#How do you an oreo cookie

[familyofpaladins]

#submission #I have polls now but this is the poll I came up with when my dear friend rey tried to gift me a poll #(Which I couldnt edit until now lol) #So I am using their gifted poll :3 #Polls #Tumblr poll #Oreo cookies #How do you an oreo cookie #Genuinely curious as to how people eat their cookies #THANK YOU REY FOR THE POLL

[jinxthejubilee]

While we're on the topic of sinning...

#tumblr poll #poll #oreos #how do you eat this? #oreo cookies #oreo #cookies #stupid questions #debate #sinning

[atrirose]

∿ FIRST KISSES ft. enha

moonlight in a quite garden. that’s her beauty

synopsis : enhypen first kisses with you

warning : none just kisses. ✷ sfw fluff ?! m.list

seiu: idk if i did this justice but thanks for the request.

HESSEUNG 미소

he wasn’t the one to have unplanned confessions or kisses, he needs to make everything perfect so yeah your first kiss with him was in his kitchen, planned out by yours truly, he was cooking your favorite dish as he calls you “yn can you check if it’s good” and you go to check without know that the checking would be him kissing you “was it good?” he said winking. kisses with heeseung were slow and mellow.

JAY 너의

“you got cake on your lips” he said, you have been sitting in the cafe with your boyfriend, you have been dating for a week had suggested, it was for studying and you were doing just that or at least trying, it was impossible to study when you got this hot dude that is your boyfriend apparently staring at you like he is about to devour you “oh i’m sorry” before you could wipe it he was there kissing you, he smelled so nice, he was so gentle, a involuntary pout took over your face as he pulled away “you know yn, you can be at ease we are dating after all” and just like that your first kisses was gone, to the right person of course. kisses with jay were intimate.

JAKE 남친

it was an accident, just an accident, a stupid mistake “you look awful jake” he didn’t, he looked a love struck loser at the most “awfully kissed by my bestie” he said smiling. he asked for it, said your lipgloss looked so good, and before you could say thank you, he was already there kissing you, now you stood with him in the hall with no lipgloss on and his lip which were glossed “we should totally be kissing buddies” he said taking your hand as walked with him dumbfounded. did he like you? did you like him? should you wear the lip gloss more often?. kisses with jake were exciting.

SUNGHOON 바다

nothing could be done now huh? “so you don’t get pregnant if you kiss” your five year old sister asked your boyfriend he seems to be enjoying her questions a lot “no you don’t get pregnant with just kissing” he said chuckling to himself “so if you kissed her, she wouldn’t make me an aunt, because i was super scared so i told her not to kiss you” your sister said pointing at you and you just wanted to disappear “really? you said that, that’s why she hasn’t kissed me at all” sunghoon said with a fake pout that made your sister worried “oh no i didn’t mean that, don’t be sad, i will tell her to kiss you, let me go and get you some oreos” she said getting up and running to the pantry “so this is why you have been ignoring my kisses” he said as he pulled you in “no that’s not the reason! i was just you know awkward” he pulled you closer for a kiss, he smelled so good, like peaches and cream. “there is no need to be awkward i’m yours afterall” and just like that park sunghoon has once again made you melt into a puddle as he laughed “i brought cookies, sorry oreos are over” your sister came running “thank you” sunghoon said taking the cookies from her. thank god she came late. kisses with sunghoon were magical.

SUNOO 별

he looked so happy “it was just a kiss sunoo” and then suddenly a pout took over “it’s not just a kiss, it was yours as well as mine first kiss” he said shaking you as he explained this, “how do you know it’s my first kiss too” you said crossing your arms at your new boyfriend “i know that because no one would kiss you other than me ouch” you smacked his arms “i made sure you dated no one since the day we met” it’s been 5 years since you met in middle school “i made sure i was the first to confess, first kiss and your first husband” you smiled at his rambles, he is quite literally the biggest dork. kisses with sunoo were playful.

JUNGWON 꿀

the sun was out and hot, the ac in your best friend’s room blowing cold air, his hands on your hair. it was just so different, the way he kissed you, you always thought jungwon was your friend, someone you would introduce to your kids as their sassy uncle but here he was kissing you “i’m sorry i love you and if you do like someone else i still wanted to kiss you first and last time” he said pulling back and brushing your hair out of your face “if you really wanted to kiss me so bad you could have just said jungwon” you smiled laying on his shoulder, he didn’t need answers yet, you didn’t want to ask questions just yet. everything was perfect. kisses with jungwon were enchanting.

NIKI 그의

it was not something surprising, you both know that your glances on niki were different, you weren’t the same 10 year old bsf walking with hands intertwined. it was different, your palms in his hands were turning sweaty but he didn’t let go “so niki i want something—” niki held your hands tightly as if he was scared to let go “yn let me kiss you” there was this small moment before he lowered his head down, soft lips met yours, it wasn’t the best kiss ever but it made your stomach all mushy and your cheeks red “you suck at kissing” you said hitting him on his chest “i saw it in movies- it’s done like this, how would you know” he said hiding his face in his hoodie “yn we should never do that again” did you just get rejected before you confessed “because if we do i would fall heads over heels for that stupid smile you got on” he said taking your hands in his as he starts walking. kisses with niki were like new beginnings.

#enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #jake x reader #niki x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo imagines #sunghoon imagines #park jay imagines #sim jake imagine #jungwon imagines #niki imagines #niki scenarios #jungwon scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #heeseung scenarios #enhypen #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon fluff #yang jungwon #niki fluff

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #my fic writing #fan fic stuff #fic wip #ficlet #rock star eddie munson #baker steve harrington #dungeons and dragons

[luveline]

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫  

part one | part two

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. now friends, you, eddie and junie take a trip to the city. queue oreos with double the cream, a sock related mishap, a display of strength, storybooks, matching pajamas, a velveteen rabbit and a tray of cupcakes to eat on the drive home [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, eddie’s mom implied to have passed away, mention of past falsely presumed self-harm (not graphic, just baby eddie scratching a rash and wayne worrying), hair tourniquet + intense panic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie doesn't mean to come knocking. He's staring at the ceiling with an open tray of Oreos on his chest, chewing through the boredom of a Monday evening and the pain of an aching back when he thinks of you and Junie. 

Toddlers like cookies, right?

He shoves his socked feet into poorly laced converse and turns out all the lights as he leaves. The door slams shut behind him, a rattling of metal ringing into the crisp night while he takes his steps two at a time. 

He starts up the street to your trailer and slows as your home comes into view. The lights are on, the curtains open. You stand in the middle of the room with your eyes closed, stretching to one side with your arms held high above your head. He can see the moment your back pops, see the tension of the day slip away just slightly. The exposed stretch of your tummy shines in the light.

You say something to Junie. He decides to stop acting like a stalker and bumps up your steps, hesitating at the door with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

What the fuck was he going to say? Hey, guys, I brought a half-eaten tray of cookies. Um. Because I missed you both? Sorry if that's weird? 

"What kind of loser…" he scathes. He doesn't finish, bringing his hand to the door and knocking with a haphazard explanation waiting on the tip of his tongue. 

You open the door a short few seconds later. You smile wide, wide enough to open the yawning gap in his chest all over again. Tonight when he goes home he'll have to close it like he has to so often lately after seeing you. Pretend his feelings for you – whatever they are – are smaller, less terrifying. 

"Eddie," you say, and the gap stretches with how you say it, fond and warm and breezy. "Hey, where's your jacket? It's too cold to walk over here without one." 

He doesn't have to explain himself at all, as it turns out. You open the door and step aside to let him past. 

He grins at you. "Thought I'd brave the great outdoors without any armour." 

You nod like it isn't all nonsense to you and maybe it isn't, maybe being friends with him is clueing you in to all his fantastical lingo. He likes you more for it either way, especially when you say, "You need a healing potion. It's freezing."  

You're embarrassed at your attempt. Eddie can't believe how cute you are, lost for words and flailing. His chest warms with affection.

Junie saves you both, whizzing down out of the nest of pillows where she'd been buried on the couch and across the room with surprising speed and accuracy, barrelling for his knees. He grins as she wraps herself around them and starts talking. 

It's mostly unintelligible until she says, "Hi! Hi, Eddie!" 

He hugs her back with his hand. "Hi, Junie. Good evening." 

"Good," she manages in return. She's all but mastered good morning and afternoon but evening continues to elude her. 

"What were you watching? Your Muppet Babies?" He looks at the screen to find Kermit, the green frog, singing a song. "Been doing some singing practice for the band?" 

"You want coffee?" you ask. Aforementioned healing potion. "I have decaf." 

"I brought cookies." 

"Warm milk it is," you declare, disappearing behind one of the kitchen cabinets. 

Your bravado makes him laugh. 

He finds his attention stolen once again by your lovely daughter when she complains, glaring up at him fiercely and coveting his hand. He balances the Oreos on your table by the door and offers her both, naked of their usual rings bar one. 

Junie drags him over to her pillows and tries to climb back up. She refuses to let go of his hand, making it an insurmountable feat. Eddie awes at her efforts and helps her back into the nest, hands closing around her small waist and lifting. 

He drops her into the pillows with just enough roughness to garner a laugh. "Sorry, my hands slipped. Hey, what's going on here, junebug? This isn't your usual hangout." 

"I felt bad because she's always on the floor," you call from the kitchen. He can see your hands and your torso through the gap of countertop and cabinets. You pour milk into a pan on the stovetop and tap your fingers against the handle frenetically. He wonders if you're anxious about something. 

Junie whines until Eddie sits next to her. As soon as he's situated she takes his hand again insistently and turns her attention to the television. He rubs the soft, small back of her hand with a less soft thumb and peers down the way at you. 

"She loves the floor,” he says.

"I know," you mumble ruefully. A tad theatric. He must be rubbing off on you. "I had to bribe her into sitting on the couch." 

"Yeah? What's the tab?" 

"A few dozen kisses and all the pillows from my bed." 

"Shame it wasn't half a tray of cookies." 

"I think those might help me out." 

After you've poured the milk into two tall glasses, you admit to him in a smaller voice that you're not sure if Junie likes Oreos. 

"'Cos they're bitter?" he asks. 

Milk in hand, you sit in the free seat next to Eddie and try not to sound as embarrassed as he knows you're feeling when you say, "She's never had them." 

"I'll bring chocolate chip next time." 

You shake your head vehemently. "You don't have to bring anything, ever." 

"I like sugar." 

You smile at him like you know he's trying to make you feel better, a touch shame-faced. He smiles at you in return and hopes it shows how much it doesn't matter – bringing snacks with him when he visits is hardly a generosity. You're friends. 

He keeps trying to have that conversation with you, about sharing and money and all that terrible, embarrassing hardship that isn't embarrassing whatsoever but the words taste like chalk in his mouth.

Instead, he offers the hand that hasn't been stolen by Junie to you for a glass of milk. "One of those for me?" 

You pass it to him. 

"Why'd you feel bad? You're not forcing her," he says as he takes a sip. 

"You don't think it looks cruel?" 

"No way. She's one of the happiest babies I've ever met, who cares if she lies on the floor?" 

"How many babies do you know?" 

"One." 

You're laughing when you say, "I don't know. I think it's a habit. But we have a couch, so she should sit on it." 

Eddie retrieves the Oreos. Junie watches curiously as he peels open the tray, four rows, two empty and two full of black and white cookies. 

He takes one and passes it to you without looking at you. Eye contact gives you the opportunity to reject it. 

When he's heard the soft crunch of your first bite, glass of milk between his knees, Eddie holds an oreo up purposefully and twists. "See, Junie?"

He licks a big stripe over the vanilla cream. The cream spreads edge to edge as he pushes both sides back together. Softened by a generous dip in milk, he eats the cookie in one vagabond bite. 

"You wanna try?" he asks when he's done. 

Big hands over her small ones, Eddie shows her how to twist an Oreo open. She brings the cookie with the least of the cream to her mouth and bites it. Her pout wobbles in mild disgust. Eddie tries not to laugh. 

She has to like Oreos. They're a staple. 

"Let me show you," he says gently, taking the cream heavy side out of her hands. Dark crumbs stain his fingers as he holds it up to her face. "You gotta lick it." 

She doesn't want to, evidenced by her wrinkled nose and untrusting gaze. 

"You'll have to do it for her," he tells you gravely. 

Moving to kneel in front of him, you take the oreo out of his hands and lick it before stealing back the half of the cookie Junie had been munching on and squishing them back together. You dunk her sandwich in milk and press it to her lips until she deigns to take a small bite. 

"Yummy?" you ask.

She takes the cookie back, a mess of dark black mush collecting at the corners of her mouth as she eats it.

You gaze up at him from the floor. Your eyes look damn pretty, more so when he offers the tray to you, your smile a beacon. "I haven't had Oreos since I was a kid," you say excitedly.

"Do they taste like you remember?" 

You rest your hand on his knee and lean in. "They need more of the filling," you say secretively. 

"Yeah?" Eddie's in motion, twisting one oreo apart and then another. He takes the halves with the most cream and pushes them together. 

One oreo, twice the cream.

You giggle as he passes it to you. "Oh my god." You're giddy, arm heavy on his thigh. 

You eat it like it's something crazy expensive, all smiley and indulgent. You look so pleased that he immediately starts to make you another. 

"Eddie," you protest, covering your mouth, "don't, don't waste them." 

"I won’t waste them. I like the cookie more than the cream,” he lies. 

"Oh." 

You finish your oreo. Eddie can’t find it in himself to be modest about it; you’re smiling and it’s his doing and that fills him with pleasure. 

He watches you mistreat his jeans as you chew the second, your fingers pulling distractedly at the rips. You tuck your hand underneath, white threads tensing over your knuckles and fingerprints brushing over his kneecap, your entire face cringing as a thread snaps from the pressure. 

Eddie looks away quickly. He can feel your eyes on him and has to bite back a smile as you assess if you’ve been caught. 

You could ruin them completely for all he cares. 

Junie makes happy noises beside him. She’s realised the middle of the Oreo is the sweetest and has split one open in her hands. A terrible mess ensues, cocoa powder fingerprints smattered over the pillows she’s buried in and vanilla cream marring her nose in a sticky line.

“Could you make any more of a mess for your poor mom?” he asks. The rhetoric is lost on her; she says something cheerful and holds her hand out for another cookie. 

Her face — expectant, small, cute, all of it evokes an uncontrollable urge to do whatever it is she wants him to do. 

“Is that, like, a kid thing?” he asks. 

You pull your fingertips away from his skin and cock your head. “What?”

He splits an oreo and offers Junie the cream-heavy half, clarifying through a mouthful of dark cookie, “Following her every command.”

You sit at full height. He instantly misses the heat of your front to his knees, the way you’d draped yourself over him familiarly, and is wondering how he might begin to convince you to do so again as you think it over. 

“I don’t know. Maybe. It might just be a Junie thing, but I guess that’s immature to think. S’pose it’s hormones or something. Like when cats meow.”

He giggles at you. Hormones? Cats?

“What?” you ask, half defensive, half sheepish. 

“I just- I love it when you talk like that.”

“Like what?” 

He shrugs and takes another pull of milk to think of a way to say, Well, when you’re tired you get nonsensical, and it’s charming how confident you are but hard to follow without offending you. Is there a way to say that without offending you? Or worse, without revealing every wretched feeling he has for you?

“I sounded pretty stupid,” you summarise. 

“No! Never. I love that you think like that. That you’d think about cats meowing.”

“They do it to manipulate us,” you explain. 

He can almost see the heat of an embarrassed flush radiating off of your cheeks, the press of your lips so endearing he almost leans forward to feel it. He can imagine it, his thumb over your mouth, the pad pulling down your bottom lip. 

There’s an arrogance in thinking you’d let him. 

“Jungle cats, tigers and lions and stuff, they don’t meow,” and you’re still going! He has to cover his mouth with his hand to stop from bursting. “Because they don’t need to. They have no idea what a baby sounds like, and they don’t need us to take care of them so they’ve never learned how to meow. Babies are like that. We hear them crying and we want it to stop.” You have a smile on your face that says, I don’t know if what I’m saying is true, but I’m gonna pretend it is. Pretend with me?

Eddie’s all about pretending. “Cats are master manipulators,” he eggs you on, "but you realise not everyone wants babies to stop the way you do? Some people just don’t like babies.” 

“That’s okay. More babies for me.” You lean out to tap his forehead. “Touch wood.”

“What?” he asks. 

“Touch wood,” you repeat. “I don’t actually want more babies right now, don’t wanna jinx myself by saying it, so I had to touch wood. You don’t have that superstition?”

“Are you saying my head is made of wood?” 

Your sudden laugh is stunning; he can’t bring himself to be offended. 

When Junie's had more Oreos than she should've and the milk's all gone Eddie stands up before you can do it yourself and takes the empty glasses with him, putting them on the kitchen counter with a click. 

He grabs an almost empty pack of wet wipes off of the top of the refrigerator and sits down next to Junie, talking fast in hopes of distracting her.

