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shewroteaworld · 10 months

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Movie Date Migraine

Premise: On a movie date with Peter Parker, a migraine strikes you down. You don't want Peter to see you like this, but he refuses to let you go home alone.

Reader is female-identifying. Reader has hair long enough to be put in a ponytail.

Word count: aprox. 3,500

tw: descriptions of nausea and vomiting, reference to childhood trauma (unspecified)

(Y/N) knows she should go home.

But, she can’t. Not until this movie is finished.

Sitting next to Peter Parker in the darkness of the movie theater, with your forearms touching and fingers brushing when you reach for popcorn, is typically an experience that sends heat dancing up your arms and butterflies flitting around your stomach.

Right now, nausea was the only thing pulsing through your stomach. And with the surround sound tightening the band around your forehead and the lights sending sparks across your vision, Peter’s arm touching yours is only adding to the sensory tsunami slamming you.

You denied it when zigzags cut across your vision when you touched up your lipstick in the elevator. You denied it when Peter’s voice distorted on your walk to the theater. You denied it when a wave of dizziness hit you on your way to the restroom. But now, you couldn’t deny it any longer: a migraine storm was upon you. A rough night awaits, but you’re not ready for Peter to get up close and personal with your migraines yet.

For your entire life, you battled with migraine. In grade school, the pain forced you out of field trips, sports practices, and musical rehearsals and into bed with blackout curtains drawn, a cool cloth laid on your forehead, and a bucket by your bedside. Not a particularly attractive sight for your new(ish) boyfriend to see.

The aura for this headache was coming on strong. When the actors’ voices began changing intonation like a chameleon changing colors, you knew a harsh spell encroached. You need to make it through this date and get back to your apartment before Peter sees you collapse in a pile of puke and tears.

And, you have a game plan. Phase 1: Make it through the film without collapsing or puking. Phase 2: When Peter walks you home, hold his arm and lay your head on his shoulder. It’ll masquerade as a cute gesture, when in reality, you’ll be using him as a human cane. Phase 3: Get home, lock the door, and go into Migraine Emergency Mode.

Slowly but surely, you were revealing your layers to Peter at a safe, comfortable pace. This shitty action movie was not going to get in the way.

An abrupt on-screen crash shocks you out of your scheming. The main characters sent their car careening into a ditch. Just as the jackhammering in your head began to die down, the car burst into flames.

You throw a hand over your eyes. A gurgle of nausea twists in your gut.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Peter whispers in your ear.

You snap your eyes open. So much for appearing nonchalant. You take your hand from your face. Red hot pain radiates down your body, but you clamp your lips into a neutral expression. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Do you need some air?”

On one hand, you could surrender. You could let Peter walk you into the foyer and buy you an icy drink to hold to your eye. Maybe you could even let Peter take you home and cuddle you through the pain. You know Peter wants to be there for you.

You shove those fantasies from your mind.

“No.” You whisper at a volume only Spider-Man could hear.

Suddenly, a yelling match breaks out on screen. You close your eyes shut. You can’t hold back a whimper.

Peter wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Honey, you don’t seem alright. We can leave.”

Your resolve crumples. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry” barely passes your lips before Peter’s slung both your jackets over his arm and looped the strap of your cross body bag around his fingers. “Please, don’t be sorry.” Peter stands in front of you, but you stare at your lap. Peter’s fingers intertwine with hers. “I’m sure this blockbuster will be here all summer.” He jokes, and in your mind’s eye you can see his smirk. You don’t have the energy to crack a smile.

“C’mon, sweetie.” Gently, Peter grabs your limp wrist.

You focus all the energy in your body to propel you out of the chair. You stumble into Peter’s chest.

He stabilizes you. “Okay, baby, okay.” He soothes.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“Sweetheart, you’re fine.” He’s bending down to meet your eyes, but you refuse to look at his face. “Lean on me. Let’s get you out of here.”

With Peter’s arm wrapped around your waist and your head resting on his chest, you descend the cinema stairs and make your way out of the theater.

***

Getting down the stairs wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. Typically, during a migraine, stairs are your personal hell.

But, with Spider-Man supporting most of your bodyweight, the physical exertion lessens significantly.

Plus, it’s not just the safety of Spider-Man that’s helping. It’s Peter Parker’s safe hands holding you close. It’s Peter Parker's frame shielding you from gruff moviegoers working their way around you down the mall steps. It’s Peter Parker keeping you upright, and that’s enough to keep your brain generating numbing happy chemicals even in the worst of times.

Peter guides you to a bench next to the atrium. You lay your head on his shoulder, but abruptly sit up.

This nightmare gets worse from here. You have to go home by yourself. You’re not ready for this. You’re not–

“(Y/N), honey? Are you with me?” Peter’s tenderly cradling your face. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You blink. “I’m here, I’m here.” You take a deep breath to ground yourself from the swirling dizziness. You force a weak smile. “Just a little headache.”

Peter cocks an eyebrow. “A little headache?” He cradles your chin. “You look like you’ve been concussed, babe.” Softer, he asks, “Do you get migraines?”

Your chest falls. The jig is up. “Yeah, I’m having a migraine.”

“Okay.” His tone is soft, but there’s a hardness in his eyes and a pinch between his brows and you know it’s not from worry. He’s annoyed you didn’t tell him. If there’s one thing that puts a rift between you and Peter, it’s that you won’t let him help you. You didn’t tell him when you forgot your lunch the day you had a big presentation. You didn’t tell him when your insomnia came back. You didn’t tell him when you caught the 24-hour bug 2 months ago. And now he knows you’ve been hiding this.

“I’m sorry.” You squeak.

“Oh, honey, no.” Peter whispers. “Let’s just focus on getting you out of here and in bed. Don’t even think. I’ll get you back to my apartment.”

“No,” you shake your head but stop when nausea slithers up your throat. You swallow hard. “No, I need to go home.”

“Sweetheart, your apartment’s across town, and I don’t think you can walk or swing right now.”

The damp wool of your sweater constricts your sweaty skin. “I have all my medication and things in my apartment.” You argue, but the fight in your voice is weak.

“I have lots of meds and supplies stocked because of…you know. I think I’ve got everything you need, and I can always swing over to your apartment to grab something.”

Suddenly, a crowd of moviegoers comes stomping towards the foyer, ushering in a cacophony of laughter and voices.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and Peter drags your face into his shoulder. You fist his sweatshirt and squeeze until your fingers hurt.

“Let’s get you home, my love.” He whispers.

You know by home he doesn’t mean your apartment. You know he means his place, where you spend half of your time and have your personal belongings threaded through his.

Maybe it’s the crippling exhaustion. Maybe it’s the fact that every step sends pain shooting through your skull. Regardless, you surprise yourself with your answer.

“Okay.”

***

“I know, I’m sorry, honey.” Peter whispers into your hair. He presses your body against his side as he leads you to the second set of elevators in the foyer.

Dating a chemical engineer has its perks; Peter could afford a nice apartment. However, the first set of elevators broke an hour after you left for your date. More steps for you.

Even with Peter nearly carrying you, the final stretch to the elevator feels like a mile. The wait for the elevator to arrive worsens when a twist of nausea wracks your stomach. But soon, the elevator doors ding open.

As soon as the doors shut behind you, you push against Peter’s hold.

“Babe?” He asks. He lets you go free.

You sink to the floor and unbutton your jacket. You take a deep breath, reveling in the coolness of the air conditioning and freedom from residual body heat.

“I feel nauseous.” You groan.

He kneels next to you. “Do you need to throw up?” There was something about his hand on your shoulder, his tone, and his stern yet compassionate expression that reminded you of Spider-Man. He’d likely posed that same question on the beat to trauma victims. The guilt bubbling in your stomach amps up the queasiness.

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“No.” You say. Peter cocks his brow again. Despite yourself, you shrink. “Maybe later. Not at this moment.”

“Okay, darling. Would you let me carry you in?”

You swallow your shame. “Yes,” you say.

Peters picks you up as if you weigh a feather. You wrap your arms around his neck as the elevator opens to his floor.

***

You’re laying in Peter’s bed with his sheets wrapped around your face. Even with the blinds drawn, the New York City lights burn your sensitive eyes.

Despite your prior objections, you can’t deny the comfort of laying in Peter’s soft duvet with the spicy scent of his cologne filling your nose.

You hear the creak of the door as Peter steps into the room.

“Baby?” He whispers. “I brought you some stuff.”

Peter’s gait is slow and light, as if he’s trying not to creak the floorboards. Something taps the bedside table next to you.

“Can I see your head, baby? I know it’s bright outside, but I have this wrap around ice pack I think will really help.”

With a groan, you pull the blankets below your chin. You crack open your eyes, and to your surprise, Peter is holding a black version of your favorite migraine ice pack. It’s like a thick bandage that wraps around your eyes and forehead and velcros closed in the back. It’s cold, pitch black heaven.

You smile weakly. “Thanks, Peter.” You mumble. Dating someone with super hearing is a huge perk when you’re a migraineur.

“Of course.” He whispers.

Peter lays the ice pack on your forehead, and your body relaxes. The pain still pulses like a bass drum beat in a metal song, but at least there’s something combating it.

“Can I help you sit up, sweetie? I want to tie this behind your head.”

You hum your approval.

Gently, Peter raises your limp body and velcros the ends of the ice pack behind your head, creating 360 degree relief.

You moan in relief. “Thank you, Peter.”

“Oh course, sweetheart. There's a glass of water on the bedside table for you. Would you like some Pepto-Bismol?”

You hold back a gag. “No.” You croak. “But thanks.”

“After I change, can I get into bed next to you?”

You can’t help but smile. He’s so conscientious. Too conscientious. “Of course, Peter.”

A few minutes later, the bed slowly sinks as Peter gingerly adds his weight.

“Can I speak, darling?” He asks.

“Mm-hmm.” You hum.

“I’ve never been with you during a migraine before. I want to know how to take care of you. Could you answer some yes or no questions for me?” He whispers. “You don’t need to speak. Maybe one finger for yes and two for no.”

You point your index finger.

“Excellent.” Peter says. “Are you sensitive to light?”

You hold up one finger.

“Are you sensitive to sound?”

Once again, one finger.

“Are you sensitive to touch?”

You hold up two fingers. There’s some nuance to that, but there was only so much you could communicate. You really needed some sleep.

“Okay. Can I hold you?”

Warmth fills your ribcage. “I can’t lay on my side, but could you hold my hand?” Heat burns your cheeks. “And maybe lay against me?”

“Of course.” Peter whispers, a smile in his voice.

He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder. “Goodnight, my love. Feel better.”

***

You wake to a knot in your stomach. You twist onto your side which only tightens the cramp.

You moan. Your eyes crack open only to be weighed down by the ice pack from last night.

Last night. Peter was a saint. You were an embarrassment. A well-loved and well-cared for embarrassment, but falling over yourself all the same.

Your shame spiral stops as soon as it begins when a bubble of queasiness turns you rigid.

Shit.

Not here.

Not now.

You take a deep breath. Peter is slumped against your back, and thanks to his spidey senses, an infinitesimal movement could wake him up. To make matter worse, when it came to you, Peter was always extra jumpy. It was a miracle he hadn’t woken already.

You take another deep breath. Maybe if you lay as still as a statue, the nausea will go away and you’ll drift off to sleep.

A second later, like a wave careening to shore, nausea swells in your chest and up your throat. You sprint from the bed, shoving the sheets onto Peter who instantly jumps awake.

You dash into the bathroom, nearly tripping over your own feet when the carpet transitions to ice cold tile.

You collapse and promptly stick your head into Peter’s toilet bowl. Your face burns with embarrassment, and the humiliation has not reached its peak.

You dry heave three times. Of course, when you start throwing up, you feel your hair being lifted from your shoulders.

“I’m so sorry.” Peter whispers. He must have grabbed a scrunchie from your purse, because your hair stays off your face and neck while Peter’s hands rub your back and hold your hand gripping the toilet tank cover.

You can’t get out the words “get out!” to Peter with all the retching in the way.

“It’s alright. You’re alright. Breathe, baby.” Peter whispers. He draws wide circles on your upper back, and your shoulders betray you by relaxing into his palm.

You didn’t think your stomach could hold so much. You continue to gag, making a mess of Peter’s bathroom, but Peter never flinches. He continues whispering sweet nothings to you until you finish expelling all of last night’s dinner and popcorn.

Stomach aching, you collapse against Peter’s chest.

“You okay?” Peter asks.

“Yeah.” You pant.

“Take some deep breaths.” He whispers. “Would you like some water?”

“Could you make me ginger tea?” You ask. Guilt tightens your throat. You were already puking in his bathroom– you could’ve settled for plain water.

But that’s exactly what Peter has been insisting you work on– being honest about asking for what you need.

He kisses your temple. “Of course.” He says, a smile in his voice.

Two minutes later, Peter returns to the bathroom, a steaming mug in his hand.

He places your tea on the edge of the marble counter. “It’s still brewing.” He whispers.

“You can speak at a normal volume now.” You croak. You were laying on the floor, arms and legs limp yet heavy as lead.

“Is your headache better?” He asks.

“Marginally,” You say. “If I throw up, it’s usually better after.” Like the climax of a movie, once you puke during a migraine attack, it’s usually coming to its resolution.

“Okay.” Peter said, returning to his normal volume. He sits next to you. “Do you want to brush your teeth and go back to sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

Five minutes later, you’re curled under the covers, half a mug of ginger tea sitting on Peter’s bedside table.

You’re about to slip into slumber when Peter asks you a question.

“Can I text your boss that you’re not coming in tomorrow?”

Your breath hitches. Your instincts scream “No!” You have to go to work.

You take what feels like your millionth deep breath in the past 24 hours. But going to work wouldn't be good for your body. You already tried to sit through an action film with a migraine which resulted in you hurling at 3 am. It was time to take Peter’s advice and give your body a break.

“Yes.” You say, relief and guilt washing over you simultaneously.

“Okay.” Peter says, satisfaction in his voice. “Sleep tight, my love. Rest up.”

Peter presses a soft kiss against your hairline as you fall back to sleep.

***

“We need to talk.”

“I know,” you say. You knew this was coming. As soon as you walked into the kitchen this morning, you could tell Peter was holding something in from the hitch in his jaw. Being the gentleman he is, he gave you the grace of waking up a bit more and making sure your migraine was gone before starting any serious conversation. You watch the brown sugar dissolve into your peppermint tea as you trace the spoon around the circumference of the mug.

“Can we sit?” He asks.

You stop stirring. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You keep your back turned to him. Guilty tears fill your eyes.

“(Y/N), look at me. I’m not mad, I’m just….frustrated? I’m at a loss.” He amends.

Blinking wasn’t helping. You twist your face further away from Peter, determined not to let him catch a glimpse of your melodrama from the kitchen table. “It’s okay if you're angry with me. We already talked about this. And I ruined your night.”

“But that’s the problem.” Peter says. “You didn’t ruin anything. The reason I’m annoyed is because you think any little inconvenience like you being sick or unhappy is an annoyance when it’s really not. You’re my girlfriend, and I want to help. I want to figure out how to help you.” He sighs. “And before I can do that, I want to figure out what I can do better to build that trust between us."

You face Peter. “Peter, there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve been perfect.” Peter Parker is more of a perfect boyfriend than you could’ve imagined. He’s a human– he’s flawed— but he has one of the most beautiful souls you’ve ever come across. “It’s just me, I’m just…scared.” You admit. You turn your gaze to the kitchen island.

“What can I do to help you feel safer?”

And there was the crux of the issue: Peter has done everything to make you feel safe. But the wall between you and Peter has nothing to do with Peter.

“It’s hard for me to feel vulnerable with people because of…you know.”

Peter nods. He knew most of the unsavory details of your bittersweet childhood. “I know. Did I do something that triggered memories?” Peter asks, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“Peter.” You meet his eyes for the second time. “Absolutely not. You’re so good to me.” A tear drips down your cheek. “I want to tell you. About everything. I want to call you when I’m sick and tell you when I’m hurting.” You blink up at the ceiling. “It’s just so hard to break through that wall. To feel safe feeling vulnerable again. And I’ve talked about it with my therapist, I’ve been trying it’s just…such a big step.”

“Would it help if we discuss it together? All three of us?” Peter asks. The confusion must have shown on your face. “Maybe we could have a session together so we could work through this.”

“Really?” You ask, voice cracking.

“Of course, really.” Peter says, half-smiling.

“You’re not breaking up with me?” The question slips from your lips before you can hold your tongue.

Peter looks like he’s been slapped. “Over a migraine?”

“Over not being vulnerable enough. Not giving you enough.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth. You weren’t able to give Peter what he needed. Your caged heart won’t open.

Peter stands. “(Y/N), you’ve given me more than enough. Who’s there to stitch me after patrol? Who’s on the phone with me at 3 o’clock in the morning when I have night terrors? Who has all of my grounding strategies memorized because I have panic attacks?”

A small smile slips onto your face. “Me.”

“(Y/N),” Peter smiles. “You’re the most amazing girlfriend I could ask for.”

You open your arms, and Peter wraps you in the warmest hug.

Even with someone as safe and loving as Peter, being vulnerable was going to be hard. But if there’s someone you want to go on this trek with, it was Peter Parker.

“I wouldn't want to go on this journey with anyone but you.”

Peter squeezes you tighter. “We’ll get through this together.”

---

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first fic I've ever finished, and I'm super excited to post this! I'm new to having a writing blog, but would love to start chatting!

xoxo, shewroteaworld

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months

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I put a spell on you

request: I’m here to feed your Xaden delusions, but lead singer/guitarist Xaden performing at some underground club, and they’re covering “You put a spell on me” (the Austin Giorgio version), and he locked eyes with you and is singing to you and only you during that moment

a/n: I honestly will be sending this person to jail time because this behavior is unacceptable. Enjoy... I guess...*shakes head*

warnings: want to take a lucky guess? Sexual themes. I don't write smut on demand but look what you did... Rap it before you tap it kids. Kind of modern day plot line.... eh...

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You were touching up your make-up in a tiny back room. Black silk dress on. High heels. Dark red lip. The hair all curly and loose. The rest of your band was an hour late, so you had to spend most of the night singing up on the stage to music playing from your phone. Were you pissed that this happened on a Friday, the day the pay was always the best? Yes. But you also did not control the weather, and a snowstorm is a snowstorm. "They want you back in five", a voice calls from behind your door. "Coming", you shouted back, double-checking your appearance and grabbing your water bottle.

You were in the middle of a third song when your eyes landed on a guy. And dear Lord, not just any guy. You had covered up the quiver in your voice, but your eyes stayed glued to him. The slightly unbuttoned shirt, the rolled-up sleeves, and the tattoos running all across his arms. If you weren't standing up, you would be clenching your thighs together right about now. You tried to pull your gaze off him, but no matter what, your eyes returned to him every time. His piercing gaze on you.

You were taking a tiny water break when you heard someone tapping the side of the stage you were standing on. Your head whipped to the side. A gasp escaped your lips. The same guy was standing there, a guitar in his hands. "Xaden", he called out, getting up on the stage. "Y/N", you frowned slightly. The drunken man had a big love for coming up on stage to bark into the microphone, hence why no one besides the bad was allowed up there. "I also play, just at a different bar. I play the guitar and sing," he was talking, but you just stood there dumb-struck. The guy... Xaden was also bloody tall, his muscly flame towering over you. "If you don't want...", he started. "No, I mean yes, I mean no", you muttered, making him chuckle slightly. "I need someone to play with; the phone shit is killing me tonight", you shook your head, trying to get your composure back.

"You did well, though. Your voice is very pretty", Xaden said casually as he plugged in his guitar. "Well, we'll see if you live up to the expectations", you muttered back. A smile painted Xaden's lips. He played a couple of chords, turning to you so you would be able to tell him if the tone was comfortable for your voice. You played with that for a couple of minutes before you gave him a thumbs-up. But when you turned back towards the crowd, a realization hit you: you didn't ask Xaden what exactly you were going to sing. You turned your back to him right as the first notes of the song echoed. This motherfucker...

