#completely fucked. neither of the bathroom sinks work.

[whoahoney]

Knocked Up

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Oneshot

Summary: Reader and Eddie planned to never have kids, having dreams of travels and a honeymoon phase that never ends, until one rainy day when Y/n takes a test..

Content Warnings: adult language, adult themes, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, suspected cheating, fluff, Eddie being a baby hog

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Eddie were together for years. They’d graduated, moved in together, gotten jobs, and started a nest egg, also known as the rainy day fund.

They had meticulously planned their life together in order to avoid ending up like their own parents who seemed to fuck up at every turn, not to mention while having kids.

Which is exactly why they decided they wouldn’t have any. It wasn’t a hard decision, neither of them finding themselves to be baby people and hoped to give each other all of the time and attention they hadn’t received in their upbringings, wishing to travel and live a nomadic life.

Though they didn’t end up traveling right away, they knew they had time for it. They’d come a long way from the inseparable couple skipping class to smoke and makeout all those years ago; Eddie landed a job in a nice garage making a steady rate, while Y/n worked as a waitress at a grill downtown. They’d been diligent in putting money back for a rainy day or ‘something really really cool’ as Eddie would say.

And did the rainy day come.

Literally.

One rainy morning in April, Y/n paced nervously in the trailer, a developing pregnancy test in the other room on the bathroom counter. “How fucking long is this supposed to take?” She grumbled to herself, picking up the timer for the thousandth time as it went off. She yelped and fumbled with the knob trying to silence the ringing, tossing it onto the couch as she sprinted into the bathroom.

Her heart hammered as she picked up the test, the two lines reading positive making it cease altogether. “Holy fucking hell.” She breathed, the newly familiar nausea twisting in her stomach and sent to the toilet with a lurch.

Y/n spent the rest of the day hoping to figure out how to tell Eddie what was going on. She’d been ignoring the signs for a month, too afraid to face the music and finally put her mind to rest. The tender breasts, the constant stomach ache, dizziness, and of course the missed period. Eddie had asked her if she’d had her monthly visitor, to which she panicked and said ‘yes.’

She hated herself for lying, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her that her period was late until he asked. Truth be told she never really paid attention to her cycle before and this time it bit her in the ass.

Y/n worried about how Eddie would react; knowing he didn’t have any plans on being a father and how he’d feel about her lying about such a heavy topic. Part of her feared he’d be upset with her, maybe even enough to leave her.

She debated for a while between procrastinating and ripping the bandaid off, not knowing which way would be easier. If Eddie loved her as much as he showed he did, then this should be easy.

She decided to cook him his favorite meal to start, complete with a dessert that was his own grandma’s recipe. Grandma Edna was one of Eddie’s favorite people, her cookie brownies being his favorite because ‘It’s like Dr. Frankenstein decided to combine two desserts. It’s ingenious, the woman is a God.’ She chuckled at the thought while she poured the oil in the pot to fry the chicken.

As the oil heated up, an intense and foul aroma permeated the trailer that sent her stomach churning and her head spinning. Y/n held her t-shirt over her nose to fend off the smell that’s never bothered her before as she checked the coloring of the food and put it back in the oil for longer.

Y/n slumped against the opposite counter, the window over the sink shoved open as wide as it would go. She took deep cleansing breaths and did her best to push through, telling herself she just needed to eat something though nothing sounded safe enough.

At 6:00, like every evening, Eddie came home from work in his grease spotted uniform, calling “Honey, I’m home!” as he entered.

He quickly dropped his lunchbox on the counter with his keys and undid the buttons of his blue garage jumpsuit to strip it off, leaving him in his boxers and a tank top.

“Aw, you’re making fried chicken?! AND mashed potatoes?” His eyes bugged as he struggled to kick the fabric off his foot, carrying the rumple of stains to his lady, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in his arms the best he could without getting her dirty.

Eddie took note of the gradual change over the last month or so, how short she had become in conversation, how she had made excuses about not feeling good, running to the toilet all hours of the day; he really started to worry about her and her mental health, maybe even if her feelings towards him were the problem.

He decided to keep his cool, making sure he was doing his duty by her to give her comfort and space when needed, and only assuming she’s upset with him when she’s explicitly told him so.

He figured today was another hard day, her glum and sullen look on her face evident of her discomfort. “Could you help me get these out? I heard coke and dish soap might help.” He said, showing her the spots in question before tossing it towards the laundry room with an easy smile on his lips, one he probably wasn’t even aware of it was so common with her. “Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll give it my best shot.” She nodded and stirred the fluffy mash on the stove.

“Knew I could count on you.” He said before kissing her cheek on his way past, going to the bathroom to start the shower and let the water heat up. Y/n moved the chicken from the boiling oil to the plate she had prepared for them to rest, turning off the stove and thanking the powers that be she made it through without puking or burning anything.

“What’s you do today? Did you enjoy your day off? Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, her stomach lurching in response. Her feet moved before she could give any warning that she’d come barreling through the four foot by four foot bathroom they shared to puke in the toilet.

“Baby??” He questioned as she heaved the remnants of the saltines she managed to scarf down during the day. She wiped her mouth and tried to brace herself against the toilet to stand though she wobbled.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha, don’t worry.” Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her middle and pulling her to sit with her back up against him.

She leaned back against his warm chest, the linoleum floor cold on her legs. The shower head rained hot water, the steam started to fill the top of the room, and the pitter patter of the water drops thudded against the thick shower curtain in a soothing rhythm as he held her close.

“You need to go to the doctor and figure out what’s wrong with you, I’m done waiting, I can’t do it anymore.” He whispered, his brow crinkled in worry.

Y/n sighed, a sob escaping her lips as she did. Tears began to roll down her cheeks while she tried to gain composure, though it didn’t work. Instead she pressed a hand to her mouth and let the sobs roll over her body.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as she turned her face into his chest, her hot tears falling against him as a realization hit, “Oh! Is it your period again? Already?? Are you hurting? I can get you some midol—“ He tried to stand, to go into the kitchen and grab some pain medication to make it all go away when she reached out to hold his leg with her whole body, another sob escaping her.

“It’s not that, Eddie. I-I don’t wanna tell you—I do! I do wanna tell you, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re gonna be so upset.” She heaved, keeping her hold on his leg as he looked down at her, the confusion and alarm evident in his eyes.

Why did she feel so guilty? What had she kept from him? Had she cheated on him? Was that why she was throwing up for a month?

“Y/n, baby, you’re scaring me. Did something happen? Di-Did you make a mistake?” He said, trying his best to ask the questions flooding his mind without breaking down and crying at the mere thought of what they have being gone.

“I mean.. yeah—Yeah I made a mistake... We made a mistake, actually.” She trailed off, looking at the small heaping trash bin by the toilet. Eddie blanched and sunk back to the floor with her, still unsure as to what she meant when she started digging through an abnormal amount of toilet paper on top of the trash.

Before he could ask her what she was doing, she turned to join him by the tub and handed him a closed pregnancy text box. Eddie looked at it and then to her and cocked his head. “Open it.” She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Eddie popped the top open and dumped the two sticks onto the floor between them, flipping them over so he could see the result window with two bright pink lines. “What does that mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice cracking when he reached just barely above a whisper.

Y/n took some shallow breaths as her body and face went numb with fear. “I’m so sorry, Eddie..” She mumbled, picking at her chipped black fingernail polish, still left over from the last time Eddie painted them for her.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” He asked, his eyes filled with both horror and wonder. “What do you mean, what— I'm pregnant—”

“Is it mine?? I’m asking if I’m—Did you—Y’know, I know shit happens, I know sometimes people hurt the people they love, sometimes mistakes happen—“ He rambled in a panic, his eyes wide and a couple tears escaping from the corners.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, “Eddie, of course it is! There’s nobody else it could possibly be, I haven’t slept with anyone else in, what? Almost.. 6 years, now?”

She quickly counted the numbers on her fingers absentmindedly as Eddie threw his arms around her and laid her down on the floor, holding her to his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart started hammering for reasons completely different than before. He couldn’t help the smile that refused to leave his lips, and the tears slipping from the corners of his eyes couldn’t be helped.

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?” She asked with an almost quivering voice. Eddie shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no, just—you’ve been.. weird for a few weeks now and I thought I’d let you come to me since I was constantly asking what was on your mind, I figured if you were upset with me you’d tell me, you know? But then… you said something about a mistake, a-and the worst thing my mind could come up with with was you cheating but then the tests said you’re pregnant and-and you seemed so upset I couldn’t help but think—“

“Aw, honey, no.” Y/n cooed, her hand stroking Eddie’s cheek lovingly as she shook her head in earnest. Eddie’s cheeks shined with tears as he leaned his face into her soft hand. “I was upset because we’ve always said we didn’t want kids, Ed, we have plans! We can’t live with a baby on the road, we can’t see the world, there’s barely even wheelchair access anywhere, how are we supposed to lug a baby and stroller around the House of Blues?? And I lied about my period and.. I was so scared you’d be angry. Maybe angry enough you wouldn’t wanna—“

“Y/n.” Eddie said sternly, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes to his. “I know I said I don’t want kids, I know this deviates from the plan, but I’m not angry. I’ll take this over you cheating on me any day!” He tried to make her smile, which he did with little success.

“Nothing could make me hate you, Y/n, you’re the best person I know and I somehow tricked you into falling in love with me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.” He tried again, being met with her real smile spreading wide across her face to his delight. “And if there’s anyone I want to try to raise a kid with, it’s you… I really think we could do a good job together—and it’s not like we’re alone anymore! We’ll always have Wayne and the rest of our chosen family.. and I hope you know I’d never leave our family.”

And when he said it, it became real.

Our family.

“Our family?” She whispered, like a safety blanket was draped around her shoulders to make everything feel safe and okay. “Yeah, baby, you are my family, you always have been. And now we’re gonna be a real family, with a baby and everything!” He smiled and touched his nose to hers, gently cupping her cheeks in his hands and stroking her skin.

“I love you, Eddie.” She said in a whisper against his lips before kissing him deeply. “I love you too, baby. Forever and ever and the rest of time.” He declared as he flipped them over for her to sit on top of his lap this time. Their lips were warm and soft working against each other, the sweet taste of his saliva trickling into her mouth as they kissed. Eddie ended with a handful of kisses sprinkled across her face, their tears dry and smiles lingering.

“C’mon, mama, get in the shower with me and I’ll wash your hair.” He sat up and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the offer earning him a forehead kiss.

“Already calling me mama, huh?” She teased as she tried to stand without him, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder before she could. She shot him an inquisitive look as he stood, holding his hand out for her.

“What? I need to make sure my lady always has help, even more so now!” He pointed out as he checked the water temperature again

Y/n giggled at his protective instincts as he began undressing. “We definitely gotta get out of here before Ozzy slash Axel comes.” He mentioned casually as he tossed his pants into the hall.

“Ozzy slash Axel? And what if it’s a girl?” She asked incredulously.

“Ozzy’s the girl’s name! You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be badass.” He said as he stripped off his tank top, revealing his pale torso as Y/n shamelessly ogled him, “We’ll see about that, daddy.” She teased, slipping off her shirt and shorts from the day.

Eddie chuckled at the nickname, “I don’t think I’ll get used to that.” He scoffed.

“Is it different than you calling me mama?” She smarted with her arms crossed.

Eddie turned back to her with amused wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. It’s completely different now. I’m not just your daddy anymore, I’m someone’s actual daddy now. Or at least I will be.” He glanced down at Y/n’s middle as she lifted her shirt.

She tried not to look at Eddie after she noticed her rounded lower stomach, something she assumed was just bloat until today. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that, either...” He chuckled, not hiding his gaze at her abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m like two seconds pregnant, quit looking at me like that.” She mumbled with pink cheeks as she rid herself her underwear and stepped under the water with his help.

“I know, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t already look different. You said it’s been more than a month now, right? Your body’s already building a home, isn’t that amazing?” He asked as he joined her, kneeling in front of her naked body as he had a million times before, except this time his focus was slightly shifted north.

He held her hips in both hands, studying the front of her in a new way, turning her side to side as if he were inspecting her like she was the first of her kind. He couldn’t help his smile or the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. “Y’know when I met you I thought the idea of a nuclear family was hell?” He asked as he stood, looking down at her while he moved all of her hair behind her ears and shoulders.

Y/n shrugged, “I, mean, yeah, still is.”

He smiled and tilted her chin up, her hair meeting the stream of water as he did, getting her hair all nice and warm and wet for him. “Yeah, well, as stubborn as I am, you were able to change that pretty quick.” He sighed, squeezing some soap into his palms. Y/n gasped softly, tilting her chin back down to meet his eye as he turned her by her shoulders to wash her hair.

“Yeah, I know, so soft and gross, ew.” He joked, smirking when he saw her shoulders bouncing with a chuckle. “But it’s true. You’re just—you’re so good.. at taking care of me, at being a person, at being a friend, you’re good. Great, even.. the best.” He whispered, massaging his fingers into her scalp and working the soap into a lather.

“Truth be told, I’ve been holding back on telling you because I knew you didn’t want kids and I wanted to respect that. Cause either way, baby, I’m happy with you, and I’m not making you have any baby you don’t wanna have.. so if this isn’t something you want, that is okay with me, truly.” He stopped his movements and held his hands on her shoulders to speak next to her ear.

Y/n turned to him again, her eyes wrought with longing. “Eddie, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But you’ll be even more happy to know I want this. Through and through.” She nodded in finality, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he brought her in for a tight hug.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you guys.” He mumbled into her shoulder, more to himself than to her.

After that, Eddie spent his spare time taking on odd jobs to make extra cash to add to the ‘rainy day fund’ which was quickly changed to ‘the baby fund’, while Y/n contributed half of her tips. The couple was satisfied with their growing chunk of money, the feeling of being real adults swelling their hearts with pride for themselves and one another.

They’d stay up late at night talking about the what ifs and the scenarios of late nights and early mornings and potty training and tying shoes.

Somewhere in there they got around to the deeper parts of their childhoods and dissected the uncomfortable and painful parts, figuring out where their parents went wrong and what they’ll do differently, some nights ending in an embrace and tears at the stories traded and relived.

One night, Eddie laid with his head on her chest, tracing shapes into the smooth skin of her hard and prominent bump as they watched Family Feud before bed. Like a ball rolling under a blanket, Eddie saw the skin of Y/n’s belly move as the baby punched or kicked a foot, sending their mother groaning and their father yelling.

“What the fuck!!” He exclaimed, jumping back in horror. Y/n laughed and held her stomach until the baby got comfortable. “They’re moving, that’s all. You finally caught them in action, I told you they’re strong! That felt like a fist or an elbow, I’m not quite sure.” She said looking back down at her now lopsided belly from where the baby rolled over to another side.

“Come look.” She whispered to keep from disturbing the sleeping fetus. Eddie craned his neck over to see what she was looking at. “Oh my god, babies are so weird.” He said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Should I, like, push him back over?” He asked, resting his hand on the bulging side of the bump as she giggled profusely. “Eddie, no! They’ll move in a minute. Why do you think it’s a boy anyway??” She swatted his hand off her stomach as she took her turn laying on his chest to read the survey board on the tv.

“That kid is too ornery to be a girl, trust me. The grief he’s giving you right now is classic Munson boy behavior, and I’ll go ahead and apologize for how down bad you’re about to be for his brown eyes.” He batted his lashes at her as she turned to look at him in disbelief.

“You’re gonna eat those words, Munson, just you wait.

And when the rainy winter day came, Eddie’s words reigned true.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. Y/n’s hair stuck to her face as she fought to catch her breath while the nurses prepared the baby to get his umbilical cord cut. “Alright, dad, just make a cut right here,” the doctor instructed as a nurse set their baby boy on his mother’s chest, Y/n’s body wracked with sobs as Eddie watched the scene happen around him and back to the scissors and clamps before him.

“ ‘S not gonna hurt them is it?” He asked quietly. The doctor laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no, I assure you your wife and son will be just fine.”

‘My wife and son’

Eddie breathed a laugh, the color returning to his face after the last hour of Y/n’s labor had his soul close to leaving his body. He accepted the scissors and made a cautious snip, his eyes jerking over to the dark haired baby on his loves chest, relieved when he saw neither of them batted an eyelash.

The nurses took the baby for his measurements, announcing he was seven pounds and one ounce, nineteen inches long, born at 4:20 in the morning to which Eddie snickered as he held his girl’s hand and stroked her knuckles lovingly.

Eddie brushed the hair back from her forehead as the nurses cleaned the area and swaddled the baby, now clean from the bodily fluids he had spent his time growing in like a butterfly in a chrysalis.

