly trying to make the biggest splash he possibly could. She moved to turn off the sink before sitting her son upright on the counter and drying his hands off with the dish towel.

“Were you making a mess of the kitchen, you little stinker?” she teased as she skittered her fingers across her son’s belly.

“No,” he replied through his giggles as he curled in on himself. She stopped tickling him and ruffled his messy curls that matched her own.

“You be good for your Uncle Wayne, okay? Daddy will be here to pick you up first thing in the morning. Now give mama big hugs and kisses.”

Eddie stood up on the counter and flung his arms around Linda’s neck. Once she’d wrapped her arms around the boy, he moved his hands to squish her cheeks as he smothered her with as many kisses as he could give.

“I love you so much, Eddie Bear,” she told him, laughing as he kissed one of her eyes.

“I love you more,” he replied.

“And I love you most.”

She gave him one last big squeeze and kissed his forehead before setting him down on the ground.

“Alright, I’ve kept Sandy waiting out in the car long enough. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Wayne and Eddie had a relatively easy night together. They ate dinner, and Eddie didn’t fuss when Wayne had to wash the sauce off of his face afterwards. He sat at the kitchen table drawing pictures with the crayons and notebook paper they kept at the trailer for him while his uncle cleaned up the kitchen, and he narrated all of his art as he drew. They had the hot chocolate that Wayne promised with extra marshmallows, and there were no complaints about brushing teeth since Wayne was brushing his teeth, too. Wayne set up the foldout bed in the living room with an extra set of sheets and the fuzzy yellow blanket that was Eddie’s favorite. They both changed into their pajamas, and then they read four chapters of Peter Pan before Eddie fell asleep on the couch curled up against his uncle’s side with his fingers threaded through Mister Lion’s mane. Wayne carefully moved the sleeping boy to the bed and placed a kiss on his forehead. He fell asleep on the couch shortly after.

Wayne always woke up at five without an alarm clock no matter what time he went to bed the night before. It was both a blessing and a curse. Being careful to keep quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake Eddie, he made his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower before his brother got there. He didn’t know when his brother would be there, so he wanted to be ready to head to the plant early just in case he’d be racing out the door.

When he was finished getting ready, he headed into the kitchen where he found a very sleepy looking Eddie with the fuzzy, yellow blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was dragging Mister Lion by his tail behind him.

"What are you doing up, Eds? Did I wake you?" he asked.

"Bad dream," Eddie replied, sniffling a little. “‘Mnot scared, but Mister Lion needed a hug.”

Wayne scooped Eddie up, and the boy immediately wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck.

“I got ya, buddy,” he said as he rubbed the boy’s back. “I got ya.”

Wayne continued to hold Eddie as he moved around the kitchen and started his morning coffee. Once he’d poured himself a cup, he headed to sit down on the couch.

“Why don’t you try to get a little more sleep, Eds?” he suggested. “I’ll start making breakfast after I finish my coffee, and then I’ll get you up, okay?”

Eddie nodded a little and moved to curl up next to his uncle on the couch not wanting to stray too far from the comfort that he’d found.

By the time Wayne had finished his coffee and used the little he had left in his kitchen to make some scrambled eggs and toast for the boy, it was close to seven. He had to be at the plant by seven thirty, so he was going to have to call in sick if his brother didn’t show up soon.

Eddie was not a morning person, so it took a few minutes for Wayne to get him up and seated at the table, and when he glanced at the clock on his wall, he knew he wasn’t going to make it to work on time.

“Mr. O’Grady? It’s Wayne Munson,” he started when his boss at the plant finally answered the phone. “I’m gonna be a little late for my shift. I’m watching my nephew. My brother was supposed to pick him up by now, but I’ve still got the kid, and I can’t leave him here alone.”

“It’s fine, Munson,” his boss answered. “In the ten years you’ve worked here, you’ve never taken a vacation, and the only times you’ve ever called off were when your nephew was born and when he broke his wrist last year. Take the day to spend with the kid. Sullivan has been asking for more hours anyway, and I can call him in to cover for you this time.”

“Thanks, Mr. O’Grady,” he said as he lunged to take the ketchup bottle away from Eddie before he could empty the entire thing onto his plate. “I really appreciate it.”

Wayne poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down across from Eddie who was more interested in eating ketchup than the eggs on his plate. He figured that inventory took a little bit longer than expected. The grocery store opened at nine, so they’d have to be done by then, and if his brother wasn’t at the trailer by nine thirty, he’d start calling their apartment.

Nine thirty came and went, and the phone call to Richie and Linda’s apartment went unanswered. The same happened every other time he called between then and noon. Wayne was starting to get worried, but he was trying his best not to let it show. His focus was on Eddie who didn’t seem to mind that he got to spend extra time there.

Finally, when Wayne was getting ready to set the table with the TV dinners that he’d ended up making for their lunch, someone answered the phone at the apartment.

“Hello?”

“Is everything okay over there?” Wayne asked, skipping the pleasantries. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.”

“Everything’s fine. I was sleeping,” Richie replied. “What time is it?”

“For the love of god, Richie.” Wayne lowered his voice and glanced into the living room to make sure Eddie wasn’t paying attention to him before he continued. “I was starting to think something bad had happened. I called you at least a dozen times. Scared the shit outta me.”

“I’m sorry. I came home from work and passed out immediately. Didn’t hear the phone until just now.”

“But you were supposed to pick up Eddie before you went home.”

“I stopped on the way to change my clothes. Smelled like sweat and pickle juice after someone dropped a box and the shit splattered everywhere. I figured Linda changed her mind and was picking him up since she wasn’t home when I got here.”

“Well, she definitely didn’t come here.”

“She had a group presentation due today, and she was really hounding the other girls to make sure it was perfect. She probably just caught the bus and headed over to campus early. Do you want me to come over and get Eddie?”

“Don’t worry about it. You should get some more sleep. One of you can come and grab him after Linda gets home from class.”

“Are you sure? I know he can be a handful.”

“We’re fine. I’ll take him to the park or something, and he can do my grocery shopping with me. Besides, I just made him lunch, and I kinda like having him around.”

“You wanna keep him?” Richie asked with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt me,” Wayne responded with a laugh of his own. “But I don’t think Linda would be too happy about it.”

“You’re probably right. We’ll give you a call when we’re on our way to get him, okay? Most likely right around dinner time?”

“Sounds good to me.”

After lunch, Wayne finally got Eddie dressed and took him to the playground across town. Since they’d done nothing but sit around the trailer all morning, the kid had a lot of energy to burn, and he chose to burn it by giving his uncle a heart attack every time he went to leap off of something he probably shouldn’t have climbed in the first place. Eventually, he got tired of scaring years off of his uncle’s life, and Wayne agreed to push him on the swings as long as he promised not to jump off of those, too.

Once he’d successfully tired out the kid, Wayne loaded Eddie into his truck and headed to the grocery store. His usual get in, get what he needs, and get out trip took a lot longer than normal with his nephew riding in the cart, but debating about breakfast cereal and lunch meat with a kid who wasn’t even going to be eating them was wildly entertaining. In the end, he only ended up with three things that Eddie had wanted in his cart, and he was taking that as a win.

Standing in the checkout line, Wayne couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the two housewives behind him. He wasn’t one to pay attention to town gossip, but he couldn’t ignore them.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about the accident last night,” the first woman said.

“News travels fast in a small town like Hawkins,” the second replied. “It’s a shame really. Those poor girls.”

“Oh, I know. I wonder if they’ve been able to find their families by now. Eleanor said that they weren’t sure who to call.”

“How did Eleanor get so much information about this anyway? It wasn’t in any of the papers today.”

“Her husband was on duty, and you know he went home and told her every detail. The man can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Can you blame him? A drunk driver crashing into a car full of girls leaving the community college library is probably the most exciting thing he’s ever seen working around here. Not that a tragedy is exciting mind you. It’s just more interesting to talk about than the occasional traffic violation.”

Wayne almost dropped the milk that he was holding on the ground. Their conversation meant nothing to him. To him, or his brother, or the little boy who was currently fighting to stay awake in his shopping cart. The fact that no one had seen Linda since last night was merely a coincidence. She was probably at home with Richie right now telling him all about how her presentation went and getting ready to pick up her son. She had to be.

But, when Wayne pulled up to his trailer to find his brother sitting on his front step looking more scared and alone than he had when he came to tell him that Linda was pregnant, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Wayne held Eddie throughout the funeral. Richie was an absolute wreck and could barely hold himself together let alone take care of his son. But he had his older brother to help pick up the pieces, and that was a comfort in such an upsetting time.

Wayne hadn’t expected such a large turnout for the funeral. With the way she lit up every room she entered, the fact that she had had an effect on so many people in her short twenty one years shouldn’t have been a huge surprise. There were groups of girls from all of Linda’s classes, and the diner had closed for the day because all of the waitresses and cooks wanted to be there. There were high school friends who had just arrived home from college, and there were families from their apartment building. All there to pay their respects. The only notable absence was Linda’s own parents. Not that anyone had really expected them to show up anyway. They hadn’t tried to contact her at all in the time since they’d kicked her out, and Wayne would have forced them to leave if they’d tried to show their faces.

After the services, Wayne took Eddie straight back to the apartment. He and Richie had discussed it beforehand, and they figured that the whole situation would be too overwhelming for him. They’d explained to him what had happened in a way that was simple enough for a child to understand, but the boy was still so young and confused about why his mother wasn’t coming home. He didn’t need to be surrounded by a bunch of people he didn’t know talking about what a shame it was that his mother was gone.

So, while his brother stayed behind to receive condolences, Wayne reheated one of the many casseroles people had dropped off at the apartment for them, gave Eddie a bath, and put him to bed. But throughout it all, he couldn’t help but notice that his usually bright and talkative nephew was the most quiet and reserved he’d ever been since he learned how to talk.

