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eagerbby · 1 year

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Linger | Part 1

pairing| Eddie Munson x older!female reader

synopsis| A unknowing game of cat and mouse with your younger neighbor, who can't seem to hold on to his house key, leads to feelings you don't want to admit and actions you can't take back. Not that you'd want to, anyway.

an| admittedly I've been working on this far too long, since October to be exact. I wasn't seeing a lot of older!reader fics and as a 26 year old I wanted to explore a dynamic between Eddie and someone older. I hope you enjoy and be ready for part 2 which will be even more filthy than this!

warnings| 7k, eddie is 20-21, female masterbation, eddie is persistent as fuck, stubborn!R, drug use (weed), reader is kinda bitchy but eddie likes it. MDI

“Eddie?”

“Hey, princess. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He smiles at you as a cold gust of wind blows past him and straight into your bones. Behind him the sun is setting into a tangerine colored, cotton candy sky.

“Lose your key again?” You ask, shivering in only a shirt and shorts, huddled behind the screen door with your arms wrapped tight across your chest.

Eddie shrugs sheepishly from the other side of the screen door, but his crooked grin tells you everything you need to know.

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck as he peers up at you through his lashes with puppy dog eyes. "I think I forgot it at The Hideout last night."

With a sigh and a halfhearted roll of your eyes you motion him in, smiling to yourself as you walk back to the sudsy dish water you had been wrist deep in when he'd first knocked.

"Starting to think maybe you should tie that key of yours around your neck." You quip as he settles himself at the little dinner table tucked into the corner of your kitchen.

It’s not a very big kitchen, smaller than your bedroom even, which means the ‘corner of the kitchen’ is only five feet from the L shaped counter. If you took two steps backwards you’d be in his lap. The thought has your stomach fluttering.

"Uncle Wayne said the same thing." He chuckles. "Says I'm costing him a fortune in key making."

"This is a common occurrence for you, huh?"

"No, not common... maybe like the sixth time…this year."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You laugh, wiping your hands off on the dish towel as you turn towards him. "Remind me not to ever hand you my keys."

He smiles at you with this cheesy grin that makes your stomach flutter like a teenage girls, heat rushing to your face when you notice the way he's sitting.

He’s leaned back in the walnut stained wooden chair, legs spread wide. His already tight black jeans stretched taut over his thick thighs and his worn Black Sabbath shirt has ridden up against the pale skin of his stomach, the dark line of his happy trail catching your eyes. It takes everything in you to look away, to not allow your eyes to stay glued to that sexy tuff of dark hair.

You turn back to drain the sink, willing the heat in your face away.

"Guess who's graduating this year?" He sounds jovial and you just can't help but tease him- just a little. Maybe it’ll ease the tension settling in the air of your kitchen.

"Hello, Eddie. I'm fine, how are you?" You say while you begin wiping the counters down, stepping over his long outstretched legs.

"Come on! Guess!" He urges, leaning forward to bump your elbow with his knuckles. You clench the rag in your hands tighter as you wipe down the stove.

"Well, I don't know any high school boys, other than you, so I'm gonna need a list of names to run through first."

"You're so mean to me." He says with high dramatics, taking the leather jacket he'd left here a couple days ago and tossing it over the back of a different chair.

"Eddie, I let you hang out, smoke you up, and I feed your gangly ass. God, I'm such a horrible, evil person." Your voice runs an edge of seriousness as you tease him, throwing a look over your shoulder in the process.

And, God, maybe you shouldn’t have looked back at him because he’s sitting there with his legs spread wide looking at you with that heavy simmer of his that you've started to notice and ignore. He's become a temptation, one you just can not fold to. It'd be wrong. You're older than him and he's still in high school, anything more than hanging out would leave you feeling dirty.

Unfortunately, you're not quite sure if it's a good kind of dirty or a bad kind.

"You're the worst." He drawls, fiddling with his trusty zippo. "You devilish woman, you."

The way he says it makes your spine tingle, makes you clench your thighs a little and hope he doesn't see.

"You hungry, kid?" Maybe a change in subject will evaporate the building tension in your small kitchen. You dig through the fridge as he sits silently behind you.

"You know I hate it when you call me that." His words mumbled when he finally speaks, sad almost, but he knows what you're doing. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the tension that was building between the two of you.

It starts off innocent enough. Three in the morning, dressed in only your silk robe and a pair of rain boots you'd found by your front door, you had trudged across the small gravel driveway between the two trailers and banged banged banged at the blue painted door. You didn't know your neighbor. You’d only lived in Hawkins a couple months at the time, but you did know that every night from 9 to 11 the sound of a wailing guitar was bound to rattle the fake crystal chandelier hung in your living room. Usually you could manage, put your tape deck on -drown it out- but that night the tinny punch didn't stop when the clock struck eleven or even at midnight. In fact it seemed to get even louder, like the person had turned the amp up, and you were fuming mad.

The door swung open so hard and fast it startled you and before you could chastise the person for making such an unnecessary ruckus, they were already apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't realize how late it was."

"You've been playing for hours, kid. Some of us have to work in the morning."

That anger you had as you stomped over dissipated quickly as you looked at his frazzled expression. He was young, obviously a metal head considering the long hair and all black attire, but his big chocolate brown eyes begged for forgiveness as they blinked back at you.

"I really am sorry, Miss. I'm learning a new song and… I guess I just got carried away." God, poor kid looked like he was about to get cuffed and loaded into the back of a cop car.

"S'fine, just go back to your normal hours. That I can deal with." You start to step down the rickety porch steps before you turn quickly and point your manicured finger at him. His eyes widened. "And don't fucking call me Miss, my name's y/n."

After that he seemed to make it his mission to run into you whenever you weren't locked inside your trailer. From meeting at the mailbox, to offering to mow your grass -which you really didn't have much of- to sitting next to you as you tended to your garden. It wasn't until a stormy cold evening that you invited him in. He said he lost his key and his uncle worked at the plant all night and into the morning. You made him dinner, watched a movie, and set him up on the couch for the night.

“Only this one time.” You'd said. “What do I look like letting a high schooler into my home?”

Eddie loathes when you do that to him, even now, level him down to simply a high schooler.

“I'm twenty.” He'd corrected, going as far as to show you his license. Sure enough he was, but you knew you couldn't let it go past a friendship. The town would think you'd corrupted him, they'd surely run you out with torches and pitchforks. Shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake.

But something was starting to grow between you two. You thought at one point it was merely fondness for the strange kid who spoke in codes half the time and made a show out of everything he did. It didn't take you much longer after that, though, to realize what was really growing. Sprouting the weeds in your chest.

You wanted him.

God, did you feel horrible about that one.

It didn't matter that he was twenty, legal, an adult, there was such innocence inside him. Heart on his sleeve, kindness in his smile. Anything other than friendship was a no go. You'd ruin this kid, you just knew it. You didn't have the best track record with men and the last thing you wanted was to take this young man and break his heart before he could even experience what young love could feel like.

Wasn't happening. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's why you'd call him kid, which he hated passionately and made sure to let you know. Why you wouldn't let him hug you like he begged and begged to do. Shit, it'd probably be easier to put on a chastity belt and call it a day. Every time you pushed him away, he'd barrel back head first. He was incredibly determined.

You were playing a losing battle.

"Sorry, bub. Forget sometimes." You toss halved tomatoes in a bowl of chopped lettuce, moving to place the cutting board and knife in the sink before going back to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you bent to look through the crisper, hair standing up on end as you tried your hardest not to look back at him. You know what you'd see if you did and the last time you'd caught him staring the tarry blackness of his wide pupils almost knocked you to your knees.

"Are you hungry, though?" You ask again, clearing your throat as you straighten your back and shut the fridge door. You make it a point not to look at him as you head back to the counter, an onion in one hand and a small pack of steaks in the other.

"Steak? Okay, I take back what I said before. You're an angel sent from heaven to save me."

"Ha, maybe in your dreams." You try to joke back but you can feel his body heat again as he squats down beside you to grab the cast iron skillet from the cabinet. He puts it on the stove and smiles up at you. You hadn’t even heard him stand from the chair.

"Always in my dreams, sugar."

His words send that sickly sweet rush of heat down into the pit of your belly. Your body so starved for a release it actually hurts.

Why does he have to make this so hard?

"So you're gonna graduate this year, huh?" Change the subject. Ignore the stupid fucking glint in his pretty brown eyes. It's starting to become a routine, really.

"I got a C in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, which isn't great I know, but it's enough for me to walk the stage." He raises back to his full height, looking down at you with that little smirk of his, watches as you peel the pale skin of the onion. "Will you come to graduation?"

You can't hide how his question surprises you, hands freezing against the clean cutting board, eyebrows furrowing together.

"I really want you to." He adds, closing in on you.

"Won't your uncle think it's weird some stranger is coming to watch his kid cross the stage?"

"He knows about you."

You drop the onion onto the board and it rolls off the counter when you turn to him.

"He knows about me? What's that mean?"

Eddie shrugs, so much closer than you expected him to be. You can smell the hint of smoke on his denim vest, see the deep vines of brown swirling his eyes. "I told him where I was that night I lost my key. He has this weird thing about me sleeping in my van, he hates it for some reason, so when he asked I just told him the truth."

"And?"

"And nothing." He laughs. "Why are you worried about what my uncle thinks?"

"Uh, because he's your guardian and I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage or-or corrupting you."

Eddie bursts out in laughter, head falling forward into your shoulder before he's leaning back and wiping under his eye as if there's a tear.

"God, sweetheart, you should be worried about the opposite. You haven't heard?" He leans in and narrows his eyes menacingly. His breath wafts over your cheek as he speaks. "I'm the town pariah. The town freak. Nobody is worried about ‘The Corruption of Eddie Munson’."

“That’s not true.” Your voice is a hush whisper as you answer back, trying your hardest not to choke on your own damn tongue. You’re locked onto his unwavering gaze, his body unyielding as he steps closer somehow. Fuck, he’s so close, if you just lean up a couple inches your lips could capture his.

No. Nope. Not happening.

You lean away as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair behind your ear and the simple touch -the simple intimacy of the gesture- sends shivers across your hot skin.

“Eddie.” You warn softly and he grins sheepishly.

“Sorry, I can’t help myself.” His breathing is still a little shallow.

“Eddie.”

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, far enough that he’s not almost pressed against you anymore but still close enough to feel the heat radiate off his body.

“Can you rinse the onion for me?”

With a nod he ducks to pluck the runaway vegetable from the floor before heading for the sink. He flips the tap on with a long finger and the hum of running water does nothing to drown the racing of your brain.

After a quiet dinner you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, a rerun of Murder, She Wrote playing on the TV. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed he’d brought to share with you and you find yourself leaning against the backrest of the couch, eyes glued to him as he takes a big bong rip.

“You really want me to come?” You ask, voice soft and airy, and Eddie hacks as his head whips toward you. He looks like a cartoon bull with the way the smoke shoots from his nostrils.

“Huh?” He manages as he splutters, clutching the neckline of his shirt as if that would fill his lungs with air.

“Do you really want me to come to graduation?” You ask again, handing your drink over to him and patting his back. He chugs the whole glass of Coca Cola, panting when he’s done.

“Fuck, I hit that too hard.”

“You’re about to be comatose off that hit.” You laugh, taking the glass as he hands it back to you. He settles back into the cushions with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Just what I wanted.” He chimes, his black lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes close. “What’d you ask me?”

You go to repeat yourself before noticing just how soft his features have become, sleep inevitably pulling at him. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think as you stand from the couch.

“Go to sleep, Ed.” You whisper into the dim lit room, covering him with the blanket that had become balled up in his lap.

“M’kay, nightie night.” He tucks his knees to his chest, nuzzling his face into the fabric of the couch and then he’s out, soft snores fluttering the stray string clinging to the blanket.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, like most nights. You spend hours laying there in the dark, watching the way the moon light reflects off your crystal window chime and sends arcs of purple candescent rays across your walls and ceiling. The tossing and turning comes next, an hour spent tracing the rays with your eyes has become boring and the lack of sleep makes your eyes heavy. Of course they aren’t heavy enough to allow you to succumb to the sleep you desperately long for.

Usually you’d reach for your little friend tucked away in your bedside drawer but with Eddie just down the very short hall, you don’t want to chance your noisy little friend waking up the meddlesome boy sleeping on your couch.

Eddie. The reminder of him shoots through you like an arrow, mind hastily rewinding to the way he all but cornered you in the kitchen earlier. The way your heart stuttered in your chest and your fingers ached to pull him by the collar of that stupid ripped Black Sabbath shirt until his lips were pressed against yours.

Okay. Stop.

You can’t think about him this way. He’s young, a good couple years younger in fact, there was no way you could allow these thoughts.

But if they are only thoughts, who do they really hurt? You won’t act on them, you know better than that. Know you can’t get wrapped up with the twenty year old super senior, not when you came here to specifically get away from the drama of your past. No. You have to be good. Have to resist his infallible charm. You need to turn over, close your eyes, and be good.

Yet your hand still wanders past the hem of your panties, down across the silky skin that lays underneath them. Your fingertip finds your clit immediately and your body jerks at the sensitivity of that little bundle of nerves, a surprised gasp leaving your lips in a rush.

Down the hall, bundled on the couch, Eddie coughs.

