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#and she draws out his silly side
stellarsightz · 1 year
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What is the flavor of fear?
Sublime, my Brother.
(Alternate version under the cut)
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#murder cult almost got wiped out. but we stay silly :3#no hes not bald. yes he has hair. i was just too lazy to draw it#anyways. new art experiment featuring my altmeri listener called lynwalynn from my second skyrim playthrough#(no i havent finished playing it lol)#he and his twin sister used to be part of dark brotherhood in cyrodiil before the unrest. fled the country. got separated#lynn did some crazy sidequesting and became the archmage of winterhold. got bored so he joined the thieves guild. became a nigthingale#banged brynjolf. got into an argument w him and had a messy breakup. left the guild bc things got really awkward w bryn#eventually re-joined the dark brotherhood and became the listener. and now hes just chilling and doing illegal shit w cicero by his side :)#he and his sister (named baltana; my first skyrim babygirl) accidentally reunite and catch up. he discovers that his sister also#did some crazy sidequesting on her own and that shes the dragonborn the vampireslayer of dawnguard and used to be the harbinger#of companions (but left bc she fucking hated their racist nordic supremacy bullshit)#yes he is fucked up yes hes almost like any other listener you can find on ao3 i dont care#i made a self-sacrificing almighty hero on my first playthrough and thought it was bland as fuck so i just said#yknow what. how about i made the wettest most pathetic nasty fucked up guy instead. AND they split the titles bc theres no way only#one person can do all of those things. like i get it but i think its just. boring if you're the all-powerful big strong good guy#skyrim tes#the elder scrolls#dark brotherhood#artists on tumblr#digital art#my art#long tags#oc: lynwallyn
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carnethyne · 3 months
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part 2 of their first year shenanigans
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Stop stinking up the place!
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partaking in my favorite hobby (drawing little thumbnails thinking about chip n jay finding gillion)
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osaemu · 4 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: some other streamer's been buying you gifts, but satoru knows he can spoil you better.
contents: fem!reader. kinda sorta clingy!gojo. more toji slander hehe. inumaki and megumi gang up on gojo. like always. oh also you guys kiss on camera! tagging @sutorus and @yunymphs ꨄ︎
author's note: ughhh he's such a pretty pathetic loser i wanna shake him silly :(
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"oh, satoru, someone sent me another gift!" you say with a smile, beckoning him over to look. satoru hops off his chair and looks over at your computer screen, resting his chin on the top of your head. "look, it's the skin i said i wanted! i wonder who sent it to me, huh..."
satoru shrugs and dips his head to kiss the side of your face. "coulda just asked me for it, y'know," he mutters, eyeing the username that had apparently sent you the gift.
you ignore him and gesture at the time on the top-right corner of your screen. "isn't your stream starting in a couple minutes?" you ask, tilting your head. satoru nods and pulls away, shaking his white hair out of his eyes before walking back over to his monitor. and just a minute or two later, he's live and chatting with his early viewers.
"hey, suguru," he says with a grin, waving at the screen when his close friend joins. "you wanna join my team for today? the match's gonna start in a couple minutes."
suguru-geto: yea sure one sec
satoru spins around in his chair a couple times, and he blows a kiss at you every time his chair faces your direction. and every time, you humor him and catch his kisses. eventually, he stops spinning around in circles and starts actually interacting with his viewers.
inumaki: i hate gojo's streams
inumaki: you just stare at your gf for half of them
inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.
"anyways. suguru, you ready yet?" satoru says with a grin. suguru replies with a thumbs-down in the chat, and satoru groans impatiently. "what are you even doing that's takin' you so long?"
suguru-geto: taking care of something
"whatever," satoru grumbles, slouching down in his chair and spinning around one more time. "hey, chat, y'wanna know a funny story? i could use your help on it too."
the comments explode with various forms of affirmation, and satoru turns his head and winks at you. "so, lately, some random account's been sending my girlfriend everythin' she could ever want. skins, coins, you name it. what does that mean?"
he ruffles his hair with one hand and drums his fingertips on his desk with the other, surveying the replies from underneath his long, white eyelashes.
sho-ko: some guy wants her sooo bad
yuuji-itadori: maybe the person's just being nice! :)
satoru makes a face at shoko's comments and scowls, sitting up and leaning closer to the screen. "i dunno if the guy who's sending my girlfriend gifts is here right now, but if you are, you better not think that you have a chance with her. 'cause you don't!"
you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your face at satoru's indignant words, and when he turns to you, you just can't help but laugh. he's so sweet, even and especially when he does his best to gatekeep you. but ever since he brought you onto his stream for the first time, you've been an instant fan-favorite, so he can only hide you for so long.
satoru scrunches up his face at you childishly, and you draw a heart in the air right back at him. it makes him smile ruefully, and his eyes light up when you blow a kiss at him. he turns back to his screen determinedly and raises an eyebrow at the latest comment.
sho-ko: do u have the guy's username? cus you can find out who it is that way
"oh, it's... hard to say. rio-zuku?" satoru tries, squinting his eyes. "i don't know, whatever. you guys know him?"
megumi-fushiguro: dyou mean ryosuku? i hate him
yuuji-itadori: oh i don't like him either :( hes mean
satoru scoffs and puts his feet up on his desk, rolling his cerulean eyes. "he can't be more famous than me, so whatever."
megumi-fushiguro: he gets 100k views per stream
"well, he can't be a better gamer than me," satoru replies dismissively, waving his hand.
kugi-saki: didn't he win the val championship last year?
"but i bet i'm hotter!"
toji-fushiguro: you wish
"fuck you, toji," satoru huffs indignantly. "well, how haven't i heard of this guy? if he's so famous and so hot, huh?" ignoring your snickers, satoru switches to another tab and types in the username. but when he clicks on the first link, nothing shows up. it's a blank profile, and satoru's jaw dropped.
"how the fuck am i blocked?!" he whines, flopping his head back on the headrest of his seat and pretending to faint. the chat floods with a thousand expressions of laughter, and you hop off your seat to go sit on the desk of satoru's desk, taking care to stay out of sight of his camera.
satoru opens one eye and squints it at you, lips forming a childish pout. he reaches out and twines his fingers with yours, completely ignoring his exploding comment section. you squeeze his hand gently and reach over his keyboard, hitting a key to mute his microphone.
"i can block him if you want," you offer, wrapping your other hand around satoru's. "and, for what it's worth, i think you're prettier than him."
satoru grins smugly at that, eyes softening more and more the longer they focus on you. "m'kay, thanks... wait, how do you know what he looks like?" he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes playfully.
"'cause i looked him up this morning."
your boyfriend sighs dramatically and pretends to faint again. when he reopens his eyes, there's a slightly new look in his eyes as he mumbles, "i wish people would stop hitting on you."
you reach out and touch his chin, forgetting that people on his stream could probably see your hand even if you two were on mute. "oh, i get that a lot," you tease, pinching his cheek affectionately. "but, honestly, you're the only one i wanna be with. even if that other guy buys me everything i could ever want, he's still not you."
satoru kisses the inside of your hand, eyes still fixed on you. "you do know that i'd buy you all of that and more if you asked, right?"
"i know. and i'd love you even if you were as broke as toji."
your side comment makes satoru throw his head back in laughter, and he shakes his head as a wide smile grows across his face. he pushes his chair closer to the desk and tilts his head up, minty taste fresh on his mouth as he smiles against your lips.
a bashful giggle slips past your lips as satoru kisses you again and again. from the corner of your eye, you can see that the two of you are just barely off-camera—in fact, anyone who's watching the stream can tell that the two of you are kissing, but you're still just out of sight.
"d'you want the new battle pass?" satoru mumbles against your lips, caressing the side of your face. you nod and grin, kissing the corner of his mouth.
"only you would talk about a battle pass while you're kissi—" satoru cuts you off with another kiss, stopping you from finishing your sentence.
"uh uh, shut up and let me kiss you. you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen n' i wanna enjoy you," satoru says plainly, gripping your chin in between his thumb and index finger. he tugs your lips on his again, and when he finally pulls away, he turns back to his screen and sticks out his tongue.
satoru unmutes himself and smiles smugly at the camera, face flushed pink from the way you had kissed him back. "well, at least that asshole doesn't have my pretty girlfriend, and he never fuckin' will."
yuuji-itadori: aw you two are so cute :)
megumi-fushiguro: i miss the single gojo
inumaki: im back whatd i miss???
inumaki: oh nvm im leaving again
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luveline · 5 months
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bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!
thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem
The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 
He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 
James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 
He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 
You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 
"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 
"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 
James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 
"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 
"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 
You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.
"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.
Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 
"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 
"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 
"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 
"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 
"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 
"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 
The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 
The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 
"Eternal doesn't mean better." 
"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 
You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 
"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 
"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 
Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 
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So Messy (For Everyone Else) - LN
Summary: Lando might have been harshly criticised for his choice to not join Red Bull and stay happily in the team he loves. But his girlfriend encourages him to count his blessings that suddenly he's not at the forefront of criticism and drama now.
Soft-hearted/shy!reader
Also because people keep replying asking for part 2s, and even though it is on my page (I don't expect everyone to go look at my profile just to ask for a part 2) that I explain I write one shots to remain as one part. I figure it's just easier to put at the top of fics. This is not to be mean or passive aggressive, it's just so people aren't commenting getting their hopes up for a follow up part when I won't be writing a part 2.
No part 2 requests please
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Lando had to physically restrain his girlfriend who does not have the same self-control as Max when it comes to knowing when to stop defending Lando because all that happens is her blood boils at the sight of any negativity towards him.
She's got a mouth and she willing to use it to put people in their place.
Lando had practically confiscated her phone so it became a matter of waking up before him and trying to retrieve her phone from his side of the bed.
"Ah!" Lando groans making her body jump as he grabs her wrist and uses it to instead pin her into a hug. "Let's just stay here for a while."
"I don't know how you go from trying to leave me bed bound to be a teddy bear. But it's jarring." Y/n states earning a smirk from her boyfriend.
"I just want your love and attention in every form that you can give it." Lando smiles whole moving both hands up and drawing a heart shape with his index fingers around her face. "You're so pretty."
Y/n's hit with a wave of shyness over his comment, ducking her head down to hide in his chest while he laughs, always a fan of the effect his words have on her. He thinks she's adorable.
"Can't hide there forever." Lando teases rubbing her back as he hugs her tightly.
"I think I can." Y/n mumbles earning a laugh. "Can I have my phone yet? Just to check the time?"
Lando already knows it's well into the afternoon, he woke up and saw the times a few hours ago and it'd just gone 11. But with all the travelling they've been doing, he figured there's no damage in sleeping a little excessively.
Y/n grins getting up and straddling her boyfriend as she reaches for her phone. And while she is focusing on her phone, Lando is taking the time to admire his girlfriends body. As he often takes the opportunity to do when she's not paying attention because otherwise she gets shy and just tries to cover herself again.
"Fuck me. What the fuck?" Y/n gasps as she read something on her screen. "Lewis is moving to Ferrari. Holy-Did you know?"
"No. How the would I know?" Lando laughs then snatching her phone. "Are you lying? Because that doesn't sound-oh fuck."
"Not confirmed...but it's definitely looking like it's going to happen." Y/n states managing to get her phone back. "That's insane...really took the shine off the Haas launch-be nice. You wouldn't like the McLaren launch overshadowed."
"Not likely to happen." Lando scoffs earning an eye roll.
"Apparently they'll be confirmation-Lando...it's Carlos' seat. Charles had his announcement the day before yours."
"Don't-no, baby. Do not cry. Carlos is a good driver, he'll get another seat." Lando states laughing as his girlfriend tears up for his former teammate. "You're so silly, baby. You don't need to cry."
"I'm so glad you're not in Ferrari, they treat their drivers like shit when they decide to replace them." Y/n pouts then sighing and tossing her phone away as if it's offended her. Then a thought strikes her. "Maybe people will finally keep your name out their mouth."
"Hopefully, but they'll be a few who are more obsessed with me than you are and they'll manage to still make it about me." Lando hums which makes her click her tongue but she doesn't say anything because really she knows he's right. Though of course she feels like she has to make some sort of comment.
"It's not your fault that you're success and they've got no accomplishments to actually brag about."
"See, that is why we don't let you go online and speak your mind. Because that sort of thing is going to get us both in trouble." Lando smiles earning a hum. "Anyway, it's like 3...so how about we make something to eat and kill time till we find out what's going on?"
Y/n hums in agreement to his plan, smiling at her while she sighs softly.
-
Y/n kept an eye on the time and she cried when it was all confirmed. Crying at the fact Lewis isn't retiring with the team he gained so much success with, crying at Carlos' confirmation of his departure and crying at Ferrari addressing Lewis joining the team, but making no effort to address Carlos.
"Baby..." Lando laughs as she sniffles and rubs her eyes. "People change and swap teams all the time and Carlos is in Ferrari for another year."
"They don't deserve him." Y/n pouts while Lando smiles pulling her over to his lap, almost replicating their position of her straddling him like she was when they learned of the news.
"You have the biggest heart, baby." Lando sighs while cupping her face and wiping his thumbs under her cheeks to get rid of the tears. "I sent Carlos a message and he said he's got plans. You don't need to worry about him...I'd be more worried about how Mercedes might prioritise George now they know Lewis isn't going to be giving something to them."
"Lando." Y/n whines since that's not at all making her feel better and more tears threaten to spill over.
"It's the truth." Lando laughs before pulling her forward into a kiss. "I'm getting my new helmet tomorrow. You can look forward to that."
Y/n pouts, but he can see her eyes lightened at that knowledge.
-
Y/n seeing Lando's helmet, she's obsessed (though she does miss his original design that had been carried through his career, inspired by his motorsport hero).
"Do you want to model for me baby?" Lando grins catching her attention from the video she'd been capturing of his stunning modelling skills. "Come on, baby."
"Alright, bossy." Y/n jokes while he rolls his eyes pulling the straps and shifting it around before he successfully pushes the helmet down on her head.
The next photos are mainly a sequence of Lando looking at her through the helmet in a way which really captures just how much he loves her. One specific moment captures when he lifts the visor and wiggles his finger in the space watching her eyes crease as she smiles and laughs at him.
Though what even earns an "awww" from the photographer, is when he lifts the helmet up to sit just on top of her head, leaving it there as he cups her face, almost blocking her from the camera entirely from the size of his hand covering her cheeks as he kisses her.
Then she's squished in a hug which lets her hide her face, too flustered to be captured on camera. Though the moment of her hiding is captured anyway.
"She's shy." Lando laughs continuing to hug her and let her hide, pulling the helmet the rest of the way off her head. "Is that all the pictures we need?"
"Yeah, I think we got them all."
-
"I think right now McLaren is out of the park with being considered problematic. You're about as problematic as Williams right now." Y/n comments as she scrolls through her phone. "Although, I'm not sure how Alex and Logan could be problematic."
"I'm sure the best of F1 haters will find something to hate them for if they try hard enough." Lando hums before he smiles brightly at her.
"That's true." Y/n hums before finding her phone snatched from her. "I wasn't going to say anything."
"You have that look on your face." Lando smirks since if there's one thing he's perfected in his life, it's reading his girlfriend like a book. Though he checks her phone and finds that he was right, she already had half a tweet written. "Baby..."
"I can't help it."
Lando knows since he really understands it goes against her true nature for her to not say something when she believes someone is saying something with no justification behind it.
"I'm enjoying the peace, you should enjoy it too." Lando states locking her phone and putting it down. "Because soon it's going to be chaos and you, future mrs Norris, are going to be by my side for it ever step of the way."
"Future mrs Norrs? I need a ring before you give me that title."
"It's your name in my phone, and don't pretend you don't love it." Lando smirks while knowing he's triggering her shy complex into wanting to hide being being torn between using him and pushing him away because he's the cause. "Sorry, I'm sorry."
Y/n is sitting up on the kitchen counter so he stands between her legs and laughs as she leans forward hugging him and leans over, her chin on his shoulder before she tilts down to rub her face into his top.
"You are the cutest and somehow most protective girlfriend on the planet." Lando laughs gently kissing her neck while pulling her closer to his body.
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axiina · 4 months
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I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕
'I hate you' is new 'I love you'
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)
Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.
Words: 3.2k
Themes: smut, nsfw
Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other
Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!
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Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.
Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.
You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.
"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."
Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.
"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.
"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.
"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"
The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."
Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.
"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.
"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."
The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.
"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.
You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."
The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.
"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.
"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.
"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.
"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."
"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.
"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.
"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.
Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."
"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.
You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.
He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.
A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.
You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.
He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.
You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.
The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.
He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.
The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.
All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.
Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.
You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.
His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.
Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.
Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.
His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.
Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.
"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."
"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.
You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.
"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.
He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.
"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."
He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.
Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.
Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.
You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.
Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.
Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.
What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.
He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.
You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.
Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze
"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.
"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.
Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.
"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.
"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."
Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."
"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.
You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.
"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.
"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.
You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.
You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.
Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.