"You put a spell on me", his velvety voice fills your ears, "I'm losing my mind". His eyes were all over you as he sang. Your grip on the microphone tightened as you watched him. "You better stop these things; it's a matter of time". But two can play this game. You threw your head back, letting your hair fall back from your shoulders, exposing the glistening skin of your bare skin, as you let your body sway with the sound of Xaden's guitar. "Before I hunt you down", he continues, "Grab your chin and kiss your lips", his tone seems huskier, and as you pull your gaze back to him, you find his stare still glued to you. Pupils big. "You bring me back; I lay you down and grab your hips". A smirk plays on your lips as you join him on the next line, "And we lose all control", you've never thought your voice would mix with a stranger so well. It's almost hypnotic. So fucking sultry. Xaden's voice hitches slightly, and you yank the control away from him. "And before you know", you point your finger straight at him as you continue, "I've put a spell on you", your hips dip slightly as you let your body get swallowed by the music, "Now you are mine". You've never been more thankful for the bright light that shined right at you as you let your silky voice take over the room. "I've got a hold on you, at least for the night". Your hands move up and down the microphone stand, and you can swear Xaden lets out a light growl. "You know I can't help myself when you ask tenderly". You turn your attention back to him. The grip the guy has on his guitar is close to a breaking point. You can't help wondering if you were to pick up the guitar would yoy find him... but you don't let the thought linger, allowing yourself a moment to bite your lips before you sing the next cues directly, looking at the guy set not more than a meter away from you. "If I'd dimmed the light as your hand brushes me and the floor swallowed my clothes", you said, brushing your hand over the silk fabric, lifting it just a bit to reveal more of your thigh, "And my silhouette puts on a show because I put a spell on you", you muse. Xaden beats you to the next line, "I'm losing my mind; you better stop these games; it's a matter of time". And in the way he sings these lines, you start to feel as if they are more of a promise after all.

It almost feels like a fever dream for the rest of the song. You let the music fully take over as you two shared the stage. The moment the last chords ring, you can't help but let out a shaky breath. The crowd erupts in cheers, and you smile back, bowing slightly. From the corner of your eye, you see Xaden doing the same. You don't turn to him as you move to get off the stage. Your heels click against the floor as you briskly walk toward the back of the bar. And you know. Call it an instinct. He's following you.

You barely make it down the corner when you find two hands on opposite sides of you, caging your body, your face against the wall. But you can't help the giggle that escapes you as you feel him pressing against you, the suspicion you had mid-performance very obviously pressing right against you. "Desperate much?", you purr, turning your head back towards him, your shoulder blades flexing, making the man behind you growl, "You and the little show you put on". You manage to turn around to face him. You two are inches away from each other. "You picked the song, sweetheart", your fingers move to play with the button of his shirt, brushing against his chest.

"I don't lose control", Xaden growls, making you giggle slightly, "I think you're about to". His palm quickly reaches to hold onto your face as he tilts your head up so your eyes are back on him, "These red fucking lips and the words that are leaving them." You bit the corner of your lip, letting your fingers brush down his chest until you're met with his belt, and you do one thing any respectable girl would do: you pull him closer.

You've never been one for careless hookups. You left that to your band. You were a hopeless romantic at heart all along, but this man, with his dark eyes, looked down at you. He's making you question things about yourself. And question them hard. "You're playing a game, sweetheart", Xaden leaned closer, and the warmth of his breath tickled your cheek. "Am I? I didn't notice", you said, holding onto this rush of confidence.

Xaden lets out a breathy chuckle as his hands fall to grab onto your hips before you feel him slowly bunching up the fabric of your dress upwards. Some sense of rationality comes flooding into your brain. What if someone walked by? But Xaden quickly wraps his hand around your throat once again, yanking your attention back to him. "If I touched you now, would you be wet?", a gasp escapes your lips at the bluntness of his words. Yet you are painfully aware of the answer.

"Look yourself", your voice is barely a whisper. Xaden's lips curve upward. "You're giving me your consent to touch you, baby?", he leans in once again. You tilt your head up in hopes of finally meeting his lips, but the grip he has on you stops you. "I asked you a question", he growls. You nod your head eagerly, but Xaden shakes his head, "Words. I need words". Fuck, this guy is trying to be a gentleman in a moment like this where he more than has you under his control.

"Yes, please", you whimper at the feeling of Xaden's fingers brushing against your inner thigh. "Please, what?", he hums, his lips finally brushing against your shoulder. "Please, touch me", a shiver runs down your body as Xaden bites the strap of your dress, dragging it off your shoulder. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. His fingers brush over your belly tenderly, his hand fully beneath your dress now. They dip to your hip; he's no doubt searching for the fabric of your underwear, but you know all he would be met with is bare skin.

As if reading your mind, Xaden lets out yet another growl, "Don't tell me that you have no underwear on". His head falls on your shoulders as if he's taking a moment to compose himself, but two can play this game. You reach for the hand that is resting on your bare skin before guiding it between your thighs, muttering a quick "Upsie." And that is the final undoing that man in front of you needed.

Xaden's lips finally crash into yours. Hungry and desperate. You try to meet him halfway, but the dominance is all his as he explores your mouth. You can't help but let out a moan as his fingers started to lazily rub circles over your clit. "You've been dripping all night long like this?", he rasped out, pulling away ever so slightly. "Only when you came to join me", you gasped, feeling one of his fingers slip within your heat like it was nothing. Your back arches against the wall, your hips grinding to meet his touch. "You fucking, minx", Xaden says, losing another shaky breath, "Where's your room?". Your brain is hazy from him, but you manage to point your finger to the door at the very end of the hallway. Xaden wastes no time as he picks you up. You whimper at the loss of his touch but don't protest much, knowing that you wouldn't be able to explore each other in the middle of a hallway anyway.

Xaden kicks the door shut behind him as he enters the small room. The table meets his frustration first as his hand cleans the vanity off, sending bottles and brushes tumbling down. "Hey", you yelp, looking down at the mess, but all that fades away the moment Xaden's lips are on your chest. Nipping at your skin, no doubt leaving bruises for you to look at tomorrow. Your hands reach for his messy, dark curls as you tug gently, pressing his face further into your skin. He doesn't ask for permission the second time around. He just yanks at the delicate straps, making the fabric slide off your chest.

"No fucking bra too", he hisses, his fingers reaching to twirl your hard nipples between his fingers, sending heat pooling into your core, "You're the devil itself". The noise that escapes your lips as he wraps his mouth over your breast, squeezing the flesh, is far from holy. "Fuck, Xaden", you breathe, arching even more into his chest. "So responsive, I like it", he chuckles against your skin, making you huff, "Fuck you, asshole". He lets himself fully laugh this time as he wraps his hand over your neck once more, "You will, sweetheart; you sure as hell will".

And there's something so primal in his voice. Heat rushes all over your body. You spread your legs even more for him without him having to ask; your body is shamefully desperate. Xaden lets his hands move all over your body. Exploring every curve. Every dip. Sending shivers down your spine. Your lips are back on his, and god, you could spend a lifetime kissing this man. You pull at this shirt, breaking a couple of buttons in the process. That's enough for him to get the message, and his shirt is soon thrown somewhere on the floor.

"Condom?", Xaden asks, fumbling with his belt. You shake your head. "Birth control", you muse. "I'm clean", you add quickly. Xaden growls once more. "How do you expect me not to bust?", he asks, eyes locked on you as he strokes himself through his boxers a couple of times. "It seems like your problem", you breathe, quickly licking your lips as he steps back closer to you.

You let your hand brush over his toned muscles this time; you brush his hands away from his body, and they find shelter on your thighs almost immediately. You reach for the waistband of his underwear but stop yourself. Suddenly wanting to have his permission. Your eyes dart up, only to be met with a nod. That's all it takes for you to yank the material off, and all the holy hell, you could tell that he was above average from the boner that's been rubbing against you all this time, but this long and hard length with pre-cum glistening at the very tip.

"You have something to say?", Xaden teases, biting at your shoulder once more. While you gape at him like a fish out of the water. "I... that... ah...", your muttering is cut off by Xaden, who brushes his fingers over your clit, circling it a couple of times before he dips a finger inside you, moving it at a painfully slow speed. "I heard that before", he mumbles against your lips, "It will fit too, don't you worry", he dips yet another finger into your vagina, and you can feel your arousal dripping onto the table beneath you as that same funny feeling curls up at the pit of your stomach.

You reach for his length, stroking it a couple of times. Xaden pulls his fingers out of yours, moving that hand to join yours. Your juices are now coating his dick, and you can't help but whimper at the sight of it. Xaden rubs his tip at your entrance a couple of times. Both of your eyes are now locked on the way both of your bodies are desperate for a release. "Go gently with me; you're bigger than I've ever had", you can't help but let the sudden wave of worry wash over you. Xaden's eyes dart up to yours, his hand moving to rub your thigh. "I'll look after you", he mutters as he slowly slides between your walls. You both share a breathless cry. Curses fill the space. You know that he's not in all the way, and the burn is like nothing you've felt before, but so is the pleasure that makes your toes curl.

Xaden withdraws almost all the way before moving back into your slick pussy, this time way deeper and way quicker. You let out a cry, your hands darting to grab onto his forearms. "Too much", you whimpered, "It's too much", but Xaden only bucks his hips forward, fingers reaching between the two of you so he could rub your clit in lazy circles. "You will take it", he says. Your eyes fall to the back of your head as he bottoms out with another thrust, growling into your ear. You shakily wrap your legs around his torso, bringing him even closer to you.

Your eyes mist for a second, and you feel Xaden leaving kisses all over your face before his head dips, and his mouth is once again wrapped around your nipple as he twirls it between his lips. "Fuck, please", you cry out right as Xaden picks up his speed, his hips moving in a harsh rhythm over and over. Hitting parts of your body that have never been touched before. Another cry slips past your lips, and your nails dig into his back. "You're so fucking pretty", Xaden murmurs, "So fucking tight".

Another moan escapes you, but this time Xaden is right there to swallow your cries with a kiss. A desperate. Messy one. The room is filled with your wetness. Whimper's bounced off the walls; never had you before been so thankful for the loud music coming from the bar. Drowning out your shared groans. Your tits are bouncing from the fair share of speed Xaden is thrusting into you. You feel on fire. All you can think of is him. "Come on, cry out my name for me, baby", he says, his hands moving to hold onto your hips so he could angle his movements even more. "Xaden", you muse, feeling the tingling sensation rippling through you. "Louder", he growls, his hand coming to choke you once more. You fluster your eyes, meeting his gaze. "Harder, Xaden,", you moan at the top of your lungs. Xaden's nostrils flare, and his hand slides to rub your clit once more, way harder now, as his movement picks up. His eyes grow dark as he growls. You hold onto him as your body nearly slides off the rocking table. "I'm going", you cry out, your head falling back. "Come, baby, take what's yours", he grunts, hitting the golden spot deep within you. Sending you into pleasure like no other, as you both fall over the edge at the same time. You feel him jerking a couple of times, and his cum spurting deep within you. Coating your walls. Sending you into yet another blissful blindness as you clench around him. Xaden's breathing is labored as he once again rests against your shoulder. Your hands lazily move up and down his back, drawing circles as you too try to make your heartbeat less frantic.

"That was...", he mutters, pulling up. You chuckle slightly, "Out of this world", you finish his sentence right before his lips are back on yours. It's a lot slower. Less needy. More sensual. You whimper slightly as you feel Xaden's length twitch one more time, still deep inside you. "Is it bad that I don't want to pull out?", Xaden asks, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. But he does. Slowly. So slowly that you can't help but cry at the sensation. The loss of him is way too evident. Making you feel so empty. He curses at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you, coating your tights and the table. He reached for his shirt, crumpled on the floor before he carefully wiped away the mess you two made. You bite your lip as you watch him. So careful. So gentle.

"Your lipstick is smudged", he states, pulling his underwear back on while you're still there, all sprawled out for him. High on whatever the fuck had just happened. "I wonder why", you mutter, trying to pull yourself off the table only to be met with wobbly legs that betray you the moment your heels hit the floor. But Xaden is there in a heartbeat. His arm wrapped around your waist as he steadies you. The asshole has the nerve to laugh at your disheveled state, and you hit his chest.

"You're okay?", he asks regardless. "Soar, and my brain lost concentration with the internet, I think", you muttered, making the male chuckle once more. He carefully pulled the straps of your dress back over your shoulders, hiding some of the red skin on your chest that was already bruising. "Good thing that I'm driving you back home then", he mutters, kissing the side of your head softly before pushing a finger under your chin and bringing your face up so he could kiss your lips a couple of times. You let out a surprised yelp as Xaden dips, lifting you off the floor and into his arms. Hands resting on your bum as you wrap your arms and legs around him, "Come on, baby, the night is still young".

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x you #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson smut #haden fourt wing imagine #xaden fourth wing x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #iron flame x reader

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oneforthemunny · 1 year

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some sunny day |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: eddie takes you to meet his mom. very very angst.

The first time Eddie mentioned his mother, it was just a casual comment. Innocent enough, made in passing about a small plate, decorative from the sixties that you saw at a thrift store.

“My mom used to have that,” Eddie muttered, hand tracing down the small dish. It was a neutral comment, but it was his expression, the way his eyes dropped and lips tightened. “She used to put her wedding band on it when she’d do the dishes.” His gaze was far off and distant, like he wasn’t really with you, he was back in a memory.

“It’s really pretty.” You offered with a small smile, looking at the floral details and gold, chipped trim. "She has good taste."

Eddie just nodded, putting it back on the shelf, shoving his hands in his pockets and waking away. You heart dropped. Eddie was never quiet like he was after that, distant and removed, giving small, forced grins and long stares. That was your first clue, that whatever happened between he and his mother, it wasn’t good.

Mother’s Day came around close to the end of school, but you still liked to do a little activity with the kids in your class. Thumbprint bouquets on ink pads and hand drawn stems, their slanted writing reading a little note. You displayed them on your bulletin board before they took them home for the weekend, proud and smiling at their hard work and how colorful it looked.

Eddie had stopped by, like he always did, smiling sweetly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips since it was after hours. His eyes lingered on your bulletin board, he always enjoyed seeing what creative thing you made of it. Some teachers simply added test scores, plain and boring, a little dehumanizing for the kids like him who never scored high- never had help with his spelling words. Not you, you made sure everyone’s was displayed, proud and how it was.

His face fell his time, smile dropping around the edges when he looked at it. “Isn’t it cute?” You gushed, arms around his waist, swaying back and forth. “They were so excited to use the ink pads. It was a mess, but worth it. They loved it.”

Eddie swallowed hard, blinking at the countless scribbling of words. “Yeah...it’s cute.” He forced out, choked words that seemed to strangle him.

You pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion when you looked at him. “You ok?” You asked.

Eddie looked down at you, that same distant look back in his eyes. You frowned softly. “What’s wrong?” You asked quietly.

Eddie shook his head. “Nothin’, baby.” He sighed softly, giving you a tiny smile, but still refused to look at the board again. “I think it’s sweet.” He hesitated, teeth gritting like he wanted to say more.

You lifted your brow. “Ed, what? C’mon,” you pushed gently, hand rubbing his back sweetly. “You won’t hurt my feelings, I promise. Did I misspell something again?” You grinned, looking back over at the bulletin board, remembering the time you’d spelled out ‘Valentime’ and proudly shown him. Eddie had laughed, warm and bubbly when he pointed it out to you. You’d blushed but thanked him, saving you from the disruption of your class the next day. Fourth graders thought nothing was funnier than their teacher making a mistake.

Eddie’s lips still pursed, sighing gently. “No, you spelled everything right. It’s…it’s just…” He shook his head. “I mean, this is really sweet, but what about the kids who don’t have moms?”

Your brows furrowed softly. “What?”

Eddie shrugged, closed off and shut down, wiggling out of your grasp gently. His jaw was tight and cheeks red, nearly embarrassed. “I’m just saying, like, are you sure everyone has a mom?” He said, refusing to meet your stare, reaching in to grab the full trash out and tie it off. “Some kids don’t have moms, and shit like this… Sorry, it’s not shit, I-I just mean, these things are nice, b-but not…” He exhaled slow, shaky.

Your heart shattered, breath catching in your throat. You felt dizzy, chest heavy. Eddie shrugged, hoping you didn’t see him swipe at his running nose, hidden under a waterfall of curls. “‘M just sayin’, sometimes this can just be… hurtful. Mother’s Day isn’t always fun for everyone.”

You didn’t push or dig. You knew enough to know that whatever it was- whatever Eddie had gone through with his mother was painful. He was still hurting.

You met Wayne on your six month dating mark. Eddie had been so nervous, palms clammy and leg bouncing in pure nerves. He’d worried himself nearly sick when you went over to the trailer. Worried you snarl or judge him or worse.

You grinned when you met the older man, Eddie’s uncle who raised him. Wayne hugged you tight when you introduced yourself, holding the screen door open to let you in. He hit Eddie on the side of his head when he passed by.

“Don’t you know you open doors for ladies, boy?” Wayne gruffed when Eddie passed by. “Your Mama would be rollin’ in her grave right now if she saw that girl open her own door.”

Your heart skipped, dropping at the comment. You weren’t sure you were supposed to hear it, so you pretended you didn’t-for Eddie’s sake. Scanning the pictures on the walls instead, most of Eddie, the same curly haired boy throughout the year. Wayne had his high school diploma displayed proudly, all three senior year photos next to them. You cooed at them, finger tracing over the school photos, a snaggletoothed, curly headed boy with bright, brown eyes in a slightly worn t-shirt. It made your heart ache, turning and squeezing with that uncomfortable crushing pressure.

Eddie showed you his old room, watching you smirk when you held up a dirty magazine, wedged under the old mattress. You lifted a brow playfully while Eddie blushed hard, a deep red that had you giggling.

“Those are from high school, I swear.” Eddie stammered, holding his hands up.

You lifted a brow, eyes skimming the cover. “Hottest Centerfolds of 1989?” You challenged.

Eddie’s blush deepened, running a hand down his face. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

Wayne had brought you to the common area of the park, the July air hot with a slight breeze. He’d fired up the grill anyways, making Eddie flip the hotdogs while the two of you chatted on the wooden picnic table behind him.

He wiped his brow, bangs matted and sweaty against his forehead. You stood, black hair tie on your wrist, pulling it off and handing it to Eddie. "Here, honey," You cooed sweetly, passing him the band. Eddie blushed, thanking you quietly when he pulled his hair back in a low bun, sweat trickling down his neck.

"Good call," Wayne grinned, winking playfully at you. "No one wants all that hair in their hot dogs anyways."

You giggled, looking over at Eddie with a sweet, playful smile. Eddie scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "At least I still have hair, old man." He jested.

Wayne barked out a laugh. "You better be glad you got your Mama's hair, otherwise you'd be bald like me."

Your heart thumped hard in your chest, palms sweating and not just because of the heat. You saw how Eddie's shoulder's tensed at the mention. Wayne chattered on while Eddie grilled, asking you about your own home life- where you were from, what your folks did, all nice and polite chatter.

You'd passed a photo hanging on the wall before you'd left. A woman with familiar unruly curls, clipped back but blowing in the wind. She sat on a hill, daffodils and tulip in flower beds around her, a small blanket on the ground. She held a baby with the same tuft of curls, chubby cheeks with dimples, and round, brown doe eyes. You knew it was Eddie immediately, smiling at the photo. He was adorable, so similar in some of his features. Your eyes lingered on the photo a bit too long, Wayne catching you.

He stood by you, exhaling slowly. "He looks like her, don't he?" Wayne smiled, sad. "I always told Viola that boy was her twin. Told Ed that too, but..." Wayne didn't finish his sentence, letting it linger in the air between the two of you.

You bit your lip, stopping yourself from asking what you wanted to, the question that rattled around your brain, shaking you from the inside out: what happened to her? No, it wasn't for you to ask. You wouldn't overstep like that. You'd respect Eddie and his decision to tell you when he was ready.

That day didn't come until much later. A cold, rainy day in March, when the winds were whipping and unforgiving, the sky cloudy and gloomy, the perfect bad day. You'd noticed Eddie didn't stop by your classroom that morning, no apple or sweet note. You assumed he'd slept in, the drizzle of the rain always made him so sleepy, snoring heavy and hard. By lunch time, Eddie still wasn't there, didn't join you and Steve in the break room, and you noticed the janitor's closet was still locked.

