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the-therapist-is-ace · 1 year

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Bendy?

(Here's a little something that I wrote after BATDR. I feel like everyone was thinking the same as I did when we saw Bendy Benders and the twist at Chapter 4 x)

So naturally SPOILERS! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE!

Here's a VERY self-indulgent thing, with a self-insert -or is it a Bendy insert?- Also disclaimer, English isn't my mother tongue so I'm sorry if there's grammatical errors ^^')

"{...} It was delightful to see such progress. The Ink Demon will stay in this small form indefinitely."

"THESE SON OF A BITCH!"

You slam your fist in anger on your desk. The new game had his downsides, but its also had its qualities, and one of them was definitely the little cute Perfect Bendy (called Baby Benders by the fandom) that followed you around in the city at the beginning of the fourth chapter.

He was just a cute little thing that tried to help, and was easily scared.

Well, or so you thought until getting to the GENT building entrance; seeing the Ink Demon morph into Baby Bendy was... something. You half-expected it -there have been theories after all- but seeing it was another thing entierly.

Anyway, after seeing the toon run away -again- you decided to explore the building. After an encounter with the Keepers (they were fucking creepy you decided after seeing and most importantly hearing them) you found tapes talking about experiences run on the Ink Demon.

The Keepers had tried many things before being able to shrink the demon in his toon form; torture mostly. But what you just heard was different: they admitted that they continu to torture him even when they got him into his weaker state. ENJOYED his screams of pain and tears of ink. And probably continued until the poor thing run away.

To make things worst you can't even hurt them with your pipe and are forced to hide away from their sight. Fuckers.

Anyway, now you are insulting the Keepers and Wilson for what they've done to an innocent guy like him; this isn't the Ink Demon. They said it themselves; he's much more timid in this state, and you saw through the game that he was mostly scared and trying to be helpful, nothing more.

Even then, the Ink Demon technically wasn't bad until Joey started to abuse him; the audio log said as much. At first he was merely roaming around, mostly confused. And yes he may have scared a person or two with his appearance, but it's not like he could do something about it. That wasn't his fault. (RIGHT JOEY? You and your goddamn "just a pencil and a dream" bullshit.)

Now you were officially an Ink Demon apologetic, congratulations for joining us. We have cookies over here and Sammy will play you a tune on the banjo as a welcome. (speaking of which where the fuck is he and the main cast? You haven't seen any of them since the beginning of the game! -asides from a quick cameo of Allisson and Boris in the first Chapter-)

All of that just to say: you were pissed.

Pissed at the Keepers and Wilson that hurted and traumatized so horribly a creature that techincally didn't do anything wrong.

So pissed in fact, that you haven't noticed that your computer was starting to overheat from the numerous hours in a row of playing. (you don't have a gamer computer) So pissed that you even throw a punch at your screen because a Keeper just found you and you needed to evacuate your frustration before getting a game over screen.

So pissed that you didn't see the wave of electricity passing from the game to your hand until you felt it.

"Goddamn piece of shit I'll fucking DESTROY YOU- OW FUCK!"

You wince as you jerk your hand away from the screen in a hurry. The screen is fractured, and your computer shut itself on the impact.

Well looks like I'm good to buy another one. you think bitterly.

However, you quickly forget this when you hear a sound of something falling on the ground in the room next to your bedroom: the living room.

That wouldn't have been a problem if you weren't living alone for at least two years.

And you didn't had guests come over today.

Game and destroyed computer completely forgotten now, you slowly shut your computer off and silently got up. As quietly as possible you go to the living room, phone in hand and the police's number ready to be called. And...

Nothing.

There wasn't anyone in the living room. You frown. You're sure that you heard something! And you don't have pets, you're allergic. You don't have neightbors upon or below you as well so it can't be that either.

"Is someone there?" no response.

No response but a little squeaking noise. You smirked. Got you!

And well, you can't help it. You were just playing BATDR so you allow yourself a quote from its predecessor.

"I know you're in here! Come up and show yourself." Let just hope that whatever it is, it's as friendly as Boris is... you think to yourself.

Silence once again. You hear another noise, this time a shuffling one. Is the thing hiding behind the curtains or under the sofa? It must be quite small then. But wait, if it's small and didn't attacked... Perhaps it's frightened? Then...

"You can come out... I won't hurt you. you say in a much gentler voice and crouched down. I promise."

Is an animal even going to understand me? you ponder before hearing another shuffling noise. It looks like it really is a scared pet and not a robber.

Reassured, you get up put your phone on the table -you don't want to scare it even more with a thing in your hand- and turned back to-

Oh.

You pause. You blink several times to do a double take. You even pinch yourself to be sure that you aren't dreaming. But nope, no matter what you do, you still see the same thing.

Bendy.

In front of you.

Who just got out of hiding under the sofa.

Okay this is it; I lost it. you decide. I have fucking hallucinations now. Great. Awsome. What's the number of the nearest psychiatric hospital?

"Bendy" doesn't say anything -not that he could talk in the game in his toon form- and just continu to look at you with clear hesitation and fear in his eyes.

After doing a staring contest -in which you were FREAKING THE FUCK OUT INTERNALLY- for several minutes, the facts of the situation catches up to you. This is Baby Bendy. A toon that -from what you've just learned- only knows pain, torture, fear and disgust until Audrey came along. And is now in a completely new environnement, with someone that he doesn't know and who's way taller and stronger than him.

And upon remembering that, your resolution disolved.

You know what? Screw it. Even if it's an hallucination... you scrouch down once more in front of him.

In response, he take a step back. Like when he met Audrey... You gulped and try to put a smile on your face.

"Hey... Bendy right?"

Upon hearing his name, the toon take another step back. Yeah that's fair. you think, remembering the blasted recordings.

"I'm sorry if I scared you... you trailed off, not really knowing what to say. I thought there was a robber in my house."

"Bendy" shake his head and put his hands before him like at the begining of chapter four when he met Audrey again. You smile at that.

"Oh so you aren't trying to rob me? you say in an amused tone and smiled even more upon seeing him shaking his head again. Awsome. But then, what are you doing here?"

He seems to think for a bit, before shaking his head again.

"Don't have a clue uh? another shake. Well that makes two of us..."

He doesn't seems too bothered by it, you noticed. Then again, he've seen crazier things... And deadlier things.

You cringed at the thought. However, you quickly smile back at the little devil when he tilt his head to the side in confusion.

"It's nothing little guy. you assure him. I just... didn't expected that I guess. you shrugged. But I'm not complaining! you quickly add to not make him feel bad. Just... I have a living toon that just appeared in my living room now."

He doesn't seem to know how to respond to that, so he just doesn't. Continu to stare at you with his big, pie cut eyes.

Well... He sure as hell won't hurt me. And he's scared and confused... I can't leave him like that can I?

You slowly reach out to him with your hand. As expected, he take another step back, and another, until he's cornered by the sofa. At that he looks up to you with ink-tears at the border of his eyes out of fear and you feel your heart shatter.

"Hey- hey come on, I promise I won't hurt you... you spin your hands so that he can see you don't have anything in -or on- them. See? I don't have anything. And no ink either. I won't hurt you... please?"

It definitely takes longer than with Audrey (then again it's happening afterwards... and he got hurt.) but little by little, he take a step forwards. Then another. And then he hesitantly stretch his hand to touch yours. You smile at that and gently squeeze it.

"See? It doesn't hurt does it?"

He shake his head and show his trademark smile afterwards. The ink-tears are nowhere to be seen. He take another step forwards and then before you knows it he's reaching for your other hand.

You blink at that; you didn't expected him to make another move so quickly. But then you remember; he was really quick to forgive Audrey too, despite the fact that she hurt him.

He's desesperate for affection. you realized.

Now you're the one that risk to cry at any moment. But you shove them off and smiled again -it's starting to hurt but you don't care- and gently, oh so gently you take his other hand.

"There we go little guy." you say softly.

Bendy seemed content with the contact for a while (you're almost certain that you can hear him purr and ohmygod it's so CUTE!) before he starts to move again.

He's moving both of yours arms up, and down, and on the sides and- oh.

He's trying to dance. you realized.

Of course. He's called "The dancing demon" why wouldn't know how to? You laugh softly, earning his attention. You grin.

"May I have this danse, Bendy?"

Upon hearing those words, you can see Bendy beam and his pie cut eyes have stars in them. (it's SO GODDAMN CUTE-) He nod several times, clearly happy and starts to guide you in a dance that you never heard of -probably was popular in the 1930's giving Bendy's creation period- for several minutes.

You let him guide you for a while before he suddenly stops, a growling sound can be heard. He let go of your hand to hide his face in -you suppose- embarassment.

"You're hungry little guy? you say with a smile. It's okay, I can prepare you something-"

You stop. He just looked at you with so much hope in his eyes that it hurts to look at. Then you realize another thing.

Of course. Those bastards certainly didn't give him anything to eat. He's a toon, he probably doesn't need to survive... But. you look at him once more. He can feel hunger too. In the cartoons, they eat as well... and food in the studio is not easy to get when you're his size-

Oh god when was the last time he ate?

Now's not the time to get lost in your thoughts though. You stopped walking and Bendy is looking at you with concern. You shake your head and smile at him.

"I'm okay little guy. So! Up to the kitchen we go!" you say, trying to sound enthousiastic.

In there, you help Bendy sit on one of your chair -the poor thing was too little to actually reach it- and get to work. You tried to remember what he ate in the comics that were released after BATIM and you remembered that he snagged away an apple pie. But you don't have the ingredients... But then you remember that he ate some smashed potatoes in those same comics.

You can do that, you have potatoes. With some sausages too, good thing you went groceries shopping this morning. Decided, you start cooking.

"Here you go Bendy. Careful, it's hot." you say fifteen minutes later as you put the plate in front of the little devil darling.

You try not to chuckle at the obvious droll he show. He really is like a little kid -and eating like one too. You will have to clean after he's done- but for now you don't care.

He's eating like someone will come and snatch the plate out of his arms. you noticed with a pinch of sadness.

Gently, you put a hand on his shoulder. He immediatly tense and look at you with fear.

Oh god I'm going to cry before the end of the day. you think upon feeling tears again rising but you quickly blink to make them go away.

You smiled at him before putting your hand off.

"Don't eat so quickly buddy, you're going to be sick. No one's going to steal your plate okay?" you say instead.

The little toon looked at you with bewilderment before turning to his plate and resume eating- but slower this time. Another smile.

"There we go. You're doing great Bendy."

At the compliment he beams, and finish eating while you're struggling internally to not cry in front of him because of all the implication of such a reaction for a simple compliment-

He's done quickly though. So you're putting off the plate, fork and knife -with a round-end, you were careful about that- before thinking. Bendy never really had a treat since when he was pull from the cartoon world right? Then...

"Say Bendy, how does a desert sound?"

You expected the stars in his eyes but seeing them doesn't pull your heartstrings less. You smile.

"I have some fruits, some yogurt... Oh wait. I think I have something that you will enjoy."

You get to the kitchen quickly, put the dishes in the sink, then go to the fridge. Open it, and smile. You intended to eat it for dinner but there's someone else here that will surely please your unexpected guest.

You come back moments later with a slice of chocolate cake on a little plate and a spoon.

Of course, upon seeing that, you can see the stars in the little devil darling's eyes once again. They only grew bigger when you actually put the plate in front of him.

"Here you go buddy. Hope you'll like it."

You don't have time to finish your sentence that he's already eating it. You chuckle softly. You knew he was going to like it.

Once he's done, you put him off the chair.

"Alright little guy, I have to wash the dishes, then... we can do whatever you want. Sounds good?"

Bendy nodded, and put a thumb up. Another smile -you're really starting to feel a pain for smiling so much but you don't care- and you're back to the kitchen to wash said-dishes. Although... You notice that Bendy followed you here. You don't make a comment but it's clear that he doesn't want to be alone.

Once it's done, you're left wondering. You don't really have toys here, you live alone and don't have kids... So how are you going to entertain the little toon? Then you remember.

