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chrollohearttags · 8 months

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silver foxes

the men who are twice your age and half the headache. The ones who show up to your doorstep, flowers in hand and gifts in the other before taking you out on a date. That’s only after he told you to go crazy with his credit card to buy the perfect dress and heels for the occasion. The kind of a man that opens your door, drapes his coat around you and even puts it on the ground so you don’t dare splash your feet with that puddle. He’s the man that teaches you never to settle or compromise on your standards…to always expect princess treatment and nothing less of being regarded as his queen. The man that has your bills paid on time on every month before you even have time to look at them and tells you put your money up because hey, he’s got your hair and nails covered too. Five star dinners, always dressed in designers and smells like Tom Ford cologne. He’s also the man that brings you home after a night out and undresses you right there in the doorway because you looked far too sexy in that tight red dress..accenting every curve on that beautiful body. He’s the man that starts out with slow, sloppy kisses that trails from your lips, neck and down to your belly button but disrespectfully devours your pussy through the seat of those panties he can’t even be vexed to pull off. Only tugging them to the side long enough to spit onto those folds. Honestly, he doesn’t see himself as your sugar daddy or anything but he can’t help but get a taste of that sweetness. Especially when it’s trickling down his chin; staining his stubble and slightly wrinkled cheeks. Right before he decides to hoist your legs midair and bounce you up and down on his cock. You’re thinking to yourself how he possibly harbors so much strength for a man who’s past middle aged but he’s fucking you so good, like someone in his prime youth that you don’t ever question his skills. You claw his back, scream his name and even come twice as he’s twisting you to his leisure. In a full nelson with your panties tucked between your teeth; that dick curving inside of you..a hand on the back of your head and pushed face down into the pillow of the couch as he gives you backshots. Who tells you ‘I know, baby..I know.” When you’re whimpering with his thumb between your lips.,The man that goes rounds with you until you’re both spent and he’s splattering your tight little cunt full of his warm seed. Who tells the Plan B and breakfast in the morning is on him but first, he’ll go run you a warm bath and get you ready for bed.

the type of man that once you start fucking with him..you’ll never go back to the ones your age.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

erwin smith, miche zacharius, levi ackerman, captain smoker, crocodile, leonard burns, kenny ackerman, worwick, silva zoldyck, gildarts, shanks, toji + anyone else you wanna add :) 🫶🏾

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ghostlyfleur · 5 months

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whining and crying while steve fucks you into the mattress that you’re gonna make a mess and he’s like “fuck- it’s okay, daddy will clean it up, don’t worry” in between grunts. so then you stop caring that your cunt is a sopping mess and your dripping all over yourself and the bed. so then he cleans you up and the bed afterwards because he’s daddy 🥰

f u c k

steve harrington is such a daddy.

he makes you feel so fucking good and i always headcannon steve and his gf to have dacryphilia involved in their sex life, so it’s perfect that stevie’s angel is such a crybaby!

steve loves how teary eyed you get when he’s fucking you into the mattress, how whiny and pouty and subby you get for him, so dumb on his cock at times that the only thing you can moan and mumble is “daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” and it drives steve crazy …….

especially once he figures out just how much you love to be smothered, completely crushed, absolutely smushed under his weight— you’ll wrap your legs around his waist and pull him on top of you with little “no, no, no”’s if he pulls the slightest bit of his weight off of you, starting to cry and grabbing at his shoulders and arms desperately to pull him back, begging him to pin you down, to press closer *drools*

but one thing about steve is that he likes it messy — spit, drool, cum, def lots of cum play, all of it — loves it when he’s fucking you so deep and so hard you go quiet and limp and start drooling… loves leaving bite marks and hickeys all over you, marking you up everywhere he can no matter how visible it is afterwards because he knows you wear his marks with such obvious pride just like he does yours… loves to lick you all over, especially on your neck and tits just to see the full body shivers going down your spine… loves it when your cunt is messy with a mix of both yours and his cum that he keeps fucking deeper into you, pretty much fucking overflowing your pussy so much it starts to spill out of you and all over the bed, all over his thighs, down your ass, making the most lewd wet noises… *sighs*

and at first you get so. fucking. embarrassed. you’re making such a mess and you can’t stop it, your eyes go teary and wide with humiliation and “‘m sorry, stevie, sorry, it just feels s’good” and you try to move away from him in a haste, all upset at being a bad girl and making a mess when your perfect daddy is just trying to make you feel good, to spoil you, and you immediately think of getting up to clean up the bed for him so maybe he won’t be upset and you can be his good girl again but as if he was reading your mind he stops you, won’t let you pull away, stays inside you, and grips your chin to make you look at him

“you’re okay, angel, it’s okay. make a mess, show me how good it feels, daddy will clean it up later, you’re still my good girl”

so you get all flustered and pouty and you furrow your brows that cute way you do that steve loves when you’re trying to be all serious and whisper a little “promise?” because you can’t handle not being his good girl and steve is losing his mind, there’s no way he didn’t dream you up “promise, my angel, you’re daddy’s perfect girl, love it when you’re messy for me” i- 😵‍💫

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thestuffedalligator · 11 months

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“Back in ‘98, Tommy Harrington caught a fairy on his trapline and got to have a wish. So Tommy wished for a new Dodge Ram 1500, and that truck was the queen of every mud bog in the county for the next five years.

“Course, by that time folks found out that the truck was alive. We reckon it was really a fey spirit or boggle ensorcelled into a vehicular shape. We didn’t mind it much at first, but then Patty Armstrong got her truck stolen and switched with a changeling.

“So if you go driving on the backroads sometime tonight and see a ‘98 Dodge Ram driving without an owner, that’s Tommy’s truck, and that’s why we hang horseshoes on the rearview. It’s looking for a truck to take back to the faerie, ‘cause Titania saw the fun we were having and she wants in.”

#fairies #fantasy writing #drabble #short story #narrativia

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babyjakes · 4 months

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | monster fucking

pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader

warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.

word count | 1,225

an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩

what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠

maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat

what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight

you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony

maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺

he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits

"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕

he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to

but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried

steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him

"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way

he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight

your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"

he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief

"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕

"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way

he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger

as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now

whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol

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munsonsfairy · 5 months

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eddie munson is the type of guy to bring your hands to his lips and kiss them all over softly, then bring one of your hands to his jaw to nestle into it.