"I got a call last night," he begins, pulling a wet wipe from the pack and taking Junie's wrist into his hand. He doesn't use the wipe at first, tryimg to convince her that this is all affection. "The phone went ring ring," he rolls the sound around, "and I was thinking, who the heck is calling me so late?" 

He plays up his outrage but keeps a huge smile in place as he works his thumb into Junie's palm, tickling in circles. 

"So I answer the phone, and I say, who is this? And you know who it is?" 

Junie waits, looking like she might be close to laughing. And he's just getting started. 

Eddie takes a deep breath. "Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here! Is this Junie on the other end?" 

What his impression lacks in accuracy it makes up in enthusiasm. 

Her little mouth opens. He wipes the corners with the wet wipe and then her chin. "So I said, no, Mr. Frog, I'm Junie's neighbour. I'm Eddie.

"Kermit said, you can call me Kermit, thank you very much. Mr. Frog was my father." 

You snort beside him. He tries not to look at you because he knows your happy face will stop him in his tracks, your laughter enough to make him smile and break character.

He squares his expression and begins again. "I need to talk to Juniper, it's very important." He wipes down her sticky hands, her stained fingers and palms, worse than smug when she doesn't complain and pull them away. "I said, I'm sorry Mr. Kermit but I can't put her on, she's all safe and snug in bed with her mom. And Kermit said, oh, okay. Well, please tell Junie this." 

Junie's looking up at him, surprised, very pleased, practically wiggling in her seat. She's lovely. Just like her mom. 

He doesn't want to do the voice for this part, struck with a sudden sense of awe. "She is… the smartest, most prettiest, loving little girl in the whole world." 

Eddie beams at her and drops her damp hands. When he impersonates Kermit this time, he's trying as hard as he can. "I'd only like her more if she were green!" 

-

You're clinging to sanity. 

It's Wednesday, it's washing day, and you haven't managed a single load of clothes since you got home because Junie won't stop crying. This isn't new; babies cry constantly and toddlers aren't much different. But, it's been three hours. She's too old for colic. 

Junie has screamed, she's sobbed, she's slapped her tiny hands into your chest. You know she doesn't mean to hurt you, she's just communicating her panic. That doesn't stop the growing distress. 

You're terrified. 

You've found yourself in tears, too. 

"Just tell me, baby," you plead. 

It's useless. She screams so loud her voice cracks, and you decide that nows the time. You have to go to the hospital. 

You don't think you can let her go long enough to strap her into her car seat. Immediately, you think of Eddie. You don't even lock the door. The small walk to his house feels a block long.

He must hear her crying as you approach because the door swings open just as you mount the first step. You backtrack. 

"I'm really sorry," you say quickly, knowing this isn't something he ever signed up for. "I don't know what to do, she won't stop and I think there's something wrong." Your voice wobbles.

There's a huge flash of something akin to the panic you're feeling over his face but he pushes it away, descending the steps two at a time. His hand immediately comes up to your shoulder, fingers curled into your shirt. 

"Chill out," he says, more stern than you've ever heard him. It’s surreal to see him turn like that. Almost like he’s become one of his characters, the voices he does for Junie’s story books. 

You take a ragged breath. 

"I'm serious. You need to calm down. You understand?" 

Junie gives a blistering shout and your face crumples. "Eddie," you say. 

"Can I hold her?" he asks, softer. 

You can see in his face that he isn't sure, that he's out of his depth, but you're so desperate for a life raft that you nod and squeeze your eyes closed, passing her into his waiting arms. Everytime she cries – every wicked intake of air and every subsequent bellowing sob makes your chest ache. You have a splitting headache. Honestly, you're worried you might fall over. 

"How long has she been crying?" he asks, looking over her face and shoulders with a perplexed frown. 

"Hours. At first I thought she was tired or- or hungry but I've tried everything, Eddie, everything." 

"She was like this when you picked her up?" 

You nod. 

He pats her back, the other hand rubbing down one of her legs soothingly. "Did she hurt herself?" He's looking at you without an ounce of judgement.

"Not- not that I know of." You'd looked under her shirt and trousers already. She doesn't have a single bruise. 

He starts to walk back towards your home. You don't follow at first and he reaches out to grab your arm, pulling you along as he says, "Come on, sweetheart. We'll go down to Hawkins general, yeah? Just to be safe." 

"Yeah." 

Junie screams. "It's okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, again and again and again. He doesn't hesitate, his voice velveteen. 

His hand stays on your arm until you're by the car. He's never done a car seat before and you can tell: he tucks her into it with infinite care but can't work out how to do the buckles. You laugh wetly and then feel very guilty. wiping your face with one hand before ducking down to do them yourself. Junie glares at you as you do, still very much crying and now incensed at being strapped in. 

You stand back to take her in and push your thumbs across her wet cheeks and under her snotty nose uselessly, feeling so sorry for her, so guilty. Why can't you work out what's wrong? Why can't you fix it? 

Eddie stands by your side, waiting.

“You got it,” he encourages as you pull back. "You're okay."

You smile weakly and then narrow your eyes, the two of you seeing it at the same time – Junie reaching desperately for her sock. 

You peel it off with shaking hands and feel another hot shock of tears. There, around one of her toes, is a tourniquet. The skin is swollen but looks unbroken, darkened by blood 

You smile because Oh my god, this is what's wrong, and then you panic twice as much as you had before, because Oh my god, her tiny toe. 

"Eddie, I need- I need something. I need a- a nail scissors or-" You drag your hands down your face, in the thick of it. Adrenaline or cortisol or something must race through your veins, your hands shaking with it.

Eddie pulls you back by the hem of your shirt. "We can't cut it away. You'll never get the blade under that- What is that? A hair?" 

"Yeah. A hair." 

A lightbulb moment. You brush past him and almost fall up the steps back into your trailer. 

"Stay there," you say without any explanation. 

You step over the mess you'd left behind and barrel into the bathroom, clipping your shoulder on the bathroom door and slamming onto your knees. 

You're lucky you have it, a tiny pot of hair removal cream in an old makeup bag under the sink. Resisting the urge to kiss the lid, you rush back out to the car where Eddie holds one of Junie's hands in his. He looks an impossible mixture of worried and relieved when you reappear. 

You elbow digs into his chest as you lean over, opening the cream and smearing a line over Junie's swollen toe. She whimpers and shouts and tries desperately to get out of the carseat and, to your devastation, away from you.

"What is that?" Eddie asks from behind you.

"A hair remover." 

You wipe the delapitor clumsily into your only good jeans so you can take both of Junie's arms into your hands. She doesn't want to be touched but you need to be holding her, at least a little bit. 

"How long does it take?"

"I'm not sure… Not long. If it doesn't work we'll still have to go to the hospital." 

Eddie pushes his hands into the top of your back in answer, his fingers curling either side of your neck like he might give you a massage. You shudder as he pulls you against him, as his fingers trace an invisible pattern.

Junie looks up at you both. Her wounded expression loosens. Maybe she's realised that you've figured out her problem, maybe she's just glad to be looked at. Either way, she subdues. 

The hair removal cream's acrid smell tickles your stuffed up nose. You sniffle and Eddie's fingers work into your neck lightly, a silent and unwavering It's okay.

You don't see the hair snap so much as you see the pressure wean. You smother a sob, your relief palpable as you pull your shirt sleeve down to cover your hand and wipe it away. Junie shrieks. 

You take the hair between your nails and pull.

"Oh my god," you say, holding it up between you. 

Everything feels a little bit hazy after that. Eddie rubs your shoulders placatingly before encouraging you away from the door so he can unclip Junie and pull her out of her car seat. He guides you away from the car and back into your trailer, over the mess and into the kitchen. 

You sit heavily in a battered kitchen chair. Eddie stands in front of you, Junie on his hip and a frown warping his pretty features. She grizzles, less when he sets her down in your lap carefully. 

"Is that okay?" he asks softly. Then, when you nod, "Are you okay? You look like you're gonna pass out." 

"I don't feel well." 

"No, I bet you don't. Take it easy."  

You pull Junie's leg up to examine her foot. Her toes are covered in hair remover still. "Could you get me the baby wipes, please?" 

"Sure can. It'll cost you, though." His joke falls a little flat. You try to smile anyhow, your little huff forcing a last tear. You blink until it's gone, aggravated with yourself. 

After all, her toe looks better. Sore, still swollen, but better. Though you could just be seeing what you want to see. 

Eddie tries to pass you the baby wipes but your hands are shaking too badly to take them. Without a word he opens the pack, kneeling on the floor in front of you to wipe down her foot tenderly. His eyebrows pinch together when she whimpers, and he murmurs a sorry, "I know, I know." 

You're trying very hard to calm down.

"All done," he tells her, parentese in play. "You are so brave, junebug. You're the bravest little girl I've ever met. That's why me and your mom decided you were Juniper the Brave, and you proved us both right." 

He taps the tip of a ring-heavy finger under her chin. You watch from over her shoulder. "Really brave. You did a good job, the best job ever," he praises, tilting his head to catch your eye as he says it. 

You smile at him the best that you can. He holds your gaze for a weighted second and then drops it back to Junie. "Do you feel better?" he asks.

She doesn't answer, only tips her head against your chest. 

Eddie pulls off her remaining sock and waves it at her. "Don't need this." 

"Do you think she'll throw up if I make her some dinner?" you ask, the kind of question you don't usually get to ask someone else. A luxury to defer judgement.

"Maybe. Does it matter?" 

"I don't want to clean up puke," you say pathetically. 

Eddie softens. "I'll clean it up if she pukes. Don't worry about it." 

You don't have to, you want to say. Of course he doesn't have to. 

"Thank you," you say instead, feeling like you could burst into an entirely fresh wave of tears. 

Again, he looks up at you. His smile fades from a cheesy exuberance to something sweeter, a melty-warm thing that has your breath catching. 

"I'm really sorry for just showing up like that," you say tentatively, flushed with heat as you realise what you've done.  

"Don't be." 

"No, because she's- I know you never-" She's mine alone. You never signed up for this. You can't make yourself say it, distracted by his ever-growing smile. "I should've handled it on my own." 

"Your mom really doesn't understand how much I like her," he tells Junie humorously, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "She doesn't have a clue. How much I like you," he adds, hand on your thigh, his finger stroking a line down the length of her leg.

"You didn't have to-" You try, stopping again as he huffs out of the side of his mouth. 

His hand closes around your thigh. You can feel the heat of each of his fingers, the bulk of every heavy ring. 

"It's okay. I promise," he says seriously.

"I got so freaked out, I just…"  You give up. Whatever. He knows what you're trying to say. Hopefully.

Eddie leans forward to kiss your knee. His eyes close, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly over your thigh. 

You blink to yourself in a vain attempt at processing what's just happened when he asks, "Do you still feel sick?"

"No.” Your chest burns.

"In that case, I'll make dinner. A feast." 

Things start to feel better. Details sink in. Your heart slows. What was only Eddie behind the stovetop becomes his dark hair scraped up and wrapped in a hair tie, his sweatpants and unlaced shoes, his white t-shirt with sharpie writing all over. Sounds filter in; the spoon scraping the bottom of the saucepan and his frenetic humming, the sound of his rubber-bottomed cons squeaking over linoleum. 

Junie doesn't cry so much as whine. You press kisses that are more for you than her into her hair and on her forehead, jogging your knee. She's fine. She's okay, and she's here in your lap, and there's nothing to panic over now. 

You try to push away the lingering worry. In the moment, a million thoughts had coalesced into only one. What if she's dying? Meningitis, an aneurysm, cancer. Anything. And now those thoughts fall away, leaving behind only the sharp smell of the hair remover and the salty stick of tears. 

"Do you think I have time to give her a shower before dinner?" you ask softly, clearing your throat for what feels like the twentieth time today. 

"You got it. I'll simmer. You could have one, too, if you want." 

"Do I look that bad?" 

"Worse." He grins at your expression. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful as always, sweetheart."

You carry Junie into the bathroom. There's no tub and she's too big for the kitchen sink, so a shower it is. You stand her up under warm spray and turn her back so the spray misses her eyes. She smiles at the warm water running down her back. The relief to see her happy can't be understated. You hop in at the same time and clean her off, wash her hair, and bedeck her tiny features in big big kisses.

Wrapped in her baby towel – a pink poncho type thing with a hood – you walk her to the bedroom and dry her off as fast as you can. 

"Which ones?" you ask, holding up two pairs of pajamas. 

Junie points at the pink shirt and bottoms printed in bright red strawberries with light green tops, letting you dress her and plonk her at the end of the bed without any fuss. 

"No socks for you," you say lightly, sitting beside her in your towel. 

"No socks," she agrees. 

Even though Eddie's been good to you, you can't help wishing that he wasn't here. What you want more than anything in that second is for Junie to be asleep and for your head to be wedged firmly under your pillow, the sheets to your shoulders, dead to the world. 

Not truly dead, of course. But a minute of silence. 

Junie doesn't seem to know what to do with herself, sitting in companionable silence and stillness with you. Her head falls onto your arm. 

"Are you tired?" you ask quietly, too exhausted for bubbly talk. 

She sighs. You sigh too. 

Eddie hums from the kitchen. 

He kissed my knee.

You think you might have imagined it, if you're honest. It could've been anything against your stockings, the brush off his palm or the back of a warm knuckle, but you'd seen it. His lips, his face turned toward your thigh.

"I think he likes me," you tell Junie. 

She doesn't say anything. When you look down at her she's already looking up, eyes wide with confusion. 

"He kissed me," you whisper, leaning down. "I don't know about you, junebug, but I only kiss the people I care about. For a long time, that's been a really short list." You bump your nose against hers. 

You've just finished getting into your own pajamas when Eddie calls out, "Girls? I know ladies like yourselves need longer to get ready but the mac and cheese is acting weird." 

"Weird?" you mumble, hooking your hands under Junie's armpits. You'd let her walk if you weren't worried for her foot. 

Eddie has created a working man's feast, three identical plates heaping with food. Hills of mac and cheese topped with bacon bits take up half of each plate, fried broccoli and collard greens the other. They're golden, almost red with spices. 

"You can cook," you say, surprised. 

"Don't sound so shocked," he says defensively. He can only hold his facade for a moment, deflating. "I really can’t. I tried to copy what you do, I've seen it enough times…" He shrugs and flops down into his usual chair. "Don't tell me if it's gross." 

"I doubt it's gross." 

You can't be bothered for the high chair. Junie looks like she might be too tired to move so you take the chance and sit her between you and Eddie behind the smaller portion (though using small at all feels like a lie, he's made a lot of food). She can barely see over the table.

"Did you use two boxes?" you ask, picking up Junie's spoon. 

It's all the perfect temperature for a baby, maybe a little cold for an adult. You're so happy to have somebody else cook for you that you'd die before you complained. 

He taps his nose. You pass Junie her spoon.

"What do you mean?" You tap your own nose in imitation. "I'll know when I look." 

"So don't look. Eat." 

You eat. Without asking him too – because you wouldn’t, you never do – he starts to feed Junie.

He might be the nicest boy on this whole damn planet. You look at him thoughtfully. How come we always end up here? At the kitchen table?

He looks right. Too right. He looks like he’s meant to be here, smiling and talking to your baby in hushed, fond tones, airplaning roasted broccoli towards her mouth. 

-

“You’ll stay to watch a movie?” you ask later, trying to hide how lethargic you are with your hands deep in dishwater. 

Eddie wipes a fleck of water off of your cheek with a rag. "Duh." 

On the couch, Eddie sneaks a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re pretending to watch the TV and doing a bad job, your attention stolen over and over by Junie where she sleeps in your lap. Your hand rubs over her small, distended tummy, the other holding her foot carefully. You keep glancing at her toe, much less swollen now and with a healthier complexion, though a cruel line remains from where the hair had cut into her skin. 

You don't touch it, only looking. He worries as a wrinkle appears between your eyebrows. 

Listening intently as he is, he can hear the hitch in your breath. Eddie doesn’t want you to cry again — the first time had been awful enough. Your face covered in tears, coming fast and panicked. It was like you’d hardly noticed you were crying. You’d been so scared that Eddie, despite knowing close to nothing about babies or how to make them feel better, had clung to his calm. He’d stomped down every flicker of panic that had surged and tried his damn best to keep a level head. 

Now, with your sad face and the crisis averted, Eddie feels a pang of terror. Just one. You are completely out of your element, Munson. 

You’re definitely the kind of friends now that can sit on the couch together and not care too much about personal space. Eddie uses this to his advantage and spreads his legs just enough to brush his thigh against yours. You look at him and hide your lingering upset with a small smile. It’s a far cry from the genuine happy grin he’s become familiar with, but you're still beautiful. 

Eddie shuffles across the couch toward you until he can push his hand under your arm. He pulls it to his chest, beware of your tenuously sleeping daughter, and hugs it. 

“I was thinking,” he starts casually, looking down at you. 

Your eyes crease with a playful smile. “Oh yeah?” Like you can’t believe it.

“Yeah, I was,” he says, quiet so as not to wake Junie but extremely passionate. “What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

“Nothing." You laugh under your breath.

He glares, faux-offended. Any real offense is swallowed instantly by the sound of your laugh.