In your bed you lay frozen, heart pounding and ears listening intently. There’s no way you woke him up, not with just a gasp. You continue to listen for any other noise for a minute or two, heart steadily thumping and your fingers twitching at the anticipation of what you’re about to do because let's be real here. If you don’t come soon, you might actually implode.

Feeling safe to move forward in your little quest, you guide your fingers back down, teasing a trail through your wet folds.

His fingers would feel so much better. It’s not a helpful thought, not when you’re trying to think of anyone but him.

Fuck, okay.

Patrick Swayze in that tight black shirt in The Outsiders. No. Scratch that. Matt Dillion as Dallas in The Outsiders, all rough and tumble. Just what you like in a man. A little rough around the edges but a good soul.

You press tight circles on your aching bud, arch your chest into your hand as it slips under your loose nightie, pulling at your pebbled nipple. You can’t help the soft moan that floats out, can’t help the rut of your hips into your palm as you slip two fingers into your heat. You imagine Matt Dillon laying you down on the bed, burying his face between your thighs.

Oh, fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t a marathon; it’s a sprint.

Your body so pint up and begging for some sort of release you’re on the precipice in no time at all. Your body is on fire, hips canting wildly, you think maybe your bed is squeaking but you don’t care. Fuck, you can’t care. Not when you’re so close. Just a little closer.

Your imaginary scenario shifts suddenly and unexpectedly in your mind. Sexy Matt Dillion erased as Eddie’s face engulfs your vision completely. His beautiful face, those big strong hands of his, the tattoos, that little strip of black hair that leads down down down into his pants.

You come with a cry, shocking and loud, and you clamp your hand across your mouth as your eyes screw tightly, brow pinching together almost painfully.

His words from earlier replay as your body rocks through your orgasm in one vicious wave after another.

"You devilish women, you.”

Your thighs, trembling and slick, clamp around your own hand when you’ve had too much. Body relaxes into your silk sheets as you breathe slowly. But you’re filled with this zing like pins and needles from your fingertips to your toes and your mind is racing, and why the fuck did your brain betray you like that?

You feel it then, the soft call of sleep. The flutter of your eyes as you fight to keep them open. The trailer is silent besides the rough Illinois winds as they beat a lone branch against the roof. You roll over in your bed, nuzzle deep into the blankets. You’ll deal with whatever that was tomorrow or the next day. Or never. You take one last peek at your room, still a soft lavender hue, purple moonlight, before sleep takes over.

You don’t even notice the fact that your bedroom door had been left open just a crack.

Eddie is gone when you wake up the next morning, the sun casting its early morning rays into your windows. The only proof he was even there is the blanket he slept with the night before sloppily folded on the arm of the couch. You don’t think much of his earlier departure. He’s a busy guy running full steam ahead towards his graduation. So you go about your day as normal. Coffee made, a small breakfast of yogurt and some berries you wished you’d grown on your own. You tidy up from the night before, washing the dinner dishes and making a list you shove into the depths of your purse. You need to stop by the store after work, get dinner for the next couple nights.

The day goes on like so; slow and laborious. You try your hardest not to think about Eddie, try to place him at the back of your mind. You go through work at the Hawkins Journal mindlessly. Walk the colorful aisles of the grocery store with glazed eyes.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. It’s late, nearing seven, and the place where Eddie’s van calls home is empty. You assume he’s off doing ‘Eddie Things’ as you called his extracurricular activities that were not of the legal kind.

You decide to start dinner instead, talking to your friend from back home as you cook.

“Any new love interests?” She asks at one point, voice giddy with hope. It’d been a year or so since you broke up with your toxic ex and about nine months since you’d arrived in Hawkins with no interesting suitors.

“Nope, not one.” You rattle off as you stir your boiling water and pasta.

“Bullshit.” She says under her breath before she repeats herself, louder this time. More accusatory. “That’s bullshit. Nine months and not one guy you’re interested in? Did moving to that Podunk town automatically make you a nun?”

You laugh at this, rolling your eyes as if she could see.

“No, it didn't make me a nun. But most of these guys are married. Or boring. Or married and boring. Or..”

“Or?” She catches your avoidance, the tone you held as you trailed off from your former sentence.

“Or… nothing.” You avoid it as you strain your pasta.

“Babe.” She says sternly.

“Fuck. Or they're too young.” You plop the strained pasta unceremoniously in the pasta sauce and throw the white plastic strainer into the sink.

“Young? How young are we talking?” Her voice is fully scandalized and you can only imagine the bright smile she's wearing.

“20.” You sigh, leaning your hip against the counter as you stir with one hand and hold the phone against your ear with the other. “My neighbor. He’s…. He’s trouble.”

“Oh, so he’s your type, is what you’re telling me.” She chimes and you roll your eyes once again.

“No. He’s trouble for me. He’s a good guy. Kid. Person.” Another sigh from you as your friend chuckles.

“Oh, you are so bad off.” A giggle, then, “He’s legal, just go for it. You know, the world would be better if you got laid. You’d be less tense.”

“No. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet.” You say.

“He’s 20 and he hasn’t graduated high school?”

“He’s not stupid.”

“I didn’t say he was.” Her tone makes your skin crawl. She can tell -over the phone, miles away- just how defensive her question made you.

“He’s just a kid.” You say again, mostly to yourself.

“Babe, he’s twenty.”

“So what, I should just fuck him?” Your voice is getting higher, temper is starting to build. There’s no reason to get so worked up, you know your friend means well, but you know you can’t go there with Eddie. You’d just ruin him. You weren’t good at relationships.

“Calm down. I’m just saying. If you want it and he wants it and you are both legal consenting adults, what's the issue?”

“It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of him.” You mutter, abandoning your bubbling pasta to look out your window towards Eddie’s trailer. The van is still gone but now his uncle Wayne’s truck sits out front.

“Jesus, babe. You’re clinging on to this warped moral high ground you have with your pinkies. Just let go. Live for once. I thought that's why you moved out there anyway. To live your own life however you want.”

“It is.”

“Then fucking live it.”

Your friends' words worm their way into your brain, spreading like a disease. You get high to quiet the voice but that doesn’t work like you want. You end the night curled up on the couch with your book, not even reading the words on the page. No. All you can do is think about Eddie and those four damned words.

Then fucking live it

The days fade into even colder nights. You don’t see Eddie as much as you normally do, but he comes over every now and then to catch you up on how busy he’s been. He’s looking at you differently now, eyes lingering for too long. You don’t notice it at first, his constant heavy stare, more intense then his usual playful one and always on you.

He’s touching you more. Something your brain noticed after the fifth time the back of his hand grazed across your arm or hip or thigh. It made your whole body light up like a fucking Christmas tree.

His birthday whirls around. 21. He gets so drunk you find him laid out on his porch on your trip to the mailbox the next morning. His uncle sits on the steps smoking a cigarette, a fond smile on his face.

He’s back to losing his key and hanging around your trailer by the time graduation comes around. You watch him walk the stage in his green cap and gown, sitting right next to his uncle who sheds a silent tear. Eddie flips his principle the bird after snatching his diploma from his hands. A group of kids cheers rowdily to the left of you, whooping and hollering, and Eddie stands at the edge of the stage with his arms spread wide soaking it all in.

You don’t expect to see him that night, figured he’d be too busy partying with his friends, so it comes as a shock when there's a knock at your door quarter past eleven.

“Hey, princess.” He says when you answer the door. He’s leaning against your porch railing with a distinct smile on his face. It reads trouble and you are absolutely smitten.

“Hey, you. What’s up?” The screen door between you two does nothing to block the early spring breeze from invading your trailer.

“Lost my key.” He says simply.

“Oh, you did, huh?” You bite back the smile that wants to break across your face. You can tell he’s lying. Can see the little twinkle in his chocolate buttons eyes.

“Misplaced the damn thing again.”

“You have a problem, Ed.”

“I need your help, Miss.”

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the tremor in his voice, the desperate pleading cut with a playfulness that short circuits your brain. Eddie smirks, hand reaching towards the door handle. You beat him to it, locking the screen door as he goes to pull it open.

“What do you want, Eddie? I’m about to go to bed.” The tension is too much. If you let him in…

If you let him in, nothing will be able to stop you.

“You’re just gonna let me freeze out here?” He whines, dramatically shivering in his leather jacket, vest, and red flannel.

“Nice try.” You step back, starting to close the inner door when his hand slaps against the aluminum siding of your trailer, trying his hardest to catch your attention before you fully shut him out.

“I'm starving. I-I’ll sleep in my van but can I just borrow some bread, and peanut butter, and maybe some jelly?”

And just like that, you finally feel some semblance of control over this boy who makes it his goal to drag the desire out of its dark hidey hole deep within your chest.

Except, it’s not that deeply hidden. Not now. Not after all this time fighting to not feel this way for him. You know you shouldn’t let him in. He’s in a mood, you could tell the second you saw him, and you’re so pent up and horny you're destined to snap. To give in to this unholy feeling that's slowly suffocating you.

But he’s hungry and he’s pouting and giving you those lost puppy eyes…

You unlock the screen door and walk to the kitchen, knowing he’ll trail behind. He always does.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my stomach was gonna eat itself.”

You slam through your cabinets and fridge as he stands in the center of your small kitchen. You carry your small load to the kitchen table, dropping the food into a messy pile. Bread, lunch meat, lettuce and tomato, a jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of mustard.

“You can make it yourself, ya?” You ask and Eddie nods happily.

“So much better than a PB&J.” He says excitedly, sitting down at the table. You hand him a plate and a knife and decide now would be a good time to finish washing your dinner dishes.

Time passes quietly. The steady voices from the TV, Eddie’s soft groaning as if this sandwich is the best thing he’s ever eaten. It’s not as difficult to control yourself as you thought it was. But of course, you two aren’t speaking. The mood changes when Eddie opens his mouth.

“Can I have a drink?” He asks hesitantly, mouth half full and a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth as he chews.

You pop open the fridge and grab one of the sodas you’d bought for him a couple weeks ago. You set it in front of him with a gentle smile.

“Thanks.”

It’s a quiet dance, the way his hand somehow brushes your bare leg as you walk back towards the sink. You know he hears the way your breath hitches. Know he has his eyes on you even with your back turned.

He’s cleaned up his mess by the time you’re done with the dishes, wiping your hands off on a dish towel when he makes his way back from the bathroom. You can faintly smell your mouth wash on his breath as he leans next to you to place his plate in the sink.

“I’ll wash it.” He says, looking down at you with a brazen look. The control you felt earlier instantly dissipates.

“Okay.”

“You look nice.”

You roll your eyes at this, partially because it didn’t take him very long to fall back into his flirting but also because these little words really do something for you. All bets are off. If he pushes again there's no doubt you’ll give.

“Just a shirt and shorts.” You say back as he rinses the plate off.

“Still,” When he’s down he collapses in the kitchen chair with a grunt, digging for his cigarettes he knows he can’t smoke in your house. “I think you look beautiful. Always.”

“Are you full?” You decide to change the subject.

“Very. Thank you.” He's quiet for a minute, flicking the wheel on his Zippo as he stares at you. And then, “I’d make you feel better than anyone ever has.”

You hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare feet kicking against the pale yellow cabinet door, eyes lingering on him from where he sits. His legs are splayed wide, the muscles in his thighs straining against the overly washed black denim.

“Getting ahead of yourself there, bud.”

“Am I?” He asks as he sits up slowly, moves as lithe as a snake sizing up its prey. In an instant his whole demeanor has changed. He settles his elbows on his knees, levels you with a pensive look. His dark eyes narrow, but his grin widens and the contrast between the two makes you shiver.

“You are.”

“I’m not a virgin.” He says back quickly, a bite to his voice that doesn’t go amiss and you chuckle. He doesn’t like that, you can see it in the way his eyebrows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose.

“Never said you were. You’re just young, Eddie, and I’m not a high school girl who doesn’t know any better.” Okay, so maybe you weren’t going to allow yourself to give in so easily. Where’s the fun in that?

He chuckles dryly as he raises from his seat. He steps in front of you, not touching, but his hands fist at his sides like he wants to. Like he longs for it.

“Bold of you to assume I even mess with those high school girls.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, the groupies that hang out at The Hideout? Wait at the stage to tell you how good you are with your fingers?” There’s more bite to your words than you intend but if it fazes him he doesn’t seem to show it. His hot rough palms find the chilly hills of your kneecaps, his eyes flickering down to the exposed skin as he smooths his thumb there, before he’s locked back onto your withering gaze.

“You sound jealous, Sweetheart.”

And you laugh at this, a quick belly laugh that has your head falling back against the cabinet behind you. You laugh because you are fucking jealous and you hate yourself for it. You shouldn't be jealous of your freshly twenty-one year old neighbor burying his cock into a pussy that isn't yours. But fuck, it sears through you like a hot knife, made even worse as he eclipses the space that's left between you two.

“I’m not jealous.” You scoff while your body is ravaged with the flames of his touch. “I’m sure you’ve fucked any girl that let you put your hands up her skirt. But I’m not some easy little girl.”

“A woman.” His voice is entirely mocking as he ignores the hateful crassness in your words.

“Yeah, a woman, and it takes more than some sloppy head and eager dick to make me come.”

He settles himself between your legs, hands sliding up the expanse of your thighs until his fingertips dig into the flesh right below the hem of your little sleep shorts. He leans in, the smell of the weed he must have smoked before he came over lingering on his clothes and hair; the smell strong enough to have you feeling intoxicated.