You climbed the steps to his apartment, a small one bedroom one bath next to the park, knocking on the chipped paint of the green door softly. No one answered. You furrowed your brows, craning your neck towards the parking lot. You could see the van in it's usual spot, the small orange tinted glow from his lamp inside.

You fished your key out of your bag, turning it in the lock softly before letting yourself in. Your stomach turned, a deep and sinking feeling settled in the pit of your tummy. "Ed?" You called softly, shutting the door behind you. "Eddie, it's me. Are you sick, baby?"

No response.

Your shoulders tensed, swallowing the growing lump in your throat, eyes scanning the room. "I tried to call, but..." A muffled yelp, nearly in pain, low and groaning from down the hall startled you.

You padded down the hall, hearing another small clamber from behind the closed door. You knocked gently again. "Eddie, are you alright?"

"Go away." Eddie barked, strained and shaky voice seeping through the door.

You flinched in shock softly, his voice so hard and cold, but mostly hurt. It worried you. "Eddie, please can I come in?" You asked softly, pressing your ear to the door. "If you're sick, I can go get you some medicine, baby. Or I can take you to the doctor if you-"

"No, just-just go!" Eddie yelled, a choked sob following, strangled and bitter.

Your eyes widened, hand turning the knob reactively before you could even comprehend what you were doing. Your breath hitched, heart stopping when you looked in the room. Eddie was lying on the bed, crumpled into the mess of bed sheets. His pillow was a deep blue, tear stained and wet. He clutched a photo in his hands, protective and angry, white knuckled and trembling. His eyes were red as was his nose, blood shot and raw from the tears running down his cheeks.

"I said get out!" Eddie sobbed, turning away from you entirely when you came in. His shoulders shook heavy, rattling with the aftershocks of sobs. "Get out! Go!"

"Eddie," You breathed cautiously, voice even and calm. You held your hand out, approaching him slowly, like a frightened animal, despite the rapid fluttering in your chest.

"No, leave!" Eddie cried, breath hitching and shuddering in his chest. He heaved deep and fast, furiously wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I don't-don't want you to see me-e."

"Eddie, are you ok?" You asked calmly, hand hesitating to touch him. "Do you need me to call someone or-or get you-"

"No," Eddie sobbed, face crumbling. "You can't get me who I want, who I need." He sucked in a breath, pitiful and trembling at the admission. His voice was hoarse with tears.

"Yes, I can, baby. I can. Just tell me who you want, and I'll call them, ok? I'll-"

"You can't call her." Eddie's brown eyes, red rimmed. His shoulder's dropped, lip quivering, snot streaming down his nose. "You can't call her, because she's fuckin' dead. She's dead."

Your heart shattered, hands reaching out to stroke his shoulders, unsure and desperate to comfort him. Your eyes flickered down to the photo, the familiar curly hair- Viola.

Your breath caught, eyes meeting Eddie's, melting sympathetically. "Oh, Eddie," You whispered, stroking his cheek gently. You wished you could say more, do more, knowing nothing could soothe this aching he felt, but wishing you had the right words to help. Instead, your tongue felt large and swollen, choking your words and leaving your breathless and speechless.

Eddie's face crumbled, eyes squeezing and lips pressing together to try and keep the sob from escaping. You pulled him close, hugging him tight to you while he cried. Your hand raking through his hair, soothing and soft coos while he sobbed, heart-wrenching and pitiful.

Your blouse was damp, pressed against your skin when Eddie's breath finally steadied, that same distant glaze over his red-rimmed eyes. You kept him pressed close to you, tight to your chest, hand stroking his curls, peppering kisses to the crown of his head. You hated that you didn't know what to say, how to comfort him to make it better. There was nothing to make this better. What did you say to a grieving son who only wanted his mother?

Eddie told you then about her.

About how she always cared for him, about how she taught him to play guitar, how she taught him to hide when his dad came home angry and drunk. His eyes squeezed shut when he mentioned him, fists balling tight in his hands. You could feel his heart racing, picking back up and breathing ragged.

He told you about how she died, seventeen years ago that day. You tried to swallow back the burning ache in your chest, breathing deep to keep your own tears in. It wasn't about you, you couldn't cry, but how could you not? With the things Eddie was telling you. Horrifying, traumatizing things that he went through as a child; that he still faced today.

You stayed with him through the night, not because he asked but because you knew he needed it. He had never been so thankful for you. How gentle you were with him, not judging and reassuring when he got embarrassed by his emotions. He fell asleep that night practically on top of you, head buried in your torso, long limbs crowded all around you. You didn't mind.

The next morning, Eddie woke up frantic, mumbled apologies and racing thoughts that you quieted and soothed. You could tell her was embarrassed. He never needed to be with you.

Eddie rocked on his heels, fidgeting for a moment like he did when he was anxious. "I-I think I'd like to go see her today." Eddie mumbled, refusing to look up at you.

You nodded slowly. "I think that's a great idea, Ed." You smiled softly towards him, resting your own hand on top of his.

Eddie grabbed your hand tightly, fingers intertwining through yours. "Do you think... Do you think you could maybe come with me?" He asked, eyes rounding hopefully when he looked up at you. You melted, heart swelling so tight you thought you might burst. You wanted to tell him you'd walk through the firing line for him if he asked.

"I-It's ok if you can't. Fuck, that's a lot to ask, 'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have asked that, that's-shit, I can go by myself-" Eddie rumbled, eyes pinching closed, pulling his hand out of your grasp quickly.

"Eddie," You grabbed his hand softly again, squeezing it lightly. "I'll go with you. If you want me to go, I'll go with you. If you want me to drive you and sit in the car, I can do that to. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do. Don't apologize for asking."

Eddie hesitated, eyes frantically scanning your features. He'd grown used to putting other people first, making sure they were happy and content before he was. That they were genuine.

"Are you sure?" He asked weakly, lips pulling tight in a hopeful grimace. You wanted to squeeze him tight to you, hold him until he knew it would be alright; until it was all better.

Instead, you smiled, pressing a light kiss to his dimpled cheek. You pushed a curly tendril behind his ear. "I promise. I would love to meet your mother." You smiled, wide and warm, it made his heart lurch in his chest. His hand squeezed yours, eyes watering all over again.

You stopped by the florist before you went to the cemetery. Eddie hadn't asked you to, but you wanted to. "I can't show up empty handed to meet your mom." You smiled softly towards him.

Eddie took a long, deep, cleansing breath at that, following you in to the shop. You looked around, the aroma of the shop was heavenly, floral and powdery. Eddie relaxed softly.

"What kind of flowers did she like?" You asked gently, looking at the different ones in vases of water, behind cooling glasses to keep them fresh.

"Not roses," Eddie muttered, shaking his head at the various shades of roses they had in water. "Hated them."

You smiled softly. "Ok, no roses." You nodded, moving down the case.

"She liked those," Eddie pointed to the big, pink flowers that sat in a vase; peonies. "She used to grow them. Would cut them and put them on the dinner table to cover the scratch when people came over."

You squeezed his hand lightly, requesting two bouquets from the florist. You paid them before Eddie could, ignoring his protests when you took them to the car, laying them delicately in the back seat so they wouldn't get smushed. Eddie didn't tell you, but it meant the world. Seeing how careful you were, how caring you were to him. Watching your hands shake, a little jittery- nervous to meet his mother. Like she was still physically there, and it wasn't just a tomb.

"Do you want me to stay in the car?" You asked, parked on the curb in the empty cemetery.

Eddie shook his head softly, eyes trained on the rows ahead of him. "I-I think I'd like you to come with me." He said, looking over at you carefully. "I want you to meet her."

You smiled, bright back at him. His heart fluttered.

He lead you through the rows of graves, stopping to point out his grandparents, great-grandparents, before he found hers. The headstone was small, a little worn with weather. Viola Luella Jones-Munson - Beloved Daughter, Sister, Wife, and Mother.

Eddie's legs shook when he kneeled down, gripping the bouquet so tight he was sure the stems would break. "Hi, Mom," He whispered, voice cracking in his throat. "I-I'm sorry I haven't been by in a while..."

You pressed your lips together, fighting back a cry of your own. Watching Eddie push the leaves off the headstone, fingers lingering to trace over the etched letters of her name quietly.

"I brought someone to meet you." Eddie whispered, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Hi, Mrs. Munson," You smiled softly. "It's nice to finally meet you." You knelt down next to Eddie, on the soft grass.

"W-We've been dating for a while, Mom. I wanted her to meet you." Eddie breathed, his hand reaching out for yours, squeezing it tightly.

You ran your thumb over his hand, soothing. "Your son is great." You smiled, affectionately looking over at Eddie. "The best. You did an amazing job with him. You should be very proud." Eddie felt his chest swell, throat burning with the threat of tears again.

"He's kind, and funny, and creative, and so, so good to me. A gentleman." You continued, leaning your head softly against his shoulder.

The breeze blew through the trees, wind chimes on the graves tingling to life, while the two of you kneeled in silence.

"Do you think I could have a moment?" Eddie asked after a while, head leaning on top of yours, hand still intertwined. "Just a little bit alone?"

You looked up at him, pressing your lips to his softly, just barely brushing his. He relaxed into your touch, letting you kiss him sweet and gentle. "Take as much time as you need, Eddie. I'll go wait by the car."

You placed the bouquet in front of the headstone, swiping the top off carefully of any fallen blooms from the trees. "It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Munson." You whispered, before standing up. You squeezed Eddie's shoulder gently, padding back through the grass towards the car.

Eddie was still for a while. Listening, watching, distant and wrapped up in his own memories. He sighed softly, sitting down on the ground fully.

"She's great, isn't she?" Eddie whispered, smiling softly at the headstone. "I told you when I met the right one I'd bring them to meet you, and-and..." Eddie looked over his shoulder, back towards your car. "She's the one."

Eddie took a deep breath. "She met Wayne a while ago, back in July. He loves her. Told me I better take care of her." Eddie snorted softly. "I do, by the way. Well, I try to as much as I can... She takes care of me, too. Real good, Mom."

Eddie could feel the tears coming, pricking and threatening to spill out the corners of his eyes. "I-I wish you could meet her, Mom." Eddie's lip wobbled, voice cracking at the admission. "God, you'd love her. You two would get along so well, and-and-" Eddie sobbed, broken and spilling out of his chest.

"I miss you." Eddie whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.

He felt like the same eleven year old boy he was years before, kneeling in the freshly laid dirt by her grave, begging and pleading for anyone to bring her back. Screaming and furious that she was taken instead of his dad, instead of him.

"I wish you were here, Mom." Eddie sniffed hard, choking on his own tears. "I really miss you."

Eddie stayed there for a while. His brain screamed at him to get up, but he couldn't. He just wanted a little more time. He knew you wouldn't mind.

He placed a kiss to the headstone, resting his forehead against it until he calmed, chest still heavy and aching, but breathing steady. Eddie placed the peonies next to yours, pretty and bright against the headstone. He knew she'd love them.

When he said goodbye to her, a small, broken whisper into the headstone, he liked to think wherever she was that she heard him. That she sent down the small breeze that wrapped around him, through his hair and through the trees as a sign that she was still with him.

Eddie hugged you for a long time before you got back in the car, tight and desperate, like you might disappear if he didn't. You ran your hand soothingly down his back, letting him bury his nose in your hair, your scent grounding him and keeping his threatening tears at bay.

The ride home was silent, comfortable. Eddie looked out the window, exhausted and drained after the day. His hand held yours over the center console, your thumb still rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles. He didn't tell you that his mom used to do that. He didn't tell you that was the reason the act was so soothing to him, not then anyways. He didn't tell you that you reminded him of her in the best ways. He didn't tell you that he'd never brought anyone, anyone to see her grave. He didn't tell you how much it meant to him that you spoke to her, that you were kind and sweet and genuine to her. He figured you knew.

What he did tell you was how much he loved you. How much he loved you and loved you and loved you and loved you.

And how much his mom would've loved you too. How much she did love you, wherever she was.

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somewherebetweendisorder · 6 months