#fairy speaks #i don’t make the rules #he’s a softie your honor #i miss him so much #eddie munson #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things

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ddejavvu · 6 months

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Eddie throwing your younger niece/nephew/cousin(s) into the couch and in the air and all over the place while you’re gone for five minutes when babysitting them. They’re the ones squealing with delight and asking for it though!

Eddie has assured you that he is more than capable of babysitting while you make dinner. And to his credit, he's over twenty years old, and he's able-bodied. He should have no issues dealing with two toddlers that are winding down for the night already, tired after a day at the park.

Contrary to what he'd assured you, when you walk in to let them know that dinner is five minutes from completion, you watch in stiff, frozen horror as your niece flies through the air towards you.

Eddie's eyes widen in momentary terror until you shoot your arms out to catch her, and she lands in your grip in a heap of giggles.

"Eddie!" You snap, "What are you doing?"

"She was gonna land on the couch!" Eddie gestures to the cushion just behind you, that you'd accidentally covered when you'd stepped through the doorway. Admittedly, she could have easily stuck the landing, but the fact that she was airborne at all makes you nervous.

"It's fun!" She gushes, and her younger sister tugs at Eddie's belt chain. At her prompting, he picks her up, and she points vigorously to the couch, silently begging to be tossed.

"You threw the baby?" Your eyes nearly bug out of your head, and the girl in your arms only laughs harder.

"She's fine," Eddie insists, "I don't throw her far. Move, babe, I'll show you."

"No!" You gush, but he nudges you out of the way anyways. You watch with poorly-concealed fear as he gently scoops the baby into optimal throwing position, then softly launches her less than a foot onto the cushion. She lands softly, a mess of drooly laughter and shiny eyes, and clamors back over to him when he holds his arms out.

He's grinning down at her but soon remembers your distaste for their new game, and regards you with a cautious glance. You scoff at the twin pouts on their face, albeit her cheeks are chubbier than his, and you pass the girl in your arms back over when she reaches for Eddie.

"No more than three feet," You warn him, and all three of the guilty parties grin at each other excitedly, "Remember: If we have to go to the hospital tonight, no one gets mac and cheese!"

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eddiebun · 2 years

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so like…sitting on eddie’s lap

flirty fem!reader x eddie

honestly, i didn't make this super smutty or anything bc i like this dynamic but warning for 18+ content, minors awayyyy, some sexual tension, hint of dacryphilia dreaming about pussy eating yeeahh, pouty eddie eheehe

requests are open <3

he would think you are the prettiest thing he had ever seen, the way you plopped yourself on his lap like it was natural all the time like it wouldn't make him get all hot and sweaty under his clothes.

the relationship was interesting, you were both just friends but admittedly you were clingy, all touchy, feely, and eddie learned that pretty quickly into the friendship. when he sat down, you would follow like a lost little lamb, resting on one of his thighs or his whole lap and this time you'd got so into some stupid debate with dustin whilst eddie just zoned out, with his big brown eyes fixated on the way you were grabbing at his hands, arms whilst you spoke, even squeezing when you were trying to get a particular point across to his friend in front of you.

he could smell the sweet spritz of perfume you had on, his favourite, and oh god seeing your skirt bunch up around his lap had his knees feeling like jello, you had no clue what he would give to be under this flimsy cafeteria table, eating you out like nobody was even there, just the two of you and his delicious tongue lapping up everything your pussy gave him until his eyes were blown out wide, lips swollen and you were crying and fucked dumb by his tongue alone. you were such a minx.

he only came back to reality when he heard your soft voice, you had turned around asking his opinion on the matter and he was screwed, he wasn't listening to a word either of you were saying.

"oh, yeah, think so." he shrugged, cluelessly.

"ugh! you're a big help, you dummy." you scolded him playfully, poking his forehead, not missing the way his cheeks had a red tint to them.

"if he was even listening of course he'd agree with you! he has like a huge crush on you!" dustin argued and you scoffed, turning back around at him.

"hey, watch it, man!" eddie sat up straight, glaring at his younger friend, and dustin just giggled.

"whatever! you two love birds have fun." he cooed in a sing-song voice before jumping to his feet, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and walking off to his next class.

"that kid is annoying." you heard eddie grumbling behind your shoulder, a pout on his bottom lip whilst he fiddled with the lace detailing at the bottom of your skirt.

"aww, it's okay bub." you matched his pout, throwing both of your legs around his lap as you sat facing sideways, looking his way.

eddie only rolled his eyes at her further teasing, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, he was so cute.

#eeeeeeep #this dynamic though #eddie's so cute mmm #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #fairy drabbles 🤍

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laurasimonsdaughter · 11 months

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“Alright! Let’s just quickly go over your answers to our questionnaire in your application.”

As far as job interviews went, this one was rapidly moving up the list of utterly strange ones. For starters this was the fanciest office he had ever been in, and this was supposed to be an animal sanctuary. The amount of decorative pillows piled onto the chair he was currently trying to sit on would have been more appropriate for a lounge in a posh hotel.

The sanctuary manager – at least that’s how she had introduced herself – peered at the printed sheets of paper.

“So you have experience with animal handling?”

“During several internships, yes.”

“Wonderful. And horticulture?”

“I know how to keep a healthy habitat.”

“Excellent. And do you have any siblings?”

There it was, barely three questions in and already off the deep end. “Yes, three.”

The woman fixed two keen, dark eyes on him. “Three including you?”

“No, three besides me. I’m the second oldest, if that matters.”

“Ah! That’s alright then, Second of four, very good.”

By now he was looking at the manager with unrestrained wonder, eyebrows almost disappearing under his fringe.

“Well that all seems to be in order, just one more question—are you comfortable?”

He faltered, blinking. “I...well, to tell you to truth this chair could do with a few less pillows.”

To his amazement the manager’s face lit up with genuine delight. “Oh that is very good to hear. I do apologise for all that nonsense, but there’s rules against asking people about the circumstances of their birth, you know. Here, let me.”

He got to his feet, still rather stunned, and watched how the manager removed three pillows and, from underneath them all, a small green pea from his chair.

“There we are! Now, we’d be very glad to have you, you certainly meet all our qualifications, and I assure you we offer excellent terms and benefits. You clearly have plenty of experience with amphibians and birds, but you will need some on the job training, because apart from the usual frogs, swans and ravens, we also have clients in some of the rarer categories.”

“Clients? I thought this was an animal sanctuary,” he stammered.