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ervotica · 6 months
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strange fascination
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warnings: dark!ellie williams + dark!abby anderson x reader, noncon, DARK, smut (18+ only), threesome, ellie refers to her strap as a ‘cock’, drugging, tribbing, throat fucking, almost somno, r is fucked with a strap, cunnilingus, fem!reader, 1.5k words
kinktober masterlist
It’s slow at first; the way the world slowly starts to tip on its axis. Your vision swims, halted still only by Abby’s hulking presence in front of you on the ragged couch. You sniff and bat away the blunt in her hand, though your movements are disjointed, like your limbs are filled with molasses, heavy and sticky. One of her thick, calloused hands coasts the length of your arm, an action which would soothe you under normal circumstances. But you don’t feel right.
It’s an uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach, a churning for which the cause is undetermined.
“Abby,” you mumble; your voice won’t stretch any further.
“Yeah, hon’?”
The door to your shabby one bedroom apartment creaks; your heart ticks, loud in your own ears.
You regain some awareness as Ellie latches the door shut and comes to crouch in front of you on the couch watching amusedly as you tilt your head, legs dangling from the edge of the worn fabric.
“Hi, gorgeous,” she smiles, all teeth and dimples. It’s unlike her to be so chipper.
You’re frowning. You don’t realise you’re even doing it before Ellie’s reaching a slender hand out and smoothing the creases in your forehead out.
“She’s quiet.”
You almost answer before you realise she’s not speaking to you.
The bigger girl’s hand settles on the back of your neck and squeezes. She taps your chin, settling the blunt between your lips once more.
“Have some more, baby.”
You cough and gag around the paper, trying to expel the smoke from your lungs even as the two girls encourage you to take more of it in. By the time she lets up, you’ve slumped, glassy eyed against Abby’s side.
You’d never noticed how she towers above you before now; you’ve never felt so small, so vulnerable in her presence, even more so with the other girl to your left. Ellie’s sidled in now she knows you’re still and compliant, the very point of her nose nudging at your jugular with a fervour you haven’t seen before. She nips at your earlobe and you squirm.
“No, stop,” you slur through your honey sticky mouth and slack jaw. “Don’t wanna.”
“Lift her for me, Abs,” Ellie murmurs; her voice suddenly has an edge that makes you uneasy. You moan in protest, too far away to form any words, let alone stop them. Abby’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, drawing you up and into her chest, her other hand against your bum as she lifts you into her lap.
“I know, honey,” she coos, breathless between rough kisses and nips to your exposed neck. “You wouldn’t let us take care of you sober. You should’ve made it easy for yourself. Silly girl.”
Your eyes grow hot and well, tears gathering at your waterline. How could your best friends do something like this to you? Cold hands grope at your ass, Ellie’s fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans and tugging the taut material down your legs.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans. “You’re so hot, baby.”
You grow hot and clammy with nausea. Your eyes feel like they’ve been superglued shut as you blink, peeling your eyelashes from each other.
“We’re losing her, Ellie,” Abby murmurs, undeterred in her mission to free your tits from your tank top. When they spill free, she twists a nipple meanly and grunts.
“‘S okay,” the slender girl laughs, “Don’t need her awake for this part.”
Your head falls limp, dead weight on Abby’s shoulder as she wrestles the tank top up and over you; she balls it up in her fist, discards it on the floor somewhere. Despite your weakness, you’re painfully aware of what they’re doing to you. You’re a prisoner in your own body.
You’re slumped against the muscular girl somewhat unceremoniously, eyes forced shut as Ellie finally pulls your panties aside to get a good look at your dripping cunt.
“Little whore is a liar!” She grins, triumphant. “She’s fuckin’ soaked. You like it.”
You can’t so much as lift your head to answer. Ellie draws your hips back and pushes between your shoulder blades to create a beautiful arch. You feel her thumbs against the crease of your cunt, spreading your petal soft lips to reveal your dripping hole.
“Attagirl, knew you wanted this,” Ellie murmurs.
Your mind goes blank as two of her fingers disappear, engulfed by your swollen lips. “So wet.”
You want to cry and scream and push them away but no movement will come from your body. Abby hooks her hands under your armpits and lays you flat on the couch.
“Don’t be greedy,” she snaps. “I wanna feel her pussy.”
She crouches, dragging your bare lower half until you’re hanging over the lip of the couch with your legs firmly settled over her shoulders. Her biceps bulge where they’re curled round your thighs.
She wastes no time in licking a broad, flat stripe up the entire expanse of your cunt, nosing at your clit and inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, she tastes good.”
Pleasure lights your every nerve ending on fire despite your protests to the situation. If you could kick her, you would.
She eats you out like she’s been starved of it her entire life, slaking her thirst on the almost constant drooling of your cunt. Despite your limited movement, you’re drawing to your peak with a weak cry, the coil drawing tight in your abdomen until Abby slips two fingers into your fluttering hole and you snap.
She grins like she’s the one going mad with pleasure and Ellie, who was previously pinching and twisting at your nipples until they darkened and swelled, dives forward to kiss you.
You lift a wrist in protest and can’t do much else in your current predicament; her tongue invades your limp mouth, your lips numb as hers glide over them. She pulls away gasping.
“Gonna put my cock in you, sweet girl.” She heaves a breath, unbuttoning her own jeans to reveal the silicone strap at her pelvis. You’re like a fish out of water, squirming and choking back a sob as you try to push her away. Abby hooks an arm under your back and you slump, eyes rolling as the effects of the drugs only increase.
The muscular girl sits and spreads her thighs on the couch to situate you with your back to her chest. Ellie looms, menacing over your helpless body as she drags the tip of her strap through your cunt, catching it on your still sensitive button.
When she pushes in you think you black out. Her forehead beads with sweat, nose inches from yours and breath hot as she immediately locates your sweet spot and pummels it with a force you’re not used to. It’s bruising on your cervix, painful in a way that only increases the pleasure they’re forcing onto you.
Abby reaches forward to tweak at your trembling clit, her other hand clasped firmly around your throat as your head lolls against her shoulder with every thrust.
Your body seizes as white hot pleasure shoots through you; you’re frozen with it, limp as an orgasm unlike any one you’ve ever felt before rips through you.
Your eyes flutter closed with a small cry as Ellie pulls out, spreading your lips as your hole gapes and shrinks at the absence of the strap.
Abby throws you to the side as though you’re useless as she strips herself of her bottom half of clothes; once she’s bare, she’s lifting your thighs to slot her own between them, her clit bumping against yours. It burns, the way she rubs against you so forcefully, still raw and swollen from the last two orgasms the girls have pulled from your slack body.
“Make her suck it,” she grunts, motioning for the slender girl to open your mouth. Ellie does just that, prying your lips open to feed her strap, slick and wet with your juices, down your throat.
Your throat bugles at the intrusion; you gag softly around it, and then with more force as you realise she’s not letting up.
“Fuckkk, look at her face!” Abby moans, pressing her clit to yours even harder as she creeps up on her peak.
Your eyes grow heavier as your vision blacks out at the edges; Ellie only pushes deeper into your throat, thumb pressed to the protrusion it makes.
Abby’s thighs tremble around your own and she soaks you, white knuckled where she’s clutching your knees.
You retch and gurgle around Ellie with one final fight to pull away before she takes pity on you. The spit that’s pooled at the corners of your mouth starts to leak down your face.
“That’s enough.” Abby’s tone is final.
The two girls retreat and pull on their clothes so fast you’d think they were being chased. Ellie crouches next to your ruined body and tips your chin up. You vaguely register a glob of spit hitting you in the face.
“Fuckin’ whore,” she spits. Abby’s eyes darken.
“Have some fuckin’ respect, Williams. Let’s go.”
They leave you there, passed out in a puddle of cum and drool, naked and exhausted.
They’ll be back before you know it.
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Eddie hated this and he'd just started.
See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.
He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.
"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"
But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.
"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."
Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"
"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"
Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.
When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"
That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."
Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.
Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."
And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.
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shepscapades · 9 months
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Some Rito have officially joined the Botwcast lineup! I’m slowly working hermits into what is primarily a Yogscast au, and discovering totk lore is definitely giving me a lot to think about bdjfgbdgkb
Here’s an assortment of doodles featuring a bunch of random here-there stuff I’ve been thinking about for the au, ranging from important plot stuff to silly side-character shenanigans :]
Featuring (in order): Rito Grian (who may or may not be the stand-in for Tulin in totk), Rito False (Rito warrior!), Rito Lomadia (who becomes the rito elder by totk), botw Nano who’s infected by malice and swears she’s no more feral or violent than normal because of it, Stable owner Jimmy who’s NOT related to Grian despite what Grian keeps telling all of their friends, Stable owner Bdubs who claims to have the best horse stock in all of Hyrule, an updated Nano design for totk and Etho who has similar gloom scars, and… whatever Doc has going on. Haven’t figured out the logistics yet, but I think it’d be hilarious if what happened to link’s arm somehow happened to Doc’s face. I had to Doc-ificate his face somehow and this was too funny of a concept not to at least draw DFBJGB
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König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)
Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.
It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.
…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.
What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.
He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.
That’s when he received the letter.
A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.
König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.
He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.
The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.
König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.
He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?
König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.
He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…
A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.
But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…
There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”
There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”
Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..
So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”
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vacayisland · 4 months
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@!; Meet the Wifie JD / Female! Reader
"Summary"! You had always heard about JD's brothers, but you had never met them before as you had gotten with JD after the band had broken up. Yet, while on a mission to save Floyd, you were slowly introduced to his brothers, each in their own silly yet loving ways. "Tags"! Fluff? Idk somehow a fight almost breaks with between the Reader and poor Clay. Also tumblr is being weird so praying this posts this way.
@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @gtdkibf6jshhshjd
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@!; Branch and Poppy would be the first to know the truth about JD; A truth he might have forgotten to tell his brothers back in the band days, and something he even forgot to tell Branch and Poppy before they rode in Rhonda for the first time. It wasn't like he was trying to keep secrets, far from it; JD was more than proud of this little secret he has managed to cheek, yet in the flurry of re-meeting Branch and meeting Poppy and getting them both down to help save Floyd, he might have forgotten this tiny detail. "Branch! You never told me you guys has a sister!" Poppy exclaimed as she bounced into Rhonda, beaming from ear to ear as she noticed another Troll inside; they were looking over a few scattered papers, receipts, post cards, anything that she's been able to dig up. Yet her attention was caught away from her search and study when three Trolls entered the little RV, even more so calling her JD's brother. She tried to explain to Poppy that she wasn't JD's sister, that she was in fact his girlfriend, yet JD stopped her before she could; raising a hand in her direction as soon as he saw her open her mouth. He playfully wiggled a finger at Poppy, "That's the wifie!" "You're married?!" Poppy exclaimed with excitement, while Branch seemed taken aback instantly; his attention filtered from you to JD, a silent question engulfing his eyes as he tried to fathom a world where someone would have interest in his older brother. "Well, uh, not technically?" JD rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled with nerves; While you chuckled, a bit more sweetly, along side of him. Poppy tilted her head in confusion, her arms dropping to the side as she tried to think of how JD called you his 'wife' but you guys weren't married. Branch stood next to Poppy, still trying to fathom this whole situation. Wondering how you, someone who seemed so... not JD, ended up with someone like his older brother. As in given example, you were careful to stand up and walk around all the evidence you had dug up from boxes of old things that JD had kept since his band days. While JD, while turning around to reach for your waist, almost stepped and step a whole stack of papers flying to the floor! You had stopped him before he did so, thankfully, playfully smacking his leg away from the stack so he would yelp but realize his mistake and draw his leg back. "Hi, it's so very nice to meet you two." You would extend your hand towards Branch and Poppy; In which, Poppy grabbed your hand first and shook it enthusiastically. "Hello! It's so very nice to meet you!" Exclaimed Poppy as she almost made your arm fall off with how vigorously she was shaking it, "I'm Branch's, JD's younger brother, girlfriend. And can I say, you have very lovely hair." You smiled at Poppy, though were glad to be able to pull your hand away when she finished the hand shake. With your other hand, you grabbed onto the closest hand JD had to you, interlocking your fingers.
"Well, it's very nice to meet you both. I expect you both know what's happening?" You received a nod from Poppy, while Branch just kept his eyes square on JD; who tried to play it cool, but you noticed the tiniest sweat drop rolling down his forehead. "Well then, Poppy, would you like to help me search for clues? I'm trying to find where Spruce is-" You didn't even have to finish before Poppy bounded over, grabbing your hand and rushed over to the pile of documents and files you had pulled out. It genuinely shocked you how much energy she had. But you were not going to let that scare you! What you and Poppy didn't notice, as you were sorting and shuffling around clues, was the 'I'm watching you' fingers that Branch gave to JD. In which JD just extended his arms, wondering what Branch was going on about. Branch, in response, glanced over at you and then back to JD with a cock of his eyebrow. Confused, JD turned towards you and Poppy and then back at Branch wondering what he was getting on about. But Branch wasn't going to say his thoughts out loud, not yet.
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@!; Bruce would be the second one to meet you, and much like Branch he was confused on how this even happened. Unlike Branch, he was happy that JD finally had someone who could tolerate him and his bossy ways; That's not to say that Branch was unhappy for you or JD, he was just a little jealous and sour that after all this time JD had changed yet he couldn't have been there for Branch when he needed it. Those feelings shifted from time to time the more Branch saw you and JD interact, and he couldn't help but slowly feel guilty; Yet, still standing the fact that it wasn't all that fair. Either way, Bruce met you when Poppy, Bruce, and Branch came back to Rhonda after a successful mission and a dance number about Brozone being back. You were sat in the driver's seat, mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards; You had been asked if you would like to join the three, mostly by Poppy and JD, but you had declined as you weren't much of a people person. It's what drew you to JD at first, when you heard he was going solo around the globe in a 'soul-searching' journey. You asked more about it and slowly the two of you had grown closer than you ever thought would be possible. As such, you always tended to miss him dearly when he stepped off Rhonda. And, subsequently, is why you bounded onto your feet when you heard the door open. You didn't even mind that the deck of cards had spilt all over the floor as you heard your boyfriends all too familiar voice shout, "Honey, we're home!" Which was followed by a confused new voice, "Honey?" "You'll get used to it." And Branch's snarky comeback. They had managed to grab Spruce, no doubt, thanks to the post card. Yet, before JD could introduce you both, he had to take care of the loving and attentive girlfriend that had appeared right in front of him; Grabbing both his hands and welcoming him back with a big smile, while also accidentally stopping those from behind JD; Who had to awkwardly shuffle around the two of you. "What did you do?" JD quipped, smirking down at you with a curious look. He hadn't notice the stack of playing cards that had been left on the ground yet, which Poppy had began to pick up out of habit. "Nothing! I just missed you." Branch, standing next to Bruce, could swear he could see the definition of heart eyes in your eyes. He wasn't sure if he was actually happy for his brother, or a little grossed out, or jealous, or all the above with some plausible explanation for his emotions that he didn't feel like going into. JD, having forgotten that you two had company over, was quick to scoop you up into his arms, as he usually did when you greeted him back home. His arms rested under your thighs, supporting you as you sat on his forearms, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck while your legs wrapped around his waist. There was something always so peaceful yet exciting being this close to JD; Being able to clearly see his eyes, as you cupped his cheeks and leaned down to connect your foreheads. You were able to smell his cologne, which you swore you could get drunk off of. You could just feel his warmth and be able to take a moment to stop and breath and remember that he's here and he isn't going anywhere. You could just, be; Be here with JD and not have to worry about anything. And the way that JD tightened his hold, the way he looked back up at you with adoration... you knew he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you almost kicked him out of his own bus one time because he was being a pain in your ass. A cough from Branch, and awing from Poppy, snapped you both out of your love-drunk dazes. Causing you to sit up properly and glance over at the company, all the while you kept JD's cheeks cupped with your hands and he couldn't really tilt his head to see everyone. "You both are!... adorable!" Poppy shouted, bouncing on her toes as she held onto Branch's arm. You couldn't help but laugh as her reaction, noticing that she was refraining from shaking Branch with all her might.
"Yeah, very cute." Sarcasm leaked out of Branch, "But have you both realized we've been standing here for a minute? We need to go out and look for Clay so we can save Floyd!- Yet, Bruce only patted Branch on the shoulder, "Calm down, Bitty B! I wanna meet JD's partner." Along with giving you both a smile as you slide out of JD's arms and onto the floor. At least, you were attempting to do so, but JD only tightened his hold. "Bruce, meet the wifie; Wifie, meet Bruce one of my younger brothers. Good, there you guys meet. Now if you excuse us," And, though Bruce seemed to have wanted to met more, he simply walked away with you still in his arms. Which caused you to flush but laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder and asking what has gotten into him! But, then again, this was your boyfriend and he was usually this selfish with you.