Text

How To Ruin a Friendship

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: language, slight angst?, fluff

~~~

"Ow."

Eddie's fingers falter over the strings on his guitar as you press on the yellowing bruise exposed by the hole in his jeans, enjoying the way his skin squishes beneath your finger.

Sorry," you giggle and thumb the fading contusion once more, memorizing the way his skin dips down until you can feel the press of bone below. It shouldn't be such an alluring sensation, but to your weed-addled mind, it's consuming. Eddie picks the song back up eyes drifting closed in response to the blunt you two shared half an hour ago. He had more than his fair share, leaving you pleasantly calm but not far gone by any means.

Your eyes settle on Eddie's hands as he plays, following the strong plains and ridges of veins that climb his forearms and taper off at the crook of his elbow. You look away, uncomfortable with the growing fascination resting low in your gut. It had been building for months -hell, years really- every time it threatened to boil over, you disappeared for a day or two, feigning illness or claiming you had a lot going on before rejoining Eddie as the easygoing best friend he expected.

"I wanna play," you murmur, breaking whatever spell the music held over the room.

Eddie's eyes popped open, blurry and unfocused as he struggled to take in your form at the end of his bed. He pulled the guitar strap over his head, passing you his sweetheart with the same caution a new parent might hand off their infant with. You slip the band of fabric over your head, and Eddie reaches out to adjust the strap, tightening it minutely. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed, it's impossible to ignore really, when his warm fingers brush your neck, the metal of his rings smooth against your skin.

Your fingers are clumsy on the strings, strumming a discordant melody, your face scrunching up in distaste and concentration. Eddie reclines back against his headboard, trusting you with his baby, and content to watch the show.

You struggle for a few minutes more, playing a fragile set of chords from a Metallica song Eddie tried teaching you before accepting defeat and shrugging off the guitar. He's so pretty when he plays, dark hair a curtain around his face, hypnotized by the song humming through his body. You prefer to watch him play.

The hours tick by, and you crawl up the bed to lay next to Eddie, no longer able to control the yawns erupting out of you. He smiles as you steal the blankets, wrapping yourself up tight and looking up at him. "Sleep Eds, it's late."

"Ah, whatever, the night is still young," he argues but moves to place Baby in her designated spot, turning off the light as he goes.

He hovers by the door, letting his eyes adjust, and you can feel his gaze on you. "You need anything, Y/N?"

The fact that he asked touches you, warmth curling around your belly, spreading outward. "No thanks," you whisper after a moment. He slides next to you under the covers, the bare skin of his arm brushing yours as he gets comfortable.

Most nights, you find yourself in Eddie's bed, sleeping over yet again, surrounded by the boy, the man next to you. Tonight isn't really different, but somehow it feels like more. Eddie shifts closer, whispering goodnight. Before you can say the words back, his lips are seeking, brushing your skin, turning it feverish.

And that kiss that Eddie plants on your forehead catches you off guard. How often have you both toed the line between friendship and harmless flirtations bordering on something more? You were never fully convinced that Eddie reciprocated your messy feelings, and you were terrified to muck anything up between the two of you. You can think of only one occasion in your long friendship when his lips had graced your skin, and you were half out of your mind with pyrexia. You weren't even sure if he actually had kissed you then, or if it was just wishful thinking. But he had definitely just kissed you now, and the familiarity with which those plump lips ghost across your skin now belies a hint that it's happened more than once. Stolen kisses when you were asleep, a fluttering press against your cheek before he surrendered to sleep or left in the early, watery light.

Now though, no one is leaving, and no one is quite sleeping so, you whisper a breathy goodnight before rolling over and trying to sleep.

Sleep must find you at some point because you're waking up now, blinking slowly against the pale light streaming through his window, growing more aware of the heavy arm around your waist and the face in the crook of your neck.

It's not new. Eddie is a cuddler in every sense of the word; you wake tangled together most mornings, but you're hyperaware of every juncture where his body touches yours. It's all too much, and before you know what you're doing, you're scooting across his small mattress to create as much space as possible between the two of you.

He groans through his sleepy haze, squinting at your retreating form. "Where ya goin', babe?" The pet name elicits a deep flush that crawls up your neck, peeking out of the low neckline of your sleep shirt and staining your cheeks.

"Bathroom," you squeak, refusing to turn around and see his face, softened by sleep, looking younger and boyish, hair mussed from his pillow.

With hurried footsteps, you rush from the room, stumbling over the ratty carpet that's bathed in a soft tangerine glow from the open windows. Once the bathroom door is closed behind you, the lock turned home, you sag against the wall, closing your eyes against the harsh artificial light.

This isn't going to work. Running away every time Eddie does any typical Eddie thing. Either you put up with things as they are, or muster up the nerve to tell him how you feel.

Rather than going back to Eddie's room, you make your way to the kitchen, intent on making breakfast for yourselves and the Munson boys. Reaching for the coffee filters you fumble with the thin paper, frustration mounting when you can't get the stupid things to separate.

"Jesus Christ, please." It's one of those cruel moments when everything begins to landslide at once. How are you supposed to handle these feelings when Eddie is so hard to read? And why won't the goddamn filters just separate. Fingers still fumbling over the thin edges of the paper you don't hear Uncle Wayne approach, don't notice how quickly he zeroes in on your watery eyes, and pinched expression.

"Here, girl. Let me. They can be stubborn little bastards."

He's reaching for them, a sweet smile on his face, and you relent, quickly trying to smooth out your expression. He doesn't let it go though.

"Something on your mind?"

Clearing your throat you open the fridge, pulling out the carton of eggs you brought over yesterday, along with some fresh vegetables, intent on making omelettes. "Oh, no. I'm um, no. Just still tired, I guess." You smile over your shoulder, trying to sell the story.

He doesn't buy it, you can see it on his face, but he doesn't pry, instead finishing preparation on the coffee you abandoned while you start on breakfast. Silence settles, the comforting kind that seems to only exist this way with Uncle Wayne.

This has become a bit of a routine with you and Wayne, what with you here so frequently, and Eddie sleeping until someone drags him from bed, you've developed this sort of back and forth in the kitchen. Wayne packs a sad lunch of cold cuts on white bread, grumbling as you pass him carrot sticks and celery before he settles at the small dinette to wait for breakfast, newspaper in hand.

You finish his first, grabbing a plate and quickly topping his omelette with a few garnishes. Wayne Munson deserves nice things in life, even if it's just a good breakfast. You set it in front of him on the table, a fork already on the plate, and he looks at you over his reading glasses.

"Thank you, girl. What's the green stuff."

You smother a laugh, unsurprised that he's caught you sneaking green into his food. "It's cilantro. It's good, just eat. Please."

"Alright, alright."

His food is gone when you turn back around to watch him fold up the newspaper and grab his lunch. "Thank you, it was wonderful as usual. Maybe we don't need the leaves on top next time though?"

"Oh, whatever. You just don't want to admit you like rabbit food."

"It'll be our secret," he winks, heading for the door.

Eddie's food is done, already on a plate on the table, and you really can't put off waking him any longer. You grab the mostly empty water glass off the counter, abandoned by Eddie last night after dinner, and pad down the hall.

He's sprawled across the bed, blankets twisted around his legs, old tee shirt riding up his stomach, revealing a thin stripe of pale skin. You don't let yourself stare, shaking off the thought, stepping up to the edge of the bed until your legs hit the mattress. You don't think before dumping the glass right over his head, cackling when he shoots up in bed.

"What the hell, Y/N!"

"Oh please, there was hardly any water in the cup to begin with."

Setting this glass on his messy nightstand, you're unprepared for him to lurch forward, wrap his arms tight around you, and pull you into the bed right on top of him. The squeak that slips past your lips is loud, deafening even, and Eddie tilts his head to the side, something unfamiliar lingering in his eyes.

"Eddie, let me go right now."

"Aw c'mon, babe, don't be such a bad sport."

Trying to wriggle out of his arms isn't working, and he's not letting you go. You resort to pinching his thigh, trying to shake him off, but his arms are tightening instead.

"Why are you acting so weird? Did I do something?"

"No, no." Those perfect lips of his are pulling down into a sharp frown, brows pinched, and brown eyes pleading. "Eds, you didn't do anything just- Let me go."

He does this time, lets you slide off of him, and perch on the edge of the bed, a much safer distance. He's sitting up now, leaning against the wall, watching you silently.

"Okayyy. If I didn't do anything then what the fuck is the problem?"

Eyes fixed on the carpet you focus on pulling at the frayed hem of your shirt, avoiding the question as long as you can. He's got clothes all over the floor, a messy trail to the laundry basket shoved in the corner.

"There is no problem, I just- Nothing."

"Bullshit. Since when do we not tell each other things?" He's scooting closer as he speaks, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he speaks, knee lodging itself against your hip as he faces you.

For a moment you allow yourself to imagine telling him. Letting three little words tumble into the space between you. But the next scenario you see is his disgust, lips pulling up as he leans back. Years of friendship going down the drain so fast, and the thought has tears welling in your eyes, a sob sticking painfully in your throat. You feel a string snap off around your fingers, further damage to your poor shirt, and you look down at it, the long thread tangled around your fingers, too tight, turning your fingertips an unflattering shade of purple.

Eddie sees it too, and he's focusing on pulling the string away, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, tipping his head closer to yours. "Don't cry. You know you can tell me anything, babe. Please."

"What if you hate me?"

His expression shifts, just a bit, like he's confused. "S'not even possible."

His voice is soft, earnest, and genuine, and his eyes are swearing it to be true. You look at his floor again, messy. He needs to vacuum. He needs to clean. And as you focus on the discarded socks and shirts, it's a bit easier to speak, the knot in your chest unraveling just enough to let the words slip past as you you spot the cassette peeking out from underneath his Hellfire shirt.

"I- God, okay, well it's like. If you don't feel the same or whatever, it's fine, obviously. I guess I just have to get it off my chest, and we can forget about it afterward but I-"

He stops you here, fingers on your chin tipping your face towards his, so suddenly you're looking right at those earthy eyes that you were trying to avoid.

"Eds, I love-"

This time, he's cutting you off with his lips on yours, sweet, nervous, trembling just a bit, but intentional. Shock worms its way up your spine, stiff and unfamiliar, but it feels so right, and you're melting into him, like sugar over heat. His hands are shaking too, one resting against your jaw, the other searching for your hip, landing a bit high and sliding down.

"I love you." The words are sticky against your lips, his voice lower than usual, heavier. He doesn't give you a chance to respond, tugging you closer, on top of him as he's moving back. You're on top of him again, but it's blurry, lost in a wave of hazy bliss as his tongue finds yours, muffling your moan. It's sloppy, and maybe you shouldn't like it as much as you do, but it's Eddie. It's more perfect than you had imagined.

His hands roam a bit, curious, finally free to explore like he'd fantasized about a thousand times before, from your neck, a slow crawl down your back, dipping beneath your shirt to feel your skin. When his lips finally graze your jaw, trail down to your neck, your fingers are twisted in his hair, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. Softer, cloying, and shaky. Full of adoration and pleasure.

"Eddie, I love you."

He's not kissing you now, face buried in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning the flushed skin. "Fuck, I love you, babe."

Silence settles as you lay like that, neither of you in any rush to end the moment. You'd he's fallen asleep again, his chest a slow and steady rise and fall, if it weren't for the slow circles his fingers are tracing against the bare skin of your thighs.

"Hey, Eddie?"

He hums in response, the sound a ticklish vibration against your neck, a smile pulling at your lips. "I made breakfast for you. It's probably cold now."

He pulls back to look at you, brushing your hair out of your face, tracing a finger across your features, down your nose, over your lips, a barely-there path up your jaw to your ear. "That's alright. That's what the microwave is for."

It's clear he's not getting up right now, or anytime soon as his lips settle in the hollow of your throat, blazing a hot path up your neck, a wet constellation of soft kisses, eliciting a gasp that dies off in a choked groan.

"You can be breakfast instead," he whispers, right before he sinks his teeth in.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Bully!Eddie seeks you out one morning but he finds you hurt with a scrapped knee because some lowlifes tripped you for being the freaks plaything:-( he's not sure what happens to him but something inside him takes over and he starts to take care of you, pecking away your tears and carrying you to his van so he can drive you to his trailer to get Wayne's first aid kit

this post is 18+, minors dni. (i didn't tag this as dark, because i feel like i didn't make him too crazy of a bully. he's more of a tease, really, he just annoys her, it's not like he's beating her up or something 😭 regardless, don't like -> don't read!)

When Eddie rounds the corner towards your locker, he doesn't expect his sneaker to ram into something soft. Nor does he expect it to groan.

You blink tearily up at Eddie from your spot on the floor, scraped knees to your chest as your back presses against the cool metal doors.

Upon seeing Eddie's perplexed expression the tears in your eyes spill lushly down your cheeks, a broken sob coming from your throat as well as a gushing groan.

You tuck your chin to your chest, silently begging for Eddie to move on and realize this was not the time.

instead, you feel a soft touch on one of your knees, burning as it presses into your cuts, despite being gentle. You hiss and jerk your knees apart, not caring that it exposes your panties from under your skirt.

"'The fuck happened?" Eddie demands, "Did you fall over?"

"Someone tripped me," You sniffle, a sob wracking your frame, "Please, Eddie, just leave me alone!"

Upon hearing you hadn't been the victim of your own clumsiness, Eddie feels his chest tighten. He squats so fast that his knees crack, and you jerk your head out of your arms to stare at him, startled.

"Who tripped you?" His brows are furrowed, nearly knitting together in the middle of his face, "Only I'm allowed to tease you."

"Some- some basketball player," You gush through an anguished sob, "Eddie I really can't do this today, please. Please, just go away!"

"Will you shut your trap about me leaving? I'm not gonna skip out on you," He scoffs, "Do you have band-aids in that little pink purse of yours?"

Your lips puff out in a frown, and you shake your head, smearing a tear away from your eyes with a rough finger. Eddie swats your hand away, but when he strokes your cheek it's gentle, and he cleans away the rest of your anguish.

"'Kay. Can't tell the school nurse, she'll just give you a fuckin' ice pack. I'm gonna fix you up, okay honey?"

You feel his hands grip the bottoms of your thighs before you can process his words, but when you realize he's peeling your back away from the lockers to pick you up you bolt out of his grasp.

He looks offended, "Hey!"

"Don't-! What are you doing?" You smear away another tear from under your eye, the ache prominent behind your lids.

"I'm taking you home," He spells out, rolling his eyes, "So that I can clean you up," He reaches out a hand, "And then I'll drive you back to your place for the day."

"You.. you'll fix me up?"

"Yes," He urges, "You.. you don't think I'd, like, hurt you, right?"

"I dunno," You mumble, eyes downcast, "You push me."

"Not into anything!"

"You trip me."

"I always catch you."

"You say I'm a ditz."

"I'm a super super senior. Don't let me insult your intelligence."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you stare at him from below your lashes. He's waiting, arms wide for you, and when you take a tentative step forwards, he pulls you the rest of the way in.

"There you go," He yanks you to be flush to his chest, breath fanning over your face. You're intimidated by the close proximity, because anytime he clears this much distance between you, he usually has you pinned against something while his hands roam your waist. Your heart thumps in excitement at what you're trained to expect, and you're slightly disappointed when he doesn't touch you further. What he does do, though, is lean forward to peck your cheek, lips shining with your tears when you pull away. You sniffle lightly, hands curled into the loose fabric of his t-shirt, confused and concerned with this new side of Eddie.

It feels nice to have him kiss your tears away. But it's so much more exciting, it gets your stomach in more of a whirl when he kisses your lips, nipping at them until they're red and sore and stinging. Apparently he feels the roving of your fingertips against his chest because his expression darkens slightly, deepening from a grin to a smirk.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, this isn't permanent. I'll be back to pushing you around once you've got bandages on those knees. I think you owe me a thank-you for helping you out, don't you?"

Butterflies swarm through your tummy as you nod vigorously, mouth practically watering at the thought of his cock. You go with him much more happily now that you know what you'll get after he's done, and you find you rather like his sensitive side, even if it only lasts until he's smoothed band-aids over your knees.

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 4 days

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Rick Grimes: Sundress NSFW

Because Rick definitely has a thing for sundresses. Still working on writing smut. I am getting more comfortable with it.

You hadn’t worn a dress since the dead started getting up and walking. It was impractical. You never thought you would wear one again. Until you made it to Alexandria. It had been in a box of clothes for anyone to take. It was white with a blue floral print, flowy, and knee length with a small slit up the side. You had taken it on impulse, but it fit like a glove.

You had yet to wear it because the survival part of your brain was still fighting for control. How would you fight in it, run in it, live in it, survive in it for weeks at a time? But today was hot and the dress was cool. Alexandria is safe, right?

You had been cleaning up around the house when Rick returned sweaty and dirty from his day outside. He saw you in the hallway as you were leaving the bedroom. He froze at the start of the hall which made you pause.

His blue eyes drop down and slowly scan you back up. He huffed to himself tilting his head, his eyes still locked on you. “Rick?” Like the spell had been broken he made it to you in a few long strides. He dropped to his knees wordlessly and yanked you closer to him arms wrapped around the waist. You stumbled and gasped his name. He grabbed your ankle sliding his calloused hand up to your mid-cafe before throwing it over his shoulder. You grab at the wall with one hand, the other going to his curls trying to regain your balance.

His head was already under your dress, his hot mouth open and sucking at your core through your cotton panties. He licks a stripe up the center, his nose bumping your clit and making you tremble. He rubs his face into your clothed core. You can feel the prickle of his bear through the cotton. His teeth catch the band and drag them down. “Ya have no idea what ya’ve started, do ya darlin’?” He pushed your leg that was over his shoulder to your chest to slide your panties off that leg. They slide down the other and drop to the floor. “There are consequences for teasin’ me like ‘at.” He nips at your ankle before pulling it more firmly over his shoulder.

Anything you were going to say was swallowed by a moan as he dives face-first into your pussy. He licks and sucks at you like you're going to be his last meal. His tongue laps at your lips before thrusting into your core. You moan your leg that is on the floor wobbling, your knee starting to buckle. Rick's hands find your ass giving it a firm squeeze and pulling you more firmly onto his face. You tug on his curls. The angle change is delicious, and you are forced to let go to go off him to balance between both walls and then you are practically climbing them. Your nails dig into the drywall as you rock into his face.

You can hear and feel his chuckle at your desperation. His hands tighten on your hips and his beard burns at your sensitive inner thighs. When you try to pull up for a little relief his mouth follows you. You curse and he doubles his efforts. The orgasm builds quickly and with a harsh suck on your clit you come hard. Your arousal floods his mouth as he laps it up. What he can't catch slides down his face wetting his beard.

You are shaky, your body trembling but Rick doesn’t give you a reprieve. He continues licking and sucking through your orgasm and into the next. Your thigh squeezes against him, and you push on his shoulder to get him to stop. You are oversensitive now, your pussy swollen from his attention. He stops his assault and focuses on licking the cum off your inner thighs and leaving love bites and sucking Hickies.

He helps you ease your thigh down and off his shoulder but not before leaving one more sucking kiss on your clit making your body jerk. You meet his darkened eyes blissed out by the pleasure you had just received. His hand leaves a stinging slap on your ass, just bordering on painful. “Turn ‘round.” You didn’t have the chance as he spins you around slamming you against the wall, his body tight against you. You hear the jangling of his belt then feel that hard press of his cock. You moan pressing back harder against him. Rick rubs himself against your soaked pussy gathering your juices. He enters you in one smooth hard thrust. Your nails rake down the wall as your pussy stretches to accommodate him. Even after all this time, it is still a snug fit. Rick is long and thick, but your sopping pussy makes for an easy slide.

He starts fucking you wildly. Hard, fast, slightly uneven thrusts. A hand squeezes at your breast while he sucks at your neck. You press your hands against the wall to steady yourself for his punishing pace. He slows pressing his hand to the center of your back while the other wraps around you to pull you a step backward. You slide your hands down as you bend, arching your back. Rick picks up the pace again and you moan at the deeper penetration. “Ah atta girl. ‘at’s a good fuckin' girl.” His hands come up to trap yours. You open your fingers, and he slips his between to intertwine with yours holding them tighter to the wall.

Rick’s thrusts get sloppy. He bites at your shoulder as he hits his orgasm pumping his seed deep inside you. He rests against your back and squeezes your hands one more time before releasing them and pulling out of you. He kisses the bite mark lovingly and seems to regain his control, “An’ how was your day sweetheart?” You look back and release a breathless laugh. “Did I tell ya, how damn good ya're lookin' today darlin’.”

Taglist @xo-zeze

#twd #the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine

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nburkhardt · 9 months

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Whooooo wants another silly with Steve as a little shit fic?

The idea comes when Eddie rushes out of his house to go to band practice. It makes him smile at the plan forming in his head and the excitement and gasps he’ll get tomorrow.

The next morning is spent making sure the bags are packed and that he’s wearing his basketball jacket to complete the look.

He’s giddy with excitement as he drives to school, putting one backpack on his shoulder and carrying the other once he’s parked. Walking towards the school with a smirk in place. There’s already gasps and whispers as he enters through the doors. He casually makes his way towards a row of lockers, the opposite side of his own and leans against one and knocking on the open one next to it.

“Man, it’s not even eig- Stevie!” Eddie slams his locker shut and beams at him.

His smirk fades into a smile, “Hi lovely” he whispers mostly due to the other students clearly spying on them, “You forgot this yesterday”