When Richie finally came home, he didn’t say anything. Just grabbed the casserole dish that Wayne had left on the counter along with a fork and sat down on the sofa where Wayne was pretending he cared about whatever was on TV.

Without saying anything, Wayne got up and grabbed a drink for his brother. Nothing fancy. Just a glass of the iced tea from the fridge. But there was an unspoken meaning behind it that they both could feel. That Wayne was always going to take care of them and get them what they needed. No matter what, he would always be there.

“Thanks,” Richie said as he accepted the glass. “For everything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wayne replied. “It’s what I’m here for.”

August 1970

Sunday dinners had remained the norm for the three Munson men, but Linda’s absence was always in the forefront of their minds. Not just because she was the best cook out of the three, but because she was the one who really got them to talk to each other. Wayne and Richie were never big talkers, and she had bridged their gap in communication.

And maybe that was why Wayne had accepted the Sunday overtime shifts that were offered to him. He hated missing the time with his family, but he hated the awkward silences more.

After not attending Sunday dinner for nearly a month, he figured that it was time to start going back. Eddie was starting school soon, and he felt guilty for the time he was missing with the kid. He felt even more guilty once he saw the state of their apartment.

He’d let himself in like he normally did, and the first thing he noticed was his brother passed out on the couch. There were empty beer cans strewn across the floor around him, and the room was in complete disarray. The kitchen wasn’t any better. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, and the trashcan was filled with enough beer cans to show that this probably wasn’t the first time this had happened.

He made his way back to Eddie’s room since the kid was nowhere to be found in the front of the apartment, and he found his nephew happily playing alone. It wasn’t exactly a comforting sight though. While the room was in relatively decent shape, the laundry hamper was overflowing to the point where there were small piles of clothes surrounding it, and there was a distinct odor hanging in the air. But the worst part was Eddie himself. The boy looked dirty. This definitely wasn’t the first day that he’d worn those clothes, and his hair was a tangled mess that obviously hadn’t been washed anytime recently.

“How’s it goin’, Eds?” Wayne asked, finally alerting his nephew to his presence.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie leaped up from his spot on the floor to give his uncle a hug.

As Wayne picked up the boy, he was hit with another wave of that stench, and his suspicions about said stench coming from Eddie were confirmed.

“So, when was the last time you had a bath?” he asked.

“We don’t have to do that anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said with a little shrug.

“And I’m guessing you’d have the same answer if I asked why the kitchen isn’t clean?”

“Yep.”

“And why the laundry isn’t done?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know anything?” Wayne teased.

“I know we’re eating TV dinners tonight!” Eddie said, excited that he could tell his uncle something.

“And how do you know that?”

“‘Cause we eat ‘em every night. Daddy puts ‘em on a plate so I won’t know, but he never throws out the box cause he’s too busy sleeping on the couch.”

“Does he do that a lot? Sleep on the couch like that, I mean?”

“Yeah. He’s no good at bedtime anymore.”

Wayne couldn’t tell if he was more heartbroken for his nephew or angry at his brother at that moment. All he knew was that he needed to do something.

“How do you feel about coming over for a sleepover?” Wayne asked. “We haven’t had one of those in awhile, and I miss hanging out with my favorite kid.”

Eddie’s response was an enthusiastic yes, so Wayne set him back down.

“I’m gonna go talk to your daddy, and then we’ll get your stuff ready to go, okay?”

“Okay!”

Part of Wayne wanted to be thankful that at least Eddie still seemed happy. He was okay on the inside even if it was clear that his dad had dropped the ball. But a much larger part of him was consumed by his anger. Angry at his brother for letting his home get this messy. Angry at his brother for clearly not taking care of his child. Angry at his brother for picking up their father’s bad habits.

But, most of all, Wayne was angry at himself for avoiding the awkward silences. If he’d kept going over for Sunday dinners, he would have caught the warning signs sooner. He could have kept things from getting this bad. He could have done something to help, and he was going to live with the guilt of not helping sooner for a very long time.

When Richie didn’t respond to his name or being shaken, Wayne grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and dumped it over his brother’s head.

“What the hell, Wayne?” Richie sputtered as he came to and glared up at his brother.

“Don’t what the hell me,” Wayne replied. He was trying to keep his volume down so Eddie wouldn’t hear them. “It’s barely five o’clock on a Sunday, and you were passed out drunk.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. I shouldn’t have to tell you that with the way we grew up. Do you really want to put your kid through that?”

“I’m not turning into dad.” Richie sat up and laid his head in his hands. “I will never be anything like that man. I’m just not doing the best right now, okay? After everything, I lost my job. Missed too many shifts. It all spiraled from there. I just need some time to get back on my feet so we don’t lose the apartment.”

“You can’t take time when you’ve got Eddie to think about,” Wayne said as he took a seat next to his brother. “I’m bringing him home with me. This isn’t good for him, and you know it.”

“You can’t take my kid away from me.”

“The boy stinks, and I’m guessing he barely has any clean clothes left from what I saw in his room. This place is a wreck, and you don’t seem to care because you’re too busy drinking. He told me all you do is sleep on the couch like you were when I got here.”

Wayne ran a hand over the back of his neck. He hated putting this out there, but he had to open his brother’s eyes, and he didn’t see any other way.

“He starts preschool next week, Richie. If he gets there looking and smelling the way he does now or tells anyone anything about the way you’re living, someone is going to come here and take him away from you. He needs a safe and stable living environment, and this isn’t one right now. So you can either let him come with me while you pull yourself together, and you can still come and see him everyday. Or you can keep living like this, and you could wind up losing him for good. The choice is yours, and one of those options seems a lot better than the other to me.”

“Shit.”

Richie kicked the coffee table in frustration and sent empty beer cans flying.

“So, I can come see him everyday?” he asked after a moment.

“Whenever you want. I promise.”

“Okay . . . I’m not really turning into dad, am I?”

“No. I just think you went through some shit that you’re way too young for, and it made you make some bad choices. You’ve at least acknowledged it, so you’re doing better than he ever did.”

Wayne didn’t wait for a response from his brother. He just grabbed a garbage bag from the cabinet under the sink and headed back to Eddie’s room where he started shoving all of the dirty clothes into the bag.

“You can’t throw away my clothes,” Eddie pouted. “I need those.”

“I’m not throwing them away. I’m gonna do your laundry. Your daddy is awake, so why don’t you go talk to him while I get your stuff ready to go?”

Once Eddie’s clothes were taken care of, Wayne moved around the room grabbing whatever he saw that he thought his nephew would maybe want at his house and loading it into the duffle bag he found under the bed. He took the dinosaurs and toy cars that Eddie had been playing with when he came in. He took the stack of books and photo albums that were sitting on the tiny nightstand by his bed. He even grabbed the toy guitar that he was sure he was going to regret bringing with him. And, of course, he grabbed Mister Lion.

After a quick trip into the bathroom to grab Eddie’s toothbrush and other toiletries, he headed back into the living room where Eddie was giving his dad a goodbye hug.

“You be extra good for your uncle, okay?” Richie said as he pulled away from his son. “And I’ll be over to see you every day.”

“You promise?” Eddie asked.

“Cross my heart.”

Once they were back at the trailer, the first thing Wayne did was give Eddie a bath.

“I thought I didn’t need to do this anymore,” Eddie pouted as his uncle worked the shampoo into his hair.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Eds,” Wayne replied. “You smell, and I can’t have you stinking up my trailer. So, it’s either you take a bath on a regular basis, or you’re sleeping on the porch.”

Eddie looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

“You’d make me sleep on the porch?

“Never. Which is why we need to get you cleaned up.”

Getting Eddie bathed was the easy part. Tackling the tangled mess of his hair was an entirely different beast. Wayne tried to be as careful as possible as he worked through the knots, but Eddie was especially tender-headed, and his hair was a mess from the neglect, so there were plenty of complaints and tears.

“Mama never made it hurt,” Eddie said between his sniffles.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” Wayne replied. “I’m being as gentle as I can.”

“I miss her.”

“I know. Me, too.”

Wayne made grilled cheese and tomato soup for their dinner. It wasn’t anything special, but it was better than a TV dinner, and he made himself a promise that he’d never feed his nephew one of those for dinner ever again if he could help it. And, after the table was cleared and the dishes were done, he put the kettle on the stove to start heating up some water to make tea for himself and hot chocolate for Eddie.

When Wayne’s mug collection started to outgrow the small cabinet shelf, he’d moved most of them into the living room to put on display, but his favorites were kept in the kitchen for easy use. He pulled out the mug from Eddie’s first Christmas for himself, and then he grabbed Linda’s favorite mug - the light blue one with the pink rosettes - for Eddie. He carefully carried the mugs over to the coffee table before going through the bag of Eddie’s things to find the book he was looking for.

“Hey, Eddie, can you come over here?” he called over to his nephew as he sat down on the couch.

Eddie abandoned his crayons and the picture he was drawing to climb onto the couch with his uncle.

“You were too little to remember it, but did your mama and daddy ever tell you that you all lived here with me when you were a baby?”

“We did?”

“You did. The three of you shared my bedroom, and I slept out here. Whenever you were up at night, your mama would come sit in the kitchen, and we’d have tea together while she fed you. And then, when you still wouldn’t go back to sleep, she’d hand you over to me. We’d sit over here, and she’d read her favorite book to you until you fell asleep in my arms.”

Wayne grabbed the mugs off of the table and passed Eddie’s to him before picking up the copy of The Hobbit that he’d set aside.

“I know you miss your mama, and I know this isn’t the same as having her here, but this is a little piece of her that I can share with you.”

Eddie curled up against his uncle, and they sipped their drinks as Wayne started to read Linda’s most favorite adventure out loud to her son. It wasn’t much, but it was all Wayne could do to make Eddie’s first night in his trailer a little bit easier.