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@!; Clay met you in Putt-Putt Village, where you had been convinced by JD to come out with everyone else. He had claimed that it was simply too dark and spooky to let you stay home alone and he couldn't make sure you were properly safe in Rhonda. You tried arguing saying that he's left you in worse conditions, which seemed to get a rile out of Bruce who questioned him what you had meant. It was funny to watch JD sputtering out reasons and excuses and examples, but in the end you decided to join them. It would do you good to get some fresh air after so many hours of basically non-stop traveling. To say you regretted your choice as soon as the clown-head started talking would be an understatement. To say you weren't about to kill JD when gulf balls began to animate and roll around you, was an understatement. To say that you then didn't smack JD behind the head when everything turned out to be alright was... actually, that's not an understatement because that's exactly what you had done. "And you said I wouldn't be safe in Rhonda! When has she ever let me get surrounded by gulf-balls that actually turned out to be Trolls." You had 'scolded' JD as you smacked him behind the head. It wasn't anything hard, just a small one-two to see if he still had some sort of brain in there. JD jerked towards you with the most betrayed look you've every seen him give, "Babe!" JD sputtered, not knowing how to respond to you assault! "I'm about to go back to the trailer." You muttered, a little salty. Crossing your arms you turned away from JD and towards Viva, who was screaming about how the new guests needed friends and milkshakes; Which the other Trolls in the village jumped onto getting. "If you go back I might have to follow you to correct this attituded we're having." JD snirked slyly, crossing his arms as he flashed me a knowing glance. Wiggling his eyebrows and winking playfully, leaving you slightly baffled at his boldness in front of everyone. "JOHN D-" You started, yet was quickly cut off as you hadn't noticed Clay's sudden appearance; or how he had rushed over to say hello to baby Branch and Bruce, giving a lack luster response to JD. That itched you wrong. Sure, you knew JD hadn't been the best to his brothers in their band days but that still gave him no right to look and act like that towards JD. You momentarily forgot JD's comment, or the fact that he probably almost killed you earlier (to which he would rightly remind you about your flare for dramatics, and how much he loved them) and marched over to where Poppy, Branch, and Bruce where. Poppy was attempting to introduce herself to Clay, who stood in front of them, yet you pushed past them and stood as a barrier between the three and Clay; Who gave you a weird look, and was slightly taken a back by your forwardness. "Hel-" Clay tried, but didn't get very far in his greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you had a stick up your ass that someone needs to remove, Cupcakes." You spat at him as you crossed your arms, shooting him the nastiest glare you could fathom at this point. Which was nasty enough to get both Bruce and Poppy to back up a little, and Poppy to slowly inch Branch away from you and Clay.
Though Branch didn't seem to enjoy the way you were talking to his third eldest brother. He opened his mouth to say something, yet you cut him off, "Furthermore, is that how you're really going to greet your brother after all these years? With plain favoritism to the others despite everything he's had to go through and is trying to actively change because of everything that went wrong, huh?" "Oooh'kay, Babe," JD carefully walked over to you, knowing you were a little on the edge; That and you had smacked him behind the head earlier and he wasn't looking for another one of those. "How about we take a step back and go calm down-" "Nah, Imma beat his ass!" It wasn't the best first meeting you could have had with one of JD's brother, and it also put a little sour kick into the two you had met before, yet it was eventful, that was for sure. Who wouldn't find it eventful for having their older brother's spunky girlfriend almost beat their ass over a few choice words and actions towards him? Yeah... you were going to have to do a little bit of work to mend that with Clay.
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@!; You officially, without the fear of him dying or any of the other brothers for that fact, met Floyd before the KISMET and BroZone concert backstage. You were there to support JD, and in turn his brothers. Sure, you had seen and heard all about Floyd before this moment but you weren't exactly sure what to expect from him. Especially since you knew that Clay or at least Bruce or Branch had told Floyd about the whole Clay fiasco on the way back. "You're (Y/N), right?" Floyd's voice from behind you caught your attention despite the current list of groceries you were writing. "Huh?" You muttered at first, having been caught off guard by Floyd's sudden approach. You couldn't help but wonder if he was here for some other reason than first greetings. "Yeah.. that's me... and you're Floyd, right?" Floyd would nod as you set down your pad and pencil on your lap, which was cross-crossed as you sat on the floor. Floyd, still a little worn down from all the talent that was taken from him, joined you on the floor and had decided to sit next to you. You weren't sure why, nor did you completely understand the sudden nerves that had struck in your body. You weren't this nervous when you met any of JD's other brothers; So, how come you were nervous now? Floyd seemed to notice this. His eyebrows frowned up as he smiled softly at you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm not here to scold you if that's what you're expecting." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, "I mean, I know what happened when you first met Clay but that's in the past, yeah? Plus, you were only trying to stand up for JD... which is sweet, I appreciated it." You jerked your head up to look at Floyd, a little baffled that he was so different from his other brothers. Before, you had been nervously fiddling with your notepad and pencil, unable to form a word to say to him. Yet, he seemed to somehow calm your nerves. Not instantly, like JD had always managed to do, but slowly with a firm reassurance. "Oh," You mouthed, before smiling, "Yeah, I still don't think I've made that up to Clay yet. I mean," You paused for a second, "I did kind of almost attack him just because he rolled his eyes at JD. It struck a wrong cord with me." Floyd chuckled, "Hey, don't worry, I get it. I always get that icky feeling whenever my brothers fight, but that's just how they are." "A ragtag team of brothers who both love yet hate each other at the exact same time?" You joked, cocking up an eyebrow. "And yet, we wouldn't have it any other way." Floyd replied with a smile, turning to look at his other brothers, who were all warming up and stretching. You glanced down at your notepad, reading the list of groceries you would need to get for the bus when JD and you set off again. There wasn't many placed to stop and get food on the road, unless you and JD gathered and hunted. "Hey, I don't know if anyone has told you this.." Floyd snapped you out of your thoughts again, "But thank you." You were baffled, "Thank you?" "Thank you," Floyd shrugged his shoulders, but his smile was so genuine and sweet. "For being there for John Dory when we weren't. For helping him at his lowest. You know, he talks a lot about you when you're not around and I don't think I would want any other Troll to be with JD than you. Welcome to the family, Sister-in-law." Floyd held out a fist bump, though knew you might need a minute by the tears welling in your eyes.
You had told yourself many, many years ago (when you first got with JD and heard about his band days) that you would never pick a favorite brother of his; Just incase it would cause some sort of family drama to arise. You didn't exactly have siblings, so you didn't really know what they fought about and what they didn't. So you told yourself if you ever met the brothers you would do your best to quell anything that came up. Yet, Floyd was making this very difficult right now... "JOHN DORY FLOYD IS MY FAVORITE BROTHER!" You rushed out, snagging Floyd's wrist and shoving it up in the air; To which he yelped, not having expected such a sudden reaction. John Dory, peaking in front backstage, stared for a moment. He hadn't fully heard you, but was able to quickly piece together what you had said: "WHAT?! BABE I'M MEANT TO BE YOUR FAVORITE!" "I don't make the rules JD, maybe you shouldn't have almost killed me!" "IT WAS ONE TIME AND NOTHING HAPPENED!" "Should have let me stay with Rhonda." You playfully shook your head towards your boyfriend, who stood in the doorway completely baffled and a little butt hurt. But, you couldn't help but laugh as his goofy expression, absolutely loving every part of him; His grumpy sides, his loving sides, and even his down-right baffled and confused sides.
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.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D
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skaye44 · 26 days
Text
The Incident
Avengers Bucky
Summary: You work up the courage to confess your feelings to your best friend who thought you were joking. You weren't. Since you think he doesn't feel the same as you, someone new enters the picture that lights a fire under Bucky.
Content warnings: Mild language, clueless Bucky, Bucky plays pranks on you so immature Bucky? FLUFF
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It had been two months since you confessed your feelings to your best friend and that moment still haunts you to this day.
You now refer to it as "The Incident" in your head and can't stop thinking about it, obsessing over it.
It was after a party, you and Bucky were hanging out on one of the couches in the lounge, finishing your last drinks before heading to bed. You weren't drunk by any means since the following day, you were headed out on a solo surveillance mission on your own.
Since Bucky arrived at the compound, you and he became fast friends. You were always a little shy around everyone else and he helped you come out of your shell. He would always sit next to you at meals, help you train by giving you tips and pointers, and he would hang out with you on your days off. You watched TV and movies together, and when Tony threw any of his famous parties, you two hung out at the back of the room and silently judged the guests causing the two of you to giggle and smirk with one another.
You quickly developed a crush on the super soldier but always tried to hide it. He would flirt with you constantly, even cuddling you close to him on movie nights and stealing quick pecks on your cheek and forehead. Your crush eventually deepened to another level, but you were terrified of telling him or anyone else for that matter since you feared you would lose your friendship.
Bucky had his arm lazily draped over your shoulders as you were chatting about the party when you decided to shoot your shot and tell your best friend you had feelings for them.
Once you confessed your feelings to Bucky, he just sat there and stared at you, unable to speak. You gave him a few minutes to collect himself, but he still sat there with a blank expression on his face.
When he finally looked at you, he thought you were joking and nudged your shoulder and laughed it off.
You were mortified.
He thought you were joking with him. He got up from the couch and walked you back to your room not even phased by your confession.
After your confession, things with Bucky remained the same. He still hung out with you like it never happened. He even started playing pranks on you making you more frustrated and hurt. He changed your shampoo to body lotion, he put a red sock in the washing machine with your whites causing your load to turn pink, a colour which you hated, and even put a rubber snake in your bed to scare you, which worked. You were terrified of snakes and are pretty sure the entire compound heard your scream from discovering it.
You were beyond frustrated with the man, so you decided to keep away from him as much as possible. No more movie nights or snuggling together, you used FRIDAY any chance you got to tell you his location, so you could avoid him. It hurt a lot, but you knew you had to do it because being around him made you feel awkward and sad, and in all honesty, silly.
There was another party Tony was throwing you were obligated to go to. You were dreading going to it since all the other parties you have attended, you always had Bucky at your side, but this one would be different.
He wouldn't be at your side.
You slipped on a plain black dress, black heels, and Nat did your hair in a simple low bun. You didn't want to draw any attention to you and this look was basic and straightforward. When you arrived at the party, you found Nat standing in the corner, observing the crowd. 
"Hey Nat".
You walked over to her.
"Hi Y/N, you look great".
She handed you a glass of champagne.
"Ugh, I want to leave already" you looked around at the guests.
You spotted Bucky talking to Steve. They were standing over by one of the bars. Thankfully he had his back to you, so he didn't see you.
You made your way throughout the room with Nat by your side. You met with the guests and were having a good time which surprised you. Nat went to the bar to get herself another drink, leaving you alone by the dance floor.
Just then, a finger tapped you on your shoulder and you turned to see who it was.
When you turned around, you were surprised.��
"Hi" he said as he smiled at you.
You recognized him as Riley Tucker, a forward for the New York Nomads, the hockey team you were obsessed with.
"Hi".
You smiled at him trying not to fan girl too bad.
"So, you come here often?" he asked with a cheesy smile.
"Actually, I live here so yes"
He laughed and you winked at him.
"I'll get you another drink". You walked with him to the bar.
You chatted with him for the rest of the night. He told you he was on a two-week homestand with the team and about his dog Lucy. You enjoyed the company and attention you were getting from him.
You felt a set of eyes on you the entire time you were with Riley, but you didn't pay them any attention. When the party ended, you exchanged numbers with him as he gave you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Way to go Y/N" Nat gushed.
You made your way to the elevator.
"He's really nice" you smiled.
"He better call or text you".
"I hope he does".
The next day, you got a text from Riley.
You ended up talking more and more over the next few days and eventually, he asked you out on a date. You went out for dinner followed by a walk in the park. Riley was handsome, polite, funny, and charming. You enjoyed your date with him. Once the date was over, he drove you back to the compound and kissed you goodnight. 
When you walked into the living room, you saw Bucky and Steve sitting on the couch watching TV.
"Where did you go to tonight looking like that?" Steve said wiggling his eyebrows.
"She had a hot date with the hockey player" Nat yelled from the kitchen.
You smiled at her and looked at Steve and nodded.
"Good for you Y/N" Steve said.
Just then, Bucky got up and walked out of the room.
Over the next week, you went out for coffee with Riley, met his dog Lucy and walked in the park, and even got the chance to head to the movies with him. He even gave you tickets to one of their home games which you took Sam to.
You were starting to like him every time you were with him making you slowly forget about "The Incident".
The only problem was dealing with Bucky at the compound.
Before every date you and Riley had, something always went wrong causing Riley to have to come and get you, or your date being delayed. You were pretty sure Riley thought you were a scatterbrain with all the problems you seemed to be having which made you really embarrassed but he was really understanding and patient with you.
One time your car wouldn't start, your keys would go missing, your wallet would disappear. You never had any evidence of the culprit, but you always knew who was responsible.
"Hey Y/n". Bucky came up to you as were finishing in the gym.
"Hi Bucky". You were suspicious so you made sure to keep a neutral expression.
"What are you doing later? I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight. I'll even let you pick it. We haven't watched a movie in a while" he walked with you to your room.
"I can't Bucky, I'm going out with Riley tonight, he's picking me up at 7pm. It's his last night here then he's on a weeklong road trip". You made it to your room.
"Oh".
"See you tomorrow". You walked into your room leaving Bucky in the hallway.
You were only going for dinner, nothing else as Riley had to get up early in the morning for his team flight to Dallas so you didn't want to stay out too late. You took a long shower then wen you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a towel and proceeded to choose your clothes. Once you chose your clothes, you had to do something with your unruly hair.
You plugged in your blow dryer and started it up.
When it started, there was a giant puff of white baby powder that went everywhere. It was all over your bathroom causing a big, thick, cloud to linger in the air, making you sputter and cough uncontrollably until you sneezed. When the cloud finally disappeared, you were covered head to toe looking like a ghost.
"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" you shouted.
You ripped open your door and immediately ran to his room, not bothering to knock first, before busting it open.
"What seems to be the problem Y/N?" Bucky asked in a serious tone.
He was reading a book on his bed.
"You know damn well what you did, look at me, I look like a damn ghost!" you yelled at him.
He was trying to suppress a smile, but it wasn't going well.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
By this time, Steve, Nat, and Sam were outside the door, watching the show.
"I don't know what you mean Y/n"
Bucky said in a serious tone while putting his book aside.
"If you're going out for 7pm, you're cutting it close as it's already 6:30pm. You better hurry up because you can't go dressed like that".
"Oh my God!" you screamed at him with your arms raised up.
"What is your problem Bucky?" you yelled.
"Why can't you leave me alone and let me try and be happy?"
"I don't know what you mean?" Bucky watched you closely.  
"I'm getting tired of the pranks you are pulling at my expense, and I am bloody tired of it. You're a giant child James Barnes, and it needs to stop now! The pranks only seem to mysteriously happen when I have a date".
You glared at Bucky who just watched you.
"Care to enlighten me about your timing?".
You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for a response.
"No" Bucky simply said.
"No? What does that even mean, No? You have nothing to say then?" you bellowed.
"No" Bucky firmly said.
"So, what, I can't be happy then?”
You glared at him, but he was silent.
"James, I'm waiting..."
You impatiently tapped your foot on the ground.
"I don't want you going out with that hockey player" Bucky finally said looking down at the floor.
"What?"
"I said, I don't want you going out with him anymore, I don't like it" Bucky said more firmly.
You didn’t see Sam, Steve, and Nat in the hallway gasp and look between one another.
"What do you care Bucky? So, what, I can't go out with him because you said so? Who then, can I go out with? I tried going out with you, but that didn't work out, and now not Riley, so tell me, Buck, who can I go out with? Who is worthy enough for me to date then in your opinion because it sure isn't you and now Riley?"
You crossed your arms against your chest waiting for an answer.
"I didn't turn you down Y/n".
Bucky got off the bed.
"Yes, you did Bucky, I confessed to you I had feelings for you, and you just sat there then shrugged it off like I told you a weather forecast and went about your day like it was nothing."
You were now trying to suppress the tears from your eyes.
"I just needed time Y/N".
Bucky stood in front of you.
"Time?"
You shook your head.
"Bucky, how much time do you need, it's been 2.5 months and you act like it didn't even happen!"
You looked down at the floor.
"You won't talk to me or mention it, you play horrible pranks on me, and now you're mad at me for me going out with Riley. I don't understand what you want from me?".
You were unable to stop the tears from flowing.
"You"
Bucky reached for your hand and held it in his.
"I just want you" Bucky squeezed it.
"What?" You looked up at him.
"I realized when you told me you had feelings for me, that I had them too, but I was scared. I haven't been in a relationship for a very long time and honestly, I-I wasn't sure what to do. I never thought anyone could want me because of my past but when you told me your feelings, I froze. I had a lot of things circling in my head that night and I was unable to say anything so I just put what you said aside and would deal with it later. I realize now I was an idiot and made you feel awkward. I want to apologize to you. Y/n, I am sorry for putting you through that. When I saw you with Riley at the party, it hurt me, but it hurt me more when you kept going out with him. I realized I wanted to be the one taking you out. I wanted to hold your hand. I wanted to kiss you goodnight, and I was jealous. I realized what an amazing person I had right in front of me and I let that slip out of my grasp. I also never gave you an answer when I should have".
Bucky took your other hand in his.
You couldn't stop the tears now flowing down your cheeks. The tears were now mixing with the powder you were covered in, making it hard to rub your eyes.
"Y/N, can you forgive me?" Bucky asked while looking deep into your eyes.
"I'd like to take you out on a real date".
You stood there staring at him in shock.