“You did so good, baby,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, his eyes feeling leaky now that he got to really talk to her for the first time since active labor started. “I’m so proud of you. You, like, hulked out there at the end. It was crazy! And seven pounds?? That’s literally a bowling ball, you know?” He rambled in amazement as the nurse handed Y/n a blue bundle.

“Lemme look at that face,” he whispered, craning his head to get a look at the baby he waited to meet for so so long.

And there he was. Full little lips, his tongue poking out between them as he wriggled, his button nose wrinkling as he fussed, his face scrunched in frustration.

“C-Can I hold him? After you, of course, whenever you’re ready—“

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready, here, take him.” She smiled, holding out the bundle, too tired to keep her arms up and eager to see the way he looked holding their baby they feared having. Eddie quickly accepted the baby from her arms, taking care to hold his neck and feeling startled at how light he felt in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, running his index finger down the center line of his forehead, his eyes opening for the first time to reveal shining dark eyes, almost black.

“What is it? He got six fingers or something??” Y/n asked in a panicked daze. Eddie chuckled without taking his eyes off his son, his eyes prickling with tears.

“Nothing—he, uh, he just—he’s the prettiest person I think I’ve ever seen.. and he has brown eyes, I think.” He said quietly, finally looking up at the mother of his child.

“Lemme see!” She whispered excitedly. Eddie stepped over to the chair next to the bed as the nurses left.

The baby looked rather unimpressed between the two of them, their faces permanently etched in awe as they stared at his open eyes. “He’s looking right through us.” Eddie whispered.

“He can’t even see us, yet.” Y/n giggled, tracing her baby son’s face with her pointer finger, stopping to squish his cheek lightly. “It’s all blurry for him right now.” She mentioned, the baby’s eyes relaxing into the hospital lighting a little more and blinking away discomfort.

“So, what’s his name?” Eddie asked, pushing the front of his little hat off his head to stroke his thick curls that swirled against his scalp. Y/n hummed, sitting in silence until she looked over at their bag, his latest fantasy novel, just visible under a hoodie.

Eddie had been inseparable from the book every night before bed, sometimes reading the extra cool parts to Y/n, who loved to hear the adventures of the band of rogues that called themselves the Realm Riders.

“What about Ryder?” Y/n said.

Eddie’s ears perked at that, “Ryder Wayne?” He asked with a growing smile. Y/n giggled, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I love it! It sounds like he’s a knight or-or-or a cowboy, or something!” Eddie nudged her arm with gentle excitement.

Her cheeks warmed with her smile, “The noblest of his countrymen just like his dadd—“

Eddie cut her off by pushing his lips onto hers, their first kiss shared as parents. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie. You’re gonna be such a good dad to him, you know that right?” Y/n whispered, their foreheads pressed together as the baby settled into a slumber. Eddie swallowed hard and nodded his head reverently.

“You’re thoughtful and kind and loving and strong, you are going to set such a good example and-and we’re gonna give him such a happy home to grow up in. And he’s gonna know how much his parents love each other, and him, always, okay? He’ll have everything we didn’t..” Y/n whispered.

Eddie smiled, the tears rolling down his cheeks at the overload of affirmation and praise. “I swear to it..” he mumbled, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, “ I-I never thought I’d feel this way... I didn’t think it was real.. y’know, feeling like a real family. And now we are. Because of you.” He beamed at her with tears spilling over his eyes. “I hope you know I plan on marrying you the moment I can afford a ring to go on that precious little finger of yours.” He mumbled.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “You mean you already wanna promote me from baby mama?” She sniffled through the joke, his goofy smile stretching across his face.

“Absolutely. The best baby mama I have should share our last name.” Eddie remarked back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Unless you want us to take your last name! I can do that. I’m cool with not being a Munson anymore, it might be good for me—“

“No, no, no, Eddie I wanna be the Munsons.. We’ll put it on a mailbox or something for the whole world to see, everyone in Hawkins will know we’re your family.” She smiled as his smile returned to his face again.

“My family...” Eddie smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief at the words coming from his mouth.

When they arrived home, their friends were crammed in the tin can of a trailer home with a blue banner held up by Robin and Uncle Wayne that read ‘Welcome Home, Baby Munson!’

From the outside of the door they could hear the scuffle and bickering of the friends trying to get in place quietly. Eddie held his love’s arm to help her walk, his son in the baby carrier in his other. The two looked to each other and snickered, “Let’s give them a few more seconds, huh?” He asked, his soft stare flitting over her face.

She nodded, turning back to the door, the curtains jerking closed as she did so. “I think they know we’re here.” She whispered, nodding to the window as she eased forward to the wobbly porch steps.

Eddie held his hand up behind her back as she clutched the equally as trusting rail as she climbed. The door opened before she could turn the handle, the crowd shouting, “Surprise!” as they entered their home.

Y/n smiled, looking at Eddie as he greeted his family. Steve wrapped him up in a firm hug, quickly pulling away to kneel and peek at the fussy baby in the carrier. Dustin led the hoard of Hellfire members all chattering and asking wild questions:

“Was there a lot of blood?” “Did you watch?” “Did you cut the cord?” “Did they let you keep any?” “What is the baby?” “What’s its name?” “How do you know they didn’t switch it?” “Did you guys get matching bracelets?” “Does this mean you’re married now?”

Eddie tried to keep up with the questions as they all flew around him, his eyes searching for his partner as they were separated in the chaos. He noticed Robin helping her to the bathroom when he spotted Wayne, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at Eddie to come to him; the same way he’d done the boy’s whole life.

Eddie’s legs began moving before he told Dustin he’d tell him the whole story later. The baby in the carrier grunted, ready to be held or irritated by the noise.

“Why don’t we Munson men take a minute, huh?” Wayne patted his boy’s shoulder fondly, Eddie nodding with quiet eagerness.

Eddie led his uncle to their bedroom, setting the baby carrier on the bed before pushing the visor back to reveal the sweetest set of brown eyes that resembled a baby Wayne once knew long ago.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie started as he unbuckled the small seat belt from his son’s delicate chest, his little hands coming up to rest in front of his face as he pouted. “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Ryder Wayne.” He finished as he adjusted his baby in his arms, the baby fully awake and blinking, his eyes Looking from Eddie to his grandpa.

Eddie finally looked back up at Wayne, who was having trouble keeping his breath steady. His eyes prickled with tears as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded.

“You just really had to make a grown man cry, didn’t you, Ed?” He asked as a couple tears slipped from the corner of his eye. “C-Can I hold ‘em?” He asked his nephew quietly. Eddie’s eyes lit up immediately as he nodded, handing the bundle over to his uncle. The two men sniffled in silence, their eyes unmoving from the baby between them.

“Y’know, over the years I had my worries; that you’d run off, or end up with the wrong folks, that you’d get discouraged and quit school—or worse… Your little ideas have given my heart quite the jump start since I’ve had you, kid, but this one.. well.. this one might just be the best scare you’ve ever given me.” He chuckled as the tears ran more freely, looking over to his grown boy again to see matching tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

The two laughed and held each other close, admiring the sweet boy between them until Y/n opened the door quietly.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt—“

“Nonsense! Get on in here, darlin’, I’s just meeting my grandson.” Wayne said with pride, beaming down at the boy in his arms. Y/n took her place under Eddie’s arm until the baby scrunched his face up in a cry.

“Aww, there he goes.” Wayne chuckled easily before handing the baby to his mother.

“I bet it’s time for another bottle.” Y/n said in thought then looked at Eddie, who checked his watch before nodding at her.

“Yeah, it’s been two hours, he’s a hungry little dude.”

“I guess it’s time to get out here, huh?” Y/n asked Ryder as if he’d have a response. The three of them reentered the living room, the party noticing almost immediately.

“So it is a boy?! Max was just messing with us?!” Dustin asked as the boys looked amongst each other, Will dragging his palm down his face in annoyed amusement while Max and El snickered quietly.

Y/n and Eddie chuckled, the new father making up a bottle of formula while Y/n took a seat on the couch in between Robin and Steve.

“Ah, that is correct, young Henderson. Hellfire Club now has a rightful heir.” Eddie approached Y/n, who expected him to give her the bottle but instead he held out his arms, making grabby hands at his baby.

Y/n handed him over without hesitation, the baby’s fusses silenced as soon as the bottle was in his mouth. “Ladies and gents, I’m honored to present to you, the first of many Munson babies, Ryder Wayne.”

The crowd went wild as the grumpy little guy scowled in response, giving his best side eye before closing them and trying to fall asleep.

“The first of many?” Y/n scoffed, “Where did that come from.”

“Look at his precious face and tell me you won’t have any more.” He grinned proudly down at his son, not even having to look at his girlfriend to know he was right.

Everyone wanted their picture taken holding the baby, especially the Hellfire Club. “It’s our turn next, Harrington, wrap it up.” Gareth teased, his arms across his chest as he impatiently waited for his turn to hold his best friend’s baby.

“I can’t wait to have a baby,” Dustin mentioned as the club gathered around the couch, Eddie and Steve’s faces snapping to the boy immediately and shouting, “Yes you can!”

The girls wanted pictures with both Eddie and Y/n, and of course Wayne needed a couple with ‘his boys’, calling Y/n back into the frame after she set Ryder gently into his arms.

“Whoa there, Missy, you’re a Munson now, get on in here.” He urged through his drawl. Her cheeks burned as she scampered back up next to Eddie, his arm wrapping around her proudly as they smiled.

“Now let’s get one of the new parents and their baby!” Jonathon suggested, peeking out from behind the camera as Nancy gathered the Polaroids and laid them on the counter to develop properly.

Wayne grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder before stepping out of the frame. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from his permanent soft smile, his eyes beaming at the mother of his child as she looked down at Ryder between them.

“That’s perfect! Don’t move.” Jonathon urged before snapping the photo, which would hang on the wall until they had grandchildren to show it to.

Later that evening, when all the friends left with promises of returning soon, Wayne lingered behind, waiting for the perfect time to talk to Eddie alone.

“Alright, gentlemen, as much fun as this is, I have to go lay down.” Y/n yawned, patting Wayne on the shoulder, planting a kiss on Eddie’s head, and bending down to take the baby, but not before Eddie could turn away from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in feigned offense.

“Uh, taking him to bed?” She asked.

“No, no, no, you just gave birth, I’m on baby duty until you’re rested. Go! Shoo! I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.” He urged, using his free hand to swat at her playfully until she was gone from the room.

A lingering smile stayed on his lips as the men chuckled together. “I, uh, been waiting to give this to ‘ya,” Wayne started as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

Eddie shook his head immediately, “No, Wayne, uh-uh, no way, we aren’t taking your mon—“

Wayne opened his billfold and pulled out a single gold ring, an emerald in the center of the setting. Eddie’s jaw dropped, only remembering that ring from his childhood. “Is that—“

“Grandma Edna’s wedding ring? Yeah. It is.” Wayne chuckled quietly before sighing and handing it to his boy, closing his fingers around it and nodding, more to himself than to Eddie.

Eddie looked at Wayne with wide eyes, a ring in one hand, a baby in the other, his life feeling surreal in this moment. He shook his head at his uncle in disbelief, Wayne nodding back at him, “Yeah, it’s really happening, son.”

Eddie nodded, tears welling up in his eyes for the hundredth time in the last 24 hours.

“I never imagined—not even in my wildest dreams—“ Eddie hiccuped through the brewing tears.

“I know, son, I know.” Wayne said, the grown boy laying his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he’d done many times before, letting a couple tears loose while he inhaled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil lingering on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—Absolutely everything.” The metal head urged into the old man’s shoulder, his baby boy sleeping soundly between them as the only father he’d ever truly known patted his back soothingly.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat… you’re my boy.” Wayne mentioned through a tight smile, his life feeling surreal, too.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n

[izvmimi]

cw: fem!reader. minors dni. part of enemies to lovers au. reader is leads spokesperson for and president of an organization that calls for hero society reform. a/n: i'll probably be releasing a few parts to this and this is actually a follow-up with permission to an idea work-shopped with a lovely friend. first part here.

Your first night together doesn’t end up being hasty, heated and heavy in the stall of an overly luxurious convention center bathroom, but in a similarly over-the-top hotel room, the type that swears it’s not a love hotel but doesn’t separate the shower and the bedroom and has too many towels, and even more places to rest your body when you fuck nasty for hours. 

And Deku takes complete advantage of that. By the time the night is over and you’ve regained your senses, your core and everything below feels like jelly and your heart pounds in your chest, but over time, growing up with the unforgiving camera and the sting of negative online opinion, your poker face is immaculate. You’d hoped that Izuku was the type to fuck and fall asleep immediately, but he’s still awake, staring at the ceiling with a smug smile on his face, and you feel as though you should gloat somehow, just to knock him down a peg, but you know your voice will come out raspy and breathless.

He’s doing something with his hands, and you’re not sure what. Fidgeting. This is the time that either of you should leave the bed and go get a smoke, but neither of you smoke, and neither of you really want to leave this bed. You turn and pretend there’s something important for you to check on your phone; when you shift, you see that he’s rested on his side now, watching you with an amused expression on his face, waiting for you to speak, his head propped up by his elbow. The way his skin glows with a thin layer of sweat, and soft red underlies the smattering of freckles on his face, makes your stomach turn again. You see too much of him for the first time tonight, all broad muscles and scars and smiles, careful, gentle hands and wanting mouth. You know that you hate him, hate everything he represents, but it’s hard to quantify that when you’re still damp between the legs.

You have to regain power somehow, you tell yourself. 

“What are you looking at?” you ask. Immature and snarky, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t matter. He smiles. 

“You.”

You scoff but his grin is steadfast. It annoys you. You look at your phone again as if someone could have possibly sent a pressing email at 3 am in the morning. He’s still watching you carefully and you feel analyzed from your toes to your nose.

“You’re not the best I’ve ever had, but I have to give it to you, the pro hero body is at least good for something.” You reply.

He blinks, and you hope he takes offense, but instead an arm pulls you closer. He breathes deep and part of his exhale tickles your face. Your body tenses and you suppress a whimper.

“I still have time.”

Your head spins for a moment but you think quickly. Pulling back just a slight bit - he lets you, easily - you steel yourself again. Perhaps you should leave, even if it’s late, although there’s nothing you want more than to be rendered breathless again. 

“I think that’s enough,” you reply. Your pulse stabilizes, and you resume your mask of stubborness. “Momentary lapse of judgment, not saying I regret it though.”

With that you make your way out of bed, suppressing the urge to wrap your body in blankets so he can’t ogle you anymore, trying not to look at his perfect body bare and lose the resolve to walk confidently out of the front door. 

He sits up, crossing his legs and arms over his chest. A quiet moment passes as your footsteps pad towards the bathroom sink. The water turns on, and then he speaks again.

“You sprayed perfume on your ankles.”

You turn, confused, spotting him again, his gaze dark from your vantage point. He runs his hands through tousled curls and you remember why so many horny netizens bomb your social media, any time you mention the Symbol of Peace in an interview.

“Your point?”

“Your lingerie is expensive and the set matches,” he adds, eyeing remnants of lace strewn on the ground. You follow his gaze, your cheeks burning. 

“Maybe I enjoy the finer things in life?” you reply, lower lip wobbling and you bite your lip quickly, embarrassed. His eyes narrow and his lips curl into a smile. Devilish, unlike anything you’ve seen on television before. Before he says the next thing, you can tell he’s already pinned you again in this quick battle of words.

“Like me.”

Checkmate.

You can’t think quickly enough, instead retreating to turn on the shower, hoping it’s as loud as possible. Drowning him out, drowning yourself out, drowning this moment out of existence.

It won’t happen again.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

[imaginedanvrs]

my demon gave me everything

part 3 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, teasing, degrading, established kidnapping, burns, abuse, power dynamics

You had never hooked up with anyone before, but from what you had learnt from sitcoms, there was usually some kind of big moment of regret when the character woke up the next morning. Maybe they realised they’d fucked someone they knew, or said something stupid while drunk, or do something they could never expect to find themselves doing. Well for you, the latter certainly applied - just not as fast as it did on TV.

  Waking up to Natasha’s arms slung across you was…homely. It was warm and gentle and tender and felt like everything you had imagined waking up to someone felt like. You wanted to stay there forever, willing the universe not to burden me with having to go to work. It was then that everything came back to you, along with the pain. 

  You tried to pry the spy’s hands off of you but her grip grew stronger the more you attempted to shimmy out of her hold, as though you were entrapped in quicksand. “Quit moving so much,” came Natasha’s rough voice, sleepy but still alert. Neither of you moved for a long few minutes until she dragged you closer to her and kissed your neck. “Good morning,” she muttered against you. Your hairs stood on end. 

