#beeblisss

[sunder-soul]

thinkin about the hand thing

Stopppppp literally me constantly. His hands make me think filthy things and I simply won't be reasoned with

#beeblisss #tom riddle #ask #The HAND THING THO #Ugh I am Ruminating (salacious)

[heartpascal]

Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness

i would let you in

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.

▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!

▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….

▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed<;3)

masterlist | PART THREE

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.

You couldn’t help it.

It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.

But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.

It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.

You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.

But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?

Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.

You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.

Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.

You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.

There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.

They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.

Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.

It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?

It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”

You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.

So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.

She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.

You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?

“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”

“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.

“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”

“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.

“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.

“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.

“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.

You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.

When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.

The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.

So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.

The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.

And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.

“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.

He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.

Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.

Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.

But this, this was different.

Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.

And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.

You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.

When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.

So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.

“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”

“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”

“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”

“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.

Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.

“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.

“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.

“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”

You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.

“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”

“That’s dangerous.”

You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.

“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”

Tommy frowned, contemplating.

Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.

That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.

You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”

“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”

“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”

“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”

Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.

It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.

You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.

Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.

It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.

People were happier here, though.

You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.

Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.

You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.

The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.

You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.

“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.

“I didn’t—”

“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?

“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”

“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”

Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.

“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”

“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”

“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.

“Kid, we—”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”

Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”

It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.

They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.

“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.

“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.

“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.

You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.

It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.

It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.

For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.

Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.

You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.

It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.

You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.

Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.

Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.

So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.

It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.

Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.

The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.

You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.

It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.

You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.

A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.

You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.

Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.

It was too much.

Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.

This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.

Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.

You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.

Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.

You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.

“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?

“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”

You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.

But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.

It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.

She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.

“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.

“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.

“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.

“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”

He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.

It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.

You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.

With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”

Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.

Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.

Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.

When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.

It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.

When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.

And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.

But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.

He had half-expected for you to not answer.

Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.

“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.

“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.

Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.

The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.

“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”

“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”

He hated how much older you sounded.

“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.

“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”

Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.

Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”

“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”

You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.

At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.

“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.

Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.

“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.

“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.

But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.

“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.

You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.

“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.

“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.

“Tell them about my shop!”

Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.

“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”

“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”

You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?

“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”

He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.

It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?

Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.

“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.

PART THREE

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller father figure #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller angst #tommy miller father figure #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #tlou angst #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #heartpascal writes

[mrsbrookemunson]

For the insecurity prompt, could I request a nsfw scenario involving the reader feeling self-conscious about being quiet in bed? It'd be lovely to see Eddie being plenty turned on by a reader who is quieter during sex and not expecting a performance or forced moans.

Mhmmm— I love this one!!! I do feel there is a lack of diversity with in the nsfw Eddie community—reader is always loud, but what about the people who are quiet? We need to be represented!!!

Warnings: 18+, implied fem!reader, no use of 'y/n', insecure!reader (obvi), oral (f receiving), swearing, excessive use of the pet name 'baby' (I'm sorry), weird emphasizing, porn with a splash of plot, soft dom!eddie if you squint, slight aftercare, the fluffiest ending, most likely grammar and spelling errors, kinda shit writing, but hey—we all have our off days. I still hope you enjoy :)

Word Count: It's a blurb, so it's short and sweet.

Taglist: @strangerthingsstories5255 @totalmesstm @kiszkathecook @poofyloofy @beeblisss @stylesxmunson @munsonsguitarpick @mlvgren @dream-a-little-nightmare @munsonsuccubus @katsukisimpsblog @iheartyouyou @eddiebaemunson @emma77645 @eviethetheatrefreak @pappachismoth @erinsingalong @letitiasleftfoot @eddiesguitarskills @trixyvixx @myfangirlheartsblog @emxxblog @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @prettiest-angel @ajokeformur-ray @livsters @cherrycolas-things @chloe-6123 @hazydespair @wolfstarsiriusly @steveharringtonswifey-09 @avobabe87 @expiredcum21 @luna-munson83

Series Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist

~ Actions Speak Louder Than Words ~

Your back arched off the bed ever-so-slightly.

"Feels good, doesn't it baby?"

You nodded.

He mimicked you, tauntingly. "I know it does baby—shit—keep grinding on my face, just like that." He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you, setting a faster pace as his tongue flicked at your clit.

You let out a low hum, eyes rolling back into your head.

"So, wet for me—" He moaned into your folds.

You tried to respond with your own forced moan, but that made him stop abruptly.

"No, none of that fake shit, 'kay? Eyes on me—I know when I'm doing my job right. Just sit back and let me do my thing." When his mouth finds his way back into your pussy your eyes squeezed shut immediately. "Yeah—that's it." He sucks at your clit.

You whined, softly. "Eddie," you whisper. Your hand flies down to tug at his hair, roughly.