“It most certainly is! Except our residents have not always been animals.” The manager smiled meaningfully. “You’d be surprised just how many people, especially royals, decide they would rather stay enchanted.” She looked a little embarrassed for a moment. “Which is of course exactly why I need to take certain precautions with my employees, you understand.”

He was pretty sure he did not at all understand, but he wasn’t about to admit that now. “Right.”

She peered at him again. “I do still need you to promise me not to fall in love with any of them.”

“Why on earth—”

“It’s happened before,” she said gravely. “We also have a couple of private parks, with a more human enclosure, I mean house, because we do get the occasional beastification.” She shook her head. “The last person we hired, well, our client was kind enough not to file an official complaint, on account of the whole finding his true love thing, but it was really very embarrassing.” He sat very still for a moment. “So, how many of those are there?”

“Beasts? Only two at the moment, since that unfortunate incident.”

“And your other...residents?”

“Hmm lets see, seven swans and seven ravens, three frogs, a stag, a hind, a fox and a bear. Well, and the cat, but she’s an exception, she lives in our head quarters and mostly looks after herself.” She gave him a rather worried look. “I haven’t scared you off, have I?”

He gave her a weak smile. “You promised me five weeks paid time off, so no you haven’t. But I am going to need some more information.”

“Wonderful,” she sighed. “In that case, let’s start with giving you a tour.”

#urban fantasy #urban fantasy professionals #laura drabbles #fairy tales #this one is a little rough still but it needed to get out there

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coqvttes · 5 months

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Hiiii! Congratulations!!! For the picnic event could I request Fairy Cakes for Keegan Russ and either reading together or people watching, which ever one you like!!! Thank you!!!! 🩵🥰🫶🏻

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 hey, thank you for ur rq! yess, ofc u can, darlin! time for some fluffy keegannnn i hope u like it! :) xx

sfw : gn!reader, fluff.

"keegan! you're not paying attention!" his gaze snaps back down on you upon hearing your complaint, and a cheeky smile adorns his features.

you look up at him from your place as you lay on his lap, legs lying flat on the grass as the sun peeks through the leaves of the big oak tree that keegan leans against.

"sorry, babe, i'm listening," he says, tucking the strand of hair that was bothering you behind your ear. you roll your eyes and continue reading the passage from the novel in your hands.

after a few minutes, you look up at keegan again; his attention is focused entirely on something else.

"keegan! you're doing it again, why won't you pay attention to me?" you swat his shoulder playfully, and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead as if to apologize.

"what were you looking at?"

he points to a young couple about ten meters away from you, sitting on a picnic blanket, laughing and enjoying the summer breeze just as you two are.

"first date? or you think they're a couple?"

"hmm... i think it's their first date, he wouldn't be dressed so nicely if they're already a thing." he chuckles, and his grip on your hand tightens when he sees the smile on your face as you observe the people around you.

"what about...them?"

he looks over to where you point, and he grins fondly upon seeing an old couple sharing some wine and a sandwich as they sit on an old wooden bench by the pond.

"that's us in 40 years," a rosy blush spreads across your cheeks as you giggle at his words. your hands, letting go of the book to cup his cheek above you.

"i love that!"

keegan smiles as he gazes down at you, and he realizes that he lives for moments like this.

moments when he can let his guard down. moments when he can laugh and smile with you. moments when he can feel nothing but love. love for you.

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lollytea · 1 year

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Imagine if Willow sprinkles Hunter with pixie dust, and she's about to explain he needs to think happy thoughts to fly, only to see he's already floating off the ground.

"Whoa, what happy thought were you thinking?"

"Well, nothing really, I was just listening to you."

Her just being there is his happy thought.

[Now on AO3]

"It doesn't work on me," He claims, like the Know-It-All he is.

Willow is already coaxing a daisy into existence as he says it. It pokes through the forest floor, unusually exuberant for dusk hours, dimly illuminated by a fairy's magic touch.

"Are you calling my dust faulty?" She scoffs, plucking the flower out of the ground and twirling it teasingly beneath her chin. "How presumptuous."

"No," Answers the pirate. If you could even call him that right now. He's shed his immaculate gold coat and that large and ridiculous (but oh, so funny) hat of his.

He's taken every measure to be as inconspicuous as possible. Nobody aboard that ship can know about his little late night rendezvous with a fairy. Especially not if he doesn't intend to bring her back in a jar.

He has long since retired that ambition.

"It's no different than any other fairy's dust," He says, slow and cautious. "The crew has....obtained it a few times in the past...."

Willow doesn't say anything but her presence still makes him squirm. She already knows what becomes of fairies that pirates get their hands on.

"And it doesn't work on me...." He concludes.

"You sound disappointed."

"I'm not."

He's a liar, among other things.

Willow opts to not mention how transparent he is in his longing to get tangled up in the stars, to test the feel of foamy cloudstuff in his hands, to soar the way the Lost Boys do.

He's so enraptured with winged creatures, she notices.

This boy wants to fly. This boy wants to become Lost in a way that matters on this island. And the only thing stopping him is his own stupid heart.

He's my uncle, he had whispered the last time she begged.

"I refuse to believe you're immune to dust," Declares Willow. "You are no different from any Lost Boy."

She means that in more ways than one. He even looks like one tonight. Young and sloppily dressed, his bare hairless face spotlighted by the fat silvery moon hanging overhead.

It bothers him that it's so difficult to grow a beard. It makes her heart sink a little every time he laments how impatient he is to grow up.

"I'm nothing like a Lost Boy," He retorts for the billionth time.

If she felt a little more argumentative, she'd ask him to state their exact coordinates on the map. And he'd flounder for an answer, because he's never been in this part of the island before. Willow led him into the depths of the forest by the hand in the dead of night.

He's a boy.

He's lost.

It would make him all mad and huffy if she pulled that on him. Which would be funny. But she doesn't want to make him mad and huffy right now.

Willow shimmies closer, rustling the leaves underneath her. "I think you just never learned the trick of dust. It's not like fairies to give the secret away to just anyone."

He's not looking in her direction. Which is annoying. She could get drunk on how it feels to have his eyes poring over the sight of her.

It was once an impish sort of delight. A delicious satisfaction that he found her such an irksome creature yet he was unwillingly attracted to her shape, to her smile, to her eyes.

It's different now. Less unwilling on his part. And at some point or another, she found herself blooming pink roses beneath the skin of her cheeks when he looks at her like that.

She likes being looked at. But she now understands that she likes being looked at by him. She wishes to hear the thoughts in his head as his eyes hang off her bare shoulders.