Or, maybe that was all him.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” You want to wipe that smug grin away, slap him across his pretty face so he stops this before it goes too far, but one quick intrusive thought sends your mind into a tizzy.

He’d like it. Little fucking masochist.

“I’m not some innocent little kid, baby, I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t remember your name.”

As sexy as he sounds, as good as it sounds, you roll your eyes at his self assuredness. This sweet boy, the same boy that's confided in you about his past with tear filled eyes and spent hours blabbing about his DnD campaigns, saying he’d fuck you like an animal just feels so absurd. Yet it arouses you just as much, has your panties damp and sticking to your slick folds.

“You say that to all the girls you fuck?”

“See; jealous.” He hisses back, eyes so dark and blown wide you can barely see their beautiful umber color.

“Not jealous.” You shake your head, eyes begging to look away from his intense stare down, but you can’t. You’re trapped in his hypnotic slow blink as his eyes flash to your pursed lips.

“I think you’re lying.” He argues, a harsh whisper as his head tips against yours. Your breath leaves in a choked rush when he nuzzles his nose into the side of your head, teeth nipping your earlobe.

“Eddie.” You warn weakly, your hand splayed against his firm chest as you go to push him away, but Eddie has other ideas. He snatches your wrist up in a tight grip, guiding your hand slowly down his stomach until you're cupping his hard bulge. He’s hot under your touch and you both gasp in unison when he squeezes your hand against the heavy ridge of him under his denim.

“Eddie…” You try again halfheartedly, head knocking against his as his cock twitches at the breathy whimper of his name.

“Do you see what you do to me? You make me so hard." He rolls his hips up, drags his hard cock over your palm. His moan rumbles like thunder in his chest. “Want you so bad, I know you want me too.”

“It’s not gonna happen, Eddie.” You whisper back, try with all your might to steel yourself, to make your words sound steady and sure. You want to. Fuck, you really really want to. But there's still that part of you attempting to resist the burning flames of desire. “You’re a kid.”

“I’m not a fucking kid.” He growls, grips the underside of your knees to drag you further into him. You can feel him against the inside of your thigh, hot and pulsing and begging to be touched.

“It’s wrong, Eddie, please.” Your hands are braced against the counter as he presses his forehead to yours, pushes against you until your back is arched. Your core presses against his cock in the most agonizing way in this new position, stealing the breath from your lungs as he hovers his lips over yours.

“But it feels so good. Stop pushing me away. I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart.” His teeth drag quickly against your bottom lip and as he pulls away you chase after unconsciously, needing his touch -his taste- as much as he needs yours.

“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me. I have morals, you know.” You’re whining, head rolling to the side as he slowly starts to grind his hips into yours.

“Oh, your poor morals.” His hand is gripping your jaw in an instant, fingertips digging almost too roughly into the soft hollow of your cheeks. “You’re so sure you’re gonna corrupt me, which is laughable. Don’t you see, baby?” Eddie soothes his thumb across your bottom lip, drags it down till it bounces gently back in place.

“I want you to corrupt me. Use me. Teach me everything you know, everything you want, so you’ll never need anyone but me.”

His words hit you square in the chest but he doesn’t give you a second to interrupt. He has a point to prove and nothing will stop him now.

“I know you feel it, this thing between us that I felt the moment I saw you in that sexy little robe and your muddy rain boots. That night changed everything for me. You’re the only person who really sees me. I know it. Just like I know how hard it’s been for you. Resisting me, telling yourself how wrong it is and then moaning my name when you touch yourself in the dark of your room while I’m right down the hall. You can’t deny the cold hard truth, Sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen as you pull away from him. He lets you create space, lets you digest the bomb he just dropped on you. He’d heard you that night. You’d been so careful, so quiet. At least you thought you had.

“Tell me you want me. Let me make you feel good, baby. I know you need it. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Since someone has touched you; since someone made you come.” He’s so sure of himself. So sure that he’s hit the proverbial nail on the head. That he’s got you all figured out. You’re torn between giving him credit for being so observant and being pissed that he’s using it against you. But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by someone. So long since you’ve felt a touch other than your own and here he was offering himself up on a silver platter with the promise of rocking your world.

What was the use in fighting something that you both equally wanted? Two consenting adults giving in to the burning flames of desire.

“Eddie-” He cuts you off quickly, his hips still against you, his hands digging into your fleshy hips.

“Please, give me a chance.” His voice begs, thick with need and worry. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone if you say no. He’s well aware that the words leaving his mouth and the grip he has on you changes everything.

“Eddie.” You grab him by the tattered collar of his flannel, pull him in until your lips brush his. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He wastes no time slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You kiss him back, waiting for him to slow his pace, to calm down a little, but he just presses himself closer and grips the back of your neck in a shaky hold. The blunt crescent of his fingernails digs into the sensitive skin of your neck. His other hand leaves its bruising grip on your hip to hold you tight to him, chest to chest, hearts pounding in tandem against one another.

You let him lead, let him find his groove. Sloppy wet kisses turn slow and true, his nose bumping yours, his tongue licking into your mouth tantalizingly. The first time he does it you whimper, sure that if you had been standing you would have been weak in the knees. But you’re still locked onto the counter top, thighs clenched tightly around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into the backs of his thighs. You fought this for so long. One taste and now you’re not sure if you can let him go.

But that’s something to think about another time and not when Eddie has a handful of your breast, thumb rolling tight circles around your pebbled nipple that pokes through the fabric of your shirt.

“I knew you fucking wanted me.” He teases once he pulls away, a string of spit collected against kiss swollen lips. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are ruddy and he looks so god damn beautiful in the soft lighting of your kitchen.

You know there's no stopping you now. No going back. You were always just preventing the inevitable. You want him, you always have, and here he is serving himself up on a silver platter.

"Shut up and fuck me already, you punk."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Love Letters: Day Two

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [1.8K] some wildflowers, sunshine x grumpy with Eddie

THE LETTERBOX ♥

Eddie Munson was fucked.

And not in a good way, not yet, at least. ‘Cause it was seven twenty five on Valentine’s Day and he’d only realised when Hellfire had ended - an hour after it was supposed to. He’d overheard Mike and Lucas talk about meeting the girls outside the cinema at eight, how they had to stop by their homes to pick up the gifts before the movie.

Dustin was already rushing out to the parking lot to meet Steve, his ride to Weathertop where he’d sit for god knows how long in the dark so he could talk to Suzie. It took a minute, maybe two, before Eddie connected the dots, looked at the calendar hanging behind the old desk in the corner of the classroom and swore viciously, barging past his friends and pointedly ignoring their laughter.

“Hot date?” Steve called out to him from the driver’s window and he grimaced when he saw Eddie’s panicked expression. “Oh shit, did you forget?”

Eddie huffed out an exasperated sigh, giving in and confessing to his friend as he leaned over and clung to the window frame. “Yes! Yes, I fuckin’ forgot, ‘cause I’ve never had a girl before, Harrington, and fuck if I know what you’re supposed to do on Valentine’s Day!”

Steve grinned, selfishly enjoying the other boy’s despair. He shrugged, unhelpful as he leaned back in his seat and kept his eyes on the door for Dustin. “Were you supposed to make plans? Did she talk about it? Hint at anything?”

Eddie wracked his brain for any suggestion that you were interested in being wined and dined by him and he grimaced at the idea of having to wear a button up in a restaurant that provided him with more than one fork. But he shook his head, because you’d not said a word about the day, and it had made it a lot easier for Eddie to turn a blind eye to the pink hearts, the cupids, the red candy boxes.

“Nothin’,” Eddie replied.

Steve pondered for a moment and then shrugged again, too casual for the way Eddie’s heart was still hammering against his chest in what could only be described as abject horror. You were the first girl Eddie had really, really liked, and by some miracle, you’d liked him too. He didn’t want to fuck it up so soon and he groaned, feeling like he’d failed some sort of boyfriend test.

“Hey, hey, look,” Steve tried to placate, “maybe you’re off the hook, yeah? Maybe she doesn’t care about that kinda stuff, just buy her somethin’ cute instead, like a--”

Dustin came careening across the lot before Steve could finish, interrupting his sentence with the slam of a door and a shrill, “drive, Steve, drive!”

Steve merely rolled his eyes and turned back to Eddie, who looked distraught. “Dude,” Steve soothed, “it’s fine, okay? Your girl isn’t that big into all that romance shit, right?”

“Steve, if I'm late, Suzie’s gonna straight up murder me!”

“Good!” Steve barked back at the younger boy, “maybe I’ll know what peace is! Shit, uh, look it’s fine Eds, you’re fine, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Eddie didn’t get to respond before Steve was putting the car into drive and peeling out of the lot, the sounds of him and Dustin arguing barely heard over the squeal of the tires. Eddie was left in the dust, hands clenched into fists as he tried to work out what the fuck he was supposed to do. Steve was right, in a way. You weren’t huge on romance, not the over the top, cheesy, corny stuff you saw in the movies. In fact, Eddie saw you scrunch up your nose at anything that you considered over the top: the PDA couples at the mall, the huge stuffed animals at the last fair, the heart shaped boxes of chocolate, the cotton candy pink greeting cards that were the size of his Metallica poster on his bedroom door.

And that was fine, Eddie loved you for your likes and dislikes, your tough attitude, your aversion to early mornings and anything too happy. You preferred horrors to romances, a soft hand on your leg under the table over a public make out session, something for your eyes only rather than a declaration of love for everyone to see.

Eddie knew all that. He did, ‘cause he knew you better than anyone else. But he didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to get you for Valentine’s Day. Did you want anything? Was he a shit boyfriend for not setting up a date, a surprise? Would you be more mad if he came to yours with something garishly cute? Bright pink and sweet? Or was this some kind of test? A doomed failure

that would make him wanna kick himself?

So the boy scrambled to the van, flipping off Gareth and Jeff as they waved and laughed from their car, both of them already sparking up a joint that had been tucked in the sun visor. Eddie didn’t know where he was driving to, considering the shops at the mall were closed. The Main Street was the same, almost all of the businesses shut for the night and cloaked in darkness, the only lit windows coming from the busy restaurants that were filled with couples.

He drove to your house anyway, heading down the familiar streets that took him out by the farmers fields, the stretches of grass an inky blue in the dark and Eddie was cursing at himself until he spotted a patch of colour at the side of one field. The tires screeched as the boy braked hard, pulling over to the side of the road and leaping out, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.

There weren't many of them, but they were all pretty and soft coloured, a smattering of wildflowers by the edges of the wheat fields, pinks and lilacs, a burst of sharp red, a deeper violet thing amongst green stalks and leaves. Eddie grinned, an excitement bubbling in his chest, ‘cause he’d never seen any flowers in your room before. But there had always been an empty vase, a pretty blue thing that sat in the middle of your dresser, sad and unused.

Maybe it was for good reason, Eddie caught himself, a flicker of doubt in his head, maybe you didn’t like flowers, he thought. The boy certainly didn’t think you’d like the huge, overpowering bouquets from the florist on Fifth, the one with glitter covered butterflies between the petals, big, pink bows holding them all together.

But these ones, the delicate collection that was slowly growing in Eddie’s hand, were pretty. They were modest and sweet smelling, like the mere idea of Spring clung to them, like last night's rain. Maybe you didn’t like flowers, Eddie thought again, brow furrowed. Or maybe, no one had ever given you some.

So Eddie whispered a soft ‘fuck it’ under his breath and plucked some more from the ground, gentle as he bunched them together until the colours looked nice. He took his time to wind his bandana around the stalks, trying once, twice, three times to tie it in a bow, giving up and knotting it instead. But he was happy with his creation, something that felt like pride puffing warm in his chest, and the rest of the drive to yours went with a little less panic.

Climbing the tree outside your bedroom was the easy part, and so was avoiding your dad when the man walked past the hallway window. It was easy to knock on the glass, grin at you wide and bright when you opened the curtains and stared at him wide eyed.

It was harder to present the flowers to you - the petals only a little crushed from where Eddie had stuck them in his back pocket as he climbed. The boy watched your expression as he clambered into your room, the familiar smell of your perfume engulfing him. He caught the way your eyes went a little wide, the downturn of your lips ticking upwards, if only just. But he knew you, he knew you so well and the way you bit down on your lip, the way you looked at him from beneath your lashes - fuck - it sent his heart racing.

You took in each flower, each different shaped petal, the reds, the purples, the one shocking pass of pink in the middle, all wrapped in Eddie’s black and white bandana. You took them from the boy’s outstretched hand, eyes sweeping over the blush on his cheeks and nose, his soft brown eyes that looked so unsure.

“I don’t really care about Valentine’s,” you said quietly, but Eddie heard the way your breath hitched.

“S’aright,” he drawled back just as softly, “I wanted to get you somethin’ anyway.”

There was a beat of silence, just for a second, maybe two, and Eddie wondered if you could hear his heartbeat, the way it rattled against his ribcage. Surely you could, he thought, it was the loudest thing in the room.

And then, he saw you melt. He watched it happen, the perpetual storm cloud that hung over you (the one he adored) lifted and your face turned softer, expression going a little gooey, just for him. Your eyes shone, lashes fluttering before they closed and you crushed the petals to your face, sniffing delicately before you grinned, trying your best to hide it amongst the flowers.