  You didn’t reply, too busy trying to ignore the burning along your neck, stomach and thighs as you replayed the events of the night and questioned what the hell you were thinking. Well, you were clearly letting your body do all of it for you but why it had acted as it did you had no idea. Natasha’s hand wandered underneath your shirt to your breasts and you grabbed her wrist to pry it off, pissing the redhead off by doing so. The wrist you had tried to grab was holding yours with bruising force in under a second.

  “Don’t be a bitch,” Natasha warned before quite literally kicking you out of bed. You fell with a thud and looked back at the redhead with wide eyes. “Go shower,” she instructed as she moved around behind you. You turned around to see her getting out of bed too and stopped to stare back at you.

  “No,” you said, trying to appear as confident as you could when looking her in the eye. “You had your fun, now let me go,” you demanded, clenching your hands into fists as your breathing grew heavy. “I need to get my wounds sorted,” you continued as your eyes flicked to the scarlet sheets. Natasha had an unreadable expression as she stared at you, until it turned into an arrogant smirk.

  “You seemed to have your fun too,” she quipped, ignoring your second statement. You wanted so badly to slap her.

  “Fuck you,” you spat. Her smirk dropped. “This is kidnapping,” she huffed and rolled her eyes, walking around the outside of the bed and towards her wardrobe, completely unbothered by you.

  “Don’t be dramatic,” she said without looking at you, like you were a new pet she was training not to whine. You were too stunned to reply, instead trying subtly to shift your weight from leg to leg in an effort to shift the extra ton on your chest. “And work on your poker face, detka. You’re not fooling anyone with that scared puppy look.” The spy continued as she laid out two outfits on the bed and nodded her head towards the bathroom. 

  Feeling defeated and embarrassed, you headed for the bathroom without another word. You ran the tap to brush your teeth on autopilot but once you tried to steal a glance in the mirror to keep your eyes on the Avenger the brush went clattering into the sink as you took yourself in. Cuts and bruises everywhere. Dark fingerprints were littered across your arms, thighs, chest and, the most angry one, neck, accompanied by a scarlet stripe in the middle surrounded by smaller mirrored on my chest. The mark of Natasha was everywhere, and they were deep.

  The shower had more than enough room for you and ten others, yet you kept close to the corner with a small ledge to sit on. You didn’t turn around when Natasha’s bare front pressed against your back, trying your hardest to ignore her and hoped she would grow bored. Instead, she traced her fingertips across the tattoos on your arms with a hum while you continued to wash yourself. “They’re cute,” she commented. You didn’t reply. “Do you want any more?” Natasha queeried out of genuine curiosity as she continued to feel across the rest of your body. “Maybe here?” She continued, placing her hand on your hip. “Or up here?” Her hand ran across your chest. 

  You gave no response, giving your attention to the sole task of rinsing yourself of the night before. However, the spy knew if she pushed enough of your buttons she would hit the right one and she had all the patience she needed to do it. Her hand continued up to your neck and your whole body tensed. She grinned. “I would just love to give you some new ink here,” she said with a testing squeeze, threatening to reopen the cuts she had made less than eight hours prior. “Although I suppose you’re marked enough for the time being,” she hummed as she admired the blemishes she had imprinted. 

  You still didn’t respond as she retraced all of the marks she had taken such time in creating, as though she was admiring an art piece she had recently perfected. “You were so good for me last night,” she cooed as her hand fell to your hip and you  became all too aware of the feel of her breasts against you. “You took it all so well,” she continued, making you recall the images you were trying to suppress in shame. “And you loved every second,” Natasha added, just to add some salt to the wound. 

  “I didn’t,” you attempted to protest but the spy shushed you with a kiss. You didn’t have the energy to push away, so you also didn’t kiss back. Natasha didn’t like that and grabbed your jaw with enough force to make you part your lips for her to slip her tongue in. Her hand gripped your thigh in unison and this time, you really didn’t want it. You frowned and tried to move away but her hold stayed firm. 

  “You did,” Natasha insisted between kisses and dragged her nails up your thighs just as she did last night. You didn’t shiver. You didn’t react. You stayed still, trying to process the turmoil of it all. You hadn’t wanted it last night but then you had? But now you didn’t want it again but you really didn’t? You didn’t understand. It was all so new and you didn’t know what to make of your feelings or the situation they found themselves applying to. 

  The spy’s invasive fingers soon found themselves between your legs but stopped short. Natasha breathed steadily against your neck and crooked her own to look at your confused yet entirely unresponsive features. She then gave you a small kiss to the corner of your lips and pried herself off of you and out of the shower, leaving you standing there alone.

It was only once your fingers became wrinkled that you were able to tear yourself away from the soothing shower. Natasha was sitting on the balcony, half submerged in a plume of smoke from her cigarette. You didn’t take her for a smoker but wasn’t that shocked given how much of her character you, along with the rest of the world, had misunderstood. 

  On the bed was a thin navy blue sweatshirt that looked as though it would hang low like the shirt you had woken up in the day prior, a pair of plain white underwear, and some loose shorts that wouldn’t show under the sweatshirt. You slipped the outfit on without being tempted to look in Natasha’s wardrobe and hesitantly made your way to the balcony where the door was slightly ajar. 

  It was pleasant outside, a breezy summer midmorning to wake up the city before it grew warmer as the day went by. The spy was sitting close to the railing with a watchful eye over the city, not acknowledging your presence. She didn’t have to. You both knew you knew she knew you were there. 

  Though there was a table for Natasha’s ashtray, there wasn’t another chair for you to sit on so you stood awkwardly by the door for several minutes before moving close, still without being openly acknowledged, until you placed your hands on the railing and looked out at the city too. You felt Natasha’s gaze shift to you once you did and you wondered if she thought you were going to try and jump over. You wondered if you should. 

  You glanced down directly below to the busy street just outside the building. You had no idea how far up you were but you reckoned it was high enough that you would die before impact. Would it be on the news? Would it be investigated? Probably not, right? You weren't sure if Natasha was the only Avenger to be… corrupt, but you were sure that even if she was and the rest were as pure as they appeared, S.H.I.E.L.D and whatever higher powers would continue to protect her. 

  You looked towards Natasha, locking eyes with her interested ones as she took a drag. She would never let you jump. The assassin’s eyes stayed glued to yours, adamant on not looking away first. Those eyes were just as piercing and impossible to read as they were the day before now that the numbness you experienced that morning had faded and your wariness was back. You returned your gaze to the city and felt her do the same. 

  “What am I here to do?” You asked bluntly, still not understanding your role. “You said I’m here because you brought me home but…what is it you’re expecting me to do?” You turned to face her at the last word, hoping she would recognise how lost you were and having no idea that Natasha had seen that look countless times before. 

  “Come here,” was all she answered as she put a cigarette out and took another one from her pack. You took several cautious paces towards her until you were blocking her view of the city so she pulled you into her lap without any warning so that you were perched on her left thigh with your legs dangling between hers and her arm around your waist. You didn’t protest but you noticeably tensed.

  “Light this,” she instructed as she handed you the lighter and put the cigarette between her teeth. You fumbled with the lighter, surprised she even let you handle it but also under practised with the sparkwheel kind. Natasha smirked at your incompetence to complete such a simple task and hummed when you finally got the flame. It was all too tempting to keep it lit and place it against her shirt but she snatched it out of your hands as soon as the thought crossed your mind, shooting you a warning look when you risked a glance. Bitch.

  At that, you took in Natasha’s outfit of a plain black shirt and a matching leather jacket over it. It made her dark orange hair stand clearer against it as it hung loose again. It looked soft, like you would be able to run your hands through it and not feel any knots despite the light wind pushing it about. It was the only colour in her outfit of black too and for a moment you wondered if she ever wore any other colour or at least something looser than sweatpants. The clothes she had given you were loose and in subtle colours, so she must have something. The fact that they smelled of her gave it away. Had she done that deliberately? 

  When you looked back up she was already watching you with that gaze that made it seem like she was trying to decipher your thoughts. She brought her hand with the cigarette up to your face and pushed the strands of hair the wind had blown out of your face and behind your ear, just like they do in movies. You tensed and turned your head to make her hand fall.

  “Now what?” You asked again, adamant not to let yourself soften under her touch. 

  “Now you behave and I’ll get you a treat,” she said plainly.

  What the hell did that mean?

  “What kind of treat?” You asked slowly, unsure of what it could mean. “Like…you let me go?” You tried and was met with a condescending chuckle, like a child had just asked to have every sweet in the store. 

  “That’s cute. I was thinking more like a notepad and some pencils,” she replied vaguely. You narrowed your eyes thoroughly confused. 

  “What?” 

  “You like drawing don’t you? I’ll get you something to draw with,” Natasha shrugged. 

  What the actual hell?

  “How did you know that?” You questioned immediately. The spy met your eye, unconcerned by what she had let slip and exhaled through her nose with an all knowing smile. 

  “I know a lot about you, detka,” she said lowly, bringing her hand up to your cheek again although this time you could feel the heat radiating off her cigarette unnervingly close to your face. 

  “If that’s true then you’ll know the only thing I want from you is to let me go,” you bit back and the redhead’s smile dropped. You held your breath as she stared back at you before you were broken from the trance by a searing heat on your thigh. You yelped and looked down to see Natasha’s cigarette but pushing into your leg, you hadn’t even noticed when she had moved it there.

  “Stop!” You pleaded and tried to push her hand away. 

  “You should be grateful for everything I’m doing for you,” the spy practically growled as she watched you writhe around in her lap in pain only withdrawing her hand once she deemed you to look pathetic enough. You grabbed at the burnt skin and leapt off her lap. Surprisingly, Natasha let you flee back inside towards the bathroom, a sob threatening to rip from your throat and only allowing it to do so once the door was shut behind you.

  You fumbled with the removable shower head and put it on a cool setting, placing it over the red mark on your thigh for as long as you could bear and hoped it would aid in muffling the sound of your crying as a wave of hopelessness crashed over you. Your skin became numb and you took the water away to see the mark growing darker.

  God, you hated her so much.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #dark!fic #dark!marvel #dark!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut

[loulouwrites]

CIRCUMSTANCE . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie solomons always swore he was not suited to be any woman's husband - but a terrible circumstance has him questioning that. warnings: pregnancy, angst, mention of abotion, unsafe abortion, swearing (obviously), unedited word count: 2.9k A/N: this is a prequel to home but it can be read as a standalone :)

The first day she had been sick, she assumed she was still hungover from her birthday the night before. She had celebrated with all of her friends, who had taken advantage of the bill being footed by her 'secret lover', ordering enough gin to make even the hardest drinker queasy the next day.

The second day she had been sick, a pit formed in her stomach, a small, but haunting, realisation creeping into her mind - but she tried not to ponder on it.

She continued her week as normal. She continued to go to work, getting up from her desk every few minutes to sneakily be sick in the alley outside. She would go home and smile through her queasiness, insisting to her mother that she was just wasn't too hungry lately.

When following week came around, and she was being sick every morning, and her menstrual cycle was over one month late, she had to acknowledge that seed of doubt in her mind - she was pregnant.

It was a terrible thing to discover. An unmarried woman, pregnant with a child that belonged to a man that most agreed was terrible, was not how she had envisioned her life would turn out. She had always imagined the moment she discovered she was with child would be a joyous experience - she would be married, living in a large house with a foyer and garden with roses - she wasn't getting any of that now. Not with Alfie Solomons' child growing inside of her.

She would be lying if she had never envisioned a nice life with the gangster. It was a silly thing to think about, and she only allowed to imagine it in the dark of night, when her thoughts were only her own. She would often wonder if he felt anything for her, or if she was just a convenience for him.

He had hired her as his secretary about one year ago, but they had known each other for longer. More women were entering the workforce and he thought it would be beneficial to have one in the 'bakery', claiming women had a better attention to detail than any of the men he worked with. It hadn't taken long for him to push her against his desk and lift up her skirt, and she had been more than happy to let him.

That's all it was, really. She had never seen him outside of work, she had never been to his house, nor had he been to hers, their little affair only existed in the small confines in his office, when everybody else had gone home, and she had been perfectly content with their arrangement.

But now, she was pregnant.

And he was going to fucking kill her.

Her mother breathed a sigh of disappointment as she leaned against the kitchen bench in the small, dull kitchen, watching her daughter with a look of disgust as she heaved into the kitchen sink. It had been over a week of her daughter skipping meals and trying to quietly throw up in the bathroom, and it did not take a genius to figure out what was going on - she had been through it herself, after all.

"I hope he's planning on marrying you," she said with her arms crossed against her chest.

"Excuse me?" Her daughter said through deep breaths, lifting her head from the sink to frown at her mother.

"I'm no fool, and neither are you, we both know what's going on here," the older woman walked to stand beside her daughter. "Who's the father?"

The younger woman froze.

Of course her mother knew.

She knew everything.

"I haven't told him yet."

"That's not what I asked."

Her daughter sighed, and lifted herself completely from the sink, the sickness seemingly disappearing in that moment. Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked at her mother.

It had been just the two of them supporting her and her siblings for so long. Her father had passed suddenly when she was a younger, and her mother had began working as a seamstress to make ends meet, and as the oldest daughter, she had started working as soon as she was old enough to help support the family.

She couldn't help but feel guilty. Her mum had sacrificed so much, all for her daughter to grow up and get pregnant to a man who she was certain didn't care if she lived or died.

"I'm sorry, mum," she breathed out, the tears now freely dripping onto her puffy cheeks.

The woman sighed heavily, making no move to comfort her distressed daughter. "You will tell whoever it is, and he will marry you," she turned to leave the kitchen, "and if he doesn't - don't bother coming back here.

The bakery was buzzing with life the next day, there didn't seem to be spare moment to even take a breath. Workers approached her desk almost constantly, asking about their pay, and threatening strike action 'if Solomons didn't pay what he owed'. This wasn't rare, her workday was always busy, but every interaction was making her want to break down in tears.

She hadn't seen Alfie. He had been in his office when she arrived and hadn't left all day, despite it nearing six o'clock in the evening. She noticed Ollie giving her concerned looks whenever he passed by, but she would avoid his gaze, her eyes trained on her typewriter or the various documents spread across her desk.

A feeling of dread curdled in her stomach as more people left the building, throwing down their aprons on their way out. She would usually look forward to this time, when everybody else would clear out, and Alfie would call her into his office but this day it did nothing but cause panic to envelop her.

"Are you okay?" She looked up to see Ollie stood at her desk, his apron gone and his black coat held in the crook of his elbow. She muttered something nonsensical, that she was fine, just not feeling well, but the look the man offered told her he didn't believe it. "You don't have to stay, you know?" She just gave him a confused look, and he sighed as he continued. "Alfie isn't going to sack you or anything...if you...say no, you know?"

She scoffed at his words, his misplaced concern endearing him even more to her. "Thanks, Ollie. I know that."

He didn't say anything else, knocking his fist on her desk gently before heading for the exit.

And then there was two.

She could have sworn he was watching Ollie leave, because as soon as the sound of the heavy door slamming shut rang through the now empty building, he was calling her name.

Every step to his office felt heavy. It was as if her body was telling her to just turn around and run.

Run away.

You'll get another job, just leave now.

But she ignored the protests of her body, and the screaming thoughts in her brain, slowly opening the heavy door and stepping to his dimly lit office.

"Y'alright, love?" He said as soon as the door shut behind her. He was sat on his chair, his legs up on the desk - so nonchalant, so unaware.

Bastard, she thought.

She walked to his desk, but rather than approaching him as she usually would, she sat down in one of the chairs on the other side, instead, placing her shaking hands on her lap.

He raised a brow at her actions, swinging his feet down onto the floor and leaning forward, his forearms resting on the desk, his hands clasped together as he studied her.

A sheen of sweat formed on her forehead as she sat under his gaze, her eyes darting everywhere in the room in order to avoid his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it, summoning every bit of courage she still held.

"Have you ever thought of marriage?"

Her question caused him to sit up a bit straighter in his seat, his head cocking to the side and a smirk playing on his lips.

"You proposing, love?" He joked, his smiled fading when she shot him an unimpressed look, her lips pressed into a thin line. "No," he cleared his throat, "ain't for me, all that."

She nodded in response, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"So you never want that?" He just shrugged. "Under no circumstances?"

"There is not a circumstance in the world that would get me to do that, love, no."

An uncomfortable silence filled the office. She had returned to looking at everything but the man sat across from her, and he continued to stare at her with a frown on his face.

She felt her chest tightening, her breaths coming out shorter as his words replayed in her head.

Not a circumstance in the world.

He called her name, rousing her from her thoughts and she stood up from her seat.

"Are you okay? You don't look well," he said in a tone that she would consider caring if it had come from anyone but him.