December 1970

Richie had made good on his promise to come and visit every day for the first two months that Eddie was staying with Wayne. But right around Halloween, he started missing days. And then multiple days in a row. It broke Wayne’s heart every time he saw Eddie realize that his dad had forgotten about him again, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Richie had either stopped answering his phone at the apartment, or he was never home no matter what time of day Wayne called. Nor did he answer the door any of the times Wayne dropped by to check on him.

On Christmas Eve, Wayne realized that his brother hadn’t been over to see them since Thanksgiving, and he wasn’t sure if they’d be seeing him at all the next day. Wayne wasn’t going to let his brother’s screw ups ruin the holiday for Eddie though. It was going to be hard enough on him to spend his first Christmas without his mom. He didn’t want the whole day to be miserable.

Wayne had hidden all of Eddie’s gifts from Santa in the cabinet over the fridge - the only cabinet that Eddie hadn’t found a way to climb to yet - and he had gotten a small tree to prop up in the corner. It wasn’t very impressive, but Eddie was all smiles when he got to put the star on top, and that was good enough for him. He’d even picked up everything he needed to make cinnamon french toast for breakfast and a roast for Christmas dinner. It was shaping up to be a fairly decent holiday.

But, when he asked Eddie if he was excited for Santa to visit them that night, he was met with frustrated tears instead of the happiness he’d expected. Wayne stopped what he was doing and went over to where Eddie was sitting on the couch. The boy had tears streaming down his cheeks, and his tiny hands were balled into tight fists.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Wayne asked as he knelt down to get on Eddie’s level.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“I forgot your present, and now it’s too late.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to get me anything. I promise.”

“No, I gotta,” Eddie said as he wiped at his tears. “Mama said it wasn’t special if you didn’t get a mug, and I wanted it to be special.”

Wayne moved to sit on the couch and scooped Eddie up in his arms, allowing the boy to cry into his shoulder and get his feelings out.

“I was going to ask daddy to take me, but he’s never here.”

Wayne could pinpoint a lot of things about his brother that had angered him lately, but he didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for hurting Eddie like this. Still, he didn’t want his nephew to end up hating his dad. When Richie pulled it together, they’d be a family again, and he didn’t want moments like this to sour that.

“It’s my fault, Eds,” Wayne lied as he rubbed Eddie’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “Your daddy gave me some money so you could buy me a Christmas gift and told me that I should take you, and I got so busy with work that I just forgot about it. But if we leave right now, I bet we can make it to the Goodwill in time for you to pick out something real special.”

The opportunity to go present shopping cheered Eddie up immediately, and before Wayne knew it, the boy was pulling at his arm to get him to help grab his coat and shoes.

The Goodwill was still open when they got there, and nobody was inside except for the very bored looking teenager running the cash register.

“Now, you go pick something out, and I’ll wait here until after you’ve paid so whatever you pick can be a surprise,” Wayne said as he handed Eddie a few dollars.

Eddie took the money and wandered off towards where the homegoods were kept, and Wayne busied himself by looking at a rack of kids clothes near the front of the store. He wasn’t necessarily planning on buying anything, but if he could maybe find something decent that would fit Eddie, he might as well look. He only turned his attention back to the checkout counter when he heard his nephew’s voice.

“Excuse me,” Eddie said as he reached up to set his purchase on the counter. The counter was taller than he was, so he had to stretch just a little bit. “I want to buy this as a Christmas gift for my uncle, please. I have my own money and everything.”

“Well, aren’t you the cutest,” the girl working the cash register said as she picked up his mug. “Are you sure this is the one you want to get him though?”

“Yes, it’s the best one.”

“Okay, that’ll be one dollar. And for an extra quarter, I can even put it in one of these fancy gift bags for you if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” Eddie set his money on the counter and waited as the girl got his change and wrapped his purchase.

“Here you go, sweetie,” the girl said as she handed Eddie his things.

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!”

Eddie raced back over to his uncle, and it was apparent that the tears from earlier were long forgotten.

When Wayne unwrapped his new “Virginia is for Lovers” mug in front of the tree on Christmas morning, he couldn’t contain his laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked.

“It’s nothing Eds. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Did I pick a good one then?”

“You picked the best one. I love it.”

And he did. Not just because it was Eddie that gave it to him, but because he knew it was the exact mug Linda would have chosen if she was there.

June 1973

Wayne and Eddie had settled into a routine together. During the school year, Wayne put Eddie on the bus before heading to work, and then he picked him up from after school care on the way home. Wayne made them dinner while Eddie did whatever homework he had to do, and then it was bathtime and books before bed. There wasn’t really enough room for two beds in Wayne’s bedroom, but he’d rearranged the furniture enough that they could just barely fit the fold out bed in his room when Eddie had expressed that he didn’t like sleeping out in the living room alone.

The only difference during the summer was that Eddie went to daycare instead of school. It was a little too expensive, but Wayne was doing his best to make it work.

Richie’s visits were few and far between at this point. They were lucky if he came to visit Eddie once a month, but it was usually a longer absence than that. They didn’t even have a way to contact him when he was gone anymore because he’d lost the apartment, and the only reason they knew he lost the apartment was because he’d told Wayne that if there was anything of Eddie’s still there, he should probably get it before the landlord changed the locks. When Wayne had showed up to grab the rest of Eddie’s toys and books, he’d grabbed the rest of the photo albums and a few of Linda’s things that were still around that he thought Eddie might like to have one day. Richie was supposed to give them his new address and phone number once he’d settled into a new place, but that had been nearly a year ago, and Wayne wasn’t holding his breath. His brother had broken so many promises since Eddie had moved in with Wayne, that he had a hard time believing anything his brother said.

So, when Richie showed up that morning and said that he wanted to take Eddie for the whole day, Wayne couldn’t have been more surprised. Even when Richie did remember to show up, he never spent the whole day with his own kid. But his brother said he had a new job, and he wanted to celebrate with his son. Wayne was reluctant to let it happen, but he knew the kid missed his dad, and if Richie wanted to step up, it would at least give him a chance to get some work done around the trailer without any distractions.

But when they came back around dinner time, Wayne regretted letting them go alone. Physically, Eddie was fine, but they returned in a different car than the one they’d left in. A much nicer car that Wayne knew his brother wouldn’t have been able to afford. He’d heard some rumors about cars getting stolen around Hawkins and getting brought to a chop shop somewhere outside of the town, but he hadn’t given it much thought since no one wanted to steal a car from someone who lived in a trailer park.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie said as he climbed out the car and ran to his uncle. “We had the best day!”

“You did?”

“Yeah! First, we went to the arcade, and then we got hot dogs, and after that, dad showed me how I can get any car I want for free!”

“Oh really?” Wayne glanced over at his brother who was leaning against the hood of what Eddie had all but confirmed was definitely a stolen car. “That sounds like a really great day, Eds. Why don’t you go inside and get washed up for dinner while your dad and I have a little chat, okay?”

Wayne waited until Eddie was out of earshot before he walked over to his brother.

“Seriously, Richie? Is that what your new job is? Stealing cars?”

“Lighten up. Do you know how much money I get for each car I bring in? I might actually be able to afford a decent apartment again, and I can quit sleeping on people’s couches. Eddie could even come stay with me.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. Being enmeshed in illegal activities is exactly what every seven year old needs. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son, Wayne. I think I know what I’m doing here.”

“Well, that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Since when are you the one raising him, Richie? The last time I checked, we haven’t seen you since March.”

“He’s still my son.”

“Then act like it. Because I’m the one who gets him to and from school and makes sure he gets his homework done. I’m the one who makes sure that he’s fed and clothed and has a roof over his head. I’m the one that he cries out for whenever he has a bad dream or he’s sick. And I’m the one who comforts him and distracts him every time you say you’ll be here and then don’t show up because you’re too drunk or you overslept or just forgot and didn’t care. And I am sick of you coming back around for a day and lying to him about how you’re going to be around more often and promising to spend more time with him because every time you break that promise, his heart breaks all over again. He deserves better than that, and you know it.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t just tell me to shut up when you don’t want to hear the truth, and frankly, I’ve stayed quiet long enough. This is something you should have heard a long time ago.”

“I said shut up.”

“If she could see the way that you’re treating her boy, Linda would be so ashamed of you right now.”

“Fuck you!”

Richie launched up from where he was leaning on the car to post up to his brother. For a minute, Wayne was convinced that Richie was going to take a swing at him from the anger burning in his eyes, but nothing happened.

“You want me to be a better dad? Fine. I’ll be a better dad,” he spat as he stormed toward the trailer door. “We don’t need any help from you anymore.”

Before Wayne knew it, his brother was marching out of the trailer pulling a very confused looking Eddie behind him.

“Say goodbye to your uncle, Eddie,” Richie said as he opened his car door. “You’re not going to be seeing him for a while.”

“Richie, be reasonable.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Wayne. Either I’m the dad that you want me to be, or I leave him here with you. So I’m taking my son, and we’re leaving because I will not stand here and listen to you insult me. And if I ever hear Linda’s name leave your mouth again, that’ll be the last time you ever speak.”

Richie climbed into the car and slammed his door shut. Once Eddie was inside with him, he sped away and out of the trailer park leaving Wayne to spend the night alone for the first time in years.

February 1976

It was after midnight when Wayne got the call. He'd been asleep for a few hours at that point, and he'd been woken up by the phone. At first, he'd tried to ignore the call, but the person on the other end of the line was persistent, so the phone just kept ringing. He stumbled out of his bedroom and into the kitchen to grab the phone.

“Hello?” Wayne answered the phone, his voice hoarse from barely being awake.

“Have we reached Wayne Munson?”

“Speaking.”