Eddie caught it anyway.

He tried not to look too smug as he lazed on your bed, shoes kicked off and left at the foot of it, an arm slung behind his head as he watched you arrange each bloom in your pretty blue vase. And when you were done, Eddie beamed at you and you rolled your eyes, fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and kill your own smile but it was an impossibility.

So you crawled up the length of him, clumsy with giddiness until you were settled on his lap with your legs either side of his hips. He let you press your hands over his chest, loving it when you got touchy like this, soft like butter, sweeter than honey for him. Eddie hummed when you skimmed them upupup until they were cradling his jaw, thumbs a soft press on his cheeks.

“No one’s ever got me flowers before,” you confessed and Eddie pouted at you even though inside he was cheering, a one man celebration that only he could hear.

“No?” he replied, “that’s a damn shame, sweetheart. D’you like them?”

A loaded question, the moment of truth, another heavy silence.

And then, relief. You nodded, uncharacteristically shy about it and Eddie beamed, pulling you down to him so he could kiss your cheek, your nose, the corner of your mouth. He caught your smile with his lips and it fizzed on his skin like cotton candy.

“Yeah,” you whispered into his neck and you kept smiling, even though you did your best to hide it from him. He could feel it anyway, a warm press of happiness on his skin and it made him hold you tighter. “Thank you, Teddy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #LLFE #stranger things fic

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 4 months

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Giant moon goddess in one piece?

-It was an unusually calm night, there was no wind, and no waves, the Sunny was completely still under the bright moonlight. But that just made for perfect conditions for a drinking party!

-Plenty of drinks and booze, music, dancing and just having fun, the Straw Hats were enjoying themselves, having a rare calm moment.

-A large shooting star streaked across the sky and they all called out in amazement before calling out their various wishes, money, more food, more drink, adventures, cotton candy, and more.

-They weren’t expecting the start to suddenly change course, turning sharply and charged towards them, making many of them scream out in fear.

-The star hit hard into the ocean before them, causing a massive wave to hit the ship, one that nearly had it tipping over if it hadn’t been for Franky’s failsafe, to keep it from tipping.

-Luffy ran to the edge of the ship, seeing the bright glow under the waves, and his eyes widened as it got closer and closer, as if it was surfacing.

-A large pair of hands, ones that seemed to be even more massive than the largest giant, Oars, picked up the ship, to keep it from rocking as a massive figure emerged from the water.

-Long flowing hair that seemed to shine like the moon itself, dark colored eyes that looked to house stars, and a soft, sweet smile against milky white skin- you were stunning.

-Gaping mouths and wide eyes were all that you had seen across the ship as you smiled, lowering it back into the water as you shrunk down, “Forgive me if I startled you- I heard you all calling out and I thought you were calling out to me.”

-Brook immediately bowed at the waist, in awe of you, “May I see your panties?!” before several of them whacked him on the head, disciplining him.

-You didn’t seem bothered, lowering yourself a bit more as Sanji had hearts for eyes, telling you how beautiful you were, as Luffy had stars for eyes, “Who are you?!”

-His enthusiasm was refreshing, and it made you smile, “My name is Y/N- I am a moon goddess.” They all seemed stunned at your words, as they had dealt with ‘gods’ before, but there was something different about you- something ethereal, unearthly.

-Jinbei, being well versed, gave you a toothy grin, “I often heard tales about how a moon goddess could be seen on calm nights. Seems like it’s not a tale after all!”

-You smiled softly, giving him a small nod, “You are correct young one, I like to spread my wings and fly on clear nights, as I like how the sparkling lights dance on the calm waters below.”

-Jinbei seemed a bit flustered, being called young one, as if he were a child, but if you were a moon goddess, you were way older than he was.

-The Straw Hats welcomed you to their party, despite not being able to accommodate you for food or drink, but you didn’t mind- you just enjoyed being included.

-Zoro and Sanji showed off for you, using their combat skills to fight one another, at least until it got serious and Nami had to punch them, sending them both to the ground, “Knock it off!!”

-Chopper was initially scared of you, since you were so large, but he quickly learned that you were very gentle and kind, despite your massive size.

-Robin and Franky both asked you questions, mostly about the past, wanting to know if you had seen technology and civilizations of the past, “I have seen many things come and go- as much as it pains me to say but nothing lasts forever. But I always enjoy watching you humans build and discover- it’s never the same each time.”

-Usopp was bragging to you, trying to make himself feel big in your eyes, but he didn’t need to, as you found him amusing on his own.

-Luffy was so warm, so welcoming, there was something about him, something special but also familiar. A flash of someone crossed your mind for a moment, a bright smile on his face and your eyes softened, happy to feel his warmth once again.

-As the moon began to set and sun began to rise you rose out of the water, showing your long flowing dress that looked to be black with jewels littering it, almost like the night sky, “My time is coming for us to say goodbye until we meet again.”

-They all cheered up at you, calling out to you, thanking you for the evening and you smiled softly, “And thank you all. It was nice to meet new friends, as well as an old one.” As you said this, you looked at Luffy, who was confused, wondering what you had meant.

-You parted with another smile, floating up before taking off into the sky, rejoining the stars before streaking across the sky once more, like a shooting star.

-They all looked at Luffy, wondering if he knew what you meant by an old friend. His hands came to his hips, a big smile on his face as he laughed warmly. They all smiled, a bit exasperated with their captain, it seemed only he knew the secret, for now.

#one piece #luffy #zoro #sanji #nami #usopp #chopper #robin #franky #jinbei #brook

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junipers-archive · 1 year

Text

Happy Halloween

Word Count: 900

Includes: fluff, tooth rotting fluff really; about Spencer and reader on Halloween night enjoying whatever Spencer has planned!! (also ik its not halloween but in my head it always is.)

You hadn't exactly planned the night. In fact, you'd left it up to Spencer to decide how you'd spend you halloween together.

This of course landed you with tons of unanswered questions as you followed him out of the car, trailing behind him cautiously since he was known for acting particularly spooky near the holiday.

Meaning he was more likely to jump scare whoever he was with at the time.

This year you'd both agreed to dress up as Emily and Victor from the corpse bride, him because he had an affinity for Tim Burtons films and you because it had always been one your favorites as a kid.

However as your dress begins to drag, you get closer to what looks like the end of the parking lot, and you begin to hear carnival music you regret your choice of outfit just slightly.

"Spence where are we?"you question, stopping in your tracks.

He looks back at you, smiling, "Trust me?"

You take a few steps forward linking arms with him then, "Always."

As it turns out, you find he had taken you to Washington's "Spooktacular Carnival" event in one of the many parks nearby. As you entered you were both greeted by a Man dressed as Frankenstein who only grunted and pointed when you asked where you could get a map.

From there you both explored to your free will, first stopping at one of the many food trucks nearby to "aquire sustanacance for the spookiest night ever" as Spencer put it. You marveled at the food given to you seeing as it was halloween themed and your tacos looked as though they were somebody's guts and his burrito looked like the remains of someone's flesh.

Though provoking less than hungry appetites within you, you ate your meals and went on your way, stopping by a myriad of carnival-turned-halloween games,

such as "Witches brew" which involved you making your own liquid nitrogen ice cream,"The butcher shop" in which you both entered a pumpkin carving contest and the "Mummy's Demise" in which you happily wrapped your boyfriend in toilet paper, blind folded him and then guided him through a maze filled with 'ghouls and monsters of the undead'.

To say the least many games such as these drained the life out of you, which Spencer proudly stated was the "point of hallow's eve!"

Your favorite game over all though had to be the apple bobbing contest in which Spencer, being Spencer who was so dear of Halloween, dunked almost his entire upper-body into the barrel of water searching for the apples.

Completely forgetting, of course, that he had put makeup on earlier that night to maintain his "dead-ish" look.

After, if not console him on his loss in the contest but also appease your once more growling stomach, you bought some cotton candy for the two of you, which was needlessly to say, being advertised as the brains of the Walking Dead.

By the end of the night you had explored every inch of the carnival, winning the pumpkin contest and getting the two top prizes, a giant bag of candy, which Spencer took excitedly and a Sephora gift card, which you also accepted with glee.

The last stop, was as both of you had been referring to it all night "the big Kahunna", aka the Haunted House. The line was so long you both had decided to buy the tickets for the latest time, there was no avoiding it now. Both your scaredy-cat butts were about to be spooked.

"Y/n I know you're tired...we can just go home." Pleaded Spencer, but you wouldn't let him chicken out this late in the game.

So, you linked arms with him perhaps for the last time that night and stepped up, giving a woman dressed as The bride of Chucky your tickets while Chucky, which you assumed was her date, led you to the entrance.

To say the least you were jump-scared more than once going into the house with was decorated in an old Victorian fashion that gave you the creeps. As Spencer nervously racked his brain for facts to list off about the time era and how Halloween was celebrated in Victorian England, which you learned was throwing lavish parties including intricate rituals and everyone involved.

You however also learned that he is terrified of spiders more than any of the creatures that were popping out at you. And that you were more genius than your genius for bringing a camera in to record his reactions, earning you tons of footage of his albeit cute but equally laughable surprised face.

The haunted house led you guys through a series of rooms, including scenes played out of 'Frankensteins creation', 'Dracula's breaking', 'The Shining's' most origonal scene and more.

Some were even interactive which as Spencer thoroughly enjoyed, as you were more happy to watch the scenes play by.

In the end, you walked out covered in fake blood, spider webs and god knows what they threw at you, grinning like idiots. But never once had you felt un-safe with him beside you, still with your arms linked you walked back to the car together, hands filled with the trinkets and treats gathered that night.

Just before you got to the car he turned to you still grinning, kissed your temple and whispered "Happy Halloween".

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bonezone44 · 8 months

Text

‘Stages of Grief’

Word Count: 1968

Joel x Reader

image credit

Summary: After a tense interaction with a family member who raised you when you were little, you spiral. Joel talks you through it.

Tags: Reader gender unspecified, angst, grief, familial neglect, childhood emotional/physical abuse

a/n: Read if your family sucks. Read if you like crying. Read if you’re crying-curious. But also keep in mind that I’m a random person on the internet who writes fanfiction. Not a therapist.

++++++

‘It’s not fucking fair,’ you tell yourself. The pain shooting through your body in a way that feels unending.

How can an emotion feel so much worse than anything else?

How can a thought trigger a full body nuclear meltdown? How can it send you burning and twisting and writhing and regressing into the small child you once were?

Years have passed since you were a little kid, being tugged around and shoved from place to place, trailing behind the adults in your life. All your curiosities being ignored. Your questions going unanswered. Your needs being shoved aside so they could do whatever the hell they thought was so much more important than you. Their child. Their responsibility.

But what about you? What about your needs and desires? What about all the shit that you wanted to do?

You still remember staring up at the glowing carousel–the colorful, twinkling lights mirroring the stars in the night sky. The beautifully painted horses gliding up and down to a fun, jaunty tune playing loudly from some hidden location within. Your eyes sparkled with majesty and wonder. And you remember how the whole place smelled like popcorn–rich and buttery. The memory always made you hungry when you thought about it.

“I wanna go on that next!” you pointed and shouted with hope and excitement.

You heard an angry scoff. “We’re not going on a fucking kiddie ride.”

“But I wanna go!” you stomped.

They turned around and got in your face. “Well too fucking bad!” They yanked your arm, tugging you through the crowd. Other adults. Other kids. Other people with cotton candy and stuffed animals and new light-up toys and big smiling faces.

You started crying. It felt like your whole world was shattering. “But I wanna go!” You kicked and screamed. You wanted to have fun. You wanted what you wanted.

They shoved you into a corner and got into your face again. This time it was accompanied by their finger and a suffocating cloud of anger. “I don’t give a shit about what you want. Now shut the fuck up and don’t fucking embarrass me.” They whispered fiercely.

“But–”

They slapped you hard across the face.

It stung. Badly. You felt dizzy.

But it got you quiet.

“Now I’m gonna go down there and hang out with my friends–” they said, pointing down the dim, smelly alley behind the stalls. You saw two men in dirty aprons, sitting on buckets and smoking cigarettes with greasy fingers. “--and you’re gonna shut the fuck up.”

You pouted and sniffled, but had no choice in the matter. They were your adult. You had to go wherever they went. There were no other options.

And now you’re older and wiser, but anytime you’re with them or think about them or meet someone who reminds you of them–it sends you into a spiral. As if they still have their hand wrapped around your arm and you’re still begging them to let you get your way.

“You gotta talk to me, darlin’,” says Joel.

You can’t even see him. You know he’s in the room but your head is a thunderstorm and it’s raining out your eyes. “They do this. They do this every fucking time!” You choke out through sobs. “They can’t be happy for me. They can’t let me have anything!” The last word comes out with a stomp. You clench your fists and dig your nails into your palm. The pain is sharp and you shake your head, burrowing into it. “They never give me anything!” Never give you their attention, their love, their respect. It didn’t matter if you still lived in their house or not–they still saw you as a burden. “It doesn’t matter what I say or-or-or how I say it. They just refuse to fucking hear me!” They wouldn’t even listen when you spoke. “I have tried everything and nothing works.” You wipe your eyes, attempting to compose yourself.

“Then why do you keep tryin?” he asks.