"Oh, fuck, baby—gonna make me cum and I'm just the giver here. See? No need for that pretty little mind of yours to go overthinking about things that don't matter, right? Right." His tongue slips easily into your hole, plunging in and down.

You tugged at his hair harder, making him moan loudly. You felt the bed begin to move as his own hips rut into the mattress.

"Keep rolling your eyes back like that f'me. Oh god," he moaned again. "You're so goddamn sexy, you know that?"

His nose brushed your clit, a breathy moan escaped you. Your hips start moving against his face faster, his tongue meeting your pace. Your right hand gripping his hair while your left one grips the bedsheet. Your toes curl as he laps his tongue over your clit over and over again. You almost begged him not to stop, but it all felt too good, you couldn't find it in yourself to speak.

Instead you indulged in the feeling of pleasure, selfishly.

"Gonna cum, baby?" he asked. His voice was high and breathy.

You nodded. And finally whispered a 'yes'.

"Fuck—me too. Gonna make me cum in my pants with how good you taste, and that face of yours. God, that face of yours." He chuckled, sending vibrations up your body. "The way your body reacts to me... Jesus, it by itself could send me to Hell with the thoughts it gives me." He hummed into you.

You shuddered, and squirmed. He had to press your hips down into the mattress with his hands just to get you to stop moving. But, he didn't mind, he loved the way you sighed, and the way you threw your head back, and the way you arched your back for him while you grind yourself into his face over and over again, tasting the sweet taste of you on his tongue, and—

"Fuck, fuck—baby, I'm gonna cum," he whimpered. He dug himself deeper into your pussy, set on getting you to cum on his face. "C'mon baby, c'mon please cum for me, need you to cum on my face."

He heard your breath hitch in your throat. Your chest heaving as you choked on your own breaths that quickened.

"Yes just like that, baby, just like fucking that," he growled.

"I'm cumming, Eddie," you warn, in an airy whisper.

Incoming slick covered his nose, mouth, and chin. Moaning when he felt a new wetness, a sweeter, more richer taste that graced his tongue. You loudly sighed, mouth opened in a silent scream as your body convulsed, waves of pleasure rifled through you. Eddie's moans got bolder as he drank in your cum, harshly humping the bed as he whimpered and cried into your pussy when he came along only moments after you.

You slightly whined due to overstimulation, but he was quick to pull away to get a closer look at your dazed expression. He stood upright off the bed. "Be right back," he mumbled.

You only nodded, watching him, lazily, as he ran out of the room. Only a minute later did he come back in with some water, and a clean face. "Got you this," he said, setting it down on the nightstand beside you.

He looked down at you with a soft smile in which you returned. He reached out and brushed some strands of hair away from your face. "I want you to know that it doesn't—it wouldn't matter if you were loud or quiet in bed. That would be weird if I only liked you because you were loud during sex."

You laughed a little. "Yeah... just a bit, but it happens, you know?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, well... you have nothing to be worried about with me. I love you, and you... I hope you know that you can turn me on with just one look—even a hug or a light touch on my arm for christ sakes," he claimed, dramatically. "There's not another person in this world that gives me the same effect you give me..." His smile turned sheepish. "Which reminds me that I need to go clean up. But, you—you stay right here. Get under the covers, get comfortable, I'll be right back." He rushed to his drawers, pulling out a new pair of boxers, nearly tripping on the way out to the bathroom.

You found yourself smiling as he did so. You got up and grabbed a shirt and a pair of his boxers to put on yourself and got under the covers on his bed. The smell of his cologne, the smell of weed and cigarettes, all in which lingered on his bed engulfed you. You found peace within it. Feeling a warmth in the center of your chest as you closed your eyes.

You soon felt the mattress dip beside you, a new weight of Eddie's arm around your stomach, pulling you into his chest.

"I love you." He pressed a sweet kiss against your temple. Another one on your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat. "I love you too," you replied.

Then his heart skipped a beat.

Next Chapter: ... We don't know, yet.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie angst #eddie stranger things #eddie #eddie fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things season four #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader

[hairlessgoblin]

II. Passively Possessive

Part 2 of:

A/N: Im excited to have you guys read this second part. I took a while and it might not be grammatically correct but I did my best. I hope you enjoy it!

CREDITS AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

@saradika for the beautiful dividers

@galesleftearring for being my first galemancer and tumblr mutual

@the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep @yolo-swaginz @beeblisss for reblogging part 1 and being absolute sweethearts 🥹

The next literacy class had come around quicker than expected. Not to mention how paranoid you were about bumping into Gale again. You had made an effort to keep your mind away from your last awkward interaction. Sadly, every time you sat in a classroom, you painfully cringed at the memory.

 

Now again, on your way to class, you decided to stop by the bathrooms. You fixed your hair in the mirror and placed your glasses back on your face. Coming out, you bump forcefully into someone.