"I'm sorry, Alfie, I'm feeling a bit under the weather, I think I should go home."

"Of course, love," he nodded, beginning to stand but she briskly left the room before he could. "You be careful," he called after her, not sure she even heard.

There were days Ollie really enjoyed his job. The days where everything went right and nobody got punched, or killed, were considered goof days. But, the days that went wrong, always seemed to go disastrously wrong, and they usually started with him giving his boss some bad news - which is exactly what he was about to do.

"Are you goin' to say somethin' or are you just goin' to stand there like a lost fucking lemon?"

Ollie cringed at his boss' voice, his eyes trained on the cabinet in the corner of the room.

"Ollie, I swear to fucking-"

Ollie spoke the secretary's name abruptly, causing Alfie to pause mid sentence, relaxing in his chair. "I heard back from the men you got to follow her."

It had been three days since she had been to work. She had rang in sick the first day, and seeing as how she acted the night before, Alfie was inclined to believe her, but when she failed to check in the following day, he had ordered some of his best men to 'check in on her.'

"They saw her at Mrs Levy's..." He trailed off, watching as his boss' expression went from confused, to understanding, to fury.

"When?" There was a darkness to Alfie's tone, though his posture was relaxed, Ollie knew better, this was the calm before the storm - and he was about to bare the brunt of whatever was about to happen.

"Just now. It's the first time she's left her flat in days, they sent someone straight away-"

Alfie didn't stay to hear another word, flying out of his chair before Ollie had the chance to say another word, and Ollie breathed a sigh of relief.

He also said a prayer for Alfie's poor secretary.

Mrs Levy was not the kindest woman. She had helped many girls in a similar position, but she had never claimed to do it out of kindness. If you asked her, she would say it was a way to save the reputation of girls in her community and an excellent money maker.

The young woman looked around the bedroom she was in, it was clean, if a little cluttered. There was a table next to the bed with various instruments laid out, little metal pieces that made her stomach turn if she looked at them for too long.

Mrs Levy had already explained everything to her - what would happen, how it would feel, and what could happen after - which did nothing to quell her nerves.

She had asked for a moment alone, and Mrs Levy had rolled her eyes, telling her it would be extra if she stayed there too long. She sat on the bed, her shoes laid on the floor, and her hand resting on her stomach. She didn't feel an overwhelming sense of loss about what was about to happen, but it did make her sad, and just for the moment, she allowed herself to think about the 'what ifs'.

What if she had told Alfie she was pregnant?

Would he have changed his stance on marriage?

Would he have given her the money for this himself?

Would he have confessed his undying love for her and dropped to his knees in front of her?

She scoffed to herself, shaking her head to rid the fantasies from her mind. There was no point of dwelling on it now, it was done, and he would never know. She would return to work in a few days and claim she had just had a stomach bug.

It would all just be a bad memory.

She was about to call Mrs Levy back into the room when a crash sounded from outside the bedroom door.

"You get back here, right now, you little-"

Mrs Levy's voice became background noise when the door swung open, and none other than Alfie Solomons blew through the doorway, pistol in hand.

"You and I need to talk, love," he said, causing her eyes to widen in dear. He looked at her confusedly before following her gaze to the pistol held in his hand. "Fuckin' hell, I'm not...I wasn't..." he huffed a sigh, tucking the gun into his belt and holding his hands up in surrender.

"You can't be here," Mrs Levy's voice cut in. "Get out!"

"Oh fuck off, you ol' bat," Alfie rolled his eyes, swinging an arm out as if to bat her away. "C'mon," he held an arm out to the woman who sat on the bed, her eyes wide and her hands shaking.

The car was silent as Alfie drove through the streets of London, the only sounds coming from the shouts of pedestrians as they avoided the car that sped past them, narrowly missing them as they tried to cross the road.

"How did you know?" She asked meekly, her eyes downcast.

"Had my men follow you when you didn't show up for work two days in a row - you're sacked by the way," he said simply, as if he were discussing the weather.

"What? Alfie-"

"Well you can't be workin' now anyway," he shrugged. "With you being...y'know," he gestured a hand to her stomach, "wouldn't be right to make ya sit in a distillery all day."

"I need to work now more than ever, Alfie," she protested, turning her body slightly to face him as best as she could in the cramped vehicle. "I need money if I'm going to be raising a child alone."

Alfie's head snapped towards her, a frown on his face. "Who said anythin' about raisin' it alone?"

"Really?" She raised a brow at him, as if she were waiting for him to burst out in laughter. "You said it yourself, Alfie, under no circumstances would you get married."

"Is that what all this is about? You skive work and go to see that daft bint because of I said I didn't want to get married in passing."

"Mrs Myers is not a-"

"She's killed more people than I have, love."

"That's not funny, Alfie," she admonished, crossing her arms across her chest. "So you're saying you would get married?"

"No," he replied. "But I ain't sayin you'd have to do it alone. I paid for your birthday night out but you don't think I'd pay for my own fuckin' child?"

"I can't go home, Alfie. My mum said-"

"Fuck that daft cow," he pointed a finger in her direction, he had known her mother for years, and he had hated her for just as long. "And you will be living with me."

"Unmarried and cohabitating? Are you trying to get me ostracised?"

"You should have thought about that before you let me get ya pregnant, darlin'," he looked at her with a toothy grin. Her face twisted in confusion when she looked out of the window, taking in her surroundings.

"Where the fuck are we?" She asked, looking at the big white houses with a mixture of uncertainty and wonder.

"We are home," he told her plainly, parking the car in front of what she considered to be the nicest house on the street. She wordlessly exited the vehicle, following behind him as he ascended the steps and opened the black door, holding it open for her.

"Better than your mum's flat, ain't it?" He threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to his side as if the entire situation wasn't an absolute nightmare.

She hummed in response, taking in the foyer, the walls were bare, and the wallpaper was dated, but that could all be fixed - and she looked forward to doing it.

"If I were to consider marriage," Alfie spoke from her side. "I would only consider it with you," he pulled away, clearing his throat. "Let me give you a tour."

Alfie wasn't lying. He proposed to her when she was four months pregnant, right after they felt their baby kick for the first time. They married one week later, a grand affair considering it was on such short notice.

Their son was born exactly five months after their wedding, in their shared bedroom.

thanks for reading! for anybody who has read more of my stories do you think they're too similar plot-wise? i enjoy writing angst a lot but get scared that my fics are too samey lmao. so if you'd like to see me write something different pls lmk

#alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

Imagine if you will. Post Vecna, Steve and Eddie have been circling each other like vultures all summer, but neither one of them will do anything about it because Steve is convinced the minute he does, he will Fuck It Up the way he always does, and Eddie is just waiting for the day Steve gets another thump on the head and realizes he's been wasting his time with the Town Freak.

Yeah, they flirt. Of course Eddie flirts , but Steve isn't as stupid as people think he is. He knows that Eddie is just Like That, right? Sure, Eddie smiles at him in that way he does, throws his arm around Steve's shoulder, grabs his hand and drags him around like it's completely and totally normal to just hold your bros hand like that because of course it is. Why wouldn't it? Entirely pushing away the fact that it's like he can feel Eddie's fingers, the cool metal of his rings catching against Steve's palm even after he's let go. Like a phantom limb that itches and itches and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he knows he'll never actually get any relief.

Robin holds his hand all the time, so Steve tells himself it doesn't actually mean anything.

Because it can't.

Until one night in August when the temperatures are so high and the air is so humid you can practically drink it, and Eddie's invited himself to spend the night because, "What are rich friends for if not to steal their air conditioning. Plus look at me, Stevie! I'm practically melting."

"I was gonna go with poodle that got electrocuted, but yeah...melted works too, Munson."

Steve ignores the fact that Eddie's grin, the way he smiles so big, sometimes it's like those pretty doe eyes of his complete disappear. How something so fucking adorable could also make him feel like there are splinters in his heart, Steve doesn't know.

He's just going to chalk it up to the Munson Effect and just pretend like he doesn't feel a little like dying later when Steve is in the ensuite brushing his teeth, and if he's been hiding in here for the last ten minutes or so probably brushing the fucking enamal off his teeth, that's between him, God, and his dentist, okay?

It's not like Eddie hasn't spent the night before. Most of the time, they pass out stoned on the couch before they ever make it to an actual bed. But tonight, after three joints and a four hour movie marathon, Steve's back could not take another night on the couch bending his spine in the most obscene ways just to avoid accidentally cuddling the shit out of Eddie like his hindbrain seems to always be screaming at him to.

Eddie had simply shrugged, grinned, and followed him upstairs without comment or complaint.

And that's why Steve is having a breakdown in front of his sink right now, because he just doesn't think Sleepy Steve can be trusted not to complete lose his fucking mind.

Not when Eddie is out there in his room, sprawled on his bed because Steve had been left shaking his head and sighing when he'd watched the metalhead take a running leap and belly flop onto Steve's hideous comforter.

("Gingham should be made illegal just for your sake, Stevie. This is just cruel and unusual punishment, man.")

But it's fine. He's fine. He's in on the joke, he gets it.

Until he finally feels steady enough to open the bathroom door to see Eddie exactly in the position Steve'd thought he'd be.

Only suddenly everything is very much Not A Joke, because, yeah, of course he'd told Eddie he could borrow some pajamas, because Eddie never remembers to bring his own.

He's just not sure how his old letterman jacket counts as, you know, that.

Just like he knows that Eddie is going to take one look at his face right now, because basically it feels like someone's reached inside and cut one of his fucking wires or something, and know.

A normal person would probably say something, but Steve has buckets of brain damage he can blame for what he does next, thankfully,because in the span of, like thirty seconds, Steve finds himself practically on top of Eddie, hands on either side of the guy's absolutely ridiculous curls.

Of course, now that some oxygen has apparently made its way around to some of his braincells, Steve realizes how fucked up it is that he's just tackled Eddie liked this and oh my god how the fuck is he going to explain this when the only true explanation he has is just, "I want to fuck you so bad I think I've actually made myself dumber."

"Thank fucking christ, Harrington. I thought about, you know, just the jacket and nothing else but it seemed a little too on-the-nose, so I--"

There is a split second of pure, blind panic because what the fuck what the fuck oh my god he said all of that out loud?

"Wow, I really did make you lose some of those precious braincells of yours. You think if you fuck me tonight, you'll get them back? Like...reverse osmosis or some--"

Steve decides to just go ahead and shove his tongue in Eddie's mouth before either one of them can say anything else to screw it up.

Because god knows he's fucking waited long enough.

They both have, apparently.

#steddie fluff #steddie fic #what is this it just happened #steddie drabbles #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[viaoverthemoon]

Can I request you a fic for Vendetta Leon!. Where leon is married and has a wife but having drinking problems because he lost his unit and after the Glenn Arias incident it still doesn't improve. So she convinces that he doesn't have to be alone and she will be there for him and will help him get through this. Just a lot of fluff and a little bit of angst. (You can ignore this request if you want)

Ask, and thy shall receive!

Vendetta!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your husband Leon has been struggling, and you remind him that you'll always be there for him no matter what. <3

Thank you for waiting! I hope this is satisfactory! <3

Tw: Mentions of alcohol abuse, addiction healing, angst but it's not bad, fluff

Enjoy! <3

'Til Death Do Us Part

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

Your body suddenly notices the coldness by your side where your warm husband should be laying. You reach out, hoping to drag him back to you, only to find the area empty.

You're awake now, sitting up slowly as you wipe away the sleep in your eyes. Trying not to let the panic take over at the possibility that Leon may have gotten called to work, you decide to look around first.

Tugging on your robe, you get out of your shared bed and walk to the bathroom where light pours from the cracks of the door.

Only, when you slowly open the door, your heart instantly sinks and you let out a slow exhale.

"Oh, Leon..." Leon's drunken gaze turns to you, mouth upturning into a wide smile as he accidentally knocks over one of the numerous empty alcohol bottles that surround him as he sits on the floor.

You try not to show your slight disappointment as you walk to him, his hands reaching for you. "Sweetheart! I didn't know you'd be awake this early. I would've made you breakfast or sang you a song, or something."

He clearly isn't making sense.

He trails off with his slurred blabbering when he sees your face, the look of concern and pure disappointment causing him to sober up a bit.

"Oh... Honey I'm- I'm so fucking sorry." He rubs his hands along your shins and calves. "I know... I said I was doing better but-... Oh (Y/n) I'm not. I'm really not. But I'll-! I'll get better soon I promise! I just needed a sip or two- I swear-" He continues to babble incoherent promises and begs for you to forgive him, the look in his eyes one of fear and hesitation. Your heart cries for him.

You crouch in front of your husband and gently hold his face, watching as he relaxes into your touch. "Lee... of course I forgive you. You're going through a lot, and I completely understand that. Am I a little upset?... Yes. I am. But I'm not going to leave you. I'm with you, my love. No matter what."

"I know, sweetheart. I know. I'm sorry I just-" He pauses, letting out a shaky exhale as tears fill his eyes. "I'm just going through a lot right now-..."

His tears begin to free fall and you take his head into your arms, sitting next to him and holding him as he cries his heart out to you.

"Oh Lee. It's hard, I know." You hold him for however long he needs you to, ignoring the rise of the sun and the chirp of the birds. Only when he pulls away do you let yourself be brought back to reality.

You brush your fingers through his hair as he looks at you, sniffling with dried tears on his face.

"I'll always be here for you. And if you mess up, that's fine. We'll start again as many times as we need to." You raise your hand to his chest, right over his heart. And he does the same to you. "I'm not giving up. And neither are you. We're in this together, Lee." You caress his face with your other hand.

"Til death do us part."

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

Omgg hiii. Y'all I've been working all week. This is the first break I've gotten.

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Requests are open!

#leon x reader #resident evil #viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #re4 #angst #vendetta!leon kennedy #vendetta leon #re vendetta #resident evil vendetta #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 7: Extended Stay

No Vacancy

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 AO3 link

CW: Smut

*EDDIE*

Eddie laid awake for a long time after Steve fell asleep in his arms. He gazed at the other man’s face and couldn't quite believe what had just happened. It felt like a dream, though he knew it wasn’t. Even his admittedly wild imagination couldn’t possibly have come up with such gorgeous images on its own. He had been in awe, transfixed from the moment Steve told him to take his clothes off and traced the pattern of his tattoo with eyes and fingertips with a reverence usually reserved for works of art.

Eddie had been with his fair share of partners, he knew what it was like to be wanted, but no one before now had made him feel like that, precious and beautiful.  

It was all so overwhelming. He’d been completely unprepared for how devastating it would feel to sink inside the deepest part of his boy for the first time.

Not his boy though, not yet. That was why he couldn't sleep. It wasn’t only because he couldn’t stop replaying in his mind the desperate sounds Steve made as he tried to fuck himself harder and faster on Eddie’s fingers, though that was definitely a contributing factor. No, it was because he knew that come morning he would have to talk, and say all the right things because he could not fuck this up.

Because Eddie was ruined now. He would never be the same after this, and all it had taken was one night.  

When he could no longer fight it, he settled down and closed his eyes, recalling the thought he’d had before that it would be far too easy to fall in love with Steve Harrington. As he finally let the exhaustion of the day pull him under into sleep, he had the sinking feeling that he already had. 

Eddie woke in the same position he’d fallen asleep in, flat on his back, arms wrapped around Steve who was resting on his chest. There was a tension in the body he held, telling him that the other man was already awake. Sure enough, when he looked he found a pair of soft hazel eyes staring back at him nervously from under a thick curtain of lashes. 

“Hi.” Eddie said, voice thick with sleep and all the other things that were bubbling back up to the surface now that he was conscious. 

“Hi.” Steve replied robotically.

The air between them was strained. Eddie hated it, knowing it was his fault. He smoothed the hair back from Steve's face and kissed his forehead, trying and failing to think of where to begin. It was all a bit scarier in the daylight.

“Steve, I’m… “ was as far as he got before the words got caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again, rushing out. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.” 

Which was definitely not at all what he had intended to say, but he needed a minute. Just a minute, that was all. He slid gently out from under Steve, squeezing his arm in a way that he hoped was comforting before he fled to their shared bathroom. 

He actually did feel a little gross, not having showered the day before, so Eddie washed himself quickly then stood under the hot spray for a long time after, feeling lost. For someone who hardly ever shut the fuck up, he wasn’t kidding when he told Steve he didn’t know how to talk. He could bullshit all day but conversations about feelings weren’t exactly something Eddie had a lot of experience with growing up, or since.

The creak of the bathroom door opening pulled him from his thoughts. He must have been in there too long, he figured, and waited for Steve to say something. To ask if he was okay or to yell at him, anything, but it never came. Instead Steve quietly peeled back the curtain just enough to step into the shower and join him. 