You stare at him dumbly. “‘Cause they’re supposed to! They’re supposed to-to-to–” You break down harder. You can barely say the words in your own mind, but somehow they come out your lips. “They’re supposed to love me!” Your anger recedes, replaced with pain. Pure heart-stinging pain. You rub your chest with your palm. “They’re supposed to love me, Joel.” Your head falls back, your eyes on the ceiling. You can feel the muscles straining in your neck. “But they don’t!” Your mouth is wide and grimacing as you cry. “I can’t even get them to care about me!”

“Then why do you keep tryin?”

“‘Cause they’re supposed to,” you pout. Your brow is tight and you can feel yourself getting a headache.

“But they don’t.”

Hearing those words from Joel–it knocks a part of you back into place. Like you had spread out into a puddle of tears and he’s scooping you back together. You’re still hurting, though. You’re still crying.

“So why do you keep tryin’?” he asks again. “When you know they don’t care?”

“Because… because I want them to. I want them to care about me. I want them to know me. It’s not fair that-that-that I’m living this whole life without them and they just… they don’t even make an effort.”

“So stop tryin’.” He shrugs. His arms are crossed against his chest. “Stop givin them the effort that they won’t give you.”

“But I have to–”

“No,” Joel says firmly. “No, you don’t.”

“But–” you’re not giving in. You refuse. Your leg is shaking. You wanna beg him. Plead him. “But they’re my family.”

Families are supposed to love each other. Share stories. Call on the weekends. They’re supposed to learn and heal together. They’re supposed to be interested in one another’s dreams and struggles and achievements. They’re supposed to be lifelong companions. And when you’re an adult–they’re supposed to make the effort to heal whatever wrongs occurred during your childhood.

“I can’t just… leave ‘em, you know?” Your lips are trembling as you try to get the words out. “I can’t just give up on them.”

“Yeah–” Joel’s eyes are wide and serious. “Yeah, you can.”

“But–”

“You don’t owe them shit, darlin’,” he says. “It don’t matter if they fuckin’ raised you.” He shrugs. “It don’t matter how much money they spent on you or the time they took outta their shitty little lives to take you to school or soccer practice or to fuckin’ feed you.” He steps closer to you. “If you feel like shit every time you talk to them or try to… reach out–then stop.” He shrugs his shoulders again. “They coulda gifted ya a million fuckin dollars and it still wouldn’t make a difference.” He stares right into your eyes. “You don’t own them anything.”

Your sobbing has ceased, though your cheeks are still wet. “Then what am I supposed to do?” you ask. What are you supposed to do with this piece of you? This solid chunk of yourself that sits in your gut. What is it supposed to do if it’s not desperate and yearning for your family’s attention and approval and support?

“Nothin’.”

“...What?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says while shaking his head.

“But…” But that didn’t make sense. You were always doing something. You were always seeking and reaching and tugging and pulling and grasping for them. You were always begging and pleading and crying and aching and needingneedingneeding them.

“But…” And you could feel yourself releasing–like the odd burst of blood flow you got after unclenching your fists. When you had been holding onto something so tightly for so long that you stopped even feeling your own hand anymore. Didn’t know you had fingers. The only thing you noticed at the end of your arm was a strange sensation.

And when you finally let go, unpeeling your fingers, your joints moved unfamiliarly and uncomfortably. Your muscles trembled and shook–feeling weak. Your fingers were warm and tingly and pulsed. It made you think of a balloon popping–without the sharp sound. It was dull and matted and flat, but also exploding and alive and free.

“I don’t have to do … anything?” you asked. Because how the hell was that possible? Because once again, you were always doing something. Always feeling some sort of way.

“All you gotta do is live your life and do what you wanna do. In whatever way you can.” He shrugs. “If they show up, they show up.” He holds his palm out. “But you don’t owe them anything if they do. Even if they try to tell you that you owe ‘em.” He shakes his head. “You don’t.” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Nobody asks to be born, darlin’. But that don’t give them permission to treat you like shit for it. And you don’t owe them for doin’ the bare minimum to keep you alive.”

“So I can just… do whatever I want?” The tears return and you’re not sure why. There’s still pain inside you, stored deep in your muscles. But the twisting ache in your gut isn’t as strong as it was before. You feel lighter. Lighter than you ever have in your whole life, you think.

“You can do whatever you want.”

You start crying again, in a mix of confusion and hurt and relief. But you’re nodding. You’re agreeing with Joel. God, you can’t imagine what you must look like right now. Probably covered in snot, swollen eyes and lips. You just cried like a little baby and he watched you and talked you through the whole thing. You feel so silly and stupid and–grateful. You feel so grateful for Joel.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing back tears. “Thank you for loving me,” you choke out and you reach out to hug him and his big arms wrap all the way around you.

“Of course, darlin’” he whispers and kisses your head. His hands rub up and down your back as you sway into each other. “Of course.”

Once the tears fully stop, and you can think of your family without immediately falling apart, you sigh and let go of Joel.

His big hands cradle your face and he kisses you on the forehead. “Gonna get you some water,” he says and leaves the room.

You know this won’t be the last time you do this–grieve your family. But it’s a start. It’s a baseline. It’s a feeling you know you can seek out again when the next spiral hits. And then the next spiral. And the next.

But it will take less time in the future when you know the destination–when you can recognize the end of the journey. And even if Joel isn’t around for those, he was around for this one. The first one and worst one. And he didn’t judge you or silence you or push you away for having your feelings or expressing yourself. He didn’t treat you like a burden or toss you aside for being you and dealing with your shit.

And he didn’t try to replace your family. He didn’t try to become the new target of your yearning and desire and need for approval. Because he knows he can’t be that for you. He can’t be your new family–your new lifelong companion. Only you can. Only you know your own thoughts and desires and ambitions and dreams. Only you can be there inside your head at every waking moment and every sleepy night. And when that solid chunk inside of your gut starts to spread, grasping like ivy for something outside of you to fix you or approve you–you have to scoop it back in and tell it, “No. I don’t have to do anything. I can do whatever I want.”

+++++++

a/n: I'm currently enjoying my ride on the 'Joel x Reader x Healing' train. Most of my fic titles end with "(18+)" and I was tempted to put "(Fun for All Ages)" on this one 😂

#joel miller x reader #grief

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aeoncss · 9 days

Note

Hiiii I love your Mike content 😭💗!!! I was wondering if you could write headcannons about Mike developing a crush on the older sister of one of Abby’s friends? Like they meet at a school event or something </3 I can’t stop imagining him arranging sleepovers and stuff to see her shsssddsfs

hopelessly devoted | mike schmidt x fem!reader

a/n: this is SOO cute, thank you so much for sending in the request anon! <3

cw: guardian anxiety? mike being anxious, as always. some cute sibling / friend interactions. pining towards the end! not proof read bc my eyes hurt lmao.

after the events at freddy’s, abby was slowly coming out of her shell and making new friends — which made mike so incredibly proud, considering it was radio silence from her for so long.

he loved seeing her immediately run off to her small group of friends and acquaintances whenever he dropped her off for the day at school, seeing how happy she became.

when he went to pick her up one evening, abby had asked if one of her friends could stay over later in the week— begging mike to let her have a sleepover.

he was hesitant at first, still not quite over what happened at the pizzeria which made his paranoia spike, so he only agreed if he could meet her friend’s parents or guardian first.

which, led mike to abby’s friend — angelica’s older sister.

to you.

it was at a small school event. abby’s grade was putting together a small fair for the upcoming fall holiday, so a little harvest was in place. there were scarecrows, face paintings, quick crafts for the kids to enjoy, and overall just enough activities to keep both the parents and children happy.

abby pleaded with mike to go, asking him over and over for a week straight until he gave in and took a day off of work.

although he was happy that abby was having the time of her life — a smile stretched around a beautifully drawn butterfly across her lips and nose, mike couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t belong there.

he was her older brother, not abby’s parent. guardian, yes, but this wasn’t meant for siblings. it was meant as a bonding pair between parents and their child, and as the night progressed, mike was slowly beginning to feel worse.

of course, he was happy for his little sister. happy that she was getting out of her shell and running around everywhere with a giggle, but here he was — following behind with glares directed towards him, most likely from the incident back at the mall.

he hated the lingering eyes. the hushed whispers. it only caused his skin to trickle with anxiety and his tongue to bloat. he wanted out.

“mike!” abby shouted with a giggle, skipping over towards her big brother with her hand clasped in another. angelica came in tow next to her, her face decked out in some batman face paint.

“what’s up, kiddo?” mike questioned — looking down at the pair with a quirked brow.

the two girls before him shared another laugh before abby had turned around, pointing towards another figure standing alone by a small field of fake corn and hay.

“that’s angelica’s sister! you said if you meet her then we can have a sleepover!” mike’s younger sister beamed.

mike’s brows furrowed the more he looked at the absent stranger, his eyes focusing on the way her mouth seemed to contort into a frown, and that she kept glancing over towards angelica. from what he gathered, just to make sure she’s okay.

“…where are your parents, angelica?” mike had asked cautiously, looking down at the replicate-batman standing before him, who was plucking a piece of cotton-candy into her mouth.

angelica’s features softened as a shrug appeared across her shoulders. “i dunno. y/n takes care of me when they’re not home.”

abby budged in, little hands grabbing at his wrist to catch mike’s attention. “pleassseeee mike! you would be the best big brother ever!”

okay, now he can’t turn that down.

a sigh escaped his lips as he accepted defeat, smiling down at the two girls quickly before raising a hand to ruffle up abby’s curls. “okay, fine. i’ll go talk to her. but don’t go too far, okay?”

“okay!” abby and angelica shouted, immediately making a beeline towards a table that had supplies set up to make turkey-hand pictures.

as he watched the two girls run off, mike bit at the inside of his cheek, a hand moving through his hair. before he knew it, he was beginning to walk towards angelica’s older sister.

as he came within ear shot, he awkwardly cleared his throat — already hating the fact that he felt swarmed in social anxiety.

your eyes drifted over from where angelica hovered at the table, to now mike standing before you, a little surprise to your features. before you could speak, he was already taking the initiative.

“hey… you’re angelica’s older sister, right?” he asked tentatively, a little hesitation in his voice.

then you laughed, softly.

“yeah, yeah. i’m y/n, you must be mike?” you responded with a subtle smile, the exchange catching mike off guard.

“how do you..—“

“angelica loves to tell stories.” you grinned, looking down at your feet for a second, your eyes meeting together once more when you glanced back up. “and she tells me all the time about how she wants a sleepover with abby, but her big brother has to speak to me first.”

a laugh — a genuine laugh fell from mike as his shoulders shook slightly, lips contorting into a smile as he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“yeah… sorry, it’s just a precaution.”

“don’t even worry about it. i get it.” you reassured, taking a quick look at your younger sister who was now holding up a picture of her magical turkey to show abby. you chuckled.

“uhm,” mike’s voice steered you away, pulling your attention towards him, “angelica said that you’re taking care of her right now..?”

he watched as you nodded, noticing the subtle purse of your lips as they tightened for a second, parting only shortly after.

“yeah— my parents are really busy, so i’ve been taking some time away from college to look after angelica.” you explained softly, rubbing at your arm gently.

“my dad’s a pretty hefty lawyer and my mom travels for work, so there’s no one else except for me.” you cleared your throat, putting on a small smile.

mike nodded, feeling a little guilty but at the same time, remorse and familiarity. you two weren’t in the same boat, but definitely shared some aspects.

“hey, i get it.” mike smiled, his voice soft despite the mantra of children yelling and laughing all around them. “just wanted to make sure you weren’t a serial killer or anything.”

that comment alone made a loud laugh spill from your lips, enough that you attempted to hide it with your hand — eyes glimmering towards him.

“absolutely not.”

since then, mike approved sleepovers — but only if they were at his place, still feeling a little iffy having abby at another persons house, but that paranoia slowly begin to die away the further mike was able to spend time with you.

you would drop angelica off on friday night, talking with mike at the door while angelica immediately threw her stuff down and bolted towards abby’s room.

“angie, you can’t just leave your stuff like—“ you tried to lecture gently, letting out a sigh when it became apparent that it was a lost cause.

mike looked down from where he held the door open, laughing at the small pile of clothes and toys now by his feet.

“i’m sorry—“

“don’t sweat it. they’re kids.” mike reassured with a chuckle.

when he looked back up to you, there was a pull he felt. like an inkling, almost.

“do.. you wanna come inside real quick? the weather is kinda nasty,” he asked, glancing behind you to see the cruddy rainstorm beginning to peak.

hesitation lingered on your features before a shrug danced off your shoulders. “sure, i don’t have anything else to do tonight.”

you weren’t expecting to stay longer than thirty minutes, so when you glanced down at your watch to see that you had stayed for almost three hours came as a surprise.

of course, abby and angelica blindsided you both and immediately wanted to play all these different games at once. dress up, cops vs. robbers, hide and seek. you were slumped after racing around the house for the umpteenth time, exhausted after finding angelica hiding in a freaking kitchen cabinet whilst playing hide and seek.

you fell back onto the worn couch in the living room with a sigh, wiping some sweat that gathered on the crown of your hairline. in your peripheral, you saw mike coming in from the kitchen with a water bottle, and you sighed happily when he handed it to you.

“thanks.” you beamed, grinning softly as you took a few swigs. “jesus christ, i forgot how energetic kids were.”

mike boasted a laugh, sitting down beside you with a grunt. “tell me about it. i didn’t think hide and seek could be that exhausting.”