 

“Watch it! What in the hell has got you in a hurry?” the person on the other side of the door complains. You step out, and a tall half-orc looks down at you. "Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He steps forward, closing the space between both of you. Your back is pressed against the textured wall. “Step back now, or I will make your face burn.” You warn them, feeling the hot breath of their smirk on your face. "Mmm, I can tell you’re fiery. The tips of your elf ears are almost glowing.” He laughs. You waste no time in conjuring a fireball into your fingertip and pointing it bellow his chin.

 

“You are lucky. I value my education over incinerating your thick skull. Get out of my way or burn.” The half-orc is taken aback and opens the way for you to get out. You swiftly turn the corner and bump chest to chest with the one and only Gale. Your complexion was a shade of raging red and your pupils dilated with the full concentration of your spells. The warm residual arcana flows through your body.

 

Gale looks into your eyes, trying to bring you back from the anger and wrath boiling in your blood. “Don’t let him get to you. Such a dimwitted sorcerer doesn’t deserve your attention or your gaze.” He places his hands on your shoulders. He was angry that someone had the audacity to treat you this way. You feel your muscles start to relax with his words. You take a deep breath.

 

"...and I would have to get a new desk partner. That would certainly be a hassle; I haven’t found anyone as competent as you for the position.” You let out a laugh. His eyes are bright, and he feels accomplished to have lightened up the mood.

 

“Thank you.” You feel the stinging of your body dissipate and transform into butterflies in the depths of your belly button.

 

“You are most welcome. Shall we continue with our academic duties?” He offers his arm, knowing your body had produced a copious amount of energy that faded as quickly as it was summoned. You nod, resting your hand on his forearm. You walk slowly to the classroom.

 

 

You were astonished to see the size of his house. Gale had invited you over to study in his tower. The place felt endless, most walls covered from the floor to the ceiling in books. The salty air from the ocean coming in from the open windows. The sun was soon to set but Gale had already prepared a lamp on the desk for you both.

 

“I was thinking, maybe we could try our protection spells on a notebook first?” You ask.

 

You had been tasked with creating a “Pushback Literature Protection spell” for your favorite book. You had chosen ‘The Annals of Romance’ it was a bit embarrassing. A novel of romance, betrayal, and undying love. With insight into man's most troubling questions about life and himself.

 

“I’ll volunteer my journal; it's filled with exceptional poetry and a few mediocre illustrations of Tara.” Gale chuckled as Tara slept peacefully on top of a bookshelf next to the library window.

 

You stand next to him and watch him recite the incantation from your notebook. His hands expertly flick and swish in the air. You shiver at the thought of his hands on your body but quickly push the thought away so as not to cause yourself any embarrassment by blushing. Lights and symbols seemed to fall from his palms onto the notebook. “That shall do. Should we test it?” He asks.

 

“Allow me; you already offered your notebook.” You take the leather book in your hands and unclasp the bronze buckle keeping it locked. You open his notebook, and a gust of wind throws you into the nearest tower of arranged books. You hit your head against something hard. You hiss and open your eyes. A statue of Mystra seems to look down on you mockingly when you hear Gale running to you. “Gods, I apologize I think it was overpowered. Are you alright? Did you hit yourself?” His voice almost cracked, worried he had caused you any harm. “Don’t worry, you did great. Im honored.” You laugh and touch your head. There is a wet spot on your crown, you press through your hair with your fingertips. Blood. Looking back at your hand, you feel dizzy. You didn’t do well with blood, and the hit from the protective spell wasn’t helpful.

 

Strong arms pick you up from the floor. You want so badly to sleep the pain off. “Stay awake, love. Whatever you do, don't close your eyes, alright? I will set you down on the bed and get something to heal you.” You listen to Gales dancing voice. His accent thick from the strength of carrying you up the stairs. You just look at him, his nose, and the curve of his lips. You reach out to touch his beard, and his eyes meet yours. His frown turns into somewhat sad puppy eyes, worried but enjoying this bit of contact before setting you on the bed and running out of the room. “TARA!” You hear him call out down the hallway.

 

The bed sheets are made of beautiful silk, a deep shade of purple. The pillow under your head was soft and smelled of rosemary and peppermint. Looking up, you see a sheer canopy with a small blue light floating down. You shut your eyes, feeling your head pulsating. You feel someone touch your hand—a cold and small hand. A woman sits beside you on the bed; her glowing aura seems unreal , her slick black hair almost touches the bed; and her blue eyes search into you. “As beautiful and powerful as you are, you can't be a distraction. He is meant for far more. He is meant for me.” She turns translucent until you can't feel her presence.

 

You hear Gales heavy steps come from the door. "I'm sorry to have taken so long.” He presses a damp towel on top of your head. You try sitting up, but your strength fails you. You feel yourself getting pale. Gale grabs you around your waist from above and pushes you up. He brings a small vial to your mouth, signaling for you to tilt your head. You think back to the mysterious woman and her convincing argument.

 

‘Distraction? Are they trying to get rid of me?’