Eddie looks confused and he lifts up the bag, “your backpack?”

He hears more gasps and poor attempts at whispering, there’s even sounds of a book dropping. It brings him joy, making him wiggle the backpack again. “Don’t play dumb, Teddy-baby, you know this is yours”

That time he doesn’t whisper, he’s actually a little loud.

Eddie’s eyes widen and his eyes flicker around them before settling back on him, an unsaid question on his face.

It softens when it’s answered by a nod, “yeah, yeah you’re right. My backpack, you got yours?”

Steve so happy that they’re actually learning to communicate while silent, he smiles back and stands straighter to turn away. Showing off the backpack. He looked in the mirror before leaving the house, it is a big contrast to his letterman jacket. What makes it even better is, since the straps are loosen and long, his name is visible over the top.

“Ye-yep, looking perfect, Sunshine boy.” It comes out pitchy and Eddie clears his throat shaking his head before throwing his arms around him, “always, sweet boy”

Steve brightens and looping his arms around him, keeping him close and loving not only the warm of the hug but also the gasps and loud gossiping around them. That brings him joy at the chaos. Eddie seems to enjoy it too by the laughter coming from him.

“Of all the ways to reveal our relationship, honey”

It brings Steve to a blush, he tightens his arms around Eddie and turns his head to press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the blush that creeps up.

“Thought it would be fun, let everyone know who belongs to me”

The edible I took is definitely hitting because this isn’t make much sense anymore but it’s SILLY AND SHORT.

Facts ya don’t need but I’m now thinking about: Steve and Eddie have only been dating for a few weeks when pulls this. It’s also a modern au because I don’t wanna think about the 80s. They still in high school and Steve is wearing Eddie’s backpack that he painted on. There’s the hellfire logo, because he’s obsessed with it. There’s also pins and patches all over it, even a ice cream cone and sailor hat, along with cheer pom-poms (am I spelling that correctly? Idk) ANYWAY. Steve’s backpack is a basic blue, with some doodles from Eddie and Robin. Because of course Robin is there, she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate.

It’s also inspired by my brand new loungefly I got 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Under the cut with the tag list 🫡

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

THE BACKPACK! Clearly not what I’m talking about Steve wearing but it’s glorious and perfect.

#Steve’s a little shit #steddie fic #steddie #Steve x Eddie #nburkhardt writes #relationship reveal #because I’m obsessed with them #and also the idea of Steve just wearing a backpack of Eddie’s is so so so funny #esp when the basketball team still can’t stand eddie #but Steve doesn’t give a shit and loves his metal head boyfriend #their friends hate it but it’s fineeee

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abouttofillhisshoes · 1 month

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I want you now - M.H x Reader // pt.6

A/N: This might be triggering to those who are/ have struggled with addiction. If you are one of these people, be careful. It's never worth it, and addiction is ugly. Some resources will be linked here. Please take care of yourselves!! This chapter is NSFW, minors do not interact. The love of my writer life @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff ily. This is dedicated to all of my fellow addicts, current or in recovery, it gets better, promise. Enjoy my loves ❤️

wc: 4k

part 7

“....what?” he sounds surprised, eyes looking up at you, brows furrowed.

“Go on, you heard perfectly well.”

He smirks, seeing right through you. The composure was all a façade, the pink blush on your cheeks giving you away.

His hand reaches down, lingering over his stomach. He winks at you knowingly.

Delicate fingertips ghost over the head of his cock, and he squeezes himself, letting out a high pitched moan as he did. He was giving you what you wanted. A show.

He continued his movements, stroking himself slowly, never once breaking eye contact. His breathing speeds up, his noises get louder. You can tell he’s getting close. Sitting down on the glass coffee table, you watch him intently.

“That feel good?” you ask, your voice shaking in pure desperation

“Mhhm– felt much better when it was your hand instead of mine,” he answers, slowing down.

He stops completely, sitting up. “Let me make you feel good,” his voice is low, seductive almost. “I promise I'm good,” he bites his lip at you. Good god, he was going to kill you.

He moves down, flipping over on his stomach, patting the space now infront of him. Your eyes widen at his insinuation, your lower belly doing all sorts on somersaults under your skin. The room feels much hotter now.

“Are you–?” “Yes, I am. Let me make you feel good, please,” Your breath hitches at his words, and you can feel yourself melt. Scrambling up, almost knocking over a glass, you sit down in front of him. You're wearing jeans, the material bunching up towards the bottom as you shuffle around on the leather.

The look he gives you is delicious, his eyes raking up and down your frame. You were still wearing clothes, but Matty was quick to take care of that. His hands moved to your belt, undoing it with fervour, slowly pulling them down your thighs. Discarding them in a corner, he turns to your underwear, a simple black number. A bow adorned the front, he moaned at the sight.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. You could hear the desperation in his voice. You nod.

He presses a chaste kiss to your knee, his hands holding your legs spread. The anticipation is almost too much as he trails his kisses further up, nibbling at the skin of your thigh. Deep, purple marks littered the inside of them. A reminder.

He mouths at the material of your panties before slipping them down. He stuffs them into the pocket of his jeans, smirking at your reaction. Licking a thick stripe down your centre, you can't help but gasp at the sensation, losing a hand in his hair.

He speeds up, tongue toying with your clit. Losing yourself in the pleasure, you look down, a messy head of curls directly in your view. This was really happening.

His movements seem irregular, his tongue darting over your clit in patterns. You focus a bit, your eyes widening at the realisation. He was spelling something. His name.

You let out a pathetic moan, feeling him grin against your core.

M-A-T-T-Y.

Another moan, but this time, it didn't come from you. Matty was painfully hard beneath you, gripping your thighs for leverage. You watch him as he grinds into the sofa, groaning at the friction. He was getting off on this.

Both of your noises filled the air, and you grip his curls tighter, grinding down onto his face. He lets you use him for your pleasure, never once pulling back. You could feel the elastic band in your core tightening, getting ready to snap at any second.

“G-god Matty– fuck,” you try to warn him, clenching around nothing. He nods, not daring to pull away. His tongue never lets up, instead speeding up against you, bringing you to the edge. One particularly quick spell of his name pushed you over it.

Your legs shake in his grip, and you were sure there were going to be Matty shaped bruises on your thighs later. You moaned, the thought only intensifying your orgasm. You hear a whimper escape his lips, the vibrations of his mouth overstimulating you.

He doesnt stop until you push him off, whining at the loss of contact. He looks up at you from between your legs, his eyes glossy and chin covered in your slick. Before you could stop yourself, you reach over to your bag that was sitting on the floor next to the sofa.

Matty looks at you confused, raising his eyebrows. God, he looked beautiful like this, a thin layer of sweat sticking to his skin. Pulling out your camera, you snap two photos of him, catching him off guard. The flash shutters in his face, the light capturing his eyes perfectly.

He smiles at the camera for the second photo. He looked fucked out, raw.

“Good?” he asks, a sly grin replacing the innocent smile on his face.

“10 out of 10, would recommend to a friend” you answer cheekily, smiling down at him

“Now get up here so I can return the favour–” you try to scoot down, but he stops you. An embarrassed look spread across his face.

“You don't have to– I already, uhm…” he trails off, gesturing to the damp spot on the front of his jeans. Your eyes widen, snapping up to meet him. His face was flushed a deep shade of red, and he avoided your gaze. He had come in his pants, just from eating you out.

The realisation dawned on you, and you pulled him up on top to lay on you, pressing light kisses all over his face. He squirms under your touch, his expression still slightly ashamed.

“Is that weird? I'm sorry for–” you cut him off, planting a hot kiss directly onto his lips.

“Don't apologise, that was..” you kiss him again, moaning into his mouth. “insanely hot.”

A look of relief washed over his face, and he finally kisses you back. The two of you lay like that, in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow.

One question plagues your mind. The same question he had asked you.

“What are we?”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

As you were nearing the end of the school year, attendance had become more of a suggestion rather than a must. Skipping numerous lessons, you had been spending your days wandering around the city, smoking, talking, listening to music.

Today was different. Matty himself had suggested that you go to your lessons. This took you by surprise. Matty? Going to school? Willingly? You scoff at first, thinking he was joking.

“Nah, seriously, we haven't been in a while. It’d be nice to see what Mr. Henderson has been up to.” you simply shrug, turning around to walk in the direction of the bus stop. The air was thick and humid, and you were sweating under the blazing sun. The bus had come slightly late, forcing you to sit down on the sticky, and quite hot, metal bench.

You and Matty shared a cig, passing it back and forth while staring off into the distance. The inside of the bus was even hotter, the heat starting to get to you. You were clad in a thin white tank top paired with a pair of Mattys basketball shorts.

“We really have to start wearing our own clothes.” you remark, gesturing at Matty, who was wearing one of your shirts over his iconic black skinny jeans. He shakes his head, offering a snide remark.

“We both know I wear your clothes much better than you do, darling,” His smirk was wiped off his face the moment you smacked him upside the head. You sigh contentedly, turning to face the glass of the window. The sun was blinding, reflecting off of every available surface right into your eyes.

The bus came to a screeching halt, and the two of you staggered off of it, Matty almost tripping over the gap between the exit and the floor. You laugh at him, being met with an annoyed glare. The inside of the school was much cooler, the school having invested a bit of money into an air conditioning system. It was more for the staff rather than the students, but you were thankful nonetheless.

Mr. Henderson had glared at the both of you when you walked in, saying something about you finally deciding to show up. You were in your graduating year, and most of your other grades had turned out fine, so you rolled your eyes, looking for a table to sit at.

You're met with George, who was sitting at your usual table. He smiled at you, motioning for you to come sit. Matty is hesitant at first, but reluctantly agrees to sit down. You haven't spoken to George, Adam, or Ross since that day, ignoring Hann’s incessant phone calls to come and talk.

“Hey guys, you well?” George asks, a smile plastered onto his face. Matty offers a murmur, while you answer him, saying you're both doing alright. You were aware Matty was acting like a grade A dickhead, but he did have a good reason.

There's about 20 minutes left in the lesson when George decides to speak again. His voice makes you sad, the pain in it evident. He missed you, and you missed him too.

“I know you're pissed off, but you have to answer Hann’s calls. He’s worried sick and won't stop pestering me about it.”

“He’s not our mother, neither are you. Tell him to go fuck himself, will you?” Matty says, not looking at him, instead eyeing a poster hung at the back of the room. You give him an apologetic look, telling him you’ll think about it. It was a shit move, ambushing the two of you like that. You still didn’t agree with them at all, but in the end, they were still your best mates.

The bell rings, and Matty jumps up, booking it to the door. You shoot George another look before following Matty out the classroom.

“I'm knackered, can we go back to my place?” you nod, hooking your arm in with his, letting yourself be led down the hallway. A teacher stops you, asking where you're going.

“We’re fucking off and going home, thanks for caring!” Matty yells before strolling past her. You giggle at his boldness. Matty was always like that towards figures of authority, mentally spitting in their face with every word that left his mouth.

You had gotten an invite to a house party later that day, showing it to Matty. He agreed, wanting to go as well. You knew Ruby would be there as well. The two of you had become close friends, even exchanging numbers at some point. She was sweet, always greeting you with a hug and a kiss. Her red hair had inspired you to put some peek-a-boos in yours, showing her with an air of pride.

You didn't know whose party it was, only that it was hosted by a girl from your form. The house was in a nicer neighbourhood, mostly inhabited by bankers or lawyers.

The two of you got ready for the party together, correlating your outfits. You’d been told the theme was ‘late 80s’.

Music was blaring in the background, some of Mattys' pretentious ambient stuff. You had hung up fairy lights in his room, which was now technically your room as well. You’d been spending so much time at his place, your stuff littered the floor and drawers.

He was begging you to do his makeup for him, stating he was too shit to do it properly. You reluctantly agree, dabbing light blue eyeshadow onto a brush, lightly applying it to the lids of his eyes. The theme was the 80s, after all.

You had chosen a green dress, thin layers falling over each other. It was slightly shorter in the front, and longer in the back. No sleeves, the plunge was deep enough that you had decided to skip the bra, knowing it would show. Your hair was teased and curled, styled into a classic eighties updo. Your makeup matched with Mattys once again, although the blue around your eyes lacked the intense amount of glitter Matty had put on his.

His outfit was a purple two-piece suit, which you were pretty sure was a halloween costume originally. The sequins stood out against his pale skin, seeing as he decided to forgo a shirt underneath it all. Classic Matty.

His nipple piercing was on display, the sight of it making memories of that night flash through your mind. The way he had hissed at the pain at first before the sound morphed into a high pitched moan. The other nipple was yet to be pierced. You felt like you owned him in a way, the jewellery symbolising that. You're snapped out of your trance when Matty pulls out his red cigarette case.

The two of you do a line before the party, deciding it would be enough to get you through the night. Locking the door behind you, you walked to the bus stop not far away, arriving far too early. He offers you a cigarette, which you gladly accept. You were smoking a lot more these days, your habit becoming rather expensive.

You breathe out the smoke into the warm summer night air. His arms wraps around you, squeezing your waist. You lean into him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. It was musky, inherently masculine. Crickets chirped in the background, the sound oddly comforting. The bus had come late, its doors opening with an ear piercing shriek.

The seats are fairly empty, given it was late at night. He leads you to the back, laying you onto his chest across the seats. The bus rumbles softly underneath you. You feel at peace

The music was loud, with you being able to hear almost a whole street away. The house was filled with people from surrounding schools, with kids hanging out on the terrace and in the garden, drinking out of various different glasses and mugs.

Inside was even worse, the place crawling with people. The music was shit, some generic club and pop beats. You didn't care, you were here to dance the night away with Matty, to forget the stupid fight with the boys.

The drink table was littered with dozens of bottles of liquor, most of them empty. You had gotten there quite late, it almost being 11pm. Matty strolled over to the cabinet, taking out two mugs from the middle shelf.

He pours you a mystery concoction consisting of rum, tequila and a random mixer he had found on the ground next to the kitchen counter. It tasted awful, but it did the trick. You wince when you take the first sip, seeing matty do the same.

“Fuckin hell this tastes like someone wrung out a pair of knickers, jesus Matty,” he just shrugs, downing the rest of his drink, disappearing into the crowd. You follow him, you hand finding his in the chaos.

Spotting a group of people you knew, Matty dragged you to them. Matty immediately takes over the conversation, talking about the time a bartender refused to serve him because he looked quote un-quote “too gay”. Laughter roars from the group, and you can tell he’s basking in the attention. Glancing around the room, you try to find Ruby. You hadn't seen her in a while, not having heard anything from her either.

You hear Matty announce his needing a bathroom break, not-so-politely excusing himself from the group. After he leaves, one of the guys offers to make you another drink, noting your cup was empty. You accept. The table had been cleared off by now, being replaced with more alcohol.

He starts pouring liquids from various bottles into your mug, making friendly conversation. You couldn't for the life of you remember his name, so you just nodded along to his unfunny jokes. God, where was matty when you needed him

This one tasted much better, a delicious blend of nice vodka and cranberry juice. You thank him, flashing him a smile. Both of you make your return to the group, but you don't see Matty. So you ask directions to the bathroom. You're informed that there are, in fact, three (3) bathrooms throughout the house. You groan, making your way to the one nearest to you.

Opening it, you see a couple passionately making love against the sink. Profusely apologizing, you slam the door shut as quickly as possible, turning around to head to the stairs. You can feel a feeling of unease settling itself into the pit of your stomach. Matty was never gone for this long, most of the time you couldn't peel him from your side if you tried.

You walk up to the bathroom next to the stairs, shoving past a sea of drunk people casually sitting on the stairs, nursing their drinks. Cursing under your breath, you nearly trip over an abandoned beer bottle on the last step.

The chipped paint of the wooden door seems to blur as the world starts to move in slow motion. Your hand touches the door handle, pushing it open. You feel your heart drop as you lay your eyes on Matty.

He’d half-hazardly propped himself up against the wall, yet still slouching. The blinding light of the bathroom makes it hard to see. You focus on the colour of the carpet, an ugly brown, before your eyes snap back up to Matty. It's only then you see the needle sticking out of his arm.

The room starts to spin around you, your lungs not able to take in a deep breath. A needle. His jacket was discarded on the floor next to him, the purple sequins shimmering under the cold light. He mumbles something, his eyes finding yours.

You scramble to get to him, slamming the door shut behind you. No one else is allowed to see him like this. Carefully, you pull the needle out of his elbow, gently placing it on the ground next to you. You're terrified, so you shake him. He’s conscious, you gather.

You can't see properly, the world blurring around you. He says something unintelligible, too strung out to even speak properly.

“Fuck, what did you do?” your voice shakes as you pat him down instinctively, making sure he doesn't have anymore dope on him. He comes up clean, and you sigh in relief.

“You gotta try this shit…it's… mad” his voice is small, barely audible.

“Heroin? Matty– fuck you can’t pull shit like this..” the site of the injection is bleeding, the blood trailing down his arm. You reach for a towel hanging on a rack, pressing it to his arm.

His head lolls from one side to the other before he properly looks up at you.

“Man... I'm so fucking high- I think I might love you, honest.” he slurs, his other hand coming up to stroke your face. He smiles. Jesus. Your heart flips at the statement.

“Stop talking.. just stop” you can feel tears well up in your eyes. This is too much, everything is too much.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning light shines through the curtains, illuminating. You haven't slept all night. The walk home had been a hard one, Matty wasn't light. You had carried him home, flung over your shoulder, stopping to let him throw up multiple times.

He just walked into his room, closing the door. Like nothing happened. It was 2 in the morning when you finally sat down, letting it all out. Near-silent sobs echoed through the massive living room, bouncing off the walls. You haven't cried like this since that night three years ago. The night you met him.

Having chain smoked a pack and a half of cigarettes, now it was your time to throw up in the sink. Wiping your mouth clean, you took a drink from the tap.

It was about 8 am when Matty finally walked out of his room, sitting down onto the sofa. The silence between the two of you is loud, like a ringing in your ears.

“You can't do that ever again Matty, you hear?” Your voice is strong, clear. You had been rehearsing what you were going to say to him all night, thinking up an entire monologue, quoting every drug prevention flyer you had ever laid eyes on. But that was all that came out. That was enough.

“I know,” he answers quietly, his eyes meeting yours.

You sit like that, for hours, holding each other like the world was crashing around you. It sure did feel like it was.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

// July 2008, two weeks later //

The two of you were once again walking down a dangerously busy highway, flipping off every car that dared to honk at you. The hot sun was beating down onto your skin, and you could feel yourself start to burn.

He’s holding your hand. Not hooking his arm into yours like he usually did, but properly holding your hand. You gush inwardly at the feeling of his palm against yours, your fingers intertwining with each other.

You decide to stop at an ice cream truck, a rarity around these parts of the city. The truck is white, the side being plastered with a wide variety of different ice cream choices. The two of you stand there for a good five minutes, deciding on what to buy.

“There’s so many choices, innit? Who even takes the time to dream up this amount flavours!” His voice is loud, angelic laughter filling your ears. You respond with a hum and a squeeze of his hand.

He's covered in this giant black David Bowie shirt, it almost reaching his knees. It's endearing, seeing him being swallowed up by it. He eventually settles on a bubblegum flavoured popsicle, pointing at the picture like an excited child. You choose a generic two scoop vanilla ice cream cone, smiling at the vendor as he hands it to you.

You take your wallet out of your bag to pay, but his hand swats yours away.

“I have to regain some sort of status now, can't have you spoilin me too much.” he says with a wink, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, handing it to the vendor. The truck is elevated off the ground, so he has to lift himself onto his toes.

He stretches his arm out to give the man the money, causing his sleeve the ride up his arm. That's when you notice it. Track marks. Fresh ones.

“What the fuck Matty.” you grab his arm, causing him to drop both of your ice creams onto the ground. He winces at your touch, retching his arm out of your grasp. He’s too weak, and you pull him closer to get a better look. They were definitely fresh, recent.

A pang of betrayal spreads its way through your body. He had promised you. He had sworn to you he would never touch it again. He lied to you.

“I can explain-” he starts, sucking in a deep breath. “Ruby was just ther-” “Ruby gave it to you? Our Ruby? Jesus, i didn't think she was also-” you cut yourself off, feeling tears roll down your cheek. God, could it get any worse?

You take a step back, giving Matty a once over. The look in your eyes was one of pure hatred, and he recognised it. He had lied to your face. He never lied, you never lied to each other, ever.

“Im so sorry- I just..” he trails off, hiding his arms behind his back. He was ashamed, you could tell. He felt small under your eye, shrinking even smaller. “You don't understand, you can't possibly-”

“Don't speak to me, Matthew.” you see his expression change. Sadness. Hurt. How could he look at you like that when he was the one who betrayed you? He broke your trust, not the other way around. You were properly crying now, hot tears staining your face. His eyes looked at you, begging, pleading with you.

You turn around, leaving him standing. Leaving him.

The lighter is heavy in your hands, you can feel the rhinestones under your fingertips, taunting you. It was the lighter he had gifted you, his initials scrawled on the side.

Lighting a cigarette, you don't look back.

#the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #matty healy angst #tw:drugs #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you

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semisolidmind · 1 year