“right?!” you laughed loudly, eyes widening as you looked over at him. “i remember hiding behind curtains and inside closets, not in the freaking kitchen cabinet?”

“abby somehow hid behind her desk. i don’t even want to know how that was possible.”

conversation felt easy between the two of you. even back at the harvest festival, where mike was afraid he was going to make a fool out of himself somehow, you were able to strip away that anxiety.

“hey… uhm, thanks for letting abby and angelica do this.” mike suddenly spoke, pulling you away from your thoughts. you glanced over to see him looking down at his hands that rested in his lap.

“abby’s had a hard time making friends until she met angelica, and i’m just— really happy she’s getting out, being a kid, you know?”

your heart clenched at his words, brows contorting into a sympathetic look as you smiled over at him softly.

“angelica doesn’t really understand why our parents are gone so often. every time she comes home, she gets all excited to see them and the disappointment on her face when she realizes that they’re not home is…” you trailed off, smiling sadly.

“i’m really glad angelica has abby. i don’t see the disappointment on her face anymore when she comes home. now, all she has are a bunch of stories of what the two of them did during school.”

the smile that graced mike’s lips caused your heart to thump — a sudden skip that surprised you. it caused his eyes to crinkle slightly, the smallest bit of a laugh falling through that made your heart race even further.

“i think,” you spoke out, not realizing that the words were spilling from your lips until you could hear yourself speaking, “that we should let them have a sleepover every friday.”

maybe it was because you wanted to make a tradition with abby and angelica.

or maybe it was because you wanted to see mike more.

your gazes met, and mike grinned, nodding his head.

“sounds like a plan to me.”

#sorry if the ending is a little rushed );#also will go back and edit this later #just wanted to get it out there!#mike schimdt x you #fnaf movie mike #mike schimdt x reader #fnaf mike schmidt #fnaf mike #mike schmidt

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first-edition · 8 months

Text

Sunday Love

“Southern belle”Reader x Cowboy! Bucky

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors)

Sum- You‘re back home visiting your mother and sister only to be introduced to your sisters fiancé and his best friend, who just happens to be town heartthrob.

CW- fluff, Fem reader, talk of scars, hint of alcohol consumption, eventual smut, p-in-v Unprotected, breeding kink if you squint, kissing, pet names, profanity. Blood, anger, cussing

“There she is!!” Your mother runs Down the stairs of the porch pulling you into a hug.

“Mama!” You smile hugging her back. The sweet smell of fresh backed pie wafting through your noise as she squeezes you.

“How’s the big city treating you darlin?” She asks excitedly. Evened since you moved out of the house you’ve lived in Vegas you barley have time to visit your family all the way back in south of Montana.

“Loud. Im uh im actually thinking about moving back here but I know yet.” You reply she smiles even wider pulling back from you.

“Where’s peg?” You ask.

“PEGGY GET OUT HERE!” You mother yells her thick southern accent drowning the noise of your car engine still running. Your bright red headed sister comes running outta the house her hand entwined with someone else’s. A tall blonde man who wears cowboy boots, washed out blue jeans with a brown belt, a white tshirt that has an American flag stitched to the shoulder sleeve.

“Y/n!” Peggy let’s go of the man to hug you. You hug her back but your eyes never leave the man in front of you.

“Hi Peg.” You reply slightly less happy than before.

“How’s the big city treat’n you.” She asks.

“Mmhm great Peg who’s this?” You ask crossing your arms and leaning against your car. A red catallac

“Oh come on y/n stop that.” She pulled your arms apart.

“Pleausre to meet you, my name is steve rogers your sister has told me mighty fine things about you.” He says. You eye him up and down as he reaches out a hand. You shake his hand a strong grip on him.

“Y/n…steve and I are engaged…were getting married.“ a huge smile embarks on her face you raise your eye brows.

“O-oh..” you say nearly choking on your own breath.

“I meant to call you but with all the wedding preparations and stuff it’s been a lot.” She says. Your eye catches someone else exiting your childhood home.

Your mother seems to take notice to your aversion and sees bucky standing on the porch.

“OH y/n You remember bucky? Dont you?” She says bringing him down the porch he keeps his hands tucked in his pockets. The dark leather cowboy hat sitting low on his head barley covering bright ocean eyes.

“James barnes.” You say

“Doll. Its nice to see you again” he says a small smile follows your face as he remembered the nick name. You walk up to poking his chest above the black T-shirt he wears.

“Last time I saw you, You were half my size and fat.” You giggle.

“Hmm last I saw you, you was mean and would steal liquor outta mr l/ns stash.” He chuckles. You gasp slapping his arm. Only leaving him with a chuckle.

“I gotta run sugar but I hope to see you tonight?” Steve says to your sister.

“Yeah of course!” She smiles smitten as they share a kiss you avert your eyes in disgust.

“Y/n you should join us tonight bucks holding a party at his ranch tonight.” Steve says.

“Mm you know im kinda tired jet lag and all so i-“

“Youre coming missy, now turn off your engine and bring those bags inside. Bucky be a sweetheart and help now would yah?” Your mom says with out hesitation he nods and grabs the suit case next to you.

“Oh becarful that super-..” you stand a bit stunned as he easily picks it up no grunts or hesitation.

“Heavy.” You finish as he turns and walks inside. You turn to your sister.

“W h a t?” You mouth. She giggles.

————

The loudness of music and people yelling and laughing fill your ears. You walk around seeing kids running with cotton candy, and lemonade.

“Y/n!?” Your sister yells your name. You look over seeing her with steve.

Walking over to them you sigh.

“Hey.”

“You made it!” She smiles giving you a quick hug.

“So..what is this?” You ask.

“Buckys dad passed a way last year and he gave him the ranch and bull ring. He fixed the place up a bit and it’s more of a grand reopening.” Peggy smiles.

“Oh I didn’t know that.” You say she nods.

“Y’all having fun?” Buckys voice speaks from behind you a large smile forming on Peggy’s face.

“Absolutely my little sister just got here too!” She says.

“Im 6 months older than you.” You snidley comment.

“Bucky. Why dont you show y/n around hm?” Steve says.

“Uh yeah. You want a tour?” He asks.

“Yeah sure.” You say. Peggy giggles as you walk off with bucky.

He shows you the bullpen, the horses, the dance floor where everyone is, where the food and drinks are, and finally the mechanical bull where you see your sister riding and screaming.

You notice the entire time hes showing you around he’s stopped by girls, being asked to dance and given a few free drinks which he dosnt take.

You both take a seat at an empty table acrcross from each other. Buck sips on a beer.

“So. Why are you back in town?” He asks

“Mama wanted me to visit so here I am. And might I say I did not expect you of all people to keep getting stopped like that.” You chuckle.

“Ah yeah. Apparently if you loose your arm go through trauma and loose weight the girls of the town go crazy for you.” He says

“Dark horse type then?” You say he nods chuckling. Before starting up the conversation again a girl comes over placing her hand on his shoulder she’s red headed in black jeans and cropped white shirt.

“Bucky wanna dance with me the shuffles gonna be on.” She says

“No. No thanks nat.”

“You promised me a dance last year.” She smiles

“Yeah well we didn’t have a party last year did we?” Bucky says annoyed.

“James ple-“ she starts

“Don’t call me that and get lo-“ he begin only for you to cut him off

“James.”

He looks at you.

Nat takes her hand off him he relaxes.

“Wanna show me the barn? I’d um…I’d like to see the pigs.” You say he huffs and nods getting up to full height towering over nat.

“Come on doll.” He say leaving his beer. You get up as well he holds out his hand to you you glance back at the girl her friends now gathering. You take it in yours following him out.

———-

Bucky leans against the barn wall arms crossed making him look larger than before.

“So pigs? We don’t got pigs.” He says you giggle and nod.

“I know. It’s just. You looked awfully uncomfortable with her you know her well?” You ask he nods in reply as you look down kicking around a loose rock.

“We dated for 2 months after my dad passed. She’s a real….Real, peice of work.” He says taking his hat off about to hang it up on the side while running his fingers through his hair.

“Can I see?” You ask seeing his hat holding out ur hands.

“Mm” he replies handing it to you see the scores black leather with a metal peice around the base. You put it on and it dosnt sit quite right as his head is bigger that urs.

“Howdy.” You say lowering your voice tucking your thumb into you pocket to mimic Bucky. He chuckles rolling his eyes.

“The names Bucky doll im the town heart throb and I’m super strong and ignore everyone except y/n.” He chuckles standing up from his relaxed posture.

“I ain’t gonna dance shuffle with no girl becuase I’m a dark horse. Ooh!” You mimic before almost falling but he catches you keeping you up. Chest to chest.

He tilts the hat up to see ur eyes.

“Th-thanks.” You say his blue eyes boring holes into you.

The space between you closes with his lips on yours. Before he can pull away again you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer to your he inhales as his arms pull you in by your waist.

Walking you back. Your back hits the wall of the barn as his hands explore your waist. You hands find his hair pulling gently at the locks leaving a grunt to leave his lips.

“BUCKY!?” You hear someone fainting yelling his name. You can feel the frown on his face before he pulls away.

“BUCK!?” The voice gets closer printing him to pull away. And turn his head to see Steve running into veiw drenched in something.

“SHES GON WILDE NAT IS DESTROYING THE BAR.” He exclaims Bucky immediately leaves you and his hat and rushes out with Steve.

Running into the back nat is holding a crow bar smashing it across the bar table and legs causing beer and glass to spill everywhere. People run out others try to stop her. Slipping in liquid or almost getting hit by the winging crowbar.

“NATASHA! STOP!” Bucky yells at her.

You run in seeing her destroying everything bucks dad had worked for. She picks up a chair throwing it at bottle cabinet making everything fall and crash to the floor.

She turns rage filling her only to se you wearing buckys hat.

She grabs a bottle and chucks it at you you shield your self with your arms which the bottle smashes against casing you to fall.

“THATS ENOUGH!” Bucky says grabbing the swinging crowbar in his left hand the metal against the crowbar ringing when it hits his hand. With his other he grips nat by her hair pulling her to the entry of the bar the crowbar in his o th we hand as she squeals in pain by his grip. The Barr doors open revealing four police men who were called erlier

They immediately take her from Buck in hand cuffs dragging her out screaming he drops the crowbar and hurries to you where your sister and Steve already are.

“F-fuck.” You whine as blood pours from your arm shards of glass sticking out of it.

PART 2

#bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #cowboy #Cowboy Bucky barnes #bucky smut #sebastian stan x you #bucky x female reader

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lostfirefly · 3 months

Text

Life Must Have It's Mysteries (Ch.1)

Nobody asked me, but the thought of sending my beloved couple on a new journey didn't let me go. Welcome to a new adventure! No idea how many chapters there will be :)

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) Masterlist is here.

Description: Catherine returns to Cairo after a short trip to her sister. One evening she had dinner with her childhood friend, her sister, and her boyfriend, who told her about the legend of a blue diamond hidden in the Egyptian pyramids..

Warnings: Fun, fluff.

Words: 2195

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots (if you want to be added on the list, feel free to lmk!)

The title is taken from "Life Must Have It's Mysteries" by Hans Zimmer (OST Inferno).

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Ladies and gentlemen, the Loguetown-Cairo flight has landed at the international airport of Cairo. Thank you for choosing our airlines.

Catherine quickly got up from her seat, picked up her bag and was about to run out the plane, but an old lady in front of her was extremely slow in getting ready to leave.

"Excuse me, mam, maybe I can help you?" Catherine gently tapped the woman's back with her finger.

"No thank you, sweetheart, I'm used to doing everything myself." In a polite but slightly husky voice the woman replied.

"I just really need to go. Let me help you!" She grabbed the woman's bag.

"I said I'll do it myself!"

"Fuck!" Catherine saw that the front row of passengers had already gotten off.

“Alright!” She slung her bag over her shoulder, climbed over the seat that was next to the woman and quickly rushed to the exit. “Sorry-y-y-y!”

Catherine tried to walk through the airport pavilion calmly but she was having trouble doing it. She also tried to hide her happy face and not to push everyone away with her hands.

"God, why are you all walking so slowly!!" She muttered.

The door to the arrival hall opened and after that Catherine didn’t remember anything else. She only remembered how she threw her bag on the floor and rushed towards her beloved clown. Waving her arms happily above her head, squealing “my Buggy Be-e-a-ar”, with a big smile on her face, she jumped on him and hugged him with her legs and arms.

"Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!" She pecked him on the lips several times.

"Cotton candy, you're gonna suffocate me." Buggy wrapped his hands around her waist.

"I don't care!" Smack. Smack. Smack. “I was gone for four whole days!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “I won't go anywhere without you again.” Smack. Smack. Smack.

“I hope you missed it too. Because you're all covered with my lipstick again.” He started laughing.

“Shit!” Catherine wiped her lips with her palm. “It's time for me to get used to this.”

She hugged him tightly, kissed his temple three times and looked into his eyes. "My silly clown..."

"I'm listening, my Cathie-pie."

"Take me home, please."

While they were driving home, Catherine could not calm down. Actively gesturing she told him the latest news, asked how Buggy lived without her, whether he missed her, how his circus was and what was new in Cairo.

"So what happened with your sister?" Buggy asked as he carried Catherine's bag home.