"Hey little guy, I have crayons and paper, wanna draw?"

Even though you expected the answer, you can't help but let a relieved breath upon seeing the toon litterally jumping out of joy. You go back to your bedroom -while making sure to leave the door open for the curious little dancing demon that follows you- and get to your desk where you know you leave your papers.

You were about to take the crayons -you do like to draw too from time to time; though you're not near half as good as some people of the Internet you saw- when you hear a soft falling sound. You quickly turn around to see Bendy, on your nightstand -he probably climbed to get on it- who accidentally push off your glass of water that you keep in case of nighttime thirst. As you have forgotten to refill it, it was thankfully empty -you don't want to know what would have happened to Bendy if there was still water in it...- but now the glass was broken.

And Bendy was- oh no.

Bendy was shaking from horns to shoes, looking at the glass then at you with ink-teared eyes. You gently put the sheet of paper on the desk and goes to him with worry.

"Hey- hey buddy... Are you okay? you try to reach for him but he nearly fall off by trying to step back. It's okay- I'm not mad..."

He keeps looking at you with teary eyes. Now's not the time to cry too. you remind yourself.

"I'm not mad Bendy. you repeat in a gentle tone. Accidents happens- it's okay. you smile and offer your hand again. I promise. Let me put you away from the shards though; you can be hurt. And we don't want that right? an hesitant nod. That's right; we don't want that." you repeat gently.

He takes your hand after some hesitation and before putting him on the ground you ponder if your reassurance was enough. He's still crying... You smile. After putting him on the ground again, you hug him.

It's... strange to say the least. He's made of ink but he's solid; and you're not stained either. It's just a bit cold to the touch, and smooth.

But you don't care. What's important here is to reassure Bendy that's you're not mad at him. Poor thing's been abused enough.

"It's okay... I'm not mad. I promise. It's okay..." you repeat over and over while passing your hand behind his head.

You keep doing that until you can feel him stop sobbing. You release him from the embrace and smile again.

"Do you feel better now? a timid nod. That's great. I'm going to clean that now alright? Please stay here, I'll be right back."

Another nod. You notice with a pinch in the heart that he's indeed, not following you this time. You take the broom and the dustpan (you have a sympathic thought towards Henry and a wondering one about how the fuck can you knock someone out with one for Sammy) and go back to your room. Bendy hadn't move and look away while you clean.

After putting all that in the trash, you come back to him.

"All done. Now then... he tense up and you try to not feel bad. we were going to draw weren't we?"

The little devil darling looks at you bewildered. Clearly he hadn't expected the activity to still be on your plan after that incident. You smile again.

"I told you, I'm not mad buddy. you take the sheet of papers and the crayons. So what are we drawing?" you say, giving him some of it and keeping some papers for yourself.

He beams at you and make a "shhhht" motion. You chuckle.

"Alright then, it's a secret."

You can't help but feel protective upon the little ink devil. You've played enough to know at least a bit of what he've been through, and you can't help but promise yourself that if you see Joey, Wilson or the Keepers in real life, there's going to be blood. Ink. Whatever; you're going to make them suffer.

Some hours pass by, and before you know it, it's dinner time. You gently put a hand on Bendy's shoulder.

"Hey little guy. It's time to eat."

He get the head up his drawing -what looks to be Boris- in shock. You chuckled.

"Yeah, we've been drawing for some hours. What do we say that we eat and then we show each other what we draw?"

You get another nod. You smile and take his hand to guide him back to the living room. Put him in the chair, set the table -for two this time- and prepare dinner. Some pastas will do tonight, you're sure your guest won't mind.

You eat in silence -Bendy is making effort to eat slowly; you give him praise for that and try not to cry upon seeing his amazed look- and finish by some yogurt -he did like it!- before you go to do the dishes. Afterwards you put the toon on the ground again, and you two are back in your bedroom, showing each other your drawings.

Yours aren't much; some sketches of Bendy. You were tempted to do Alice and Boris too, but you didn't want to make him confused avout how the hell you know about them. Bendy's are... a lot more. Sketches of his friends with him, even some of what you assume are Henry -a young man with a gentle smile and a pen- and Audrey -you recognize her immediatly-. However...

"Is that... Me?" you say a bit taken aback pointing at some drawings.

To your surprise, Bendy actually nodded. He then stretched the paper to you. But before you take it, he pouted and showed yours. You smile.

"A trade uh? a nod. Alright, seems fair. Here you go buddy." you say, giving him yours.

He beamed, and give his to you. Again, you smile. It really hurts at this point but you don't give two shits about it.

"Thank you Bendy. I really like it."

If possible, the dancing demon looked the happiest that you ever saw him, almost radiant. However, the moment is broken by him yawning. You look at the hour on your phone -that you got back from the living room-.

"Oh. It's quite late... you turn to Bendy. You should sleep."

A blink, then a questionning look. You can understand the unspoken question.

"Where? Well... I only have one bed, or there's the sofa but I don't think you like to be alone."

The toon tense and hesitantly nodded. You gently put a hand between his horns.

"It's okay. You're sleeping with me then. a chuckle. I hope you don't mind good ol' me."

He shook his head at that, and you smile.

"Alright then. Get yourself comfortable, I'm changing myself."

You go to the bathroom for that and try to be quick. Pyjamas, brushing teeths and it's all good. You come back less than a minut later to find Bendy sitting on the bed, his shoes taken off, but not under the sheets. You raise an eyebrow at that but don't comment.

Gently, you put him on the ground to take the sheets off, to then put Bendy under them, and get yourself under them too.

"Comfortable buddy?" you say, getting the comforter on you both.

A yawn answer you before a nod does. You chuckled and hug the little devil. He remind you of a plushie. If a plushie was a living breathing cartoon made of ink.

"Alright then, you say as you can see some "Z" above his head start forming. Goodnight Bendy."

You give him a kiss between his horns before shutting your nightstand's light off and falling asleep not so long after, with a smile on your face.

You didn't get to finish that game but you gain something so much better in return.

#batdr spoilers #batim #batdr #reader insert #bendy and the dark revival #baby bendy #bendy the dancing demon #Fluff #Tooth-rotten fluff #platonic #platonic relationships #Bendy is a baby #A child #No romance

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paint-music-with-me · 2 years

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be honest with me - am I insane for planning a vegaspete fic where....Pete is a pet shop owner or a veterinarian and Vegas comes in either looking a pet (obvi he gets the hedgehog ... and possibly a date) or wanting to ask questions about a pet that he recently bought from the store????

am I insane for wanting to write it???

#and before u even think abt it - no. it will not be the toxic/intimidating vibes.#this au will be soft and kind #the fic will be as soft and delicate as bible's hands #boom thatll be the fucking series title #just a bunch of vegaspete fics that are as soft and delicate as bible's hands #ive got another as a coffee shop au and flower shop au and the run-away dog au and the royalty au #like every tropey au under the sun full of rotten toothed fluff and shit where vegas and pete in diff lives #ill do it #goddamnit #fuck this shit #im supposed to be finishing my patpran fics #oof #blabber time #kinnporsche #vegaspete

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lemonswriting · 2 years

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acco: *casually declares war on me*

me: bitch. rIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD??

#chatterbox #i know ur reading this mf /lh #im coming for ya #imma write the sweetest most tooth rotten fluff #for my next few kaeya requests #and if that doesn't work??#OH HO HO be prepared acco

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hueningsspam · 3 months

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he wants to be posted so badly 😔😔😔😔

just a few more days my gorgeous creation

#rhias thoughts✮⋆˙#first time ive written something that has a happy ending #like no breakup #no death #no angst #all fluff #i think i have a tooth ache #its rottening how fluffy it is #ignore how i misspelt positive!!!

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sttoru · 16 days

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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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writingmeraki · 2 months

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men on a mission.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married lmao )

genre : fluff. few rotten tooth worthy fluff.

warnings : kissing and mentions of alcohol/drunkness.

author's note : well. i was inspired by a sort of dream i had abt mingyu and this sprouted out of it lmao. i rlly do hope it makes sense <3 i kinda wanna make this a fic someday but i have too much shit on my hands rn so take this instead :D also unkept, unsaid,ugly emotions other units will be coming soon and maybe something for enha too cause it's been a HOTTT minute ☝️!!

sp. dt to my svt luvr moots 🩷!! @blue-jisungs ; @shuamorollss ; @odxrilove ; @flwoie ; @strxwberry-skiess ; @bambikisss ; @enluv !!!! ( this is my small attempt at showing y'all i am alive and do think of you guys everytime i open this app :( love u all even those who aren't mentioned ! )

word count : 0.9k

small drabble in the same universe ( continuation if you wish ) !!

Mission be darned, you may just get exempted due to murdering your assigned partner.

“Mingyu! Can you please stop drinking!?”

You were sure your forehead might have become red from the amount of times you've been rubbing it and you can feel the grey hair seeping through.

Glaring at said man as he downed probably the fifth shot of some combo of liquor, you turned your attention to the bartender.

His eyes widened as he gulped in slight fear from the anger radiating in your gaze.

“I told you to stop. No more drinks for him.”

You said calmly as he quickly nodded his head and went in a rush to clean the already cleaned up counter for the second time, finding it better to be anywhere but near a furious person.

He knew what he was paid was not worth getting into an argument about how customer service is the top thing and all that.

“Loosen up! Have some fun babyyy!” His words slurred towards the end and you had to stop yourself from grinning at his words. You rolled your eyes at his words before hissing out lowly towards him,

“We are not supposed to have fun, if you remember, we’re here to collect some information!” You were whisper yelling at this point but you doubt anyone would hear you anyways from the loud music playing in the club which was already giving you a headache.

“ ‘s fine~”

“I’ll get it out some other time, just relax yeah? It’s been a while since we went out.”

Sighing at his words, you avoided looking at his face. You knew damn well he had that specific look. The look when he really wanted something from you which you weren’t agreeing on. You think it’s his eyes that get to you every damn time.

Suddenly, he moved from his position and clinged to your arm, almost making you fall off the bar stool as he scooted closer with his, making a screeching sound that would have made you cringe if it weren’t for the fact you were trying not to fall over from the sudden weight added.

“Mingyu!” You yelped as you moved your right arm around him, trying to hold him as support,which was another mission in itself considering how broad his shoulders were.

His face plopped itself on your shoulder, cheek smothered on it as he spoke, “You’re so warm, always are warm.”

You suppose he was somewhat fulfilling the actual mission you’d come for, which was acting like a couple in love as bait to get some information on a group that was specifically targeting couples for their acts and scams.

“Uhm, are you alright?” You turned to the concerned bartender, who had immediately turned towards you once again when he heard your shocked yelp from before.

“If he’s bothering you, I can call security.”

You rolled your eyes, for probably the nth time that night, murmuring under your breath how if he hadn’t given him the shots, he wouldn’t act that way.

“No it’s fine- he gets…clingy when he’s out of it.”

“Gyu?” The coldness of the ring on your ring finger touched his cheek which made him slightly wake up from almost dozing off as you had turned your attention away from him.

The ring didn’t go unnoticed to the bartender as he nodded at you and went about his business.

Turns out your mission was already halfway complete because you didn’t really need to fake being a couple, after all being married for six years is probably as real as it could get.

“You’re so pretty, wanna marry you and just be with you~”

You couldn’t stop the giggle now, your eyes sparkling underneath the club lights as you rubbed his cheek in adoration.

Well what was the point of trying to accomplish the mission anyways? You knew you would be able to get the information through other ways, so you might as well just 'have fun' as your actual partner ( for life ) said right?

Your anger was considerably simmered since it had occurred to you, it had been an actual while since you went out with him. Even if he was your husband, it was tough to get free time when you were both the best at your agency.

“Well I think you’ve already accomplished that yeah baby?” You don’t think you’ll ever get over how your stomach feels like butterflies are roaming around when he grins at you the way he is at the moment.

You’ll definitely never get over how he always and always looks at you like you hung up every star in the universe just for him to gaze at in awe. He looks at you, always did as if you held all the answers to his questions and perhaps in a sense you did. You were his everything, all the answers and all the stars.