“Hm. Anyway, I was thinking,” he begins again, hand running down your arm in what he hopes is a soothing gesture, “that I’d head into the city this weekend. Go to the bookstore ‘n’ the big goodwill by the bus station. I was hoping you’d wanna come with me.” Is he pushing his luck? Maybe. 

You look like you want to say yes, but, “Eddie, I don’t really have the money.”

“I’d pay.” He tries to sell it before you can protest. “I’m asking you to come. Stealing your Sunday. We’d leave early, get breakfast on the way. I don't want to go alone.” I want your company. 

He tries not to show how terrified he is that you’ll say no. 

“I can’t- I couldn’t let you pay for us,” you say, eyes on his chest. 

“Can I tell you something?” You nod. “It would make me… really happy if you did.”

He doesn’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t think there’s a way to tell you that won’t involve unveiling his new and shiny feelings for you, feelings that don’t seem to want to slow, or abate, or moderate themselves. Honestly, he doesn’t want them to. 

He wants you to be happy. He wants to take care of you.

It's embarrassing in its intensity. 

You reach over Junie to wrap your hand around his bicep, though you still don’t look like you’re going to say yes. 

He leans in close, tracing the details of your face with a greedy kind of curiosity. “You wouldn’t let me give you anything for the haircut,” he says. “It’s the same, you know? Doing things for the people you care about." 

He says it like the idiot he is, all rough and insincere, like caring about people is dumb. You smile anyways and finally, finally, give him a nod. So small it’s near imperceptible. 

“If you’re sure,” you say. 

“Positive.”

-

Eddie looks good behind the wheel of your car. The wind whips at his hair, curls that had been neat and pretty only an hour ago now starting to frizz. You think the chaos of it suits him. 

He’s singing along to the radio and it’s a song you don’t know. You don’t think Junie knows it either, but she’s signing it like she does, hands flailing in the air and Mr. Bear bouncing in her lap with the force of her dancing. Eddie looks at her in the rear view mirror, beaming brilliantly. 

“Yeah, sing it, junebug!" he encourages. Her voice peaks. 

You laugh and stretch your hands out in your lap, knuckles brushing the sandwiches you’d packed. You’d let Eddie pay for gas, you might even let him buy Junie a book from the bookstore if he’s feeling generous, but you’re really trying to keep his expenses low. Hence, sandwiches. Even now, the idea of him spending money on you makes you feel guilty. 

Deep down – deep, deep down – you want him to. You’re hoping he’ll pick up a book for you, and that fills you with so much shame you have to look away from him, your face to the window. The highway blurs past, the early morning sun lighting the blacktop and bouncing between cars of all kinds coming into the city for a Sunday outing. 

Eddie turns down the radio a tiny bit and reaches across the seat to squeeze your shoulder. “You alright?” he asks without looking at you. 

You tip your head toward his hand. His rings bite into your cheek. 

You’re in the car on a nice day with a nice boy and your pretty baby listening to the radio, the sun at your side and the breeze kissing your warm skin. 

You’d even managed to find a nice shirt to wear. Today is a good day. You won't weigh it down with silly feelings. 

“I’m great.”

He gives you that smile like he doesn’t believe you and his eyes go back to the road. “Can a guy get another sandwich or does he have to beg?” 

You imagine what it might be like to lean over and kiss his cheek. He deserves a good kiss, you think, and then wince as heat blooms from your chest up to your cheeks. You can’t hold in a pleased smile as you click open the Tupperware. 

“Do you want PB&J or bacon and lettuce?” The tomatoes have already been accosted by a ravenous Junie. 

“I’ll have half of whatever you’re having.”

You weren’t going to have one, and you both know that. You offer him half the PB&J and he takes it, eyes flitting between you and the road. You take a showful bite to release him. He gives you a grateful smile in turn. 

Chewing, you take half of the bacon and lettuce sandwich into your hands and pull it apart. You divide the contents and tuck half into one slice to make a quarter sandwich before leaning over the seats to offer it to Junie where she waits in her car seat. She accepts it hungrily. 

One-handed, Eddie pulls the car off of the highway. “There’s a parking garage somewhere around here,” he tells you.

Once he's found it he jumps out to go pay. You turn in your seat and smile at Junie. She's mauling her sandwich, face smeared in butter. 

"Are you ready for some fun?" you ask. 

She looks at you curiously. 

You try again, really smiling. "Are you excited? We're gonna go find a book, something fun like Red Cat, Blue Cat, and we're gonna see the stores and the people and maybe mommy can get you a new teddy." 

A spark of something. She gets happy when you're happy and today's no exception, her tiny features soon plucked up with joy. When you round the car and open her door to wipe down her greasy fingers and face she barely cares, and she receives your loving kisses with a big smile. 

Eddie returns with the parking ticket and slides it onto the dashboard. You leave Junie's door open now he's back to pop the trunk and unfold her stroller. The sound echoes through the parking garage and the sun struggles to find a way in, your arms wracked with goosebumps.

"Hey, junebug," you hear Eddie murmuring. 

He messes with the buckles on her car seat until they pop open, his triumphant laugh almost as pretty as his face. Junie's is prettier, your daughter laughing up a storm as Eddie scoops her up and sits her on his hip. 

He looks like he had when you first met but with ten times the confidence in holding her and a clear affection. Her hands are in his hair like usual, petting and pulling gently. 

"Brush out the tangles for me," he tells her seriously, bumping the door shut. 

She hums like she's agreed to his task and continues her exploring. 

You hang the baby bag over the stroller's handlebar and Eddie sits her in the padded chair. 

"Junie, have I told you how pretty you look today?" he asks, pulling the straps over her shoulders and from between her legs. He uses parentese like you would, distracting her as he locks her in. When the lock click, he plays affectionately with her hair. "You're like a princess. Your mom has talented hands, huh? And a good eye." 

Pleasure from his compliment drips in thick and fast. You bite back a smile and squeeze the clean baby socks in your hands, waiting for him to stand so you can fight them onto Junie’s feet. Ever since her ordeal you’ve been waiting as long as you can before putting on socks and shoes. The first thing you do when you pick her up from daycare is take them off. 

If Eddie thinks you’re overzealous in your fretting he hasn't said anything. He holds his hand out for the socks and you give them to him, nonplussed though you shouldn’t be as he bunches them up and pushes them over her wiggling feet with patience and bemusement. 

“Stay still… Do you want frostbite? Or gangrene?” he asks her.

“Eddie.”

“Sorry." He looks at you guiltily. “In my defense, she doesn’t know what gangrene is.”

“It’s weird, though. To hear you say it like it’s a good thing. S’creepy.”

He squeezes the sole of one of her small feet and stands, much too close to you as he whispers cheerily, “Gangrene. Septicemia. Pneumonia.”

You laugh and push him away from you. “Shut up.”

“You first. Where’re her shoes?” 

You procure them with a smug smile. “You’ll never get them on.”

His fingers brush yours as he takes them, his eyes blazing at the challenge. 

-

“Will you sulk all day?” Eddie asks you.

The sulking is for show. You frown like you’re really angry and tighten your grip on the stroller, the wind ruffling your clothes. After a moment the facade falls away and you smile at him, unable to hide your reluctant affection any longer. “How did you get her to sit still like that? You vex me.” Said with equal parts envy and pride. 

“I vex you,” he says, voice coloured by good humour. 

He’s fallen into step beside you, your jacket tied around his waist. 

You should bring your jacket. In case you get cold, he’d said. 

I don’t want to carry it, you’d said. 

Don’t patronise me.

You glance over the top of the stroller to make sure Junie’s blanket is still in place. She’s quiet. You’ve decided that she’s in shock to be somewhere that isn’t your home or the daycare. 

“Yeah, you vex me. Infuriate me. I’ve been a mom for two years and I can’t get her shoes on without a fight, and you’ve been-“ You stop dead, stutter, and quickly adjust what you'd been saying like it has been a slip up of the tongue rather than a thought you shouldn't entertain.  “You’ve known her for what, three months? And-“

“Four months,” he corrects, sounding much too proud. 

“Four months,” you amend. “And you can do all this stuff that took me years to work out.” You’re a little bit vexed for real. 

He nods like he’s considering what you’ve said before tipping his head. “But…”

You wait. He doesn’t further his point. “But what?”

“Well.” Eddie brushes something off of your arm. “I guess I have a great teacher, right?” His voice hikes up high and he steamrolls, “I just copy you. You didn’t really get to copy anyone.”

You feel something melty hot in your chest, another affection for Eddie to add to a growing list. “Oh.”

He takes your shoulder into his hand and you draw to a pause, his other hand pointing off into the distance. “There’s the bookstore.”

You follow his finger. Across a landscape of cobblestone, situated firmly between a Domino’s pizza place and a cafe with a peppering of metal wrought tables stands Morgan’s Books. To your surprise, it’s a glass-fronted building with a big clean sign made up of red, yellow, and blue. It's a children's bookstore. 

Eddie has obviously tricked you. You turn to glare at him and find him very close. He doesn’t shy away and you try not to in return. You try, but something about his pretty mouth so close sends shocks like pins and needles to your hands and you have to keep walking lest you embarrass yourself. His hand falls from your shoulder and trails down your back. You swear you can feel even the last millimetre of his fingertip before it falls away. 

You get a good look at the landscape ahead and your eyes narrow. Eddie almost bumps into you when you stop abruptly. 

“What?” he asks. 

"There’s, like, a thousand steps.”

“Gross hyperbole," he argues. A gap of quiet furthers your point; while you had been exaggerating, there are a lot of steps, and he needs time to take them all in.

“Is there a way around?”

“Don’t be dumb, sweetheart. You’ll grab June and I’ll carry the stroller.”

“It’s really heavy. Heavier than it looks.”

He grins like a fiend. “I’m strong.”

Junie’s more than happy to be released, less when you take her into your arms and won’t put her down. You help Eddie snap the stroller back up, indicating which lever to pull with the rubber toe of your converse. He kneels down to guide it into place and looks up at you swiftly afterward, self-satisfied and much too happy considering the task afoot. 

“Maybe we should find another way.”

“Y/N,” he says, like your name is inherently funny, like a joke rolled around over his tongue, “I’m starting to get offended.”

You blow air out of the side of your mouth. 

Eddie slugs the stroller under one arm and holds it tight with the other, giving you a very determined smile. “Ready?”

You balance the baby bag over one shoulder and start on the stairs. Junie's heavy but she’s a heavy you’ve grown used to, and she doesn’t complain enough to warrant any stress. 

You’re impressed when Eddie takes each step at your pace and doesn’t break a sweat. “I thought you were a bus boy. What do you bus? Weights?” you ask incredulously.

He laughs. “I don’t bus weights, but amps are heavy, and I’m not a big shot. I don’t have any roadies to carry them for me.”

You feel terrible then for forgettting. Right. He plays music, you think. You’ve never once seen him play any music, on stage or at home. You’ve seen him play guitar over Junie’s leg to tickle her and tap out a rhythm when he’s heating up desserts in your kitchen, but you’ve never seen him play guitar for real. 

“Is that going okay?” you ask, ignoring the small burn beginning to grow in your arms. 

“Bussing? Sure. Why’d you ask?”

“Not bussing, music. I never ask- I’ve never asked you how it’s going.” 

Eddie winces as the stroller starts to open and pulls it tighter under his arm. It takes him a few seconds to calibrate what you’ve said, and he’s quickly reassuring. “What? Why would you worry about that? You have enough to think about without adding my moonlighting at the Hideout.” He says the Hideout like it’s something to be looked down on. You almost trip up a step and Eddie can’t do anything but watch. “Careful," he begs. 

You keep your eyes on your footing until you’re at the very top, worried you'll fall flat on your face and get Junie hurt.. Eddie comes up two behind you and puts the stroller down, wiping his hands together dramatically. 

“Conquered. Great job, team. Especially you,” he says, poking Junie’s cheek. 

She puts her arms out, vying for his attention now she’s had a taste. He raises his eyebrows at her and offers his arms. You hand her over eagerly, arms aching. You can’t imagine what his feel like. 

“I care about it,” you say firmly. It rather than you, but it rings the same. “I want to know, Eddie, I swear. I’m sorry for not asking.”

He looks up from where he’d been making playful faces at Junie to stare at you. It’s not a mean stare, but it unnerves you all the same. 

She pushes a hand into his hair like she always does and starts to try and pull her fingers through it. It’s knottier than usual because of the wind, and she struggles to make sense of it. His eyes fall to her tugging. 

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly. You know it’s meant for you, even if he’s not looking at you. "If there was something worth telling you, I would’ve told you. I don't doubt that you care.”

You don’t feel better. “No, ‘cos-”

“Why are you so upset?” he asks genuinely. 

You hadn’t realised your face revealed the extent of it. “Because we’re friends. You’re the- the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He smiles, sudden and wide. “I’m your best friend?”

“Like we’re twelve?” you deflect. 

“Yeah, like we’re twelve.”

You ignore him and try to cool down. A hot flush attacks your skin as you stretch out the stroller and click the supports back into place, shucking off your baby bag to hang over the handlebar with a relieved sigh. 

Eddie moves Junie to one side. You anticipate his touch before it happens, his free arm behind your back and pulling you to him. “We’re totally best friends. I’m your best friend,” he says smugly, hand curling around your shoulder. It’s a good hug, friendly and warm and heart-racingly close; you can feel his chest on your back, the curve of a pec through thin fabric. 

You turn toward him indulgently but keep your head down. It’s so nice to be hugged that you can’t make yourself move away.

He rubs the top of your arm, the bump of his rings biting into your skin. “You don’t deny it?”

“No. I don’t deny it.”

“Hear that, June?” Again, he calls her June. Not Junie or junebug, June. You like the way he says it. “I’m your mom's best friend. I win.”

You nod happily, warm under his touch.

Wait. “What?”

“She likes me more,” he teases her childishly. 

“Eddie!”

“What? Am I wrong?” He leans away from you and feigns confusion. 

“Yes! Of course you’re wrong! That’s my baby. Give her to me right now." You join in on his melodramatics, grinning even as you continue, “How could you say that? Sicko." 

“That got frosty quickly,” he grumbles, holding her away from you. 

You move in to plaster Junie in kisses. Not apology kisses because you didn’t say anything wrong, but kisses all the same. 

“Can I get in on one of those?”

You huff at him. He bursts into boyish laughter and holds his hands up. “Kidding!”

“Should we go?” Before you say something stupid.

Eddie carries Junie and you push the empty stroller until you're all looking up at the store's bright sign. "This is where you wanted to come?" you ask him, eyes falling to the window where a sign brags a children's reading nook and their Read Before You Buy promotion. 

He shrugs. "Bookstore's a bookstore." 

"No, this is for kids. We're never gonna find what you wanted in here. I doubt they have King of the Rings between Red Cat, Blue Cat and Pony Girl."

"King of the Rings," he repeats jovially. 

"Whatever it's called." 

He pulls a squirming Junie higher up the length of his chest, the fabric of his shirt rides up with her. You pull it down. You're flustered enough, his naked skin is the last thing you need. 

"Sweetheart, I'm sure they'll have what I want," he says flippantly, pushing the door open with his elbow. 

"If you're sure…" you say, following him in

The bookstore smells fancy. You breathe in the scent of plastic wrap and paper, your eyes searching over floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and pyramids of craft kits. Box sets of Enid Blyton and A. A. Milne sporting classic, whimsy spines are stacked in a towering and precarious looking arch. Signs on either side promise a children's wonderland inside. You follow Eddie around pen displays and jigsaw puzzles, ducking under the archway with an awed, "Oh, wow." 

"Watch out," he warns quietly, taking a step down into the kids' reading nook. 

You bump the stroller to the bottom of the steps and have to stop, amazed. 

Junie is a picture of you as Eddie sets her down, gazing around the room in shock. There's a lot of older kids scattered throughout on big circle pillows with books in their laps and a guardian beside them, but the real wonder is in the decoration. The walls are bedecked in murals; Kermit and Funnybones, The Very Busy Spider and the mouse from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Junie sees Kermit on the walls and gasps, running up to the painting with wide eyes. 

Eddie follows her without saying anything. When he catches up to her, he offers her his hand. She takes it. She's practically shouting, their joined hands restless as excitement courses through her in waves. 

You find two big pillows and a couple of books for Junie to look at. The three of you take to an empty corner and sit, looking over a big picture book full of stills from The Muppets Take Manhattan. Junie makes a lot of excited sounds and nonsense words, talking very confidently though half of it's lost on you both. 

"Kermit," she says, pointing at the page passionately. 

You wrap your arms around her tummy to keep her comfortable and hum. "Yeah, baby. Kermit, Miss Piggy, Gonzo. They're going to New York," you start to describe the page. 

Eddie leans in, his arm pressed to your arm, his skin a heat where it rubs into you as he helps hold open the book. 

The further you read the closer he gets.

Junie gets bored quickly, like toddlers tend to, and wants to go look at the walls again. Eddie stays with the stroller and you pick her up to let her touch her hands to the characters. 

"That's Spot," you tell her quietly, her fingertips brushing over flat fur. "Spot the doggy." 