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Poor Tripitaka can’t even considering kicking wukong out of the group in this AU because it’d mean setting the beast free to run among many innocents and it’d also mean he’d just snatch reader with him. Even if Tripitaka manages to fend him off with the spell there’s nothing stopping him from tailing them, offing everyone in their sleep and taking reader anyway.

Plus it’d also mean that he wouldn’t be under obligation to protect the monk anymore so it’s all the more reason for him to eat him too.

Guanyin would probably have to put some kind of protective spell on reader so that every time Wukong tries to touch her, in anyway that isn’t a means of protecting her from the demons they encounter on the journey, it triggers the Tightening Spell.

ooohoohoo yes

poor tripitaka indeed. at least in the original, his most powerful diciple was just impulsive, not trying to eat him.

i was playing around with the idea that bad end's journey restraints are a bit more excessive than the originals. like instead of just the crown, there's also wrist or ankle bands. like maybe anytime he goes to touch reader the bands throw him backwards and away from her.

or maybe it's like inuyasha; reader is the one given the spell that pushes him away or drags him to the ground. that would give her a bit more agency over him, and she really needs it. she can decide whether or not she wants him close. however, this would definitely piss wukong off. reader can expect loud cussing fits, plenty of resistance, and threats of "punishment 👀"

"Peaches! Let me up right now or I SWEAR when I get out of these–"

"Down boy!"

"SON OF A–!!" *a loud boom as his restraints drag him further into the ground*

though it doesn't actually hurt him, it is very annoying when all he wants is to be near her. occasionally, when he's been good and hasn't threatened anybody or murdered anyone unnecessarily, reader will let him get close enough to touch her. she'll hold his hand, even. it's like training a dog.

#bad end wukong #however once or if the restraints are removed #hell go right back to his bastardly ways

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jedineedlove · 7 months

Text

LMK VS Ledgend

Lady Bone Demon:

LMK:

Lady Bone Demon had a recurring vision in which she saw herself destroying the Mortal Realm, a dream whose significance she could not understand at the time. To end the suffering of the Mortal Realm and its inhabitants because of its imperfections, Lady Bone Demon took on the guise of a human advisor named Ivory Lady and guided a mortal Emperor to become a better person for the world and his people.

However, as she observed the ruler and his advisors neglecting the plight of the innocent, Lady Bone Demon became disappointed with the mortal realm's ability to effect change. Ultimately, she made the choice to obliterate the Mortal Realm, replacing it with a brand new one, as she deemed the existing realm's flaws to be irredeemable. The presence of Lady Bone Demon in the Emperor's court had a profound impact, causing the Chief of War to succumb to her influence. In a gesture of her immense power, she bestowed upon him a portion of her own abilities.

It says on her wiki page that there have been misconceptions about Lady Bone Demon serving the Celestial Realm but there are several implications of this being false some being: The Mayor mentioned that Lady Bone Demon's plan was limited to the Mortal Realm prior to her confinement, corroborating her account in the flashback sequence in "Time to Be Warriors". Lady Bone Demon did not harbor any animosity towards the Celestial Realm. Her objective to remake it as well was to prevent immortal entities from obstructing her plans for the Mortal Realm, which would enable her to rectify her error, as she had not anticipated the intervention of celestial beings during her first attempt.

Although her original plan to recreate the world only involved the mortal realm, Lady Bone Demon was met with opposition from immortal beings since she had ill will toward them. Monkey King was able to defeat her, and while he intended to destroy her, Tang Sanzang insisted that Lady Bone Demon should be locked up until she could learn the error of her ways.

JTTW:

Baigujing / White Bone Spirit / White Bone Demoness, Lady Baigujing A Demonic Skeleton and Ruler of the White Bone Mountain

She is presumed to have once been a human turned into a demon after death which if is true, would make her unique among the Journey to the West demons, whose original self is either a magical animal or an ordinal animal or occasionally a deity or at least a servant of deities.

She disguised herself as a village girl and offered him and his disciples poisonous fruits. Baigujing appeared as a beautiful woman with a voloptuous body, pale skin, and long pure-white hair that reached her heels. She had no eyes and in her hollow eye sockets were ghostly white flames, which extinguished upon her death and her lower face was hidden by a veil, behind it was the lower jaw of a human skull. She wore very VERY revealing clothes. Having survived the attack from Wukong, she dug underground to recover. She returned a second time disguised as an elderly woman. She lied to the group, causing them to believe that the village girl from earlier was her daughter. She returns a third time as an elderly man who lies about having a daughter and wife. She taunts Sun Wukong, provoking him, and engaging him into attacking her by using his powers, and only he can hear her. he finally beats her with his staff and kills the demon, revealing that she was just a skeleton spirit. Tang Sanzang, who initially believes Wukong, but Zhu Bajie convinces Tang Sanzang that Sun Wukong transformed the corpse into a skeleton to evade the Band-tightening spell. He cuts his ties with Sun Wukong and sends him away.

Legends:

Her early years are described as being like any other Alpha Daemon created by the original demons since antediluvian times and pent her youth in the underworld making mayhem and becoming acting least of the gashadokuto. Some say she was older than the planet in the Solar system over 4 billion years old.

Gashadokuro literally "rattling skeleton", also known as Odokuro are mythical creatures in modern Japanese mythology.

She left the underworld like other demons to earth but due to the gods she and the rest of the gashadokuro first resided in Japan and adapted as youkai there she abandoned her army and moved back to China by herself so she could leave her responsibility. It says that after her death by Wukong, she went to Diyu and seduced Yanluo Wang and became his secret concubine. She basically took control over him and ruled the underworld herslef.

She was a master manipulator whose demonic charisma allowed her to wrap others around her fingers like marionettes, with centuries of experience in planning, which allowed her to always be several steps ahead of her opponents. She had no problems surrendering or even dying if it meant she could avenge herself in the future or destroy her enemies alongside her. She was a sadistic trickster who enjoyed taunting her victims before killing them, tormenting them with mind tricks she truly believed herself to be greater than the rest of them, with no exceptions. Her true form was that of a giant skeletal daemon much like other gashadokuro and was as high as, if not even higher, than the Shanghai Tower

With spirits of ghostly white flames hovering by her side and acting as her minions in combat. Dripping from her eye sockets and jaw was viscous black blood that disintegrated anything it touched, as well as transforming any human into new gashadokuro.

Fun Facts:

In the Movie, The Monkey King Conquers the Demon, Baigujing is the main antagonist and there were some changes to the novel. One major one I wanted to share was that LBD was the daughter of the Nine-Tailed Vixen aka making her related to Jin and Yin.

She is also the main antagonist from my favorite Monkey King movie: The Monkey King 2

Thoughts

There was a scean in LMK that interested me.

In the image, we see of course in the center LBD herself, and on either side is a young beautiful woman and an older woman most likely meant to represent her old lay and young women design we see in the novel. But the two all the way in the back could be disguises but they do look like her minions from the Monkey King 2 Movie.

I am not saying this is true this is just an observation.

Also maybe her mega mech might be a representation of her full tower-sized skeleton form from her legends and we see in Monkey King 2

Also with her connection to the Kings of Death in the Underworld and season 5's antagonist who knows she may make a comeback in away.

Hope you all Enjoyed: :)

#lego monkie kid #jttw #lmk #fan thoughts #journey to the west #lego monkey kid theory #lmk lady bone demon host #lady bone demon #lmk mayor

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lotus-duckies · 1 year

Text

okay so i actually find this really interesting

the last time the band tightening spell was used in a significant capacity was during the baiguijing arc, and the focus seemed to be framed on Sun Wukong's pain, with dramatic music and it's mostly spent on him screaming and writhing and trying to kill the yaoguai, and Sha Wujing and Zhu Bajie are simply pleading for Tripitaka to stop and for Sun Wukong to stay in the group. They are defending him.

Now, the focus seems to be on Tripitaka and his actions. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing outwardly call him cruel, ask him why he isn't nicer to Sun Wukong, and he deflects their accusations by shifting the blame to SWK, how he's an unfilial disciple, a wild ape of a person he can't control, who mind you is unconscious.

Even the set up to this scene displays how SWK's and Tripitaka's relationship is strained and during and after this, he's shown in some kind of dead-inside or defensive distress, clearly coping with his actions and unwilling to accept what he's done.

It's very complex

#tripitaka #tang sanzang #zhu bajie #sha wujing #sun wukong #journey to the west 1986 sequel #jttw #xiyouji #xyj

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luv4fandoms · 2 years

Text

At Last-RalphxF!Reader (CH 4)

AHHH IT IS FINALLY HERE!!! Also just a heads up, the next chapter will in fact be spicy 🔥

Summery: After accepting Ralphs proposal the both of you knew you couldn't wait to get married...so a month is long enough to plan a wedding right?

Pairings: Ralph x Female!Reader

Word count: 8,769 (tis a big boy)

Warning: Extreme fluff!! I teared up writing this cuteness! Some spiciness at the start.

This is also on ao3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5

I also have a Ko-Fi 😊

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

"Ohh yeah yeah

You smile

Oh and then the spell was cast"

You sighed happily as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you felt his hands leave your cheeks, sliding down to your waist where he held you. Your tongues gently wrestled, neither of you wanting to dominate the kiss, simply bask in the other's presence. You felt his grip tighten as you softly sucked his bottom lip, a quiet moan leaving him before he began the kiss again, this time more eagerly while pulling you closer. You'd be lying if you said that Ralph and yourself hadn't been in this exact position many times in the past week, after that night he would ask to kiss you at any chance he could, even though you told him he didn't have to ask, the sweet boy still always waited for permission. The kissing had been clumsy at first, passionate but clumsy, to which he profusely apologized before explaining, while completely flushed, that he had never REALLY kissed anyone before either. You were each other's first on everything it seemed, including…

"Ah!" He whimpered when he felt you grind down on him, your position in his lap making the movement easier, it also made it easier to feel what you could do to him with just a simple kiss.

"Ralphie" you whined, repeating the motion.

"Darling…we-we can't" he panted, yet his hands did nothing to stop your hips…In fact he helped move them.

"But Ralphie, surely there are other things we could do?" You pouted, Ralph had told you that he wanted to wait until your wedding night for the two of you to give yourselves to each other, he said it was romantic, becoming truly one on the day you promise yourselves to one another.

"We-we should wait" he moaned, hips pushing up to meet yours, dragging a moan from your lips that had a whimper falling from his, you knew this was hard for him, waiting, just like it was hard for you. You had to give him an A for Patience though, because yours was running thin.

"Ralphie" you sighed, leaning in to kiss him again just as you heard the door open.

"Ugh really?on the couch?" Lauren asked in a voice full of disgust as she came into the room, followed by the other's. You quickly scrambled off of Ralph while he grabbed a nearby pillow and pressed it over his lap. Both of you were flushed and breathing quickly as you righted yourself, Jason snickering at the two of you.

"Oh it's young love Lauren" Victoria stated before looking at the two of you.

"But really please not the furniture, at least not in here" you both nodded, slightly jumping as she let the large folder fall to the table with a loud 'thud'.

"Now, we already have the venue, and the food, we also have the band" Victoria started, looking over at your friends who had happily agreed to play at your wedding…well…Horace and Jason had happily agreed, Lauren thought this was crazy but was happy you were happy, and Nick tried to talk you out of it but after you explained the whole "perhaps your past life was actually where you were now" he went on a rant about how that could possibly me true and then he was ok with the idea.

"But we still have much to do. We still need an overall theme, I'm thinking glitz and glamour" she smiled excitedly, of course that's what she was thinking. You looked over at Ralph, your hand coming to hold his and bringing his attention away from the large folder.

"What about you Ralphie, what would you like our wedding to be?" You asked, watching as he smiled at the simple sentence, you had noticed it a few other times, the way he would get both giddy and completely melt at the words "our wedding".

"Oh no my love, anything you want, this is your big day" he told you, and you leaned over to kiss him, him happily returning it.

"No sweetheart, this is our big day, both of us get a say" you explained, you knew he wasn't used to it, you knew Victoria usually planned everything and ran everything, but she wasn't about to do that for your wedding. You appreciated her helping, but her brother would have a say in this.

"I think glamourous would be a wizard idea" he started, making Victoria clap, though his eyes never left yours.

"But instead of diamonds covering everything…we have the colors be black and gold? With a few crystals and pearls maybe" he finished, you could easily see his vision, and honestly it was beautiful.

"That sounds breathtaking," you smiled.

"Why black and gold?" Victoria asked, kind of upset he didn't share her vision.

"Because it's elegant," he started

"And because…the first night we danced together…the first night I fell in love with (y/n), she was wearing a black and gold dress" he smiled…Oh how this boy could make your heart flutter.

"Oh Ralphie" you smiled, cupping his cheek and kissing him gently, a kiss that he happily returned.

"Very well, black and gold it is" Victoria stated, slightly disappointed, but also slightly happy her brother had found someone to marry.

"Well now that we have the colors we can work on the venue decor, the flowers, the cake, the invitations. (Y/n) dear we need to shop for your dress and the bridesmaids dresses, Ralph sweetie you need your tux and the groomsmen tuxes" Victoria rambled. Victoria took her job as future sister-in-law, and maid of honor very seriously. You remember asking Victoria to be your maid of honor, she was pressing you to know who you'd choose, and though originally you were going to pick Lauren, the look on her face said "pick me and I'll kill you" so you quickly chose Victoria, earning an excited cheer and rib crushing hug.

"What shall we check off today?" Ralph asked, slipping his hand into yours, gently running his finger against your engagement ring.

"As much as possible" Victoria started.

"Why don't we go see about the cake, flowers, and invitations, and then we can all meet at the Ritz for lunch, afterwards Victoria and I will shop for dresses while Ralphie, you and the group can shop for suits" you suggested.

"That's a marvelous idea!" Victoria exclaimed, already standing with her folder.

"Wizard idea my love" Ralph smiled, leaning in but pausing for a moment to look at you, after your small nod he gave you a quick peck before standing, pulling you with him.

"Alright, what time should we meet up?" Jason asked Victoria, who then looked at the clock, it was already seven a.m…their sleep schedule was another thing you had to get used to.

"How about one? Should give us ample time to get done" Victoria told him, earning nods from everyone before quick goodbyes were exchanged and you were whisked out of the building. The first stop was the florist, who, after telling your vision to, suggested white Peonies, white Anemones and a beautiful flower he called a black velvet Petunia. A combination which paired with some branches and ribbon he said he could get in black and gold sounded amazing. Pleased with your ideas for the centerpieces and bouquet you all moved onto the invitations. Which surprisingly didn't take long, after telling the colors the woman happily showed you a few options, saying she could get them in your colors and Ralph absolutely fell in love with the script and beautiful envelope, so of course you happily chose those. Next…The cake. You knew this part would take a bit, and it was at this, as you all sat down you realized you didn't even know what Ralph's favorite flavor of cake was.

"What is your favorite flavor Ralphie?"

"What flavor do you prefer, my love?" You both asked, pausing for a moment before laughing.

"I suppose we had the same thought," you smiled.

"I suppose we did," he smiled, leaning over as you gave him a quick kiss, his hand taking a hold of yours.

"I quite like (f/f)" you told him, watching as his face lit up.

"And here I thought you couldn't be even more divine, that's my favorite as well" he told you, watching as your face lit up as well. Ralph enjoyed every time your face did that, light up with happiness due to him, he was quickly finding himself becoming addicted to it. He was pulled from his thoughts though when the baker who they must have went to for their lavish parties walked over.

"My two favorite clients" she smiled, before looking over at you.

"And who is this?"

"This is (y/n)" Victoria introduced before Ralph added excitedly.

"My fiance"

"Oh my God" she gasped, quickly sitting down.

"You're getting married?! Oh Ralph I'm so happy for you!" She exclaimed.

"Your mother would be so happy" she told him in a calmer tone, taking his hand in hers and earning quick nods from him, he didn't speak though, and when you looked at him you could see withheld tears. You gently ran your thumb along the hand that still held yours, earning his attention as you gave him a gentle smile, he smiled back, a small tear slipping down his cheek that you quickly wiped away.

"Mother would have loved you" he whispered.

"I would have loved her too, after all, I have her to thank for bringing you into this world" you told him, hand still cupping his cheek.

"Ok now you are going to make me cry" the woman sniffled, letting go of Ralph's hand and gently wiping her eyes.

"Lucile was a friend of our mother's," Victoria explained.

"She was practically my sister, we grew up together, and I can tell you right now that the love I just saw displayed…she would be overjoyed by" she told you, making your heart clench while you looked over at Ralph. You smiled and leaned in, him quickly following your lead and sharing a quick kiss.

"Ok, before anymore tears are shed, what are we thinking for the big day?"

"Our colors are black and gold" Ralph explained, and you were shocked Victoria hadn't answered, looking over you saw her smiling at her brother as he happily talked to Lucile and you wondered how often they saw this woman as children, she sounded like she would have been a sort of aunt figure to them, maybe that is why she sat back and let him talk…maybe this whole time Victoria cut him off with strangers as a weird way of protecting him?

"Oh, so elegant, do we have flowers?" She asked, looking over at you to bring you into the conversation.

"Oh yes, White Peonies, White Anemones, and Black Velvet Petunias" you told her.

"That combination and color palette are already giving me ideas" she smiled, looking down to sketch out a design. When she finally showed you all the picture, all you could think was how perfect it was. A six layer cake, the first white with a gold filigree at the bottom, the second a black layer with gold interwoven cross hatching, the third a layer covered in gold sparkle, the fourth another white layer with gold at the top and piped white petals, the fifth a black layer with draped gold pearls, and the very bottom layer would be black with gold lacing at the top and bottom. It would also be decorated with your flowers.

"Oh my" you gasped, Ralph looked over at you just as struck by the image and with a shared glance you both knew, that was your wedding cake.

"We love it!" Ralph exclaimed.

"Wonderful!" She said just as excitedly

"Now do we have a flavor in mind?"

"Well (y/n) and I both enjoy (f/f)" he told her.

"But we were thinking about perhaps making each layer different- for our guests" he added

"I do believe Victoria enjoys chocolate, don't you?" You asked, a slight teasing smile on your lips as you looked to your soon to be sister, who for the first time since you've met him, blushed.

"I do enjoy a good chocolate" she smiled back at you, earning a giggle from the both of you.

"We can definitely do that, we can have the top layer as well as the bottom layer be (f/f) and then the rest be different" she told you, before excusing herself to go grab some samples of their other flavors. After trying them and choosing the flavors you wanted she told you she would have it in time for your chosen date, a few shared hugs later you were just about to head out when she stopped you, asking if she could talk to you alone. You nodded to Ralph and watched as he walked out with Victoria.

"I just wanted to have a word. I've known those two since I was young and they were babies, Ralph is like a nephew to me"

"I can definitely see that" you smiled.

"It makes me so happy to know that he's found someone who loves him, I saw it in the way you looked at him today, and the way you interact with him…I know Ralph can be a handful, he's always been a very eccentric boy, but you are patient with him, you let him talk and get his thoughts out and I just wanted to tell you that I truly appreciate that dear. I know that he is in good and loving hands, and I hope you know that you are as well" she smiled, her words making you blink back tears, this woman who had seen your Ralphie as a baby, watched him grow up, was thanking you for something that came so naturally…Loving him.

"You don't have to thank me, I'm just happy I found him. He's unlike any man I've ever met, he makes me feel so seen and…Honestly he makes me feel like a princess, he really is my prince charming" you smiled.

"Then dear, I'm so happy to provide the cake for your fairytale" she smiled, leaning in to hug you, a hug you happily returned before she ushered you out.

"Don't make him wait" she smiled, and with that you left, and sure enough, as soon as you left Ralph's hand was in yours.

"What was that all about?" Victoria asked as you all began to head to the jewelry store since some things had gone faster than expected so you had time, and both you and Ralph needed wedding bands.

"She just wanted to tell me how happy she was, and how she was thankful Ralphie and I are together" you smiled, earning a smile from the both of them.

"She has always been like an aunt or even a second mother to us" Ralph told you.

"Do you remember when you got into the garden at her house, you tore up all her carrots and she disciplined you. Ralph wouldn't stop being upset about it for a week, he thought she truly hated him" Victoria told the story and you looked over to see Ralph blushing as she revealed his secrets.

"Awe Ralphie"

"What about when she caught you kissing the boy down the road behind her garden shed?" Ralph replied quickly, making Victoria gasp, not only at the fact that he brought up the memory, but the fact he stood up to her.

"What about when you put on that play in her living room? The one you wrote yourself and you insisted on playing every part, even the girls, you kept changing between a suit and a dress"

"Are there pictures of this?" You chimed in, causing Victoria to smile and Ralph to look over at you, a small whimper coming from him at you being happy about the embarrassing story.

"Oh you were probably so adorable though, being so happy to play out your story" you told him, looking into those puppy dog eyes, that was what you had come to realize Ralph slightly reminded you of in the time you had been with him, a very happy and loveable puppy.

"It's embarrassing" he whined, looking away from you.

"But it was something you were passionate about, and therefore that makes it adorable" you told him, leaning up to kiss his cheek and watching as he beamed at you, quickly leaning down to capture your lips. The two of you shared a brief kiss before walking into the jewelry store.

"Hello again" the man smiled, after all it had only been a little over a week since you were in here buying jewelry on your shopping trip.

"What can I help you with?"

"We're looking for wedding bands, well, they are looking for wedding bands" Victoria explained, the man looked over at the two of you and smiled.

"Ah yes, the Ruby engagement ring, I'm glad to see it was accepted"

"Happily so" Ralph beamed as you both walked towards the counter.