“I love you.” Your cheeks were probably hurting from grinning so much, you could never be angry at him.

You moved your face a little closer to his, pecking his nose and pulling back,

“I do too. I mean I don’t think I'd have kept up with your annoying ass for the past almost decade if I didn’t.”

Before he could go on a rant about how mean you were being, you moved again, placing your lips on his, effectively shutting him up as his hazy brain tried to comprehend his long time–lifetime– crush kissing him.

He would never get used to how you would make him feel like he’s a giddy boy in love all over again just from your mere actions. He’s probably been in love a trillion times by now but just with you and only you.

Mission be darned, if he could have you like this at the end of the day, he doesn’t think he’ll ever regret anything.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

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wineauntie · 3 months

Note

omggg you could you maybe do little blurbs or headcanons for quinn x single mom reader? for example how sweet of a dad figure quinn would be for evie on valentine’s day and spoiling her rotten? btw love your writing so much!!

HEADCANONS — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

based on this one shot

note: Oh, no need to ask twice, I love Quinn x single mom reader with my whole heart. This includes how you guys met, Quinn meeting Evie and all the cute inbetweens!

warnings: a tiny little suggestive content halfway through but nothing major- sex is implied, fem!reader, just tooth rotting fluff for the rest of it.

Quinn knew he loved you from the moment he’d met you.

You and Quinn had a meet-cute. Meaning, he physically ran into you outside a coffee shop, causing all of your coffee to spill down his front.

He remembered cursing in shock only to turn into a flustered mess when you began to apologise and offer him tissues. That drama turned into him asking to buy you another coffee to which you agreed.

You hadn’t known who Quinn was or why some people had stared as he ordered you a coffee (You 100% just assumed it was because he was attractive)

You two talked for just over an hour before you parted ways (his number securely in your pocket as you went).

And the rest is history

You went on a date with him to a restaurant downtown. During this date you brought up the fact you had a daughter and that if that was a problem, then he should leave.

Quinn stayed. To him, it didn’t matter if you had a child.

You’d left the date blushing like a school kid whose crush had admitted to liking them back.

The two of you took it slowly, but around two months into your relationship, when Quinn asked you to be his girlfriend, you knew it was time to introduce him to Evie.

Evie, who was two at the time, had no idea who the man was holding her mom’s hand. She ended up throwing her teddy at him before running straight between your legs to hide.

Quinn had brought Evie pink and purple flowers after being told they were her favourite colours.

Evie had never been given flowers and instantly began to like Quinn.

I can just imagine Quinn crouched down introducing himself and Evie giggling.

“Oh hello, I’m Quinn,”

“Win.”

You’d stifle a laugh at Evie’s attempt to say his name.

“Yeah, Quinn!”

Quinn would be so unphased by Evie being unable to say his name, even when Evie began to call him Winnie, he secretly loved it.

Quinn became a constant in you and Evie’s life. He’d come to see you and Evie almost every day, or at least as much as his schedule would let him.

Evie would be obsessed with him, and Quinn? Oh, he adored being around you and her.

Evie would babble nonsensical words mixed with a few normal words and he’d nod and talk back to her, holding a conversation.

And don’t even think Quinn is above having tea parties with Evie because he is the one who suggests them.

I imagine you running to collect the post from your building's postbox only to come back and hear giggling from the living room.

You would find Quinn sitting cross-legged on the floor with a tiara and a sparkly pink cape opposite Evie in a princess dress and obnoxiously large sunglasses.

You had to take a picture before entering and joining them. That picture was your lock screen for so long.

Quinn more often than not spent the night at your apartment.

You’d given up a few drawers so that he could keep some things in your place.

It was easier to meet in your apartment because all of Evie’s things were there but the times you and Evie went to his apartment? those were like going on holidays for Evie.

Quinn’s apartment was considerably bigger than yours and when he’d begun to date you, he changed one of his two guest rooms into a room for Evie.

So imagine your surprise when you brought Evie over for the first time and found an entire princess-themed room filled with toys just for Evie.

You’d cried and Quinn had nervously scratched his head until you’d hugged him and thanked him for being so kind.

Evie had loved her room and begged you to stay over more.

And so when Quinn had asked you to move in with him a few months later, you’d jumped at the opportunity.

Quinn had surprised you with over fifty bundles of your favourite flowers as a ‘welcome home’ gift.

Your parents offered to watch Evie overnight to allow you and Quinn time to sort out the apartment.

Let’s just say the two of you christened the house…in multiple places…multiple times.

You’d curled up that night beside Quinn that night and had basked in the glow of your new home.

You’d already spent a Valentine’s Day with Quinn but at that stage, he hadn’t met Evie yet.

On Valentine’s morning, Quinn woke up at eight o’clock to make you and Evie a special breakfast— pancakes with a variety of toppings.

He’d gently woken up Evie and carried her into your room, placing her gently beside you. You’d barely stirred as Quinn pressed a loving kiss to your forehead whilst Evie cuddled close to your side.

He returned ten minutes later with breakfast, to which Evie and you had laughed and dragged him down into a one-handed hug.

He had sat down on the end of the bed and ate with the two of you, his eyes gleaming as the two of you enjoyed the food. (He’s an acts of service kind of guy and, hell, moments like those made his heart swell).

After the three of you had gotten ready, Quinn surprised you both with flowers. He was taking you out for dinner that night and in order to lessen Evie’s fear of missing out, he’d bought her a few gifts.

“It’s a bracelet,”

“That’s my name!”

You’d never forget how Evie beamed at the silver as Quinn clasped it onto her little wrist.

“And these are so you can come onto the ice with me,”

Quinn had bought her tiny black skates with pink lining, specifically for teaching Evie to skate as she’d begged him to for so many weeks.

Evie had been so overwhelmed by glee that she’d burst with excitement and lunged toward Quinn for a hug.

Quinn really is the best dad figure for Evie. He cares for her so wholeheartedly and so unwaveringly.

This man is so protective over her and you, it’s ridiculous.

Evie would come home with you from doing an odd shop and tell Quinn all about how some man was talking to you– he’d been flirting and you’d rejected all advances.

“And I throw bag of pasta at him, Winnie!”

“Atta girl! Good job!”

The two of them would high-five before Quinn would grab Evie and jostle her around as she laughed.

Quinn would be so protective over Evie in a way that made your heart so full.

Evie would come skipping home one day claiming that she and Tommy from school were married.

Quinn would immediately spring into dad mode and begin questioning who this boy was, what was his full name, where is he from, what’s his parents’ names, etc.

You would laugh off this protectiveness as Quinn stubbornly pouted at the lack of responses from Evie.

Quinn had gone to every parent-teacher conference with you, every recital or school event and every career day.

In fact, Evie became one of the most popular people in class when they found out that her ‘Q’ was a famous hockey player.

(Evie had begun to reference Quinn as her ‘Q’ since she was able to pronounce them at three. She knew Quinn wasn’t her dad but her 'Q' was basically the same.)

She began calling him dad when she was four and Quinn melted. You were overjoyed that your daughter had someone other than you to trust and love like a parent.

Evie asks Quinn why he always has ‘boring’ colours on his hockey stick, so he always wraps one stripe of pink tape around it in honour of Evie. (Then another stripe the same colour as your eyes just above it.)

When you’d brought Evie to her first hockey game, Quinn had gotten her a custom ‘Winnie, 43’ jersey. He’d also given you a Hughes 43 jersey, which he all but demanded you two wear to your first game.

Quinn had scored two goals that evening and dedicated both goals to his girls up in the box.

You and Evie had cheered so loudly for him and after the game, the three of you had headed home and celebrated with a movie night.

All in all, Quinn loves the little family he found and you guys love him just as much.

As you might be able to tell, I am OBSESSED with father figure! Quinn. I love him too much and would be more than willing to turn this into a series, I can’t lie <333

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers x reader #nhl x reader #i love quinn hughes what a man #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes #father figure!quinn hughes #x reader #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #family is family universe

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dr3c0mix · 4 months

Note

What if i want to bite them (all characters), like. Its love bites <3 like not hard enough to bleed hut enough to leave a mark for a while. Like i love them so much i just cant help it! I would kiss the bite marks after in hopes to make them not hurt as much <3

-🩷

Darling Gives Them Love Bites <333

My OCs x GN! Reader

Heres a short post from an old request as a little snack before the yan gang!!

CW: biting ofc, nsfw jumpscares sprinkled in, tooth decaying fluff

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Adrian is a bit confused and weirded out at first, like why are you biting thats gross youre gross wait why are you stopping you have to bite his other shoulder or else its not symmetrical and itll feel weird come back !!

he needs to get used to it gradually, but once it gets to the point you leave marks on his skin, he's asking for a lil bite every time you two say goodbye so he can have a memento of you

he cums in his pants if you lick the bite oh my god please do it again he begs of you

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Brandon thinks it's a game and bites you back, picking you up and throwing you up in the air. You activated some kind of trigger in him that made him go full excited golden retriever.

He bites you back, kissing the area over and over again as revenge

He probably bites more than you to be honest, he's always wanted to bite but held back in case you were uncomfy with it, but now that he knows you're cool with it he's going ham.

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Valeth is cooing over you, little duckling bites!! so cute!!!

He praises your bite marks, pointing out the parts that hurt saying things like "If you tried, you could definitely break skin! Good job my duckling!"

Thinks your little teeth are cute, especially your canines, he loves comparing it to his tusks.

He allows, no, encourages to let you nibble on his hand or arm

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The horde doesnt let you, kisses are ok, but biting ? no no no

not because they dont like it, they just dont want you putting your mouth on their literally rotten skin

plus they associate biting with eat so thats a bit of a problem

but my oh my they love kisses, give them a bit and maybe just maybe theyd let you nibble a little bit.

dont let them do it back to you especially ribs, they have super sharp teeth that can break bone if they wanted

but like you might be into that so idk man

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Wolfie thinks youre being aggressive before you assure him its how you express love, then he starts to do it back or lick you.

It's more of him casually putting a part of your body in his mouth protectively, he doesnt wanna hurt his mate ;-;

he still prefers licks and cuddles tho, anything that involves cuddles are ok for him!!

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Doriks cummin buckets im sorry

are you marking him as yours ? please do it some more please! maybe on his ear? arm? dick? chest?

hes all yours !!!

he offers to bite you back, itll eventually turn into very intense sex that ends with the both of you covered head to toe in bite marks

he wants round 2

use it as a reward and hes doing whatever you ask with the speed of a sports car

appears right next to you, neck exposed, waiting eagerly for another bite

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kalva is confused but laughs and bites you back, its a little painful because of the beak but he tries his best to be gentle.

he sees it as you trying to preen him and swoons over your 'attempt'

he preens you in order to teach how its really done! its mostly just an excuse to love on you <3

hes very ticklish so expect a flurry of giddly hoots and chirps from him whenever you nibble on him

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jasper is crying sobbing rolling on the floor rn

BITE HIM ON THE BECK PLEASE BITE HIM ON THE N-

he wants to roleplay with you being a vampire and him being your mortal soulmate

lil guy a bit freaky like that <3

moans so loud when you bite him, he has to apologize

euheheh eghghhh hes so crazy for you and your love bites

doesn't wanna bite back because skin on teeth is not a good sensation for him, but he'll cover your face in kisses to return the favor

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The vampires are cooing, swooning, absolutely simping for you

our little mortal is biting us so cute soc ute!!!!

get ready for never ending teasing and kissing

they point out the marks you leave and talk about how much better it would be if you were a vampire like them!

they fake terror over your bites, oh nooo a cute little human is biting me !! so so spooky !!

please let them bite you back

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Baron is short circuiting

ohmy oh oh my oh yomhyo-

thank you.

he has to process what just happened for a bit

tries to forget about it but he cant help but want another one when he gets a glimpse of your teeth when you talk or smile at him

stays up and imagines your mouth all over his skin leaving teeth marks everywhere

stayed up that night pumping his cock when he remembers you biting your lip that one time

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Caspian makes a big deal out of it

hes literally morticia in the addams family movie

last night you were unhinged, you were like some desperate howling demon, you frightened me

do it again

no please were are you going do it again!!!