Neither of them spoke as Steve crowded up behind him and wrapped arms around his waist. Like the night before they let their bodies do the talking. Steve kissed a line from his shoulder to his neck, pressing into him from behind. Eddie shivered, feeling the way Steve’s cock was filling out as he leaned back into the touch. 

His heart pounded as his fantasy came to life, then Steve turned him around, drawing him into a deep but brief kiss before sinking lower, and the sight of Steve there on his knees with Eddie’s cock down his throat was better than any daydream. It was over quickly, but Eddie didn’t mind. Steve’s mouth felt far too good to last, and he was eager to return the favor one way or another.

It was a bit better between them after the shower, nothing like a little more sex to break the ice, but Eddie still felt the pressure mounting to explain himself. He sat Steve down on the edge of the bed, each of them only wearing a towel tied around their waist, while he paced a hole in the floor.

It all had to start with an apology, that much he was sure of, but every time he looked at Steve he had the overwhelming urge to rip the towel off of him and see how long he could hold his breath as he choked himself on... 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and took a couple deep steadying breaths. 

“Sorry, this was a mistake. Can you-”

Steve interrupted him mid sentence as a small wounded noise escaped from his throat. Eddie immediately cursed himself for his poor choice of words. 

“Shit. No, sweetheart. Fuck, sorry!” He babbled, holding his hands up in front of him. “I mean, I can’t concentrate with you sitting there in only a towel. Can we just-” He trailed off, finally opening his eyes again to find Steve looking both relieved and a little amused.

“You want me to put some clothes on?” Steve asked, fighting off a smirk

“Please.”

When they were both dressed and Eddie could think with his actual brain, he sat down next to Steve, took one of his hands, and hoped for the best.

“I’m sorry for the way that I acted, have been acting. It wasn’t fair to you, not when I took off yesterday morning, or when I walked away from you at the beach, and definitely not when I brought other guys home to try and distract myself from the fact that you were consuming my every fucking thought. You deserved better.”

Steve was quiet, letting Eddie's words sink in as he chewed on his bottom lip. Eventually, he asked, “Why did you do all that, and what… changed?”

“Apart from thinking you were straight? Fear, mostly.“ Eddie paused, taking a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. “I don’t do this, Steve. I don’t date, if that’s even what you’re looking for out of this.” 

Steve nodded, squeezing Eddie’s hand encouragingly, so he pressed on. 

“I don't… trust people enough to let them in, Wayne and Chrissy being the exception. I've never wanted to, before. But with you, I think-” Eddie stopped, shaking his head.

No, don’t be wishy-washy about it Munson. 

“I mean I know, I want to try. I was so wrong about you before. If anyone is an asshole, it’s me. I’ve really liked getting to know the real you, and I'd like to keep doing that and maybe show you more of me too. That’s why I came back, to see if you’d give me a chance even though I know I don’t deserve it, and I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’m sure I’ll fuck it up somehow but I-”

Steve cut him off with a kiss, murmuring a single word against his lips. “Yes.”

Eddie pulled back just enough to see his face more clearly. “Yes?”

“Yes, I'm saying yes to giving you a chance.”

“Well thank fuck for that.” Eddie said, smiling wide and unrestrained before pressing back in close and slotting their lips together.

“Are you sure you have to work tonight?” Steve asked, watching from the bed as Eddie stood in front of the dresser, tying his hair up and slipping his rings on. 

It was one of the things that hadn’t come up yet, the fact that they were still on opposing schedules and how that would play into things now that they were together. Eddie certainly wasn’t going to bring it up, he was taking Steve’s lead on everything like that since he had more experience with this stuff. 

Boyfriends.

It seemed like such a childish word to describe this intense thing blooming between them, but maybe that was just because he’d never had one before. 

He glanced back at Steve through the mirror and admired his own handiwork, spotting the bruises that had taken form on either side of the other man’s throat. They were admittedly a little old to walk around sporting hickeys but something about lounging around making out all afternoon had made them both feel a bit like teenagers again, and judging by the sounds Steve had been making as Eddie attacked the delicate skin of his neck, he didn’t mind.

“Why, you gonna miss me or something?” Eddie teased, sauntering back over to the bed.

“Yes.” Steve said, and it sounded like the truth. He said it like it cost him nothing to admit, and Eddie wondered if he could ever be brave like that. 

“As much as I might want to, I can’t call out again. I already bailed on a shift yesterday. Now that I'm staying I don't really want to lose this job.”

They had talked a little more in-between bouts of trying to devour each other and Eddie found himself slowly opening up about his past and what he suspected were the real reasons why he had moved around so much since leaving their hometown behind. Namely that anytime a place got too familiar or someone got too close, Eddie would cut and run.

“Were you really going to leave?” Steve asked.

Eddie shook his head at himself. He’d come damn close. “Oh yeah. I was losing my mind, ready to drive 8 hours straight to get to my Uncle’s and lay low for a while.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.” Eddie agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to Steve's mouth. He was becoming obsessed with the taste of him and only managed to pull away with great effort. “Any plans tonight?”

“Oh right, I didn't get to tell you! You know how Robin and Chrissy are not-so-secretly in love with each other?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“I think I finally convinced Robin to ask her out on a real date. I’m supposed to watch the front desk for a few hours while they go out to dinner tonight.”

“Holy shit!” 

Eddie couldn’t believe it was finally happening, it was about time. He was thrilled though it made him feel even worse about the way he’d been avoiding his best friend. He’d find a way to make it up to her and he knew she’d understand. If they were both about to embark on new relationships they would need each other now more than ever. 

“Oh, I get it now.” Eddie said. “You wanted me to stick around because you’ll get bored down there by yourself.”

“Maybe, but I still meant what I said about missing you.”

“It's nice of you to cover for them.”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“You really are a sweetheart, you know that?”

“Shut up.” Steve said, blushing furiously. It was adorable that after everything they’d done in the past 24 hours a few simple words could affect him so much.

“Actually I need to get down there soon so she can show me what I have to do. Do you think…” Steve trailed off absently picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “Nevermind.”

“No, what were you going to say?”

“Can I tell them about us, Robin and Chrissy?”

Eddie fought not to squirm, It felt like the first big test. Part of him wanted to keep things just between the two of them, at least for a while, but maybe that was selfish. He didn’t want Steve to think he was ashamed of him either, and it would be unfair to ask him to keep things from his best friend. Besides, given Eddie’s recent discoveries, he was pretty sure he knew why Robin had been pissed at him for the past few weeks, maybe now she’d stop giving him the evil eye. 

“Of course you can tell them.”

*ROBIN*

Already dressed for her night out with Chrissy, Robin was attempting to stay busy, puttering around the motel lobby straightening things up and worrying about how she was going to tell Steve that she hadn’t exactly gone through with their plan. The two women were still going out to dinner and all but Robin might have, purposely, neglected to call it a date. 

She was also still fuming over how sad and dejected Steve had looked the night before. The whole thing was ridiculous and entirely Eddie's fault, she was sure. If that little son of a bitch hadn’t run away because he was jealous that Steve had a date with someone else, she’d eat her hat. 

And the fucking nerve he had to react in such a way after Steve had been so clearly pining after him, after he’d endured several of Eddie’s own hookups without complaint. To pull this shit now, just when Steve was trying to get over him.

What she didn’t know was why Steve had been even more upset last night. While she respected that he didn’t want to talk about it, that didn’t mean she wasn’t dying to know. He’d found the other boy but clearly the talk hadn’t gone well, though she had noticed that a certain van was back in its parking spot when she got up this morning. She wasn’t sure what kind of game Eddie was playing here but she didn’t think she could let it go this time.

God this had all been such a colossally bad idea, lying to both of them, forcing them to room together. She felt terrible for her part in it. If she’s just told Steve the truth, or better yet never gone through with the stupid scheme from the beginning, it would have saved him so much hurt feelings. 

The bell above the door dinged, interrupting Robin from her thoughts and she looked up to see Steve entering the lobby. He smiled when he saw her and it went all the way up to his eyes. He radiated happiness and walked with a spring in his step that she hadn’t seen for some time. He was practically fucking glowing. Robin gaped at him. What could have possibly happened to change things so much in the few hours since she saw him last? 

Then she spotted it, a hickey that was just barely peeking out from under the collar of his baby blue polo shirt.

Robin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

He didn’t even ask what she meant, just tugged his shirt up a little higher to cover the offending bruise, smile never wavering. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

“Gross.”

“Just cause you don’t like men.”

Robin rolled her eyes. 

She already knew the answer but she had to ask anyway. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, Eddie.” He said, with the nerve to sound all wistful like a fisherman’s wife waiting for her husband to return from sea. 

She didn't really want to rain on his parade when he’d come in there looking so chipper but as his best friend it was part of her job. “Are you sure this is a good idea?

He took a minute to answer, leaning against the front counter as his expression turned serious. “I can’t be sure about anything Robs, but I know I have to give this a shot. I mean, c’mon you said it yourself, how long have I been into the guy?”

“Oh so we’re just freely admitting that now?”

“Fuck off.”

“Don't get me wrong, I like Eddie, most of the time, and if you’re happy then I'm happy for you.” She began, choosing her words carefully. “He’s fun to be around and the way he’s always been there for Chrissy, I know it’s meant a lot to her. I hate the way he’s treated you, but I do know that deep down he’s a good guy. I’m just worried. Clearly he’s got some issues and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I don’t want to see me get hurt either, but I'm willing to take that risk. I think he might be worth it.”

Oh, god. She knew that look. 

“Shit, you are in so deep already aren't you? It has to be some kind of record.”

If the way he would no longer meet her eye was any indication, she’d hit the nail right on the head. 

He cleared his throat loudly and drummed out a little beat on the counter with his knuckles. “Alright enough about me, don’t you have a date to get to?”

Robin grimaced. “Right. About that… “

“You didn’t ask her.”

“No, I did. Sort of. We’re still going out tonight, but only as friends.”

“Wait, did she say she didn’t want it to be a date or did you chicken out at the last minute and not call it a date.”

“I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“Robin, you have to tell her!.”

Her reply died on her tongue as the door chimed again and Chrissy came walking through it looking absolutely gorgeous in a bright yellow sundress, white strappy sandals, and her hair tied up in a high bouncy ponytail. 

And boy was Robin was a sucker for a bouncy ponytail.

Chrissy always looked great, whether she was dressed up with a full face of makeup, or was sweaty and fresh from the gym, but sometimes, like right now, her beauty just smacked Robin in the face. 

She stood there gawking for a moment before Steve elbowed her in the side, then quickly snapped her mouth closed and tried to remember how to be a normal person. Everything was fine, she was cool, and not at all freaking out.

“Hey guys!” Chrissy said when she reached them. “Are you ready to go or do we still need to give Steve the lay of the land?”

“I… was just getting to that!” Robin said, nervous now for a very different reason. “Do you want to take him to your office and show him the books and the phone?” 

Chrissy nodded, pulling Steve along behind her and rounding the counter, giving Robin a wink over her shoulder when he wasn’t looking.

This was the part Robin had been most worried about. Even if things were somehow now miraculously working out between Steve and Eddie, she still didn’t want him to find out she’d set him up. It was Chrissy’s idea to fill the books with fake names to help cover for the fact that the motel was only half full tonight. They could get away with having a few rooms open, as most guests wouldn’t have been staying the whole summer like the boys were anyway, but too many vacancies and the whole ruse fell apart.

It would be fine, she told herself. He wouldn’t even need to be there that long, just a few hours. It being such a small place they only kept the office open till 9 or 10 at night, leaving a sign on the door with the girl’s phone number in case of emergencies. Steve knew that, and she’d given him a spare key to lock up. The first thing they would do if business ever picked up was hire more help so they wouldn’t have to be shackled to the place 24/7.

When Chrissy was all done explaining things, the two girls headed out with Steve walking them to the door like an overprotective father. Robin glared, daring him to say something embarrassing. He didn’t, thankfully, but he did catch her eye through the door as she followed Chrissy down the street and mouthed the words “Be brave.” It was sweet. She smiled and flipped him off. 

Chrissy linked their arms together as they walked causing Robin to break out in goosebumps where their skin touched. “So, where are we headed, Tide’s?”

“That was the plan, not sure if it’s a good idea anymore, considering.” Robin muttered.

Chrissy squealed, eyes lighting up. “I know, isn’t it great! Steve told me when I was showing him how to use the phone. I can’t believe we pulled it off.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Robin agreed halfheartedly. What else could she say?

“He said Eddie was working tonight too, can we still go there, please? I’m dying to see his face.”

Robin was powerless to deny Chrissy anything so of course she was going to agree, it also occurred to her that this way she could get her shovel talk out of the way nice and early. 

“Sure.”

As soon as they walked in the door Robin looked right at Eddie across the bar. He grinned when he spotted Chrissy, giving her a little wave, but looked down sheepishly when he saw Robin, busying himself with wiping down the already spotless surface in front of him. Without thinking she began to move in his direction ready to give him a piece of her mind but was stopped by a gentle grip at her elbow. 

“Robin, I know you probably want to threaten him with bodily harm if he hurts Steve in any way, and I don't blame you for that, but do you think you could at least hold off for a while so we can enjoy our night out together?”

Well, when she put it like that.

“Yea, of course, sorry.”

It was going great. 

They were two drinks in and Robin had finally started to relax. She wasn’t thinking about Steve or the motel or anything besides the girl sitting across from her. They hadn’t had fun like this in months. She really had to hand it to Steve, he was absolutely right. As much time as they spent together at work and at home, it was different like this, to be out together with the sole purpose of having fun and people watching at the bar like they used to do all the time back in college. 

With a healthy buzz going they ordered some food and Robin excused herself to the bathroom. She paused on her way back hiding behind a half-wall when she spotted Eddie who had taken up a seat next to Chrissy at their table.

They were sitting close, heads bent together conspiratorially, talking as she held his hand. For a minute Eddie didn’t look like his usual cocky overconfident self, he looked… terrified. Enough that Robin almost felt bad about all the ways in which she’d imagined maiming him. 

It didn’t last long. Right before her eyes Robin saw Chrissy soothe him with words and hugs and a kiss on the cheek. Then they were laughing and giddy and Eddie was clearly gushing about something, Steve she hoped. When she felt like she’d given them enough time together she resumed her walk back to the table. Eddie spotted her first and quickly rose from his chair, eyes widening a smidge like she made him nervous. 

Good, he should be. 

But she smiled and nodded and he did the same before retreating back behind the bar where it was safe. 

“What was that all about?” Robin asked, wondering if Chrissy had gotten more details out of Eddie than Steve had been willing to share so far. 

Chrissy stared down at her drink, an unreadable expression crossing her face and she stirred the ice around. “Oh, y’know, boys.” She said eventually, huffing a laugh before proceeding to upend her cup and down the entire drink in one go. 

Robin blinked at her, mouth open in shock and noticed the sudden weird energy between them. 

Chrissy finally looked at her again, studying her face as she pursed her lips. 

“Robin, I'm going to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Okay?”

“Was this supposed to be a date?”

Robin felt all the blood drain from her face. “What makes you ask that?” She said stiffly.

Chrissy shrugged. “No reason.”

Bullshit. Eddie must have said something to her, Steve probably told him about their plan. Oh well, no point in hiding from it now. Might as well face this head-on.

“And if it was?” Robin asked, managing to sound a lot more confident than she was feeling.

Chrissy slid out of her chair and for a second Robin thought it was all over, that she’d ruined everything, but then Chrissy took up the one next to her, grasping her hand under the table where no one else could see. “Then I would tell you that I've had a crush on you since we moved into our first dorm together and ask why the hell you haven't kissed me yet.”

The burst of joy that came over Robin was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her mouth spread into a smile so wide it made her face hurt. “Well, there's still time. It’s not the end of the date yet is it?” 

Their server came by as they were still gazing into each other's eyes, noting the empty glass and asking if they wanted another round. Instead of ordering more drinks they asked if their dinner could be made to go, and for the check, both eager to return home and continue their date night somewhere a little more private. 

Ten minutes later with takeout bags in hand they were headed out the door and Robin couldn’t help catching Eddie’s eye again as he tossed her a wink from across the room. She rolled her eyes at him fondly despite how pissed she’d been at him lately. She might even thank him for this someday. One thing she knew for sure, that was the last time she was thinking about either of those boys for the rest of the night. She had something much more fun in mind to focus on instead. 