“Mr. Munson, this is Chief Carver with the Hawkins police department. We currently have your brother in custody down at the station. His bail hasn’t been set just yet, and he declined his one phone call, but I’m calling to inform you that we also have your nephew here. He was asleep in the back of the car when my officers picked up your brother, and we’ve been told that you’re the only other family the boy has. We were hoping to place the child in your care as we’d rather contact family than anyone else in situations like these.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

Wayne didn’t need to hear anything else before he was putting on real pants and racing down to the station. He’d barely seen his brother and nephew since their fight as Richie had cut him out of their lives. He only saw them in passing, but Richie would quickly leave whatever public space they were in when he noticed Wayne was there, too. And even if he had a phone number, he doubted Richie would take his calls. He didn’t want to say that he was afraid of what he’d find when he got there, but he wasn’t expecting anything good.

“I got a call from the chief about my brother,” Wayne said as he walked up to the officer sitting behind the front desk. “I’m supposed to be picking up my nephew.”

“Wayne Munson, right?” the officer asked. “I’ll take you back to see your nephew shortly. Just gotta go over some official business first. You know how it is. Now, your brother will be staying here overnight because we won’t be able to get him arraigned until morning.”

“What is he facing in the way of charges?”

“Well, for starters, he was already wanted for multiple counts of grand theft auto and the possession and selling of stolen merchandise. Tonight, he was picked up on a DUI with multiple traffic violations, expired plates, and child endangerment to sweeten the deal. There was also a startling amount of liquor in the car with him. When he was pulled over, he attempted to assault an officer, and he resisted arrest. We don’t expect you to stay here until he’s arraigned, so we can call you and let you know what his bail is set at after the hearing occurs.”

“Don’t bother,” Wayne replied. “I won’t be posting his bail. All I care about is my nephew. Is he okay?”

“As far as we can tell, the boy is fine. A little shaken up, but okay. He was asleep in the backseat when the car was pulled over, and he only woke up when your brother started to get belligerent. We have reason to believe they were living out of the car from the sheer amount of stuff loaded into the trunk and backseat. Because the car was one of the ones he’s accused of stealing, everything inside it was admitted into evidence. However, we’re hoping someone will be able to sort through it after the weekend, so we can set aside anything that belongs to the boy and get it to you then.”

“Can I see him now? I just want to take him home.”

Finally, the officer led him back to the station’s break room where he found Eddie sitting on the sofa with his knees hugged to his chest.

“Alright, Eddie,” the officer said. “Your uncle is here to take you home.”

Eddie got up from the sofa and headed over towards where they were standing without saying a word. It was the quietest that Wayne had ever seen the boy other than when he was sleeping, and he hated it more than he could say.

Eddie stayed quiet the entire way back to the trailer despite Wayne asking him how he was doing, telling him he missed him, and just trying to get even the smallest bit of a conversation going. He tried not to read too much into it. It had most likely been an overwhelming night for him so far, and he was probably worn out.

It was only once they were back at the trailer that Wayne realized he didn’t have any pajamas or extra clothes for Eddie. He still had most of the clothes that had been left behind when his brother had taken the boy back, but he’d grown in the three years since he’d worn any of that stuff, so Wayne doubted he’d be comfortable in any of them. He grabbed one of his own t-shirts out of the basket of clean laundry he’d neglected to put away and offered it to Eddie.

“I know it’s not pajamas, but you might be more comfortable sleeping in this.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie replied, not bothering to take the shirt. “I sleep like this most of the time.”

The boy moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and Wayne set the shirt down on the coffee table just in case Eddie ended up changing his mind.

“How long do I get to stay here?” Eddie asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I gonna have to go stay somewhere else?”

“No, Eds. You’re here with me for good.” Even if Richie didn’t end up in jail for any of the charges he was facing, Wayne was never letting Eddie out of his sight again. Even if that meant spending what little money he had on a custody battle for his nephew’s wellbeing.

Wayne noted the confused look on Eddie’s face at his response, but he didn’t press the issue further. It had already been a long night for the both of them, and he was surprised that Eddie wasn’t already passed out.

“I’ve still got all of your stuff here from before, so I figure we can go through it tomorrow. See if any of your clothes might still fit or if there are any toys you might still want, and then we can go to the Goodwill and maybe get you some new things to replace what doesn’t work anymore.”

“You kept my stuff?”

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said as he looked down at his shoes. “Figured you wouldn’t want my stuff here either.”

It was the either that struck him. How Eddie was so quiet when he said it as if he didn’t want to voice his fears out loud. Wayne moved to sit next to Eddie on the couch.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Eds. You’re upset, and I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Eddie refused to look at his uncle, continuing to stare at the ground instead.

“Dad said you didn’t want me here anymore. That there wasn’t space for me, so I had to go back with him.”

Wayne thought that being punched in the chest would have been less painful than hearing that. As much as he wanted to sit there and call his brother a liar along with a slew of much harsher names, he couldn’t let himself do that. Eddie had already been through so much that night, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for worsening the boy’s opinion of his own dad. Instead, he placed a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. There was not a day that went by that I didn’t wish you were here with me. Your dad and I had just had a fight, and it made more sense for you to be with him than it did for you to stay here. That’s all it was.”

Wayne got up from the sofa and moved over to where the old foldout bed was pushed into the corner. Behind it was a small, wooden chest. He picked up the chest and set it back down in front of Eddie. He encouraged Eddie to open it, and when the boy did, the first thing he saw was his old stuffed lion. He pulled the plushie out and hugged it to his chest before looking back to find many more of his childhood play things. Toy cars, dinosaurs, and little army men mixed in with crayon stumps, notebooks filled with his drawings, and his mother’s well-loved copies of Tolkien’s epic fantasy. The boy looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry if my mistakes ever made you feel unwanted,” Wayne started, “because the truth is that I would still want you here and have the space for you even if this trailer was the size of my bathroom and nothing bigger.”

“You swear?” Eddie asked. He held out his pinky, and his uncle immediately gripped it with his own.

“I swear.”

Wayne moved to set up the fold out bed.

“You don’t have to go through any of that tonight. It’s late enough as it is. Let me get your bed set up, and we can deal with all of that tomorrow.”

“I’m fine on the couch.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not gonna let you sleep on the couch when I’ve got a perfectly good bed for you.”

“It’s really okay. When we weren’t sleeping in the car, I slept on a lot of couches at other people’s places. The floor sometimes, too. But I always liked the couches best."

The boy seemed eager to please as if he'd been told not to be difficult about where he slept in the past. To accept what he was offered without complaint. Wayne didn't want to fight him on this, but he also didn't want Eddie to think that this was any trouble for him. He'd give him the choice and let the boy do whatever he was most comfortable with.

"Well, I'm just gonna go ahead and set up the bed anyway. You don't have to sleep on it if you don't want to, but I want you to have it as an option."

Wayne barely slept that night. Eddie had looked at the fold out bed as if it was a trap before curling up into a ball on the sofa. It was then that it occurred to him that his nephew hadn't had his own room or any space to really call his own since the first time he'd come to live at the trailer. He'd always shared his uncle's room or the living room or whatever space his dad was able to provide.

Wayne had never needed much space. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and he figured he could fit most of his things in the tiny closet outside the bathroom if he did a little rearranging. Most of his drawers had been taken up by Eddie’s clothes when he lived there the first time anyway. He could take the fold out bed in the living room and give up his bedroom for his nephew. And if Eddie had his own space, maybe that would silence whatever was telling him that he was unwanted and allow him to relax.

So, instead of sleeping, he went through his closet. The boxes filled with Eddie’s old clothes were emptied onto the bed so he could load them up with his things. Moving it all into the hall closet and drawers could wait until morning since he didn’t want to accidentally wake his nephew, but he could get the room mostly ready for the boy to move into it. 

By the time it was a reasonable enough hour for him to go and make his morning coffee, he had all of his stuff piled in boxes in the corner and another box of things he was planning on donating to Goodwill. He figured he could wash the sheets and put a fresh set on the bed later, but everything else was ready.

Eddie was still curled up asleep on the couch when Wayne exited the bedroom, so he tried to be as quiet as possible as he started the coffee. He woke up before the coffee was done though, and soon enough, he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stood next to his uncle in the kitchen.

“You sleep okay, kiddo?” Wayne asked as he pulled out a couple cereal bowls.

Eddie nodded before moving to take his normal spot at the small table. Wayne didn’t want to pry too much, but he was clueless about what Eddie’s life had been like over the last few years, so he tried to get the boy to talk to him without it seeming like he was interrogating him.

Over bowls of Cheerios, Eddie shared that most of the time, his dad had him hang out at the comic book shop after school and on the weekends. He wasn’t supposed to get in the way while Richie was working, so every week, his dad gave him two dollars, and he could spend that on whatever comics he wanted even if the only ones he really cared about were the X-Men ones. The guy who ran the shop was really nice and let Eddie sit there for as long as he needed to even on the days that he wasn’t buying anything. He never missed school, and his dad always made sure he was fed, so at least he hadn’t been lacking in those departments. Richie was neglectful in a lot of ways, but he had managed to do the bare minimum. He could be thankful for that at least.

After breakfast, Wayne had Eddie help him sort through the boy’s old clothes. None of the pants were going to fit him anymore, but he had a handful of shirts that had been a little big before that he could still fit into. Wayne just hoped that they’d be able to find a few pairs of jeans in decent shape while they were at Goodwill because he definitely didn’t have the money to drop on new pants.

Eddie wanted to keep his dinosaurs and the one little car that had been his favorite, and of course he was keeping Mister Lion, but the rest of his old toys joined the Goodwill boxes. He just wasn’t interested in those things anymore. Wayne made a mental note to pick up a new box of crayons the next time he was at the grocery store since Eddie was very adamant about keeping all of his old drawings, and his old crayons were barely usable anymore.

Their trip to Goodwill was a successful one. Wayne had to use up a good portion of his cigarette budget for the month on a new wardrobe for Eddie, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He’d been meaning to cut back anyway.