"Well you are in luck my friends, the engagement ring actually came with a matching wedding band" he told you, pulling out the tray and showing that there was in fact a matching band. A beautiful band with oval shapes that had two Rubies and four smaller diamonds in each. In between five larger diamonds.

"Well we most certainly have to get that" Ralph smiled at you.

"Now we just need to find one for you," you replied.

"I'd be honored if you picked it out" he told you, his eyes gazing into yours with complete seriousness.

"Oh Ralphie, are you sure?"

"Completely, knowing you chose it for me makes it all the more special" he smiled, watching as your gaze softened even more, a look of pure love in your eyes before you leaned in and captured his lips.

"It's me who would be honored" you whispered, your breath fanning against his face and making him dizzy, truly the wedding couldn't get here fast enough for him. He watched you slowly look through all of the wedding bands, giving each one a thorough inspection to find one you felt really fit him. He watched you with such love, getting lost in every detail of you that he slightly jumped when you finally spoke.

"Ah ha! That one" you smiled up at the man from your crouched position, having gotten down to get a better look. He watched you point to a tray and the man pull it out for you, you happily standing before looking over at him.

"This one" you smiled. He looked over at the ring and gasped, it had oval shapes as well, though these ovals were pure diamonds, with triangles pointing up and down in between each oval, and each of the triangles has a smaller diamond. Truly it was a beautiful ring.

"It's beautiful" he spoke still in awe, this was what made you think of him? It was so beautiful and elegant and surely this was too much right? Surely you didn't see him as a diamond?

"A beautiful ring for a beautiful boy" you smiled, his face flushed completely as his eyes snapped to you, beautiful doe eyes wide at your words.

"I think it's perfect," you smiled. Watching as he swallowed, trying to collect himself after your compliment.

"If you think it's perfect than so do I my love" he smiled.

"I'll wrap them up" the man smiled at your little scene. After that you all were off to the Ritz for lunch and to meet up with your friends. The lunch was great, you all chatted happily while you ate, though the one thing you didn't care for was how one of the waitresses kept staring at Ralph. You leaned over and kissed his cheek just as he took a bite, causing the boy to quickly look over at you, to which you simply smiled at him.

"Just cause" you told him, watching as he leaned forward after swallowing, you happily gave him a quick kiss on the lips before hearing your friends pipe up.

"Alright not while I'm eating" Lauren told the two of you, causing you both to laugh. But Ralph slid his hand across the table, taking yours in his before bringing it up to his lips.

"I can't wait to marry you," he smiled.

"Neither can I Ralphie"

"Is there anything else I can get you?" The waitress asked, well, asked Ralph who didn't even bother to look at her, figuring she was addressing Victoria as most people did.

"No thank you, unless you all are ready to go?" You told her, looking around at everyone.

"Yes I think we better go if we want to find you a good wedding dress" Victoria smiled, having seen the woman eyeing her brother as well.

"Oh! You're getting married?" The girl asked, eyes now on you.

"Yes" you smiled, holding up the hand that was still grasping Ralph's but still able to show the ring.

"My, that is a lovely ring" she gasped.

"Thank you, my Ralphie does love to spoil me" you smiled at Ralph, leaning in to give him another quick kiss that had the boy beaming.

"Anything for you my love" he mused. And you watched the girl slightly huff.

"Right, I'll be back with the check" she stated before quickly leaving.

"I think you just broke that poor girl's heart," Lauren laughed.

"Her heart and eyes were in the wrong place" you shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Ralph asked, looking between you and Lauren before looking over at the waitress, completely unaware of what just silently happened between you two.

"She…it's nothing" you laughed.

"The girl was eyeing you, and (y/n) was not so subtly telling her that you were off the market" Lauren explained. Making you look at her, and Ralph to look at you, wide-eyed. Ralph had his own worries in the back of his mind that you would one day wake up and change your mind, saying you didn't want him. But to hear that you were telling other women that he was yours, it made his heart flutter…and his pants tight. Coughing he subtly slipped his napkin onto his lap and leaned forward to try to hide himself from your view.

"Love, you don't have to worry, I'm all yours" he smiled, leaning in to kiss you, lips just inches away when he heard the voice of the waitress again.

"Your check" his eyes opened, noticing yours staring behind him, he quickly closed the gap, hand coming to rest of your cheek as he kissed you, an unspoken "I'm yours". When he pulled away the waitress was gone, and all of your friends were smirking.

"We better go then" Victoria laughed while standing.

"Yes let's" Ralph nodded, standing as well and taking your hand to help you up. You all walked outside and into the busy street.

"Well, this is where we part ways" you told him, watching as he looked at you, the sadness showing clear in those amber eyes.

"You can't see the bride's dress before the wedding, it's bad luck" you told him, cupping his cheek.

"The wedding can't come soon enough" he told you.

"It really can't" you smiled, before quickly kissing him as you let go of his hand. You back away to stand next to Victoria, Ralph still looking at you.

"I won't keep her long"Victoria told him, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"She'll be back in your arms by the end of the day Ralph, she needs to get her dress, and you all need to find your suits" she explained, hooking her arm through yours.

"Now off you go" she shooed him and began pulling you away. You look back at Ralph just as he looked back at you. You smiled and blew him a kiss, watching as he caught it and held it to his chest, smiling as well.

"I hope you don't mind, I invited some friends to help, I figured we could make an event out of this special moment" she said once you both reached the dress shop. You didn't know any of Victoria's friends, but it did make you nervous, Victoria came from money, and most likely so did her friends, you on the other hand did not, you were from very different social classes.

"Oh no I don't mind" you lied, walking with her to where three other girls sat.

"(Y/n) this is Florence, Josephine, and Lillian, my three best friends" Victoria beamed, gesturing to a redheaded woman with a bright red dress on, a blond woman wearing a gray dress with a fur shawl, and lastly a black haired woman with a gold dress.

"Ladies this is my soon to sister-in-law (y/n)" Victoria introduced.

"Hello" you smiled, shyly waving at the women.

"Hello dear" the one named Josephine smiled.

"Hello" Lillian nodded.

"So Ralph actually convinced someone to marry him?" Josephine asked, looking at you then Victoria…oh…this one was going to be trouble.

"It didn't take much convincing, her and my brother are madly in love" Victoria explained.

"Really?" She asked.

"Yes" you piped up, earning her attention.

"Ralph is everything I've ever looked for in a man" you told her.

"Except for the man part" she mumbled, earning a slap to her leg from Josephine. Ok this one was already pissing you off.

"Let's start looking shall we dear" Josephine smiled, standing up and taking your other arm as she and Victoria led you around the shop. It didn't take Victoria long to find a dress she loved for her maid of honor dress, but by the time you went into the dressing room both Victoria and Josephine were holding five dresses each for you to try on.

The first one you tried on was not your style at all, but it was very much Victoria's the slim white dress was completely covered in silver beads and jewels with a matching headband and gloves, you knew this wasn't the one but you came out to show everyone anyways.

"Oh that is absolutely beautiful! Completely not your style dear but beautiful on you" Victoria smiled.

"I think this would be much better suited as your wedding dress Victoria" you laughed but admired yourself in the mirror.

"Victoria getting married? Now that would be a sight to see" Florence laughed.

"I could see her in it though" Lillian added, causing Florence to roll her eyes.

"Let's try on another one" Josephine clapped, you simply nodded and tried on the next, which was a much longer gown, no jewels this time but it did have a lace overlay. Overall it was a very simple but elegant dress, and your crowd thought as much.

"It's a little…Plain" Josephine stated.

"Yeah I thought that too" you said.

"Not sure if it would go with the theme" you added.

"Oh what is your theme?" Josephine smiled

"Victoria probably picked it out since Ralph usually just sits in the back and lets Victoria run the show" Florence laughed..ok why was she here again? She didn't even sound like a friend to Victoria at this point.

"Actually Ralph did choose the theme" Victoria defended her brother.

"Oh no" Florence started before turning to you.

"I would say I feel sorry for you but you did sign up for this"

"The theme is Black and Gold" you stated, turning away from Florence to face Josephine.

"Ralphie picked it because of the dress I wore on the first night we danced together, he said that was when he started falling in love with me" you smiled, hearing a snort from Florence,but Josephine was beaming.

"That is so romantic!' she sighed.

"We definitely need to find you the right dress," she quickly added.

"Definitely!"

The next few dresses were ok but still not the one, though one you did like that was kind of fun was one that was more of what you think of when you think of a "flapper" style dress. Different layers of beads that moved when you danced, there were also crystals on the bodice down to the hips.

"I think that would be more for the reception, more fun to dance in" Victoria smiled excitedly.

"Oh Ralph would love that, and paired with my tap shoes" you smiled back, twisting back and forth to watch the beads swing.

"Oh he'd fall in love all over again" she laughed.

"I say we get it as a party dress then" Josephine clapped excitedly.

"I agree, we are getting that one too" Victoria nodded before shooing you back into the changing room. A few more dresses and a few more nos, until the very last dress that you slipped into your body. A long fitted dress that flared at the bottom, the neckline was a deep V, showing off your collarbones and the top of your breasts. The sleeves were short but long enough to deal over the tops of your arms, and the best part, it was bejeweled. Not in an obviously overly jeweled sort of way, but in jewels that didn't even look like they were there until you moved and they caught the light. Walking out you knew you had a smile on your face that simply screamed "this is the one". All the women looked shocked,even Florence and Lillian. But it was Victoria who spoke up first as you admired yourself in the mirror.

"You look beautiful" she breathed, you looked at her through the mirror, her hand placed on her chest and held back tears in her eyes.

"Awe, Victoria" you turned, walking over to hug her.

"I'm fine dear but you…This is the one" she whispered.

"It really is" you smiled at her, turning back to the mirror, and suddenly, suddenly it all began to sink in…you were in the 1920's…Getting married to a man you had only really known for a little over a week but were already completely in love with…This was crazy, the few friends you had back home would say you were completely insane, and yet…You couldn't be happier.

"Oh wait!" Josephine jumped from her seat, running off excitedly before quickly returning, she helped you put on the full length while silk gloves, putting large crystal earrings in your ears and placing a jeweled headband on your head, a headband that had a long veil attached to it.

"I'm getting married" you breathed, honestly you didn't think this day would ever come, not for you,not the second choice.

"You're getting married" Victoria spoke behind you, fixing the veil before placing her hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror.

"Ralph will be so in love" she smiled.

"Do you think she's found a dress yet?" Ralph asked as he straightened his suit in the mirror.

"Not sure, you know how women are with dresses," Lauren replied, fixing her tie.

"Lauren, you are a woman" Jason laughed.

"Fuck off" she huffed.

"No she has a point, she's with my sister, she's probably had a mountain of dresses to try on, especially if my sister brought any of her friends"Ralph told Jason.

"Your sister has friends?" Jason asked, instantly intrigued.

"Down perv" Lauren scolded.

"Yes…Well…I suppose you could call them friends. They are more of the, how do you put it"

"Talk shit about you behind your back?" Lauren fished.

"Yes, except they don't wait til you can't hear" Ralph explained.

"Oof, who needs friends like that?" Horace asked?

"Victoria I suppose" Ralph shrugged

"They've never quite cared for me, so I do hope they aren't taking their displeasure for me out on (y/n)"

"I'm just shocked is all" Florence stated, all of them were whispering but we're still loud enough for you to hear.

"We love you Victoria you know that, but your brother is a bit…" she started.

"Overzealous, hyperactive, easily excitable" Lillian listed.

"Honestly…we thought he was…You know" Florence added. You knew what they were referring to. Simply because Ralph took care of himself and presented himself well they took it as him being a "dandy", it couldn't simply be because that's just who he was.

"My brother can be a bit…Much. But yes they are getting married" Victoria defended.

"Does the poor girl know what she's getting into?" Lillian asked

"He'll follow her around like a puppy dog, she'll have no peace"

"If she didn't know him do you think they would be getting married?" Josephine questioned, at least her and Victoria were on your side.

"I'm just questioning her sanity is all…unless" Florence stopped.

"Unless what?" Victoria asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Unless…she's only after his money"

What?! How dare she think that was what you were after, sure both he and Victoria both spoiled you, and every time you felt bad about it, but you would never be with someone simply for money.

"Florence!" Josephine started, but you cut her off, having come out from behind the curtain.

"You know nothing about me and yet you sit here and call me a gold digger? I wouldn't care if Ralph didn't have a penny to his name, I would still marry him. Why? Because I love him! Yes he can be intense, but that's just how he shows his love, and yes he can be hyper but only when he's passionate. Yes he is like a puppy dog at times but I'm fully ok with that because I adore him, he makes me feel loved and seen for the first time in my life. I'm not like you all are, obviously, I'm not wealthy, or overly beautiful, I've never had men falling at my feet from a simple look. I know this, and yet even if I had all of that, I would trade it all for him. Because honestly…He's everything I ever wanted, but never thought I deserved" you finished, before quickly adding.

"And having good hygiene, and taking care of yourself and your looks doesn't make you gay! I'm sorry that none of the men you have met have cared whether or not they look like shit" and with that you turned and walked towards the counter, leaving a stunned Florence and Lillian, a laughing Josephine, and a smiling Victoria.

"Well ladies, it's been a pleasure as always, I do hope you show up to the wedding" she smiled.

"I wouldn't miss it" Josephine smiled, but Florence and Lillian stayed silent. Victoria nodded and met you at the counter. She quickly paid and grabbed your arm, leading you outside.

"Can I just say," she started as you walked down the street towards home.

"That that little speech was the bravest and nicest thing anyone has ever done for my brother" she smiled.

"I'm sorry I was probably out of line"

"Oh heavens no, no they needed that…and getting to see Florence and Lillian be completely stunned was absolutely perfect" she laughed.

"Was all of it true?" She asked, looking over at you.

"Of course, every word" you answered, causing her to pull you closer.

"Then I am so happy my brother found you"

"There is the love of my life" Ralph said as soon as you stepped through the door, his arms around you as he pulled you to him.

"Ralph we were only gone for a couple of hours" Victoria sighed, taking the dresses upstairs.

"A couple hours is far too long" he told her, you couldn't help but giggle and lean in to kiss him, a kiss he happily accepted before tucking his face into your neck.

"I missed you so much"

"I missed you too Ralphie, my sweet little puppy"

"Puppy?"

"Yeah, it came up today, the comparison…I can see it" he gave such an adorable confused look before simply smiling, leaning back into your neck.

"As long as I'm your puppy" he sighed.

"You are, my sweet puppy"

The following weeks were a flurry of finalizing everything and getting things prepared. You all knew that weddings should have taken months to properly get put together, but you all also knew that you and Ralph didn't necessarily want to wait that long…So a month it was. Everything felt crazy, a whirlwind of events leading up to the big day, but here you are, sitting inside a lavish room trying not to cry and ruin your makeup as Victoria finishes your hair.

"This doesn't feel real," you breathed.

"None of this does" Lauren stated from her seat on the couch, you caught her eyes in the mirror and knew exactly what she meant, and your mind flashed back to the day you had told Ralph everything.

"So it's all real" he breathed, looking at your passport that held your birth date.

"Yes, I know it sounds completely bonkers," you laughed.

"But everything I told you was the truth" you stated, waiting on bated breath for him to speak, it was unusual for Ralph to be this quiet.

"Ralphie?" You asked hesitantly

"It doesn't matter where or even when you came from" he stated while looking over at you.

"I'm just simply glad you came into my life" he smiled.

"I think you're ready dear" Victoria smiled at you through the mirror, you stood, going behind the screen to change into your gown and earning a small gasp from them both when you stepped back out.

"Now the gloves and jewelry" Victoria nodded, blinking back her own tears as she hurried to grab your things. Your eyes met Lauren's and you smiled.

"You look beautiful," she nodded.

"Thank you, and thank you for messaging me that day, all those years ago…if you hadn't, we wouldn't have become friends, I wouldn't have come to visit and….I wouldn't be here right now" you told her, truly grateful for your friendship.

"Yeah you do really owe it all to me huh?" She smirked, causing you to laugh.

"Yes I do"

"Well, my payment is you and Ralph going anywhere else for your honeymoon yeah? I don't need to hear…that" she told you, her face scrunching up in disgust.

"Oh don't worry, they will in fact have a honeymoon spot far, far away from us all" Victoria noted, handing you your gloves to put on before helping you with your veil. You slipped off your engagement ring to put it on over the glove.

"I love you and my brother dearly but I don't exactly want to hear you taking my brother's virginity" she told you, causing Lauren to laugh.

"Ok that's fair" you giggled.

"Though it would be a mutual taking"

"Either way dear…there…now you're ready" she told you, and you turned to look at yourself in the mirror, willing yourself not to cry because this was it…You were getting married.

You met Horace at the main doors, you had asked him to walk you down the aisle as he had been your comfort many times in the past when you became overwhelmed or sad, a request he happily agreed to.

"You look beautiful (y/n)" he smiled

"You look quite dashing yourself" you smiled back and straightened his tie.

"Are you ready?"

"Shockingly…I've never been more ready for something, this is where I'm suppose to be, I know it" you told him, taking his arm and waiting for your que. You heard the music begin, signaling it was time, and with a deep breath, you both entered the room. All eyes landed on you with a gasp, but those eyes weren't the ones you were searching for, the ones you sought out were at the end of the aisle. That beautiful amber gaze, glossed over with tears as he watched you walk towards him, you saw him gasp, and try to calm himself as you neared him, his hand quickly coming up to wipe away the tears. By now you were already shedding a few yourself, and you hope you hadn't messed up your makeup.

"You look so beautiful" he breathed, voice shaking as he took your hand from Horace, smiling at the man.

"You look so handsome" you smiled, taking him in, his black and gold suit nothing less than you expected from him.

"I can't believe I get to marry you" he smiled, another tear falling, one which you quickly wiped away.

"I can't believe it either Ralphie"

"Shall we begin?" The officiant asked, without looking away from each other you both nodded.

"Welcome, loved ones. We are gathered here today to join (y/n) and Ralph in holy matrimony." They said to the crowd while you and Ralph held each other's hands.

"Ralph, we'll start with you, please repeat after me" they spoke, speaking and waiting for Ralph to repeat.

"(Y/n), I promise to cherish you always, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us." He told you, eyes gazing into yours with the most seriousness you had ever seen from him, you knew he meant every word he said.

"(Y/n)" they spoke, and you repeated the words.

"Ralph, I promise to cherish you always, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us" you told him, with just as much seriousness, hoping that he knew your words were true.

"The couple has also prepared poems to read to one another, who would like to start?"

"I would…If that's alright?" Ralph asked, looking at you, you smiled and nodded, already trying to hold back tears again.

"I'm so sure that you're the one, with you I feel life's just begun. I feel it when I touch your skin, I feel it in my heart beating within. I look in your eyes and I know your story, I melt for your voice and it's glory. So many smiles, but I live for yours, you're my magic, my heart soars. I can't lose you, you are she, she who makes my life lovely. She who mends my broken pieces, she who smooths out my creases. I just know it, understand, I feel it when you hold my hand. Your laughter truly saves my life, and I wished one day you'd be my wife. I want to wake up in your hair, tangled up with you in there. When you're sick, I'll hug you tightly, and I'll remind you when we're fighting. That you're my princess, and I love you, that I'll do whatever it takes to keep you. That life goes on, that we are strong. That no matter what it seems, that you and I, we are a team. Just kiss me, make me feel young forever, let's laugh, and dance, and live together. Spend your life with me, it'll be fun, let me show you you're the one.So I swear to you, this is real, I promise you it's what I feel. You make me believe that love is true, I have a soulmate, and she is you." He finished, having to take a moment every now and then while reading to clear his throat and hold back tears, you on the other hand, were openly crying.

"Oh Ralphie" you whispered, and he wished he could lift your veil and wipe away your tears. But he watched you wipe them away yourself, trying to compose yourself so you could read your poem, he also took this moment to wipe his own eyes.

"It's funny, we both wrote soulmate poems" you laughed lightly, earning a giggle from him.

"You came into my life unexpectedly, and everything took a turn for the better. Your warm eyes, your laugh, the sincere way you speak. And the kindness you showed me all became a part of my life. As you unfolded yourself to me, I discovered more and more beauty. I have never seen so much gentleness in one person. Without even knowing it you were slowly making a place for yourself in my heart. It used to seem so hard at times, to feel so close in a relationship. But it's so easy to feel close to you, I can't tell you how nice that feels. I realize now that I had never known what it meant to be loved…until I was loved by you." You told him, your voice shaky and breaking at the end.

"My love" he breathed, reaching under the veil to cup your cheek, wiping away the tears.

"Mine wasn't as long, and it didn't rhyme but" you laughed, causing him to laugh as well, both of you trying to blink away tears.

"Shall we move onto the ring exchange?" The officiant asked, wiping their eyes as well. You could see Jason, Horace and Nick all trying to wipe their eyes and faces, and you knew the two women behind you were probably no better.

"Let's" Ralph nodded, Horace handed him your ring and he repeated the words told to him.

"With this ring I, Ralph, take you, (y/n), to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us." With that he slid the ring onto your finger, resting it against your engagement ring. He lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the rings before looking at you again.

Victoria handed you the ring for him before you repeated as well.

"With this ring I, (y/n), take you, Ralph, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us." And with that you put the ring on him, deciding to mimic him and kiss his ring as well.

"I love you" you smiled.

"I love you more" he smiled back.

"By the power vested in me by the city of London, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss your bride" and with that, Ralph happily and hurriedly lifted your veil and leaned in to capture your lips, sealing your union, a union that you were more than happy about. You held his face as you two continued to kiss, the sounds of the claps and cheers dying out in your ears as you could only focus on him.

"My beautiful wife" he smiled once he pulled away, eyes staring deep into yours.