 

You turn your head away from the vial and wince at the movement. Gale seems to read your hesitant gesture. "Andromeda,” he whispers to you. Your eyes are watering; you don't want to believe he could hurt you, but he could. “This is a brew of ashes of balsam and salt. Please trust that I want only what is best for you.” You look at him; his big brown eyes are watering too. You put your lips on the vial and tilt your head. He places a hand behind your head, keeping the towel in place.

 

“Please rest, I swear no harm will come to you. Tara will sleep here in case you need anything. Just let her know, alright?” You hum in agreeance. You wish you had the courage to touch his face again and let him know you trust him, but your body feels sore and the words seem to have left your mouth. You lay down, and Gale pulls the silk blanket from under you to tuck you in. Before he turns to leave, you grab his wrist and hold the edge of his hand. “Thank you." you whisper, falling into the darkness behind your eyelids.

 

“You are most welcome." You feel a kiss pressing on your forehead. You fall into a deep slumber.

 

 

“Come see.” You hear a faint whisper inside your head. You wake up and it's still dark outside. The room was cold, and Gales beloved Tara slept comfortably on a padded chair next to the bed. You slip onto the floor quietly, following the hums calling out to you.

 

The hallway was glowing with the pearly light of the moon shining through the mosaic window. One of the last doors creaked open, the hums becoming moans.

“Come see, he is meant for me. He is meant for the weave." The voice whispers externally. You look through the small space of the open door—a small prayer room. Your breathing gets caught up in your chest, and your pulse quickens. You have never seen someone like this.

 

Gale was suspended midair, completely naked. His strong back faces the door which you hid behind. He was in a trance, his eyes glowing white, and his lips parted. He moaned and threw his head back in pleasure. You shut the door, feeling deep guilt for imposing.

 

It seems you have angered his goddess, and she is threatening you away from the wizard. Why? Why you? You have met Gale three times and haven’t shared a moment of passion together. But she knew more. She saw the force bringing both of you together. She saw the unbreakable connection you would have if she let your relationship run its course. It would ruin her plans completely; she saw the priority you could become for him and how she would remain but a figure on an obsolete altar.

 

She was willing to do anything to stop that from happening.

#mystra if you’re reading this i’m beating you with a lead pipe #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale x tav #bg3 #bg3 tav #gale dinner #gale fanfic #im crying

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Taglist Housekeeping!

Hi everyone - due to my extensive hiatus, I know that a lot of people are no longer in the fandom/on tumblr/have changed their URL.

So, I’m going to post my Taglists below. If you want to continue to remain on the Taglist, please let me know (comment here, send me an ask, or DM me).

IF YOU DO NOT TELL ME,  I’m going to assume that you won’t mind being removed!

By the way, while you're here, check out my recent works linked on my pinned post! I've posted a lot since you've last been notified!

SFW Taglist (No Smut): @emilysprentisss , @fbivestreid , @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @dreatine , @shilohpug , @draw-back-your-bow , @gspenc , @hopefulfangirl24 , @a-broken-pact , @lotties-journey-abroad , @beeblisss , @reidsbookclub , @allthecolorsneverseen , @lovingloony , @sydneekomspacekru , @random-human-person , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @sapphic-prentiss , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @violetclifford , @averyhotchner , @strictlyforliterarypurposes , @auspiciousharriet , @thotforcriminalminds , @spencerreidsmommy , @wentz2005 , @liaaacantwrite , @blxndeprincess , @safespacespence , @lovejules888 , @jayyeahthatsme

Complete Taglist (All Works): @shadyladyperfection , @princesssmooshie , @reid-me-a-story , @kya-li , @nyx2021 , @bates-mattel , @xoxospencerreid , @cynbx , @hotchandspencearedilfs , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @rainsong01 , @addievermore ,  @justaparttimeauthor , @muffin-cup , @calm-and-doctor , @bitterpeachs , @fueled-by-fanfic , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @gretavankleep37 , 

TB&TB: @shadyladyperfection , @mikariell95 , @thatoneawesomechicka , @skiller0dani , @allthecolorsneverseen , @itsmytimetoodream , @beeblisss , @moondustmemories , @sydneekomspacekru , @hotchandspencearedilfs , @materialisthicc , @random-human-person , @dontcallmekittens , @sapphic-prentiss , @reid-me-a-story , @rexorangecouny , @libidinexx , @masumiyetimziyanoldu , @a-girl-interupted , @rainsong01 ,  @addievermore , @muffin-cup , @calm-and-doctor , @bitterpeachs , @sayhi00 , @phantombaby , @hadeez , @reeidd , @reidslefteyebrow , @fightingdragonswithwho

#housekeeping #this is going to be a pain in the ass because of the tag limit #pls be patient with me #masterlist

[divineecelestial]

TAGLIST FOR PRETTY GIRL [3]