"So..." Willow croons, her fingers finding the sharp bend of his jaw. She brushes the skin, gingerly avoiding the sensitive edges of his scars.

"How about...." her palm connects to his cheek and she still marvels over how perfectly fitted her hand is for cupping his face. She guides his gaze towards hers. The eyes that she finds pretty to settle on the face that those eyes find pretty.

"You trust me on this...." Her soft spoken utterance is emphasized with an affectionate rub of her index finger on the sweet spot behind his ear.

He likes being touched there. She found out back when he was trying very hard to not like her.

Once his eyes are set on hers, confused but hopelessly soft, Willow lifts the daisy to her lips and blows.

A string of glowing pollen rises from the buttery pistil and drifts in his direction. It's as though it already knows tonight's assignment is proving a Know-It-All wrong. It's the only way to needle a big pretty smile outta him.

Willow is gonna get that smile, whether he likes it or not. She's a rascal like that.

Dust clings to his cheeks, spilling down his neck and sinking under skin.

"I promise you're not immune to dust," Says Willow, because she won't allow him to be. If he wants to fly, he'll fly.

He's staring at her with wild eyes now, every blink an agonizing interruption of his beholding.

She hasn't realized until now just how close their faces are. Nose to nose.

Feeling the tickly heat of his breath makes her smile.

"All you have to do is..."

He gasps.

Willow gasps.

They are no longer nose to nose because he is jerkily rising off the ground.

Amusingly, once he's a few inches into the air, he awkwardly tips forward and his feet continue to ascend. He's floating upside-down now, startled and confused yelps erupting from his throat. Willow stands up, trying to swallow her giggles as he desperately stretches his arms out to claw at the ground for some sort of anchor.

He's wobbling further and further away from her now and with a flutter of wings, she rises to meet him by the heads of the trees.

"Hiiiiiii~" She singsongs in an imitation of something he said to her so very long ago when things were so very different.

His flipped body has caused his shirt to hitch. It hangs in a baggy pool at his armpits.

Willow cannot help herself. She pokes his bare belly with a silly sounding "boop!" making him squeak ("Willow!") and scrabble to yank the fabric back over his figure. His legs are kicking erratically, attempting to put himself to right.

She doesn't indulge in the antics for much longer, instead opting to take pity on him. Lost Boys are like this sometimes too. But only in those first few minutes before they realize that they're perfectly safe, just a little inexperienced.

"Don't you worry," Says Willow, taking him by the waist and flipping him rightside-up. "You just haven't got your sky legs yet,"

She lets go of him once his position has been righted but he is not having it. Willow lets out an embarrassing noise herself as a pair of arms awkwardly throw themselves around her. His breathing rattles in her ear, his heartbeat a thick pound against hers.

Willow blurts out the first thing she can think to say. "First time?"

"Obviously!" He snaps, though there's a tremor to his tone.

She laughs to hide her brain's stubborn fixation on how defined the arms around her are.

"Hey now, I gotcha," She says comfortingly. With a bit of effort, she manages to rearrange their entangled bodies so it's not so...so much.

They now float at the respectful distance of any two teenagers having their first dance, complete with his arms loosely looped around her neck and Willow's hands rested against his hips.

Hm. Well. It's no longer so much but...

Now it's not enough.

To right that wrong this instant, Willow hums mischievously. "After all...."

Those respectful hands slide up his sides,

"I finally got my diabolical little fairy hands on a pirate."

They linger on his ribs.

His breath gets caught.

"I'm not gonna let him go."

They travel back down to his hips.

He's frozen in the way he tends to freeze, but it doesn't deter the heat. It blotches his face, his ears, even seeping down his neck.

He used to slap her touch away when she got playfully handsy with him. That stopped a lot time ago.

Instead, his grip around her tightens, though his gaze falls bashfully.

Willow grins.

He liiiiiiiiiikes it.

"How does flying work?" Asks the pirate.

"Well, it basically means not being on the ground," Answers Willow intelligently.

"No. I mean....why am I flying right now?"

Oh.

Right.

She had forgotten that he went blasting off before she could even explain the trick of it.

He looks troubled, a little bit on the scrunched up side. She expects that the reality of his situation will sink in sooner or later but...he needs answers first.

He's wanted this. He's wanted to fly. But it isn't like him to be satisfied without knowing the How and Why.

"Well," Says Willow. "What were you thinking? Before you began to fly?"

His eyebrows shoot up. "I-I wasn't thinking anything specific."

He's out of his depth and it's making him panic.

"Why? What was I supposed to be thinking?"

She smiles. "Your happiest thought."

"Oh...."

"Why?" She asks, leaning into his space. "What were you thinking?"

His brain is bizarrely shaped and she's obsessed with the idea of rummaging around in it.

She likes it when he allows the makings of the contraption to sputter out through his lips.

What are your happy thoughts, pirate?

But he never gives her an answer.

He doesn't need to.

What that boy does instead is give her a look. It's a strangely quiet look for such a loud face.

She can't gather together the words to describe that look because it feels too much like a secret. What she will say is that it's hers. It's all hers.

Her secret pirate.

His secret fairy.

"Oh..." She doesn't like how her voice shakes but what can she do?

He makes her feel so very fragile sometimes.

It's happening.

Aw thorns, it's happening.

Willow's wings speed up without her say-so and the two bodies shoot higher into the sky, the pirate howling in surprise.

She laughs. What else can she do but laugh?

But now that she's laughing, it's very difficult to stop. It's getting to the point of hysteria.

She's his happy thought.

And you know what? He might be hers too.

The sudden lift has made him lose his grip on her and he's now paddling through the sky, reaching out his hand to hers.

Willow takes it.

And while she's at it, she takes his other hand and gives him a giddy twirl.

He's accustomed enough to the weightlessness by now that he doesn't react with horror. But rather, it surprises a giggle out of him.

Terribly encouraged by the bubbling sound, she spins him again and he laughs harder.

He makes those dumb snorty noises.

She's going to spin him unconscious if he keeps doing this to her.

It's in his eyes now, she can see it. Something is beginning to kindle, the realization that this is it.

He can fly.

His smile is gold.

She never would have taken the air above the forest for a dance floor but there's nothing conventional about anything she does with this boy.

Their bodies rotate across the stars, like the little dancers in that music box she found once.

They try to imitate the grown-ups in those books he likes to show her. It's his idea.

Two hands, one small and round with short fingers and a cushiony palm, and one long and narrow, fingers all lean and knobbly. They find each other and the mismatched fingers intertwine.