“Why don’t you go and put your clothes away in your room?” Wayne told Eddie when they returned to the trailer.

“My room?”

“The bedroom is yours, Eds. I just have to move a few things into the other closet and change the sheets, and then it’ll be ready.”

“You don’t have to give up your room for me.”

“I know. But I want to. Figured you should have a space of your own if you’re gonna be staying here permanently.”

Eddie dropped the bags he was holding and went to give his uncle a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“No need to thank me. You deserve this.” As Wayne was moving the rest of his stuff out of the room, Eddie was drawn to one item in particular.

“You play guitar?” he asked, eyeing the old acoustic in his uncle’s hands.

“I used to. I don’t think I’ve actually played it since before you were born. I was about your age when I learned though.”

“Could you teach me?”

“Sure can. I was just gonna stick it in the closet, but you can keep it in your room if you want and you promise to be real careful with it.”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically before taking the guitar from his uncle and carrying it back into his bedroom.

The rest of Eddie’s first day back at the trailer passed by without any incident. Eddie was slowly warming up to being there again even if he still seemed cautious about what he was and wasn’t allowed to do. It wasn’t until bedtime that Wayne was certain things would be okay between them.

By then, he was exhausted from having stayed up all night and all the work he did to get the bedroom ready for him. He’d just tucked Eddie in and was getting ready to set up his own bed in the living room when he heard the bedroom door open.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asked. “Thought you were going to sleep?”

“I was,” Eddie said as he looked down at the ground. “But I was just thinking maybe you could set up your bed in my room like we used to? Just for tonight?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Wayne squeezed the fold out bed into the cramped bedroom. Without saying a word, Eddie handed his uncle the copy of The Hobbit that was sitting on the nightstand, and even though he was ready to crash, Wayne settled in and read until his nephew was softly snoring beside him just as he had so many times before.

December 1976

Wayne was not spoiling Eddie for Christmas this year. If anyone asked, he insisted he wasn’t. He was staying well within his budget for the holidays, but he was buying pretty much everything secondhand, so his money went a little further. He’d picked up a few board games and an assortment of mismatched legos from the Goodwill, and he’d managed to get a good deal on a new set of strings for the guitar. He’d even picked up the 64 pack of Crayola crayons that had a sharpener built into the box and some plain, unlined paper for him to draw on. Eddie's Christmases with his dad hadn't exactly been great ones, and he wanted to do what he could to make up for that. There was just one last thing he wanted to get.

It had all started when Eddie had spent an entire day drawing at the kitchen table. Wayne hadn't been paying much attention to him because anything that kept Eddie occupied and quiet for more than five minutes meant he could get some cleaning done around the trailer without his nephew getting underfoot or making more work for him. He loved the kid as if he were his own, but he could be a handful at times. When he went to put another load of dirty clothes in the washer and figure out what he was making for dinner, he got a good look at what Eddie had been drawing.

Wayne gathered up the papers and shuffled through them, and he was amazed by Eddie's work. They were good drawings. Not just good for a kid drawings where you could tell what they were supposed to be but they still looked clumsy. These were actually good, and they were all dragons. Different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some breathing fire, some flying, and some sleeping, but all recognizable as dragons.

"Did you draw all of these?" he asked.

Eddie nodded without looking up from his current drawing.

"And you didn't trace 'em or copy them from something or anything?"

"Nope. I just drew what I pictured."

“These are really great, Eds. Best drawings I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t know where you got all this talent from. No one in our family can draw more than a stick figure.”

Eddie was absolutely beaming from all of the praise.

“Which one is your favorite?” the boy asked.

Wayne flipped through the stack of drawings in his hand before pulling out one of a purple dragon asleep on a pile of gold coins and jewels.

“If I had to pick, it’s this one,” he said as he held up the picture. “Would you mind if I hung it on the fridge?”

“You wanna hang up my picture?”

“Of course, I do. Gotta display it like the masterpiece it is.”

After the first drawing was in its place on the fridge, Eddie wanted to hang the rest of his dragons up in his room, so Wayne carefully taped up each and every one of them exactly where Eddie told him to. The entire time, Eddie was sitting cross-legged on his bed monologuing about how cool dragons were and why they were his most favorite fantasy creature. It was then that Wayne knew he had to find a way to get his boy something dragon-related for Christmas.

The problem he was facing was that there seemed to be absolutely nothing dragon-related in all of Hawkins, and he was running out of time. He didn’t know what he was going to do until he spotted something on one of the shelves in the comic book shop.

Wayne couldn’t give Eddie as much money as his dad had been giving him to spend on comics, but every Saturday, they took a trip there after lunch and before they did their grocery shopping for the next week. Eddie was allowed to choose one comic to take home, and Wayne would let him take as long as he needed to make that decision. Usually, he’d just stand and wait with Eddie, but a box with a large red dragon on the front had piqued his interest, so he went to examine it. It didn’t take long for him to realize that it was the perfect gift for his nephew.

When Eddie ran up to him with the comic he’d chosen, Wayne told him to go wait in the truck while he paid. As soon as his nephew was out of his sight, he grabbed the box and bought it along with the comic. It was a little more than he wanted to spend, but he knew it would be worth it to see Eddie’s face when he opened it on Christmas morning.

Wayne had barely opened his eyes before Eddie was shoving a gift into his hands on Christmas morning. He’d insisted that he didn’t need anything like he had for every single Christmas of his adult life, and he had been ignored as usual. When he opened the gift bag, he was presented with four different coffee mugs.

“There’s one for this year, and one for every Christmas I missed,” Eddie said, looking very proud of himself.

“How’d you get the money to pay for these?”

“A group of kids on the playground bet me their milk money that I wouldn’t eat a worm.”

“You ate a worm?”

Eddie shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time.”

Wayne snorted and moved to ruffle a hand through the boy’s curls. “We’ve gotta work on your impulse control, kid.”

“Do you like them?” Eddie asked.

“I love ‘em. In fact, I’m gonna have my morning coffee in one of them, and I’ll make you a special Christmas hot cocoa in one, too.”

After the drinks had been passed out, Wayne pushed his bed to the side so he and Eddie could sit on the floor together with the tiny fake tree that Wayne had found at a garage sale. It wasn’t much, and it looked even tinier when the small pile of gifts for Eddie was almost the same height, but Eddie had just been excited to have a tree which was good enough for Wayne.

As Eddie opened his gifts, Wayne made sure that the one he was the most excited to give him was the last one he opened.

“Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie read off the front of the box.

“It’s a fantasy roleplaying game,” Wayne told him. “I don’t know much about it, but the guy down at the comic book shop said it’s pretty fun, and I know how much you like dragons and fantasy stuff, so I thought this could be fun. I figured you could read the manual and maybe teach me how to play? If that’s okay with you, of course.”

It was more than okay with Eddie. Wayne watched as Eddie did nothing but read the manuals and plan out a small campaign for them to play for pretty much his entire winter break. On New Year’s Eve, he sat his uncle down at their kitchen table and walked him through creating a character before diving into their fantasy adventure. Wayne tried his best to understand what was going on, and Eddie often had to remind him which die to roll and when, but the boy’s excitement and enthusiasm for the game was apparent the entire time. He never got frustrated with him for forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, and he put every bit of his dramatic, over the top personality into painting a picture of this fantasy world.

There were plenty of days where Wayne was convinced that he was doing everything wrong when it came to raising Eddie, but as he watched his nephew fall in love with his new game, he knew that he’d done at least one thing right.

May 1980

When Eddie started middle school, Wayne had decided he was old enough to take the bus home from school and be alone at the trailer until he got home from work. For the most part, this hadn’t been a bad idea, and Eddie had only almost flooded the trailer once. But, towards the end of eighth grade, there was one big hiccup.

“I messed up,” Eddie called from the bathroom the second Wayne had walked in the door.

"Messed up how?"

"Can you just come here?"

Wayne made his way back to the bathroom where he found Eddie leaning over the sink. Sitting on the edge of the sink was a pair of scissors, and there was a very obvious chunk of hair missing from the left side of his head. Considering the fact that Eddie had just told him a week before that he was planning on growing out his hair in an attempt to emulate his favorite musicians, Wayne was more than a little bit confused.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I was just minding my own business and talking to my friend Jeff about how awesome Corroded Coffin was gonna be at the talent show next week when the kid in the seat behind me smashed his gum in my hair."

"Is this the same kid who called you a freak and ripped up your notebook last month?"

"Yeah . . . I've been ignoring him like you said, but he just won't leave me alone."

Wayne had never considered beating a child before, but there was a first time for everything.

"And I'm guessing the scissors are out because you were trying to get the gum out by yourself?"

"I tried everything. But I couldn't get it out with my hands, and trying to pick it out with my comb only made it worse. And I didn't know what to do, so I figured I could just cut it out, and no one would notice. But I ended up cutting off too much, and now I look like this."

"Why didn't you wait for me to get home? I could've helped you."

"I was embarrassed," Eddie said. The boy looked like he was about ready to cry. "I don't like talking about this stuff, so I thought maybe I could do it alone, and then I wouldn't have to tell you."

Wayne sighed before squeezing past Eddie to pull his clippers out of the bathroom cabinet.

"I can fix this," he said. "It's not going to be what you want, and it's going to take awhile for your hair to grow back, but I can at least even it out and make it look like you wanted your hair to be shorter, okay?"

Eddie nodded.

"Good. Now take a seat and let me take care of you."

Eddie sat down on the edge of the toilet, and Wayne got to work. To make it easier for the clippers to do their job, Wayne started out by using the scissors to cut off Eddie's curls in chunks that he tossed aside in the sink. Once his hair was a more manageable length, Wayne turned on the clippers and started evening out the cut. It definitely wasn't what Eddie wanted, but soon enough, the boy was sporting a fresh buzz cut.

“I’m going to clean up in here, and then you can take a shower if you want. After that, meet me in the kitchen. I think you and I might need to have a talk.”