@juleshadalittlelamb @angel21356 @mrsjellymunson @pipipipopoposstuff @hotbrownie69 @angelkat1013 @thebiggestscamislife @lostinheavensworld @cherridile @lovejamespotter @secretdryrose @saucypeanutt @stardustingold @i-h4temyself @dani-is-a-princess @brittney69 @alysonmelody @beeblisss @hi-im-arie @depressedacidtest @ttsbaby01 @alyssa743 @cellophanefkatwings @unfocused81 @shady-the-simp @mrslovesmayahawke @let-love-bleeds-red @walleloveseve @forevermineliv @adaydreamaway08 @xyzstar @imaautisticchicken @sweetashoneyhoney @yaspillz @kennafild @gyriffndorkate @furiousladyking @nevermoreraven1

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Hi! so, I tried to delete a sideblog today and accidentally deleted everything. everything as in the blog I've had for half a year, EVERYTHING! and apparently there is no way back, so here I am, kinda in hell, most likely not sleeping at all tonight, but I'm tagging my all of you because please, I am freaking out

Regular tag list: @kbakery @alexxavicry @yourfavoritefangirl @hotchandspencearedilfs @sweetestconsblog @pastelbabygirl19 @suitcasesquid @itseightbeats @personwholovesfandoms @calmspencer @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @augustlikesdeath @ev3r-land @pauline5525mgg @lovejules888 @scoopsahoykeery @shinypeachkitten @cupidsclarity @kazeddie85 @nia-um @spencer-reid-wonderland @evansflowers @flavorlesscheeto @justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @glixxr @poemsforparker @impossibledreamanchor @preciousbabypeter @beeblisss @soultrysworld @woofley @w-wolfhxrd @busybeingtrash @thehuntresswolf @paperbackprettyboy @alina02 @danielle143 @booksarekindaneat @lovelyxtommy @bluepeacheslandia @hoeshii @georgiapeaches_world 

#also I didn't have a list of my moots saved on my pc #so I don't remember them all #I would tag you all but my memory is brain is really weird right now #lea’s butterfingers made her go from 1.5k to 0 in one second

[muertawrites]

@beeblisss babychild i'm in the middle of preventing a full on mental breakdown and these tags made me feel so fucking seen

#muerta's inbox #literally posting this from a mcdonald's parking lot after eating some nuggets to make up for the lack of stability in my life

[sunder-soul]

oi oi! hope you’re well.

just wanted to say I think lots of us here would follow you to ao3 if you decided to switch over to there. though I have seen and follow some accounts who post snippets of the fics they post and link their ao3 to read the rest. maybe splitting the two sites half in half could work? where tumblr is used for update announcements/general chill place where people can still engage pretty easily and ao3 for posting your work and the feedback for there? maybe? idk?

my brain is mush so apologies if this sounded weird

anywho, take a shot every time I say I love your work (I love your work)

Ya I'd defo keep this blog up for asks and messages etc.!

I've had fun and met some really cool people on tumblr, but I was a happier and more fulfilled writer when I was only posting on Ao3 so I think I do just have to go back to that.

Thank you so much 🥰❤️❤️❤️

#beeblisss #Ask

[okruee]

if u got a good enough computer to run tha sims trois, would you consider making cc for that game or nah? I fuck w ur work and the sims 3 is the superior game in almost every way. It would be baller

Omg I don’t know the first thing about making cc for ts3 so probably not 😔✌️

#ask #ruereplies #beeblisss

[frostedfaves]

achoo

we are in a panorama right now, please no sneezing

#beeblisss #asks

[mrsbrookemunson]

Request for the 30-days-of-insecurities-thingy, smile. I'm very insecure of my smile because i got bullied a lot for it.

Could I get tagged??🙏🙏

But, of course, @maddymadquinn !!! When I read this, I knew it had to be the first part to my insecurity series, and I hope I did your request justice.

Warnings: no use of 'y/n', gn!reader, use of pet names like 'sweetheart', and 'love', insecure!reader (obvi), intrusive thoughts, self deprecating thoughts, Eddie being in love with you, 'L' bombs all over the place, bullying, fluffy, kinda rushed ending, most likely typos, and what the request says-it's all about teeth and your smile-I tried to keep it basic, if you have braces or a gap tooth or whatever, it'll fit in with the story. Enjoy :)

Word Count: 2225

Taglist: @strangerthingsstories5255 @totalmesstm @kiszkathecook @poofyloofy @beeblisss @stylesxmunson @munsonsguitarpick @mlvgren @dream-a-little-nightmare @munsonsuccubus @katsukisimpsblog @iheartyouyou @eddiebaemunson @emma77645 @eviethetheatrefreak @pappachismoth @erinsingalong @letitiasleftfoot @eddiesguitarskills @trixyvixx @myfangirlheartsblog @emxxblog @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @prettiest-angel @ajokeformur-ray @livsters @cherrycolas-things @chloe-6123 @hazydespair @wolfstarsiriusly @steveharringtonswifey-09

Series Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist

~ Just Smile ~

"You would look prettier if you smiled more."