"misbehaves" so you can bite him again as punishment

oops! i splashed you with water! you might have to bite me again~

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Hallow is yanking his fabric back and scolds you, what if you choked? he'd be worried sick!

gets you a chew fidget instead

doesnt quite understand love bites

please explain to him why eating him means you love him

maybe its because you think hes delicious? awwee thank you! youre delicious too i suppose !

coos over you as he holds you close, thank you for the bite honeypie!!

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Ashvan is squealing over how cute it was!!

blushes whenever you do, like very very flustered, his eyes might be covered by soft fur but you can almost see the redness on his face

his ears flatten as he tries to calm his frantically wagging tail

he gets much shyer whenever you smile at him or when you bite into your food during meals

he has to timidly ask for another bite with his index fingers touching together

please give him more biteys!!

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Axel tells you to bite harder

try it! hes tough! lets see how strong that jaw of yours is!

*frantically hiding his growing erection*

calls you little kitten or..rat

teases you by poking at your mouth with his finger to get you to bite

he loves it, he thinks its the cutest thing whenever you do it, especially when youre just subconsciously nibbling on him as if he was a chew toy

he makes sure his hands are always washed for you, no more touching dirty stuff carelessly, he gotta take care of himself for you!!

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King Alistair is pushing you away and coldly telling you no, but once you two are alone in your shared chambers, away from prying eyes, he softly tells you to continue

of course he loves you, he wants you to be free to express yourself, but please dont do it when people are watching

he has a reputation to uphold! not because he's shy and insecure about showing pda in public or anything...

bites back, definitely bites back!! out of all the ocs i think he bites the most next to Brandon

loves playing predator and prey whenever you two are fooling around together, if he ever leaves marks, hes kissing them softly to let you know he means no harm, he just got a bit carried away because youre just so sweet~!

if you leave marks, hes covering it up in his clothes, but occasionally he heads to he mirror, pulls away the fabric covering your lovebite, and smiles

argaragrgagrggrgargagrg

687 notes · View notes

togegiri · 3 months

Text

✎ᝰ ❛ PORT MAFIA'S GUIDE TO BE A HOUSEHUSBAND! ❜ — dazai osamu. chuuya nakahara. akutagawa ryunosuke.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ content. A simple guide on being a good househusband created by the port mafia members or should I say ex-port mafia member.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. tooth rottening fluff. there maybe some grammar mistakes. suggestive in dazai's parts. ( 3.5k words. )

note. I had fun writing this I hope you all will like it!

— THE SPOILING TYPE. 太宰治 | dazai osamu.

[ “welcome home my darling~ lookie look, I didn't burn down the kitchen! our neighbor lent us her recipe for the castella cake you like, hehe aren't you proud of me? don't I deserve a reward, like a kiss! c’mon just a little for being a great husband for you~” ]

You two met when you saw him terribly injured due to one of his missions. You first tried to stop his wounds from bleeding but the brunette haired man stopped you glaring and interrogating on what you were doing to him. You, being an honest citizen, said you wanted to help him. Reluctantly he let you help him, still suspicious of you.

Though his suspicion stopped once you stopped his bleeding and helped him tend to his injuries. He's grateful for that and because of this he formed a friendship with you even though it was small. Due to this small interactions and many more in the past years you two have become a loving husband and lover. He still remembers the day you two met.

He remembers it was a dark night yet in his words, an angel came and saved him. Exaggerating the events that has followed making you chuckle awkwardly everytime a stranger asked as they are met with this lovesick buffoons rambling about how amazing their lover is.

After a few months of being married you worry about his job in the port mafia thus leading him to quit his job and become a full time husband for your sake. Living in a small apartment, being with you almost 24/7 and a shining ring in his ring finger that indicates you two will be together till death do you two apart made him the happiest man there is.

Although he's good at loving you unconditionally, spoiling you with his kisses, and making you laugh through your everyday life, he's quite a terrible cook. You still remember the time he almost burned down the kitchen for trying to cook a curry. Also the time he accidentally burned himself.

“Ouch ouch ouch!” the curly haired male said, touching his small burnt hand. You looked at him in worry as his eyes formed small tears in the corner, “oh, osamu I told you it was hot,” you scolded him as he pouted at this. “I'm sorry,” he sulked, making you chuckle, “cmon put your hand on the water,” he does as you were told.

“ne ne since I injured myself don't I get a kiss to make it feel better~”

“don't tell me you purposely did that just to get a kiss,”

“I could never do that~”

He put a innocent front making giggle at his silliness, “still a no,”

“Oh cmoooon~”

What a whiny husband you have.

Although sometimes he purposely injures himself just for you to kiss him better. In other chores he's quite good at, sweeping, wiping the windows, killing a cockroach, and many more. He especially loves it when its shopping day or your day offs because he get to have more time with his darling lover.

Whenever you two are shopping together he already has a coupon for everything you buy. Solely because while you are out at your job he's out in the store looking for coupons or he's talking to your neighbors.

Your neighbors quite love your husband as they tell you how lucky you are for having a loving and handsome husband and a gentleman to boot too. He always talks to them like a gossipy housewife knowing all the tea in the neighborhood because of that.

Due to having good relationships with the neighbors. Everytime he asks for help on something such as cooking, or chores. A Lot of people are glad to help him or aid him with his problem. He also likes to talk to you about any recent gossip in the neighborhood. He always gets the bath ready whenever its almost time to get home.

He will be pouty and sulky if you don't get home in time like you usually do. Running ahead to you once he hears the key clanking and hugging you tightly. You chuckle at this, apologizing to him for working a little bit late.

“Sorry, I had to work a little bit late,” you awkwardly hugged him back as he hugged you tightly. “Sorry isn't enough you know, I missed you,” osamu nuzzled onto him inhaling your scent as you pat his head.

“I'm sorry,” you patted his head as he smiled, “you have to pay for it in bed tonight so get ready~”

“w- wait osamu I still have work tomorrow,”

“Sounds like a you problem~” he smiled cheekily at you as he peppered your face with kisses. You felt your whole face hot as you sigh at this, “fine,” he giggled cheekily.

He loves spoiling you with food or anything particularly. Because of him being an ex-mafia he has enough money to cost him for life. He could've easily bought a mansion for you but he quite likes the small apartment you two live in.

Whenever he's out shopping on his own he loves to buy the pretty clothes, or accessories his lover would like. He would secretly put all the gifts in your closet or anywhere you would first see it. He then would go on a rant about how you would look pretty on it once you ask what it is for.

He loves making you bento's although some of his cooking sometimes looked half burnt or not even cooked well yet. Yet you still eat because it's from your husband.

He will worship the ground you walk on and will do as you ask. He's like a lovesick puppy following you. His love for you will never falter so just come home and be in his arms where he will give you all his love, make you laugh, and feed you warm food even though it's half bad he hopes you'll like it. Afterall to be a househusband is to be able to make your lover smile and not make them cry a single tear. That is dazai osamu's motto.

His very own way of being a good househusband.

“Welcome home darling~ would you like dinner? bath? or me~” He greeted you with a smile as you chuckle at this, the brunette male giggling as he saw you, “I made dinner and also baked castella its kinda half burnt though, you dont mind right,”

“if it's from my husband I don't mind,” you said kissing his cheek, the ex mafia smiled at this. “Good! cmon cmon lets eat, I bet your starving my dear,”

— THE WORRYWART TYPE. 中原中也 | nakahara chuya.

[ “Why did you come home 10 minutes late? Nevermind that, are you hurt? Does your shoulder hurt, your back? want a message, or do you wanna go bath first? or do you wanna eat dinner first? I bought pudding for dessert, worried? of course I'm worried jeez, just go get a bath you stink,” ]

The classic worrywart type, he worries about every move he does and every move you make, making you sigh in defeat at your husband. The two of you met as cliché as any shoujo manga, under a rainy day and seeing him passed out and injured. Being a good citizen you brought him to your home and tended him. Once he woke up he seemed to have a fever prolonging his stay at your house. Delirious due to his fever he seeked the warmth of your hands. The gentle fleeting touches you give him those days of his illness.

The day he became not so delirious he became flustered at his past actions saying in a forceful tone to forget about those events. Without knowing it, you two became friends, then lovers, to a happily married couple. Figuring his job is filled with too much violence that may lead you to getting used by his enemies. He simply quit and became a full time househusband in your dainty little home.

He gives you everything he thinks is best, that's the reason why you two have diamond rings, his love for you is like a diamond, never breaking and always shining. Whenever he feels lonely he kisses the ring placed on his ring sighing as he stops himself from calling you afraid that he'll bother you mid work.

He's quite the best cook too. He makes those perfect bento, neatly done and cooked right by yours truly. He also made those cute character bento like my melody and many more. Once he hears from you that you loved it he heart will swell from pride as he gives you a cocky smirk and the saying, “of course it is good, I'm your husband that means nothing but the best should be given to you.”

He's quite strict at making your bento, the kind of husband who will make a good diet of your bento. He also memorized all your favorite desserts, food, vegetables, fruit, and what scent you like many more too. He wants the best of the best for you so he'll go all out for it.

Even if he hides it, he does miss you every time you have to leave for work. Putting on a strong front which you can easily see as he hurries you to leave for work already.

“Did you bring your umbrella? the news said it'll rain you know,” the ginger haired male said as he stood near the door as you put on your shoes, “Yes I did,” he nodded at this.

“What about your bento? Do you have it?” you chuckle at his questions, “Yes I do,” he furrowed his brows seeing your tie crooked, “your tie is crooked wait a minute,” he goes closer to you fixing it loosening it a bit.

“There, jeez your hair is still messy too,” he sighs at this taking a comb thats hidden in his pocket combing your hair, “there, now go before you get late,” you giggle at him as you began to step near the door as he then took your wrist. Stopping you as he forced you to look back at him kissing you in the lips softly. This caught you by surprise as he took off his lips to your own.

“Have a safe trip,” he says, a small blush coating his cheeks making you smile at him, “Thank you darling.”

Although he's quite a worrywart and always on you about everything. He has his soft sides too. How he shamelessly shows you off around the neighborhood by his words. At first he was quite cold to them, not speaking a single word only giving them a few answers if they asked him to.

Although when they started asking questions for his lover he became a little bit ecstatic talking to them showing off how amazing their lover is. Slowly everyone in the neighborhood grew to like him because of this. The auntie's around your simple house were always glad to help you two out on anything. Although you were more on the chattier side your husband was more on the silent side speaking when spoken to.

He prefers making things for you to show his appreciation. While he does like spoiling you with his riches. He loves it when he, the things that make you happy. Thus the reason why he took crocheting as a hobby.

Like dazai, he loves it when it's the weekend because it means your day off and that means he gets to spend more time with you. Which always consists of you two baking, you learning how to crochet to get closer to your husband. You are making him learn more about your hobbies.

He loves physical affection although quite a tsundere when he's the one asking for it thus him leading to be more on the acts of service type of guy.

“No that's not how you do it,” you stopped your movements as chuuya pointed out the wrong way you crochet. He goes closer to you as he smiles showing you how it goes, “its like this,” you nodded your head.

“I see, thank you chuuya,” he smiles blushing a little, “welcome and..uhh..d- dont I deserve a reward for that?” at his bold words your eyes widen smiling as you gave him a kiss in the cheek making him huff in pride.

He's very good at giving you messages, that's why he likes doing them. He loves it when there is a 50% off sale while he is rich from his former job. Nothing beats the feeling of having a 50% off.

He's a soft man at heart he just builds cold walls that may take time to burn down. Thus the reason why he worries for you a lot. Being a househusband means ensuring your health and keeping you comfortable in this simple life of husband and lover of yours. That is Nakahara Chuuya's motto on being your house husband.

“I'm hooomeee,” you announced feeling drowsy and tired as chuuya walked towards the door looking at you worried, “welcome home, is everything okay? Do you want a massage? Does anything hurt?”

