#well. except chomps.

[walking-fnaf-encyclopedia]

@hearts4ggy come get ur plushtrap content

(id copy paste stuff but HONESTLY the doc will prolly be easier to keep track of if you wanna look back at it lol.)

#i was gonna draw time traveler cass last night and instead intently took notes on chomps #unironically kinda love the fucked up guy #evil bastard #and also. one of the less horrifying stories lol. #nobody dies!!! #well. except chomps. #it got hit by a train #anyways enjoyyyy #x #cass #ve helped lol

[roolette]

CAN YOU DO THE BITE THING WITH BI-HAN, RAIDEN, AND LIU KANG?

YOU KNOW I CAN

MK1 Men With a S/O Who Bites pt. 2

Bi-Han

He is… so confused at first. Honestly, still is confused. Has grown to understand that you bite, and this is simply the way of things

However, you have to do it in private. He has a reputation, after all.

Sometimes you’re holding him, head against his chest, and your mouth just. Wanders. To his arm. Chomp

He’s used to it by now, and finds it endearing, but he won’t admit it. You can tell, though, by the way his mouth turns up ever so slightly

His neck is sensitive so he doesn’t mind biting THAT much

Don’t do it in public, don’t leave a mark, and you are good

Raiden

Also confused, but more in the sense of, did he do something? Why are you biting him? Are you mad at him?

You reassure him that there’s no anger, he’s just too cute

Shoot, now he’s blushing. You can bite him as much as you want so long as you keep calling him cute

He will bite you back. It is now a competition. He intends to win

Will randomly wrap you into a hug from behind, and when you least expect it… he bites

Taste of your own medicine

Liu Kang

This is…. Well, this is wildly unprofessional. He doesn’t like it. At all. Trust me. But he likes you so he supposes he’ll let it slide occasionally

Except, he’s purposely wearing clothing that shows off his arms now. Like he’s asking you to bite

So you do. And he rolls his eyes and kisses the top of your head, telling you how strange it is

And yet… he doesn’t stop it

Deep down, he finds it endearing. But he’ll never tell you that

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat imagine #mk imagine #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han #raiden x reader #raiden #liu kang x reader #liu kang

[tarjapearce]

A Wacky Spider

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderPersonfem!Reader

WARNINGS: Sexual language, sexual depictions of genitals, research about spiders, wacky behaviors of spiders, implicit heavy breeding kink, established relationships, wacky request.

Requested Here

P. d. Learned a lot of shite of spiders that might be useful for later 🤭♥️. Hope you like or at least make sense of this (No proofread at all) And yes, The Evarcha is a real spider 🫶🏻.

If there was something Miguel surely understood is that some Spider people under his command were a bit more spider than they actually let on. Some radioactive spiders were so different that had their host acting partially like them.

The biggest example? You. You had been bitten by an Evarcha Culicivora, aka. The Vampire spider. A jumping spider that fed of blood fattened mosquitos, a natural pest control. He'd sometimes would catch you eating steaks in the cafeteria with enough blood cells, that for some reason made you smell so damn sweet afterwards.

His arachnid DNA reacted so well to it. His talons were out whenever you approached him, smelling like heaven personified, the urge to be around you just increased. He couldn't help it. But other spiders rather to stay away from you as their spider senses tingled too often.

Oddly enough he had been discovering things about yourself that secretly unleashed a whole new level of fascination for you. Like your aphrodisiac venom.

You had chomped Miguel by accident as he was in a sparring session with you, much to yours and his dismay, he ended up having a raging and borderline painful boner. Of course you'd help him in the only way you knew, took one stroke of his cock to convince him.

Riding him eventually had turned in one of your favorite things to do. You loved when he hissed both in pain and pleasure as your walls tightened around him while you had him under the spell of your sweet and delicious smell.

It was addicting to have him as your personal fucktoy, just as he was addicted to you. You had been the only spider that truly rivaled his stamina, meaning you could get at it for hours if it was a slow day.

-----

Even though Miguel was into you, he was still a scientist at heart. He didn't select random spiders to join in his task force, no, he selected those that had loyalty, skills and brains.

You were more of an action sort of Spider, but always offered a different approach and input to his issues when needed. The first time you had arrived at the Lobby was uneventful, nothing too out of the ordinary except for different spiders, from around the world, periods of times, even some random things you didn't think possible like a Spider-Rex, A Spider-cat, and of course a horse.

It was nice, to find your kind of gang.

The first thing Miguel had noticed from you besides your skills and the little fangs under your pouty lips, was your smell. Something that triggered a mating-like behavior on his spider side.

He would spend hours subtly watching you, trying to find what triggered that scent on you. And much to his surprise, it was blood. He'd noticed that after eating a particular juicy steak, you'd smell like if cotton candy was turned into a perfume and you were doused in it. One would think it was overwhelming, it was to some other spiders, but to Miguel, it was perfect.