"I...I don't know what to say Buck". You looked down confused.
"Say you'll be my girl Y/n, give me another chance".
Bucky stepped closer to you.
You looked into his eyes and all the butterflies and feelings you had suppressed for so long suddenly came out making your tears run down your cheek at a rapid pace.
"Don't cry Doll".
Bucky wiped the tears away with his hand.
As you stood there in Bucky's room in only a towel, covered in powder with tears streaming down your face, you started giggling.
You couldn't help it.
After all you had been through and the sudden burst of emotion you had felt within the past 20 minutes, all seemed to come out at once and the only thing you could do to process anything was giggle. You shook your head as you tried holding in the laughs, but it was no use.
Bucky also started laughing while he moved your hands into a hug and held onto you while you laughed.
"I feel so stupid right now".
Bucky pulled away from the hug.
"I want to be with you Buck".
"It's always been you".
You looked into his eyes.
"Oh my god, can you guys just kiss already" Sam yelled from the hallway. You could hear Steve shush him and Nat slap him upside the head followed by an “Ow!”
You chuckled and Bucky scowled at the hallway.
"I'll tell Riley you can't make it" Nat went to your room to grab your phone.
You stood there in Bucky's room looking down at yourself in a towel covered in powder, just now realizing what you must look like.
"Oh my god Bucky, I look like a hot mess".
Powder fell from your head.
"You look beautiful".
Bucky put his hand under your chin and raised it up looking into your eyes.
He leaned in and gave you a kiss, which you happily returned.
"Finally!" Steve and Sam both yelled from the hallway as they walked away happy.
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popamolly · 27 days
Note
I HAVE A REQ FOR VAL
reader will be a one of the employees who works the cameras at the studio, the rumor that she has a huge crush on val gets out and he confronts her.. in the end having a few drinks which loosens her up and makes her confess how much she wants him and val shows her the time of her life 🤗🤗 (bonus points for overstim and degrading/ praise)
៸៸ ﹟CUT THE CAMERAS!
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pairing. valentino x fem!reader
warnings. valentino exists, valentino x fem!employee!reader, smut, oneshot, rough sex, degradation/praise (best of both worlds), overstimulation, reader is a bit tipsy, vouyerism (?), Valentino doesn’t get to cum >:)
author’s note. thank you for the idea anon! this is kinda long because i got carried away but i hope you enjoy <3 (I also want to note that i do not condone Valentine’s actions toward Angel in the show) and as always, request are open!
𖤐 MASTERLIST
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“Oh no! I’m a bad boy and I need a real hunk daddy to put me in my place!” Angel acted out the script well, his voice clearly blurring the lines of authenticity as you focused the camera on him and the four large demons that surrounded him. The demons were definitely jocks on Earth because they towered over Angel with ease, their swollen cocks in hand dripping with precum, ready to snap the poor spider like a twig, “Yes, daddy! Stuff me full of your cock!”
All you could think about was how lucky you were to be on the opposite side of the camera. You couldn’t even imagine taking someone or something as large as a forearm, not even to mention the girth— and there was four of them. Angel Dust truly was a wonder and you commended him for his bravery. Little did you know that he was under a contract that practically forced him to do the things he was doing. Did he want to be a pornstar? Not really. Did he want to be a druggie? Who’s to say. Hell was definitely that, Hell.
You focused on your job with a sigh. Which was to work your camera to get all the right angles, preferably with Angel’s fucked out face or holes in the shot. The workers behind the camera wouldn’t dare move from their post on set. Everyone was in their respective roles under Valentino’s watchful gaze.
‘Valentino,’ Just his name in your thoughts had your heart beat quickening. Everything about him was so alluring that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. You glanced over in his direction which was across the set from you, giving you a good view of the man you’ve had a crush on since the moment you got this job. He sat tall in his directors chair, right leg crossed over his left elegantly to expose his fish net tights and smooth toned legs. The sight alone could make you drool and he wasn’t doing anything else than just sitting there, ‘Fuck, he is so hot’.
But your thoughts were only just that, thoughts. A silly crush that you told yourself you would grow out of eventually.
You blinked out of your thoughts suddenly at the sound of Angel’s pleasurable scream of ecstasy. After a few more cheesy lines exchanged from the script the scene was officially over.
“And scene! Good job everyone, wrap it up!” Your manager claps before walking Valentino over to my camera to look at the still shots I took and a preview of the video. The lights in the studio came on just as the pair came to stand next to you. Your manager nearly shoves you to the side to take credit of the knowledge of videography like you weren’t just the one that stood behind the camera for hours. If anything you should be the one showcasing your work to Valentino and present him all the best stills you took during the scene— it was your work after all. But atlas you were nothing more than a lowly employee that can’t even draw the attention of the Boss.
“We will delete these as the light is a bit off and to the left, not really highlighting Angel,” Your manager clicked an arrow to scroll through the picture, “Whoever was on light duty needs to be fired.”
“Just trash the ones we can’t use,” Valentino lets out a puff of pink smoke in annoyance, “I only want the best shots of Angel.”
You looked toward the screen, speaking before actually thinking, “Well if you adjust the lighting and contrast on the photos it should be salvageable.”
“Excuse me?” Your manager glares at you, “You aren’t a professional. Your job is to hold a camera, that is it—!”
Valentino covers your managers mouth with one of his four hands before tilting his head at you in curiosity, “You can fix the photos, darling?”
You nearly jump out of your skin with excitement. Valentino was talking to you— actually talking to you and looking in your direction. All you could do was nod at his question before turning toward the computer that was next to the camera, fixing the problem in less than five minutes and presenting the stills to Valentino in anticipation.
Valentino looks them over with a grin, “Perfect, caro. You just potentially saved me thousands of dollars.” Now that he was standing in front you the tall moth man had a chance to take a good look at you. A wicked smile on his face as he had countless of thoughts in his head on just how he could use that perfect body of yours. Something about you had him twitching in want and it wasn’t like Valentino ignore his urges.
Valentino outstretched his arm to extend his body down to be able to take your hand in one of his, his lips brushing against your knuckles gently in a sweet affectionate kiss that had you swooning, “Follow me to my office? I wish to discuss something with you.”
“Oh—I—Um—Okay!” You agreed, stumbling over your words as you tried to ignore the feeling of your manager burning a hole into your head. Without complaint you follow Valentino up some steps and into his large office that just so happened to have a king size bed conveniently placed in the middle of the room, “Did I do something wrong, Valentino?”
“Nonsense! Quite the opposite,” Valentino gestures you to sit on one of his gaudy plush animal print chairs as he walks over to his alcohol table to pour you and himself a drink, “You captured my attention for the time being, how lucky for you, principessa.”
“I-I guess so,“ You gladly take the wine glass Valentino offers you, gliding your fingertips along the rim nervously. Your heart was pounding so much you felt as if it would burst out your chest. Now that you were prey under his gaze you felt as though he would pounce on you at any moment. And the crazy part was that you’d let him. You would let him do every dirty deed to you in the book if he wanted.
To calm your nerves you quickly downed your first glass of wine before letting Valentino offer you another glass. And then another. It wasn’t long before your head was spinning slightly from the buzz the alcohol gave you due to your lightweight nature. It for sure made this interaction easier and even loosened your tongue.
“Can I be honest with you?” You at least still had a clear mind to confess what has been on your mind for weeks now. It was now or never right? “I secretly hoped for this… for you to notice me.”
“Oh?” Valentino raised his eyebrow teasingly, “How naughty of you.”
“Naughty or not..” You sat on the edge of your chair, your knees brushing up against his, “You’re an inspiration Val, truly. I admire you and the work that you do.”
Valentino smiles wide, his gold tooth shining in the light, before taking a small sip of his wine before setting down the glass on a side table. You were giving him such an ego boost that he was starting to like you more and more.
“(Y/N), was it? What a pretty name,” Valentino wasn’t fooled by your innocent persona. If anything, he knew you were the exact opposite. He never breathed down any of his employees necks but he always did an intense research on them and of course nothing happened on his side of Pride Ring without him knowing. Every conversation you had with your fellow coworkers was something he heard about verbatim. This little crush you had on him was flattering to say the least and Valentino wanted to see how far you would take your feelings for him, “Have you ever thought about being in front of the camera instead of behind it? I could make you a star, sweetheart.”
That being said he was good at reading people, and it was quite clear that you were shrinking under his gaze. But it wasn’t from fear— no, it was from something more sensual. Valentino couldn’t help but smirk at you and think how turned on you were and how you did such a terrible job of hiding it.
“Really?” You looked up to meet Valentino’s gaze with such hopeful and naive eyes that your boss felt his cock twitch, “I’m not very photogenic…”
“Oh mio caro, that is an easy fix,” Valentino brought his finger under your glass to slowly tip it up, forcing you to finish your drink down to the last drop. Once you were finished he delicately takes the glass from your hands and sets it aside, “All you have to do it just find a perfect angle that suits you just right.”
With your mind slightly a buzz, you lookedup at Valentino’s looming figure with a soft look, “Valentino—”
“Show me, darling.” Valentino clicks his tongue, fluffing the fur around his neck collar as his heart shaped glasses fell to the bridge of his nose, “Show me how you touch yourself and I promise to find that perfect angle for you.”
With that you are gently pushed down onto the bed, Valentino’s soft hands gliding along your inner thigh before spreading your legs apart, which in turn raises your skirt you were wearing to your waist. A pleased hum falling from his lips as he noticed your pink colored thong you were wearing that had a wet patch beginning to form right in the middle.
“I-I have never..don’t this before,” You admit, “In front of a camera I mean.”
“Oh my darling, there will be no camera, just us.” Valentino took a long drag from his cigarette, “I can find your perfect angle through my eyes alone. Now..show me.”
You got comfortable on the bed, trying to relax your mind and invision yourself in the comfort of your own home. You felt so small under Valentino’s gaze and it caused nothing but a pleasurable shiver to go down your spine as you removed your panties which Valentino was quick to take from your hands so he could sniff them with a deep inhale.
“So obedient,” Valentino smirks at the whimpers that left your lips, eyes fixed on the way your fingers messily rubbed over your clit, “Aren’t you, principessa?”
You nod wordlessly, so caught up in chasing your orgasm, you didn’t even notice Valentino sauntering closer to you. Your fingers began to move faster and faster before they’re pulled away from you suddenly, a whine leaving your lips from your denied orgasm. “You’ll cum when I say slut,” Valentino orders, his fingers rubbing through your soaked pussy at an agonizingly slow pace. You gasp, hips rising for more contact.
“Patience, darling, is a virtue.” You bit down on your bottom lip at Valentino’s words, “You’re so wet for me, i just want to make a mess of you.”
A light moan leaves your lips when you feel the tips of his fingers dip into your needy cunt. You don’t even get a chance to respond before his lips are pressed roughly onto yours, his tongue instantly invading your mouth, your moans now muffled as his fingers continued to skillfully move against your aching pussy. Valentino bites your lip, tugging on the flesh before plunging his fingers back into you, your back arching off the bed at the pleasure.
“V-Valentino! F-Fuck..!”
“Such a good girl for being so patient,” His praises only turn you on even more, if all was possible. “A dirty, fucking girl who wants nothing more than to cum, hm? i feel you tightening around my fingers mio caro.” Valentino is amused by the way your pussy sucks his fingers in with every thrust, “Oh you have such a pretty pussy.”
You whine from the way his thumb ghosts over your clit, “P-Please!”
“Please what, darling? Use that pretty voice of yours hm?”
“P-Please…can I cum?”
Valentino chuckles darkly, thumb rubbing your clit roughly as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you in a fast pace, “Cum for me slut.” You clench your eyes shut from the pleasure, loud, sultry moans leaving your lips with each pump of his fingers. You feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, your walls clenching around his digits desperately.
“Ah—! Fuck!” You’re too caught up in finally catching your orgasm. That intense wave crashing over you, leaving your fluttering hole clenching around Valentino’s slender fingers as he continued to pistol them in and out of you at fast pace so you could ride out your mindboggling orgasm.
“There it is! Good fucking girl,” Valentino positions himself between your legs, placing hot kisses onto your neck as your body continues to writhe beneath him, your back arches from the feeling of his tip rubbing between your sensitive folds, a whimper falling from your lips from the overstimulation you felt, “Oh I am not finished with you yet.”
“W-wait! Val—!” You nearly cry out when he pushes himself into you roughly.
“Shhhh,” Valentino’s fingers curl around your throat, his mouth lowering to your ear as his other two hands pin your legs to your chest, putting you in a deep folding press that allowed him to go impossibly deeper, “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Look how this slutty hole takes my cock with ease.”
His thrusts start off slow and deep, each thrust nearing you to yet another orgasm. Everything about him was starting to become addicting. You wanted it all, his touch, his breath, his tongue— you wanted him to use you like his own personal fuck toy. You try to move your hips to match his thrusts, only for his grip to tighten around your throat, a low growl leaving his lips.
“You’re a natural at this, aren’t you dear? You want to get fucked like a slut that bad huh?” Tears began to escape your eyes as Valentino begins to pick up the pace, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust. The overstimulation was too much and you couldn’t help but cry from the overwhelming pleasure, “Look at you, such a perfect whore for me.”
You wrap your hands around his wrist to leverage yourself, his grip around your throat nearly sending you over the edge. You felt the sudden desperate need to cum again and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.
Valentino groans from the feeling of your cunt clenching around his dick sporadically, “You going to cum again for me, mio caro? Fucking do it.” He licks his lips at the sight of your tear stained face contorted with pleasure, bringing down his free hand to circle around your clit roughly, your loud moans bouncing off the walls of the dimly lit room, “Do it, slut.”
You release the moment the words left his mouth, Valentino’s thrust coming to a halt as his fingers continue to make a mess of your clit, the clear liquid squirting all over your legs and his pelvis.
Fuck, did he love this. You were falling right into his hands like a moth to a flame and he planned on using that against you. Your naivety and love for him was going to be your downfall and he would be right there with sweet words to guide your hand into signing your soul to him. You would be another star in the making, another flower ready to bloom under the sparkling light. And Valentino couldn’t wait to use that to his advantage.
“That’s my good little whore,” He didn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath before moving his hips once again, “Now you’re going get that slutty pussy to squirt for me again.”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.
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cloudy-dreams · 8 months
Text
I’ve spoke about the Infected Home AU before, since it’s one of my favorites! And I wanted to draw my interpretation of an infected Y/n!
This AU rightfully belongs to @suketchi-s !
Go check out their work right (here) and get a better understanding of the AU before looking at this!
Part 2 of the comic the is (here)
Facts and artwork about infected Y/n is (here)
Also! everything is strictly platonic between the characters and the self insert! Based off the boundaries the creator of this AU feels comfortable with!
This is part of the collection of art I have for this AU!
Content Warnings: Angst, body horror, mentions of animal death, horror elements, and Scopophobia!
Part 1
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(Decided to also write a detailed description of the comic!)
It was just a peaceful and quiet walk between Wally and Y/n, the two heading to Poppy Partridge’s house, since Poppy invited the whole neighborhood to have delicious baked pastries she made for everyone.
As Y/n strolled with their fingers intertwined with each other behind them, talking each step without a care in the world, living comfortably in the secluded neighborhood.
While Wally took his steps with uneasiness, looking at Y/n a few too many times, once he calmed himself a bit.
Wally spoke, in his usual calm demeanor tone, calling out to his best friend.
“Neighbor?”
Catching Y/n’s attention immediately, as they still looked forward on the yellow path that trailed in the neighborhood.
“Yes?” Y/n answered, returning their neutral demeanor, as the blue pompadour puppet stared at them with now growing worry.
There was a small pause of silence between the two till Wally spoke again.
“Will you always be there for me?”
Causing Y/n look over to the small yellow puppet, with a small smile that grew wider hearing that out of pocket question, titling their head a bit as they raised a brow.
“What kind of silly question is that?”
Y/n said seemingly seeing this question as a joke, they felt that their friendship wasn’t enough to already answer that.
Suddenly Wally raised his voice at them, seeing that he wasn’t being taken seriously..
“I’m being serious, neighbor!”
Y/n was caught off guard at the sudden small outburst that came from the calm and collected Wally..
Wally realized his mistake at raising his voice at neighbor..
as a wave of shame drowned him, causing him to muster an “Ah…” as he turned his head away from Y/n.
“Sorry for raising my voice at you, neighbor…” Wally spoke, embarrassed by his actions..
Y/n recognized that Wally was serious about this question and placed a soft expression on their face.
Kneeling down to Wally’s height as they gently took his small hands into theirs, softly speaking his name “Wally.”
Wally looked at Y/n, seeing a welcoming expression on their face.
“Tell me what’s bothering you, Just between you and me.” Y/n asked Wally, only to be met with a silent puppet, who eyes broke away from Y/n’s eyes, gathering up the courage to speak.
Y/n patiently waited for Wally to speak, as Wally’s eyes shot back to Y/n’s, finally speaking.
“I’ve been having this thought, it’s been bothering me for days…” Wally said as the heavy feeling in his chest was slowly lifting off of him.
“A thought that makes me think that you’ll be gone…forever…it scares me…” Wally said finally feeling relieved from sharing these feelings to the neighbor who’s closes to him.