You smile at him seeing his usual worrywart and dotting self to you, “yeah, I'm fine just tired from work, my shoulder hurts a little bit though,” he smiles, “cmon lets go dinners ready and your bath is ready too, I'll massage you once your done with your bath.”

“your the best,”

“hmp, I know that,” he huffs as you chuckle, “I love you,”

“I love you too.”

— THE PROTECTIVE TYPE. 芥川龍之介 | akutagwa ryunosuke.

[ “Did you take overtime again? How many times have I told you to not do that? Do I have to come to work and punch those scumbags to not make you work too much? hmp! its not violence it's about just teaching them a lesson,” ]

Another classic nagging wife-like of a husband. The first time you two met was a rocky start with him trying to kill you solely because you were tending his injuries you hated how bratty he was saying he doesn't need any help but ended up passing out in your arms. You sigh at his stubbornness and tend to him for the past few days he was unconscious. You knew he was a mafia due to his all black get up and bloody clothes.

Yet helped him anyways because you just wanted to help him, it took time for him to open up and slowly burn down his tough walls. At Least 3 months of you two being ‘acquaintances’ to becoming ‘friends’ you chuckled at the times he was being cold to you.

It took a lot of time till you two became lovers to the now husband and lover. Happily married and a small home in a small neighborhood. He's an alright cook, he's not good at it but he takes his time to learn things on cooking via cooking lessons by the neighborhood auntie's who graciously lend him a hand.

He's popular with them because of how they thought he was an adorable husband for you. Although quite cold towards them the auntie's doesn't mind as they still coo at him. To be frank he didn't know how to be a good househusband.

He sucks at cooking, cleaning, and even being affectionate to you was a struggle for him. Though you didn't mind that, you let him learn at his own pace. Going to the neighborhood asking what laundry detergent is good for this specific fabric, how to iron clothes correctly, and many more.

“F- fuck… not again,” the raven haired male said furrowing his brows as he accidentally put too much force on breaking the egg that the shells wad put on the egg. He sighs as he takes another egg, breaking it not too hard, not too gentle, his eyes sparkle as he did it perfectly.

“There,” he sighs as you look behind him, smiling and admiring your husband. He's so cute. Maybe you should give him something for always doing his best.

The reason he quit being in the port mafia was because you like dazai and chuuya. He doesn't want to see you hurt and he especially doesn't want to see you being all worried and teary eyed to him.

He hates messes, absolutely hates them and bugs too. He almost wrecked the whole house because he used his ability to kill a single cockroach who was flying and dodging his everymove. He was almost as his wits end at the single roach.

While he has a lot of money due to being an exmafia he refuses to buy expensive ass vegetables and fruits that people overpriced in the mall. Every Time he's grocery shopping he's glaring at any overpriced vegetable, seasonings, etc. he lays his eyes upon.

He doesn't like grocery shopping solely because he hates picking on which is far more good to have. This cabbage is nice but also this one too. Which should he choose? He always ends up thinking like that which makes him irritated.

He furrow his brows looking at the two carrots, one in his right hand, seemingly with good color and quality, while the other is far more bigger and good quality. He glares at the carrots in his hands as the other people who feel his strong and intimidating aura.

Not to mention a man wearing all black with an apron and with his bitch face people start to back away in the vegetable aisle.

Some people also misunderstand him there. How he was asking for the cornstarch flour but forgot what it was called asking the staff for the ‘white powder stuff' and the staff thinking it was cocaine. Thus the many reasons he hates grocery shopping.

Just like Chuuya he is strict about your diet, he will go above and beyond for your bento's meals making sure everything is healthy there. He kind off has a grudge for electronic devices used for cleaning, like those small bots used for sweeping.

When you bought that you swore he was about to start war on an inanimate object. He prefers cleaning in the old fashion way saying it's much cheaper and plus he cleans very good due to the neighbors teaching him about the many ways to clean your house.

Speaking of cleaning because of the cleaning lessons the auntie's taught him in the neighborhood. He became a professional. Everytime you come home you swear your whole house was sparkling due to how clean it is.

“Oh wow! you really outdone yourself dear,” you said in awe as you look at your spotless house making him huff in pride, “ of course, anyway go get a bath, dinners almost ready,” you nodded your head at his words as he forms a small smile at this.

He hates it when you work overtime solely because he misses you and also hates it when you overwork yourself. 'If your work ends at 6:00 it ends at 6:00 okay? don't take overtime.' he says glaring at you, sending you off to work making you sweat drop at it.

He spoils you with gifts while he was out shopping on his own. Passing by stalls and seeing things you might like and giving them to you directly without much of a word. He sucks at making things or being affectionate to you so he hopes these gifts will show how much he loves you. (Which is always expensive by the way, like diamond necklaces, Gucci bags, Prada things and many more.)

He sometimes calls you on work to see if you're okay and if you're doing alright, he can't help but worry for your safety and overall well-being.

He once intimidated a coworker of yours because they were the sole reason you came home late for a whole week. He's awkward at it but he always tries his best to kiss you, hug you, and hold your hand. He still feels embarrassed for such things but he just needs time to get used to it.

As for his motto, he truly doesn't know, he just wants to see you happy with him. Smiling only at him and being with him only. Does that count as a motto?

“You have everything you need right?” he asks standing near the door as you nodded your head, “of course,” he nodded, his eyes gazing away from you then back at you.

You looked at him in confusion tilting your head to the side. As he took a step near you and closing the gap between you two. As his lips got in contact with your cheek.

“Have a safe trip,”

You smile at him, “thank you dear, I will,”

“And don't take overtime got it?”

“Haha! I will not, see you,”

He huffs in pride, the color red coating his face.

'I can't believe I kissed them like that,' thoughts of a man who has been married to you for years.

492 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 11 months

Text

who could stay? (you could stay.) (eddie munson x reader)

summary: you're convinced that being loved comes with a cost. he finds a way to prove you wrong. (wc: 9.7k+)

order up! i've got one ash's special for anonymous. ♡

Keep going, keep going, keep going.

Agree to run that errand for someone. Offer a shoulder to cry on for that person. Fix that problem for this friend. Keep going, keep offering, keep becoming indispensable.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact age you’d figured out the formula. You can never know for sure if the day was sunny or if it were rainy, if it were a calm December morning or a buzzing July night, but those details aren’t very important. The only important detail is that you had finally cracked the code at some point – you had finally figured out the solution to feeling unlovable. And that was that, truthfully, there wasn’t a solution. Once you were destined to feel this way, to feel so sour at your core, there is no easy way to rid yourself of that rotten pit. It would always be there – always churning, always burning, always yearning. Yearning to be loved, yearning to feel those waves of warmth cascading over your brain and down your spine, the ones others had always described to you but you’d just never… experienced. Never became familiar with.

It felt like everyone was playing an over-elaborate prank on you. They’d all conspired against you, invented a false feeling in which someone claims to feel loved, only to sit back and watch as you fumbled to find it. They’d laughed as you dug through a graveyard of relationships, caked your fingernails with dirt as you sobbed and would continue to claw deeper, trying to find just one set of bones that might hold that warmth for you.

The only solution to that detrimental feeling of being unlovable, was to feel needed.

You needed to feel so necessary, so essential, to everyone around you at all times. It never mattered how much of you it took. You’d give away every piece of yourself a million times over just to feel wanted at some capacity, even if that capacity were one you’d forced upon the other person. You didn’t care if you’d built the glass cages of theirs – you just cared that they kept you around to wipe away any smudges that appeared.

Being wanted wasn’t quite the same as being loved. And if you thought about that for too long or too often, you might just break irrevocably.

“I just don’t understand him,” Nancy sighs from the head of your bed, reclining against a wall of pillows you’d lined your headboard with. Two of which were body pillows. Long tubes of fluff to try and fill lonely spaces, you suppose, “Why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to go to the same college? Why… Why do I feel like I am forcing him to be with me?”

Because you are. Just like I force you all to need me.

“I don’t know, Nance.”

That bland, bitter, half-thought out answer lingers on your tongue, almost burns your throat with the whisper of say more, say something useful, say something comforting. It’s the whisper of those four words not being enough. It’s the whisper of that threat that those four words could be the beginning of the end, the thing that makes Nancy realize she doesn’t need you.

After all, what use is a friend that can’t give good advice, or be supportive during relationship rants?

You open your mouth to add on something sweeter, something to coat the conversation like honey and smooth out the lines forming on Nancy’s forehead, but she beats you to it, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Yes. “It’s fine,” at least that wasn’t a lie – you’d dug this specific grave, had rooted down tooth and nail only to find another empty coffin of a friendship curtained with want instead of love. You’d all but asked for this, “What he did really was shitty. It’s not fair to you.”

The words are almost robotic, telling Nancy Wheeler what she wants to hear rather than what she needs to hear. You don’t always do that, you do make a point of investing in the truth from time to time to truly secure your position as someone who is genuinely needed in her life, but the headache nagging at your temples tells you it’s not worth the fight tonight. You’re tired, you’re agitated, and you really just want to get Nancy to the point of contentment in her rambling so that you can send her on her way.

God, you’re an awful friend.

It turns you quiet, a ricocheting thought that bruises your inner skull the rest of the time Nancy sits on your bed. The guilt eats you alive for that moment of irritation the rest of the night. Even after Nancy goes home, even after you’ve brushed your teeth and you’ve tucked yourself into bed. The guilt gnaws on the edges of that emptiness inside of you, that ever-present black hole that already existed, and says this is why you cannot be loved.

Maybe the pity party for feeling like a bad friend is what makes you a bad friend.

And maybe if you were a better friend, you would be loved instead of wanted for once.

It’s all part of a cycle, never-ending and treacherous. It’s always been this way. You make promises to your friends and rip yourself to shreds before remolding yourself into whatever they need; giving rides to the younger kids within your circle to the pool all summer which evolved into taking turns with Steve as to who would pick them all up after their D&D club ran late every Friday night, always lending a listening ear to Nancy once Johnathan moved away and she’d had to witness her relationship and her love vanishing in real time, always being the one person who will listen to Robin ramble for hours about her sudden interests. None of it was born of ill-intent, but when you’d go home lonesome at the end of the night, you could see it all for what it was.

You were trying to fill a void. A hollow rot, a black hole. And it was only working half the time.

Half the time, until he came along.

And make no mistake, his arrival was as bloody as anyone who had previously entered your life. For a while there, you believed his headstone was at the end of the line already, sanctioned away in this graveyard of the ability to be loved. He came crashing into your life on a random Friday night, and you had sworn you could already see the end as it began, but you had been wrong.

“So, you’re the infamous babysitter.”

His voice caught you off guard. You’d been sitting in your car with your windows down, enjoying the reprieve of a cooling autumn evening as you waited for the boys to finish up with their D&D club. With your head buried in the latest sci-fi novel that Dustin had recommended and would no doubt be grilling you on once he got in the car, you hadn’t even heard the club exit the school.

“Nope,” you fought a smile as you glanced up from the pages to see an older guy standing there, closer to yours and Steve’s age than the kids. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this was the famous Eddie all the boys would ramble on about for hours on end, “Harrington’s the babysitter. I’m just the taxi driver.”

There was something particularly pretty in the way he threw his head back with laughter at your words. Curls that messily fell just beyond his shoulders, full lips disappearing as his teeth peeked through and shined beneath the parking lot’s lamp posts. His denim vest looked purposefully distressed with a mirage of patches and pins, and he was wearing a leather jacket beneath it, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough for it yet outside. He was cute – and watching him laugh because of you sparked something irreversible inside of you.

“C’mon now,” he sighed as his cackles quieted, “Give yourself more credit than that. At least call yourself something fancy, like ‘chauffeur’.”

“Ah, but ‘taxi driver’ insinuates that I charge them,” you don’t miss a beat, and your quick wit has him chuckling again.

You caught sight of his eyes, corners creased with joy – brown. They were deep, russet, tantalizing brown. Almost indiscernible from his pupil in the dark.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You took his hand that he shoved through your open window with ease, and felt an immediate shiver run down your spine. Not quite from the cold, but not quite warm. You saw the first flash of his grave, and you knew you’d be digging your greedy hands into it soon enough.