"Why don't you ever smile?"

"Just smile."

You're used to comments like that, often hearing them from your classmates at Hawkins High...

But, here's the thing—

#1: My Smile

You hate your smile, often giving people the closed-mouth smile or a tight thin-lipped smile that doesn't quite ever reach your eyes. But, you refuse to smile with your teeth.

This makes one day very hard for you every time it comes.

Picture Day.

A day made from Hell to torture you, where people reassure you—"Oh!, it's not that bad..." or "Everyone looks bad in school photos." Really? Tell that to the Queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham, or Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, or Heather Holloway, or Nancy Wheeler—even Robin seems to pull out a good one.

But, you?

Freshman Year—

"Big smile!" the photographer instructed.

And did you give her one-flashing your teeth... only to receive said photo later on just to cry to your mom about how bad it looked... and that your teeth looked wrong. The demon in your head won the longer you stared at the photo.

"Honey, it's fine—no one likes their school photos."

It was after all the other girls and boys bragging about their photos did you swear you'd never smile with your teeth in photos again.

Sophomore Year—

You prepared yourself, watching the person before you take their picture. Hearing the lady call 'next' with a short glance toward you. You took a deep breath, walking to the seat. When you sat down, your heart began to race a little—a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It felt as though things were moving in slow motion, a deep, patronizing voice, "Give me a big smile". The lady demonstrated, exaggeratedly.

Your eyes flickered to a group of your classmates, snickering at you with pointed fingers. They taunted your smile with their own.

"Big smile!" the lady repeated.

You heard the laughs of the group echoing in your ears, you quickly revealed your teeth in a wide grin. The flash of the camera temporarily blinding you.

"Next!'

You blinked a few times before moving along. You shuffled past the group until you heard the call of your name from one of them. With that you spun around to face them with nervous, wide eyes, and a once again, pounding heart.

One of the teenagers smiled at you, a fake, catty, insulting smile as they stalked closer to you. "Thought you'd want to know you have something—" They gestured to their mouth, specifically their teeth "Right there."

One of their friends snorted loudly in the back.

You frowned and went to the bathroom in a slight rush to check it out. When you found your own reflection in the mirror you bared your teeth only to find... your teeth—your smile.

All you saw was yourself.

Quickly understanding, you felt yourself falling apart—

Is that why they laugh at you when you smile and say hello passing them in the halls?

You thought you heard it in their tone—the fakeness of it all.

You ripped up your school photo when you got it after witnessing the same group as before commenting on it with their giggles and chuckles. You blocked your face with tape in your yearbook, so you'd never have to see yourself looking back.

Is that why they all laughed when you signed their yearbook the previous year? You only dug yourself farther into a hole, thinking about what would happen next.

That's when you swore you'd never smile again.

Junior Year—

The year you got a certain metalhead's attention.

He was in the same grade as you, and you shouldn't have even met, but you purposely ditched picture day and your mom forced you to go to retake day. Turns out you weren't the only one who hated this day.

The two of you grumbled under your breath, overhearing him next to you caught your attention.

"Mom forced you to do this too?" you asked.

"Uncle."

You chuckled, breathily. "What was his excuse?"

His posture straightened. "'You can't just run away and hide when you don't want to do something, boy! You have to stand up to it!'" he imitated this so-called 'uncle's' voice.

You giggled, but stopped when you suddenly felt his eyes on you. You dared to look and saw his gaze on your teeth. You cleared your throat and turned away from him.

You missed the way he frowned, as he missed the sight of your smile and the sound of your laugh in just seconds.

"What about you?" he chimed from behind you.

"Huh?" You kept your guard up, still turned away from him.

"Your mom's motive?"

"Oh—yeah! " You swallowed. "That I'll regret it one-day." You shook your head. "I highly doubt that though."

"Why didn't you attend picture day?"

"Tried to pull a you—ditch—avoid it..." you paused. "Run away from it." You suddenly found the palm of your hand more interesting than the beautiful boy behind you—actually wanting to talk to you!

You heard him chuckle. "Sounds like you and my uncle think the same of me."

"I don't know you—but I don't think you're a cult leader, that's for sure."

"But, most people do, hence why I try to get away with not doing this.” He gestures to the setup in front of you two. “Have no doubt they write freak over my face, or draw devil horns over my head in their little yearbooks."

There was a beat of silence and you could feel the slight nudge of his foot against yours.

You bit your lip, thinking about what he said. What he admitted to you so effortlessly. How could he trust you so fast without even knowing your name—who you are?

You sigh, "I hate my smile."

"C'mon, I just saw it and it's—"

"Ugly—I know."

"No, I was gonna say—"

" Next!"

You don't look back when you walk up ignoring Eddie.

"Show me a big smile!" she asks.