Y/n was distraught hearing this come out of Wally….them? Being gone? Forever? Thoughts rushed in their mind, but kept a relaxed expression.
Suddenly pulling Wally into a hug, wrapping their arms around Wally’s form.
This action catching Wally by surprise, but felt relieved being in a warm embrace.
“Don’t ever say stuff like that, Wally!” Y/n said as they hugged Wally a little tighter making sure this gesture sends him a message, that they’ll never leave his side.
“Don’t ever ever say that.” Y/n smiled while closing their eyes, making sure they shoo away Wally’s worrisome thoughts..
“Just remember that…”
“I’ll always be there for you, Wally.”
Y/n said happily as Wally finally wrapped his arms around Y/n, closing his eyes, feeling at ease once more.
Y/n broke the hug, and their smile widen as they got up from their knees, still holding one of Wally’s hands.
“Come on, Wally! We’ll be left out on Poppy’s delicious baked apple pies!” Y/n said, lifting up the dreadful mood.
The two started walking again as Y/n looked back at Wally who was now all fine and dandy.
“Also, let me know if this thought ever bothers you again, I’ll make sure they’ll never hurt you.” Y/n said smiling, wanting to make sure Wally felt safe.
“Thank you, neighbor, make sure to be the best cure to this thought.” Wally said smiling at Y/n who gave him a closed eyed smile.
“Don’t worry, Wally, I’ll be your best cure!” Y/n said laughing at the end..
But now, this memory was now rotten…
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luveline · 2 years
Text
𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 
part one | part two | part three | part four
summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors [15k]
warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, you wash eddie's hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie opens the door and finds a little girl on the steps of his house. Little girl feels generous – she's barely more than a baby. In a set of tiny matching pajamas and white socks stained green from the morning grass, she looks up at him with wide, sad eyes. 
"Hey," he says carefully. "Hey, sweetheart." 
"Good morning," she says, though it comes out blurry.
"Good morning," he repeats with a breathless laugh, instantly endeared.
He curls his hand around the railing and squats down. She really is very cute and obviously well looked after, although he realises upon closer inspection that she's been crying. 
"Where's your mommy?" Eddie feels silly as he asks, but what else do you say when you find kids by themselves? 
He's not really expecting her to know the answer. She pouts her small mouth and Eddie freezes up. 
"Mommy.” Her breath quivers. 
"Don't cry," he says very gently.
It doesn't work, obviously, and she starts whimpering in a way that turns Eddie's heart entirely. 
"Let's find mommy, okay? Do you wanna do that? Wanna come and find mommy with me?" 
"Yes," she says, though it quickly draws up into a sharp cry. 
Eddie treks down the stairs and turns back, waiting. The little girl looks down at the steps and her eyebrows furrow as she places one foot after the other, looking like her socks are stuck to a fly trap. 
He holds his hand out. "You got it," he says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers. 
Her relief is palpable. Her brows smooth as she takes his hand, so small he can cover her entire palm with the meat of his thumb. She wobbles down the steps and then hesitates at the damp ground awaiting. 
Eddie drops his gaze to her wet feet.
She looks up at him. Eddie doesn't think she means to but her eyes are pleading,and he's already moving to pick her up when she lifts her arms into the air.
She's heavier than he anticipates. He quickly gets used to the weight, shifting her against his side with his arm under her butt, her damp foot digging into his abdomen. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other reaches for his hair. He can't help smiling at her as she pets the dark mess, hand clumsy but well-intentioned. 
He walks down past the van and onto dark asphalt, looking up and down the road to see if anyone's around. He figures she has to be a trailer park kid – she can't have walked very far, and she'd been waiting outside. She must've gotten mixed up and thought his trailer was her own, which hopefully means her mom lives close. 
The steps up into his trailer are on the right side. Eddie guesses she's come from the right. It's not a great assumption — he's grasping at straws. 
"What's your name?" he asks. 
She's taken a lock of his hair into her hands. Eddie worries for a second that she's going to try eating it but she only waves it around, looking pleased. 
"I'm Eddie." 
"Dee," she says. 
"Almost. Eh-dee," he spells out, again not actually expecting her to understand what he's saying. He's unsure about kids her age – he's unsure what age she even is. 
She babbles something unintelligible and Eddie hikes her higher up his chest. He strides out of the cool shadow and blinks, shielding his eyes against the yellow-white glare of sunshine. The little girl hides her face in his hair. 
He hasn't walked very far when he sees you behind the trailer three doors down, pinning clothes that look the same size as the girl's pajamas to a clothesline with unhurried hands. The front door is wide open. 
"Your poor mommy," he murmurs as he approaches, "out here doing the laundry by herself and you're halfway to Indianapolis. Musta got turned around, huh?"
You drop a small light blue dress on the floor and cuss just loud enough for Eddie to hear it. You pick it up fast and brush it down, looking over the fabric worriedly. 
Eddie cuts over soft grass, giving the baby's waist a pat and holding her ears away from his mouth as he raises his voice. "Hey, is this your kid?" he asks. 
You flinch toward him and your eyes go wide – wide, your lips parting and your brows jumping down like you might start yelling. 
You're really fucking pretty. 
Eddie’s quick to placate you. "She was sitting on my front steps." 
You still don't look very happy though your suspicion melds to confusion and then a stab of too-late worry. You rush towards them and Eddie turns his body to encourage the girl's gaze to you. His chest warms when she perks up. 
She wriggles in his arms impatiently and Eddie's surprised by how quickly she starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he passes her over.
"It's okay," you say softly, tucking her into your chest. 
The difference in body language is unmissable. Where she'd been restless (though more than pleasant) in Eddie's arms, she completely melts into yours. Her little face presses into your neck and her legs curl up. You pat her butt soothingly. "It's okay, baby. Where have you been?" You look up at him for an answer with concern lining your pretty features. 
"I'm only three down," he says. 
 "Oh… Thank you," you say roughly.
Your gratitude is unnecessary. "That's okay. She's real sweet. I opened the door and the first thing she said was, 'good morning,'" he recalls with an easy smile. 
Joy lightens your entire face. He feels his breath catch in his throat. 
"She did? She said that?" 
"Yeah, she did.” He tries not to sound as confused as he feels.
Your eyes close with the force of your smile. You encourages your toddler’s face back and drop your chin to plant kisses all over her tiny cheeks. Eddie feels something foreign yawning in his chest as she starts to laugh, a tinkling sound that's sugar sweet. 
He scratches his neck and pretends to look over his shoulder, tamping his smile back into a neutral expression. 
"She's having trouble talking," you say, lifting your head as the baby's giggles taper off. "She can talk, she says 'mommy' all the time, but she's s'posed to be saying more 'cos she's almost two and I know she can do it, she's so smart, but-" You cut yourself off and laugh all breathless and sheepish. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I mean- Sorry. Thank you," it almost bursts from you, "for bringing her back. I don't know…" 
"You just moved in, right?" You nod. "The lock on the front door- they're all exactly the same, you just gotta shake it and it unlocks. Even someone small as her can could get it open with enough determination." 
"She can be very determined," you say ruefully, voice hushed. You're still patting her butt, swaying her from side to side. Eddie's in awe at how quickly she's settled, her button features crumpled by a big yawn. "Always gets what she wants."
"I bet she does, she's a total heartbreaker." 
You take a step towards him, your beat up sneakers half a foot from his converse. "She can't help it, she was born this pretty," you say. He loves how braggy you sound. 
"I can see where she gets it." 
As soon as he says it he wishes he could take it back. Not because he doesn't think it's true – you're really something else – but because he doesn't want to creep you out. 
Luckily, he's rewarded for his bravery by another beaming smile, your words warm as you tell him, "They said she was the prettiest baby they'd seen in twenty years up in Eskenazi general." 
The name pricks his ears. "You're from Indianapolis?" 
"Kind of." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." 
"Eddie." He could applaud himself on how normal he sounds and how not normal he feels. 
"Eddie, I'm Y/N. D'you wanna come in for coffee? Or I can make you some breakfast? To say thank you for taking care of my Junie."
"Junie," he repeats, surprised. 
You shift from foot to foot. "She's a June baby. And she's getting kind of heavy these days, so. Breakfast?" 
He follows you up the steps and through the back door. 
"You can leave it open," you say over your shoulder. 
He catches an eyeful of your bathroom, an organised chaos that smells intoxicating, the rich scent of jasmine heavy in the humidity chased by something softer. Talcum powder, he thinks. 
You murmur something to Junie too quiet to hear and she rouses from her dozing, grizzling weakly. 
"It's breakfast time! Is that what you tried to come and find me for, some breakfast? So impatient," you scold her lightly, smiling all the while as you set her into a bright blue high chair with a big yellow duck with orange flippers printed on the cushioning.
You squeeze one of her feet and frown. "Your socks are wet. Did you go swimming in the grass?" 
Eddie leans against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He doesn't have any experience with kids. You make it look easy, pulling off her stained socks while she wiggles her protest and tickling the soles of her feet with the tip of your finger until she's happy again. 
You turn back to him, socks clutched in your hand. "I'm gonna make oatmeal. Is that something you…" 
"I'm an oatmeal fiend." 
You grin and do a lap to close the front door. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee? I got milk and brown sugar." 
He throws himself into the seat next to the high chair with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Brown sugar? Sweetness, you're spoiling me." 
Junie laughs. Eddie pulls himself up into a proper sitting position and gawps at her exaggeratedly. "What's funny, little lady?" 
She giggles some more. Eddie leans his elbow on the tray of the high chair and pretends to glare at her. "I can already tell you're trouble." 
"She likes you." 
"Yeah?" he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. 
You're half obscured by cabinets as you poke your head out, an open sack of rolled oats in one hand and a small pan in the other. You nod happily and move to the sink. He can hear the sound of the faucet and the burner clicking on, the saucepan sliding over the stovetop. 
"I like you," he says to Junie quietly, rapping his knuckles on the tray. "But don't tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation." 
"So, uh, how long have you lived here?" you call, almost smothered by the rushing sound of oats tipping into hot water. 
Junie makes a funny face like she might sneeze. Eddie watches. "Since I was a kid." He's smiling as he talks, amazed when Junie starts to smile back. He nods his head gently up and down to encourage her. "Too long. Not that it's not nice here."
Junie looks like she agrees. 
"For sure, but..  not always where you picture yourself," you say tentatively. 
He hums his agreement. "Whatever though, right? A roof is a roof. Even when the roof is made of cardboard and corrugated metal. I mean, all things considered, this is a well kept vessel." 
He's not just trying to make you feel better – you really are making a go of it. There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall. 
Smallest of all, a photo of the two of you together. Your hands on her shoulders, your lips and nose pressed to her forehead. You're not looking at the camera, but Junie is, and she's exuberant. 
Toys, though few, are arranged neatly under the TV. It's really the type of clean that takes hours. He wonders how you'd ever make time for it. 
"You got a job?"  
"Yeah, I'm waitressing at Benny's?" You say it like a question. "The burger place?"
"Yeah, I know the one. Randolph Lane, near the laundromat. Does Junie go with you?" he asks. He cooes Junie's name and feels very happy when the girl in question smiles some more, reaching out with her hands. Eddie offers up the same palm she'd taken before and lets her squeeze his fingers in a surprisingly tight grip. "She looks like a working girl." 
"Benny said I could bring her with me until she starts daycare next week, so she really is a working girl." You giggle madly and Junie loves the sound, her chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles. 
"I knew it," Eddie whispers conspiringly. "You have the face for it." 
Junie laughs like something is truly hysterical and Eddie can't believe it, squeezing the small girl's smaller fingers in his and waving their joined hands together.
"She really likes you," you say, closer now. 
You set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He pulls his hand from Junie's and moves the hot mug away from the high chair though she'd never be able to reach it as you set your own mug and a pint of milk half-full across from him, the brown sugar you'd promised in a pink and orange ceramic dish with a lid that clinks as he pulls it off. 
You double back into the kitchen. This time you bring a baby bottle full of what he guesses is diluted juice and two teaspoons, handing him one with a quiet, "For you." 
"Why thank you," he drawls. 
He spoons a generous hill of crumbly brown sugar into his cup and swirls. 
"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap.
He thinks maybe you sound a little nervous and wonders if he's the first neighbour you've met. Or maybe you're still freaked out about Junie. 
He raises his eyebrows but doesn't look at you as he splashes milk into the dark recesses of his coffee, watching as it bursts back up to the surface and turns the drink a more acceptable brown. "What do you usually have?" 
"Junie gets peanut butter and blueberries." 
He tilts his head toward his shoulder just slightly and plants his elbows on the table, the rim of his mug held in tenuous fingertips. 
"What do you get?" he asks, thinking that if the baby gets such a sweet treat you must get something equally impressive. He thinks of raspberries and chia seeds, flakey sea salt and bitter dark chocolate. 
You blink. "What?" 
"What do you have, on your oatmeal?" He punctuates his question with a sip. 
"Salt. Sometimes raisins." 
You make a nice cup of coffee. Eddie holds it in both hands and leans into the table. "That's it?" 
You shrug. Junie starts to whimper about something Eddie doesn't understand. You reach out to hold her hand. "She loves blueberries. Don't you, Junie?"
"Blue," Junie says. 
You're smiling as you take another small spoonful of brown sugar. You lick the tip of your finger and dip it into the well of the spoon until a few grains are sticking to you and hold it up to Junie's lips. "She loves sugar, too, but toddlers aren't s'posed to have it. Or so they say." You smile as she sucks the sugar off before wiping your spit wet finger in your pants. 
Daughter appeased for a moment, you hold your chin in your palm and turn your attention to him. "Where do you work?" 
He imagines this is how a plant feels when the sun comes out. "The Hideout, for now. I'm a very essential and irreplaceable bus boy." He nods very seriously.
"What's after?" 
"Music." 
Your lips curl into an interested smile. "Music? You a singer?" 
"I have a great set of windpipes," he says agreeably, grinning. "But I'm a guitarist." 
"And you're in a band?" 
"I- I was. Yeah, we were good, too, but everybody graduated and our drummer skipped town. I just sub rhythm guitar for whoever wants me to." 
"At the Hideout?" 
"At the Hideout." He decides on his next words carefully. You could come see me play. Weak. You're welcome to come see it for yourself. Too strong? You're welcome to come by one night. Bring Junie. 
He's not asking you on a date; he's a new acquaintance extending an invitation for you to get out and see a new place. That's all it is. 
He opens his mouth to try and suddenly there's a loud clattering. Eddie flinches, blinks, finds that Junie has thrown her bottle of juice across the room. 
Eddie waits for you to maybe tell her off like some of the mom's he's seen at Bradley's. A glare, a hissing remark to be good. 
You reach over and your shirt rides up your back. Eddie averts his gaze guiltily.
You put the bottle back on the tray, giving him an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, Junie has recently discovered that every time she drops something I'll pick it up for her." 
"Smart Junie." 
The bottle falls to the floor again. "She's a genius." You don’t sound entirely pleased, picking the bottle up again and holding it just out of Junie's reach. You shake it up and down. "S'juice. You like juice," you try to reason with her.
Junie reaches for it. You purse your lips. "Be good," you say softly. 
Junie takes the bottle and shakes it. 
It's a small victory and still softens every feature. Your eyes squint, your bottom lip juts out a touch, your nostrils flare with a pleased inhale. 
"Thanks, junebug."
"Tanks," Junie says. 
"Thanks," you repeat, bubbly baby talk. "Thanks. Say thanks, Junie." 
Eddie watches you encourage her over his coffee. It's quiet, peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with his Uncle. There's only the sound of the gas stovetop burning and your happy, patient voice. 
Junie says "Tanks," a couple more times. You don't give up. When she finally says something that sounds almost like a "Thanks," you whip your gaze to his. 
"Did you hear that?" you ask. Your pride is evident. 
He puts down his half empty mug. "She said it." 
"She said it," you repeat, your shoulders moving in the tiniest happy dance he's ever seen. You stand up and take her face into delicate hands. "She's my smarty pants. Aren't you, baby?" 
You dot a kiss over her head and head back into the kitchenette. 
"Tanks," Junie says animatedly, running on an affection high. She accidentally knocks her bottle over.
"Thanks, Junie," Eddie corrects, righting it. 
He finds it easier to baby talk than he imagined. Being nice to little kids – that's easy. Especially as he gets older. When they hit the pre-teen mark is when he starts to steer clear, but even then he can't help doting on them sometimes. Like his club – idiots, annoying idiots, but his annoying idiots. He doesn't hold back with them. He doesn't feel like he's holding back now, either, it's just different. 
Baby's want love. Care and affection. 
And to pull Eddie's hair, apparently. 
Junie's reaching over the gap with a fierce look on her face. Eddie pulls his chair closer and decides to let her try it out. She hadn't given him any reason to worry before, and she doesn't now as she takes a chunk of his hair into her hand. She pulls very gently, likely more that her fingers have gotten caught in his messy curls than any maliciousness. 
"What's your fascination with my hair?" he asks her. 
In her own home Junie's very noisy. When he'd found her outside she hadn't done much besides whimper weakly. Now, she's a riot of gurgling and humming. 