"My handsome husband" you smiled back, earning a heart stopping smile from him..husband…he would never get tired of hearing that.

The two of you walked back down the aisle hand and hand, officially married, but you knew the night was far from over.

You quickly excused yourself to change, telling Ralph that you'd only be gone for a moment as his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips capturing yours again.

"Don't wanna part" he whined against your lips.

"Finally have you"

"And you'll continue to have me, I just need to change so I don't trip over my dress while dancing" you giggle against his constant kisses.

"I'll hold your dress" he giggled.

"Two seconds, that's all I need" you told him, your back pressed to the door of the room you were in earlier.

"Two seconds" he nodded, lips catching yours again.

"Two seconds" you confirmed, breaking the kiss and quickly running into the room. You got out of your wedding dress as quickly as you could, hanging it back up before quickly getting into your party dress and tap shoes. You came out just in time to see him emerging from a room down the hall, his suit the same but now there was a distinct tapping when he walked.

"Seemed we had the same idea" you smiled, catching his attention and watching as his eyes widened and mouth opened.

"You like?" You asked.

"You are absolutely stunning my love"

"Wanna see the best part?" You asked. Watching as he excitedly nodded. You stepped further into the hallways, watching as his eyes darted to your shoes upon hearing the tapping, his smile growing even bigger.

He watched you twist and show the layers of beads that swung along.

"Absolutely wizard!" He beamed, coming forward to catch your waist in his hands, a blush spreading to his cheeks at his own actions.

"Shall we go show everyone?" You asked, he nodded, though really Ralph wants to keep you all to himself at that moment. You two walk to the reception area, being greeted with more claps and cheers when you walk through the doors. Everyone is already seated and food is being served. You walk up to the main table, taking your seat between Victoria and Ralph, while Horace sits on the other side of Ralph. All of you eat, playful banter being thrown back and forth as you all laugh. You and Ralph go to cut your cake, absolutely marveling at the beautiful masterpiece that Lucile made.

"I don't want to cut it, it's so beautiful" you gasped, but alas you knew you had to, so you did, each of you feeding a piece to the other.

You tossed the bouquet and watched as Victoria caught it and Jason caught the garter, making you and Lauren both bust out laughing. Finally, after everything it was time for the first dance. The two of you came together just as your friends began to play.

"At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song"

You held onto Ralph, just as you had the first time you danced, still not believing this was all happening.

"I can't believe you're mine" he whispered, forehead resting against yours.

"I can't believe you're mine either" you whispered back.

"Ooh yeah, yeah

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you"

"I never thought I would find anyone, I never thought someone could actually…deal with me" he stated, face coming to rest in your neck as he wrapped both arms around you, your own coming up to wrap around his neck.

"I found a dream, that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to rest my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known"

"Oh Ralphie"

"I would never say that I am dealing with you my love. I love you, and I'll show you that everyday" you told him, causing him to untuck himself and look at you.

"I never thought I would find someone either, but I am so thankful to have found you" you smiled, earning a smile from him in return.

"And I'll show you everyday how much I love you in return" he told you, leaning in to capture your lips.

"Ohh yeah yeah

You smile

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine

At last"

After that the party got a bit crazier, everyone was on the dance floor, and with drinks flowing you all partied until the late night hours. You couldn't stop smiling and laughing as you danced with Ralph or Victoria or both. Even you and Josephine danced a few times. But the night slowly died down, everyone thanked you for an amazing time and you thanked them for coming. Giving an extra long hug to Lucile who confessed she bawled while you two got married. She told Ralph that she knew his mother was smiling at the union and that made both you and Ralph begin crying again. Once everyone was gone you and Ralph looked at one another.

"S-Should we head to our h-honeymoon?" he asked, suddenly very shy,and you knew exactly why.

"We do have to consummate the marriage" you smiled shyly, earning a darker blush from him while your own cheeks were tinted lightly.

"Yes we do…after you my beautiful wife" he nodded, holding the door for you.

"Thank you, my beautiful husband" you smiled, leaning in to capture his lips for a moment before walking towards the waiting car.

There it is everyone!! The beautiful wedding, next up is the wedding night 😏

Your cake, invitations, and venue.

Your dresses, his tux, and the rings

Florence, Josephine, and Lillian

The poems you two read

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know.

Taglist

@quirkyquartney , @the-a-word-2214 , @no-mercy-bby , @sav7689 , @vonschweetz , @greeny-kitten , @0x0spunky-monkey0x0 , @ladybug0095 , @takemetoneverland420 , @serotoninenthusiast , @error-home-not-found , @fujiihime , @peachymonsters , @estrellitams , @ellalafrella @fictionlandslanddreams , @emmamooney

@eddiemunson4ever , @drmeghanjones @faffacake , @lancaerielcotume , @blkroyalty1 , @librafilms , @brighteyedbushybrowed , @pl1nfa1 , @lyn-soso , @pinkdaiisies , @screaming-blue-bagel , @ayoitsmickey , @nchl18 , @bxtch-bou , @crazyjenny8675309 , @ietss , @spookybabey , @el-dibidibidorado1 , @maryan028 , @ninaisajunkie , @loliakeoghan23 , @ok-boke , @fanfictionvibes , @frozenhuntress67 , @eddiemunsonsgroupie, @kaitcreatesart , @thewondernanazombie , @ojkamins, @flowexr

#joseph quinn #timewasters #ralph #ralph timewasters #chapter 4 #at last #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fic #ralph is such a cutie!!#ralph x reader #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury #joe quinn #jospeh quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine

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blaqcats-fics · 1 year

Text

(He's) Just a Phase — Part 2

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.3K

March 1989

'I can't do this anymore!'

Steve flinched at the loudness in Eddie's voice. He looked at him, taking in the frown lines on his face and how his eyes nearly glowed in anger.

He had expected this. He had been waiting for the ball to drop eventually. There had been signs over the past month that he had picked up. It was small things that Steve was sure Eddie didn't notice he was doing.

First, it was just something small. It could have always been superficial to Eddie, but to Steve, it had always been something bigger, something more. It was a habit that Eddie had always had, and Steve wasn't sure Eddie knew he had done it.

Steve worked nights most of the time, meaning his schedule was the opposite of Eddie's. It had been hard, but they had made it work. They made sure they received the same days off so that they could spend time with each other. On the long days, Eddie would leave the hall light on when he went to bed before Steve got home.

It again wasn't much, but it was something.

When Steve came home, and the light wasn't on, Steve felt his chest tighten. Something was wrong. He did something wrong. Of course, against his better judgment and not openly communicating with Eddie, Steve kept his mouth closed and moved on.

The next tell was more significant. It gave an indication that Eddie knew what he was doing. It wasn't as superficial because they made sure of it together.

Eddie scheduled his band practice on their day off -- the day they used for date night. But, in true Steve fashion, he kept his mouth shut. So it didn't matter if Steve laid in bed all day, crying to Robin, trying to figure out what he did.

The other things fell into place after that, like ducks in a row, until he ended up facing Eddie's frustration.

'I'm sorry,' Steve mumbled.

Eddie gritted his teeth. 'And what are you sorry for, Steve? Please enlighten me!'

Steve wasn't sure. 'I, uh,' he licked his lips, gaze flickering to anywhere but Eddie's face.

'You don't know!' Eddie snapped.

Steve pursed his lips shut. 'No,' he said.

'That's the problem. You're so absorbed in your own head to not even notice what you're doing!' Eddie laughed. It was a bitter sound, and Steve felt a spear stab through his heart.

'I'm not,' Steve argued weakly. 'I thought we were fine.'

'You thought wrong,' Eddie exclaimed. 'I'm miserable, Steve. I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and realize that world isn't going to eat you alive.'

'What is this about?' Steve asked, his voice rising. He needed clarification. He needed things spelled out for him. He was terrible at reading between the lines, even if he knew he should be better at it.

'It's about you not wanting to be seen with me,' Eddie snapped. 'Or you don't want anyone to know about us. You either tell people were friends or that were fucking roommates. Dustin doesn't even know we're together!'

Steve flinched. 'That's not true,' he said. 'You know I love you-'

'You don't show it very well,' Eddie cut him off.

'Don't give me that!' Steve said, frowning. 'I didn't have my whole life to figure out I was bisexual! I'm sorry that I'm not ready to come out!'

'What do you have to lose, Steve?' Eddie hissed. 'You don't have anyone who would look at you differently! Your parents couldn't give a fuck about you, and everyone else would love you no matter what! What's so fucking scary, Steve? Why is it so hard to let people close to us know?'

Steve swallowed, tears stinging his eyes. Hurt flooded his system. It was a low blow on Eddie's part, mentioning his parents. It wasn't like Eddie was wrong. His parents didn't care about him. They especially didn't care about Steve after discovering all the 'scandalous' things that Steve was involved with. 'I just, um. I'm not ready, Eddie. I don't know what else you want me to say.'

Eddie laughed, 'Fuck, I don't know. That you'll try? That you'll tell at least Dustin! It's like you are ashamed to be with me!'

He was silent.

Eddie wasn't far from the truth.

Steve was ashamed but never of Eddie. There wasn't a fiber in Steve's bones that could ever be ashamed of Eddie. Steve was only ashamed of himself. He didn't know why he was, but every time Steve looked in the mirror, he felt disgusted with himself. He felt as if God would strike him down at any given moment for just enjoying kissing a man.

Nothing had to do with Eddie. Everything just had to do with Steve.

'Not everything has to deal with you, Eddie,' Steve said, voice tense. 'Nothing I've done about hiding my sexuality has to deal with you. I'm not ready. I don't know when I'll ever be ready!'

Eddie stared at Steve, expression unchanging. 'I'm not going to wait anymore.'

Steve felt his stomach drop. 'What does that mean?'

'It means what it means. I'm not going to sit here unhappy. I can't keep waiting for you to be ready,' Eddie said.

'Are you breaking up with me?' Steve asked, his voice shaking.

'I guess I am,' Eddie said.

'But,' Steve began, stumbling over the singular word.

Eddie shook his head. 'It's done. We're done.'

Steve bit his lip and nodded. He looked down at his lap, unmoving. What would he do, promise to try to get him to stay? He wanted to beg him to stay, but Steve knew he shouldn't. Not when any promises he made wouldn't be kept.

'Fucking hell, you have nothing to say, do you?' Eddie shook his head. 'I'm leaving. I'll be back this weekend to get my shit.'

Steve could only watch him walk out of the door.

He didn't move from the spot and wasn't sure how long he had sat there, staring blankly at the don't, trying to understand what had happened.

This wasn't like Nancy.

It was worse.

Because before, Steve had felt something — rage, disappointment, sadness. Right now, at this moment, felt hollow, as if a part of him had been removed.

It was when Eddie was actually gone that Steve called Robin. She moved to Dallas after graduation, and Steve only saw her two weeks out of the year. But, she had stayed Steve’s rock, and Steve in return her’s.

The dial tone echoed in his ear as he leaned against the doorway, staring into his bedroom. Besides the trillion tiny holes left over by the thumbtacks holding Eddie’s countless posters, the walls were empty. The bed had only two pillows, both plaid and ugly, a reminder that Eddie had been the one to hoard an enormous amount of pillows — a reminder that Steve’s favorite pillow had belonged to Eddie.

‘Buckley speaking,’ Robin’s voice filled the silence.

Steve’s lips twitched. ‘Hey, Birdie,’ he greeted.

‘Dingus!’ she cheered. ‘I was wondering when you were going to call.’

Steve pursed his lips, 'Yeah, sorry. It's been a rough week.'

‘Eddie picking up shifts again?’ she asked.

‘Uh, um,’ Steve rubbed his lips together, fighting the tears and tightness in his chest. ‘No,’ he managed to gasp out.

Robin was silent momentarily before her soft voice echoed on the receiver. ‘Stevie, what’s wrong?’

Steve found himself unwinding at the seams at the simple question, a loud, ugly sob choking out of him. ‘He’s gone, Robin. He left!’ he cried, the words rushed out and barely audible.

‘What? What do you mean he left?’ Robin exclaimed loudly in the line.

'We broke up,' Steve cried, his chest heaving as he cried harder. 'I fucked up, Robbie. It's all my fault he's gone!'

'Steve, honey, I need you to try and breathe for me. Focus on something and take a few deep breaths for me. I can't understand you writing now,' Robin instructed on the phone.

He did as she said. He focused on the black alarm clock on his bedside table, staring at the red glowing numbers. He took a deep breath, hiccupping as he breathed out. He did that for a few minutes.

'Better?' Robin asked.

'Mhm,' Steve vocalized. 'Sorry.'

'Babe, don't apologize,' she said. 'Now what happened?'

Steve closed his eyes, gripping the phone cord and using the wire to ground him. 'Eddie and I broke up a few days ago, maybe almost a week ago. Well, he broke up with me,' he mumbled, voice shaky.

'I thought you were good; you guys were happy,' Robin said.

Steve laughed, his voice bitter, 'Yeah, me too. Apparently not.'

'Do you know if he told you why?'

'I fucked up,' Steve said simply, thinking over the words that Eddie told him just a week ago. 'I didn't want to tell anyone we're together because I'm not ready. I've been pulling away, I guess. I don't know. He's upset that I don't want the relationship because I don't want people to know.'

Robin was quiet, 'Do, or well, did you want people to know?'

'Of course, I do, Birdie,' he said, choking on her nickname. 'I would scream that I love him from the top of a mountain for the whole world to hear, but I just-'

'You aren't ready yet,' Robin said.

'I'm not ready.'

Robin let out a soft sigh. ‘Do you need me to fly to Indianapolis?’ she asked.

Steve immediately shot her down, 'You have classes and work, Birdie. I can deal with this on my own. There's not like there's much to deal with.'

'We both know how you can get when you get lost in your head,' Robin said. 'And I'm going to be honest, I understand where Eddie's coming from. I know it's hard to hide something important from those who matter, but it's not fair to you, either. You can't rush someone to just come out. He should know that it's a terrifying feeling.'

Steve hummed. ‘I guess so,’ he mumbled. ‘I wish I could go back in time and be ready or click a fast-forward button.’

'We'll you can't,' Robin said. 'Don't overthink too much, Stevie. You two broke up, and you never know; in a month, you might end up back together.'

Steve pursed his lips. This wasn't the first time he and Eddie fought. It was different. They would take a few hours away from each other and then talk about it before the night ended. The worst fight ended with Eddie staying the night at Gareth's, but he came home, and they had sorted it out.

Eddie was gone this time. There wasn't a trace of him left in the apartment.

‘Do you think he would have stayed if I had told Dustin?’ Steve asked.

‘Maybe,’ Robin said. ‘But how long would that satisfy Eddie until he wanted more people to know?’

Steve sighed, moving to rub the wetness from his under his eyes. 'I don't know,' he whispered. 'Maybe this isn't bad,' Steve mumbled.

'What's that mean?'

'Maybe I need to work on myself. I'm not like you or Eddie. I haven't gone out much. I haven't really learned anything,' he said. He picked at the end of the Corroded Coffin shirt that he still has. It was worn and full of holes. Eddie had made it two years ago when they had moved to Indianapolis in celebration of getting a gig at a local bar. 'I haven't been open to learning new things. Maybe I should just focus on myself,' he whispered. 'Maybe I hadn't been ready for a relationship with Eddie, and I just jumped into it.'

'I think figuring yourself out would be a good thing,' Robin said. 'And don't doubt rushing into your relationship. You and Eddie would love each other, even if a chapter of your relationship ended.'

'So poetic,' Steve joked weakly.

'I'm minoring in English. I need to be,' Robin jabbed back. 'But seriously, Steve, don't do anything you're uncomfortable with. It'll be better if you find a new routine and get used to being alone. Then start broadening your horizons.'

Steve hummed, 'That'll be a start.'

'Maybe get a pet!' Robin suggested. 'You like animals.'

'To an extent,' Steve sighed.

'Oh, maybe you could call Owens,' Robin said, voice brightening. 'You still have his card, don't you?'

Steve glanced at the drawer by the fridge, 'Yeah, of course, I do. So why would I need to call Owens?'

'To, well, I don't know, actually do what he suggested you did a few years ago,' Robin said as if Steve knew what she was talking about.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Steve asked. 'You know I have the memory of a goldfish.'

'Ugh,' Robin groaned. 'You're helpless,' she said. 'Owens suggested that you start seeing a therapist for your PTSD, which I'm assuming you never did.'

Steve shook his head, 'No. Eddie did, though.'

'Either way, he also suggested you get a service animal. They help, you know. They can clock you when you're on the edge of having an attack. Or you can get one for your migraines. Do they have service dogs for migraines? You should be able to ask Owens. You still have them frequently, right? What do you think about your eyesight? Are you still having trouble seeing it? Or it's the strain you put on your eyes that causes migraines. You may need glasses, Dingus,' Robin rambled.

Steve rolled his eyes, 'You're rambling again, Birdie.'

'Sorry,' she said automatically. 'So?'

'So, what?'

'Dear Christ,' Robin scoffed. 'Are you going to talk to Owens or not?'

Steve frowned, 'I probably should.'

'So call him. Start fixing yourself because a knight and shining armor can't help you,' she said. 'Eddie couldn't help you. I can't help you. You have to do this on your own,' she added. 'Of course, you can like to talk to be, but you have to hold yourself accountable and all that jazz.'

'Fine,' he sighed. 'I'll call Owens.'

'Good!' Robin said. 'My sweet child,' she faked sniffing over the phone, 'growing up into a responsible young man.'

'Dear lord,' Steve laughed. 'Alright, Mom. I have to go. I have work in an hour and apparently have to call Owens.'

'Steve,' Robin said, voice serious.

'Yeah?'

'I love you,' she said. 'You'll get through this.'

'Love you too,' he said softly. 'Thanks.'

'Anytime, Dingus.'

'Do you think you would have ever come if your previous partner had never broken up?' Doctor Newman asked gaze focused on Steve as her pen was settled against the clipboard, prepared to write at a moment's notice.

Steve eyed the pen warily, feeling uncomfortable. Therapy was part of what Owens offered him to help treat his PTSD. While Steve didn't want to sit and be interrogated, he was doing this for himself (and Robin; he didn't want to disappoint her).

'Probably not,' Steve said, honesty laced in his voice.

He doubted it would have ever been a thought on his mind if he and Eddie were still together. Steve would have internalized everything like he had always done. Knowing that thought, Steve knew he wouldn't have a chance to change from who he was or the shell of who he thought he was.

'Why do you think you wouldn't have?' the woman asked.

Steve moved his gaze to the clock, staring at the second hand, watching as it made its way around, counting down the seconds of the minute. 'I wouldn't have realized that there was a problem. I probably would have just done what I did before, internalize everything.'

'I see. Did you need to internalize your feelings because you might have thought they made you less of a person?'

He tensed and shifted uncomfortably. 'Maybe. I don't know. I don't think my feelings are all that important. Like, I, uh, I don't know, I just think there's no need to make a big deal of them.'

Doctor Newman glanced down at her clipboard, writing something down. 'Hm.' She looked up at Steve, tapping her pen gently against the board. 'Well, you're feelings are important, and it's always okay to prioritize your feelings, even if you think that makes you selfish. Being selfish is alright, especially when your mental health will thank you. Sometimes we all need a break, and sometimes we all need to just sit somewhere and feel.'

Steve nodded, taking in her words. 'I get that, I do, but I grew up in a house where feelings were something you put on the back burner. Then with the event from '83 to '86, feelings seemed irrelevant when people around me were hurting worse, who deserved and needed the attention or care.'

'So, despite the trauma that had fallen on you, you believed it to be small compared to those around you?'

'I mean, yeah?' Steve said, confused. 'The kids were going through so much. They needed someone to lean on, to be cool and collected. They needed someone safe. That was me. It had to be me. The adults and the others were all trying to sort through their own issues, and mine seemed so small in comparison.'

'But they weren't,' Doctor Newman said. 'All your problems? They are just as important as everyone else's. You can't compare your trauma to someone else's because everyone experiences trauma differently.' She picked a vanilla folder off the table, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. 'Doctor Owens sent me your file,' she said. 'And I have to say that you have gone through a good bit of trauma, specifically with Starcourt.'

Steve licked his lips, mentally wincing at the thought of Starcourt. 'I guess.'

'While the Upside Down -- that's what you called it, correct?' Doctor Newman asked.

He nodded, 'The kids called it that. Something about a rat on a rope or something.'

She nodded, 'Alright. So while the Upside Down and the Russians greatly affected you, I think your trauma might have started earlier. Would you be comfortable telling me about your relationship with your parents?'

Steve glanced at the clock, frowning that not more than ten minutes had passed. He coughed, adjusting in his seat. 'There's not much to say,' he said. 'They weren't around a lot.'

'That's a big vague,' she wrote on her clipboard again. 'What were they like when you were a child, before they started becoming less of a fixture in your life? What were they like when they were home? What about now? What's your relationship like now?'

Steve lifted his hand to his mouth, nibbling on the nail of his thumb. His parents weren't something he wanted to talk about.

'This is a safe space,' Doctor Newman said. 'If you aren't ready to talk about your parents, we don't have to. Not until you're ready.'

'And if I'm not ready?'

'Then you aren't,' she said. 'We have all the time in the world, but I think some of your complications stem from your parents, and I can't help you without you opening up about your childhood. So, we'll return here each week until you're ready to face it.'

‘You make it sound easy,’ he laughed.

‘It’s not,’ Doctor Newman corrected. ‘Sharing something personal, especially when it's difficult to talk about, is far from easy. We don't know each other well, and I assume that even if you were more familiar with me, you still wouldn't find it easy to share your experience with me, and that is okay.’

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn't say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. He licked his lips, glancing back up at the clock, then to his hands, then to Doctor Newman.

‘Uh, my parents,’ he started, before pausing, face pinching together.

‘Take your time,’ Doctor Newman said.

Steve took a deep breath, slouching deep into the chair. ‘Well, I think it started back in ‘76, after I turned 10,’ he began.

NOTE: Thank you guys for reading! I wasn't planning on doing a flash-back chapter, but I might throw them in between present chapters just to give context to what led up to Steve doing what he's doing. Also, if you've noticed, the break-up isn't a super bad one (in the context of why they could have broken up.) I wasn't going to have cheating or anything, but rather something that could be fixed, because I want a happy ending for my boys. Of course, it's worse in Steve's eyes because he just blames himself for stuff. IDK, I thought of doing something worse, but I felt that might be too much.

Also, if you aren't fond of reading fics on Tumblr and prefer the Ao3 formatting, the link to the fic is HERE. Tumblr sees all updates first, and there's a 1-4 hour delay of transfer posting to Ao3. I go through and edit everything. Tumblr is like the RAW/Uncut version, so to speak.

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TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x @phirex22 x @kylobith x @screaming-alone x @poopypantsbennett x @ledleaf x @rhyswritesreadsandcries

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