Willow's other hand is on his shoulder while his is on her waist. It's loose, no longer fearing his life up here.

He can't dance while standing on the ground, so he certainly has no footing in the sky. But that's alright, floating and touching is enough.

He tells her stories.

She listens.

She flirts and she jokes.

He blushes.

Sometimes he responds with something just as immaculately phrased.

She blushes.

Her cheek is resting against his chest when she utters the words. "Guess what..."

"What?"

"There was a fairy ball tonight."

She wasn't supposed to tell him that.

The subsequent silence leaves her to wonder why she told him that.

"So why are you here?" He asks, which is even worse.

Willow doesn't give him an answer.

She doesn't need to.

It's her lips buttoned in an pointed 'You know why' sort of way that spells it all out. As wrung tight with nerves as she is, her lips quirk up with amusement as that heart of his begins to riot against his ribcage.

"Oh..." He says.

"Oh..." Willow responds.

The night dances on. The stars observe with indifference.

Neverland itself doesn't care if a fairy waltzes with a pirate.

Its only those with a pulse that take issue.

He doesn't say the words. Not exactly.

Instead, he says "Willow. I think...I think there might be a problem...."

The warmth of his body is soaking into her. It's making her sleepy.

"And what's that?" Willow asks, looking up.

After a moment of contemplation, she adds "Hunter,"

The pirate's name is Hunter.

She likes that his name is something that's allowed on her tongue.

She feels his shoulder stiffen beneath her hand at the mention of that name. It seems to tangle up the words he already had on the tip of his tongue.

She squeezes the spot she's holding, hoping to relieve a little of the tension.

"I..." The hand holding hers is damp. She can feel it tremble. "I don't think I can get down,"

"Is that so?" She teases with a tilt of her head.

Like she's forgotten. He's her happy though. It's so cute she almost wants to let loose an undignified squeal.

But the lines of Hunter's face only tighten. Every worry etched into his features is naked underneath the moon's glow.

"I don't think I can ever get down again," He states, simple and soft.

His eyes are on her and they burn like always. She doesn't know what kind of fire Hunter was born in but his eyes never stop burning.

Willow's mischievous smile dips as his words pierce her through with the viciousness of a dagger, yet her stomach doesn't fill with blood, but warm liquid gold.

You don't fall in love in Neverland.

You don't fall at all.

You fly.

#drabble written in my brainrotted haze #its kinda messy and unpolished #i wrote it all in one go #on my phone too #also it is very late and not a lot of people are gonna see this #yippee tho #vibrates about fairies #huntlow #neverland au

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mycrazyramblings · 2 years

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Fairy-Drabbles 51: The Ugly Duckling IV

by @ulmo80

Good evening. In this edition of True Crimes, we bring you the story of the serial killer The Ugly Duckling. With the help of people who knew him, as well as behavioral specialists and Crown Officers who participated in his search and capture, we will walk the path that led to this notorious criminal from the hospice where he was abandoned by his parents, his problematic adolescence, the time serving in His Majesty's army, where he became part of the elite unit, The Swans, and the beginning of his terrible murders

“Nobody is going to love you now. You are ugly, like me,” were the last words he said to the only surviving victim, after having disfigured his face.

Note: Sorry, I couldn’t help it xD…

You can read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600925

#my crazy ramblings #fairy-drabbles #the ugly duckling #serial killer #true crime #drabble #fairy tale #fairy tale retelling #retelling #just out of my head

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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being submissive is cool and all but a man that likes when you talk your shit back? yeah, my type 🥴

cw: rough sex, slapping, spit play, name calling, very vocal reader

one that’s already dogging your shit out..I’m talking both hands around your throat, fingers in the mouth…pulling you up by the top of your head and telling you to take that dick as it makes home at the inner corner of your cervix. Only letting him do so becatse he promises to get it redone. But honestly? He knows you like it just as much he does. Especially considering the fact that you’ve never been shy about letting him know what turns you on..

“Yeah, fuck me! Right there…don’t you dare fucking stop.”

sucking on those teeth in a sultry tone as you glare right into his eyes..groping your own tits and and telling him everything you wanted. And best believe, he’s trying to keep up. God, he’s trying because he doesn’t want to disappoint his freaky little damsel. The one that swallows his cock with ease, whether it’s in that slutty throat or sloppy warmth. The one he can’t last more than three minutes without nutting inside of because that shit has a vice grip like he’s never seen. Honestly, you have way too much power over him but satisfying you is his top and only priority. Even if you do boss him around like a little bitch!

“Goddamn…you feel so fucking good..this my pussy, baby? Tell me?”

“Is it? You better fuck the shit outta me then..like you mean it. Make me nut on that dick.”

you get so aggressive and into it that he can’t help but twitch inside, having to adjust his pace so that he doesn’t blow his load entirely too early for your liking. Only, you’d never let him live it down. Laughing like a fucking demon every time he lost his rhythm and starting panting because you’ve starting purposely tightening around him; making those spasms enclose him like you never wanted to let go. It’s only when he starts pounding your shit into oblivion, spitting into your mouth and slapping your cheek does he elicit a few submissive moans but it’s right back to shit talking shortly thereafter..

“That’s all you got? I said fuck this pussy, beat this shit up and quit playing with me! I want you to come all in this bitch..or you ain’t man enough? What? I gotta go get another nigga to do it?”

at this point, he can’t tell if it’s the immense pleasure or the fact that you’ve pissed him the fuck off but he’s trying to plow you into the mattress and he’s not letting up until he watches your eyes trail ti the back of your skull. Grunting through gritted teeth, he just smirks and continues clutching your neck as that cream coated dick keeps stroking in and out..and all the while, you know that you’re in for the best night of your life.

“You little bitch..just wait. I’m about to have you crawling out of here. Just hold those legs open and don’t move until I fucking say so..”