"Are you a singer, Junie?" he asks. 
"She sings all the time! She loves the Muppet Babies on TV, but I- uh, I haven't been able to actually get cable, yet. But when I get paid next week…" You come back into view with two bowls in hand. "She'll be in her oils." 
Eddie says thanks as you put a bowl down in front of him. There's a smiley face there made up of berries with banana slices for eyes. He feels something crawling up his throat and has no idea what it is, and then something completely different when he sees your own bowl, a stretch of plain oatmeal with no delicious adornment. 
You leave and quickly return with a smaller bowl, a baby spoon and a jar of peanut butter.
"Do you want some?" you ask, opening the jar to push the baby spoon inside. "I would've just put it in anyway but then I worried you were allergic." 
You hand it off to Junie and she licks at it happily. 
"Sure, I'll have some. Where's your smiley face?" he asks. 
Your eyes widen slightly. Eddie's not academically inclined but he's never been stupid, and he sees it for what it is, something he's seen in himself and in every other poor kid who didn't bring lunch to school.
"I don't really like bananas," you say. 
Whether you're lying or not isn't something he needs to know.
"Well, you're gonna have to share the blueberries with me, I can't eat this much fruit. I got a hearty diet of chips and microwave oven dinners to uphold." 
Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home. 
You smile and don't say anything for a while, rubbing the edge of the bowl with your spoon, your thoughts somewhere else. 
Junie's food sits billowing steam in the middle of the table, which annoys the poor girl endlessly. She wiggles and murmurs and sucks at her empty spoon with a growing line between her brows. 
Eddie eats and feels much better when you finally start to eat your own meal, leaning back in his chair heavily to loll his head towards Junie. "Your mom makes amazing oatmeal. You're really missing out." 
You choke on a laugh and grab her spoon to load up with another small heap of peanut butter. "That is so cruel to lord over her,” you say. “I can't give it to her yet! It's scorching. She has a fragile mouth." 
"I'm sure." 
He picks one of his blueberries out of the bowl and offers it to Junie, who takes it slowly despite her previously rabid hunger 
More oatmeal eating. Eddie ends up giving the rest of his fruit to Junie, your generous dollops of peanut butter more than enough to enjoy the oatmeal. He might argue it doesn't need any adornment at all.
You stir peanut butter into Junie's bowl and wrestle the baby spoon out of her tight grip.
It's a process to watch. You scoop up oatmeal, blow on it until you're sure it's cool, and push it into Junie's mouth efficiently. There's a method to it, the way you lift the handle of the spoon so oatmeal doesn't drip straight back out of her mouth. When it does you scrape the lip gently against her chin to catch it before it ruins her shirt. 
It starts to rain. Hard not to notice, a light drizzle opens and sprays down against the windows and for a moment there's no reaction. Then, gasping, you drop Junie's bowl back onto the table in stress. 
"Shit, the laundry. Are you okay to watch her please? Sorry. I'll be five seconds," you say, already heading for the back door. 
"Sure.” He sounds about as startled as he feels. 
The back door shushes open and your feet dip down the steps. Junie is not very pleased with her breakfast getting put on pause, her face growing as unpleasant as the weather outside.
"Mommy," she says, unhappy and loud.
Eddie doesn't think about it as he picks up her bowl. It's more a pulse of feeling than a thought. Feed her and she won't cry. 
He blows on a spoonful of oatmeal with likely too much vigour. 
Junie's still complaining as he holds it in front of her face. If she's surprised to be fed by somebody who isn't her mom she doesn't show it, her sticky face growing suddenly slack as she realises her oatmeal is back in play. Her lips part.
He feeds her oatmeal, does a very bad job, and tries to gather what's escaped with the spoon as Junie waves her hands around and pokes at spilled food on the white tray in front of her. By the time you come back damp and breathless with the cold chasing your heels he's successfully managed to feed her what was left of her breakfast. He's embarrassed to be caught but tries not to show it. 
"You okay?" he asks, looking you up and down amicably.
"S'only a little rain." You push the laundry basket onto the sofa and smile sheepishly. "You didn't have to do that." 
"And have the precious little lady starve?" 
"Starve!" you repeat, a feigned incredulousness to your tone. 
"She was giving me the puppy dog's," he says, shrugging as he takes the spoon out of Junie's wet fingers. 
She whines for a second at his robbery but seems to realise she's full, picking her juice back up to shake some more. 
You exhale through an open-mouthed smile.
"Thank you. She's gonna love you now, she loves anyone who gives her food. She's a real cadge at the diner. Never seen so much free cherry pie in my life," you remark, turning to what looks like your diaper station. You wade through a mess of things he doesn't recognise and pull out a packet of baby wipes. 
"And her mom? Is her affection so easily garnered?" 
"Takes more than a cherry pie to win me over," you joke, sitting down in your chair in front of the high chair with a soft sigh. You pull out one of the wipes and take Junie's wrists into your hand, wiping her fingers clean methodically. "I need at least a squirt of whipped cream on top before I consider any fondness." 
He chuckles and you laugh too. It's short-lived, your lips pursed as you wipe Junie's face clean. She hates every second of it, writhing in her chair like she's being tortured as you clean a mess of brown and blue from her round chin. 
"Sorry, I'm sorry. Done, done," you say, holding your hands up in surrender. 
She pouts. 
"Don't be like that," you scold her mildly. "Look how lovely and clean you are now! Eddie can see how pretty you look again." 
You slide your hands under her armpits and pull her out of the highchair, groaning. 
"Oh, there you go. Where's Mr. Bear gone, baby? You can play sticky bricks with him so I can get ready for work." 
Work. Work. Where Eddie was going. Where Eddie is very likely supposed to be. He checks the time and his eyes flare, standing up abruptly. You turn  toward him with Junie anchored on your hip, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity.
"Sh-“ Don’t swear around babies. “I'm sorry, I got somewhere to be that I totally spaced on."
You blink. "That's okay." 
"It was sick to meet you," he says. 
You blink some more and walk to the front door, pulling it open as an understanding smile curls your lips. "Super 'sick,'" you say, bemused. "Thank you so much for bringing Junie back. Really, I mean, if anything ever happened to her." You don't finish because it's obvious, your bright tone underlain with a burning fear.
He walks sideways out of the door and down one step, knowing he's super fucking late but not caring too much as he says, "Listen, I can bring you a deadbolt." 
"You could?" 
"Sure thing. Make sure this little lady," and he says it chidingly, directing his gaze at Junie who goes all shy and smiley from the attention, "doesn't go on anymore morning adventures. Especially without her shoes." 
"That would be… that would be awesome, Eddie. Thank you." 
He waves his hand and descends the last of the steps. "I'll come around tomorrow?" 
It's a Saturday today. He's not surprised that you're both working the weekend, but he is surprised that you're working Sunday too when you say, "Would after five be okay?" 
"That's more than okay. Bye, trouble," he says to Junie, bringing a hand up to shield his hair from the drizzling rain. 
You look lovely on the stoop, fresh-faced and in your lounge clothes. You tug Junie up your chest and take her hand into yours. "Say 'bye', Junie," you tell her, waving her hand. "Bye! Bye-bye, Eddie." 
"Bye Junie!" he calls, waving at the little girl with great fervour.
"Bye!" Junie calls back. 
You both grin. 
-
You're super tired from work and exhausted from an upset daughter. Even now Junie fusses. She hasn't been getting her naps because you can't set her down anywhere that isn't the wooden high chair in Benny's restaurant, which is months of a routine disrupted. 
You're not mad at her – the opposite, you feel awful to mess her up like this, awful that she's so upset. Trying your very best to calm her down, you're swaying her from side to side in the middle of your messy living room with your hand patting a steady rhythm into the narrow breadth of her back. 
"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry. You'll get your nap tomorrow, I promise," you say, trying for softness and missing, desperation eating at your tone.
You try not to have a heart attack at the thought of her first day at the new daycare. I can't think about it, you tell yourself, moving your thoughts onto the Sunday checklist. 
Junie's been fed. Unfortunately, she's the kind of wound up where the only solution you can think of is to get her in bed. If you can get her down soon she'll sleep until maybe 4AM. Not ideal; you'd prefer she slept later tonight and woke up at a healthier 6AM with you. When she does wake, no matter the time, you'll have her eat something substantial for breakfast and take a much needed bath. 
Laundry, bills, cleaning, it all runs through your head. Junie's hair, her snacks for daycare, her clothes. Does she have clean socks for the week? Does she have a vest top for tomorrow? 
Her crying grows loud and you can't think of anything except how overwhelmed you feel. 
"It's okay, baby, just go to sleep." You shush her softly.
Somebody knocks the door. 
You and Junie are similarly nonplussed. Her crying ceases for a second and her head turns in tandem with yours. 
"Oh. Oh, you know who that is, huh?" you ask her, making for the door while her cries are still on pause. "That's our new friend Eddie. You remember Eddie?" 
You pull open the door. There he is on the porch with a bag and a plastic case, wearing a shirt with short sleeves. You realise for the first time that he has tattoos. 
"Hi," you say. 
"Hi. Hi, Junie," he adds, looking at her tear-stained face. "Have I come at a bad time?" 
"No, you're good. You're great, thank you for doing this." You lean back against the door and Eddie skirts past you. That close, you can smell the heavy sage and sandalwood of his cologne and see the beauty mark under his ear, dark hair tucked behind the shell. 
He stops in the middle of the room and puts down the plastic case. "I'm gonna try to do it. Try being the essential word, and I make absolutely no promises." He makes a small cross with his hands leading out and the bag falls from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. 
It sounds like more than a deadbolt. Eddie sees your gaze and jumps into theatrics that hook Junie's attention straight away, ruffling through the bag. He pulls out a VHS tape and then a second, one old and one newer. 
"For your consideration." He presents them grandly against his check, his eyes flitting from your daughter to the tapes in wait of her reaction. 
Junie has no clue what a VHS is. She thinks the TV is magic. 
You swoop in and gasp loudly for Junie's sake, having identified his proffered tapes immediately. 
"You know what that is?" you ask her, pointing at the slipcover. "Muppet Babies! There's Kermit and Fozzy and Rowlf and Gonzo." You touch your finger to each puppet in turn as you reel off their names. 
Junie looks up at you like maybe she remembers, so you start to sing the theme tune for her. "Muppet Babies, they make their dreams come true. Muppet Babies, they'll do the same for you!"
The song jogs her memory. She starts her nonsense singing in a valiant but juvenile effort to recreate the music, dancing in your arms. 
You sing it again for her as you lower her to the floor. She doesn't whine to be picked back up, a great sign that her mood has turned, instead walking to the TV, a small silver combi with a bubble screen. She raises her arms up high and starts hitting the TV stand with her palms flat. 
Eddie looks to you as if he's checking that it's alright before crossing the small space and turning on the TV, your relieved smile more than enough encouragement. He's careful not to step on Junie's feet, surprised when she walks into his leg. She grabs onto his jeans and looks up at him with wide eyes. 
Eddie visibly softens. 
It's kind of crazy to see him, this metalhead dude covered in dark tattoos and wearing safety pinned jeans looking down at a toddler with nothing but patience in his eyes.
He drops his hand very lightly to her tiny back and pushes in the tape. "Hi, sweetheart."
"Hi," Junie says. 
She doesn't let him touch her for very long, falling to her knees to pull out the bin of stickle bricks hiding underneath as Eddie fast forwards through the adverts and then turns up the volume until the Muppet Babies theme is echoing against the wood panelled walls.. 
Junie's eyes dart up the screen, two bricks held in her hands and a great smile on her face. 
"Where did you find that?" you ask, in awe. 
He steps over her and comes back to your side, crossing his arms over his stomach with a smug smile. "Not telling. Ruins the magic. Got The Bugs Bunny Show for when she gets bored of Miss Piggy." 
You smooth down your rumpled black work skirt and smile shyly. "I can pay you back… Next week." 
He looks lost for words for a split-second. It clears fast, and he says, "Tell you a secret. I have a friend down at good old Family Video that let me have 'em for nothing." 
"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. You worry he's lying to make you feel better. 
"Uh-huh. Friends in high places," he brags sarcastically. 
You turn to watch Junie smile for the first time in hours and have to scrub your face to hide how shattered you feel. It's been a really long week. Your relief is a physical thing, a hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself deflate. 
"You okay?" Eddie asks. 
You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. "Thank you. Really. You saved me." 
"Yeah?" he asks, dialling up the drama. He lifts his chin high. "Would you say, oh, I don't know, that I'm your hero?" 
It's his clear joking tone that saves him. If you'd detected even a smidge of genuine expectancy from him you likely would've shoved him out the door. 
"Mm-hm. My hero," you croon, both of you grinning. 
He turns back to the grocery bag and pulls out a bottle of juice. "I was gonna bring coke but I didn't want Junie to feel left out." 
You move to the cabinets and can't believe how nice he is. You get a little warning stab, that feeling of if it's too good to be true… and shake it off. Maybe it'll turn out that way and you're not gonna do anything stupid to chance it, but he seems like a normal guy. A good neighbour who wants to be your friend.
You're in dire need of one of those. 
"What was wrong with the little lady?" 
You pour juice into a glass for him, less into a glass for you, and a half-inch into a clean baby bottle. "I can't get her down for a nap when she's with me at work and it really caught up to her today. She-" You yawn so wide it hurts your cheeks, covering your face with your arm. 
Eddie looks up from where he's kneeling in front of the open plastic case he'd brought with him. "Caught up to you too, I think." 
"A little." You smile ruefully. 
He holds something red and black in the air. "This'll wake you up," he says. 
It's a small hand drill. He presses down on the trigger twice in quick succession and Junie lies down on the floor to look backwards at him. 
“Woah,” you say.
Junie rolls onto her knees and then stands. She's in that stage of walking where she can mostly do it but has a great tendency to trip over anything that might be in her way, and she stumbles as she approaches. Eddie moves the drill away from her and opens the case wide to show her his array of drill bits. 
"How'd you like them, Junie?" he asks. "Pretty cool, huh?" 
"What do they all do?" you ask. 
"I don't have the foggiest," he says, grinning up at you. "And I really wanted to be cool and pretend that I did. I was going to, but you asked me that and now we're sunk." 
Junie pokes at all the silver metal and turns away, bored, to return to her cartoons. 
"I'm sorry," you say, not sorry at all. 
"You should be." He shakes his hair out. "Can't say woodshop was something I ever paid much attention to in school." 
You squat down beside him where he's counting the screws out for the deadbolt he'd acquired for you, your small cup of juice in hand. The deadbolt isn't new but it's clean of rust and that's all you care about. It doesn't need to do anything besides work. 
"It can't be too hard though, right?" you ask quietly. There isn't any need to talk loudly this close to him and your head is starting to hurt from a long day. 
"I hope not." He passes you the drill. "Hold onto that?" 
He stands and you follow, the deadbolt frame in hand. He turns to your front door and holds it up to the frame, far from the door knob. "Where'd you want this thing?" 
"Wherever you think is best," you say quickly. 
"Got a pencil?" 
You don't. You're ashamed to offer him a cyan blue crayon from Junie's arts and crafts. He takes it with a gleeful smile and uses it to draw a line under the deadbolt's two parts to make sure they fit together once they've been drilled in. 
Junie starts fussing and you squint at her, trying to guess what's wrong. You leave the drill on the small table by the door.
"Junie, you want some dinner?" you ask, walking up behind her where she's stood watching TV. You rub her shoulder and lean over her, your face upside down in front of the TV. "I don't think you're hungry. Let's change that diaper." 
She certainly doesn't want you to. You turn to Eddie where he's making clumsy crosses on the door in place of the screws, his brows furrowed. 
"I'm gonna go get her some jammies," you say, and then wince. "Pajamas." 
"Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks. 
A hot flush washes over you. "She's the only one I talk to." 
Again, that awful softening of his features. He's got the biggest, brownest eyes you've ever seen. "Why don't you get changed, too? I'm gonna start drilling." He waves the drill and you don't like how loosely he holds it. 
"Please don't ruin the door." 
A wolfish smile. "No promises." 
You leave all the doors open. Eddie's nice but you're not stupid – if he plans on kidnapping her or something evil this is the perfect time. Though, you suppose, he could’ve abducted her when he found her outside.
You shed your uniform and pull on a pair of loose fitting pants. You can't find a clean t-shirt, probably because you own a grand total of three, and you get distracted when the drill starts whirring and Junie screams. 
You know in your heart that it's just a baby scream rather than a sign that she's in pain and you still can't let it lie, rushing down the hall. You can see her, see that she's uninjured, only looking at the drill.
She's excited. 
"You like that?" Eddie asks her. "Is that funny?" 
Junie claps her hands together and reaches for the drill. 
Eddie frowns. "Sorry, you can't have it. I gotta finish the door for your mommy. Why don't you build me something with your bricks, yeah? Something big." 
Junie reaches up for the drill again. 
"I can't, Junie, it's too dangerous. Don't want you to get all mutilated." You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying. He turns the drill towards his chest and touches the drill bit to his collar. "Look, see this? It's not for little hands." 
Junie steps over the case of things on the ground and leans against Eddie's legs, insistent. 