You, however, do not, giving her only a neutral expression. She takes the picture and looks down at it, uncomfortably.

"Uhhh... want me to take another one?"

"No." You left, hastily.

Eddie ignored the call for him as with narrowed eyes, watching you leave, he sets his own personal goal—

To get you to smile for him one day.

Senior Year—

"Ready for picture day, sweetheart?" Eddie asked, placing a sloppy kiss onto your cheek.

You grumbled, wiping his kiss away. "No."

He placed yet another kiss on your cheek in replacement of the old one. "I know, I know." He drummed a steady beat against the sides of your torso. "But, you look beautiful today, but then again you always do."

You grew flustered. "Thanks," you whispered.

"Next!'

You walked up to the seat and took your place.

"Big smile!"

You glared at the lady. "Seriously? I thought we were past this now."

Your eyes flickered to Eddie who gave you an encouraging thumbs up and a nod with an annoyingly cute smile on his face. That was enough for you to muster up a small closed-mouth smile and that was enough to make Eddie's heart soar.

Safe to say, he accomplished his goal.

Present—

Eddie did not accomplish his goal.

God, you haven't smiled in a week—a week! And at this point he thought he was going to lose his mind.

You've been having a tough week. With your allergies acting up, to school and work stressing you out, to even those special, rare moments of silence you have, only to have them be interrupted by one thing or another. And he tried, he tried to get you to even break a little smile for him, but he just couldn't do it.

Something had to be wrong.

Something was wrong, on your side of the story. Work, school, allergies, and lack of peace haven't been the only things keeping you up late at night. It was this intrusive thought every time you looked in the mirror, it was the people you interacted with at work whose gaze simply rested on your smile that made you falter, the once in a while backhanded comments people would make. You couldn't find it in yourself anymore to smile or even laugh—you felt exhausted and defeated.

Because it was you, your smile, something you owned—and people didn't like it. And at times you think you're cursed.

It's you.

You stumbled around your room, picking up random pieces of trash off the floor, and tidying things up before bed. You felt a slight pressure in between your eyebrows from wanting to cry a few times during your episodes.

You sighed and collapsed onto your bed. Just before you were about to get comfortable you heard a faint tapping on your window. You jumped at the sound, until you saw a familiar ring adorning a finger. You got up and walked over to the window, opening it.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, tiredly.

He only smiled. "I got some stuff for you." His eyes glanced behind you. "Can I come in?"

You rolled your eyes and moved to the side, giving him room for him to enter. "Come on in, Prince Charming."

His smile got wider, stepping inside, and nearly tripping on a small stack of books near your window. He revealed a bouquet of your favorite flowers. "For you." He handed them to you. You took them, with a curious expression. Suddenly, he's rifling through a plastic bag he brought. "Okay, so I got Breakfast Club, Nightmare on Elm Street, I even brought The Outsiders, and that other movie you like uh—" He read the title. "Some Kind of Wonderful."

Your eyes widened. "You brought all of those."

"Well, I thought we could have a little movie night," he replied, nonchalantly. "I also brought your favorite snacks and candy, even your favorite drink." He looked at your dumbfounded face. He set down the bag and brought his hands up to caress your upper arms. "Look, I know you've been having a bad week and I want to make it a little better."

Your eyes avert away from him. You sniffled, holding the flowers closer to your chest. "I don't deserve you, you know."

He shook his head. "Not true."

You argued, "No, no it is true, you deserve someone who you can show off to—to prove those jerks from school wrong, and I-I can't do that."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Tears rimmed your eyes. "Eddie, why are people so mean?"

He was taken aback. "Sweetheart..." He gently took the flowers out of your hands and placed them on your dresser. He pulled you into his chest. "What's wrong? Did someone say something to you?"

You nodded. "Yes..." You cry into his shirt.

"Who? I'll go kick their ass right now."

"No! It's—" You found yourself becoming embarrassed. "it's not just one person—so many people just—" You struggled to get the words out. "I just want to be able to smile without feeling judged—I feel like I'm forced to remain in bitch-face mode just so I don't have to deal with people staring or commenting or doing something that revolves around that—especially our classmates.” You pulled away to look him in the eyes. "I just want to feel beautiful when I smile Eddie."

He looked at you in shock at your confession. He knew you hated your smile, that was the start of you two, but hearing it now as someone more than a stranger was heartbreaking to him. Seeing the one he's so so in love with falling apart in front of him over something he couldn't stop thinking about for months and months.

"God, sweetheart, don't you see I'd do anything to keep you smiling."

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"I know you hate your smile, but god—I love it. I've loved it ever since I met you, and from that moment I wanted to make you smile everyday. Lights up my world and shit, if I'm being honest." He seemed nervous, fidgeting with the ends of your shirt.

"You mean it?" Your voice slightly cracked as the emotions of love rushed through you. You're almost starstruck by him. Over the moon. Your heart flutters and your stomach flips seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

Has he always looked at you that way? Have you just never noticed?