Chapter 8

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world 💜

Taglist: @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @epiclazershark @estrellami-1 @lokfae @raisedbylibrarians @impala314 @meganwinchester @kacatshi @warlordess @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @garden-of-gay @meela86 @gregre369 @finntheehumaneater

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #double idiots to lovers #90's beach motel au #no upside down au #steddie #buckingham #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #cw smut #no vacancy

[quillsareswords]

I gotchu bestie

How about doing Damian's makeup for a Halloween event 👀 I can picture him wanting something cool like a skull

Omfg you're the best 😘

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

WARNINGS: language, a kiss

MASTER LIST in BIO

"Will you hold still?"

"I am holding still. Your hands are shaking."

"They are not–" you suck in a deep breath. "You know what, just. Hang on."

You set the pallet of cheap face paint down on the edge of the sink a little harder than strictly necessary. With both hands now free, you grip his shoulders and steer him to lean against the counter.

He takes a deep breath to resteady himself while you pick the paint back up. He closes his eyes so you can fill in the big black sockets you've already drawn on in eyeliner. "What time is it?"

Your gaze cuts toward his phone, laying face up on the other side of the bathroom sink. "Seven-fifteen. All things considered, we're doing pretty good here." His eyelid twitches like he's about to open it right as you set the brush down, and you have to restrain yourself from snarling.

"You mean, considering we knew nothing of this party until three hours ago?" There's a tone there, squished between his vowels. Blame, irritation—something along those lines. "There were hardly any costumes left on the shelves. It's a wonder you found these." He plucks limply at the skeleton print hoodie and sweatpants set he's wearing. You're wearing an identical one.

"Well, it would have been much easier if–"

"If I'd listened to you and gotten costumes weeks ago, yes, yes, I know. You were right about someone deciding to throw a party last minute."

"I was going to say if somebody wouldn't have insisted we match, but yeah, that too." You chuckle, setting your pinky finger on the bridge of his nose to steady your hand a little better. "But go ahead, keep telling me how right I was."

He cracks open the eye you aren't painting and clicks his tongue. "Firstly, it will be easier to find one another this way. Don't even pretend you aren't enjoying it. Secondly, that's the only time you'll hear it tonight."

You roll your eyes as you go back for more pigment. "Right, because I'm definitely not right about the fact that we should have bought Halloween candy last week. I'm sure the stores will have plenty."

"We won't be here to hand it out on Halloween, anyway, Beloved. We'll be at Father's, remember?"

You switch to his other eye with a moment of warning. "Don't open your other eye until the paint's dry. Yeah I know we won't be able to hand it out. It would be for us, stupid."

He scrunches his nose, creasing some sti-drying paint, and you have to resist the urge to accidentally stab him in the eye. Guess you're gonna have to rinse the brush to change colors again. "You don't think Father will have plenty?"

"I'm sure he will, at his house. I was going to hold you hostage and make you eat it all with me while we binged all of the Time Burton classics, but fine. Whatever. Guess you just don't love me." You turn to set the paint down and reach for a wash cloth to start fixing his nose.

Instead, he plants his hands on your hips and turns you back toward him. He manages to catch you off-guard when he presses his lips against yours. He must be in terribly good spirits, because he's smiling when he pulls away. "Darling, if that's a it takes, I'll rob every child in Gotham to present you with a hoard if candy any king would be jealous of. We'll be so sick by the end of it, neither of us will be able to work the next day."

You tilt your head, gazing gently at him. There's a beat, soft silence drifting through your friend's second bathroom, and he hopes you're swooning on the inside, but then, "That was really sweet, and I love you more than I think I'll ever be able to describe. But you just completely fucked up both of our makeup and I think I'm going to kill you."

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne blurb #quillshalloweencollection

[creelteeth]

Your perv Steve writing is so so good!! Absolutely love everything you put out about him. My food for thought— imagine perv Steve cumming in innocent/oblivious reader’s panties before she gets out of the shower and she puts them on thinking she just didn’t dry them (or herself) properly 😳😳 Steve’s head would explode

ok first of all ily ! im glad u enjoy what i put out!! second of all , this made my brain go fuzzy. u don’t understand the way perv!steve + panties drives me crazy

sharing an apartment with steve was a dream for both of you. It elated him in ways you didn’t even know about but that was neither here nor there. one of his favorite things about having constant access to you was the shared bathroom. the bathroom that connected your two bedrooms by having an entry on either side. because of that he was able to appease himself very easily. you were always so oblivious to the door that led to steve’s door, in fact he was certain you’d forgotten about it completely.

you’re such a ditzy little thing— never remembering to check if you locked both doors before hopping into the shower.

today was no different from any other. you’d come home from work and went right to the bathroom, stripping your clothes from the day to treat yourself to a very long shower. the minute steve heard the faucet turn on, he felt himself growing hard. it was routine at this point— routine for him to sneak into the bathroom from his side. he watched you through a small gap in the curtain. always waiting for when you put your head under the water to tip toe inside.

normally he’d go for the dirty hamper, grabbing one of your socks or dirty underwear to relieve himself into. he’d lean up against the bathroom sink, wrapping the fabric around the sensitive tip of his cock and fuck into it until he came. today he was met with a discovery. this time you’d laid your pajamas out on the counter, the preciseness of the display made steve’s cock ache. he looked over the pretty pink nightie , next to it a pair of panties in the same shade and socks to match.

one hand palmed desperately at his leaky tip while the other grazed over the pristine fabric. there was something about the image that made his stomach churn. perhaps, it was the softness of everything, and his unrelenting urge to completely ruin you. since he couldn’t have that he figured he’d settle for ruining your clothes instead. he looked over his shoulder to see what point in your shower routinely you were, perking an ear up to listen out for your hums.

when he got confirmation you were still busy he grabbed up the pink cotton underwear. immediately yanking his pants down to bunch around his thighs. it was almost embarrassing for him to think about just how the sight of some underwear made him so unimaginably hard but that was just the effect you had on him. he knew he had to be quick considering you were already at the point of conditioning your hair when he got his cock out. holding the panties open in his hand, he smeared a stick line of precum down the center of the pair. pointing his tip at the crotch he made rapid and desperate tugs of his cock.

considering this a test of your obliviousness— steve wanted to see if you’d even recognized the soiled mess he was about to make. he leaned forward against the bathroom door frame, shoulder propping himself up as he dragged the sensitive end of his cock against the clothing you were about to put on. lidded eyes watching your silhouette through the plastic curtain, listening to your pretty hums.

oh fuck— ..

he muttered a mess of whispers, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. it was a wonder you didn’t hear him panting through his end. hot sticky ropes of cum spilling out of his big swollen tip into the clean cotton.

once he’d come down from his high he stood up, bringing his pants back up. he placed the soaked pair of underwear back in their previous position before sneaking back through to his bedroom.

you’d gotten out, went about your business. doing your hair, putting lotion on, then getting dressed. when you pulled the underwear up over yourself you noticed they felt a bit cold against your skin. Not thinking too much of it, you exited the bathroom through your side to go meet steve out in the living room. took a few steps for you to notice the fabric still felt strange. walking out into the open space, you paused in your tracks. steve who was now sitting very awkwardly on the couch noticed the confusion in your face.

“what’s the matter, pumpkin?” he asked, trying to feign cluelessness.

you squished your legs together at his question— feeling the fabric squelch against your pussy made you huff.

“nothing..” you shrugged, going to sit next to him on the couch, “.. think i got my underwear wet when i was getting out of the shower.”

he couldn’t manage a response to what you said, a cough sputtering out of him when he realize he’d gotten away with his perverted behavior. the rest of the night he found himself going over all the things he could do with you that you’d never even know about. making a list in his mind of what he’d planned to do from there. he adored how brainless you were, sitting there with his cum all over you without even giving it a second thought.

#perv!steve #casey writes #brain fuzzy #steve harrington smut

[im-a-marion3tt3]

Zoned out

Tw: sh!!! This work contains graphic depictions of self harm, and mentions dissociating, you have been warned!

It had been a longer tour. Too long in Phantom's opinion. The early mornings and late nights had worn him down into a numb mess. He could even cry regardless if how much he wanted too. Nothing felt quite real any more. And so, Phantom decided to try and fix it the only way he knew how too.

He was sharing a room with Swiss for this keg of the tour rather than his usual Rain or Dewdrop. Phantom didn't mind this necessarily, however, it did mean he had to be far more secretive with his behavior. That's how he found himself locked in the bathroom, shirtless, his back pressed against the cold porcelain of the bath tub. It was the old thing ground him at this point, as well as the cuts that littered his skin.

Having used a small blade, the cuts were neither deep nor long. They were mere through the epidermis to cause a stinging sensation and for him to see the blood dripping down his arms. Phantom had focused mainly on his shoulders and inner biceps, not wanting the fans to catch on to what he had been doing.

Once satisfied with the way he looked, he set the blade down on the lip of the sink but as he did so, everything seemed to slow down, including himself. His vision unfocused as he just kinda stood there unmoving. It was as if his body had shut down for him, freezing him in place and thought. Phantom felt as if he could see him from the outside though nothing was clear. He thought he heard a knock on the door, maybe a voice as well but he wasn't sure and really didn't care. Phantom was ultimately stuck in this odd 3rd person position.

"Fucking hell, -tom," that's when Phantom snapped back, feeling as though he was a rubber band being flicked back into place. "Swiss?" He asked, it being a complete and genuine question as he was confused and stunned. The other ghoul looked at him with cold eyes, tinged with worry, silently asking what was wrong. Phantom did not get the hint though, he was still grappling to see straight meaning he could read the other's expression.

"What is it?" Swiss asked, his voice sounding a little gentler as he moved around the younger ghoul. He had pushed him onto the toilet lid, getting him to sit down so that he could work on him.

"What are you doing?" Phantom questioned stupidly, the wash cloth in Swiss' hand not adding up to him. He still wasn't fully grounded nor was he thinking straight.

"Cleaning you up? Don't worry about it, pretty boy, I got it," Swiss muttered softly as he cleaned the cuts on Phantom's arms, humming a soft ghoulish tune as he did so. Phantom, however, took the comment as an invitation to zone out like he had done before. It was so much easier, albeit a little alarming, to not have to be in his own body.

The next time he smacked back into reality he was tucked into the same bed as Swiss, the ghoul curled around him, letting his hair as he watched TV. It appeared to be some murder documentary that had Swiss' full attention.

"What time is it?" Phantom asked softly, grabbing Swiss' attention.

"A little after ten... You haven't been here for a while though," Swiss said with concern, looking at the younger ghoul questioning. By the way Swiss had pronounced things, Phantom got the point. He had meant that he wasn't here mentally, and the young ghoul was well aware of it.

"Sorry," he whispered, curling into the bigger ghoul a little bit more, "I don't know why I do that." He sounded sad and a little ashamed which simply earned him his back being rubbed by Swiss.

"It's alright, I'm not mad, pretty boy, just concerned," Swiss stated softly, his free hand tiliting Phantom's chin upward so the two were making eye contact.

"So, care to explain, Phantom?"

#ghost #phantom ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #ghost angst #ghost the band #swiss ghoul

[serendipetite]

Gridlock

genre/warnings: slice of life, famous myg, teacher reader, fluff and angst, spats, min yoongi is a little shit. ft. namjoonie best advice giver. no smut.

author’s note: this is just a little slice of life oneshot, mostly for me to get back into the swing of writing again. it’s been forever, and i’m a little rusty so please forgive me.  

word count: 3287

You couldn’t even remember what the fight had been about initially. Probably something petty, something insignificant. But you were both nothing if not stubborn, so what had probably genuinely started out as a mild spat, had quickly turned into the two of you off pouting in separate areas on the apartment, neither one ready to give just yet. To apologize meant to surrender, and maybe it was a bit toxic, but you just couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not yet anyway. Let him stew in it, for a bit. It wasn’t like he was hammering down the door to apologize to you either. 

You decided to settle for some self-care. He’d locked himself in his office working, so why not give yourself the evening. You headed to the bathroom, grabbing your softest robe, lit the candles on the counter, poured some lavender and lilac bubbe bath into the tub, and turned on the hot water. Steam filled the bathroom and the smell of fresh cut lavender and lilacs, as well as soft notes of vanilla and musk flooded your senses. You shed your clothes from the day, relieved to wriggle out of your almost-too tight skinny jeans. Kicking them aside, you dipped into the tub, allowing the hot water to hug you and soothe your aching muscles. It’d been a long day, and you’d been on your feet for most of it. The usual lunch monitor had called in sick, and instead of enjoying your chicken salad in the comfort and quiet of the teacher’s lounge, you had to skip your lunch, and the small moment of reprieve off your aching feet to patrol a cafeteria of about two hundred fifth graders. All you’d wanted to do was come home and relax with him after a long day. Life, and the stubborn shit you were head over heels for, happened to have other plans.

The fight.

It was coming back to you now in moments of keys falling to a table, smells of burnt chicken, and the pulsing sound of blood in your ears. It’d started pretty much the moment he’d walked in the door. He’d asked you what was for dinner, as he’d tossed the keys onto the entry way table. You’d just finished trying a new air fryer recipe — an air fryer recipe that had consisted of chicken burnt to a char on the outside, and raw in the middle. You were never going to fucking trust TikTok recipes again after this. You’d been almost in tears as you’d dumped the ruined chicken into the trash and thrown the air fryer basket in the sink. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you’d said. “Okay…” to his credit, he did seem as though he was trying to read the room a bit. “How about I order us a pizza then?” He’d meandered into the kitchen in time to smell the burnt chicken and his face had pulled into a grimace. “Oh yeah, pizza would be much better.” “We shouldn’t have to order a pizza! I should be able to handle making one simple meal for us!” You’d yelled. Okay…so maybe the common thread here was you. You yelling. You being impatient. You thinking what a horrible home-maker you were and how he deserved much more than burnt chicken or pizza after a long day of work. You’d felt like a complete failure. The TikTok girlies could all successfully make delicious meals for their men after a long day. And sure, you knew Yoongi would never expect you to or require you to do so, but you still wanted to. It was an act of love, in your eyes. An act of love you consistently seemed to fail at. Along with the exhaustion from the day, you were emotionally drained. 

“Okay…” Yoongi had said, “Well, I’m just going to go get some more work done. Let me know what you decide.”

You winced, adding more bubble bath to the tub under the running stream, as you remembered the next moments. 

“Oh yeah, go hide in your office, that’s what you always do!”

Jesus….

“Excuse me? What do you want me to do here, Y/N? I offered to order us pizza, you bit my head off. I can’t just conjure up a meal. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day. Either we’ll order pizza or not. But clearly I’m not being much help standing here right now.”

“Fine, go to your office then.”

“Fine. But at least let me grab a granola bar if dinner is a bust.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“What? What do you want me to do here?” Yoongi had grabbed a granola bar out of the wooden salad bowl that served as your snack food bowl. He rolled his eyes pushing past you to head to the bedroom to change out of his clothes from the day. You’d let yourself get more angry and frustrated as you began to clean up the mess from the ruined chicken. That eye roll and shoulder bump had been the tipping point. You’d found yourself slamming cabinet doors and tossing utensils into the sink when Yoongi had reappeared to grab a soda from the fridge. He too slammed the fridge shut and you’d both glowered at each other. “Whatever!” He’d sighed, tossing his hands up and heading to disappear to his office in the back of the apartment. 

That was two hours ago. Neither one of you made a move to apologize. Now, you felt the stress of the day melt off under the aromas of lilac and lavender, and your mind was left clearer and calmer. You had been a bit harsh. He’d started out just trying to be helpful, and then tried to stay out of your way, clearly sensing you were upset. But then to lock himself away in his office for the past two hours when all you needed was him to hold you after a hard day…everything just felt overwhelming. You wanted to apologize, but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. And it was clear he wasn’t about to apologize either. For  It felt ridiculous and immature. You were both better than this. You both had a stronger relationship than this. But you also knew you were both stubborn as hell and unless somebody did something, you could see this silent treatment carrying over into the next day and the next. You wondered if the two of you still wouldn’t be speaking when you crawled into bed that night. Knowing him, he’d lock himself in that office way after you’d gone to bed, only joining you after you were gone to the world. This was not the night you’d had in mind when you’d been struggling through the day. The only thing that had helped you hold your sanity when stopping Billy Jacobs from flinging peas at Bobby Deaver, and kept you composed when you had to call Aimee Ashar’s mother about her sixth missed homework assignment was getting to come home to Yoongi. You’d imagined the new chicken dish you’d seen on TikTok the night before, eaten off TV trays with you tucked into Yoongi’s side and an episode of Succession playing on TV. You’d imagined him getting up and doing the dishes, and coming back to kiss away the stress of the day.