After sweeping up Eddie’s hair, Wayne headed into the kitchen and put on the water for hot chocolate. That was their routine. Whenever they had to talk about something even remotely upsetting, they did it over cups of hot cocoa in the hopes that the sweetness of the drink would soften the blow.

Eddie came out of the bathroom and took his usual seat at the kitchen table just as Wayne was finished making their drinks. He set Eddie’s mug down in front of him before taking his own seat. It was obvious to him that the boy had been crying while he was in the bathroom from his red-rimmed eyes, but he didn’t comment on it. He didn’t want to make Eddie feel worse than he clearly already did.

Wayne couldn’t get a word out before Eddie started talking.

“I don’t think I wanna do the talent show anymore,” he said as he stared into his mug.

“Why not? It’s all you’ve talked about for weeks.”

“They haven’t even heard me play yet, and I’m already getting picked on for it. What if I suck, and it gets worse?”

“So what?”

“What do you mean so what?” Eddie asked. “You just had to shave my head. I don’t want anything like this to happen ever again.”

Wayne sighed and took a sip from his mug.

“I know we don’t talk about your mama very often, but after you, music was her favorite thing in this world. When you all lived with me, there wasn’t a moment of the day that she wasn’t singing along with whatever was playing on the radio, and she might have been just about the worst singer I’ve heard in my entire life. Couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if her life depended on it, and we all teased her about it constantly. But that didn’t stop her from singing her heart out whenever she heard her favorite songs.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“People around here are small-minded, and they’re raising their children to be a bunch of small-minded idiots. No matter what you do, there’s always going to be someone who’s gonna try to make you feel small. That’s just the way life is. And if you stop yourself from doing the things you love just because someone else is making fun of you for it, you’re only letting the bullies win. You’ve gotta be a bigger and louder version of yourself and not let them affect you.

“You are so much like your mama in a lot of ways. Practically a little clone of her at times. Especially when you smile. But the biggest difference that I can see is that you have talent. I may not understand the kind of music you like, but I can tell when something sounds good. I hear you practicing, and you’ve got a gift. I won’t lie to you and pretend that everyone is going to love your performance or that the bullies will magically disappear, but what I can tell you is that it would be a damn shame if you didn’t share your gift with the world just because some little shit stain on your bus clearly wasn’t raised right.”

Wayne got up from the table to put his mug in the sink, but he’d barely taken a step before Eddie had jumped up and wrapped his arms around his uncle in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Wayne replied as he hugged him back. “I probably don’t say this enough, but I hope you know that I love you, and I’m always going to be in your corner.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“Good. And if you have any more trouble on that bus of yours, you let me know, and I’ll kick that little punk’s butt. No one is gonna get away with treating my boy like crap.”

Eddie snorted as he pulled away from his uncle.

“I’m sure he’ll be terrified. You’re basically the least intimidating person I know.”

“Okay, smart ass. I’m plenty intimidating.”

“You’re about as scary as a teddy bear.”

It was Wayne’s turn to laugh.

A few weeks later, when Father’s Day rolled around, Wayne woke up to a gift and a homemade card waiting for him next to the coffee maker. He opened the card first, and printed in Eddie’s messy scrawl, it read:

I feel like this is probably long overdue, and I should have been honoring you today for at least a few years now. You’ve been more of a dad to me than I ever remember mine being, and I feel like I don’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me enough. So thanks for always being there. Happy Father’s Day from your boy.

Feeling a little choked up, Wayne pulled the gift towards himself next. It was wrapped up in the comics from the day before’s newspaper with way too much tape. He knew what it would be before he'd even unwrapped it, but he was always happy to see whatever mug Eddie had picked out for him. This one was dark green and patterned with sunflowers, and he knew that it was going to become one of his new favorites immediately if only because of the circumstances in which he received it.

March 1986

Wayne Munson was tired. Tired of people judging Eddie without really knowing him, tired of people not listening to him, and tired of people defacing his missing posters instead of actually helping him look. He was tired of having to keep his guard up when anyone tried to talk to him because he didn’t want to lose his temper and attack someone for spouting vile nonsense at him, and he was tired of spending every waking moment - and most of his sleeping ones - worrying about Eddie. Tired of sleeping in the high school surrounded by people who had actively been hunting down his boy to do who knows what to him. He was just tired.

So, when Dustin Henderson came up to him and gave him the news that Eddie was gone, he could feel himself crumbling from the inside out. At first, he didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true. His boy was out there somewhere and hiding until someone could find concrete evidence that cleared his name. He had to be. But the guitar pick necklace that Dustin held out to him and the apparent pain plastered across the kid’s face had sealed it. His boy was dead, and he was never going to see him again.

Wayne had never been one to outwardly express his emotions. He tended to keep things tucked away until he could have a moment in private, and he certainly never cried in public. But hearing the way that Dustin spoke so fondly about Eddie broke him. Because Dustin was saying everything that he already knew to be true. If Hawkins had really taken the time to get to know his boy, they all would have been able to look past his outer appearance, and they would have loved him just as much as Wayne did. He was certain of it. He just never thought he’d hear someone else say it.

Shortly after he spoke to Dustin, Wayne and the other trailer park residents were given the all clear to go back to their trailers and gather their things. The relief workers had marked it as safe for them to enter briefly, but no one was going to be allowed to stay there for very long. They were instructed to gather up anything important and head back to their temporary housing at the school as soon as possible. Eventually, they’d be able to come back and grab the rest of their things when more permanent housing was found for them, but for now, they were limited in how much they could take.

Wayne didn’t know how much of his stuff was going to be worth saving. Frankly, he was surprised that his trailer had even been left standing when he saw the fault line that ran through what had once been his living room. Out of an abundance of caution, he had entered through the door down near the bedroom instead of the main entrance. He moved quickly, shoving as many of his clothes in his bag as he could. He’d much rather wear his own stuff than the donations that people brought into the school.

After that, he grabbed the sentimental things. For once, he was thankful that he didn’t keep things in conventional places because that meant that all of his photo albums were safe. The notebooks full of Eddie’s childhood drawings and his favorite dragon picture were safe. Eddie’s beloved stuffed lion was safe. All of these were carefully added to his bag. But the one thing he couldn’t take was what hurt the most to leave behind.

He’d known the second that he saw the fault line running through his home that his mugs wouldn’t have made it. What was left of his living room display was now smashed on the floor, and he could tell just from the look of it that there was nothing he could save. He knew it was stupid for him to be so upset about them. They were just a bunch of mugs and nobody else would find them important. Anybody else wouldn’t give them a second thought because they could be replaced. 

But they were important to Wayne. Those mugs tied him to better times with people he would never be able to see again. He could buy a new mug, but he couldn’t buy the mugs that Linda had stolen from her parents for him, he couldn’t buy the mugs that Eddie had eaten a worm to pay for, and he couldn’t buy the mug that Eddie gave him the first time he recognized him on Father’s Day. He couldn’t buy back the happiness that looking at those mugs and remembering their stories gave him. That was gone forever.

He didn’t want to set himself up for even more disappointment, but a part of him needed to know if the mugs that he stored in the cabinet had made it through the earthquake. Those were the ones that he used the most often. His favorites. He would be heartbroken if they were all destroyed, but he needed that closure.

When he opened the cabinet above the coffee maker, he was met with a shelf covered with the broken pieces of his mugs that had smashed against each other in the enclosed space. He knew not to get his hopes up, but it was still a painful sight to see.

But, pushed into the very back corner of the cabinet, there was one mug that appeared to still be intact. He carefully pulled it out of the debris to inspect it. Sporting a new chip on the handle, the mug featured the phrase “World’s Best Uncle” hand-painted on the side along with a bright blue baby handprint. The mug from Eddie’s first Christmas.

As he carefully wrapped the mug in a sheet of newspaper that was sitting on the floor underneath the kitchen table, Wayne felt himself choking back tears for the second time that day. It wasn’t his whole collection, but at least it was something. After all, he was only one man. He always said he didn’t need more than one mug.

[munsons-hellfire]

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

SUMMARY: You moved back to Hawkins for a fresh start, but meeting your brothers biker gang takes things for an interesting loop especially when your trying to escape the past you want to leave behind.

PAIRINGS: Biker!Eddie Munson x Teacher!Fem!Reader

PART 1 IN THE DARK PARADISE SERIES

CONTENT WARNINGS: SFW, Biker!Eddie Munson, Teacher!Reader, no use of y/n, modern take (thought a modern setting best fit the plot), implied pet names (sweetheart, princess), bug is used as a name, she her pronouns but barley used, Reader is 24 (turning 25 soon), Eddie is 26, post-upside down, vecna is defeated (will be mentioned in later parts)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so this is actually for sure my first series here on Tumblr. I am looking forward to the later parts. I got this idea when I was reading a short story about a biker and a girl. I then got a thought about Eddie as a biker and well I shared it with funsonmunson-again. I hadn't seen anything with this type of idea but I definitely thought it would be cool to write. I can't wait to build the relationship between Eddie and Reader as I get further through the series. Please let me know what you think and what you might want to see as we get further into it. This is also a modern take because I when I pictured it I just saw it taking place in our time. The canon events of the show do happen but they defeat Vecna and close all the gates. The other members of the show will be in this series, most will come in later on. Also I decided to go with a teacher!reader because my mom herself is a teacher and I think they are important so I wanted a chance to write something where the reader was a teacher.

WORD COUNT: 3.2K Words

THE DARK PARADISE SERIES MASTERLIST

Hawkins Indiana had always been your home since you could remember. But when your parents divorced and your mom moved out of the state you and your brother had to go live with your mom. Eventually your brother moved back with your father and you visited them whenever you were allowed too.

Now heading into adulthood you were standing in front of the apartment you had just rented out. It would be your home for the next few months, at least that's what you hoped. Things had gone sideways with your job back home, not to mention you weren't a fan of your new stepdad your mother had married.