As you gave him your name in return, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone.

You had been half right that night. You wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone, you would be seeking out the impossible from Eddie – but so would he.

It quickly became apparent that Eddie was a pest. Someone who weaseled his way into the lives of others, who made his presence felt and never forgotten.

You’d started with the same slow dance as you did with every new person, a hesitant dipping of your toes into their waters, unsure if your presence in their life would only cause more trouble than you’re worth, when you quickly discovered that nothing could ever be hesitant or slow with Eddie Munson. He’s the one constantly reaching out to you. Driving the kids home now takes double the time it used to, long conversations being had with him that has the kids dragging you away, practically begging to just be taken home. The day he’d asked for your number, you couldn’t tell which one of you burned brighter red. And the moment he had your number in his clutches? Forget about it. You never heard the end of Eddie Munson, and you never really wanted to.

Unlike your friends you already had and loved deeply, Eddie was observant.

It’s within the first month of knowing you that he had picked up on your insecurities. Maybe he hadn’t directly seen that gaping hole in your chest yet, but he noticed your habit of running yourself dry to see others thrive.

The need to be needed. He picked up on it quickly.

“What about Sunday?” Eddie’s voice traveled over the line as you laid on your stomach, stretched out across your bed for a few moments of rest before you had to get up and take the cookies you’d baked for Steve and Robin into Family Video, just like you had promised, “I’m free then if I finish all my fuckin’ homework on Saturday night.”

Surprisingly, that phone call with Eddie hadn’t been something expected or planned. It had been impulsive; in a rare moment of peace, you found yourself craving to hear his voice. Somehow, the two of you had ended up trying to figure out a free day to properly hang out. Eddie wanted to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, and you wouldn’t turn down the free fries he also promised.

“I can’t,” you paused just to hear his predictably dramatic sigh, grinning as you continued to explain, “I’m taking Max to the skatepark that day.”

“And it’s going to take all day?”

“It could!”

“There’s absolutely no way.”

“You clearly haven’t seen that girl skate.”

The conversation continued, light-hearted enough with plentiful jokes made. Something about talking with Eddie made your heart lighter, the usual unbearable and contradictory weight of emptiness no longer on your mind as you listened to him ramble about something that had happened in one of his classes – a teacher tried to embarrass him when he caught Eddie doodling for a D&D campaign by asking him a question, not expecting him to know the answer. Eddie had, of course, leaving the teacher baffled with a smirk.

It’s all about my charm, sweetheart, he responded when you asked how he hadn’t earned a detention from that.

Only towards the end of the call, when the conversation finally lulled and the two of you found yourselves settled into a comfortable silence, did Eddie finally circle back to the beginning of your conversation.

“You know,” he started, “When I first met you, I never took you to be someone so…”

“Amazing? Wonderful? Funny?” you jokingly attempted to finish his sentence.

“Busy.”

Oh. You hadn’t expected that one.

“Busy?” you repeated back to him, “I’m not that busy.”

Your mind immediately started racing with thoughts of what he had meant. Was he feeling neglected? Maybe you should have canceled on Max on Sunday, agreed to Benny’s with him instead. No, you couldn’t bear Max’s disappointment. Maybe you could tell Max you had a time constraint, even though you knew she hated those when it came to her skating days. Was there any other plans you could abandon? Anyone else you could bear to let down for the sake of not leaving Eddie high and dry? No, no – all your other weekend plans involved going to the movies with Robin, helping Steve look into colleges finally, taking the boys to the Starcourt mall to shop for supplies to make figurines for their newest campaign. The room was suddenly getting smaller, your chest constricting, your head spinning. You couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing any of those people, no, but what about Eddie? Maybe he was right in feeling neglected, maybe you deserved whatever guilt was to come from whatever his next words would be. He was your friend, you were supposed to make time for h-

“Sweetheart,” he scoffed over the line, and you swore you heart stopped right then and there, “You’re the highest thing in demand since Cabbage Patch Kids last Christmas – and trust me, I should know how in demand those fuckers were. I worked seasonally at the mall, remember?”

Your breath caught. He was feeling neglected. You weakly began your apology as tears were already filling your eyes, that panic turning over itself in your gut, “I’m-”

“And it’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong,” It’s clear your voice had been too soft, too weak, for him to hear you, “Just means I’ve gotta fight harder to be worth your time, am I right?”

You had to clear your throat, but it did nothing to subsidize that anxiety that rattled your bones. It’s blatantly evident as your voice shook with a second attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean- I can… I’ll… Just tell me when for Benny’s. I can make it work, I swear-”

“Woah, woah, woah.”

He had to have heard the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. The shake of your breath as you’d stuttered over your words, grasping for a solution.

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” his voice was soothing and soft, the most gentle it had been the entire night. You pinched your eyes shut and just tried to imagine those stupid, big doe eyes, those ungodly messy curls (you’d started to tease him about if he ever even brushed or combed them). The panic remained, but Eddie’s voice started to give it a run for its money, “I was just playing around. You know that, right?” he paused to give you room to answer, but your throat was still tightly squeezed by overwhelming emotion, overwhelming fear of having scorned Eddie, “You could only have enough time in your schedule to see me once a year, and I’d still be your friend. We could only have these random phone calls, even if they were never longer than a minute, and you’d still be worth it. You know that, right?” Another pause, another wave of silence from your end, “Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.”

Each word made the panic settle. You weren’t sure how he did it. You weren’t sure how mortified you should be that he had only been in your life for a month at most, and had just overheard you at your most vulnerable.

All you were sure of was that you believed him.

“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling that ring of fear loosen, vocal chords finally functioning once more.

“Okay,” Eddie repeated back in that same gentle, soothing, soft tone.

You weren’t disappointing him. You weren’t making him feel neglected. He still found use for you, he still wanted you around – he still needed your friendship. That had to be enough.

It was quiet over the line for a few moments.

It has to be enough, you reminded yourself.

“Say,” you finally said, voice back to normal strength and the tears having dried themselves up for the most part. Your heart had almost returned to normal rhythm, “How does Benny’s sound tonight?”

“Tonight?” he chimed back, sounding as excited as a little kid the morning of a cherished holiday, something like Christmas.

A shiver ran down your spine. It’s not from the cold, and you tell yourself it’s not quite warmth – it can’t be warmth.

“Tonight,” you confirmed, “With a detour by Family Video, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a special delivery of cookies to fulfill.”

“What kind?”

“Excuse me?”

You were grinning - God, you were a pathetic fool, grinning and clutching onto that phone like a lifeline. Like if you let go of it, you’d lose his voice, and if you lost his voice, that would be the end of the world.

“What kind of cookies?”

“Chocolate chip.”

He hummed, not answering right away as if he were deliberating this information. When he finally spoke again, another shiver wrapped around your spine, spinning down, down down. Waves of what you almost believed were warmth. “Okay. I suppose I can be your taxi driver, for a price.”

“What’s your price?”

“One cookie.”

“Deal.”

It had to be enough, because you were still clutching that telephone tightly to your cheek, long after the phone call ended with Eddie’s promise of being at your house soon enough. It had to be enough, because after that night, it became clear; the world would not end with the loss of just Eddie’s voice from your life, but the loss of Eddie, period. It was the first night of many in which you played a very, very dangerous game.

Even with Nancy gone, you felt restless. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer in all that self-pity, still replaying the night and all you could have done differently.

Had she caught on with how out of it you had been? Had she seen through your act and immediately assumed the worst – assumed you weren’t worth keeping around?

The thoughts might be an overreaction.

You were definitely overreacting.

You didn’t really care that you were overreacting, though, because you really couldn’t control it. It was just another dark path you couldn’t stop your mind from traveling down. It was endless, and it was lonesome, and… and it was just normal. What should be devolving into a panic attack can only settle like an emptiness deep within your chest; you’ve been staring at the blank wall of your living room for so long without blinking, your eyes have gone dry.

A pattern. That’s what the therapist said. You had a pattern for overthinking these interactions, for projecting feelings onto others that didn’t exist. You think all your friends hate you, you think that a stranger found your smile to be more of a grimace, you think your mom hasn’t called in months because she recognizes you as a failure finally. But none of it is actually what those people think. It’s like a mirror – you look into the eyes of others, and you see all your own insecurities reflected back.

She’d asked you to work on it. To take a step back and just breathe, just remind yourself of that, whenever this happens. You’d decide whether you’d mention this minor slip up later. For now, you were going to wallow. You were going to spiral with just you, this damn blank wall, and maybe even the bottle of wine in the fridge.

Yes, your mind was made up, and you force yourself to stand from the couch and wander into the kitchen, eyes still dry and chest still caving in on itself as you open the fridge.

That’s as far as you get. Your fridge is wide open, the bright luminescent light flooding your kitchen floor in time with the trickling chill that sneaks up on your warm cheeks and already numb toes, when you spot it.

A box of takeout. It’s old enough now you could throw it out, you had known the moment he’d taken the last of his meal to-go that he wouldn’t finish it. Teased him about it, even. But he was stubborn and you weren’t capable of turning down the opportunity to let another piece of him, another flash of evidence of his place in your life, occupy this apartment. So there it sat, a half-eaten burger he hadn’t revisited.

But he had revisited the apartment – revisited you. He’d been here every night this week, and you’d practically had to shove him out on the street to get him to leave this morning to get to work on time.

The edges of that emptiness that weighs down your insides blur, already lightening microscopically as you slam shut the fridge and forgo the wine completely to grab the phone instead.

“You don’t have to always take care of everyone, you know,” he murmured as he joined you in the kitchen to retrieve popcorn for the gang, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie night.

“Pardon?” you asked, hardly glancing over your shoulder as you punched in the designated time for the microwave to turn the kernels into an easy, mouth-watering snack of butter and crunch.

“You always take care of everyone. You don’t have to.”

His words rang clearer that time, loud enough to have stopped you in your tracks. You paused mid-reach, the cabinet for the Harrington’s bowls wide open and shelves nearly too tall for you.

“I-” you weren’t sure exactly what to say, “What do you mean?”

His brows scrunched, eyes having narrowed in the slightest in your direction, “Please don’t play dumb right now.”

“I’m not playing dumb. I’m trying to get popcorn for our movie night,” you waved your hand towards the shelves lined with bowls for emphasis on your point, “That’s not really taking care of everyone – it was just being polite. Steve’s hosting, it’s the least I can do.”

“The least you can do? The least you can do is actually just sit with friends, enjoy the movie,” the crease between his brow deepened, eyeing you with an unfamiliar concern. You shifted beneath the weight of his gaze.

You don’t know what to say. Except, “It’s not that serious.”

He scoffed, and you nearly flinched from it. Fear threatened to bubble up – he’s upset, he’s getting irritated at you. He’s getting tired of you.

You waited for him to say something more as the buzz of the microwave filled the tense space, but he remained silent. Brooding.

“What?” your voice shook, your entire being torn between succumbing to all that fear and anxiety in upsetting him further and that voice in the back of your mind that urged you to push him, to hear what he really thought. “I know you have something more to say.”

“In the six months I’ve known you, you haven’t taken a single break for yourself.”

He met your push, stood his ground and didn’t let it put any distance between you two. It felt like a goddamn revelation, right there in the Harrington kitchen.

“I take plenty of breaks, Eddie,” you tried to laugh off, “I do spend time away from you all, hard as that may be to belie-”

“Hardly,” he cut you off as sharply as the first resonating pop that echoed from the microwave.

“What’s your point? I just like being around you guys. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”

This was the part where the distance would happen. You kept pushing, took the inch he’d given you to bite back and ran with it. Normally, you avoided conflict with any of your friends vehemently. Always afraid, always assuming the relationships to be so fragile and so delicate. You would take such care in never giving them a reason to hate you that you’d never taken to a battleground before.