Now here you were, alone in your bathtub and pouting, feeling like the character in one of the toxic romance novels you kept by your bedside. They were entertaining, okay! But you knew you were nothing like the couples in those books. You and Yoongi were a united front, open and honest at every turn. There was no huge scandal of cheating or divorce looming above your heads. You respected one another and were committed to one another deeply. But you were also both hopelessly stubborn. You knew the two of you would be fine after awhile, after you both had a good pout about it first. The question was, how long was awhile?

After letting yourself soak a few more minute, you stood up, rinsing your body off with the plastic Rainforest Cafe cup you kept on the side of the tub. Wrapping yourself up in your robe and doing your skincare, you decided it was best to head out. You couldn’t just hide out in the tub forever. You were surprised to see Yoongi on the couch when you came out, glass of Johnnie Walker Blue in his hand, and Succession playing on the TV.

What the hell?

“Do I have any hot water left at all for my shower tonight?” He asked, raising a brow. 

“One cold shower won’t kill you. You started Succession?”

“Yeah, wasn’t sure you wanted it to watch it tonight.”

You knew him well enough to know when he was being a petty little shit. It almost made your lip twitch in a smile. Almost. Had he been this snarky with his best friend Namjoon, you might have even had to hold back a giggle. It was an entirely different story when it was directed at you, however. No matter how endearing your pouty little grump of a boyfriend was. 

“Besides,” Yoongi said, lifting the Johnnie Walker to his lips in a poor attempt to hide his own mildly amused smirk, “Logan gives me enough of a headache.”

Your jaw fell open and you had half a mind to smack him with the pillow he was currently hugging to his chest. 

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Shh. This is a good part.”

“I can’t believe you!” 

Yoongi ducked his head behind his pillow, and you knew for sure he was hiding a smile. God you were in love with an absolute menace, weren’t you? You huffed, marching back to the en-suite master bedroom and called the one person who knew how to navigate Yoongi even better than yourself.

“What did he do?” Namjoon said before even saying hello.

“What do you mean?” You frowned, hopping up onto your king size bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and settled in for whatever the heck this conversation was going to be.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re calling because you got into a fight, right? I knew he’d left the studio in a mood! We spent all day working on this damn track only to be told we needed to scrap the whole thing and start over. Yoon was livid. So…what did you two fight about?”

Sighing into the phone, you propped yourself up on your pillow and told Namjoon the entire story. “It wasn’t even like we had an actual fight. It was just…like picking at each other. And now he’s out there watching Succession - after off-handedly comparing me to Logan, mind you, and I’m in here - talking to you…”

“You know this whole thing could be solved if you both just talked, right?”

“I am aware of this, yes.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. He’s not making an effort to talk to me, so I feel like why should I bother if he’s not?”

Namjoon sighed into the receiver, “Y/N, you know Yoongi and I have been friends for almost fifteen years now, right? And there isn’t much in this world I won’t do for him. But he’s being stubborn and so are you, and you both just need to get past this weird ‘I’m not apologizing first’ thing and just rip off the band-aid and be done with it. Silent treatments and awkwardly picking and prodding at each other is not the proper and mature way to handle this, and you know that. He does too. He’s just…pouting. He’d kill me if he heard me say that, but that’s what he does. He pouts. And he gets stroppy and throws his version of a tantrum. You have to sometimes be the bigger person. I know there’s days where I just want to throttle him, but I don’t. Instead, I let him have his space for a bit to cool down, and then I go talk to him. Sometimes that means me apologizing. Sometimes that means me calmly calling him out on his shit. And sometimes that means me just pouring us two glasses of whiskey and telling him he’s gotta listen to this song I found. Just talk to him, Y/N. He’s being a pain, but that’s what he wants. And I’m sure that’s what you want too.”

You knew Namjoon was right. He’d been friends with Yoongi longer than you’d known the two of them. Heck, their friendship had gone longer and survived more than many of your past relationships prior. You knew if there was anyone that knew how to navigate Yoongi and his moods, it was Kim Namjoon. 

“Alright. I guess I’ll head back out there and try to make the peace.”

“Good. And if he gets to be too much of a pain, just call me up and I’ll come over and knock some sense into him.”

“You absolutely would 100% never do that.”

Namjoon laughed into the receiver, “You’re right. But the sentiment stands.”

You thanked him, ended the call, and tossed your phone onto the nightstand. Sighing, you stood from the bed, and decided to put your pajamas on first before heading back out to the living room. This was a conversation you might need to be fully clothed for. After changing into your most comfortable pajama bottoms, you grabbed Yoongi’s discarded under shirt from the hamper. He loved you in his clothes, and wearing his shirts at night was one of your favorite bits of your bedtime routine. You loved being encompassed in him in that way, breathing in the aroma of his cologne and something so distinctly Yoongi —  smoke and musk and fresh rain. You tugged his shirt on over your head, and headed out to the living room. 

Yoongi was still on the couch, Succession long over by now, and a baseball game was now playing on the screen. Yoongi was flicking through his phone, not even glancing up at the television. Taking a breath, you walk over to the couch and sat down on your usual seat beside him, tucking your legs to the side, and leaning close, but not touching. Yoongi still hadn’t glanced up from his phone, thumbs lazily flicking over the screen. There were so many things you wanted to say, had prepared to say, but now, sitting her beside him, your mind seemed blank. You wanted to apologize, wanted him to apologize. Wanted to make this whole mess of a night right. 

“Hi,” you say.

The phone is set aside, placed upside down on the arm of the couch. “Hi.” His arm goes to your shoulders, pulling you to his side. You feel your whole body melt against his, the weight of his arm over your shoulders the comfort you’d longed for all day.

“You know what I’ve realized tonight?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi raised a brow, looking down at you curiously.

“We are both too damn stubborn for our own good.”

His head falls back against the back of the couch as he lets out a laugh. “Babe, please tell me you aren’t just now realizing this.”

You swat at his chest, “I’m being serious. You know, I sat in that bathroom forever expecting you to walk in and apologize.”

“Really? I was sitting out here waiting for you to walk out and explain what the hell happened tonight.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. What a mess.

“We’re a mess.”

“We are,” Yoongi chuckles before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “So, want to tell me what happened tonight? What’s got my baby so upset?”

You tell him everything. You tell him how stressful your day was, and how all you wanted to do was come home to him and have a romantic night with him. You tell him of the TikTok recipe for the chicken, and how it burnt, and how you felt so incredibly useless. You tell him how you snapped at him, how you took out your anger and frustrations onto him, and when all you wanted him to do was to realize you needed him, he retreated. You tell him of sitting in your bubble bath, realizing how it wasn’t fair of you to lash out at him. You tell him how hurt you were that he didn’t come seeking you out. How hurt you were that he didn’t notice how badly in that moment you needed him. And by the time you’ve finished, he’s held you even tighter in his arms, has pressed more kisses into your hair, each one more relevant than the last. 

“Oh baby…I am so, so sorry. I do that sometimes, retreat when things get messy. I wait for the smoke to clear before I come out and make my peace. I do that with everything. My parents. Namjoon. You. And I need to work on that a bit. We’re a partnership, and you needed me tonight. I shouldn’t have disappeared into the office like I did. I shouldn’t have just thrown my hands up and walked away like I did. I’m sorry your day was so stressful, and I’m sorry it’s taken me until now to hold you in my arms and kiss it away.”

“We need to work on our communication skills. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.”

Yoongi nods, pulling you closer to his side. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to brush you aside like that. It’s been a hard day for me too, and that’s no excuse.”

“Tell me about work today,” you say. 

And he does. He tells you about the song he and Namjoon poured so much into, only to be told to scrap the whole thing and start over. He tells you about how frustrated he feels and how terrified he is of failing. He tells you everything from his day, just as you’ve told him everything from yours. And by the end of it, you’re both holding onto one another, pressing kisses into each other’s skin. 

“I can’t believe you watched Succession without me.”

“I can rewind it.”

“And that you pretty much compared me to Logan Roy! Asshole!” You dig your fingers into his side, and he jolts with a start, swatting at your hands before you can strike a second time.

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, and you let the sound echo through you, feeling the rumble of it against your body as he reaches around you to grab for the remote, “That was a pretty low blow, huh?”

“ ‘twas.”

“Tell me how to make it up to you,” his bottom lip juts out at you, eyes going full Bambi.

“You can be in charge of dinner.”

Yoongi stands, pressing another kiss to your head before making his way to the kitchen to scrounge something up. As much as he’d never admit it, he’s magic in the kitchen. And after you queue up the episode, you lean back against the couch to watch him putter around the kitchen. He talks to himself as he sets out ingredients and gets to work. This is one of his love languages, preparing a meal for someone he loves. He’s meticulous about it as well, putting such care into every movement. You feel your heart swell as he carefully begins to rinse the vegetables in the sink softly humming one of the songs he’d written you months ago, and before he can even set the veggies on the towel to dry, you’re there, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“I changed my mind,” you say., pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.  “We’ll make dinner tonight together.”

#bts imagines #yoongi imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #interlude writes

[samsexualdeancurious]

Enough Hope Left

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2,072

Summary: Sam and Y/N have been trying to have a kid but without much success.

Warnings: Married Sam x Reader, fertility issues and light discussion.

Written for an Archangel Patron request.

---

Three tests. Three little windows.

Three negative results.

“Y/N” Sam starts but you’re already pushing past him on your way out of the bathroom. You have to get out. You have to be away from him.

You almost collide with Dean in the hallway but ignore his questions as you continue on your way. Your eyes are already pricking with tears and you need to go somewhere - anywhere - you won’t be seen as you cry your heart out. The tears aren’t going to wait, though. They’re coming on hard and fast and fuck.

Not pregnant. Still.

Fuck. Everything.

You never thought you would be the kind of person to cry over a negative pregnancy test and yet here you are, frantically wiping tears from your cheeks as you lock your bedroom door behind you. You can hear Sam banging on it, calling your name, as you throw yourself onto the bed. A locked door won’t keep him out if he really puts his mind to it but you know Sam. he’ll respect your need for space and probably be sitting against the wall, waiting for you, when you finally emerge.

With that knowledge in mind, you clutch Sam’s pillow to your chest and sob.

It’s been almost two years since you and Sam decided to start trying but nothing has changed in that time. You’ve probably spent a fortune on pregnancy tests and at-home fertility remedies and nothing. Not one single thing has worked. Being a hunter, you don’t really have other options and you’re starting to run out of hope. It’s not like you can just set an appointment with a fertility specialist or adopt a kid. Your fake insurance probably wouldn’t hold up well enough for that. Plus, Sam doesn’t even have a legit form of identification seeing as he’s legally dead at least twice over. You’re out of options.

Maybe you’re just destined to never have a kid and you need to accept that fact. Knowing that and actually accomplishing it, though, are two completely different tasks and you’re not really sure you’re capable of either.

Sure enough, Sam is seated on the floor by the bedroom door with his long knees folded up to his chest. He lifts his head when you open the door and your heart breaks all over again at the sight of his tear-reddened eyes. You forget, in the depth of your own pain, that Sam is hurting, too. He wants this just as much as you do, you know he does.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, sinking to the floor beside him.

Sam shakes his head and loops one arm around your shoulders to pull you close. “I just… I wish there was something more I could do.”

You burrow into Sam’s side with a sniffle and a little shrug. “I don’t think there’s really anything else we can do.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll think of something. A spell, a charm…”

No. Using magic to get pregnant sounds like a terrible idea. “Sam-”

“Let me and Rowena do the research, okay? There has to be something out there-”

“Sam.”

His mouth snaps closed and you lift one hand to cradle his cheek.

“Sam,” you say again. “I’m not using magic. Don’t even go there. It’s not an option for me and never will be. Just leave it, okay?”

“But-”

“Leave it. Sam, please.” You draw him in for a soft kiss. You can feel how desperate he is to fix this for you, to make everything right in the world and give you exactly what you want, but you can’t do this. Not right now. “I can’t do this right now.”

Sam hesitates and then gives a small nod of accent.

“Thank you.” You kiss him once more before pushing yourself to your feet and heading for the kitchen to get started on dinner.

---

To say things are awkward would be an understatement. Neither you nor Sam know what to say for a few days. You’re trying to decide how best to deal with the possibility that you might never have a baby of your own. At the same time, you know Sam is still looking for other solutions. He’s just doing it when you’re not around to see, in the hopes that you’ll come to him when you’re ready for other options. He’ll be prepared if you do. Unfortunately for him, you’re determined not to. Magic is not a solution you’re comfortable with, never will be, and it’s the only one left.

In the meanwhile, Dean’s just dancing around in the middle, even more at a loss for how to help the situation.

“Oh-kay,” he proclaims loudly on the third morning, while you and Sam are making breakfast and avoiding more than the most basic conversation the same way you have every morning. “You two.” He points at you and Sam.

You arch one brow at him in confusion. “Yes?”

“Come here.”

He gestures to the two seats across the table from him. You exchange a quick look with Sam, who just shrugs. You both take the indicated seats.

Dean fixes you with an intense glare, eyes darting between the two of you. Sam shifts uncomfortably.

“Okay,” Dean says. “I don’t know what’s going on and it’s not really any of my business. I’m here to listen if you need it but what I need is the two of you to get your shit together and have a conversation. Do you think you can do that?”

Sam is staring down at his lap and doesn’t respond. You’re not really sure what to say, either.

Dean crosses his arms with a sigh. “Do you need me to mediate or something?”

Fuck no. You’re not dragging your brother-in-law into this shit. “No, we - we’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we’ll…” you shoot a reluctant glance at Sam. “We’ll sort it out.”

You don’t really want to have this conversation right now but thanks to Dean, you’re not really going to have a choice.

“Right.” Dean slaps his hands, open-palmed, on the tabletop. “Let me know how it goes.”

He gets up then, taking his half-eaten cereal bowl with him, and suddenly it’s just you and Sam, sitting awkwardly side-by-side and trying to decide what to say.

“Y/N,” he starts.

Nope. You can’t do this.

You’re on your feet before you think too hard about it, headed for the counter to continue making breakfast. You forgot to turn the stove off when Dean decided to have his little intervention and the pan is ready for eggs, butter sizzling. You pour the scrambled egg mixture in and dig a spatula from the drawer to stir with.

Behind you, you hear the shuffle of Sam standing. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!”

You don’t turn to look at him, keeping your attention on the eggs in front of you. “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

Sam is still for a minute, breathing slowly in a way that tells you he’s really frustrated but doesn’t want to fuck this up. He’s surprisingly well-adjusted, sometimes, especially considering his upbringing. Winchester men are not known for their ability to talk about their feelings.

You hear his footsteps as he crosses the room and then his solid warmth is pressed against your back, his hands gliding up your forearms. A shiver runs through you at the contact. It’s the most intimate you’ve been in days. “Y/N,” he says softly. “We have to talk about this at some point.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”

Silence falls between you as you finish cooking the scrambled eggs and scrape them onto a plate. You’re not feeling very hungry anymore but skipping breakfast is never a good idea. When you try to step out of Sam’s hold, though, he doesn’t let go.

“Sam-”

“Y/N, please. Just listen to me?”

You frown down at your steaming eggs but don’t move again or protest.

Sam draws a deep breath and his arms curl around your waist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now. You’re hurting and I’ll never understand how much, but you’re not alone in this. I’m here and I want this just as much as you do.”

“We’ve tried everything,” you mutter. “We need to just let it go. We can keep trying but I think… I think we need to stop getting our hopes up.”

“But here’s the thing. I want to get your hopes up. I know you told me to leave it but I did some digging.”

“I’m not using magic,” you interject and he shakes his head, ducking down to press his face into the curve of your shoulder. “I won’t go that route. It always ends badly and someone pays the price.”

“Not magic,” he says. “I promise. Just good old science. I found a doctor that specializes in this stuff and has a side practice catering to hunters.”

Your brain grinds to a screeching halt, struggling to process what he’s just told you. It seems impossible. Finding doctors that accept hunter patients is already so rare and most of them work out of back rooms, providing sketchy services only the most desperate will pay for. “... what?”

“She’s down in Arizona, so it’s a bit of a drive, but if you want to give this a real shot…?”

He sounds so hopeful, so eager.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll work.” He’s so sure of this and he hasn’t even met the doctor yet.

“Sam.” You turn to face him at last. “I don’t think I’ve got much hope left.”

“That’s okay.” He brings both hands up to cradle your face and his sincerity causes tears to blur your vision. You swallow down the sudden swell of emotion. “I think I’ve got enough hope left for the both of us.”

That’s too much. A sob breaks free before you can stop it and you’re being bundled into Sam’s embrace, your face buried in the soft blue flannel he’s wearing. He holds you close and makes soothing sounds until you’re all cried out. He doesn’t let go even when your shoulders stop shaking.

“We can do this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Together, right? For better, for worse, all that stuff?”