The man wasn't the nicest man in the world but more so to you. He made your life a living hell and you couldn't live with him or your mother anymore, even when considering the fact that she wouldn't put her foot down. In hindsight you probably should've just moved back in with your dad and brother long before your mother had married your step father.

You could see the red flags that so clearly flew around his face but in the beginning you simply wanted to ignore it because you were going to school to be a teacher. Now that you had graduated with your masters degree there was nothing really holding you back and that included your mother.

When you FaceTimed with your older brother after graduating and told him that you had saved enough money up, that you wanted to move out of your mothers house, that you wanted to leave everything you had in New York and come back to Indiana where they lived. And your brother had the most simplistic answer to it all.

"Then if that's what your heart and mind is telling you, then come back to Hawkins. I wouldn't mind having my sister by my side and dad would love to see you again."

After Sam had mentioned those words to you, you gave him a bright smile and a quick nod. That night you began packing your belongings. You and your brother had discussed where you could live, he had pointed out the safest apartments in Hawkins. You filled up your car until none of your personal belongings were left in your mothers house.

The downside to starting over meant that you had to get new furniture, but you were lucky considering you had saved enough money for an apartment and new things as well. You had planned this out well before you brought it up to Sam. Without saying goodbye to your mother or step father you left New York and drove back home.

It took you 11 hours to drive from New York to Indiana. You had made a few stops along the way but it hadn't impacted your time on the road much. You had already rented out an apartment that wasn't far from where your brother and dad lived. They still lived with each other so it would make it easier if you wanted to do something with them.

Along the drive down to Hawkins your brother had called you and told you that a few of his friends would be helping you move your boxes from your car into your apartment. And then they would help with anything heavier once it was bought. For the first few nights you would be sleeping on an air mattress which didn't really bother you.

It would do until you could go out and get a bed. You had arrived just before nightfall, the sun was setting in the distance. It made a pretty view and one that you didn't know you missed until you moved back to Hawkins. You had just gotten your key to your apartment and were waiting for brother and dad to arrive along with a few of Sam's friends.

Your dad was actually the first to arrive, he pulled his truck up next to your four door Sedan. It was blue, one of your top three favorite colors. Looking down at your phone you saw a text from Sam saying that they would be there shortly. Placing your phone in the back of your pants pocket you walked towards your dad's truck as he climbed out and shut the door.

"There's my sweet baby!" Your dad said excitedly, with the brightest happiest smile plastered onto his lips.

"Hi, dad!" You spoke. Soon enough his arms were encased around your body as he pulled you in for a tight hug, one that you hadn't felt in a few years. "I missed you." You mumbled into his chest, with your eyes closed.

"Aw, I missed you too, princess." Your dad had no shame in calling you any kind of pet name. But you had and always would be his little princess. "I'm glad you're here now."

"Me too, dad." You pulled back from the hug and stared up at your father. He was still holding the smile on his lips as he continued to look down at you.

"How's your mother doing?" Allen questioned, his face had become serious but it was clear to you that sometimes it still hurt to talk about his ex-wife. He thought your mother was the love of his life and he thought he was hers. Though to you it seemed that your mother never really loved your father and she was just taking him along for the joy ride because they had Sam and then 2 years later had you.

"She's fine, she's with her boy toy. They're so perfect for each other it's disgusting. I had to get out of there before things got worse."

Your dad raised an eyebrow at the way you had mentioned that last sentence. "He didn't try to hurt you or anything like that did he?"

"No, god, no. He was just an ass who only cared about mom and wanted to make my life a living hell because I was a 24 year old still living with her mother. I'm just happy that I'll be starting out year 25 in my own apartment with a teaching job and I'll be closer to my dad and brother again." You tried your hardest to smile, but you knew your dad was picking up on the pain that was leaving your voice.

"If there's one thing in life I regret its that I didn't fight hard enough to get custody over you so you could live with your brother and I."

"It's okay, dad. Mom didn't want the responsibility of taking care of Sam because he was a troublemaker and difficult for her to work with. Apparently I was just easy for her."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short because your mother did. I'm so proud of the things you've accomplished in this past year alone and I can't wait to see what you'll do in the future, and I can't wait to see the impact you'll have in those kids' lives when you start teaching."

"Thank you dad." You smiled again, in the distance bikes could be heard which meant that your brother was now here. It was no secret that your brother was part of a biker club, you didn't have anything negative to say about it simply because the one he was a part of did a lot of good things not only for the community in Hawkins but surrounding communities as well.

"Your brother's here, let's get moving." Your dad walked towards your car and opened up your back door to start with that. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out you looked down to see a contact that you were trying to avoid at all cost and it wasn't your mother. After you find a teaching position you planned to get a new phone number so your ex could stop calling you.

You had gone the distance and blocked her from all social media that you did have, but you weren't too worried about it considering you felt you didn't have time to be on it. But you weren't so sure that would be enough of a cause for her to stop trying to contact you. She seemed to be a force to be reckoned with and she made your life far worse than the things your step father had said to you.

You only wished you had seen just who she truly was before it had gone down the wrong path. But you knew that maybe just maybe Hawkins could truly be the fresh start that you desperately needed. You looked away from your phone seeing your brother and a few of his friends pulling up next to your father's truck. Putting on a tight lipped smile you locked your phone and shoved it back in your pocket.

"Sam." You called out walking over to him as he pulled his helmet off his head. His brown hair fell from the helmet and you could instantly see the smile that fell onto his lips and how his eyes brightened when you called his name. He climbed off his bike and walked over to you pulling you in for a hug.

"I missed you so much, Bug." Sam said, you groaned at the nickname. Sam was never not going to call you Bug. When you were little you went through a very long phase and were obsessed with all kinds of bugs and had a lot of knowledge on them. You still to this day talk about certain bugs. But Sam started calling you Bug one day and never dropped it. Even sometimes the nickname would slip from your father's lips and your mother's lips.

"I missed you too," you pulled back from the hug as two of his friends walked over to you.

"I'd like you to meet some friends of mine. This is Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson. Guys this is my sister, I like to call her Bug so I am giving you permission to call her that too." Sam smirked at you while you rolled your eyes.

"It's nice to finally meet you, I'm Steve. Sam here wouldn't shut up about his little sister coming back home." Steve said, as he shook your hand. You took in Steve's look, his hair was great, far better than what you had seen in New York. He had on tight jeans, with a polo shirt (which kind of shocked you to say the least), and he topped it off with a leather jacket, covered for the most part in patches.

On the front right side of the jacket rested the name of the club they were in. "The Wolves", seemed to fight the look they all had going on. Your brother talked about his biker club as much as you would let him so you knew most of the members without having to meet them.

"Oh, I'm sure. He's probably more excited about me being here than I am." You chuckled afterwards, then your eyes landed on the tall curly haired man who you assumed was Eddie Munson.

You were already swooning over the way his hair was styled, the bangs that rested over his forehead really seemed to fit his personality. Well, at least whatever you could pick up just from looking at him. After meeting your ex-girlfriend and learning more about her you started to get better at reading people which had been part of the reason why you started to see things you didn't see before you started dating.

Eddie was wearing ripped jeans that went with the black boots he had on his feet. Your eyes drifted to his shirt to see that he had been wearing a slightly worn out Metallica shirt. Like Steve he had been wearing a leather jacket as well. But most of the patches he had on his were on the denim jacket that rested over the leather jacket. The club logo rested on the right side as well and it was surrounded by band patches and pins.

It really helped complete his look and you couldn't keep your eyes off Eddie. Something he smirked at because he had noticed your face. Finally your hand found its way to Eddie's and the two of you shook hands. He hadn't said anything to you yet, but you were sure you felt a jolt of electricity run through your hand. And for a moment you were almost certain that he had felt the same thing, especially when you had looked into his soft brown eyes.

"It's very nice to meet you, Bug." Eddie said, with a gentle smile following behind his words.

"Come on, boys, we don't got all night." Allen called out to the three.

You and Eddie removed your hands from each other. You walked back towards your car, and opened the door. Just as you started to reach for one of your boxes you had packed your phone buzzed again in your pocket. Only this time it was a simple buzz indicating that you had received a text message from someone.

With an exhale you let go of the box holding it up by your leg. Eddie watched from the other side of your car as you pulled your phone out to look at who had texted you. You thought that maybe there was a chance it would be your mom asking where you had gone. As you unlocked your phone, you felt your blood run cold when you stared directly at the message.

It read, "I'm going to find you, and you're coming back home with me." You had an annoyed look on your face that mixed with anger and fear. Eddie was still staring at you while you looked down at the phone, he could tell just by your posture and facial expression that something was off. You knew that most likely you were going to have to take this to court eventually. Which is something you didn't want to do, in all honesty that was the last thing you wanted.

"Hey, you okay?" Eddie's voice ran through your ears and it suddenly felt comforting to hear his voice again. You looked up from your phone and placed your eyes on him as he held onto one of your boxes. Somewhere in between he had managed to pull his curly locks back into a low bun so his hair was out of the way.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You knew it was a lie because you were in fact not okay. But you didn't feel as though you could tell him let alone your brother or dad. The idea of telling anyone what was actually going on made you feel like you were being a burden to them. You didn't want to bother them with your problems because you knew you could solve them on your own.

Your brother and father couldn't know the real reason you had decided to up and leave your mother's house in the middle of the night. Sure you didn't like the way they talked to you but that was just a cover up for the simple fact that you were trying to escape another crazy ex, only this time it was your ex-girlfriend. She had made things a lot worse for you and more complicated than you wanted them to be.

Your ex was trying to make it clear to you that you were soulmates, but you disagreed with her time and time again. You weren't looking to settle down not yet anyway. You liked the idea of being in a relationship to a certain extent. Most of your relationships didn't last longer than 6 months at most. Though you had a thought that if something happened between you and Eddie he was going to be the one you married.