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

sukuna, toji, taiju, eren, tengen, worrick, kenny ackerman, mikey, draken, touya/dabi, zoro, law, eustass kidd, doflamingo, crocodile, smoker, gajeel, taiga, laxus, garou, zeke, draken, kisaki, connie, south, geto + anyone else you’d like to add

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ghostlyfleur · 17 days

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𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

eddie munson x shy!oc

contents: anxiety, curse words, friends to lovers. lovesick!eddie, inexperienced!reader, self-consciousness, first kiss, sharing clothes. eddie’s jacket is oversized on reader. can be read as x reader, but a bit oc too? carnival date.

word count: ~1.5k

eddie munson is in love.

she is entirely inexperienced in anything romantic or sexual; no first kiss, never even got close to it. extremely shy and anxious, has a seemingly innocent aura, is a bit out of sorts, ditzy, with a sort of luna lovegood vibe. doesn’t argue with people, always tears up if confronted about anything, doesn’t have beef with anyone and is a lot more rational than emotional even though she tears up so easily. also doesn’t hold grudges or care what people think of her…

the thing is, she has been introverted her whole life, a very anxious person, and so doesn’t understand that eddie munson likes her because she needs to be told how people feel about her very explicitly otherwise her mind will convince her they hate her. anxiety is like that. and she’s the kind of person that has a hard time realizing that people can perceive their existence and have feelings for them, no matter what type of feelings, so even though eddie is not at all shy about flirting with her and giving her all of the attention in the world in his over-the-top, overdramatic way, he also knows that if anything other than the friendship he’s thankfully managed to build with her is going to happen, romantic-wise, that she has to be the one to initiate it— but she’s oblivious!

on the other hand though, she doesn’t even bother hiding her infatuation with eddie — it’s a lot more than infatuation by now. she’s always looking at him with stars in her eyes and laughs at his jokes and smiles that big, square, goofy smile whenever they lock eyes and constantly praises him because he deserves to feel as special as he is, right? and she goes into detailed talks about lord of the rings with him, likes many of the same bands he does or simply lets him play his favorites for her, and she truly loves to watch hellfire play dungeons & dragons.

her eds even made her a special edition pink hellfire shirt. ‘cause he’s a simp.

one day, as she’s out with chrissy and heather outside a diner, talking and laughing and catching up, eddie is close by somewhere with friends. his van is parked nearby.

it starts getting chilly, and eddie’s girl starts shivering, so she quickly excused herself away from the girls, “gimme a second!” and reaches through the open window of eddie’s van, making a mental note to grill him about it later — “‘cause it isn’t safe, eds!” — to grab his leather jacket thinking of how he has told her over and over that she can borrow it, that “what’s mine is yours, sweets. i don’t mind sharing if it’s with you”, so she figures it’s okay, right? and goes back to the girls who are fucking smirking like they see something she doesn’t.

it’s about fifteen minutes later, and eddie is walking towards the trio, simply because he misses his girl and wants a hug, when he sees it.

she’s wearing his jacket. his jacket.

in typical eddie fashion, he makes a scene— gasping dramatically, he clutches his chest over his heart and falls to his knees, because fuck what anyone around thinks. his precious girl is wearing his fucking jacket! and she looks like a fucking angel.

“eds, what are you doin’?”

“do you know how heavenly you look in my jacket? i just had to get on my knees to worship you.”

the boy shuffles closer to his sweet girl on his knees still while he talks and she’s flustered, okay? she’s shy and her face is on fire and she’s covering her cheeks and giggling. and because it’s eddie, her eddie, she’s not running away to have a panic attack. ‘cause it’s eddie and he’s being sweet, so she can’t focus on anyone else long enough to feel crippling anxiety or embarrassment. doesn’t even care that chrissy is cooing and heather is smirking.

“that jacket is yours now, you own it. you pretty much own me by now.” eddie says, on his knees, in front of her

“it’s okay that i took it right?” she makes sure even after his display of joy, ‘cause anxiety isn’t rational “you said i—”

her eddie knows her, though. he stands up, gets real fucking close to her, so close they’re almost touching, with this look of absolute adoration and “i’d give ya everything i have if i could, pretty.”

fast forward a few days later. chrissy kept yapping on and on to the oblivious girl about how “in love” eddie is, but it’s as though her brain won’t let her even entertain the idea.

that’s until she’s having a semi-regular quote unquote friend-date with eddie, something they’ve done quite a few times before, and this time they go to the fair. they’re doing everything couples might do, eddie is very aware of this, and he’s over the moon to just be enjoying quality time with his pretty girl until she spots a photobooth, “oh, eds! we have to!” and eddie’s desperately counting coins to pay. the pictures go a little something like this:

after coming up blank with pose ideas, they just look at each other and laugh, but at the sound of his free and bright laugh, she just stares at her boy like he’s a dream come true— first pic is taken, looking at eddie like he hung the moon while he’s mid-laugh.

eddie notices her staring and goes from loud laughs to breathless ones, a smile on his lips, and whispers a soft “what?”— second picture is taken as the girl quickly presses her lips to his, her very first kiss, and it’s caught on camera.

the third picture depicts eddie’s sweet girl nervously rambling “i was going to ask for permission first, i promise!” while eddie has a glassy, dreamy look on his face, slack jawed, looking at her lips.

and at the fourth snap? eddie presses forward to shut her up with another impossibly soft and tender kiss, both of their eyes are closed and his hand is holding her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.

after they part from the second kiss, eddie acknowledges that it was her first kiss, a shy “was that okay?” to which his sweetheart just smiles really big and nods excitedly over and over with a breathless giggle. that was the perfect first and second kiss and she couldn’t ask for more.

they hold hands the rest of the night.

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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No Such Thing As Stupid Question

This one is for you, Anna! @unclewaynemunson! Congratulations on your academic progress, I'm so proud of you!

Also on Ao3 for your convenience :)

As someone who showed as little interest in romance as possible, Wayne Munson didn't really expect to be come a parental figure. Maybe he'd get a dog when he retired, some older mutt from a shelter, and they'd sit in front of the trailer in quiet company, perhaps a bark here and there as Wayne sipped his beer. Wayne could imagine that. But a kid, never.

But of course, life had a peculiar sense of humor and his younger brother hit a new low - sadly admirable, given that he was already at the very bottom, but someone brought a shovel with him. Grand theft auto, petty crimes all over, domestic disputes (to put it mildly)...Wayne breathed a sigh of relief when he found out he got locked up before he escalated even further. He didn't want to believe Danny had it in him to seriously hurt someone, but given the right or wrong circumstances, he couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be a casualty like a random witness, someone trying to protect their property...yeah, Danny was definitely better off where he ended up.

As for his son Eddie...Wayne couldn't guarantee the same, even though he vowed to try his damn hardest.

Eddie was a scrawny kid with an ugly buzz cut and dark eyes so large he seemed afraid of anything and everything. When Wayne met with the social worker and they talked over coffee, Wayne couldn't help but notice how Eddie grasped his milkshake, as if someone would take it from him the very next second. His twitchy fingers wrapped around the glass in a vice-like grip and even though Wayne was convinced he was listening to every word said, he kept stubbornly staring into the drink, refusing to meet anyone's eye. And even though the kid was barely in middle school, Wayne found the rigid focus all too familiar, painfully so. It was the first time he found himself truly and purely hating Danny, feeling a burning coal in his chest at what his so-called upbringing did to this boy.