“It turned out that she just had a fight with Ethan. Honestly, I thought there was some kind of tragedy when she called me in tears. But they made up pretty quickly, so my trip to her turned out to be almost pointless.”

Catherine walked up to Buggy and hugged him tightly. "I missed you so much, my Buggy Bear."

“No. I can't. It's still a terrible terrible nickname, my Cathie-pie.” He hugged her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

Catherine heard him barely say, "I missed you too."

"I still don't care. I’m not gonna change it.” Catherine pecked him in his lips and pulled his cheeks. “By the way, we spoke about you too. Everyone was curious about our relationship. But don’t be afraid, I said only good things. And my sister and I also had a girl talk about you.”

“I’m flattered by such a high assessment of my person.” He took and kissed her hand, and led Catherine into the living room.

“Jackass. Let me quickly take a shower and then I’ll cook us something to eat. You’re probably hungry.”

"Actually, I bought us Chinese food and your favorite wine."

“Wow! I’m impressed, Buggy the Clown! You're growing! You’re learning to take care of yourself.” She giggled and pressed her head against his chest.

“Oh, screw you! I lived somehow before you. But I have to admit, you take care of me much better, you know.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “I have no doubt about that. You would probably be dead without me. At least now you've learned how to wash your socks.”

“Little shit.”

“Did I tell you that you are my best and I love you so so much?”

"Nope. Hear it for the first time."

Catherine quickly showered and returned to the living room. Chilled wine and packages of Chinese food were already waiting for her on the table.

“God! It's so great to be back home.” She looked at Buggy. “Why are you smiling?”

"I really missed your ass, but I also really missed your funny pajama pants. Dinosaurs? Seriously?" He pointed at her new pants.

"Oh, shut up! I liked them. By the way, I brought you a gift."

“The gift? For me?"

"Of course! Why are you so surprised? I couldn't leave my Buggy Bear without the gift." She ran to the bedroom and returned with some sheets, a bottle and a box in her hands. "The best whiskey from Loguetown and a box of chocolates for my sweet tooth." She gave him a few pecks on the lips and plopped down on the sofa.

"Wow! Thanks, my cotton candy!” He kissed her cheek. “I've never gotten the present before..”

"What? This is terrible!" She knelt on the couch and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, now you have me, lucky bastard."

“What's that in your hands?" He pointed at the sheets of paper as he opened a bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, this... Yes, it’s nonsense. Or maybe it’s not nonsense. Well, we went to dinner with my sister, Ethan and one of my childhood friends. We met him suddenly.” She glanced at Buggy and noticed how his face changed.

"Friend? Male? Did you go out.. with.. him...?"

"What do you mean? A date? Yes, I did."

"Okay..." Buggy tried to appear as calm as possible.

“Once we went to an ice cream cafe and he also brought me dandelions.”

She run her hand through Buggy's hair.

"Okay..."

"Someone is jealo-o-ous!" She kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm not jealous!"

"Before you run to strangle this poor guy, I can tell you that when he asked me out we were seven years old. So, back to the sheets. My sister and I talked about our fun trip. And while we were talking that friend and Ethan mentioned a myth or rumor.. I don't actually know.. about some kind of treasure, hidden somewhere in the Egyptian pyramids. I was interested in this and the next day I went to my old job in the library and rummaged a little in the archives. I made copies but there is no direct evidence in them that anything exists at all. And.. Why are you smiling again, clown? "

“I just can’t believe it. My little Cathie-pie is rummaging through the archives and looking for information about treasures. You really liked our previous adventure, right? Admit it!”

"Go fuck yourself, asshole. I'm not telling you anything else." Catherine took the wine and turned away.

"Come on! Come here, baby. Tell me more." Buggy put his arm around her shoulders and cuddled closer.

"I won't, you're mocking me."

"I'm not mocking you. I find it very sexy, by the way.” He kissed her temple.

“I hate you. So.. I studied the copies all the way on the plane, but I can’t definitely confirm whether there’s something in these places or not.” She fiddled with the sheets of paper in her hands and put them aside on the couch. "I think maybe I'll go to the local library tomorrow. Just for fun."

"You know, I know another way to have fun and you don't have to wait until tomorrow!" Buggy stood up from the couch, grabbed Catherine in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?! Let me go!!” She slapped his hands.

“Baby, I’m going to do what I haven’t done with you for four whole days. I hope you survive until the morning.” He laughed like a maniac.

"Damn you and your chop chop abilities!"

⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭

"You're going to make me lose the ability to walk someday, fucking clown." Catherine woke up in the morning and put her head on his chest. She took one of the strands of his hair and began to twirl it around her finger. “Do me a favor, send your hand for your t-shirt, because I can't get out from under the blanket naked."

"Who told you that? I'll be glad to see you like this." Buggy began to move his hands down to her buttocks.

"Go to hell, honestly! First, I have manners! Second, stop grabbing my ass, Buggy!” Catherine looked at her hands and shoulders. “Fuck, I need to take a shower. Because someone left red lipstick marks all over my body and even... God, I can’t even talk about it. You've completely ruined me.”

“You didn’t complain throughout the night, cotton candy. And especially those three times when my tongue was between your..” Buggy ran his hand in circles on her back.

“Ts!” She covered his mouth with her hand and glanced at him with squinted eyes.

“That was re-e-a-ally good, right?” He muttered into her palm and winked.

“I hate you!”

Catherine barely fought off Buggy, who seemed to want to give her another hot round, grabbed his t-shirt and ran into the bathroom.

After breakfast she changed into jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her crossbody bag, accompanied Buggy to the circus, kissed him on his lips and went to the library.

Catherine sat in the library for half a day, sorting through old dusty books and papers. She asked the library employee what other materials she could read. The gray-haired woman sincerely did not understand why Catherine was interested in this story. She mentioned that she had heard something, but she assured her that it was just a myth that was invented for fools who were simply thirsty for adventure.

"Why do you need this, dear girl?" The woman asked her while Catherine was copying some notes. "You don't look like the kind of person who leaves everything behind to go somewhere far away to find something."

Catherine didn't know how not to laugh, remembering how she once left everything behind to go in search of her sister and how that search ended.

"I just love reading books. Myths, legends. All this is terribly fascinating." Catherine shrugged and smiled.

“You should get married, not read books!” The woman rasped in her voice.

"Thanks for your advice, I'll definitely use it!"

Catherine put the papers in her bag and went home. On the way, she stopped at a couple of bakeries, muttering under her breath that "it will be better if Buggy fill his mouth with donuts and fucking Cinnabons. Otherwise I'm done."

She returned home when no one was there yet. Catherine was drinking coffee when she heard the keys jingle in the keyhole.

She jumped up and ran to the front door.

"Finally, you're home! I went to the library and..."

Buggy shut Catherine up with a kiss. "First of all, hi!"

"Hi!" She kissed him on the nose and dragged him into the living room. "So, I went to the library..."

"Baby, give it back."

Catherine heard Buggy's voice behind her.

"Give.. what?" She looked at him blankly.

He pointed his finger at her hand. Catherine looked down and started laughing. She held his hand in hers.

"Damn, sorry! Take it."

“Thank God you didn’t pull me for something else.” He laughed loudly and pointed at his pants.

"Oh my god! You're disgusting!"

Catherine led Buggy into the living room and quickly ran to the kitchen to grab whiskey, dinner and donuts.

“Anyway, I dug through the papers at the library here and found out that all this history I've been told about and written about in some of the books I looked at today lead back to the story of some blue diamond." She walked from side to side, actively gesticulating.

Buggy moved his head after Catherine.

“It doesn’t give you superpowers, of course. But we can get good money for it. But there’s no map. Everywhere it’s indicated that it’s somewhere in a pyramid. But there are a thousand pyramids in Egypt. It would take us our whole lives to double-check them all." She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs.

“Theoretically, I know one person who can tell us the way. Or maybe even knows where we can get the map.” Buggy said, taking a sip of his whiskey and leaning back on the couch.

“Is this your gray-haired man from the desert?” She mumbled, placing her hands on her leg and her chin on her palms. "Wait. What do you mean “tell”? And what do you mean “us”?" She bulged her eyes at him.

"Well, let's try!" Buggy shrugged.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Why not?” He leaned towards Catherine while sitting on the couch.

"Just you and me?" Catherine pointed at them both.

"Just you and me."

"This means…?"

"This means, baby, that we are going to look for the blue diamond!"

26 notes · View notes

eggcompany · 2 months

Text

Kids who were never children

Just a cute short fic were Dean and Cas get turned into 5-6 year olds and Sam and Bobby have to take care of them.

“Fuck!” Sam shouted as he scooped up the two piles of clothes, grabbing both little boys and as much of their clothes. The witch was gone in a spit of smoke, sticky substance absorbed into their skin, shrinking them down and aging them down.

-----

“They’re… 4?” Bobby asked as he watched the two little boys sleeping in the backseat floor of the impala. They were small… wobbly on their feet. All cozied up under Cas’s trench coat covered up by shirts that could fit three of them in each.

“Probably. Cas can’t talk and Dean… was he like this when he was actually this young?” Sam asked, wiping a hand over his face as he leaned against the car. Bobby was kinda… happy looking down at little Dean Winchester. He remembered why Dean was that little. Before he realized what it meant that they couldn’t go home… or that his mother was gone. When he was still giggly and sweet and like carnivals and cotton candy.

“Well… he’s got to be 4 or 5… he was like this right when your father started after yellow eyes.” Bobby supplied and started trying to think of what happened or what they were gonna wear or anything else. Sam blew out a breath… he was a big brother now… shit.

----

“Hey Dean, how old are you?” Bobby asked as he finished taking Dean's temperature. Cas was useless, health wise, he was still an angel. The boy kicked his legs where they dangled off the edge of the box he was sitting on, some old wooden box of ammo that Bobby had been going through.

“Umm, I dunno. I can’t really count. You’re like a million years old like a like a dinosaur. And Sammy’s like… twelve, I think.” Dean said looking at Sam, he knew Sam but… didn’t know how.

“Why are you saying I’m old? That’s not very nice.” Bobby said and gave Dean a stern look which caused the boy to look shocked and confused.

“But… but you have grey hair I thought grey meant you’re old. I’m sorry.” Dean said and started to cry. Bottom lip starting to tremble, big green eyes welling up with crystal tears, chest starting to jump with quickened breath.

Bobby shushed him and patted his back.

“I understand that’s okay, that’s alright. I am old aren’t I Sam?” Bobby said and kept a steady patting on the boy’s back. Sam chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah totally, super old.” Sam said which made Bobby roll his eyes but Dean nodded.

“So it’s okay?” He asked and looked at the two grown ups. They nodded.

They have got to find a cure.

------

Castiel was sitting on the floor, feet covered by way too big socks, an old tattered pillowcase caught in his hand. He’d found the thing somewhere, it was white and stained with gold embroidery on the edges. He always had it towed behind him. Bobby had said it was probably a hex bag or a motel’s when bags got lost. Castiel seemed to never wanna let go of it, always pressing it to his cheek or rubbing it lightly over his eyes. It was probably more than tears and snot than fabric, Cas was always crying. Always feeling too much all at once, frustrated and confused.

He was crying, thumb shoved in his mouth. Eyes welled up and dripping.

“Cas? What’s wrong man?” Sam asked and looked down at the kid. He was pretty cute. Eyes huge and glittery all pudgy and soft and fluffy. He was sitting with his legs straight out in front of him, back straight like a board, shirt hanging off him where it was safety pinned at the neck to keep it on him.

Sam was checking in on him, seeing if he had to go potty since Dean had already wet his… shirt? Whatever, Dean made a mess and Cas hadn’t been to the bathroom in over a day.

Castiel just mumbled and made uppy hands at Sam who sighed and bent down to pick him up on his hip.

“Sah…ah” the little raven haired boy tried and shoved his face in Sam’s shoulder.

He didn’t talk. Couldn’t.

Sam guessed it was because angels just knew how to talk and were never really babies, never had to learn. Dean talked fine but Cas just… babbled on like he knew he could make sound but didn’t know how to make words. He often just repeated sounds, bu bu bu, tuh tuh tuh, chuchuchu. He made sounds that were almost words, like he knew a word but couldn’t shape it.

“Yeah yeah babble babble. Aren’t you like a million years old? Are angels ever babies?” Sam asked and rubbed the kids back. Castiel sniffed and his breathing slowed down as he calmed down.

“Whoo-oo huh bububbubub” the kid said and wiped his face back and forth across Sam’s shirt getting tears and snot all over it. But that was the state of most of their clothes. Bobby usually had a sleepy Castiel over his shoulder and Sam often had to rock the kid to calm him down.

“That one I got. Dean’s out getting clothes with Bobby. Can you say Dean? Huh? Say Dean, Dee-ean” Sam said. Bububub or anything with bub in it was usually referring to Dean and bou or anything ‘ou’ was usually Sam or Bobby.

“Bububbub” he mumbled again and pulled at Sam’s shirt. He just toyed with it, a frustrated look starting to carve itself onto his chunky face.

“Alright, how about bubba? Huh say bubba?” Sam tried and walked to the kitchen. Honey on a spoon has been the only thing to calm the baby down. Honey or having all the TV’s and radios playing static loudly.

“Bub bub bubbubbubu bubba” Cas babbled and sat on the counter cross legged. He was a small kid, a few inches short than Dean and at least five pounds lighter. Probably clocking in at 36lbs and 41 inches tall. Dean was a bit bigger, even as a kiddo.