Your mouth drops open as he starts the drill and puts on some fake anguished screams. "Ah! Oh my god, it's eating me!" 
Junie starts laughing at his fake screaming. Her eyes widen, her hands clinging to a rip in his jeans. 
"Think that's funny, do you? Heartless girl. Where's your juice gone, hmm?" He holds the drill behind his back and points to her bottle on the side of the couch where you'd left it. "You want that?" 
He goes over her head to grab it and encourage it into her hands. "Yummy," he says, his eyes moving to where you stand in the door past the kitchen, eyebrows jumping up. "Everything okay?" 
"Screaming," you say, awkward in your breathlessness. 
Eddie's eyes stay resolutely on your face. "She's okay. The drill is exciting. You're shirtless, you know." 
You spin on your heel and back into your room. Your heart a jack hammer, you sieve through clothes until a rumpled t-shirt that smells of deodorant but not sweat appears and shrug into it. 
Junie has a much better selection of clothes. You pick out some matching pajamas for her and a thick pair of socks and tuck them under your arm with her changing matt.
When you return this time, Eddie's drilling a third and fourth hole into the wall next to the door and Junie's watching with the teat of her bottle in her mouth, chewing but not drinking. You lay her mat down on the floor and grab her with a big sigh. 
"Alright, Junie, let's get you all fresh for bed." 
You change her diaper and she doesn't misbehave too much, Eddie's general presence a distraction. Soon she's sitting in your lap, dressed in new pajamas and smelling of talcum powder and baby creams, her wool socks soft as you rub your thumbs into the instep of her feet. 
You sit on the floor watching Eddie drill the screws into the deadbolt frame. Junie slouches against you, her head digging into your chest and her tired arms struggling to hold up her bottle. You hold it up for her, watching Eddie's hands and his arms, how they move. Muscle and ligament tense under the skin, tattoos warping, his bats propelled into flight. 
"I like your tattoos," you say. 
Eddie stops drilling to look over his shoulder. "What?" 
"I- I like your tattoos." 
He lights up. His back straightens out and he turns back to the lock, giving the last screw a final good twist. The door makes a groaning protest and then it's quiet. Just Muppet Babies, Junie's soft suckling and the compliment you'd given adrift in the room. 
"They're pretty sweet," he allows. You can hear how pleased he is though he won't look at you. 
"They're cool. Have you had them long?" 
Eddie starts to tell you all about them, fiddling with something you can't see on the door. 
Junie decides that she doesn't want to be sitting anymore and turns in your arms, hands coveting your neck. You lift her into your chest and rub circles in her back, the weight of her emptying bottle on your shoulder. Soon, her small arms go lax. There's a rush of air as her lips open from the teat and the bottle tumbles to the rug with a dull thud. 
He pulls open the door.  Cool air rushes in. He closes it, slides the deadlock into place, and then pulls hard to make sure it won’t come free. 
It’s solid. 
He laughs triumphantly and Junie stirs. You pat her back and make some quiet shushing sounds and Eddie turns around, a slip of his teeth on show as he grimaces. 
"Sorry," he whispers. 
You shake your head. "You're amazing. Thank you." 
If his cheeks weren't pink they are now. He leans into it, hiding one cheek behind his hair. "Stop," he says, exaggerated. 
"I'll make it good, I swear," you whisper, covering Junie's ear with your hand. "I'll make you the best dinner ever. I'm the best at Kraft's mac and cheese, or-" You flush hot, realising that mac and cheese might not be the treat you think it is to him. "Or we can order in," you say, doing the maths in your head. You can't afford it, but maybe Benny-
"Kraft's mac and cheese? You're spoiling me." 
You beam. 
Eddie cleans up the small mess he's made. You're afraid to move quite yet in case Junie's not really sleeping, though she's a dead weight in your arms, and you watch Eddie walk through the room with both caution and ease. 
"Oh, you don't have to do that,” you say. 
He folds the baby blanket in his hands and puts it back on the armrest of the couch before moving on to the stickle bricks, not looking at you as he says, "Just earning my wage, doll." 
You can't watch him clean your home. You wrap a tight arm around Junie and rise to your feet. Eddie sees your approach and his movements grow faster, rushing to clean up the mess before you can stop him. You don't know who starts first but you're both laughing as you grab his wrist. 
"Stop!" you whisper, mock-furious. "Stop cleaning." 
"Sh, you'll wake the baby." 
You shake your head in bemusement. "I'm gonna go set her down. Then mac and cheese." 
"Take your time. Lots of things for me to clean up out here," he says with a mock sincerity. 
You drift down the hall and turn back to sneak a glance at him. He's pulled Muppet Babies out of the TV and is rewinding it around his thumb, a small smile on his lips as he hums the theme tune to himself. 
With Junie finally in bed for the night you take a quick peek at yourself in the mirror on your nightstand and cringe. You look tired. You give yourself a big smile and feel better; a smile makes even your most exhausted features look pretty. 
You slap on some chapstick. You know, to counter your dry lips. It shines. 
Slipping out of the bedroom, you close the door as quietly as you can manage. 
Eddie's standing at the end of the hallway. You expect to feel scared. Instead, you’re perplexed.
"Hi?" you whisper.
"Can I use the bathroom?" 
You laugh. "Yeah. Course you can." 
You have to pass each other in the hallway. His hip bumps your hip, a short rub of fabric. 
You're still thinking about it when he finds you behind the stove, half asleep with your face in your hand. It's the kind of tired where your eyes keep slipping shut, not aching so much as blurry with a heavy head. 
"You okay?" he asks quietly, sitting down at your cramped table. 
You hum. "Hm. Just tired." You give him a guilty smile as you tip the bigger portion into his bowl.  "Sorry. Mac and cheese with bacon bits for you, my hero." 
"Thanks, sweetheart." 
The fatigue ebbs a little. 
Eddie’s easy to talk to. He makes you laugh. When you say goodnight, he looks back over his shoulder twice.
-
It's a funny coincidence that Eddie sees you Friday night. He never grocery shops on a Friday but he knowd when his uncle gets home in the morning there won’t be anything for him to eat after his shift. He takes a sharp turn towards the TV dinners and there you are at the bottom of the aisle with Junie in the seat of the cart. You're talking to her like you'd talk to anyone, though you didn't sound so saccharine sweet over mac and cheese. Close, but not quite. 
"What do you want?" you're asking. "Ham and pineapple or mini pepperoni?" 
Junie holds her hands out for both boxes. You let her take them and the two of you puzzle over the pizzas, heads bent together. 
"Pepperoni, right?" you ask her, quietly enough that he almost misses it. 
"Peroni," Junie agrees. You let her keep the box and put the other one back in the freezer. 
"Pepperoni," you correct, absentminded. 
"Peroni." 
"Pepper-roni." You sound it out slow, looking at a scrap of paper in your hand. 
"Pepper."
"You'll get there. Do you think we need shampoo this week?" You start jovial, but quickly lose your sprightliness. "Maybe I can put some water in the bottle and just… shake it up. No, we definitely need it." 
Eddie watches you look over the cart. He knows exactly what you're thinking, What can I put back?
"Hey!" he calls, walking a little faster to try and hide how he'd been listening. 
You turn on the spot and smile as soon as you see him. Junie, to his delight, is even more excited. 
"Hi," she says, hands thudding along the cart's handlebar. 
"Hi, Junie. How's my favourite neighbour?" 
She babbles. 
"I'm psyched to hear it. How about you, sweetheart?" he asks, parking his cart next to yours. 
You're looking very tired. Still in your work uniform with a hoodie thrown over the top and your smart flats swapped for a pair of converse with the laces undone. You pinch your cheeks up into a big smile. He guesses that with a baby you've gotten very used to hiding how you feel.
You don't hesitate to lay it down thickly. "I'm really good." 
"Yeah? How's Junie liking daycare?" 
You cover your hands with your sleeves. "She loves it. Loves napping again. She-" You frown. "She doesn't like the mornings. Dropping her off. But after." You nod with a tentative smile "Yeah, it's nice to pick her up." 
"Uh-huh. How's work?" 
"What?" 
"How's work for you? How's Benny's?" he prods. 
"You're asking me about work?" 
"Why wouldn't I be?" 
"Nobody ever asks about work," you say. 
You can't look at him as soon as you've said it, your eyes moving back to the grocery list in hand. It's an old envelope, and it crinkles under your squeezing fingers. 
"Sorry," you mutter. 
Eddie bites back a frown. "Well, I'm asking." 
He holds out his hand for the list and you give it without thinking. He adores your handwriting the second he sees it, scanning the list for anything in this aisle.
"Hey, tell me about it," he prompts at your silence, pushing his cart. It takes you a millisecond to catch up, but when you do you're near frenetic. 
"Well, I messed up like, five different orders today. And when I had Junie it was like they didn't care 'cos she's cute, but now she's not there they get pretty angry pretty quickly." 
"She's like a magic item." 
"Right," you say, sounding like you have no idea what he's talking about. "She was my lucky charm. 'N now when I mess up I gotta practically beg some of those guys to leave Benny alone. He's too nice to me already."
"Are they all terrible?"
"No, the regulars, guys in there everyday, they're all great. They're too generous. Benny's too generous. I know he's fluffing up my tip jar. I hate that. I don't want him-" You flinch. It's strange. Eddie takes a small step closer to you and waits for you to continue, but you've lost all steam. "Sorry, I don't mean to weigh you down with all of this." 
"I asked. And I get it." 
"I don't want him to feel sorry for me." 
"Hey," he says, reaching out for a box of cereal on your list. He presents it to Junie and shakes it around, "who said anything about all that?" 
"No, I know, I just-" 
Junie smiles her approval and he chucks the cereal in your cart with a rattle of metal. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse, I swear. I get it. I- You said he's a nice guy, right? So maybe he doesn't feel sorry for you at all. Maybe he just likes you. He owns that place. I don't think it hurts him to put an extra twenty in your tips." 
Junie reaches up. You turn to her and lean down until your face is a few inches from hers. "I wish I didn't need it," you say quietly. 
"I know." 
Junie puts her hand on your cheek. 
You sniff, not crying or anything like that, only breathing. "Thanks, Junie," you murmur. 
"Mommy," she says. She sounds a little concerned. 
"Let's go get something yummy, baby." You stroke her face lightly. "I'm thinking canned peaches. Or pears, um. Fruit cocktail. And condensed milk," you add, sounding unsure.
"I got a can or two of that laying around," Eddie says, because he knows that shit is expensive. "Wayne hates sweet stuff." 
"I couldn't-" 
"You let me come over for one of those mini pizzas and I'll bring the dessert," he says, like he knows you'll say yes. He doesn't know. Eddie Munson’s an expert in pushing his luck. 
Junie starts clapping her hands together. 
"I think she's decided," you say. 
-
You're terrible with a can opener. You whine to yourself as you struggle to get open the second can. Eddie had insisted on peaches and pears and fruit cocktail, because he wanted to try them all apparently. And then some dramatic speech about little kids getting spoiled.
You can hear him now in the living room with Junie. They're laughing in a way that you're worried about, that guilty, hushed giggling that raises your hackles. 
"Shush," Eddie says, faux-angry, "your mom's gonna hear." 
"Shush," she repeats with much more enthusiasm. 
"You shush! Look, don't do that, Junie, you're gonna get it tangled in your hair," he says. 
You carry the can and can opener with you into the living room. Something about tangled hair gets your heart racing. 
"Eddie, please don't let her get stickies in her hair," you say quickly. 
"They're called stickles," he says, dropping back onto his hands, head over his shoulder to give you a bright-eyed smile. 
"I know what they're called. Junie can't say stickles." 
"Stickles," she says. 
"She couldn't when I got them," you amend. 
He's up quicker than you can really take in, hands extended. "Let me do it," he says. 
He works the can out of your fingers. It's more contact than you've had with somebody who wasn't your daughter in a very long time and it leaves you shell-shocked. Eyes on his nice hands, bigger than yours with thicker fingers and his riot of rings. He presses the can to his chest and hooks the opener, peeking between it and you intermittently. 
"Go see what we made for you," he encourages. "I'll do it." 
His arm brushes yours as he moves to the kitchen and that's worse than his fingers. You rub where he'd touched and drop down on your knees next to Junie, looking over the stickle bricks with a smile. It's a heart, poorly construed and of tens of colours. It falls apart when she tries to pick it up so you help her remake it, cooing. 
"Thanks, baby. This is for me, huh? You're so sweet." Your voice drops to a murmur. "My sweet girl. Wanna cuddle?" 
You open your arms out and she doesn't seem very interested. "Please?" you ask, vying for her waist. 
She lets you pull her into your lap. When you actually start to hug her she does her lovely melting thing that she always does, a floppy fish in your arms but with tiny squeezing hands. You giggle at her antics and lift her up so her face falls into your neck. 
"Thanks for my heart, Junebug." She snuggles her head into your neck, hair squished to your skin. "I love you," you whisper, rubbing her back. 
"The works," Eddie announces grandly as he appears, two bowls in hand.
"Eddie, that's too much for her." 
"She's a growing girl." 
"A growing girl with a tiny tummy," you say turning her around in your arms. "Tell you what, you have that one," you point to the biggest one, "and we'll share that one." 
"How about you share the big one?" he asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. He sits down and places the bowl in her lap. 
You grab the spoon before she can and stir up some of the fruits. "Wow, look at this! You gonna say thanks? Thanks Eddie.”
She doesn’t say thanks — her mouth is too far open to form words. You make quick work of shovelling fruit and condensed milk inside, chilled enough that she shivers in your arms. 
“Yeah, that’s good,” you say agreeably.
She gets enthusiastic enough to take the spoon and you let her, even when she totally mauls the food, eating so loudly that Muppet Babies becomes inaudible. 
Eddie eats slowly. You can feel his gaze. “You’re not gonna have any?” he asks. 
You’d felt it coming. Your answer is clumsy anyways. “No, I will. I just… I always have her leftovers,” you say, sheepish. 
He stands up. 
You’re gonna ask why when Junie tips fruit down your legs, cold on the naked skin of your ankle. You dab at your pajamas with a small sigh. There’s no point in getting upset. She’s a messy eater but they all are at this age. Honestly, it’s nice to see her attempting to use a spoon rather than her hands. 
“You’re doing a good job,” you say. You’re not totally sure who you’re talking to. 
“Tada!” Eddie cheers, wielding a third bowl of fruit. “Swap with me?”
“What?”
“You think Junie’ll come sit in my lap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait, really. He holds out the bowl and you take it on impulse as he sits down heavily. 
He takes her into his lap with a cheerful groan. “Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. There’s enough milk on your chin to bake a cake.” He wipes it with his hand. He doesn’t so much as wince at the mess. 
You stare. He eases the spoon out of her grip and scrapes up a half-spoonful of what looks like pear and feeds it to her with the same kind of deftness of hand that’d taken you months to learn. 
He can feel your gaze, evidently, because he looks up. There, you catch it, that slither of insecurity he hides well. 
You pick up your bowl and start eating. It’s the nicest thing you’ve eaten in almost two years. You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it. 
The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?
It’s a small gesture and a huge one. A tear dribbles down your cheek. You lick it away and keep on eating. 
-
Eddie starts to come around every Friday. It’s a good deal; you make dinner and he makes dessert. After that first time he makes it his mission to give you heaping bowls too much to eat most of the time. Soon, he’s coming a few days a week, not always long, sometimes until the late hours, though you tell him desserts are a Friday only occasion. He complies grudgingly. 
You make your first friend in years, and it’s so sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself. 
Or what possesses you to offer to cut his hair. 
Eddie's sitting on the couch with Junie, his big thigh to her little one and a picture book spread between them whilst you clean the kitchen. He's not reading to her – she's trying to read to him. She can't read, of course, but she can remember some of the words in relation to the pictures. She pokes at the blue cat and says blue. She pokes at the blue dog and says blue. She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve. 
Eddie gives corrections and encouragements just as you would. You smile at him from behind your cup of water. 
"He's red, sweetheart," he murmurs, arm around her shoulder to hold the book's edges. "Red cat." 
"Red cat," she repeats with enough accuracy to make you choke on your water. 
Eddie gasps almost as loud as you do. "Right! Red cat! You're so smart, junebug, I can't believe it," he praises, squeezing her shoulder. His gaze meets yours and he smiles. 
You send him back your sweetest smile. If he wasn't always so nice to you you'd like him anyway because of how he treats Junie, like she's the fucking sun. 
She gets so excited when other people are happy that she starts laughing, standing up and trampling all over his legs to give him a hug. She's given him half hugs, she's fallen asleep by his side and loves to pet his hair, but this is a proper, tactile hug. Her arms wind around his neck with purpose and as soon as his surprise has faded he brings his arms up to hug her in turn, laughing delightedly. 
"You're such a smarty-pants," he praises, rubbing her back with a boyish brashness. 
She squeals as he squeezes her, his fingers digging into her ribs. Never cruel, only tickling her. She eats up every second of it and buries her face in his neck, laughing her wound up baby laugh that always brings a smile to your face. 
"Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-" 
He cuts off when Junie gets one of her nails caught in his hair. She jolts and whines like it hurts and he goes rigid. You move forward to play mediator but he's already pulling her away gently and making small shushing sounds. "Chill out," he chides lightly, "I got it. Here." He pulls the hair from under her fingernail and rubs the pad of his thumb over her hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologises, pouting at her scowl. He envelops her hand in his and waves it around. "Forgive me?" 
She doesn't learn her lesson, pushing her hands back into his hair, probably less kind than what’s ideal. Eddie doesn't flinch. 
You sit on the armrest gingerly. "Can I ask you something?"
Eddie looks over Junie’s head. "What's that?" 
"Have you always had long hair?" 
He doesn't balk. "No, of course not. I fu-" He clears his throat. "My mom was the best, and I fit in just like everybody else growing up. When I ended up with Wayne I was-" He smiles. It's the kind of rueful grimace that says, You didn't ask for this.
You smile encouragingly.
He drops his gaze to Junie, worming his arms around her in a loose hug as she continues to play with his hair. "I was mad about everything, and I remember him asking when I wanted to get my hair trimmed and I said ‘never’. Took a few years for it to grow past the awkward stage," he bares his teeth and nods toward his shoulder, as if allowing his past misdemeanour. "But now I'd say it looks pretty sweet." 
"I love your hair," you say. 
Eddie beams. "You don't think it's too long?" 
Emboldened by his reaction, you slip off of the armrest to sit next to him, turning in until your knees touch. Junie, loyal as she is, climbs straight into your lap with a babble. 
You pat her back with one hand and raise the other cautiously for permission. Eddie flares his eyes wide, as if to say, You want to? Go on. 
You take a lock of his hair between your fingers like Junie had moments before. "I like it like this." 
"But?" 
You look at the ends, an inch of limpness where the rest curls. "You haven't had it cut since you were a kid?" 
"Maybe not that long, but it's been a while. I do it myself sometimes." He gestures to his bangs. He speaks quietly. A rarity though not unknown for him to be so hushed. 
You tuck the curl you'd been examining behind his ear carefully. 
"Do you think my hair looks good?" you ask. 
"Sh- Sorry, of course I do. I swear I was gonna-"
You shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. What I mean is, I cut my own hair. I cut Junie's, too, and I could do yours if you wanted me to." 
He goes quiet. 
"Only if you wanted. I know it's a lot of trust, so-" 
"Would you do it now?" 
You hold Junie's head away from yours to prevent a loving headbut. "Right now?" 
"I'm in dire need." 
He throws his big brown puppy dog eyes your way and you couldn't say no if you wanted to. 
You explain how he needs to get it wet first and how the shower head in the bathroom doesn't detach. "It's, like, built into the wall." 
"I could go home, come back?" he suggests. 
"I can do it over the sink?" 
-
Eddie can't remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. He knows there must've been a time, some place in his life where his mom or dad had done it for him. He thinks that, if he'd asked, Wayne would've tried it once or twice growing up, but now Eddie's most definitely at the age where having his hair washed is a foreign luxury. 
And it does feel luxurious.
It shouldn't; the sink basin is very small as they tend to be in the trailer kitchenettes – small sink, small stove, small small small – and Eddie has to crane his neck. Already the space between his shoulder blades aches from being bent over, and he can't breathe well, smothered by steam. 
But your hands. One shields his eyes from run off, a gesture unnecessary and far from lost on him, while the other massages shampoo into his scalp. He'd been surprised when you started because you hadn't mentioned washing his hair, and he'd said, "You don't have to do that." 
You'd hummed. "Well, it's kind of a waste not to." 
That was that. 
Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and if his eyes weren't already closed they would've fluttered shut. He nibbles his lip and tries very hard not to show outwardly how nice it feels. Your left upper arm rubs against his back as you scrub at his roots, your right soaking wet beside his face, covering his eyes uselessly. He doesn't mention it. All this touching, he doesn't want it to end.
Your proximity honest-to-God sets him on fire. Your body pressed to his is a flame over his ribs. 
"Maybe we shouldn't cut it at all," you say, stroking wet bangs away from his forehead. "It's soooo long." 
"Can’t do it?" he teases.
"Keep your eyes closed, okay? I'm gonna rinse." 
It's a comforting process. You dip your cup into the water. It fills with a wet glug, the rim shushing against the basin's bottom. You hold it over his head and pour carefully, heat caressing his scalp as the soap is washed away. 
It's over too soon. You grab the towel you'd procured and tuck it around his shoulders, wringing all the excess water from his curls back into the sink. You encourage his head up wordlessly and he stands there, arms useless against the countertops edge, water sloughing down his face as you press the ends flat between your hands. 
You lift his head and push his hair back with your hands, raking your fingers through it and laughing as soon as his face appears. "Eddie! I'm sorry, you're totally drowning." 
He chuckles. They fade away as you pinch the corner of the towel and start to dab his face dry, dragging the rough material over his cheeks with an expression he can't read on your pretty features. Almost pensive, not quite. 
"There," you say under your breath. "Saved you." 
"My hero." 
You smile at him softly before spinning on your heel. "I gotta find the hairbrush. And the good scissors." You look into the living room quickly and then turn to the hall leading to your bedroom. 
Eddie looks into the living room too. Junie's not upto much, only watching TV, unusually subdued. He doesn't disturb her despite the itch to go over and play.
One of the muppets starts laughing about something and she laughs too. 
"What are you smiling about?" you whisper from behind him. 
"Nothing," he says quickly.
You raise your eyebrows. "She has a nice laugh, right? Doesn't matter how bad I feel, she laughs and everything's okay for a little while." 
He feels a fond stab in his chest. "Her laugh's like yours." 
"I guess we do sound the same." 
You do, but it's not really what he'd meant. 
The metal sound of scissors snapping. You wield them at him faux-threateningly and shepherd him into a chair you've dragged to the middle of the kitchen. 
Eddie fights goosebumps as you pull a brush through his hair, loses when you take a lock at the front between two fingers and stop about an inch and a half from the end. 
"I'm gonna do that much, okay?" 
You're a quiet hairdresser. Eddie doesn't care, he can talk for Indiana, but there's something so sweetly simple about the quietude, just your hands in his hair, the snipping of your scissors and Junie's occasional excited chattering. You start to hum a song Eddie doesn't recognise about halfway through. It's melancholy. He doubts you realise what you're doing. 
You draw silent as you round to the front. Eddie watches your hands work for what feels like hours. You have really pretty hands, not perfect, burnt fingertips and neat little nails. They smell like honey hand soap.
You pull two locks from the front together to make sure they're the same length. His curls will hide any discrepancy, he knows from experience, but he doesn't want to tell you that. Selfishly, he wants that extra time with you this close. 
You work your way between his legs to comb his half-dried bangs. Eddie looks up at you with wide eyes.
"You want me to trim these, too?" you ask quietly. 
"If you please." 
You huff a laugh through your nose and start to trim his bangs carefully. He closes his eyes, and maybe it's the fact that he can't see you that gives him the confidence to reach out for your hip, a touch that can't be defined as amicable. He curls his fingers into the soft material of your shirt and feels the heat of your skin underneath. 
You draw closer, as close as you can be. 
"What made you decide on bangs?" you ask. 
"Zits, mostly." 
He can feel your laugh under his hand. 
"I used to… I used to powder my face," you confide, a murmur, "like, an inch thick to try and hide everything. Being pregnant makes you so-" You pause to snip some hair, comb it away. It tickles his face. "Well, it makes you spotty. Or it made me spotty. It actually made me really sick." 
"That's must've sucked," he says earnestly. 
"It- Yeah. I guess it did. I don't know." 
He hadn't meant to bring up something unhappy, but he's hungry to know. "Were you on your own?" 
"Mostly." 
"What was the worst part?" 
"Being scared all the time."
He'd been expecting morning sickness or aching feet. "You were scared?" 
"I honestly thought I was gonna die, Eddie." 
He opens his eyes and leans back in his chair, hand flexing over your hip, as he tries to tamp down his surprise. 
"It was," you mess with his bangs with the tip of your ring finger, "hard. I felt sick all the time, and when I didn't I would make myself sick worrying about her. What if I eat something or I catch something and it hurts her? What if- what if it all works out perfectly and then I can't look after her?" 
"Did it work out perfect?" 
You rub your lips together. "Uh, I guess so. It took a long time, and it hurt," you sound especially unhappy with that part. 
He strokes up your waist, wanting to soothe the small crease between your eyebrows. "By yourself?" 
"Yeah, by myself." 
"I'm sorry." 
You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. "Not like you're the one who knocked me up." 
You drop your hand and Eddie really doesn't want you to go anywhere, his grip kind but steadfast, bringing the other arm behind your back in a loose hug. "Who was it?" 
"Just some guy. Nobody. Nobody worth thinking about." 
"How old were you?" he asks. 
"Why are you asking me all this stuff?"
"I wanna know about you." 
You bring your hands to the towel around his neck and pull on it mildly. "I was sixteen. Seventeen when I had her." 
He drags his fingertips up and down the small of your back lightly, almost like he's playing guitar. "I'm sorry you were all by yourself. That young. When I was sixteen I was still watching The Bugs Bunny Show."
You giggle and your hands move up to the side of his neck. He can hardly breathe, afraid to dispel whatever enchantment it is that he's under. 
"Could be worse, huh? I'm nineteen and I still watch Muppet Babies," you joke. 
"Why wouldn't you? It's the pinnacle of modern television." 
"Yeah?" 
Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out. 
A small hand on his arm. You both turn at the same time and find a very unhappy Junie.
"What?" you ask her. Then, teasing, "Are you jealous?" 
You lean down to pick her up. Eddie's gutted to lose your touch and then quickly exuberant when Junie ducks out of your arms to grab at his legs. 
"Oh my god, yes," he says, holding out his hands. 
Junie tries to take them and he slips them under his arm, pulling her onto his thigh with a big sigh. The sigh is half the fun, a theatrical reluctance when really he's always happy to have her climbing on him. 
As soon as she's in his lap she's pleased, turning her head so she can watch the TV across the room. 
You roll your eyes at his smug smile. "Shut up. She just wants what other people have." 
"And you had me?" 
"Shut up, Munson, seriously," you say. You don't sound half as mad as you're trying to. 
Eddie takes a drying curl between his fingers and pokes at the side of Junie's face. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, grinning when your daughter starts to squirm on his thigh. 
He grins at her and tickles her until she's curling in with her chin dropped to her chest, smiling despite herself. 
His fondness colours every word as he croons, "I got you." 
Junie sounds about as outraged as a toddler can be when he tickles her nose and then drags the tip of the freshly trimmed curl under her eye. He draws a big circle around one of her cheeks until it's kissing her chin. She dissolves into giggles while squirming to get away from him and so he stops, only for her to blink and tug at his wrist. 
He tickles her until she's screaming. 
You pause on your knees where you'd been sweeping up his trimmed hair to look up at her and he's struck with guilt. "Y/N, you don't have to do that. I'll do it." 
"No, you're okay." 
Eddie finds his gaze drawn to your thighs, spread out as they are in your kneeling position, and then stolen by Junie as she almost topples off of his lap. 
"I think…" he begins quietly, speaking to Junie though it's just as much for you, "that your mom deserves something nice for my haircut. What do you think?" 
"I don't think that," you say. 
"Wasn't asking you," he says seriously. Back in baby mode he continues,  "What's mommy like, huh? What's her favourite thing in the whole world, besides you?" 
"Sleep," you say. 
"Well, I can't help you there." 
"You help me there all the time. Junie sleeps like a log every Friday." 
"Food coma," he says knowledgeably. 
"You really don't have to get me anything, Eddie. My services were administered charitably." 
He pushes his hands behind Junie's back and pulls her to his chest before standing. When he has her secure in one arm he pulls the chair back to your small table and tucks it in.
"Get up," he says to you. "I'll do it, alright? Swap with me." 
You ignore him until he starts kicking you in the leg. "You're ridiculous!"
"You're ridiculous. Seriously, get up. You're not a serf." He returns your glare. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself." 
"It's my house." 
"If you don't let me-" 
"Christ! Okay." You drop the dustpan and brush sullenly, wiping your hands together as you stand before taking Junie out of his arms. "I'll make dinner." 
"No you won't! I'm gonna order takeout," he says factually, already on his knees and sweeping. 
"No you're not." 
"I am. Me and June already talked about it. She's craving Marino's pizza." 
"I'm not gonna let you use the phone." 
"I'll walk to my place and order the pizza to here." 
"Eddie-" 
"Why are you being a hardass?" he asks. 
"Fine! God, clean up your gross hair and order your stupid pizza. You're making me crazy," you say, collapsing onto the sofa with a little oomf, Junie's weight hitting you hard in the chest. She moves into a sitting position and pulls your shirt up, hands moving across the space under your chest. 
Eddie throws himself into cleaning all the mess you'd made for him, the hair and the towel and the sopping wet draining board. He washes the dirty baby bowl on the side and fills up one of Junie's bottles with water, then a glass for you. He hasn't seen either of you drinking a thing since he's been here, likely his fault for distracting you. 
He's about to call for pizza when he peers past the cabinets and sees you dozing on the couch. He decides pizza can wait until tomorrow; it's later than he realised. 
Junie's halfway across the room with Mr. Bear playing make believe. She talks and talks and talks, gibberish to him but what's likely an unending, complicated storyline, no doubt. 
Eddie approaches with the bottle already outstretched. "Junie," he says, and when she doesn't answer, "Junebug. Junie. Junie." Each iteration of her name softer and sweeter than the first, hoping to entice her in. 
He holds the bottle in front of her face.
She finally looks up with a pout. 
"For you," he says, offering the water. 
She seems mildly interested as she takes it, turning back to her teddy and talking around the teat like it's not there. 
You're struggling to keep your eyes open. Eddie gives the room a quick once over before kneeling down in front of you, tugging your shirt down to cover your exposed tummy as he says, "I should head home." 
You blink at him and turn onto your side, cheek squishing into the couch cushion. 
"Okay? Why don't you and Junebug head to bed?" he asks, using a tone not far from what he'd use with your daughter. 
"You know, her full name's Juniper," you whisper. 
He didn't know. "Really? I love that." 
You wrinkle your nose, sounding very tired as you continue, "But someone told me it sounded like a name for a cat. So I've called her Junie ever since."
"It doesn't sound like a cat's name," he placates. "It's beautiful. You chose well." 
"Yeah?" 
Eddie smiles at you fondly, eyes tracing down your nose to your lips, shiny with balm. He tilts his head to the side to mimic yours. He could kiss you. 
"Sounds like the name of an elf. Juniper Lightfoot, or… Goldwind. She could even be a mage. Juniper the Brave." 
"Juniper the Loveliest," you say, and then grin. "Juniper the Hungriest." 
"Juniper the All Great and Hungriest," Eddie says decidedly. 
"Would you make her a hero, in your game?" you ask. 
"Of course I would. She wouldn't even need to divide, she'd just conquer." 
"What about me?" 
"What, would you be a hero?" 
You nod. He doesn't know why, but he thinks his answer is going to hold a lot of weight with you. 
"You would be," he starts quietly, words painted slowly as he raises a hand to rest on your wrist, pinky finger spread over the hill of your thumb, "a fighter. With insight and survival." 
"I don't know what that means," you say. 
He leans in. "It means yes, you'd be a hero. You'd save kingdoms. Slay dragons." He squeezes your wrist. 
"I think I better leave all that stuff for Junie. I'll just cheer you guys on from the sidelines." 
"You're her mom, she can't do it without you. And even if she could I bet she wouldn't want to. Where's all the fun in guts and glory if you can't share it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your skin.
Your eyes shut. Eddie doesn't know if it's from fatigue or a want to end this conversation. He feels marginally embarrassed for descending into nerd metaphor with you, but he thinks it's the kind of thing you needed to hear. He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own. 
"Make sure you lock the deadbolt behind me," he says carefully. You hum. He gives your wrist one last squeeze. 
Junie looks tired in that she's getting agitated, whimpering under her breath. Eddie ducks down to give her upper arm a good rub. "Why don't you go cuddle with your mom?" he asks her, turning her by the shoulder so that you're in her eye-line. "Go have a lie down." 
He doesn't know whether what he says makes any difference but you extend your arms out and Junie walks towards you, big staggered steps that make him laugh to himself as he pushes into his unlaced converse. 
"Don't forget to lock up," he says in place of a farewell. 
"Goodnight, Eddie," you say. 
He waves. You're both too tired to wave back. 
He's surprised to find his Uncle Wayne still home when he gets in, shoving into his work boots with a grunted hello.
"Hey." 
"Did you cut your hair?" Wayne asks, perplexed, a little gruff. 
"Junie's mom did it for me." 
"'Junie's mom,'" Wayne quotes dryly, slugging his bag over his shoulder. He's heard all about Junie's mom.
Eddie scratches the back of his neck and splutters when a big hand claps his back, a demonstration of Wayne's pity as he passes through the open door. 
Eddie spins to watch him jog down the steps. "We're friends," Eddie calls. 
"Don't be dumb," his uncle says without turning back. 
"I'm not exactly known for being smart," Eddie says to himself, cheeks heated by a furious blush. 
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