But there had been a look in Eddie’s eyes that night. A shine that, breaking through all the worry for you, whispered, fight with me. Stand your ground with me. I’ll still call you tomorrow, no matter what words we exchange tonight.

A safety net had formed that you’d never even noticed. That delicacy wasn’t needed here. You could pick up the sword, there in that kitchen, and it wouldn’t turn Eddie to smoke and shadows.

“My point is…” he paused, he swallowed hard, he exhibited the delicacy that was usually expected from you, “You can like being around us. But you should put yourself first. At least once. At least on movie night.”

“How is me making popcorn not putting myself first?” you got the question out, you took a deep breath, ready to go on some sort of defensive tirade for your habit you were well aware of.

He beat you to it, “Every day last week, you only got three hours of sleep, at most, before your shifts. You gave up sleep to hang out with us all way too late, refused to throw in the towel and go home before anyone else.”

“I could have napped-”

“You didn’t nap,” he stressed, taking a step closer to you. The popping of the snack turning in the microwave was erratic, mere seconds left on the timer. Static noise to the conversation at hand, “I know you didn’t fucking nap after your shifts because you were immediately running errands for everyone else, or hanging out again. You offered to give Robin a ride to work every single day, and her shifts start… what, an hour after yours ended? And then you had to give her rides home, right? But in those hours she was at work, you were helping Dustin with an essay for school – that little fucker told me all about it. You were awake when Johnathan called you and we were all stoned off our asses, went and got us food we didn’t need but still wanted. We didn’t even expect you to pick up, you know? I told them, I swore to them, you wouldn’t pick up. You had a morning shift. You were scheduled literal hours from when we called you. But you picked up. You fucking picked up, and you went and got the fucking food for us fucking idiots.”

Your brain completely malfunctioned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was saying all of these things that should be good things, things that proved you were needed and you were reliable, but with such venom in his tone.

Anger had sparked within you as you pictured how giddy Dustin had been over the B he’d earned on his essay, that sincere appreciation on Robin’s face every time she left your car last week, the dopey grin that Argyle had worn when you’d arrived with their food order in your pajamas. All previously things to fuel you, filling that aching hole inside of you, now being tarnished because he was concerned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you seethed at him, “Would you prefer I hadn’t been awake? Would you prefer I let Dustin just… get a fucking F on that essay? Or Robin walks to work?”

“Yes!”

You were both shocked at the sudden volume in your voices. The quickness in his reply. The quiver in your lip.

“Yes,” he breathed out, quieter this time, “I would prefer those things if it meant you were taking care of yourself. The word ‘no’ should be in your vocabulary, sweetheart. I… The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.”

But you all needing me might.

“Just… just…” your breaths came out in huffs, eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Eddie’s stare. A final push, and it came out more fragile than you’d ever intended, “Just mind your business, Eddie.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but the microwave started to go off, signaling what you saw as the end of the conversation – the fight. You’d raised your voice at him, you’d swung that sword in his direction, and he hadn’t vanished. His friendship – he – wasn’t as breakable as you’d thought.

You spun on your heel, you took the popcorn out and divided it into bowls for the group, busying your hands in any way possible. All the while, he never left the kitchen. He stood just feet away from you and let you do what needed to be done, and only stopped you as you turned to exit the kitchen with the snacks acquired.

His hand caught onto your elbow, “You have bags.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have bags under your eyes,” he elaborated. He no longer looked frustrated, but defeated, a morose distress pinching the edges of his feature.

“Jesus,” you were now scoffing, adjusting your grip on those bowls, “You really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”

“They’ve been there for months,” his grip refused to loosen, thumb trailing over the crease in your arm, “Please don’t run yourself into the ground.”

You gave him a cold shoulder as you left him behind to rejoin your friends, unable to shake his consternation. It was so genuine, it terrified you. It made your insides churn, it turned your anxious attachment to dust.

It made a shiver of warmth travel down your spine.

The empty space beside you on the couch only remained for seconds after you’d passed around the bowls, keeping one for yourself. He was back there, back at your side, as if the two of you hadn’t just exited a battle ground. As if a stand-off hadn’t just occurred, as if it all hadn’t ended in a draw.

He looked at you with those eyes.

Fight with me. Stand your ground with me. Don’t walk away from me. I will still call tomorrow.

He did more than call that night. As the movie started, he didn’t so much as flinch when your head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion. He only tucked an arm around your shoulders, only shifted you to be more comfortable as you used him as a personal pillow. He glared at everyone in warning not to grill you on the plot of the movie when you’d awoke mildly disappointed, he’d let you sleep on the drive home. He never once brought the fight back up.

And he still called the next day.

After your shift, he was the first voice you heard after dragging your feet into your apartment. A brief apology was exchanged before it was back to business as usual between you two. And somewhere between his rambles, you fell asleep with your phone balanced half-haphazardly between your cheek and shoulder. You could only dream of the grin he wore when he’d hear your soft snores over the line, quieting down immediately to let you rest. He never hung up – he was content to sit on a hushed line if only for the assuredness that you were finally resting.

The warmth no longer traveled down your spine, instead curling up timidly near that hole inside of you. You let it.

“Munson residence!”

That warmth that had found home in your chest still remains to this day, rousing at Eddie’s voice over the line. It’s nearly enough to make you cry – the relief that floods you just by the sound of him and his endless chipper. His optimism that always seems to exist, even in contrast with those harsh edges he tries to portray.

“Eddie,” you whisper, as if you’re not the only one in your apartment, “Can you… Are you free?”

Even after a year, you still sometimes felt guilt, asking so much of him. Asking so much, and giving so little in return.

But you weren’t the one who set that standard. Eddie had. Ferociously, fiercely, stubbornly. The insistence that you simply being was enough for him.

“For you, sweetness?” he chuckles lowly. He recognizes your voice immediately; you never have to say it’s you calling. You could have shrugged it off as Caller ID, but you knew the Munson’s phone didn’t have that. No, he recognized you by voice only. He’d once joked that only you would one day be able to rouse him from the dead, based on the ‘sweet melody alone’. Recognition in death – you had managed to burrow your way so deeply into his life, you’d earned recognition in death. “Always. What’s up?”

You could have just kept him on the phone. Had one of your infamous conversations about everything and nothing. Sat on the cold tiles of your kitchen and smiled like a child as you listened to him rant. But the cold chill of your lonesome apartment was becoming suffocating, and you remembered that take out in the fridge and the way one of his socks had ended up in your laundry last week. You remembered how you started keeping his favorite brand of beer in your fridge and how one of your pillows started to permanently smell like his aftershave.

He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. He had a key to your apartment. He had a space, here, in this lonesome apartment. And all you had to do was beckon to him, and he would come to fill it. Always.

“Can you come over?”

You don’t even have to explain yourself. He complies readily, whispers out a soft yes in the voice you’d also recognize even in death, and promises to be there within ten minutes.

He makes it within eight.

And you’re still leaning on your kitchen counter, your head still swimming dangerously with all the different ways you’d let down Nancy. Once upon a time, you might have worried about inviting him over, worried that your anxieties and your short-comings might bleed into your relationship with him. In the beginning, it had been simple enough. You kept him at an arm’s length away the moment you realized you couldn’t make yourself needed to him, not out of selfishness but out of fear. Fear, because if he didn’t need you, why would he stick around?

Because without need, if you did the wrong thing, there was no necessary thread tying them to you. Because without need, there was no chance for the day that you might find love in your grave robbings, and you couldn’t handle the thought of someone like Eddie Munson deciding you weren’t worth his time.

It hadn’t occurred to you for a very long time that maybe, possibly, you’d been going around the concept of love with a very wrong mindset.

Your safe place. That’s what the back of the van had become over these sticky summer nights – your safest refuge.

It was always the same scene; Eddie on his back beside you, lazily nursing a joint, while you sat up reading passages of the latest book you two had embarked on together. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was fantasy, and sometimes, it was just a reread. That night, it was a reread. The Hobbit.

“‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. ‘I remember the mountain well-’” you recited off of the page, when Eddie suddenly sat up abruptly and snatched the book from you.

“No, no, no!” he wagged his finger at you after he discarded his joint into the ashtray you’d made him start keeping in the fan, “Sweetheart, you’re doing the voices all wrong.”

You rolled your eyes at him, reaching to take the book back, “Not all of us have a Dungeon Master voice to whip out, Munson. Give it back.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Do I need to say please? I’ll say please.”

It was best like this. Just the two of you, away from everyone else. Some nights, the two of you hadn’t even needed a book to bond over. You’d just gaze at stars, or indulge in whatever weed he’d brought along with him. He never pressured you, though – if you shook your head at his offer of the joint, that was that. He seemed to apply that to most aspects of your friendship this last year.

You never had to prove anything to him. He saw your worth as if it were glaringly obvious, as if it were as simple of a concept as breathing. No extra effort needed from your end.

Just by being, you had managed to become something important to him. He needed you, if only because you were you.

“The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me,” he snorted, shifting so that his shoulder pressed against your own. A warmth spreads from the point of contact. “Let the master show you how it’s done.”

You tried to not let it show, but your grin was radiant. He was the master at those ridiculous voices, at theatrics and at bringing the story to life. You were transported from the shore of Lover’s Lake, in the back of that stuffy yet comforting van, to meadows of soft grass and hobbit holes of comfort. To a place where all the threats were mythical and all the expectations of you were released.

You’d spent the week helping Steve finish up his college plans. His parents had tried to pressure him into picking his top three universities, but the moment he had confided in you that he might prefer a community college to begin, you’d held his hand as you guided him through the process. A rewarding process, have no doubt, but it had left you numb and reeling. Sharing someone else’s stress, shouldering their burdens – it had been a bit much.

You needed this. You needed Eddie’s ridiculous voices and the sharp press of his shoulder against your temple.

“Falling asleep on me already?” he teased when he’d noticed how quiet you had gone.

“Never,” you lied through a yawn that quickly exposed you.

“Liar,” he huffed. You didn’t even need to glance up to confirm the smile you knew he wore. “We can head back home, if you need. I know it’s getting late-”

“No,” you quickly sat up, effectively making yourself dizzy, “No, I- It’s fine. I’m awake. I swear.”

“It’s okay that you were falling asleep,” he was quick to reach out, to tug you back down to his side, wrapping his arm around you to press you even closer than before, “I just don’t want to keep Cinderella out past Midnight.”

“It’s barely ten.”

“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he scowled as you pressed your grin against his t-shirt clad shoulder, “I’m serious, though. Do I need to take you home?”

“No, Eddie. I’m good.”

“Swear it? Swear you don’t have an early shift, or some… some obligation?”

“No shifts, no obligations.”

“And if I just kidnap you for the weekend? Am I going to have an angry mob at my doorstep, demanding your service?”

You smiled wider at the thought. The idea of him hiding you away, letting you live in this reprieve for the entire weekend. It was a nice thought, “I certainly wouldn’t complain.”

And so the two of you sat there like that for an hour more. Eddie coming up with ridiculous tones for the various characters, you slipping in and out of consciousness as his warmth stayed wrapped around him. You don’t even notice when the warmth he’d planted in you finally covers up that hole inside of you, not even missing the absence of that emptiness until Eddie went quiet.

In the silence, you noticed it.

The gash you’d grown accustomed to, the hole that had become an extra limb for you. Vanished. Gone. Disappeared without a trace.

It was a sudden and terrifying realization. Everything in you urged you to jump up, to scramble around you to find the darkness again, like a comfort blanket you couldn’t stand to lose. You went against the instinct, though, and rose slowly from Eddie’s hold.

In lieu of scrambling, you peered at Eddie curiously. “Hey, Eds. Can I ask you something?”

He nodded sleepily, almost as drowsy as you. You’re shocked when he shifts and instead of pulling you back to him, he opted to lay his head in your lap.

That hole was still gone. The weight of his head on your thighs, the feeling of his breath on your bare thigh. For a moment, you can’t breathe.

You’re warm. Not uncomfortably so, but encapsulated with an internal warmth. Like a fever spreading, the ice in your spine that you had lived with for years had begun to thaw.