“Good job. No more crying, we'll see Dean in a few.” Sam said and handed the kid a little spoon with honey on it. He carried the kid back to the living room and stuck him in front of the TV and turned on a kids show, something about letters and sounds. He dug into some books trying to find anything that didn’t just say ‘wait it out’ .

-----

“Sammyyyyyyy, we’re hooooooome” Dean yelled as he pulled his little backpack behind him as it was filled with clothes and stuff. Bobby had called around a bit and had scavaged up enough clothes. And a few toys. And had gone and bought a few things. Dean had picked out most of it, making sure he got stuff that would make him look handsome and that would make Cas look ‘purdy’.

Sam walked through and patted Dean’s back as he hugged his legs. It was weird to be the oldest now. Weird to see Dean so giggily and light, there was still so much joy twinkling behind his eyes.

“Hey buddy” Sam said and watched his brother struggle to pull the heavy bag across the floor, refusing to ask for help like always.

“We got clothes and stuff and stuff for Cassy and and we got him a dolly. Well I found a teddy bear with clothes on it but Cas’ll like the dolly with the bear's clothes and then I can have the teddy bear.” Dean explained and pulled the bag to the library where Cas was usually sitting on the back of the couch watching.

Perching really. Sitting cross legged on the back of the couch. The cushion had started to sag from where he’d climb up and sit, look out the window.

“Cassy Cassy come here, I got clothes that’ll fit.” Dean said. He’d already changed into a pair of jeans and a little brown hoodie and a pair of dinosaur printed sneakers.

He started pulling out clothes, mostly jeans and flannel and hoodies and a few pairs of overalls and some nice button ups. He pulled out a few packs of socks and t-shirts and two packs of underwear.

He had made Bobby buy a pack of underwear for each of them, they couldn’t share. Dean had gotten a pack of soft briefs that had stripes on them, and Cas a pack of boxers with mountains and mooses and geese on them cause Cas liked animals.

Cas turned and looked at him, pillow case stuffed in his mouth a bit and slobbery. He looked interested, sliding down the cushion to sit on the actual seat.

“Yeah, here I’ll help, I’ll help Cassy put them on.” Dean said and looked at the grown ups who nodded and went to put away the snacks that Bobby had thought to get. Mostly cookies and snacks and juice boxes.

-----

“Ah, nuh” Cas yelled out and then there was a thud. Sam rushed into the library and Cas was dressed but Dean was pushed back onto his butt on the floor.

Cas had on a pair of black jeans that were too big, a white t-shirt and a soft tan zip up jacket. But there was a sock on the floor in front of him and one in Dean’s hand. Cas was crying, sniffling, hands searching for his pillowcase that was set to the side.

Sam was about to come in and ask if they were okay but Dean was up hugging Cas.

“It’s okay, Cassy, you don’t gotta wear socks. But you should ask papa to roll up your pants cause you’ll fall down.” Dean said and Cas nodded and Dean found a towel to wipe at Cas’s face. It was actually one of Sam’s flannels but he didn’t care, he just wanted Cassy to stop crying.

“I got you something too here move this stuff…” Dean said excitedly and dug out the rest of the clothes, throwing them onto the chair and sat down on the floor which Cas mirrored. There was a decent pile of clothes ranging from only a little big to would fit them in a decade.

Cas cocked his head to the side looking interested in what Dean was doing. The dirty blonde boy was digging in the big backpack and pulled out different toys.

“I got some cars and papa got us these cause they look super duper fun see you’ll like them” Dean said and pulled out the different cars and such and the box of magnet tiles which Cas took and turned over a few times before setting them to the side and looking back at Dean. Though he didn’t seem it, he was very excited to do whatever a magnet tile was.

“And I got this bear, see he’s for me, I’m gonna name him Barney.” Dean explained and handed the bear over for Cas to hug once and hand it back to Dean. It was for him, though it was a very nice bear, fluffy and cozy and looked like the bear from TV from the blue house.

“And I got you… this! It’s a dolly and it looks like me so you don’t gotta be lonely.” Dean explained and pulled out the doll. It had had its hair chopped off so it was short and brown and was a simple cabbage patch doll wearing a little flannel and a pair of jeans.

Cas looks at with wide eyes and takes it into his hands and holds it to his chest, bringing his knees up to cage it in, close to his chest, squeezing it tight.

“Lubbu lu lub nov… nov eh” Cas tried to say like he knew what he wanted to come out of his mouth but didn’t know how to make it. He cried and held the doll close to his chest, not letting go at all. His eyes squeezed tight and hugged it, he felt… a lot. Good a lot.

“Yay! I knew you’d like it and and now we can wash your binky cause it’s all slobbery. And papa got us sleeping bags since you keep falling outta bed. So we can have like a sleep over like a real one.” Dean explained and set up his cars on the edge of the desk. He sat the bear up against the couch.

They’d been sleeping in the panic room, sharing the cot while Sam or Bobby slept in a chair that they had dragged down there. However Cas rolled and moved around a lot in his sleep and often fell off the cot and hurt himself. Plus Dean had nightmares a lot and sometimes he hit Castiel and then they both cried and then they had to be cuddled back to sleep.

Plus Bobby had bought them really cool sleeping bags that had space and cars on them well a space one for Cas since he usually loved space stuff. And Dean got the car one so they could sleep on the floor and not get too cold and Bobby said they’d make a blanket on the floor too.

Just like a sleepover like the one on TV with Big Bird! Dean loved Big Bird.

“Beb? Beh bah?” Cas asked, looking at Dean confused. He didn’t know about… any of that. Sleeping was for bed under the blankies. Not in a bag.

“Uh sleeping bag. It’s like a blanket that zippers up and and they’re super cool. You'll love it, it's like getting hugged allllll night!” Dean explained and Cas smiled; he liked being hugged.

-------

It was time for them to get cleaned. Sam agreed to get Dean in the upstairs bathroom and Bobby would clean Cas in the downstairs bathroom. They had been putting it off for three days now. They just kept saying if they broke the curse, if they could make them grown. So far they’d only read that they had to wait it out and that it could last a few days or… well they would grow up again eventually. But they wouldn’t stop looking because they couldn’t hunt without them. And Sesame Street was getting old .

Sam made sure the water was warm and that there were towels and such waiting on Dean, who had his arms crossed still dressed at the door.

“You can’t make me. I don’t wanna.” He said and Sam stood over the little boy. Dean was stubborn, somethings never change. He had a tough look on his face, staring right back into Sam’s eyes.

Sam sighed, tired, and shook his head. He picked the kid up by the armpits, throwing him under his arm and pulling off his socks and shoes.

“No! No Sammy, I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna bath no no no!” He said and kicked around and Sam held him over the tub still in his clothes. Sam held onto him tightly, not wanting to drop him or anything but also done with Dean. He was not cut out for this and Dean was just so… ugh frustrating.

“You either get in the nice warm tub and let me get you washed or we can stand in the yard and get hosed down in the cold.” Sam said and Dean looked scared. Sam was looking… scary like he was mad and and Dean hated being cold. He hated being cold.

“No no I’m sorry I hate cold I don’t wanna be cold no no please I’m sorry” Dean started to beg as he felt like he couldn’t breath, like he wanted to run away. He started trying to wiggle away again but Sam put him back on the floor, holding his shoulders.

“Alright. Alright. Come on then, no clothes in the tub.” Sam said and Dean started to try and pull his shirt off.

“I’m sorry Sammy, I don't wanna cold bath.” Dean apologized and Sam helped him untie the shoelace that was tied around her waist to keep his jeans up.

“It’s okay. And you’re not the only one getting a bath Bobby’s giving Cas one too. You’re alright.” Sam reassured him and put Dean in the tub and took his clothes to throw in the laundry bin.

He didn’t look to see the boy was starting to hyperventilate, terrified of being in the tub alone. Dean hated baths, hated being in water, hated the cold feeling of the actual tub, he felt scared.

Dean was not alright, he kept shoving and kicking and got water all over the floor and got soap in his mouth and it was a disaster.

When they finally got done, Sam was soaked, and Dean had nearly passed out from fear and stress. Sam gave up trying to get him dressed or anything else, ending up wrapping up in a big towel and put him on Bobby’s bed.

Sam wondered how Bobby was doing, had to be better than him. Had to get better than getting soaked and getting half the bath water on the floor.

Cas was doing better. Quietly had followed Bobby to the bathroom, little hand holding onto his finger. Cas got lost sometimes even in the house, he’d forget where he was and he’d end up standing in a corner and wait.

He was a very polite and good kid.

However

He did get Bobby soaked entirely.

“Alright buddy in the tub. You stink like a wet dog.” Bobby said as he dug around to find some wash clothes. Cas was standing beside the tub naked when he turned back around. Clothes messily folded in a pile next to him.

He didn’t have any… junk . Weird but easy to clean, Bobby thought. Angels are freaks but meh could be worse.

“Alright up and over” Bobby said and lifted the angel up and put him in the tub. The boy sat down and started playing with the bubbles that were floating across the top. He liked bubbles. He didn’t like eating them though when he put some in his mouth and tasted soap. He made a face and decided that they were better on his hands than in his mouth. Like the markers were.

Bobby got to work running a cloth over him, reapplying the soap every so often from his toes up to his dark hair. Cas sat still, letting himself be moved around as Bobby needed. He just made shapes in the bubbles and watched them drip off his fingers when he raised his hands up out of the water.

“Alright head back, gotta rinse out your hair.” Bobby said and pulled the boy's head back, his big blue eyes staring widely into his own. Booby brought a cup up full of water, one hand ready to scrub the suds away.

“Quit starin’ at me ya idg- shit!” Bobby said but was soon thrown over onto his butt. He was slapped in the face by something… soaked and fluffy.

He looked up at the… sight before him.

Cas was still playing with the bubbles, holding some in his hands. Behind him however were a pair of small pitch black wings waving around in the water flicking and dunking into the water like they had a mind of their own.

“What the… Cas? Your wings are out…” Bobby said as he knelt back up to the tub, amazed at the very… bird like wings that were soaking themselves in the water, tops still dry.

Cas looked over at him and shrugged.

“Dir’ee” he said and laid back so his wings were all underwater, he shook them all around under the water and then sat up making uppy hands. Cas felt very relieved being clean but now he was done.

Bobby stared at him as he lifted the kid, who didn’t seem to weigh any more than when he was put in the bath, and set him back on the floor. He stared at Cas as his wings soaked the towel covered floor under him.

“We’re gonna have to blow dry you, son. You’ll flood the house at this rate.” Bobby said and grabbed three towels from the rack. He patted the boy dry with one, putting it under the flooding wings when he was done, wrapped one around him under his wings, and finally carefully trapped the wings to the boy’s back and wrapped a towel around them. Cas held his towels up, he liked the feeling of the towel tight on his wings.

“Alright?” Bobby asked and Cas just yawned. Baths were a lot of work. Or maybe it wasn’t the bath but the manifestation of his wings that made him suddenly feel so sleepy.

“Are ya tired? I think these things might be using up all your energy.” Bobby said and gave the joint of the wings and light smack. Cas nodded and rubbed at his eyes, wobbly on his legs.

“To bed then” Bobby announced,picking Cas up to his hip, and grabbed the last dry towel from the rack on his way out. Cas nodded and threw his arms over Bobby's shoulders and shut his eyes.

After a short guidance by Sam, Cas was laying next to Dean, an old quilt being thrown over them. Cas being placed on top of a towel for extra measure.

“This is gonna suck until they grow up. I read that it can take years .” Sam groaned as he cleaned up the floor for Bobby who buttoned up a dry shirt. Bobby sighed. It would be great to learn about angel wings though, he had to admit. Flying toddler…. Ugh.

They went back to reading until the boys woke up. However luck smiled on them.

“ Cas get your junkless junk off of me! It’s frickin’ weird man!” Dean yelled as he shoved the naked man away from him on the bed. Sam was first to open the door and see them both holding towels around their waists, grown. Castiel was barebacked again though and Dean was looking frustrated.

“Angels man, friggin weirdos.” Dean said and pushed past Sam to say hi to Bobby and then go to find his bag and his pants.

Cas was standing in the room, blank expression pasted on his face.

“Excuse me” He said and soon his body was covered again as it usually was. Sam came up and patted his back.

“Good to have you back man, gotta say you’re a pretty cute kid.” He said and Cas looked at him and then down at himself.

“I’m far more helpful in this form. I… didn’t dislike being a child though. Angels are created fully formed, we do not really experience… complete helplessness that is childhood. It was somewhat enjoyable.” He stated and soon Bobby was interrogating him about his wings and such.

Dean had disappeared into the bathroom though, bag gone. Dean pulled his clothes on and stood at the sink.

Fuck.

Fuck .

He looked up at himself. It was nice to be tall and not feel scared all the time but god … it felt good. Cuddling with Cas at night and being cuddled and loved on and getting to experience his emotions in full. He felt… so much lighter than he had before.

Huh… he actually kinda felt…. Happy. He looked back up at himself. The teddy bear would be shoved under the backseat and never mentioned again but it was… it was coming.

#fanfic #egg_company #dean winchester #castiel novak #castiel supernatural #castiel #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural #sam winchester #bobby singer #destiel #dean and cas

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