Truth is: Yes, he has, and no... you didn't.

"Jesus, yes, you're so beautiful and that smile of yours is beautiful," he pauses. "And who fucking cares what anyone says? Or thinks? Fuck them!"

You laughed.

His eyes widen as he stumbles back with a dazed expression. "I think I just died—" He dramatically falls on the bed. "And went to heaven," he finished. "Are you an angel?"

You laugh again, this time louder. "Stop it," you squeal.

"I'm serious." He pulls you over to him. You slot between his legs as he looks up at you with a slight pout. "I want you to talk to me when you're feeling insecure about yourself. I don't want you bottling up your feelings." He cups your face with the warmth of his hands to make sure he has your full attention. "I love every single thing about you, sweetheart. And I'll do anything and everything for you to realize that, no matter how long it might take. "

If only you knew just how serious he was.

Next Chapter: Actions Speak Louder Than Words (nsfw)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie angst #eddie stranger things #eddie #eddie fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things season four #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader

[frostedfavesnsfw]

yknow what’s better than sex? a good night’s rest you fucking sleep deprived queen

at least I’m still a queen 🥲

#beeblisss #don’t be mad 🥺 #asks

[pretty-boys-book-club]

WHAT

OH MY, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH 😭😭😭

Tagging some of my lovely mutuals as a way of saying thank you! Just letting you know I appreciate you :)

-> @alexontheinternet@beeblisss@breedablespencie@brilliantbimbo@broken-booksmart-prettyboys@broken-stardust@captainbarness@dudeitiskarev@ellcsgreenaway@emmyraebird@fbiwindbreakers@fightingdragonswithreid @foggyblues-ralvez@lesbian-of-nine@lil-stark@madsgraygubler@masterwords@matthewgraygublerwife@meganskane@meggie-m00n@mrsobrien888@nocturnal-spence@ofpoppiesandpietro@peter-beter-barker@ralvezhq@reesespieces10123 @reidirect @reidsbookclub@reidsbookmark@reidsgublerwife@reidsmilf@rexorangecouny@ropoto@safespacespence (aka @brainextension) @sideblogforcrimpy (aka @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits)@silverhetdanes @simmonsmilf@sinfulspencer@softreidx@spence-der@spencerreidat3am@spookydrreid@ssa-sarahsunshine @ssahotchnerxx @ssavanessa22@still-dead@sweetandsunny @tobias-hankel@whispering-woods@writer-in-theory @writing-my-mind-off @writingquillsandpainpills

#300 followers #i can't even believe this #thank you so much for following #grateful cat #lovely moots 💕 #i love all of yall

[heavenlybarnesss]

@beeblisss Oh, did I miss you 👀

#ed warren #patrick wilson #the conjuring #ed warren x reader #annabelle #the conjuring 2

[hufflautia]

Are you in love with me?

This can’t be happening, Slytherin thinks as he approaches her slowly. I shouldn’t have run out of the room. He can talk to other girls if he wants to, it doesn’t matter to me. 

Her anger dissolves into something else. It is another feeling—one that she’s afraid to address. 

A thought breaks free from the confines of her stubborn heart. 

But it does.  

Hufflepuff lifts his hand to caress her cheek, effectively making her mind go blank. 

“Are you in love with me,” he asks softly.  

Slytherin swallows with difficulty, her heart pounding. He’s so close she can make out the tiny speckles in his earthy brown irises. “No.” 

There’s a moment in which they stand there in silence, and the universe holds its breath. It exhales when Hufflepuff leans in and kisses her so sweetly that she is left dazed after they pull apart. She doesn’t remember tangling her fingers into his hair nor can she recall the moment he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer as their lips moved in unison. 

His gaze lingers on her parted lips. 

“Are you in love with me now?”  

Slytherin lets out a small laugh, and he revels in the warmth of her breath brushing against his skin.  

“Not yet,” she murmurs, her cheeks kissed with a tint of rosy pink. “Ask me again tomorrow.”   

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll put it at the top of my to-do list.” 

She hums happily. “And you?” she muses. “Are you in love with me?”  

“I’ll have to think about it.” He gives her a grin, one so warm and utterly Hufflepuff-like that she feels as though she will melt in his arms. “I suppose you’ll have to ask me again tomorrow. Until then, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Hufflepuff smirks when she raises her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by his bluntness. 

“You know,” he tilts her chin up, “for decision-making purposes.” 

Her heartbeat quickens. 

Fin. 

~

MASTERLIST (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง << Sometimes you can’t see the embedded link because tumblr is built different. If it doesn’t work, go to my main page; the masterlist is pinned.

This ficlet is inspired by Chapter Three of Happy Birthday by Ohhhmyloki. 

Author’s note: This may be the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoyed! Comments and reblogs are appreciated. 

TAGS UNDERNEATH “Keep Reading”: 

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