Junie's never read anything Spot before. He's a popular character. There's three picture books to choose from. You pick up the first, Where's Spot? and offer it to her. 

She likes the look of him. You carry her back to your pillows and struggle to sit back down in the tight gap between the wall and Eddie's knee. He stretches his arms out to take her. . 

"What'd you find, sweetheart?" he murmurs as he balances her on his thigh. 

He reads to her. He has the voice for it, soft and sweet. 

-

"We had sandwiches," you argue, two hours and what feels like fifty stories later. 

Eddie had known before he suggested it that you were gonna fight him on this. He’s managed to end up behind the stroller, weaving between unlucky bystanders as his eyes search for somewhere to eat. 

“And they were awesome."

“Eddie,” you complain softly. 

He peeks at you by his side, grinning at the plastic bag full of books you’d insisted on carrying where it dangles from your fingers. 

You take his smile for teasing and sigh. “Come on. I’ll make dinner when we get home.”

“Sweetheart, as much as I love your cooking that’s hours away. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy. Look, there’s a McDonald’s right there,” he says, pointing toward the yellow ‘M’ sign where it flickers, breaking up a white sky. 

“I’m not hungry,” you say. He senses your proposition before you offer it. “But if you wanna get food, that’s fine.”

“You don’t like McDonald’s?” he asks. 

“I’m really not hungry.”

“Just think of it like- like using the bathroom before a long car ride. You might not need to, but it’s never a bad idea.”

Inside of McDonald’s, Eddie can tell how unhappy you are, your eyes drifting to the menu and your fingers squeezing both handles of the plastic bag. 

He parks Junie’s stroller next to a low table and you slide into the booth beside her. He doesn't sit right away.  

“You remember what I said?” he asks quietly, leaning on the table with one arm, head inclined to yours. 

Your eyes flicker between his face and his arm. You measure his gaze “Doing things for the people you care about,” you say, equally hushed.

Eddie reaches out to squeeze your wrist. “Exactly.” He tries not to squeeze too hard in case his rings dig into your skin. 

When you smile, he grabs the high chair and transfers one unhappy toddler into its constraints. There's a little basket of crayons and colouring papers near the registers that you plunder while he orders. By the time he gets back with a greasy tray of food and drinks Junie's made a masterpiece.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he asks brightly. 

Of course it isn't – there's a shock of blue and a red blob almost shaped like a heart next to the dark printed outline of Ronald McDonald. It's worth the risk of sounding like an idiot because you start to laugh so hard you can't scold him for the desserts. 

After wiping down the highchair's tray with a baby wipe, you peel open Junie's cheeseburger and start to break it into small pieces, blowing on each one vigorously before passing them over. You're about to start on fries when Eddie flicks your hand. 

"Eat," is all he says, swiping her fries out of your reach to copy your process. 

Tray laden with an abundance of bite-sized fast food, she grabs a cheesy looking slice of burger and screams loudly. 

Eddie gawps. "What was that? Is it too hot?" 

You swallow a sip of your drink and the cup sheds condensation like a spattering of raindrops when you put it down. "I think she's having a really good day," you say.. 

"Well fu-" he amends his cuss word quickly, "-dge, me too, junebug. Best day out ever. We got books, burgers, and I'm with my two favourite girls." 

It might have sounded more romantic if he hadn't said it around a mouthful of big mac. You look almost as happy as Junie does anyway, 

-

When Junies just about finished you carry her off into the ladies to change her diaper and freshen up. You have a baby in one arm and a bag full of diapers and bottles and onesies in the other, and you stare into the mirror and can't work out Eddie's angle. 

Eddie is loud and crude and clumsy. He smells like his close friend Mary Jane half the time and he doesn't know how to style his hair. He laughs loud, sings louder. Almost everything about him is unapologetic and brash, his dark looks and ripped up clothes, his van, his smile. 

And he's nice. He's so nice. Down to the bone, maybe down to his soul, there's a kindness that floors you every single time. He smiles and he squeezes and he says sorry for things that aren't his fault. He helps without being asked. How many times now has he knocked the door, found you kneeling on the living room floor folding clothes and thrown himself opposite you? Bet you I can do double what you've done in five minutes flat. Or stationed himself at Benny's for lunch to check you're having a good day? Here's five for the pretty waitress I saw earlier, make sure she gets it, won't you? How many times has he, hair limp and clothes rumpled, burst beaming into the kitchen with enough dessert for a family of five and a gallon of juice? Why wouldn't I get a gallon? Junebug'll have drank half by the time you sit down, sweetheart. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and you can't work out why. 

"Hi, girls," Eddie says when you return. 

He's cleared off the table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Like this, the lean trim of his waist is emphasised, as is the slight curve to the tops of his thighs. 

"Hi," Junie says. You echo her greeting. 

"D'you have fun? Powder your noses?" 

"Can't you tell?" you ask. You did not powder your nose. 

He straightens up and peers at you assessingly. "Definitely. S'like you got prettier, and I thought it was impossible." His voice is sugar sweet by the end, attention on Junie. She's aching to be put down and writhing in your grip, but his voice catches and holds her attention until you're back outside. 

It's cooler. The air cleaner. You put Junie down and clasp her hand firmly in your own, bending at the waist to tell her face to face, "No running off, alright? You hold mommy's hand tight." You squish her little fingers until she giggles. "Okay?" 

"Okay," she says. 

"Okay, thank you." Then, because she looks so sweet and this has been one of the best days of your life, "I love you." 

You kiss her cheek. 

Eddie won't let you push the stroller. "You concentrate on little miss trouble," he says mildly, kicking the brakes with a frown. "I got this. Maybe." 

Half a block to the goodwill. It's not as big as you'd expected but there's a fun furniture section that draws Junies attention. You're reluctant to let her climb on the furniture in case anything is dirty or infested, though you do sit her in a wicker chair for a tree swing and a huge velvet loveseat like she's goldilocks, asking, "How's that? Comfy?"

Hidden away, there's a bookshelf painted green and pink that threatens to topple over hiding a grandfather clock still ticking. You lift Junie up so that the three of you can look at the clock face, a small silver disk with illustrations on either side. A gorgeous swelling of purples and melty blues in a ring behind the man in the moon. The sun, a buttery yellow buffeted by white-blue clouds. 

"Grand," Eddie praises. 

"What did you want to come here for?" 

He grins at you and nods his head to the left. "It's over there." 

'It' ends up being a clothes rack longer than your trailer home partitioned by size. Every t-shirt different but bragging the same premise – band merchandise. A riot of rock bands peppered in popular duo's like Tears for Fears and the occasional Cyndi Lauper tour shirt, each one sticking out like a sore thumb; a rainbow array besides faded blacks and slate greys. 

"Why'd they have so many?" 

Eddie shrugs, though he tries to explain his theory anyways. "There's a venue maybe… four blocks away? That has these vendors outside all the time shelling knock-offs."

"So these are knock-offs?" 

"Most of them. They're usually in good condition though." 

He's right. You find all kinds of shirts in varying qualities. Some obviously real, thick fabric and perfect prints. He picks up a Judas Priest tour shirt that he claims to be the real deal, a Metallica long sleeve that most certainly is not. There's a Twisted Sister shirt with a mysterious brown stain and a Ghoulie Girls muscle tee that's almost completely split down one side. 

You shuffle through the things in your size, absent-minded. Junie's not interested in the slightest and is starting to complain. You fend off an oncoming tantrum with a pack of fruit snacks, offering them to her one at a time. 

Eddie whistles where he's standing a short distance away, "Oh, fuck." 

He unhooks a hanger and holds it out, amazed. "Oh, shit." 

"Eddie," you chastise. Not because you care, but Junie saying either of those words at daycare would suck. 

"Sorry, sorry. You like these guys, right?" He holds up a t-shirt for The Mamas and The Papas, a group from the sixties. It looks new. 

It's the only cassette you own where you can stand to listen to both sides all the way through. "Yeah. Like Cass Elliott's stuff more." 

"Who's that?" 

You point at Elliott on the shirt. "Her." 

"Guess how much they want for it," he demands.

You think. Junie whines for another snack and you give her the packet. "Ten dollars?" 

"A dollar." He passes the shirt to you so you can see it for yourself and leans down to bundle up your sighing daughter. She can't decide whether she's enjoying it for a good few seconds, her annoyance at being somewhere this underwhelming for so long clear but fading as Eddie shushes her gently. "Isn't that sick?" he asks you. 

"It would be sick, if you liked them." 

He shrugs. "I'll wear it as pajamas. A dollar for a shirt? You can't steal it that cheap." 

You laugh and drop it into his basket. He bumps his shoulder into yours until you move down the rack, his fingers searching for something with focus. You're in awe at how he's handling it, a basket heavy in the crook of his elbow and Junie on his hip trying to share her fruit snacks with him unsuccessfully. 

"Ah-ha!" He pulls out a black t-shirt. The back to you, you can't tell what's so interesting about it until he flips it around. "What do you think?" 

It's the same The Mamas and The Papas shirt. 

"You want?" he asks. 

You check the price tag before answering and find yourself laughing gleefully, almost smug. "Hey, this one's fifty cents." 

He gasps. "What?" 

"I can afford that one myself." 

He pulls it out of your hand, quick but not cruel, and tucks it into the basket. "Don't care. Wanna see if they have one in Junie's size?" 

"They won't." 

"What about a small and we cut the excess off? She can wear it like a dress. We'll all match." 

Eddie picks up a bunch of t-shirts for you, some funny, a lot plain bad. You wonder if you're being made fun of but from the gleeful expression on his face you know he's just having a good time. It's sweet, really, how he seems to pick the more feminine looking ones for you. You try your best to calculate how much he's spending on you – it feels tacky and silly, but urgent – and end up losing the thread. He must've passed ten dollars by now. It makes you feel sick. 

You see your saving grace across the way. 

"Oh my god!" you feign surprise. Both Eddie and Junie look up at you, startled. "You know what mommy just saw?" 

Junie perks up. 

"What did I just see? What did mommy see?" you encourage. 

"What?" she asks. 

"I saw… teddies!" 

"Mr. Bear?" she asks. 

You beam at her. "Mr. Bear's brothers and sisters, I think. Should we go look at them?" 

She says yes and then something else you don't catch, squirming aggressively to be put down.

Eddie says, "Sorry sorry sorry," and lets her down gently.

She snatches your hand and starts to tug you away. You glance over your shoulder to make sure Eddie's following you and he is, a melty-warm smile on his face. You navigate the store floor and almost knock down a bucket of hats with the stroller on the way to the teddies. There's a few of them, all lined up in a row next to jigsaw puzzles and old board games. 

"I didn't think this through," you say, watching as Junie picks through the teddies with a huge smile on her face. She starts to hug them towards her and you try not to cringe. 

"You can scrub her when we go home," Eddie assures you leaning against the stroller, hair behind his ears.

You grab the end of a curl and pull it back in front of his face, messing with it until it falls the way you want it to. He stays very still. "I might need to de-flea her." 

He laughs and it's a shock, an abrupt sound that makes your chest ache with fondness. 

"You might. I got some tea tree oil lying around somewhere if you need it," he says. 

"And if she gets dermatitis?" 

His grins turns embarrassed. "I don't know what that is."

"It's like-" You tilt your head to the side to mimic his own and drop your hand from his hair. "It's gross. Like a bad rash." 

"Oh, then we'll give her a tomato soup bath." 

You burst into laughter and have to grab his arm to stop from toppling over, or at least that's what you tell yourself. "That's for skunks," you manage to tell him, giggling loudly. 

"Shit, really?"

You nod at him, wanting to kiss the sheepishness straight off of his lips. "You're thinking of an oats bath," you say. "Oats are good for the skin. And milk." 

"So we just rub her down with oatmeal. Case solved." 

Your hand rubs over the curve of his forearm until you reach the cold bite of his chain bracelet. It brings your attention back to what it is you're doing. You pull your hand away. 

You have enough money to get Junie any teddy she wants. You'd made sure of that. You'll just have to hide the train in your tights and wear your waitressing skirt low on your hips for a week or three until you can afford a new pair of pantyhose. 

You move to kneel next to Junie. She's pulled every teddy off the shelf and sits half-buried in them, talking a hundred words a minute. You think she might be make-believing, catching the slightest difference in her tone as she shakes one bear and then the other. 

After checking the price tags stuck sloppily to each ear, you realise you can afford two. 

Best day ever. 

"Junie," you say with intent, heavy so she'll look at you. "I want you to pick your two favourite bears. Yeah? Pick which ones you like the best. And we're gonna take them home, okay? Give them a bath, brush out their fur, get them some jammies." 

Watching the way her expression changes as she realises what you're saying is confirmation. This is the best day ever. 

She decides eventually on one too many. There's a pastel green-blue rabbit with floppy ears and a ribbon tied around his neck, half a face of whiskers that make him quite charming and a worn tail. Next to him is a classic teddy bear who could be Mr. Bear's younger brother who seems in very good condition. Last, a bigger, softer golden teddy with an enamel nose and eyes lies over her lap.

You can't afford all three. 

You've barely opened your mouth to tell her, a weak smile on your lips ready to placate when Eddie says, "The rabbit is classic. You'll have to let me get her that one." 

"Eddie," you say, looking up at him as you shake your head, "you can't. I can't let you." 

"She'll have to share him with me, obviously. He's punk rock." 

It's the least punk rock plushie you've ever seen. 

"Eddie," you say again, quietly. 

He scoops the hair away from his face like he's going to tie it up. "Y/N." He says your name expectantly. When you don't budge he lets his hair fall back to his shoulders and turns serious. "You can pay me back, if you want to." 

"Really?" 

"Only for the rabbit." 

You purse your lips to fight a smile. 

Junie throws herself into your lap with her new treasures. "For the rabbit," she parrots factually, gazing up at you with eyes full of content. Her small smile means everything. 

"He's a bunny," you murmur, fingers brushing his rough ear. 

"He's sweet." Eddie crouches in front of you. He smells like something nice though you can't think of what it is. Cologne, something dark and deep hiding under a woody scent. Maybe sandalwood. His knee taps your thigh and his hand wraps around your shoulder for balance. "Got a dirty nose though. Who does that remind you of?"

You giggle and tap Junie's nose. "I wonder." 

-

Down what feels like a thousand steps and back into the parking garage, your legs are hurting in the best way and Junie's half asleep in her stroller. You'd reluctantly let her keep the blue-green rabbit in hand, and she snuggles him close to her chest. 

"I'm actually genuinely worried she's gonna get something from him," you confide. 

Eddie weaves his arm through yours. "Like rabies?" 

"A rash." 

"I'm allergic to gain detergent tablets," he says, his hand slipping away from you so he can put both on his hips. "When I moved in with my Uncle Wayne he didn't know that, obviously, not at first. We didn't notice for a while. One day I'm scratching my chest and he says to me, boy, what are you doing always itching like that? You ever take a shower?" He impersonates his uncle's disappointed frown.

You laugh. "Poor baby." 

"I mean, I probably wasn't showering." He laughs. "I was like, wow, thanks Uncle Wayne, I love you too.

"He lifts my shirt up in the middle of the kitchen and we both just stare at this rash. It was the first time I'd really noticed. I didn't… I was a skinny kid, I didn't really find any pleasure in looking at myself. And- He got so serious. Asking me if I was okay, if school was stressing me out." 

"He thought you were hurting yourself?" 

"In a way… It wasn't the first time he tried to get me to talk about how I was feeling, but it was the first time I thought- I mean, the first time I realised that it was permanent. That we were-" He cuts off with a laugh. "I'm being weird."

"No weirder than usual," you tease. Your expression softens. 

You slow, trying to convey how much you want to hear it with a smile. You don't want to say something that'll weigh on the impossibly light mood you're both in; the ground practically glows yellow under your shoes, the two of you walking on sunshine or something remarkably similar. 

"I guess I realised he was gonna take care of me. I told him all about school, stuff I'd been lying about, how the Walton twins kept taking my lunch money, how I was failing algebra. How much I," he licks his lips and then smiles, "how much I missed my mom." 

"Do you still miss her a lot?" you ask, though you know the answer. 

"Yeah, I do. I don't remember everything, but I remember the way she talked sometimes. I don't remember her voice," he concedes, "just… the way she moved. She would lean back whenever I was getting into trouble, and she'd get this look on her face like I was the funniest thing on the planet." 

You grin at him. Your cheeks ache from what must be a hundred smiles today. It's a really nice memory to have. 

"You are pretty funny," you say.

"What was that? You think I'm pretty and funny? Baby, you spoil me." 

You stop altogether and press your fists into your eyes, defeated. "I should've seen that one coming." 

"Yeah, you should've." 

Soft snores, so quiet you almost miss them. By the time you've got back to your car Junie's sleeping with her chin to her chest and the rabbit's ear held tight in her small hand. 

"Will she wake up?" Eddie asks quietly. 

"Not if I'm very, very careful," you whisper. 

You scoop her up and tuck her into her carseat, holding your breath all the while. Eddie tries his best to fold down the stroller. 

You emerge from the backseat and make a soft pitying sound. "Stuck?" 