“Why do you keep me around?” you whispered, still sitting stiffly, staring in awe down at the way he just nuzzled his face into your lap.

With his eyes still closed, face smooth from any worry from the question, he mumbled, “What do you mean?”

You only hesitated due to the thought crossing your mind; what if you bringing this up reminds him?

You thought back to the night in Harrington’s kitchen. The push and the pull, the bloody battle and the way he still called.

He was not as delicate as you took him for.

“I- What do you get out of this?” you couldn’t figure out how to phrase it correctly. You knew what you got out of this, but what does he get?

“Get out of what?”

“Get out of keeping me around.”

His eyes finally opened, twisting in your lap so that he could stare up at you. “You say that as if you’re forcing me to be your friend.”

I could be, that nagging voice in your mind whispered. You could very well be forcing him, and just be blinded because you were enjoying the summer of warmth that he carried with him too much to let him go.

“You never let me do anything for you,” you sighed, fingers finding themselves tangled in his roots against better judgment. But you needed to touch him, to ground yourself, as you admitted this hard truth, “You do shit for me all the time. You drive all the way out to this lake just because I complain about everything being too much. You’ve started playing chauffeur for the kids to give me a break. Harrington said you even offered to look at college brochures with him. And…. And I’m not stupid, Eds,” your voice shook as you looked down at him, a sudden feeling of undeserving striking you in your chest, “You do so much for me lately. And you don’t ask for anything in return – you don’t let me do anything in return. Why?”

His smile twisted with a hint of sadness, and brown eyes met your gaze without so much as flinching, “Sweetheart, why do you think you have to repay me for that stuff?”

“I-”

“No, hear me out,” he reached up, taking your hand out of his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, slowly dragging it down to rest on his sternum, “I chose to do that stuff. And, yeah, maybe I was trying to take some of that shit off your plate. But you didn’t ask me to. I chose to. I wanted to do those things, do nice things for you, because you won’t let anyone else.”

You bit back a scoff, “I let people do nice things for me-”

“You really don’t,” his hold on your hand tightened, “You really, really don’t. You constantly…. You just, you take care of everyone else, but you act afraid to let someone take care of you. People are allowed to take care of you, too, y’know? You should let them. They love you – they want to take care of you, just like you take care of them.”

They love you.

The air drained from your lungs in a slow, silent sigh. You waited a few minutes, but the oxygen never replenished as you tried to grasp his words.

They love you.

Why would they love me?

“Why wouldn’t they love you, sweetheart?” Eddie looked more concerned now, suddenly prepared to sit up and remove his head for your lap. But his hand still held yours tightly, still clung to you, “You know they love you, right? God, you gotta know that. We all love you.”

You hadn’t realized you’d spoken the bitter thought out loud until he looked at you, utterly heartbroken, in complete disbelief. “I…”

No. I don’t know that. What have I done to deserve their love?

“They need me, sure,” you started, narrowing your eyes at the breaks in the waves of Lover’s Lake, “I mean, I just try to make myself useful to them. It’s the least I can do when I… when they…” you struggled to get the words out. You saw that hole again, like a light at the end of the tunnel, but so far from the relief most mean by that metaphor. Something peeking around the corner, ready to devour you all over again. So you plunged, you prepared yourself for it to spring to life and take you whole as you nearly whimpered, “When they put up with me. It’s the least I can do when they put up with me.”

“No one puts up with you,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Least of all me.”

The deadliest of blows. He cracked your hardened surface with that, shook the foundations of every belief you’d held for eternity.

“Most of all you,” you corrected without thinking, “God, I- Eddie, seriously. What reason do you have for keeping me around? I don’t know how the fuck you put up with m-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you’d never heard him beg so painfully before then, “Please. Don’t… You want to know my reason?” you nodded numbly, finally looking to find him with wet eyes and lips pressed into a fine line, “Because you’re you. I… Fuck, I love you. I keep you around because you’re you. You’re good for me. Whether you believe it or not. You’re good for me just by being you, and there’s nothing you have to do to accomplish that,” you started to look away before he grabbed your cheeks, turning you to face him as he emphasized each word, “You don’t have to earn love. That’s not what love is. Got it?”

You looked into his eyes, and saw all the soft declarations of love echoed back to you, even from the very start.

‘Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.’

‘The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.’

The entire time you’d been so worried about taking care of everyone else, he’d been worried about taking care of you. Endless late night phone calls, careful check-ins when he saw the exhaustion take the frontlines, sparse fights about putting yourself first. The only thing he ever wanted from you was for you to take care of yourself.

While you were busy being there for everyone else, he was busy being there for you.

He never once made you dig to the bottom of his grave to find the warmth. He’d handed it over on a silver platter.

So how could you look him in his at that moment, and tell him that you didn’t ‘get it’? That you’d never been sure if what you were seeking from your friends was really love? That, really, you’d given up on being loved a long time ago, assuming it was asking too much?

How do you look him in his eyes in that moment and tell him you had long since declared yourself unlovable?

He didn’t make you say it. Only kept your cheeks pressed between his palms, as he leaned forward, forehead meeting yours and whispering words for only you, “I love you, no strings attached. You’re my… friend. I love you. Okay?”

No one had ever fought so valiantly to get the point across. Not just that night at the lake, but in the entirety of his friendship with you.

The hole slinked back behind the corner. The darkness decided it could wait another day. And in its place, warm brown eyes filled the void. Whether he even realized it or not.

You nearly believed him. Nearly. But you bit down hard on that belief, throwing it out of sight, and instead of echoing back the ‘okay’ you assumed he was seeking out, all you did was sob out another, “Why?”

When you collapsed into him, he held you. Your sobs remained dry, your confusion palpable as you clung to him and tried to let that belief envelope you like his arms had.

I love you.

How could someone love you?

He didn’t press it the way you thought he would. He didn’t scold you for continuing to question him and he didn’t lash out at your disbelief.

He just held you. Letting your face press into his neck as his fingers ran up and down your spine, giving it a moment before he started talking again.

“Your humor,” he hummed after a couple moments of silence, heavy breathing eventually evening out.

“What?”

“The way you take care of others,” he continued on like he hadn’t heard you, “That spark you get in your eyes when you tell someone about something good. A favorite book, movie, story from your day – whatever it is. The way you give the best hugs – and you don’t give me them nearly often enough. The way you snore, and the way you definitely deny snoring.”

You opened your mouth, about to lift your head and argue with him, but he just placed an encouraging palm on the back of your head to keep you close to him.

“The way your favorite color changes with the seasons. The way you only like artificial cherry flavoring, not the real stuff. The way you look at night when we’re driving and you’re just screaming your favorite lyrics. The way you look at me to see if a joke lands. The way you fuss about my wrinkled clothes, even when you also don’t care about the wrinkles in your own shirts. The way you take your coffee. The way you always offer to paint one of my nails to match yours. The way you treat your recipe for chocolate chip cookies like some top secret, government trade. But we both know it’s just some recipe from a cookbook you thrifted when you were ten. The way you get excited over the small things, like the cows we pass by on the way out here. They're always there, and you always point them out. The way you just… are.”

He didn’t have to say it. He was answering your question.

He was listing his whys.

“You don’t have to earn it,” he didn’t say the word, not this time. You felt it, “It just… it’s there. It’s there and it’s not going anywhere. I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

Loved. For the first time ever, it felt like a possibility; to be loved.

Eddie always knocks on your front door a certain way – a pattern he rarely strays from. But you can always tell. He’s the only fool who would find humor in knocking out such an annoying compilation of hits on the wooden panels until you finally unlatch the lock and open it to find him standing in your threshold.

His hair is frizzy and in a low ponytail, wearing a baggy band shirt and plaid pajama pants. He greets you with such a wide smile, your chest aches.

“Hey there, sweetness.”

You don’t say a word, just drag him inside before you wrap your arms around his waist. Ever since that night, and his admittance of enjoying your hugs, you made a conscious effort to hug him more often.

“Miss me?” he chuckles, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek as you softly pinch his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him only laugh harder once you pull away.

“Not at all,” you snark back as you make sure the door is securely shut and properly locked.

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope.”

He smacks a fist to his chest as if you had stabbed him with your words, “Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.”

“Get over it,” you tease. Your head has finally stopped swimming, your chest no longer tight with the fear of not being enough. Nancy is long forgotten as you say, “Have you eaten dinner?”

“Depends,” he hums as he toes off his boots, “If you’re offering to buy me some, then no, I definitely did not eat spaghetti with Wayne right before you called.”

You throw your head back laughing as he’s already making a beeline for your kitchen, digging out that damned takeout menu and reaching for the phone, already so sure of your order.

Knowing your order at restaurants. Without having to ask. Apparently, that was part of the whole ‘being loved’ gig.

Adjusting has taken months. Since that night in Eddie’s van, he’d kept his word. Not a day went by without him finding a way to remind you, whether it be by direct words or small actions, that he loved you. You both kept it under that friendly guise. He loved you in that familiar way, the way the others supposedly loved you. A way you could manage to recognize some days.

Other days were still rough. Days like today were still rough.

The takeout is ordered and Eddie sets up camp on your couch, rambling about something that had happened during one of the DnD nights he still hosted with the kids. Something about a dumb decision Mike did that cost most of the group their character’s lives. You have a hard time following along, and he’s quick to pick up on it.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you lean into the back couch cushion, smooshing your cheek as you watched him animatedly speak.

“Hm?”

“Bad day?”

He never judged you for the rough days. He never judged you for the days you still couldn’t find the love, even after he worked so virtuously to show it to you. He may never understand it, that hollow ache that resided in your darkest corners and whispered that none of it was real, but it never deterred him.

He loved you on good days, and he especially loved you on bad days.

You consider lying to him, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you so earnestly, “Yeah. It… yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks you, shuffling to be more comfortable where he sits as he motions for you to lay down. You do so immediately, head finding a home against his thigh and his fingers stroking over your cheek before they toy with the ends of your hair.

All you can do is shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about that fear of failing Nancy as a friend, especially when you know that wasn’t her take away from it. It felt silly now; all that overthinking, when you know now if you questioned her on it, all she would have seen from the day was a friend lending a caring ear. You know because you had asked her about it once, if she found your listening habits too callous, upon Eddie’s insistence.

She hadn’t. In fact, all she could do was thank you, had insisted that she was just grateful someone would listen to her ramblings. And you understood that, left it at that.

“Okay,” he murmurs, voice so quiet you nearly miss it. His fingers continue to play across your shoulders now, barely weighted against bare skin, “That’s fine.”

He didn’t mind if you didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t mind if you never spoke another word, if all you needed was him here. You just needed him close by and to sit with you, to make it all a little less much.

Nothing. He needed absolutely nothing from you, asked nothing of you. Because you didn’t have to earn this. All you had to do was simply be, and he would provide this.

Love. What an odd concept, to have found warmth in a grave you never even got the chance to dig your shovel into.

“Hey, Eddie?” his fingers pause at your croaking voice. You smile at his stillness, at the way he hums carefully in response, still trying to offer the silence you quietly begged for, “I love you.”

There’s more to unpack there. More than just familial love, more than just two friends that love each other without conditions. But tonight is not the night, and you both see that it is enough. There will be other nights to dig your claws in and to dissect what those three little words mean between you two. There will be other nights to consider how your other friends don’t have a permanent spare toothbrush on your bathroom counter or a space for their takeout in your fridge. But not tonight.

For tonight, this was enough. The quiet, and the warmth, the being was enough.

“I love you,” he emphasizes the last word, leaning down and his lips grazing your temple.

You notice the way he leaves off the too. He’d love you, even if you didn’t love him. You’d love him, even if he didn’t love you. Unconditional, no strings attached. A warmth you do not have to fight to earn. A rarity you never encountered before, and may never encounter again, but you have for tonight and for as long as he chooses to stick around.

Your shovel sits abandoned in a shed in the distance. Your fingernails are clean of the dirt. The graveyard, it seems, would go another night without its robber.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #yeah the archer has a chokehold on me #idk man this is scary to post a put... a lot of myself in here #my bad #3k celebration

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