In the end, Eddie was sent to live with him, only a bag with clothes too big, a few trinkets and a single book, worn from constant reading. The Hobbit.

The first day, the now joint Munson household was quiet. Eddie was chewing on an improvised pasta Wayne had made - on his own, thank you for asking, with all three ingredients - and looking anywhere but at his uncle. And Wayne was a quiet man himself so sure, they could stay in silence until Eddie graduated and moved somewhere else, but there was a part of Wayne that didn't want this for Eddie. He wanted at least one Munson to turn out alright.

"Hope it's edible. I...don't cook much," he tried, swallowing a lump of poorly mixed spices.

Eddie's eyes were fixed to his plate. He nodded, the movement almost indiscernible, and then returned to his pasta.

So Wayne tried again. "I saw that book you have," he mentioned and boy, was that a wrong move. Eddie almost curled into himself, his eyes darting to Wayne for the first time - but not with curiosity. With defiance and fear.

He didn't say anything, only stared at Wayne. As if he was daring him to say something, do something.

So Wayne did. "It looked interesting. The Hobbit? I've never heard of it. Is it any good?"

The slight relaxation in Eddie's shoulders seemed promising. "It's my favorite," he said, his eyes returning to the pasta, stabbing a few offending pieces with his fork. "It has an adventure in it. An unexpected one."

Wayne huffed a quiet laugh under his breath. "Ah. So somethin' like this?"

Eddie looked at him again with those large dark eyes. "...yeah."

And then it was quiet again, but this was less forced, less tense. Wayne thought that maybe this was how Eddie would be normally, a withdrawn soul just like himself, but just as he chewed on the last mouthful of less than ideally cooked pasta, Eddie broke the silence.

"Why'd you take me in?" Eddie blurted out and seemed to regret it immediately, biting in to his own lip. "It's...it's not like you knew me before and you could have refused, I...I would understand that. I think. But you agreed to let me stay and I'm grateful and all, but...I just don't get it. Why?" Pausing for a moment, he added "sorry if that's a stupid question. I just want to understand."

It might have taken Wayne a second longer than ideal to answer, but he didn't want to spit ketchup on the poor boy who already seemed flustered enough. He held his finger up and quickly washed down the food with a gulp of soda. "First rule of this house, son," he said and smiled at Eddie, actually smiled, although his facial muscles protested. "Ain't no such thing as stupid questions. Anything you want to ask, just ask. And if I know the answer, I will give it. Understood?"

Eddie was maintaining eye contact now and he nodded eagerly. Almost too eagerly. It made Wayne reconsider in that very second, because this wasn't a withdrawn soul like he'd suspected - this was a boy who wanted to open up to someone so, so badly. "Yes," he muttered and Wayne couldn't help himself, he reached out, slowly, and ruffled whatever hair remained on Eddie's head. And Eddie didn't move away, just watched his hand like a hawk and, when he ensured he wasn't in any danger, even leaned into it, giving Wayne a small smile.

Returning to his side of the table, Wayne leaned in. "Why'd I take you in? I could give you a bunch of reasons, none would fully cover it. Obligation, sure. You're family, that's another thing. But most of all, I just..." He trailed off, finding the correct words, the truthful words. Throughout all of it, Eddie was watching him, waiting. "I guess I just want to give you something better, Eddie. Danny and I, we didn't have the best family, not sure how much he told you. And there ain't much we can do to fix ourselves, but I look at you and I think...maybe I can make a difference right here. Because you seem like a bright kid to me and I just...I just want to do right by you. Even if I'm the only one."

Eddie swallowed thickly, fidgeting. "And...and if I turn out like him?" he mumbled, struggling to keep the eye contact. "What if you...you do that, but I still fail?"

Damn, Wayne Munson did not cry, but the fear, the insecurity in Eddie's voice tugged at something in his chest. He reached over again and grasped Eddie's bony shoulder. "Then you'll still have home here for as long as you want. All I want from you is to give it your best shot. That work for you?"

The boy smiled at him and nodded, wiping at his eyes. "Yeah."

"Good." They were grinning at each other over dirty plates, the smell of ketchup and cheap soda between them. "And I meant what I said. Anythin' you want to ask, go for it. No question is a stupid question."

Eddie smirked at him and Wayne might have detected a glint of mischief in his eyes. He thought he'd bend over backwards to keep it there, to give this frightened kid a bit of childhood back. "Anything, huh?" he asked.

"Yup. But count on me askin' a lot of stuff too. Like," he paused, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

It was ridiculous. But Wayne remembered what the doctors told him when he returned from Vietnam - sometimes to get moving, you need something unexpected, something to confuse the anxiety right out of your brain. So he dug deep and hard into his imaginative side and pointed at Eddie. "What is the single superior animal noise? No long thinking, go."

Eddie blinked at him, once, twice, and then he burst out laughing. He kicked his knee into the table and the dishes rattled around, but he couldn't stop himself. He was wheezing, grasping the side of the table and trying to breathe. And if that didn't make Wayne's heart swell. "You...you looked so serious!" gasped Eddie between snorts and giggles.

"It's a serious question. Now, Eddie, what's your answer?" Wayne tried to keep his face under control, but Eddie's grin was contagious.

The boy cleared his throat and leaned forwards, brow furrowing in concentration. "So many fine choices," he said in a contemplative voice that made Wayne nearly choke on his soda because it sounded like a poor imitation of a British TV celebrity. "I have to go with ribbit. Unique and well-balanced." Glancing at Wayne, he shot back. "The soup to beat all the soups!"

Wayne smirked and crossed his arms. "That's an easy one. Bean soup. And before you ask - not from a can."

"Knew it."

It gradually becomes their thing.

Whenever Eddie is lost in thought, when he comes back from school with a new bruise, Wayne shoots a ridiculous question at him, what is the best race in the Middle Earth for a basketball tournament, what is the ideal number of dried peas to have in your kitchen, and Eddie's smile is back, as radiant as ever.

When Wayne returns from the plant, grumbling about the stupid idiots from the previous shift making his job harder, he finds Eddie bouncing on his feet, waiting for him to come home to ask what is the ideal sole color for running shoes. "Not the shoe color, the sole, Wayne, what is the sole color that makes you just want to run? No thinking, go!"