"I can do it," he promises, head and face hidden behind the padded seat. His hands fight with the metal bars holding it in place. Again, you tap the right strut with your shoe to help him out. 

He says thank you but refuses to look at you. You swear you're gonna kiss his cheek this time for real because he deserves one and you really want to give him one, but he puts the stroller into the trunk and touches your waist as he opens the driver's side. Any bravery gets turned into mush. 

He rolls down the window and sticks his head out, ever amused. "Are you coming?" 

You pause at the door and get closer than you mean to, close enough to find yourself distracted by the beauty mark along his jawline. 

"You want me to drive?" you ask. 

"No, sweetheart. You're good." 

You smile at each other. It's a strange sort of smile, strange to be taller than him, strange to have your faces this near. There's a lot to say but maybe now isn't the right time to say it, or maybe now is exactly when you should, and his face lifts up just a touch and your hands feel heavy at your sides.

"Eddie…" 

You close your fingers over the door, braced as his body turns to yours. You get the sense that he's waiting for you to say – or do – something. To lean down. To take the leap. 

He's the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

You waver. 

"You know," he says lightly, blinking his long lashes at you in a way that has your heart skipping beat after beat, "if we hurry, I think we can get on the highway before the work rush. We'll be back in Hawkins before dark." 

You bring your hand to his cheek. A sorry and a thank you at the same time. "I don't want to be back in Hawkins before dark." I really want to spend more time with you. 

"I'll crawl." 

You press your lips together, tongue in your cheek to stop from giggling like a loser as you walk around the hood and climb in. He turns the key in the ignition and switches off the radio before it can wake up Junie. True to his word, Eddie goes what must be a half a mile an hour out of the parking garage. The car behind you beeps aggressively. 

Your eyes flicker between the rearview and his grinning face. "What are you- oh." 

"Crawling," he murmurs smugly. 

The sun starts its slow descent. You use his knee for leverage and pull down his sun visor, then your own, blocking the light. Eddie says, "Thank you," very sweetly and you get comfortable and clip yourself in, anticipating a long drive home. 

The stores turn on their neon, fast food and take out restaurants open for the night. The smell of warm oregano and olive oil is strong as you drive through the side avenue past a pizza place with its door thrown open. 

Eddie asks if you're hungry and you decline. He takes it with grace and doesn't say much besides passing commentary until you realise he's going the wrong way. 

"Eddie," you start. 

"I know. Just- one last thing. Let me get one more thing and then we'll go home and you never have to let me spend money on you ever again." 

You look over his pinched, pleading brows and his slight pout for any insincerity and find it in droves. "Until Friday," you say, dejected.

"Now you're getting it." 

He pulls up to a small bakery and weasels his way inside. You wait, car idling, hands rubbing over the cracked leather of your seats wondering what sweet treat he's going to emerge with. 

You have a nightmare – a heaping bag of donuts and shortbread and pastries, things you could never pay him back for, more to add to the impossible pile of things he's given you. 

Doing things for the people you care about, you repeat to yourself wearily. 

You hadn't expected anything for the haircut, but this is more than a haircut. It's difficult not to think of every dollar as an attribute of every hour he's worked. What makes you deserving of his literal physical labour? 

I didn't force him. He likes me. 

He certainly looks like he likes you as he appears again, shoving his wallet into the back pocket of his black jeans and wielding a flat looking plastic platter with an exuberant expression. He almost drops them trying to show you. Your heart shoots into your throat.

He's still chuckling when he throws himself into the driver's side. "Shit, did you see that? Almost lost 'em. Here, sweet thing. Hold the sweets. Makes sense, right? Sweet thing holding sweet things."  

You accept the tray of what looks like a rainbow of blobs and go to peel off the lid. "Can I?" you ask. 

"Of course you can." 

You pull off the lid. Twelve cupcakes of all different colours in rows of four. The first four are chocolate cupcakes, one with green icing shaped like a frog, one with a white rabbit, one with an orange fox and one with a blue fish. The second row seems fancier. By the third and fourth row there's no pattern, just an assortment of flavours and decorations, chocolate curls and glitter, a half a strawberry, a smattering of mini marshmallows. 

"What flavours that one?" you ask, pointing at a golden cake topped with multicoloured icing, a swirl covered in little crystal like sprinkles. 

"I don't have a clue. I picked the first four and then realised it was taking too long. Told 'em to give me whatever."

"Eager to get back?" 

"Eager as a cry for life. Try it." 

"You don't want one before you start driving?" you ask. 

"I'll try that one after you." 

You peel back crisp, metallic shiny paper and take a cautious bite. It's a bourbon vanilla cake with a coffee flavour buttercream to cut the sweetness. You can't tell whether you like it or not at first, so you take another bite. 

"Leave some for me." 

"Sorry!" you say through a giggly mouthful. "Here." 

He has both hands on the wheel. You don't know what possesses you – though you're starting to wonder if it can be called possession at all, more like a hunger that won't let things lie – to do it, but you bring the cupcake up to his face and hold it so he can take a bite. 

He licks a big dollop of icing as it threatens to fall down his chin, head tilted high. "Oh my god. What is that? Is that coffee?" 

"I think so." 

"Okay, awesome. Let's try another one." 

"What?" 

"Let's try another one. There's still eleven left! We can save the cute ones for Juniper the Loveliest, but that's still a ton of flavours. C'mon, let me try the one with the chocolate curl. If I remember, it has white chocolate melted inside." 

"If you remember?" you ask, peeling back the paper of his requested cupcake. "You've had these before?" 

"A long time ago." 

You tilt your head toward your shoulder and watch his lashes kiss. "Here," you say warmly. 

He accepts the proferred cake and takes a good bite. His eyes roll back into his head dramatically and he goes stiff, shoulders tense and then suddenly not. You watch the muscle of his bicep flex as he tips his head back in pleasure. 

You chortle and you're so happy you don't care how silly you sound, nor how unattractive you might look as you hit him in the arm. "Stop! You're enjoying it too much!" 

"I'm enjoying it the right amount! Try it, try it," he says quickly. His eyes flick back to the tray. "I wanna try that strawberry one next." 

"Watch the road, Munson, god! I'll pass you whatever one you want, just don't crash the car!" 

You forget yourselves. Laughing, eating icing with your noses scrunched up, you don't remember to stay hushed, and soon Junie's awake and annoyed. 

You worry for a second that her crying will dampen the mood, but Eddie beams wider still. He's more smile than boy. 

"Junie baby! What cupcake do you want, sweetheart?" he asks her, watching her in the rearview mirror. 

"Cake?" she asks. 

"Cupcake! Yeah, baby, what one do you want? There's a froggy and a fishy and a bunny-" He stops to take a turn onto the highway. The road evens out underneath, the plastic tray stops crinkling. "And a fox," he finishes. "All for you." 

You twist in your seat, bunny and fish held in your hands. "Fishy or bunny?" you echo. 

"Fishy and bunny," she says clumsily, eyes widened with excitement. 

"Just one for now, baby. Let's pick the bunny," you say gently.

There's no hopes of her eating it cleanly. You don't bother with any precaution. It's your car and her seat and her clothes and if she wants to cover it all in soft fondant you don't mind, anything she wants if you get to see this look on her face. Pure happiness, her eyes closing in bliss as she takes her first bite. 

"Good, huh?" Eddie asks, speaking glances at her. 

"Good!" she says loudly, cheeks plastered in white icing and fluffy golden crumbs. 

Then, like the good girl she is, she tries to offer up the cupcake and almost drops it. 

"S'that for me? Aw, you keep it. You keep it. Mom's gonna share hers with me." He grins at you. "Isn't that right?" 

You share that entire tray of cupcakes right there in the car. By the time you get home, back to Hawkins, it's dark, your stomach hurts, and every cupcake bears two missing bites. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | multi-chapter

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader

[erensonly]

thinking about sweet data analyst!reader being quiet as a mouse always scaring the boys. scares them so much they think abt getting her a bell. lets get into some backstory bc this may be a mini series 😈

contains: extreme fluff, ooc writing, love is used as a pet name, no pronouns used, references to DV pls read at your own discretion.

you were the new data analyst for the 141. before, you only worked with Kate, gathering and analyzing data for her but she thought you would be so much more helpful to the task force since their old analyst had retired. you were hesitant at first, not really wanting to be around a group of men. why should you leave your comfort zone?

this did not work with laswell. she had taken you in after you stumbled to the gates of the base, attempting to stop crying to give them an explanation and sporting bruises on your face and hands. luckily she had been there to meet with john when she had heard the guards complaining about a crying woman refusing to leave. she had helped you in more than one way. even allowing you to stay with her until you could find a job and move by yourself.

when she had found out you knew your way around computers, her face lit up like a christmas tree, telling you she had the perfect job for you. you were hesitant to take the job, knowing the work she did involved the military, you didn't know if you wanted to take the job. you had tried to convince her that it was fine, but once laswell has her mind made up, that's it.

thats how you ended up here, wanting oreos. you didn't mean to scare them at first. they were a little scary and you wanted nothing to do with them at first.

you just wanted the oreos but ghost was in the way, facing the opposite way with his head in his phone. you stood there awkwardly at first,not wanting to ask the big man to move but you really wanted those cookies. you stand there for a bit debating if you'll wait for him to leave the room or grow some balls and just ask him to move. you decided on doing neither.

you made your way towards him as quickly as you could; the plan was to just reach up and grab the chocolate cookies so you could go back to your desk before ghost could say anything. trying to get closer to the cabinet, you find yourself pushed up against the counter, a large hand wrapped around your wrist. when he realized it was you, he let you go with a big sigh. "scared the shit out of me. when did you get in here?"

"uh.. not too long ago." that was all you could muster, the man was too intimidating. you awkwardly shuffled towards the cabinet with the cookies and reached up to get them. mission accomplished, you thought to yourself. slithering back to your desk, you leave ghost stunned and only able to mutter a quick "bloody hell" before going back to his phone.

----

the next time you interact with the 141 outside of working it's with gaz. from the small conversations you had, he seemed very nice with a kind smile and calming aura. this time you were trying to make your way to price's office to give him a manila folder with the information he requested. you had walked to the door but heard talking, maybe he was busy. you decided that you would wait to give him the folder so you wouldn't have to speak to whoever was in the office.

it felt like time was going so slow and by the time the person had walked out, you were leaning against the corner of the wall, head against the wall in a way that you had have to almost round the corner to be able to see you. you looked up, and the man look like he just had a heart attack. clutching his chest like he was clutching his pearls and purse and breathing heavily. "Jesus, love,gotta say something. have you been waiting out here long? you could've just came in, y'know?" all the questions were becoming overwhelming when you just gripped his lips to silence him.

it took his look of surprise and a bit of thought to realize what you did. you had just grabbed the lips of a soldier. not just any soldier but a heavily decorated soldier who was apart of The john price's task force. he could kill you faster than you can say you're sorry. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to, you just kept talking and i didnt know what to do. please don't kill me." you had finished your mini rant only to see him doubled over in laughter. he was in tears.

"did you just silence me?" he asked between laughs. you didn't understand what the hell was funny, this man is going to kill you. while he was still laughing and trying to get soap on the phone, you tiptoed into price's office to give him the folder, telling him that if he found you dead on base it was gaz before scurrying out of his office. john was left looking confused because he had just heard kyle laughing a few seconds ago.

----

next was soap. sweet, sweet soap. he genuinely did his best to welcome you into their group, but you didn't really seem interested. he eventually just took any interaction you two had and replayed it in his head over and over again. you were just so sweet, how could he not? you still got lost on base sometimes since everything was one monotone grey and everything looked the same. and it was just your luck that the only people around were new recruits and other people you never spoke to. turning, you see soap heading toward the mess hall.

when you sped up to catch him, he's surprised. he even did that cartoon cat jump they do before running off. he started saying something in a language you don't understand when you cut him off. "not sure what you're saying but i agree. anyway, where's the gym? i need to ask ghost a question." he was shocked to see you turn around and wait for him to lead the way. he couldn't help the smile that came across his face. such a hasty girl; you always said everything you needed to say as fast as you could before turning away, giving him a look at allat movement back there.

he laughed again before helping you find ghost. and you still don't get why these men find you so funny. there is nothing funny about them being so scary.

----

lastly, we got my husband john. he was made aware of your situation and why you acted the way you did before you started working under him. he couldn't help but think you were a sweet, hard working little thing. never with much to say, and so skittish. he may have told you that he doesn't know how to access the files on his computer just so he can see you come to his office with a folder. is it a crime to want to see such a sweet face?

john had told you he would like to see you after debriefing and that he would just let you know. but you had already finished your work of the day an you spent your free time playing whatever games you could access on your computer. you eventually started to feel restless so you decided to sit in price's office until he got there. there was a couch in a corner of the room, worn but comfortable. you could imagine the boys laying on the couch talking mindlessly to john.

you had sunken into the corner of the couch, curling up in a way that you would have to step completely into the office to see you sitting there. it had been a good 10 minutes of sitting in silence before you heard footsteps approaching the door. you couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but it sounded like john was on the phone. he, not long after, walked into the room, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear with a stack of folders in his hands.

"-exactly. yeah i'll be on it right away. bye." and as he's turning around, you're sitting up straighter and he yells. and i mean one of those old people, "help i've fallen" type of yelps; and he drops his files on the floor. you just give him a blank stare.

"good God. when did you get in here?" you just shrug, brushing over the question. "what was it that you needed from me sir?" that's when he knew, you were going to be the death of the 141. literally.

#erensonly #black reader #cod #vivis.blurbs #simon ghost riley #john price #simon riley #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #kyle garrick x black reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick #john price x black reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #imagines #my writing #sweetmedic

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 8

Collaboration with the Dusty Bun to my Steeb @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: The unresolved fight between you and Eddie continues as your birthday comes around and he still won't come to celebrate with you and your friends.

Note: I can't believe it's been over a year now since I started writing this series. That feels insane to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 6.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Today should have been perfect. 

For one, it’s your birthday, and it coincides with your off day from classes. You got a free coffee from the local café this morning. And your friends are planning a night out at the bar now that you’ve finally reached the legal drinking age. 

But it’s not perfect, because you and Eddie still haven’t spoken since your argument. To be honest, you’re not sure if he even wants to fix things. 

It’s all you thought about the whole day while you babysat Danny and Amelia Harrington. You force yourself to concentrate on the road as you drive to pick the older kids up from school, the youngest two safely buckled in the car seats. 

Ryan and Natalie walk out first, bundled up to fight off the heavy wind and animatedly discussing some intense second-grade gossip. Luke and Theo trail behind, play-fighting until they reach the car. 

The sliding doors have barely opened before Luke is climbing into the car and shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You wince, massaging your ear with your forefinger. “Thanks, little man,” you say, and the rest of the group chimes in with their own cheers. 

“I got you a gift!” Luke chirps, something crinkling in his grasp. He hands you a bright blue snack pack of mini Oreos. It’s opened and currently only contains a single cookie. 

You smile gratefully, trying not to laugh. “My favorite!” you exclaim, taking the lone Oreo and popping it in your mouth. 

Ryan digs into his backpack and takes out a yellow piece of construction paper. “I made you this card,” he says shyly. 

It reads, “Happy Birthday to the best babysitter in the world!” Below the printed words, he’s drawn himself, Luke, you, and Eddie. Your heart pangs when you think about that stupid fight, the one where you’d both let your insecurities run wild. 

If this is the end of the relationship, how will you break it to the boys?

You don’t have time to ruminate on that before Luke leads everyone, even baby Amelia, into a very off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to You. Even if Amelia can’t speak yet, her melodic mumbling and gurgling only enhanced the performance. They’ve barely taken a breath after the song is finished before Natalie and Theo are asking questions. 

“How old are you?”

“Are you gonna have cake?”

“What presents did you get?”

Luke, of course, pipes up with a request of his own:

“Since it’s your birthday, can we get McDonalds? I want a Happy Meal.”

When you get back to the Harrington household—sans McDonald’s to Luke’s disappointment—you situate the two youngest in front of the television and pop Mulan into the VHS player for them. Once you’ve made sure Amelia is securely in her walker and Danny is cuddled up on the couch between his favorite teddy bear and his stuffed rhinoceros, you head into the kitchen to prepare a snack for the older kids.

The four of them seem to be doing alright with their homework as you put one bowl of baby carrots and one bowl of Cheez-It crackers on the table. Unsurprisingly, four small hands grab for the processed orange snack, bypassing the healthier option all together. 

For the next hour or so you flit back and forth between the dining room to help with homework and the living room to attend to any toddler needs or upsets. The time passes quicker than you would’ve thought, and you’re surprised when you hear the front door unlocking. You had known Steve and Nancy would be coming home early today to give you a chance to go out and celebrate your birthday, but the hour snuck up on you. 

The moment that Amelia hears her parents step into the house, she’s no longer interested in the avalanche that buried the Huns and has the urgent need for her mom to pick her up. 

“They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Steve says as he reaches up to muss Theo’s hair. The little boy just ignores him as he tries to figure out the math problem he’s been working on for the last five minutes. 