Well that's what you hoped for deep deep down. Eddie took notice once again of how lost in thought you had gotten. He wondered if this was an often occurrence or if it only happened in stressful situations like this one where you moved across the country. The metalhead could tell that something was definitely off, and it seemed whatever it was had to do with this move.

Eddie was going to make it his top priority that he figure out what it was that made you move back to your hometown, what made you decide to leave the city and head to a quiet town. He also knew one thing for certain, and it was that the second he laid his eyes on you that he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe from the horrors of the world; whatever they may be.

When Sam started talking about how you were thinking of moving back to Hawkins to be close to your dad and him, Eddie couldn't help but start to form a crush on you. The pictures that Sam had shown to him just didn't do enough justice. Your hair was longer than what it had been in the picture that had been taken. You had beautiful eyes that he felt that he could get lost in no matter what time of day.

And he thought that you looked super adorable in any type of clothes you'd wear. Right now you had jeans, and a pain blue t-shirt on, with a jacket covering your arms. You were also sporting a red pair of converse that looked a little to beat, like they had seen a lot of years. But the outfit looked really good on you. The only thing that Eddie really wanted to do was rip it off so he could see all of you.

Seeing you here now in front of him on the other side of your car, he knew there was no chance he'd be able to control himself around you. With a heavy sigh you shoved your phone back into your pocket and grabbed a hold of the box that rested on your leg. Before taking a step away from the car towards the apartment you stared up at it.

"I'm okay, I'll be okay. She can't do anything to me." You whispered to yourself, though Eddie had definitely heard you. It was enough for him to know that he was for sure going to keep you safe. He would just have to get more intel about why you were here and who you were running from so he could better prepare himself.

Eddie caught up with you as you walked towards your new apartment. You dreaded the future because of what could happen if your ex found where you had gone. But you also looked forward to it, you hoped Eddie might become something more than just your brother's friend. You already knew there was something about him that you liked and it wasn't because he was in the Wolves with your brother.

It had something to do with the spark that you had felt shoot through your hands. You weren't one to believe in all that lovey dovey crap but you could see something with Eddie, whether it ended up in a bad place or it ended up in a good place. You internally groaned knowing very well that this next year could either make or break you.

You weren't looking forward to all the possible outcomes of what could or might not happen. You only hoped that someone out there was watching over you. That there was someone out there helping to guide you in the direction you needed to go.

TAGS: @funsonmunson-again @inhumanssxx

[agattthaa]

All yours

Paring: Cassiel/Audrey

Word count: 1.749

Rating: E

TW: explicit sex

Summary: Audrey was finally coming back home now that Cassiel was there.

Alternative scen of what should've happened on Audrey’s apartment.

Tagging: @rc-catalog

-Yes. Yes, let's go home.

Cassiel’s eyes immediately went wild. He thought it would've been an impossible task to convince her to follow him. Because it always was. Audrey never complied with anything that he wanted, as if she did everything only to get a reaction out of him, only to annoy him, only to spite him. So this reaction was the last thing he was expecting of her, making him jump up from the small chair and following her out of the kitchen.

To where, he only noticed after the queen-sized bed came into view, on it’s side, stood Audrey, with a prideful smile on her face and her hands on her hips. Cassiel immediately felt like a prey that just fell into it’s trap as the predator kept her eyes into him, perhaps waiting for him to try and run from her, but he only stepped forward until he was only one step away from her, her smile only got more dangerous.

-Did you miss me that much that you can’t leave me alone for a second?

He could say that he needed to protect her, or just that he just came to help her carry her bags, but he didn’t want to. Not this time. Not after what happened just a couple of weeks ago. Not after he almost lost her without not even knowing her touch or her taste or if her feelings ran as deeply as his.

He only stepped forward once again, so close to her, but not close enough.

He didn’t think they could ever be close enough.

-I missed you.

There was no other way to describe her smile besides wicked. Both her hands went to hug him by the neck, her nose rubbing against his as she whispered on his lips.

-Show me how much.

His hands slowly climbed up to her face, pulling her into his kiss. Too soft, too slow, too calm for them who were like the lighting and a thunder, loud, dangerous and incapable of being apart from each other.

Even the licks and bites on each other’s lips were too soft, almost carefully and completely filled with affection. His touch, so careful and soft on her face that it was almost like he was scared of her fading if his touch was too strong, but she didn’t mind, only hugging his neck closer, pulling him into her embrace further, harder, pulling back to look into his eyes.

-I won’t break.

She slowly removed his hands from her face, placing them on her hips and he simply watched her, with red tarnishing her cheeks and red tarnishing her lips, completely wet and smudged from his kiss. He looked into her eyes again, searching for the fear she admitted only minutes before, and yet the only thing he found was the same longing that his own carried. Longing for him.

He kissed her again.

This time stronger, rougher. Squeezing her hips and biting her lips hungrily, as if her taste was more intoxicating than any wine and more necessary to live than oxygen.

And she only bit back, pulling him down and so close to her that he was almost losing balance before he started pulling them towards the bed, stopping as soon as her knees hitted the furniture, tugging her black and red dress down and making her smile against his lips, pulling apart from him to take the dress out herself. And he watched her.

He watched her throwing her dress away in some corner of the room. He watched as she started opening the buttons of his shirt. He watched her face becoming redder as she felt his gaze on every single curve of her body, putting his hands back on her waist and gently laying her down on the bed, throwing his shirt out in the same direction of her dress and watching her.

And he could spend the rest of the night, the rest of his life, simply watching her. The red of the small pieces of lace that still covered her almost matched the shade on her face as his hands slowly moved to raise her back just enough for him to unclasp the piece and slowly take it out of her body.

And then, he watched even more.

Seeing her become shy under his eyes was such a rare sight, the red on her cheeks making her eyes shine even brighter as they looked deeply into Cassiel’s, as if demanding him to do something other than watch. As if ordering him to touch, to take, to claim.

To touch her. To take her. To claim her.

And he could never say no to that order.

So he climbed over her, immediately claiming back her lips to his as one hand held his weight and the other went to massage her breasts, drinking up her sighs like they were the sweetest and rarest honey, as if he pulled away from her for even a single second, she would just vanish.

And she just pulled him closer, as if that proximity was not enough, as if she needed him to let go of that hand and just hold her completely. Her hands explored his unclothed back as his hand traveled down her body and he started kissing her neck.

He should take his time, he should kiss all over her body, he should explore every single curve of her skin, but her on hand covered his, forcing him to feel how desperate she already was for him even over the underwear that still covered her and looking deeply into his eyes when he pulled away from her neck.

And once again, it was clear that he was nothing else but her prey. Nothing else but a mere servant. Not existing for anything other than to comply with whatever she wanted, whatever she desired, without the need for her order. He only needed to listen to her eyes. To the blue shade on them that made him capable of moving mountains and pounding them into the ground again. The light on them that made him willing to do anything as long as those eyes were set on him.

-We are going back home. -He whispered against her ear, gently biting her lobe and quickly pulling her underwear to the side, immediately inserting two fingers inside of her and rubbed his rough thumb against her clit. Her back arching so strongly that her only reaction other than letting out a long moan was to hug him strongly. He kept kissing her neck, gently licking any stop that he let a bite on as they quickly became red. -Then I'll take you to your real room, the one in our home, and there I'll take an entire day and night just kissing you. But now… Now I'll do exactly what you want, Audrey. Tell me what you want from me.

His face pulled away from her neck to look into her eyes once again. Now they shined even more, as glassy as her lips that were still red and swollen for his kiss. No type of art could ever compare to the sight of her at that moment. She was more. More impactating. More beautiful. More special. Art was supposed for all eyes, but the sight of her, that he would kill and die for it to always be for his eyes only.

-Ta… ke me. Mak… e me… yours…

He kissed her again. Strong. Hungry. Bruising. Wanting to devour her lips and her words so that when he died they would both be engraved into his bones.

He smiled against her lips as she sloppily tried to open his pants, forcing himself to pull away from her when she whined his name and pleas for more against his lips.

Slowly and almost carefully, his took his fingers from her core, almost putting them back when she cried for the lack of stimulus and licked his fingers that were just inside of her clean, right in front of her face, smiling as she watched and lifting himself from her, slowly taking down her remaining underwear and leaving a soft kiss on her thigh. Soon, soon, he would have his head between those two thighs as he devoured her. But now he pulled his pants and underwear down watching as she devoured him with her eyes.

There was no way he could ever deny her of anything and he feared what she would do when she figured that out.

He pressed himself just outside her entrance before returning his lips to her neck again, kissing it before raising his head to whisper in her ear.

-You are mine.

He entered her completely on one thrust, making her let out a loud cry as he held her hip down with one hand. Her walls clenched all around him, as demanding as the rest of her. So delicate and delicious and demanding. Forcing him to do more. Faster, stronger, deep. Forcing him to take everything. To prove to her that his words were true. That he was who she belonged to now and that she was the one he belonged to ever since the first time her eyes met his.

His hand had left her hips and now his thumb got back to it teasing. Pressing and rubbing against her clit and making her whine and moan even stronger. Her nails were now the same shade of her cheeks and neck as they deeply pressed against his back, taking his blood as she had already taken everything else from him. Like every single part of him only existed to belong to her.

He thrusted deeper inside of her as her walls clenched around him. His kisses on her neck were completely sloppy now and the only thing that she did was let out cries of yesses and thrust her hips to his, faster, deeper. Letting out a long cry as she completely clenched herself around him and her entire word became white.

He didn't take long to follow her. Her walls complete squeezing him and taking him as he let go, ridding them both out of their high and laying down on her side as took all his remaining strength to not fall over her and take her into his arms.

He could feel her smile as she placed a kiss on his neck, only hugging her close as he whispered in her ears.

-And I'm all yours.