Even years after Eddie's hair has grown into the thick wavy locks that Wayne isn't envious of, nope, not at all, they still randomly yell questions at each other across the trailer. Eddie hollers "WHAT'S THE FUNNIEST FRUIT IN THE WHOLE WORLD WAYNE?!" and Wayne shouts back "IT'S PEACH BECAUSE IT'S STUPIDLY HAIRY JUST LIKE A CERTAIN NEPHEW OF MINE AND STOP YELLING, BOY!". Wayne asks between quiet puffs of smoke outside "if you had to wear a hat for the rest of your life, what hat would that be?" and Eddie blows out a circle and snickers "a top hat." There's a joke there and Wayne smiles to himself, wondering if he should acknowledge it.

And eventually, when his boy is returned to him after the hell that was March of 1986, when Eddie slowly heals and the Harrington boy doesn't leave his side, Wayne has the perfect question but he bides his time, watching the two fools dance around each other like the foolish fools they are (has he mentioned they are fools? Because they absolutely are). He's hoping he won't need to ask the question, maybe it will be enough to just wait, but nope, he's had enough. Life is too short for people like him and Eddie. So he grabs a couple of beers, drags Eddie to the porch of their government-funded house and after a couple of cans, starts their favorite pasttime.

"What's the best pink thing to ever exist?"

"Plastic flamingos," responds Eddie and sips his beer. "The one piece of clothing humanity should have never invented?"

"Ties, who's supposed to learn to tie that thing...the best cat name?"

"Household or wild?"

"Wild."

"Fluffles. Imagine being eaten by that in the woods. You'd never live it down, even after dying. The most humiliating job ever?"

"TV weather guy. Must suck to be wrong all the time." He doesn't even pause, just continues in the disinterested, flat tone they always use for their late night rounds of no-stupid-question. "The best place to take Steve for a date?"

"Somewhere calm, I think a picnic, he doesn't do well with a lot of loud noises or people," replies Eddie immediately. He sips his beer and freezes, mid-gulp, when his mind finally catches up with his mouth.

Wayne just pats his shoulder reassuringly. "Sounds like a great plan to me." When Eddie doesn't answer or move, he adds "swallow, boy."

Eddie pours the rest of his beer into his mouth and chuckles at Wayne, breathless. "That sounds more like a second date idea. Uh, shit. Sorry. I mean..."

"I'll pretend I stopped listening at the picnic," says Wayne, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his sternness. "Just stay safe, Eddie. But if I have to keep watchin' you and that pretty boy dance around each other for a week longer, I swear I'll have you two sit down and talk it out, kindergarten style. So you'd better ask him out before I give him the talk."

With the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie nodding, grasping the can for support. "Will do. Just...are you..." He bites his lip, turns to Wayne. "Does this change anything?"

"I sure hope it does!" Wayne flicks the ash off his cigarette. "For one, I'd expect your room to be much cleaner when you get a boyfriend."

They're both chuckling now, clinking their empty beer cans together. "Smart ass," says Eddie but it has no bite, no venom. "Thank you, dad," he says quietly, and Wayne can't help himself, he throws his arm over Eddie's shoulders and pulls him into a very uncomfortable sideways hug. It's the best hug in his life.

When Eddie throws open the door the next Friday and hollers "WHAT IS THE BEST CHAPSTICK FLAVOR FOR KISSING?" and Wayne answers, he gets corrected for the first time. "Wrong," says Eddie and wipes at his mouth, still grinning wildly. "It's cherry."

And Wayne gets proven right once more when, not even a year later, after rebuilding of Hawkins, practically adopting Steve into their small weird family, Eddie proves to him that he's not just scarily observant, but he learns the worst tricks in the book.

Because sure, Wayne might have buried his own needs and desires so deep they're practically at the Earth's core, but then there was a sympathetic man close to his age, maybe a bit younger, who approached Wayne and told him he's so happy for him that Eddie is back, that he taught Eddie in middle school and he never believed a single word about his involvement because that boy is incapable of harming anyone, that's what he said. And he invited Wayne for a beer because some people were still treating the name Munson as the plague itself and Wayne might be finding himself looking at Eddie and Steve, wishing that he was younger, he had more courage...

So he's still mostly lost in those thoughts when Eddie starts pestering him during one of Steve's shifts, meaning they're home alone and bored. It's late July, they're both sitting on the porch, sipping beer again, and Wayne has already answered questions about the mug to end all mugs, whether soccer would be more fun to watch with human-sized insects and who is the single person from all Hawkins to be sent to Mars to never return. And then Eddie asks "what's the best movie to take Scott Clarke for the first date?" and Wayne's brain short circuits.

When he comes to, Eddie is smirking at him sympathetically, offering him a new can of beer because Wayne dropped the old one. "Come on, did you think I wouldn't notice?" he asks and nudges his shoulder. "I can sense the "desperately in love" Munson eyes from a mile away. I've got them patented, you know. So. Your answer?"

Wayne coughs and stammers out that it would have to be something smart because Scott is smart. And that he isn't smart enough to figure out what he'd like, so it's not really a good question...

But Eddie just shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, producing two tickets to the Hawkins movie theatre. "Wrong, Wayne. Or not completely. Mr. Clarke - Scott, shit, that's difficult to get used to, he loves smart things, but he's also a massive nerd, as our lady Applejack loves to call him and everyone within a certain interest group. And I happen to know there's something called RoboCop playing tomorrow. I also happen to have two tickets right here, to know that Scott is free and that he'll be waiting for you 15 minutes before the movie starts."

Wayne gapes at him, mouth hanging open and speechless for the first time in his life. His eyes are traveling between the tickets and Eddie's smile while he's desperately trying to stomp out the flames of hope in his heart. "But...but what if he doesn't see me like that?" he asks and he hates how small and insecure he sounds, but Eddie needs to understand that things are different for people like him, for his age, his...whole person.

His nephew - no, son - throws his head back and laughs into the setting sun. "Look at that," he grins and shoves the two tickets into Wayne's hand. "That has to be the first stupid question I've ever heard from you. Let's see..." he taps on his chin, pretending to think. "Ask me again tomorrow after the movie, okay? If you still need to ask."

The next evening, Eddie leans next to the door when Wayne returns from the movie. "So..." he drawls, raising his eyebrows. "Do you still need me to answer?"

And Wayne huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Nah, no more stupid questions in this household."

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