“Nah, not too bad,” you say. Trying to contain a smirk, you lean in towards Steve and speak in a loud conspiratorial whisper. “Except…these two,” you say, gesturing to Ryan and Natalie. “Evil masterminds.”

Natalie just hmphs and tosses her light brown hair over her shoulder while Ryan sticks his tongue out at you. With a chuckle, you walk over and press a kiss to the top of the eldest Munson boy’s head. 

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” you tell him. The truth is that you definitely have time to spare before you have to start getting ready for the bar tonight, but you want to make sure you’re gone by the time Eddie gets here. 

Ryan turns in his seat to look at you and opens his mouth, but before he can speak Eddie enters the house. Your body has had many different reactions to Eddie over the course of you knowing one another, but the one that comes over you now is completely foreign. Heat seems to rise to your cheeks, but it feels like your veins are made of ice and you could snap them beneath your skin if you moved too quickly. 

Eddie toes off his chunky black work boots by the front door and does a double take when he sees you standing by Ryan. He gives you a tentative smile and you give a small nod in recognition. Needing to focus on something else, you look back down at Ryan and gently move some of his growing honey colored hair off of his forehead. You can still see Eddie in your periphery though. He’s coming closer towards you, and it feels like every step he takes makes your heart race a little faster. 

Once he’s so close that you can’t avoid looking at him, you notice a small pink gift bag in his hands. Eddie’s deep brown eyes are looking down at it too, but you both raise your heads simultaneously and meet each other’s gaze. Pain and longing radiate off the two of you so strongly that even baby Amelia could probably sense it. 

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, offering you the bag. 

Slowly, you reach out to take it, the white tissue paper that sticks out of the top crinkling beneath your fingers. You give Eddie a polite smile and start to leave, but Luke stops you in your tracks.

“You gotta open it!”

A nod is the only response you can give Luke, not trusting your voice—or even knowing what you’d say. Biting your lip, you ruffle through the pristine white tissue paper and pull out a pair of earrings fastened to an earring card. They’re beautiful. Three tiny hearts stacked on top of each other, all purple and connected by silver chain links. The urge to put them on immediately is strong, 

“The hearts…one’s for Ryan, one’s for Luke, and one’s for, um, me,” Eddie explains bashfully as he slips his hands into his pockets. 

Your eyes fill with tears, a cacophony of emotions in each drop. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, bending down to hug Luke and Ryan. You stand up and face Eddie, feeling the boys’ eyes drilling into you as they wait for you to embrace their dad like you always do. 

You lean in and give him a small hug, lingering for an extra moment. He smells of motor oil and sweat, but you can’t get enough. It’s a test of wills to tear yourself away from him. As you pull back, a tight smile forms on your face.

“I should get going,” you tell them kindly.

“Where’re you going?” Luke asks. 

You ruffle his hair lovingly. “My friends are having a birthday party for me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Or,” Ryan offers, dragging out the word, “we could treat you to dinner tomorrow.”

Luke grins. “Can we go to McDonalds?”

You can’t help but laugh. The boys bring you more humor and joy than they could possibly imagine. 

“You boys are too much sometimes,” you tell them. If you’re being honest, you would love to spend time with them and Eddie, even if it’s just eating fast food. Anywhere with the three of them becomes its own adventure. It breaks your heart knowing there’s still this friction between you and Eddie and you’re not exactly on speaking terms. You can’t dwell on it, though. Not tonight.

When you arrive at the bar, it’s bursting with people. Groups have gathered to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, clinking oversized mugs teeming with foamy beer. It’s much noisier than you’d normally prefer, but you’re glad for the excess sound to drown out your thoughts. 

Jess spots you immediately and waves you over to where she, Lily, and Paul are sitting in front of the bartender. As soon as you plop down on a stool, Lily places a sash around you. 

“It’s my 21st birthday? Really?”

“Well, it is!” she quips with a laugh. “Besides, people will totally buy you drinks if you wear this.”

She isn’t wrong. You take shot after shot, eventually losing track of the total amount. A tiny voice in your head reminds you not to mix light and dark liquor, but it’s too late for that. 

Your friends keep toasting to the ‘birthday girl,’ which prompts more people to cheer and offer to treat you to another round. By the time you get up to dance, your head is spinning. 

You sway along to Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ until you can no longer stand. Jess is kindly letting you lean on her, her arm wrapped around your waist, when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” an unfamiliar voice asks, tone laced with sultriness. 

You turn around to see a guy about your age, a ten-dollar bill between his pointer and middle fingers. 

“Oh, I-I shouldn’t,” you start, but Lily jumps in instead. 

“She would love that.” She smiles at him, then whispers in your ear, “the best way to get over Eddie is to get under someone else.” She sticks out her hand to the mystery man and introduces both herself and you. I don’t want to get over Eddie, your brain thinks before drunkenly attempting to focus on what the man in front of you is saying now.

Mystery Man smiles. “I’m Stefon.”

Unbeknownst to you, one Wayne Munson is watching the entire encounter from across the bar. It isn’t his usual digs, but the guys from the plant invited him out for drinks to celebrate the holiday, and he obliged. 

He sees you take another drink with trepidation, a young man resting his hand on your hip. It seems like you’re barely aware of what’s going on, sending a queasiness through Wayne’s stomach that definitely isn’t from the alcohol. He’s used to minding his business, but when the guy puts his arm around you, he makes the decision to call Eddie from the payphone. 

Just under fifteen minutes later, Eddie is pushing his way into the smoky and boisterous bar, eyes anxiously scanning for you. A surge of relief floods his veins when he sees your beautiful familiar face amongst the sea of green clothing, but the feeling is short-lived when he sees you leaning on a strange man. 

It’s hard to tell if you’re aware that you’re leaning on him or not, because you’re talking to Lily animatedly. The man has his eyes glued to you, but he may or may not be on your radar. Your boyfriend isn’t waiting to find out, though. Eddie’s met your friend Paul who you’re out with tonight, so he immediately knows it isn’t him with you and Lily, so he shoves his way through the crowd and shoulders the mystery man out of the way and gently holds your arm to steady you. 

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Eddie says, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd and music. He’s doing his best to be inconspicuous but you’re too drunk for that.

“Eddie!” You fling your arms around him in a hug and let out a loud and giddy laugh. Eddie feels a small surge of pride when you seem to forget all about the guy standing there—if you’d even remembered he was there to begin with. When he looks into your eyes, he can see the glassiness from the alcohol as well as glee that seeing him caused. “Eddie, what’re you doing here? You didn’t wan’ be here!” 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling a lung full of secondhand smoke. “You need water and sleep, baby,” he says, trying to be heard over the music.

“But it’s my party!” you whine, giving an exaggerated pout. “An’ you didn’t come ‘cuz you don’t love me.”

His brows shoot up as his heart falls. “I don’t love you?” Obviously, you’re drunk but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Nuh-uh.” You scrunch your nose. “Maybe you do, ‘cuz you’re here now.” Your frown quickly flips to a drunken smile. “We should dance! ‘Cuz you love me!”

Eddie tilts his head, giving you a skeptical look. “I thought you said I didn’t.” 

“But you came here to see me, so you do,” you explain as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. The fact that you’re swaying where you stand doesn’t help your credibility though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see the man you were leaning on finally slink away. Apparently, he only needed to hear the confirmation that Eddie does indeed love you.

“Let me take you home, princess,” Eddie says, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“That sounds like a line,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by a hiccup. 

“It’s probably the most chivalrous thing anyone’s said to you tonight,” Eddie says, looking around at the other men in the bar like they’re vultures, ready to step in and claim you for their own. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you lament with an over dramatic sigh. “But just cause you’re so cute.” You giggle again as you lean against Eddie. 

At least she’s leaning against me now, he thinks bitterly. Too exasperated for more words, Eddie just presses a kiss to the top of your head and laces his fingers with yours—tightly, so he won’t lose you in the crowded bar. 

Eddie catches Jess’s eye where she’s leaning against the bar and nods towards the door, letting her know that he’s taking you home. She nods in return and gives a thumbs up. Eddie scans the crowd to see if he can spot his uncle, but there’s just too many people.

“Hey, you’re not wearin’ green,” you say once you’re outside in the cool night air. The air feels fresh yet too silent after being in that stuffy place. 

“Hmm?” Eddie hums as he helps you into the passenger’s seat.

“No green! Is St. Pagrick Day though!”

“Your birthday is a far more important holiday,” he says as he closes the door for you. He doesn’t even consider if you heard the words or not, it was his inner monologue just coming out. 

The drive back to the apartment starts off with you chattering on, still feeling good from the drinks.

“It’s so cute that the boys wanna buy me MiDonal’s! They’re the sweetest boys ever. Where are we goin’? Oh, hey! You’re movin’ into your new aparment soon. Do you still wan’ me to—hey look, a dog!—wan’ me to go shopping for the stuff that you need? Eddie? Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I don’t like when we fight. I never wanna fight witchu. I love you! I never loved no one before, ya know. Just you! I was only bein’ such a pain in the butt because I wanna be by your side. Like partners. Wanna help you and have fun with you and do all the things with you. I hope you wanna be that with me too! Like Bonnie and Clyde! But no stealing or dying. Do you, hey, hey Eddie, do you remember that time a long time ago you said you liked that blue shirt I wore? Ya know, the one with the buttons and sleeves? Well, now it’s my favorite—”

Eddie glances over, concerned that your speech—that was highly amusing to him—stopped so abruptly. You’re just looking up at the streetlights as they pass, your eyes getting heavier by the second, the mesmerizing sight lulling you to sleep.

Eddie chuckles to himself and the rest of the drive is quiet.

When you finally arrive back at the apartment, you’re practically comatose in the passenger seat. Eddie half carries you up the stairs and holds you close to his side with one arm while he unlocks the door with the other.

Somehow, he manages to get you laying down on your bed without bumping into anything on the way. You look up at him with a sleepy smile that Eddie swears is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m gonna help you change, okay? I don’t think that dress will be comfortable to sleep in.”

You nod absentmindedly as Eddie grabs a pair of your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Eddie is an expert at undressing you by now but it’s harder when your body can’t even hold itself up. The green dress gets stuck on your nose as Eddie pulls it off over your head and it makes you giggle, though it’s much softer than your laughter in the car. He slips your pink plaid pajama bottoms over your white lace panties and chuckles to himself as he sees he pulled a Rugrats t-shirt out of your drawer. An amused smile grows on his face as he shakes his head.

“Better?” he asks.

A big yawn accompanies the nod that you give him. Satisfied that you’re not going to fall over if he lets go, Eddie walks towards the head of the bed so he can pull your blankets down. It takes both of you working together to get you beneath the blankets.

Once you’re settled, Eddie shucks himself out of his jeans and t-shirt and climbs in bed next to you. Without any hesitation, you scoot over and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your head.

Eddie isn't sure if in the morning, once you’ve sobered up, you’ll still be fighting or not. He doesn’t want to be, but he also knows the issues haven’t been resolved between the two of you. What you said tonight about Eddie not loving you definitely has to be addressed tomorrow—whether you were drunk or not when you said it, he doesn’t care. 

Soft snores begin to fill your room and Eddie smiles to himself. His eyes slip closed, and he holds you a little tighter against his body.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says into the darkness.

You wake up the next morning with a dull headache. It definitely could be worse, especially considering how much you’d drank last night. 

There’s two Tylenol and a bottle of water on your nightstand, none of which you remember putting there…

You shift positions and see Eddie curled up on the pillow next to you, wearing just his boxers. Soft snores punctuate the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Eddie?” you whisper, eyes wide. 

He stirs and stretches, giving you a small smile. 

“Morning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um, just a headache. Not too much of a hangover.” You’re working to figure out exactly why he’s here. 

He grins. “Must be nice to be 21,” he jokes. “I have one beer too many and I’m out of commission for a week.”

You’re too focused on the maybe-boyfriend-shaped elephant in the room to laugh at his joke. Instead, you take a deep breath and muster up all of your courage. 

“Did we, um…”

Eddie pulls back. “No. Nope!” He shakes his head. “I brought you home and we fell asleep. I promise.”

You nod, relief flooding your body. “Okay. Okay, good.” You swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“I’ll make some breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” 

You get out of bed and stretch your muscles before heading towards the door. But first you stop and look back at Eddie. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”

“No,” Eddie assures you. “Your knight in shining leather got there before anything could happen.” He flexes his muscles dramatically, which causes you to chuckle as you step out of your room and into the bathroom. 

Eddie puts his clothes from yesterday back on and heads out to the kitchen. He makes pancakes, and you come out of your room freshly showered and dressed just as they’re ready. 

“Smells good,” you say, rubbing at your eye. The shower helped wake you up, but your body is still tired from last night. 

You and Eddie sit down across from one another and start eating in silence before you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, where are the boys?” you ask, desperate for some semblance of an interaction.

“Harrington’s,” Eddie answers before shoving a mouthful of syrup-covered pancake into his mouth. “Steve and Nance said they got them, I should go to you.”

“And, uh, why did you show up? I mean, did you change your mind about celebrating with us or..?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “Wayne was, um, actually at the bar last night with some guys from his work. He saw some assholes starting to get handsy with you, so he called me.”

“Oh.” You stay quiet as you move a few pieces of pancake around on your plate. 

You had hoped Eddie had changed his mind and wanted to spend your birthday night with you after all, but he was only there because his uncle called him. 

Eddie bites his lower lip, hating the tension in the air. The two of you used to sit in comfortable silences with one another, so this is excruciating.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie says before pausing to clear his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with you. Because I did. I do. I always do. I just, I don’t know, thought I’d bring the party down. I didn’t want you to feel like I was supervision or some shit like that. And I wasn’t sure how I’d meld in with your friends.”

“Eddie,” you start before taking a deep breath. “I never think of you as some authority type figure. You’re just Eddie. Like, yeah, maybe you’re twelve years older than me, but I don’t really feel like there’s this chasm between us or anything. Do…do you?”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, making sure he picks his words carefully so as not to give you a wrong impression. “When it’s you and me? No. When it’s us and the boys? No. But when it comes to you hanging out with your friends, I guess I feel, I don’t know, like I don’t belong.”

“Belong where?”

He sighs and twirls one of his rings around his finger as a nervous twitch. “When I see your friends it’s this reminder that I’m not your age. It feels like all the shit that I try not to let bother me is unavoidable as I see you with guys it would be more socially acceptable for you to date. Or seeing your girl friends going off to do things with their boyfriends that I can’t because of my job and kids. It makes me feel selfish.” His eyes mist over for a second. “Like I’m keeping you from that.”

“Eddie, no one is keeping me from anything. Especially you. You act like I don’t have a choice or say in this. I’m pretty sure you didn’t kidnap me and rope me into an arranged marriage or something.” You give a small smile, hoping to ease some of the frustration radiating off of him. “I don’t want someone my age. I don’t want someone younger. I don’t want someone older that isn’t you.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. “I swear, I do. I guess I’ve had a number done on me, though. Got beaten down enough that the insecurity comes second nature. It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t have to pay for things that she did.”

“Can I beat her?”

He chuckles and seeing him smile makes a genuine one grow on your own face.

“She’s not worth it,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “But I see where you were coming from with being upset. It probably did seem like I just didn’t want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sorry. I also get where you’re coming from with the court stuff. Wanting to be by my side. Princess, you have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly. I just…I don’t want you to have to be in the middle of all of that.”

“I know,” you say, lowering your eyes back down to your plate. “I’m sorry, too. I was overstepping when it came to Brittany. That’s your ordeal, you get to call the shots when it comes to that. I only want you to know that you have my support. In whatever way you need it.”

He reaches across the table and slips his hand into yours. “I promise to tell you in what ways I’ll need your support through this whole thing.”

You nod and give his hand a small squeeze. The air around you feels lighter and it’s as if weights have been lifted off your shoulders. 

“Are—Are we okay?” you ask, wanting to clarify.

“We’re more than okay,” he reassures you as he returns your hand squeeze with one of his own. “But there is something else we need to talk about.”

“Sure. What?”

He sighs and gently taps your entwined hands against the tabletop. “Last night…when I got to the bar to pick you up, you, um, you said something. I know you were drunk but it still hurt.”

Immediately you feel mortified. Did I really…?

“I thought you said I didn’t do anything stupid?”

“Well, this was saying something stupid.”

How bad was it that it’s making him stall like this? “What did I say?” You wince, afraid to hear what you might’ve said in your inebriated state.

“You, uh, you said that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t come to the bar with you and your friends because I don’t love you.”

Your eyes are immediately flooded with tears. The heartbreak and shame you feel for uttering something so absurd cuts you deeply, and you push yourself out of your chair and walk around the table to Eddie. He scoots back so you can perch yourself in his lap. 

Gently, you cup Eddie’s face in your hands and stare into his eyes. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Please always remember that. Sober, drunk, high, or otherwise in an altered state…I love you. I am so sorry I said that to you. It amazes me that somehow you love me, but that doesn’t mean I doubt it for a second.”

Eddie nods and wraps his arms around your waist. Your shirt rides up a little and his syrupy fingers rub against your skin—but you couldn’t care less.

“You’re mine,” you tell him. “I’m yours. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” Eddie agrees.