You manage a little nod, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Yeah. All that stuff.”

Sam chuckles and kisses you gently. “Good. We can sit down later and set up an appointment with this doctor. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah.” It’s a good plan.

“All right. Would you like toast with your eggs?”

“Toast would be perfect.”

Sam kisses you again and steps away to get to work on said toast. You stand there a moment longer, still processing everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes.

You could have a baby.

Dean chooses that moment to return, carefully poking his head around the doorframe. “All good in here?”

“All good,” Sam says. “Asshole.”

“Hey, I just wanna be able to eat breakfast in peace. My methods work!”

You flip Dean the bird but he just laughs. Zero remorse. What a dick. His methods did work, though. You’ll give him that much.

---

Doctor Kimberly is a dark-haired, bright-eyed woman with a smile that lights up her whole face and a laugh you could hear from the waiting room. She greets you with a firm handshake.

“Sam Winchester,” she says cheerfully. “Never thought I’d see you in my office. Come in, come in, sit down and tell me what’s been going on.”

She listens patiently as you detail your pregnancy struggles up to this point, nodding and never once criticizing your choices even though you’re sure you must have made some bad ones at some point along the way.

“All right,” she says when you’re done. “First off, let me tell you - you’re far from the first couple to struggle with this and you won’t be the last, either. There are lots of options to look at going forward. To decide where to start, though, we need to run a lot of tests. Are you up for that?”

“We’re up for anything,” you say, with more conviction than you’re feeling at the moment but just being here is going a long way towards getting you on board with this plan. “Where do we start?”

—

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #sam x reader #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester/reader

[galaxywhump]

Thunderstorm

[An Immortal Among Stars Masterlist]

Alternate prompt for Day 4 (Captivity Whump) of @whumpawoman's Whump Girl Summer event.

contents: lady whump, immortal whumpee, past captivity, death, starvation, isolation.

~~~

Karita woke up to new sounds.

Well, maybe not entirely new. She knew this sound, but she hadn't heard it in ages. Maybe it was a sound from an era long passed, like many. It was always startling to realize that some sounds and smells and flavors had disappeared completely after being present in her life for years, but… this sound was different. She could swear she used to hear it constantly, no matter the decade.

She pushed herself up from the couch and immediately stumbled. She felt weak, which was nothing new - she was starving, she was going to die soon, come back to life feeling marginally better, and the cycle would be repeated. At least she had access to water; she’d gotten used to the odd earthy taste, and it was her lifesaver, a way to temporarily cheat her hunger pangs.

The sounds continued, rhythmic tapping outside, and they filled her mind with longing for home, even though she hadn't had one in ages. She refused to call this prison home.

Looking around, she saw the same thick white fabric she'd always seen, a lounge, a kitchenette which had been stocked with food at some point, but she couldn't even remember what that was like. There were also hatches leading to two bathrooms and two bedrooms with bunk beds, but she'd decided to sleep in the lounge instead. Being the only person in a bedroom meant for eight people made her feel even more lonely than usual. Besides, most of the time she had been chained to her bunk at night. That was never pleasant, and not something she wanted to mentally go back to.

The tapping continued, but the dull pounding in her head made it hard to think. Her steps shaky, she walked over to the sink to drink some water. It helped, a little bit, and when she turned it off and watched the stream get thinner and thinner until it turned into occasional dripping, her eyes went wide with realization, confirmed by the unmistakable roar of thunder.

It was raining. It was storming.

Momentarily overcoming her weakened state, she ran towards the exit of the domed tent. The wait for the door to open felt endless, and she wasted no time getting outside and looking up at the sky.

The rain on her face felt incredible, refreshing and so new after the grim routine of the past several years. She opened her mouth to catch some raindrops, and for the first time in ages she couldn’t help but smile. The rain tasted so different to the water she usually drank, the barren planet was suddenly more alive, the rain mixing with the omnipresent dust, the temperature brought down slightly. Karita's heart was beating fast with excitement and joy, and she foolishly wanted to get lost in it, having forgotten what rain meant here, why she hadn't heard it in so long.

When she remembered, she couldn’t breathe.

"It only rains here every fifty years or so. That's why we need this bad boy." Zax slapped the machinery set on the ground, which was already hard at work, digging deep to reach the water reserves hidden far below the surface. "This and the condenser. Without them we'd be fucked."

"And when was the last time it rained here?" 

"Three months ago. Talk about unlucky."

"Fifty years," she whispered. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees, her eyes still fixed on the sky. "Fifty fucking years."

Forty-nine years on her own.

"Wake up! Wake up, you bastard!"

He never did, and neither did any other member of the crew. She remembered kneeling there among corpses, too shocked to cry. That would come later, way later, when no one answered her SOS signal, when she realized she was eventually going to run out of food, when she scanned the planet and confirmed that there was no-one and nothing else there, just dust, rocks, and a single base camp of people working under the radar.

She never lost hope, she sent signal after signal, arranged rocks in a cry for help, their sharp edges cutting her hands, but as more and more time passed, her hope slowly grew dimmer.

Forty-nine years. Who knew how many more to come.

Her tears mixed with the raindrops on her face, and her scream, several decades’ worth of pent up grief, was drowned out by the thunder.

#waw2023 #whumpgirlsummer #captivity whump #lady whump #immortal whumpee #death #starvation #oc: karita #oc: zax #my writing #honestly i'm having a lot of fun writing this #maybe i just missed writing shorter stories #idk just wanted to share

[obitv]

revenant are soooo important you dont get it. both of them are a MESS theyre disasters completely and totally theyre head over heels for eachother but theyre also 17 and have abysmal social skills so they dont kow what theyre doing ever. and also theyre both cursed by the supernatural so theyre trying to deal with that And figure out teen romance. theyre doing so horribly. william does the thing again where he tries to hold ashes hand and he just fucking goes through them. ashe tries to cuddle with him but then the book manifests directly in between them. they try to do they thing where will lights a cigarette for ashes with his own while they both have them in their mouths (you know what i mean) but a) i doesnt work like at all and b) ashe does not know how to smoke and ends up coughing her lungs up and william feels horrible about it. ashe tries to help william dye his roots black to cover the white streaks but she gets flustered and spills it everywhere and they have to spend forever trying to clean the bathroom sink. do you see the vision. neither of them is entirely sure if the other is into them because theyre both That socially awkward and william Is a little bit in love with all his teammates and god theyre such disasters. but sometimes things go right for a little bit and they get to go for a walk and hold hands and ignore the fact william is icy cold and ashe has a fucking book trailing after them like a lost puppy and its really nice

#theyre so important. oh my #mypost #revenant

[shamelesskimchifiend]

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐤𝐝𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

These are for y'all who can't dedicate to 100+ pages but still want that juicy, spicy, immerseful shit.

Like always, in order of favs and nothing I rec is shit.

ALL TOP BAKU OR SWITCH

Crybaby by lalazee

Pro heroes AU - Phone sex operator baku, Customer deku - Explicit

That awkward moment when you have phone sex with your childhood best friend and neither of you realize who is on the other end. A love story.

Fuck me I'm writing this atm and now suddenly have the urge to reread this all over again. I (and thank the lord) stumbled upon this god's-gift of a fic when I was forced to rewatch the new spider man movie again days after just watching it for the first time. Disclaimer: I am not a spiderman hater just an impatient twat. Anyways, if your new to fanfiction like I wish I was, and still have ALL THE OPTIONS IN THE WORLD cause you haven't greedily read every bkdk fic on the planet (me) then you're probably hesitant cause the concept of the fic is a bit whack, right? WRONG! Reading this fic was probs one of the best choices I ever made, which isn't saying much at all! But thats not the point. If you want delicious spice and sexy seductive bakugou with adorable but hot deku then this is the one for you.

Bluebird by EtherealBeing

No quirks AU - Stranger baku, Poet deku - Explicit

Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact.

However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

If you haven't heard of this before, get off this page.

Thank u, next!

It's Okay Because It's You by suffocatingspring

Pro heroes AU - Hanahaki baku, Pining deku - Explicit

Katsuki’s first encounter with his own hanahaki came right at the end of their 2nd year at UA, and as he stands over the ceramic sink, he thinks "Of course the petals are green. What else could they have fucking been." Green, like his hair. Green, like his eyes. That shitty ner- "Kacchan?" The devil in question peeked his head through the bathroom door, voice laced with concern, "Is everything okay?" Of course it's not, Katsuki thinks. But ultimately, all he could do was nod, "I'm fine."

OR: Deku and Ground Zero are now Pro-Heroes, 2 years in the industry going strong, but how long can Katsuki ignore the flowers he's coughing up before it's too late. How long can Izuku pine after the former silently until it's too late?

Only hanahaki I ever read, only one I probs ever will. Love the way suffocatingspring writes but their depiction of deku is still a bit too fragile for my liking but wtvs I'm not complaining when they're doing all the work. Anyways, solid fic and its nice and slow burn but not really and steamy and so so angsty and yeah.

K-9 by warschach

Shapeshifters AU - Dog hybrid baku, Human deku - Explicit

Izuku takes in a stray on one rainy night, except it's not a dog, it's a dog shifter who goes by the name, Katsuki. After the initial wave of panic and embarrassment, Izuku thinks his new pet/roommate is pretty cute.

Now before anyone says this shit is furry, It really ain't. Just like a/b/o, I always avoided fics with any sort of shifter/hybrid/merman fics but alas, with age comes maturity and matured I have. Anyways, I really liked this. I thought it was pretty funny, good banter, top baku, flustered mess deku so ticks pretty much all my boxes. Definitely made one of my miserable nights less miserable.

I lied, here are some 100-300 pages fics that I still wanted to rec cause they are worth the read but aren't good enough to belong in the God Tier.

Intersecting Lines by roadtripwithlucifer

Canonverse - Idiot baku, Just as much of an idiot deku - Explicit

Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou aren’t really friends. But they’ve also never been apart. When Izuku takes a job in the U.S. for the last 6 months of their high school career, the boys start to re-evaluate what they mean to one another. Is their fate just to be intersecting lines – meet once, then drift apart forever?

OOOkay so I have some things to say about this one. I wish I could remember more of it so I could give you more reason to read it but honestly I couldn't even tell myself why I liked it so much. I've got a personal google doc which my only comment for this fic when I read it was "I just creamed" so if thats anything to go by...

I ditched this fic in the middle because bakugou got all pussy and I hate when he pulls that shit so I couldn't read on, but then I picked it back up in the future and bakuno became bakuhoe and fucked the brains out of izuku so I let it slide. All I really remember was them having hot phone sex, maddening sexual tension, funny banter and a good underlying plot too. So read it, maybe?

The Spell in Her Name by Merrywetherweather

Pro heroes AU - Makeshift housewife baku, Dad deku - Explicit

Bakugou Katsuki returns home to Japan after his 3 year contract runs out with his agency in America. Unfortunately, the house he had contracted to be built by the time he got back has had a few setbacks and his closest friend, Kirishima, just shacked up with Ashido. Rather than live in a hotel for another month, he tries to crash at Deku's place. He arrives at his door uninvited.

But Katsuki wasn't expecting Deku to already be living with someone.

An adoptive child au where Deku took in and raised a little girl someone left on his doorstep. 

Let me just establish one thing: I fucking hate the single dad trope. Now let me re-establish one thing: I fucking hated the single dad trope, until I read this fic. I know its a good one when I genuinely laugh out loud and boy did this fic have me cackling. Bakugou was nice, cocky and confident and knew how to get his sweet little deku flustered like it was his goddamn job. Hot. Ultimately cute fic: pretty good banter and characterisation!

#bakudeku #bakudeku fic #bkdk fic recs #bkdk fanfic

[windfighter]

Just a small accident

Prompt: Bloody clothes

------

The door to the apartment opened and closed. Kouichi looked up from the book he’d been working with and looked at the clock. 10:30. He frowned. Izumi wasn’t supposed to be home for another 6 hours, and Kouji was still out somewhere on the countryside. He put a bookmark in the book before standing up.

He listened by the door. Someone shuffled through the living room. They groaned. Kouichi’s stomach hurt. What was going on? He grabbed the door handle, hesitated. Something soft fell to the floor and another door opened and closed. Kouichi swallowed before opening the door to the living room.

Clothes had been carelessly dropped on the floor. Kouichi’s frown deepened. Neither he nor Izumi would do something like that. Was Kouji back? He hadn’t said anything, last time they talked it sounded like Kouji was going to be gone for another two weeks. He picked up the first piece of clothing. A sweater that looked suspiciously like one of Kouji’s. It was covered in red stains and Kouichi pulled a sharp breath. Blood.

”Kouji?” he asked.

There was another groan from the bathroom. Something was wrong, Kouichi was certain. He picked up the rest of the clothes. All of them were torn and bloody and Kouichi winced in imagined pain. He knocked on the bathroom door.

”Kouji?” he asked again.

”Ow! Fuck!”

Kouji. Kouichi opened the door and stepped inside. Kouji stared at him.

”Why are you home?”

Kouichi stared back. Kouji was scraped and bruised, dirt and gravel stuck in the wounds. Blood traced along the side of his face. He had placed his right arm on a towel on the laundry machine. It was bent where it wasn’t supposed to and Kouichi could see bone poking through the skin. He dropped the clothes and turned around. His stomach made a somersault.

”I’m calling an ambulance.”

”Just help me set it.”

”I’m not helping you set a compound fracture. You’re an idiot.”

He grabbed the phone. Kouji cried out in pain again.

”Stop trying to set it!” Kouichi yelled. ”What happened?”

He turned towards Kouji again. Kouji was paler, looked to be on the verge of passing out. Kouichi started dialing the emergency number and walked back into the bathroom. He stopped next to Kouji, who leaned against him.

”A fucking idiot ran into the street”, Kouji answered. ”Had to swerve and the bike fell over.”

”Why did I let you leave?”

”Not like you could have stopped me.”

Kouji’s voice was stable, but Kouichi knew him well enough to be able to pick up the slight frailness of it. The pain Kouji was trying to hide. He pressed the phone to his ear, hoped they would answer.

”And you didn’t call for an ambulance because…?” he asked.

”You’re a doctor.”

Kouji shrugged, but there was a slight shiver in his voice. A weakness Kouichi absolutely hated to hear.

”A student, Kouji. I’m still studying. You are an absolute moron.”

Someone finally picked up. Kouichi explained the situation, tried to not let his own panic shine through. He squeezed Kouji’s shoulder as he talked. Kouji took a shaky breath. Shivered. Kouichi ended the call, put the phone on the sink and rubbed Kouji’s arms to get some warmth into them.

”They’ll be here in 15 minutes”, he said. ”Why did you undress?”

”Was gonna shower”, Kouji mumbled.

He sounded way to close to drifting off and Kouichi didn’t like that. He grabbed a bathrobe and hung it over Kouji’s shoulders. Kouji put his uninjured arm through the sleeve of it, but left the other lying on the towel. The towel was completely drenched in blood already. Kouichi shook his head, swallowed down the worry that churned in his stomach and made him nauseous.

”Glad I caught you before you fainted in the shower”, he said. ”Stay here, I’ll pack some stuff for you.”

”I’m not staying there”, Kouji protested.

”Which one of us is the doctor?” Kouichi asked.

Kouji snorted and put his head in his hand.

”Student”, he corrected.

Kouichi also snorted, then turned his back to Kouji.

”They’ll keep you a couple of days. I’ll pack a bag for us.”

”You’re coming with me?”

”Of course.”

Kouichi smiled and walked out of the bathroom. He grabbed his backpack, emptied it onto the couch before filling it with a change of clothes for both himself and Kouji. He also packed his laptop and one of his books so he’d be able to study while keeping Kouji company. He put his cellphone in his pocket before returning to Kouji.

Kouji was pale as a ghost, a big pool of blood under his arm and the towel unable to soak up any more of it. Kouichi knelt infront of Kouji.

”Hey”, he whispered.

Kouji blinked. It took a few seconds before he managed to focus on Kouichi.

”Might… pass out…” he whispered.

”I know.”

Kouichi should have asked them to hurry, but it was too late now. He had misjudged just how bad the bleeding was, how close Kouji’s body was to going into shock. He put a hand on Kouji’s knee and squeezed.

”Try to stay awake until they get here. Then you can sleep.”

Kouji nodded. Kouichi took a shaky breath and clenched his hand around the backpack. Seven more minutes until the ambulance would arrive. He hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

#windy writes #digimon frontier #whump #kouji minamoto #kouichi kimura #hurt kouji #blood and injury #broken bones #I have another 3000 words writter for this but I was getting tired of it and it went away from me completely #so decided to just upload the first part #anyway enjoy some idiot kouji :3