The two of you sit there together for a few silent minutes before Jess’s door creaks open and she shuffles into the kitchen, looking far worse than you felt when you woke up. She gives a half-hearted wave, as if even that small movement was too much for her. 

Eddie smiles and nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “I made a stack of pancakes for you,” he says.

Jess heads towards the counter but pauses to put a hand on your shoulder. “If you don’t marry him, I will,” she vows. 

Deciding to play hooky from school and work didn’t take much convincing for you or Eddie. You’re not feeling great, and he’s more than happy to take care of you. 

You’re washing the breakfast dishes while Eddie stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y’know,” he murmurs just under your ear, “I had another birthday surprise up my sleeve.”

He pulls you closer, and you try—and fail—to focus on the task at hand. “And what’s that?”

He smirks and presses soft kisses into your neck. “Well, I bought a bottle of champagne,” he says, “and I figured we could have some drunk sex?”

You snap off the water and dry your hands, spinning to face him. “And where is this bottle of champagne, handsome?”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Um, at the Harringtons’ place,” he admits. “But we could still do the sex part, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You press your body to his, grinning widely. “Bedroom?”

“Hell yes.”

Clothes are shed instantly, leaving a trail that leads to your room. You lay back on the bed and Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting his leg between yours and kissing you softly. 

“Let me take care of my birthday girl, hm?” he coos, nibbling on your ear. He chuckles when you whimper, two of his thick fingers trailing downward towards your pussy. “Oh, you poor thing. Needy already?”

“Mhm.”

He grins, scooting back and pressing his lips just above your clit. His tongue grazes your folds, over the sensitive bud, and he sucks on it gently. You moan when he positions your legs on his shoulders. “Keep making those noises, baby.”

You eagerly oblige, whining as he slips his middle finger into your pussy, tongue remaining trained on your clit. The overstimulation has you grinding against his face, desperate to get some relief. 

He wraps his free hand around your thigh and squeezes it, bringing himself even closer into you. Muffled, barely audible fucks and tastes goods escape his lips, driving you even wilder. 

“E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you mewl, fingers digging into the bed sheets. He continues lapping at your cunt until you’re screaming his name. 

Eddie pulls back, face shiny with your slick. “Need you,” he growls, and his painfully hard cock bobs in agreement. 

He crawls up your body, pressing kisses to your soft flesh as he makes his way towards your neck. Teeth gently graze the side of your throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

Taking advantage of your legs spread openly before him, Eddie settles himself between them and lines his cock up with your soaking entrance. It feels like it takes an eternity until he finally bottoms out, making you feel so full and revel in that exquisite stretch. 

Sweat breaks out along your hairline and it melds with Eddie’s as he rests his forehead against yours. The bed beneath you shakes as your body rocks with your boyfriend’s. A slight tilt of his hips has your hands scrambling against the lilac sheet below you, desperate to hold on to something—anything. Eddie wants you to hold on to him, though. His pale toned arms seek out your own until he slips his hands into yours and threads your fingers together. Never breaking eye contact even for a second, Eddie holds your hands up above your head, staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. He’s not smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes and the way his lips part just slightly only adds to your enjoyment. 

“I love you, sweet girl,” Eddie says, voice low and husky in the small space you’re both occupying. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“L-Love you, too, Eds.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his hips roll up against yours. “You have the cutest nose. I hope any kids we have inherit that from you.”

With every thrust of Eddie’s hips, he lists another thing he loves about you.

“Your lips are so soft. Sometimes I get torn between kissing them or staring at them. And your laugh? God, you have no idea what that does to me. It’s so infectious and bubbly and completely genuine. One of the best sounds in the world.”

There’s nothing else in the world right now other than Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s body. All that exists is the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as pleasurable groans and whimpers fall from your lips. Sweet sighs and shared breath connect you both, adding to the already dizzying intimacy. You stare up into those large brown eyes and for that moment everything is perfect in the world. The moment belongs to you, and nothing will ever take it from you. 

Eddie leans in to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulls away only far enough for you to fix your gazes on one another’s eyes again. His hip thrusts are becoming increasingly erratic, a sign that he’s nearing his finish. 

Curls sway back and forth around his face, like a curtain keeping you two separated from everything else. 

More than anything, you know what’s going to have you reaching your high is the locked stares you share. Eddie looks so intently into your eyes, as if he’ll find answers to all of his problems in them. It’s sexier than any words either of you could possibly vocalize. The look says so much more than your voices ever could. 

“I’m close,” you tell him in a rough whisper. Your fingers tighten on his and Eddie’s hips rock slightly harder into yours.

“Me too, baby.”

The urge to close your eyes floats over you as your impending orgasm gets closer by the second, but you refuse. Even blinking is too long to look away from the eyes of the man you love. Eddie agrees, never taking those brown beauties off of you as he feels his release closing in.

“Eddie,” you whimper, more just needing to say his name than anything else. “Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

“I know, my love.” 

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you slur.

“With me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out more than speak. 

All it takes is two more thrusts before Eddie’s spilling into you. Him coating your walls with his release is enough to have you falling headfirst into your euphoria as well. 

Both of you ride it out together, trying to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it that you could from one another. By the lazy smiles you give one another as you try and catch your breaths, you’d say that you both enjoyed it very much.

Eddie leans down and presses a sweet but sensuous kiss to your lips before begrudgingly pulling out of you. Neither of you like it, so you’re quick to cuddle up to one another, desperate to have your arms wrapped around the warm skin of his middle. 

“That was…wow,” you say after a few minutes of companionable silence. 

“Very wow,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Y’know, there’s something else I’d like to add to that list, now that I have blood flowing to my brain.”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Just when I think it can’t get any bigger or warmer, you prove me wrong time and time again. The kindness and generosity that you have is something I’ve never seen in another person. You’re so amazingly you and I’ve been enchanted by it since the day I met you.  Sometimes I feel like this is all a fairytale except the prince is the one constantly swept off his feet.”

“The princess is too,” you assure him through increasingly labored breath. “Very, very swept.”

Letting your suddenly heavy eyes slip closed, you tuck your head beneath Eddie’s chin and revel in his touch. A nap with you in his arms sounds like heaven right now, but Eddie knows there’s something he has to say before he forgets.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your sleepy voice brings a smile to his face.

“Luke asked me to bring over McDonalds.”

“C’mon, let’s go hit the drive-thru.” 

You move to get up, but Eddie keeps you right where you are.

“Not yet. Naps first. Food for gremlins later.”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his bare chest. 

“Naps first,” you agree.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

[emmyrosee]

When you open your door, there’s a trail of rose petals adorning the other side of the threshold, leading down the hallway and into the kitchen.

There’s also a flurry of smoke coming from the room, and yuuji’s little “damn, shoot, crap!”’s give his location away. With haste, you toss your bag to the side and dash to the kitchen, covering your mouth and using your free hand to wave the smoke. It’s a miracle the smoke alarm wasn’t going off. “Yuuji!”

“BABE!” He squeaks, jumping nearly a foot in the air with his eyes wide as saucers. “What’re you doing here! You’re not supposed to be home until-“ brown eyes dart to the clock on the oven “….crap.” He pouts, “welcome home.”

You nudge your head towards the plate of… something that was potentially edible at one point, “you wanna talk about it, champ?”

“I thought maybe we could decorate cookies and watch a movie,” he sighs. “But I went to go set up the tv and everything, and then kimchi was barking to go for a walk and I completely forgot to turn off the oven, and yeah I’m glad the house isn’t ash by now but I’m still bummed I burned them-“

“Honey, baby,” you soothe, making your way over to him and gently cupping his cheeks. You smile and kiss his nose, “first of all- hi. I missed you. I love you. Number two, we can put frosting on some Oreos or something, don’t sweat it. I’m just flattered you thought of doing anything, and I’m super glad that you and our dog are safe.”

This, finally, has him perking up, and you can see the excitement brewing once again, “of course!! I asked Fushiguro for a cookie recipe and everything! I wanted to do something special for you!”

Your brows raise and you take one of the charred cookies, “made these yourself?” To make him feel even better, you take a bite out of the burned treat, chewing it nonchalantly while the taste of smoke bites your tastebuds.

It’s arguably one of the most disgusting things you’ve assaulted your sensory with, but you try to keep it from showing too much as you chew. Even through the crunch of char, you can somehow taste cinnamon and sugar.

You can also taste the love and attention he put into this, how excited he was to make you something to enjoy, rather than buying you something- which he also does frequently, but the homemade treat more than makes up for potentially not getting you one this Valentine’s Day.

“I love you,” you hum, swallowing before angling your face up to kiss him. He happily reciprocates the kiss, and from the living room, you hear the jingle of a dog collar trot towards you.

“I love you too,” he assures, leaning down to take a bite of the cookie in your hand.

He chews briefly before his face drops in disgust.

“Oh. Wow.”

You giggle, “not your best work.”

“Yeah that awful, don’t eat that.”

#I’ve been in a yuuji mood and wanted to get something out for today 🩷 #yuuji itadori #yuuji itadori fluff #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x reader fluff #yuuji itadori x gn!reader #yuuji itadori imagine #yuuji itadori jjk #itadori #itadori fluff #itadori x reader #itadori x reader fluff #itadori x gn!reader #itadori imagine #itadori jjk #yuuji #yuuji fluff #yuuji x reader #yuuji x reader fluff #yuuji x gn!reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk imagine #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x yn #jjk x you

[noahsresources]

more cringy dirty & flirty pick-up lines sentence starters

this is extremely self-indulgent, don't mind me lmfao. feel free to use these for whatever you want and change any details that need to be.

❝ you're so hot, my zipper is falling for you. ❞ ❝ i love my bed, but i'd rather be in yours. ❞ ❝ nice outfit. it'd look even better if it were on my bedroom floor. ❞ ❝ roses are red, violets are fine. you be the six, and i'll be the nine. ❞ ❝ do you have any room for an extra tongue in your mouth? ❞ ❝ if you're feeling down, i can feel you up. ❞ ❝ my ideal body weight is yours on mine. ❞ ❝ your belt looks really tight. can i loosen it for you? ❞ ❝ there are 206 bones in your body. think you can handle another one? ❞ ❝ let's play carpenter so i can nail you. ❞ ❝ i'd tell you a joke about my dick, but ... it's too long. ❞ ❝ hey, i might be wasted, but the condom in my pocket doesn't have to be. ❞ ❝ i may not go down in history, but i'll go down on you. ❞ ❝ you must be a chicken farmer because you know exactly how to raise my cock. ❞ ❝ sorry, what's your name again? i want to get it right when i shout it later. ❞ ❝ you must be an elevator because i want to go up and down on you all day. ❞ ❝ i'd love to kiss those beautiful, luscious lips. and the ones on your face. ❞ ❝ if you were a toe, i'd bang you on every wall, table, and chair in this bar. ❞ ❝ sit on my lap, and let's talk about the first thing that pops up. ❞ ❝ do you work for UPS? 'cause you've got a fantastic package. ❞ ❝ want to play a game? i'll be the squirrel, you be the tree, and i'll bust a nut in your hole. ❞ ❝ your legs are like an oreo cookie. i wanna split them and eat all the good stuff in the middle. ❞ ❝ i bet i can touch your belly button ... from the inside. ❞ ❝ how do you feel about doing some math in the bedroom? all you need to do is add me, subtract your clothes, divide your legs, and we can multiply. ❞ ❝ remember my name, because you'll be screaming it later. ❞ ❝ my doctor told me i have a vitamin d deficiency. wanna go back to my place and save me? ❞ ❝ if i flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head? ❞ ❝ my dick's been feeling a little dead lately. wanna give it some mouth-to-mouth? ❞ ❝ i'm no weather man, but you can expect more than a few inches tonight. ❞ ❝ is your name medusa? because the moment you look at me, i get rock hard. ❞ ❝ can you tell me what time your legs open, please? ❞ ❝ are you a rubix cube? because the more i play with you the harder you get. ❞ ❝ you look too god for a pickup line, so let's cut to the chase — wanna fuck? ❞

#rp ask memes #rp ask meme #rp memes #rp starters #rp starter #ask meme #ask memes #flirty prompts #flirty memes #crack prompts #crack memes #smut prompts #smut memes #cheesy prompts #cheesy memes #romance #silly #smut #memes #mine

[insimniacreations]

IHOP Custom Food Part 3 - Crepes & Waffles

Dine Out is Required for the Restaurant! If you don't have Dine Out, you can get the food through Insimnia Eats only.

Menu:

Breakfast Crepes

Buttermilk Waffle

Chicken & Waffles

Cinnamon Bun Crepes

Oreo Cookie Crumble Waffle

Chicken Pesto Crepes

Strawberry Cheesecake Waffle 

More info on the Patreon mod post on Required Files, How to Install etc.

Terms of Use

Please be respectful and do not release my early access content. They are only early access and will be free.

Please do not include my items in uploaded builds. Link back to my Patreon page for others to download separately

Please do not recolor, convert, and/or edit my meshes

DOWNLOAD

Now on Early Access. Public Release: 3/5 @ 7pm EST

#sims4 custom content #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 mods #sims 4 food #sims4cc #sims alpha #sims4 #sims 4 cc #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 alpha #sims 4 alpha cc #sims 4 custom recipes #ts4ccfinds #ts4 ts4cc #ts4 cc #ts4cc #sims4food #ts4 alpha #alpha cc #sims 4 rp #sims4ediblefood #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 story #sims4customfood #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 creator #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 early access #sims 4 base game

[indulgentjax]

an oreo snack

You crack open the bag of Oreos thinking you'll just have a few. You just want a taste. You've already eaten so much today, and you're trying not to overdo it…too much. These snacks need to at least last until tomorrow, and you're running out of them quickly.

You eat the first, trying to take your time, but it tastes so good. Before you're even done chewing the second, you're already greedily reaching for a third. The sensation of eating them is so delicious and fulfilling, you don't want it to end. And for that sensation to keep going, well…you have to keep eating. So you do.

You eat and eat, crumbs falling around you, gobbling almost mindlessly yet still casually aware of each cookie you eat until you've hit the end of the first row. You lick your fingers and take a deep breath in and out, feeling uncomfortably full. This is the way it usually goes. You know how much you're eating in the back of your mind, but the sense to stop simply isn't there. That must be where this swollen gut came from; the one that's hanging down, gently resting on the couch between your legs in front of you. Isn't it?

That belly, so soft and heavy, stuffed full so much of the time. The only way you know when to stop is when you're groaning and uncomfortably full, knowing full well that you can't possibly take anymore. But you know you're not there quite yet, there's still some room. You start on the second row.

As you make your way through the second row of cookies, you start to slow down a bit. Your belly is stuffed, and you let out a moan as you feel all that food stretch you out to feel so big and bloated. It's obvious how stuffed full you are - your shirt has slowly ridden up to expose your increasingly round gut. At this point, that last row of cookies feels like a stretch. It might be too much. But you can't help yourself - what's a few more?

You start on the last row, not knowing where you'll fit the rest of them in that big, full belly, stuffed to the brim. You're panting between bites now, so full that you're barely able to catch a breath. As you miraculously finish the last cookie, you fall back into the couch, the empty package as evidence of what you've done to yourself, unable to think about anything but how stuffed you are.

You put hands on your belly to relieve some of that pressure, starting to feel the relief as you rub and squeeze that aching gut. All of the sudden, you let out a huge burp and feel just a little of that bloated feeling fade. This time, no one was around to see you make such a pig of yourself or hear the embarrassing sound of your burp, but you hope maybe next time, someone will be.

#wg text #weight gain fiction #gaining weight on purpose #feeding kink #feedee encouragement #feedee belly #gaining fiction #wg writing #weight gain story #fat belly

[atinylittlepain]

SAWEEET BABY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH! THE DBF!JOEL WEILURHWLEIRHWEIRWE! That was incredible! Could we have oneshot of the lead up to them fucking in Joel's truck? 👀👀👀👀😍😍😍😍😍

hahahahahah wooh! i'm glad you asked - here is the ooey gooey middle of the Ride It oreo cookie, enjoy :)

Let's Take a Ride

No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

warnings | 18+ smutty language, dbf!Joel, age gap

.............................

“Aren’t you cold, honey?” Truthfully, she is, barefoot in the gravel of the highway shoulder, her heels tossed into the backseat a while ago, in nothing but the short dress she had gone out in. But Joel’s gaze is warming her up just fine.

“I’m ok, Joel. Thank you for coming to get me.” He sighs, stepping closer to inspect the flat on her back tire, letting out a low whistle as he kneels down to take a closer look.

“More than a flat tire. The whole rim is busted. Just how fast were you going?” She flushes hard under his pointed look. So maybe she had been speeding when she accidentally hit a curb. But mistakes happen, right?

“Um, I don’t know?” He huffs, getting up from his kneeling position with a groan and wiping his hands off on his jeans. He cocks his head at her, crossing his broad arms over his chest. She swallows hard at the flex of his biceps.

“You been drinking tonight, honey?” When all she offers him in response is an anxious smile, he clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“I’m not drunk. I had a drink with some friends. It’s not like that’s a crime. I am of age, y’know.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Her brow furrows at his sighed out words. What’s that supposed to mean?

“Are you telling me you got all dressed up like that just for some friends, honey?” That question shocks her silent, and he chuckles at her slack expression, stepping closer until she can feel the heat radiating off him. He lets a single finger skate along the neckline of her dress before hooking it under one of the straps, tugging her in until she’s pressing her palms against his solid chest to stop herself from stumbling.

“Tell me this, honey. Why’d you call me, of all people, to come help you?” She can smell lingering whiskey on his breath. He’s been around her dad’s house enough times for her to know he likes a nightcap, a little hit of warmth to end the day. That mixed with the scent of him - cedar and sweat, and smoke from the cigarette habit he swears he’s trying to break - is sending her mind into a haze, and she’s finding it hard to answer his question.

“Because, um– because you– um–” He chuckles again, cutting off her mumbling with a wicked crook of a grin on his face.

“It’s alright, honey. You can just say it, huh? I know what you want.” Is this really happening?

“You– you do?” He nods, bringing his other hand to tilt her chin up, keeping her gaze on his.

“You think I haven’t noticed? Can practically feel you burning a hole through my back with the way you look at me, honey. What a sweet little thing like you wants with an old man like me is beyond me.” The finger he kept hooked in the strap of her dress is running the arc of it, back and forth, back and forth, the graze of his skin against hers making her shiver.

“You’re not that old.” That makes him laugh, his eyes crinkling up and his smile broadening at her.

“Don’t think I’m too old for you?” Albeit hesitantly, she shakes her head no.

“Think you can handle me, honey? Bet I ride a little different than them college boys of yours.” Her stomach twists at the implication of his words, and she thinks she’d melt on the spot if he wasn’t still firmly holding her chin in place.

“I can handle it.” She tries to sound as confident as possible, but her voice still ends up coming out a bit meek, almost a whine. Joel just grins, dipping his head down to nose along her cheek, his lips finding the shell of her ear. The low drawl of his words goes straight through her, pooling heat in her core.

“We’ll see about that, honey. Why don’t you be a dear and open that car door for me. We’re gonna take a little ride together.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller au

[hoesformatt]

SECURE WITH YOU

chris fluff/blurb, this shit is cutesy and gushy at the end + TWO STORIES IN A DAY?!?!

bf!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 0.6k

summary: you and you’re boyfriend Chris are hanging out together when you get to a point that you’re about to have sex but you feel uncomfortable so he comforts you

I laid on my stomach close to half-naked after my shower, on Chris’ bed opening my phone to go through instagram stories before Chris make a loud entry.

He held Ritz crackers, sodas and cookies in his hands throwing them on his bed all around me, one of the crackers hitting and bouncing off my ass. “I’m finally i’m the cookie monster” He quickly opens the oreo pack, feverishly eating them.

Chris jumps onto the bed along with me lying his head on my ass like a pillow “This is the fucking life” he cracked open a Pepsi seconds before taking a sip of it while pulling out an oreo. He stared up at the wall as the colors of his led lights changed smoothly.

He placed down the can, coming up from the bed and searching through his dresser, hissing out a “yes” once he found what he’s looking for. A tech deck. Chris admired the details on the back of the miniature skateboard that had writing on the back.

“I haven’t played with one of these ever since highschool— Lookit” It was the tech deck I accidentally rolled to Chris in freshman year and he never gave it back it wrote in his writing ‘Thanks for the tech’ and in mine ‘you’re an asshole’ Smiles of satisfaction beamed from him with the memories.

He sat the tech deck on my back, racing it up and down to my ass doing tricks. I watched him play like a small child being so focused on the wheels and the way the board flipped around.

“How long are you going to play with that” He finally looked up at me “until you take it away from me” I snatched it away and he made a whiny face lying the side of his face on my butt patting and kneading my ass.

Chris tugged at the band to my ethika’s “Can I take it off?” I paused unsure even though Chris would never judge me about the way I look. He’s my boyfriend for a reason he’s never made me feel bad about how I treat myself self-consciously.

I nod my head slowly, biting my lip while helped pull off my shorts, feeling his stubbled chin upon my bare skin. Chris’ warm fingers grazed my subtle stretch marks as he adored my body. Hands roaming my body, finding new places to explore and I enjoyed his touch. Chris’ hand snuck under my shirt and I stopped him “what’s wrong? do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay— I just don’t really want to take off my shirt” He refrained from touching me “oh baby, you know I will never judge you?— if you still don’t want to continue it’s fine” I chose not to remove my clothes and keeping my body closed off for the moment, feeling comfort but also that I let Chris—my boyfriend of 3 years down “i’m sorry” I said silently.

“Baby it’s fine, what matters is that you’re comfortable” He brought me to his lap locking eyes “if you say so” Chris fake pouted before attacking me with kisses while tickling me.

Our sweet giggles warmed my heart like a Frank Ocean song as we found ourselves lying on the bed facing each other, I appreciated his features; the icy eyes that feel warm to me, his bubblegum pink lips that are as sweet, the scruff around his chin and jawline that’s ruff against my fingers and this brown locks of hair that compliments and softens his masculine face. A face so real with so much expression the music changed smoothly as we leaned in and kissed each other.

“You’re the realest girl I’ve ever put my lips on”

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss

#chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fan fiction #fan fic #hoesformatt #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #riyahspeaks #christopher sturniolo fluff #Spotify

[gentlyweeps-world]

american day

summary: you surprise logan with a day for him

pairing: logan sargeant x fem! not american!reader

warnings: none

genre: fluff | rom-com | cheesy

notes: I’m so sorry if this is too cheesy or stupid, but I loved the idea 🫶

words: 1.1k

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You knew Logan had been feeling down, not himself and certainly not in a good mental place.

Spending thanksgiving and the Fourth of July racing.

You weren’t from America, but you certainly knew those were staples for him.

So of course being the amazing girlfriend you are, decided to throw him an “American Day” when there was a break in between race weekends.

You picked a day when Logan was busy with training, so you could prepare all of the food you wanted and decorate your apartment with the most American things you could find..

Sure, maybe it was a bit cheesy! But you loved him and he deserved it.

“Babe..what is this?” Logan asks, walking into the kitchen and spotting pumpkin pie, hamburgers and hotdogs. Honestly it was just all of the most American food you could find and make.

“It’s your American Day!” You say with a smile, turning to face him. “I thought I would surprise you with it!”

“You did all of this for me Y/n?” Logan’s eyes widen with surprise as he sees all the American themed food on the table.

“You really did all of this?”

Logan begins to walk around the food, taking it all in as the smell of various grilled and toasted food fills the air.

“You didn’t have to do this sweetie…” He says, his voice laced with both gratitude and slight guilt.

“Of course I did Log..” You say with a warm smile, “You’ve been stressed, and I know you haven’t been yourself lately, don’t lie..”

“I wanted to do something special for you” You add on.

“Thank you…” Logan says, giving you a sincere smile as his guilt starts to dissipate.

“You really did all of this for me,” he says again, this time in more disbelief than before.

“You’re the best…” Logan says, giving you a hug as his body calms down.

It hasn’t been the best for him in regards to F1, and being away from home definitely didn’t help things either.

So the fact that you did all of this to help him out definitely means the world to him.

“Okay, okay. How about we eat?” You say with a grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

So that’s what you two did, you questioned some of the odd choices, but let Logan enjoy it nonetheless.

“Okay no- that’s not good! How- how do you even enjoy that?” You ask, giving Logan a weird look as he sprays cheese whiz onto some crackers.

“That’s the beauty of it!” Logan responds with a smile, chewing on the crackers and cheese whiz combo.

“You haven’t really tried American food unless you’ve had cheese whiz on crackers.” He chuckles a little as he continues to eat his strange combination of a snack.

“From the few times I've been to America, that doesn’t seem like a common snack..” You say with a grin, taking a cracker and eating it.

“It’s not something that we eat every day, but it’s definitely something common that you can find at any gas station.” Logan chuckles as he continues to eat the cheese whiz crackers, his expression seemingly one of nostalgia.

“We’re a simple country, so simple foods like this are pretty common.”

You let out a chuckle at that, “Yeah you guys are definitely simple..” You say with a small snicker, reaching for an Oreo cookie.

“Don’t act like American-style snacks aren’t the best, because they totally are.” Logan responds with a smirk as he grabs an Oreo as well, taking a bite out of it.

“Okay I will say they are better than Australian snacks..” You say with a giggle. Remembering the time Oscar forced you and Logan to try tim tams and fairy bread.

“Australians have nothing on our snacks.” Logan says with a smirk, taking another bite out of a cookie.

“I’m so glad you didn’t make me any of that stuff, I can’t believe Oscar made us try those weird foods…who the hell puts sprinkles on a slice of white bread?” Logan adds on with a grimace.

“And who the hell eats cheese whiz” You say with a grin, smiling at Logan as you take a moment to look at him.

He looked happy, less tired than how he usually looks. You were glad he was feeling better.

“Fine, you got me there…” Logan says with a smile, rolling his eyes a bit as he takes another bite out of a cookie.

“But you can’t deny that it tastes good!” He chuckles but still has a slight look of embarrassment on his face.

Despite how simple the snack is, there’s something about it that takes him back to his childhood and that feeling of nostalgia is something that’s both comforting and heartwarming.

“Wait okay- so what’s like the most American thing you can think of..” You say with a giggle, fiddling with Logan’s fingers as you two cuddle in bed.

Logan and you had made good work of the food you made, he had loved it.

“Hmm…” He considers your question for a few seconds before answering.

“The most American thing I can think of…” He thinks about the various options and thinks of the first thing that comes to mind.

“Definitely a Fourth of July block party or something like that,” He says, his answer seeming pretty reasonable.

“You know, the ones where you get together with all your friends and have a bbq, play games, and just have a good time…”

“Yeah, kinda like that now that you mention it…” He says, thinking of the similarities between the two.

You nod your head at his words, getting a visual, “That sounds like fun..it’s kind of like a street party, then?” You ask, trying to make a connection.

Logan seems to be remembering a time in his youth, when he was at one of these parties and just having a good time.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” You ask softly with a smile, cuddling closer into him, resting your head on his chest.

“Well, I was about eight or nine…”

Logan starts to tell you the story as he holds you close and rubs your back.

“It was a pretty traditional party where one of my dad’s friends was grilling burgers and hotdogs.”

“We had some games set up in the backyard, and there was music playing off of someone’s phone.”

“It was just a very nice day with a bunch of my childhood friends, just enjoying the time together…”

He lets out a chuckle before continuing, “And of course we had massive fireworks”

You let out a giggle at that, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Very American Log..” You say with a smile.

“Maybe we can go visit your family in time for a block party?” You suggest.

“Sure baby, that would be lovely.”

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View all 194 comments

logansargeant hi baby

logansargeant I love you 🫶

youruser I love you too 🤍

user027 why is there cheese whiz

user2483 what’s up with the cheese whiz??😭

williamsracing Why is there cheese whiz? 🤔

youruser american day!

logansargeant 🦅🦅

user8462 this is suspiciously american

alex_albon did you show him that tiktok sound

youruser oh I already made a tiktok of him 🤭

logansargeant I hate you both

oscarpiastri What is that abomination??

logansargeant Osc you can’t talk

youruser he’s right, fairy bread is atrocious

lilymhe I love this and I love you

youruser I love you too 🤍🤍

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

radio 🪩: you guys still aren’t safe from my angst idea (it will have two endings that you guys get to pick from), send in any requests 🫶🫶

permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant #gently weeps fics #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant blurb #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logie sarge #ls2 #ls2 fluff #ls2 imagine #ls2 x reader #williams formula 1 #williams racing #williams f1 #gently weeps blurbs #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one blurbs #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you

[avenging-fandoms]

no bc going on a road trip with the triplets would be so :((((

plus falling asleep on whichever boy was sittin in the back with you :(

“nick, how much shit do you have to bring? it’s literally a 4 hour road trip” you giggle and he gives you a look. he pushes you into the trunk and chris rushes over, closing it and you laugh, banging on the window as the three boys double over in laughter.

"let me out!" you whine and matt stands up, giggling as he opens the trunk. you hop out and hit nick in the shoulder, and he hit you back, which ended up in you two getting into a slapping fight.

"alright, you two. we're gonna be here all night. can we trust you two to sit back there together?" chris picked you up by your waist and pulled you away from nick. chris put you in the van and you tapped his cheek.

"no promises, chris" he closes the door and you pull out your phone, popping in an airpod and snuggling up with your blanket. the boys got in the car and chris plugged his phone in, playing his music and you look at nick, who gave you an annoyed look and you started to laugh.

-

"MATT" you yell and all 3 of them jump, making you laugh. "i'm hungry"

"and that's my problem how?"

"there's a mcdonald's close by, and a gas station right next to it. you can fill 'er up and i can get some nuggets" you clap and matt nods.

"are you buying mcdonald's?" chris turns around and looks at you with a grin, and you gave him a look.

“what do i look like, a cash cow?” matt pulls into the gas station and hops out, filling up the car.

“nick” he looks at you “want a lemon up?” you take out a cookie and he gasps, swatting it out of your hand and it landed on the dashboard. you and chris laugh, you bending over and tapping his leg.

“no, don’t touch me after you touched that poison, get away from me” nick swatted your hand and you wipe your eyes.

“nick it’s a fucking vanilla oreo!” chris laughed and nick’s face dropped.

“that’s worse! get me regular!” he exclaimed and matt came back in the car.

“why the fuck is my ass covered in crumbs” matt yelled and you snort. matt turns the car on and drives a little ways to mcdonald’s, parking and you all pile out. you stand in the front while the 3 boys stand behind you, chris and matt crossing their arms, making it look like they’re your security guards.

you all ordered your food, you and matt getting happy meals and chris and nick getting their normal meals. you put your phone up against the wall on the counter, recording a video. “fit check” you put up a peace sign and chris stands next to you fixing his hair.

“your fit is trash, onto me” chris pushed you out of the way and you laugh, matt catching you. each boy showed their outfits and chris took your phone, shoving your camera in his mouth.

“alright, that’s enough” you grabbed your phone and stop the video, getting your food and heading out to the car. “nick, you wanna share my apples in the back?”

“actually i’m gonna sit in the back with you” chris smiled and you looked at nick who rolled his eyes.

“princess chris always gets what he wants. he wants to sleep and the front isn’t comfortable for him so he wants to sleep in the back, and i’m not tired. plus, if he’s sleeping, i can play the music i want” nick opens the passenger door and you all get in, nick plugging in his phone and playing sza.

as you both sang along, everyone ate their food, and even matt joined in on some doja cat. you finished your food and put your feet on chris’s lap, smiling at him. “your feet smell”

“you smell, bitch” you kick his thigh and he slaps your toes. you sat up and chris smiled, thinking he won. you spun your body and laid your head on his lap, and he rolled his eyes. “i guess this is better than your smelly feet” you smile and wrap your arm around his leg, pulling your blanket up and closing your eyes.

chris mindlessly played with your hair as he scrolled on tiktok and made tiktoks, a couple of them with you sleeping on his lap. chris playing with your hair helped you fall asleep faster, and half an hour later, chris put his hood up then leaned his pillow against the door, arm draped over your back as you both slept for the rest of the ride.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #youtube #chris sturniolo x reader #fanfic #blurb

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 4/2/24

prompt: oreo

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

As the clock hits 8:14pm, Eddie hears a knock on the door of the trailer. He can't help the grin as he goes to let his boyfriend in.

Upon opening his door, he's greeted with a very normal sight: Steve Harrington, wearing his hideous work uniform, with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey, how was work?"

Steve smiles, something off about his expression as he walks in and toes off his shoes.

"Good, it was good. Missed Rob, though- working with Laurie sucks, you know. She's such a suck up." He says as he goes, and Eddie nods.

He's about to make a joke about the infamous coworker when Steve does something distinctly un-normal. He gingerly takes his backpack off his shoulder and sets it on the ground, making sure it's upright. That may sound normal, but Steve's usual style was more of a.. flinging the backpack off his shoulder the second he's through the door so he can go raid the kitchen or kiss Eddie stupid.

Eddie chooses to ignore it, or he was going to until he sees the backpack shake a little. Like there's something inside.

"What's going on with your bag, Stevie?" He asks, and looks back at Steve's face. He's expecting a look of confusion, because maybe he's seeing things, but instead is met with a look akin to being caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

"What do you mean?" Steve tries for innocent, and leans in to give Eddie a kiss on the lips.

The distraction works for about ten seconds, until Eddie hears a meow from the bag.

"Did you steal a cat, Steve? What is going on right now?"

"Maybe." is all he gets out of Steve, so Eddie opens the bag to let the poor thing out.

A black-and-white cat stumbles out of the bag, and immediately starts rubbing itself against Steve's legs. Eddie raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who still has that innocent expression on his face.

"How'd that get there?"

"Steve, it is literally purring at your feet and you haven't even touched it, don't pretend you've never seen that cat before."

"Oreo is not an it, Eddie!"

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #dailydrabble #stwgdailyprompt