Then, he discovered about your aphrodisiac venom. And to this day you still felt embarrassed at how things displayed. A wannabe knock off Vulture had infiltrated in your dimension, and had caused a ruckus. Despite the man looking ridiculous, his grip was steely and out of despair you had bit him. Hard.

Miguel and the other people couldn't believe what they were seeing. The man panted as his groin started to grow painfully tight in his pants, lust splattered all over his face and a needy voice that far from insulting, was charmingly pathetic for the way he begged for help.

"Ew..." Jessica mumbled

"What the actual fuck" Peter followed

Miguel just watched both curious and disgusted at the man's reaction. But experiencing it himself was just something else, he felt primal, needy, low key possessive and oh so ready to give your womb it's almost daily dose of him.

But he had been acting different, almost bummed out.

"Hey, Miggy"  He groaned at the nickname, and let you sit on his lap.

"Something troubles you?"

"You, actually."

"Me? How come?"

"Results are different each time, they don't give me exact information. I need exact data."

"Hm... Are you worried about something in specific?"

"Yes. By this point, considering your menstrual cycle, and the many times we have fucked, you should be pregnant by now. But you aren't."

"Wait... hold up, you been trying to breed me?"

"Hard to not when you're always smelling like fucking candy and letting me cum inside, bonita. You doing it on purpose?"

You laughed and shook your head

"Not really. I just love the cafeteria's steak. But seeing you so set for it, makes me-"

"Sick?" He groaned in disapproval of himself, "I know it's fucked up, I should've-."

"Don't worry, maybe we can find a way to make the breeding effective?"

He blinked at you for a second.

"Are you really...?"

You shrugged and giggled

"I mean, by the amount of sex we have been having being preggers would just be a matter of time. You though I wouldn't notice?"

He rubbed his face with a groan.

"Right."

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are, O'Hara." You'd smile and stood up.

"Wanna run more tests and find out why I'm not bred yet?"

He'd chuckle with a nod.

-----

He'd take a blood sample, analyze data, but nothing out of the normal showed. Then he grabbed a little ultrasound machine.

"Mind to stay still?"

"Im ticklish."

"Quédate quieta, solo un ratito" (Stay still, just a moment)

His hand stopped abruptly as his breath was caught in his throat.

The imagery of your womb showed one thing. There wasn't the typical outline of a baby, instead, there was a little cocoon like texture surrounding the baby.

"Is that..."

"A baby..."

"Dios mío.... wait" He zoomed kn the picture, "For all we know it could be more than one"

The eagerness in his voice didn't go unnoticed by you

"Congratulations, daddy"

He just smirked. He'd take you later to the spider doctor.

Spiders indeed were wacky beings.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #t writes✨ #spiderman 2099 x reader

[ghostboneswrites2]

Maybe, Possibly, One Day.

Summary: All the years that went by before Daryl realized you loved him.

Pairing: Reader!Greene x Daryl Dixon

Era: Starts at the Greene Farm, ends at the Commonwealth

Genre: survival, comfort, falling in love

Word count: roughly 2800

Warnings: TWD typical violence, character death, grief

        The first time he saw you, you were tending his wounds. His eyelids had barely parted, so little that you couldn’t tell he was awake. The gunshot barely missed him, just grazing over the side of his head. You couldn’t help but think about the scar it would leave. You felt bad for him, always searching tirelessly for that lady’s little girl and getting hurt in the process. 

        The bullet graze was oddly the least of his worries, though. The bolt that pierced through his abdomen may not have caused too much internal bleeding, but it was already nasty and oozing with pus. Your daddy made comments about going through the antibiotics so fast, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t bare to see another person die, not after so many had gone.

        Through the slivers of his nearly shut eyes, he followed you around the bed. He watched you check his bandages, clean his wounds, rewrap him carefully. He took note of your gentleness. Hershel, Patricia, Beth, Maggie — they all had careful hands. You, however, were the most gentle and tender person he’d ever been touched by. You were so afraid of hurting him, even when you thought he was out cold. He couldn’t help but admire your softness, even if it meant you might not be cut out for the world.

        He’d take notice of you after that. He never really did before, honestly. You were just one of the farmer’s daughters he’d met in passing, nothing more. After he was back on his feet, though, you’d catch his eye often. You were young. Younger than Maggie, older than Beth. He knew he couldn’t look at you that way. You know, the way that encouraged lingering gazes and any excuse to brush a finger against yours. No, he instead opted to look at you as someone to protect.

        He told himself if things went bad, if the farm went up in flames and the dead were chomping their jaws at every turn, he’d look for you. He’d make sure you made it out of there, because you deserved that. And so, he did. When the farm was burning to ash, when walkers plagued the land and took out so many of your people, he looked for you. He found you, after Carol was already on the back of his bike. 

        He would have thought you were a walker had he not recognized your frame from behind. You were dragging your feet slowly, traumatized and exhausted from the events of that night. He slowed his motorcycle beside you and called to you. “Get on.” 

        There wasn’t exactly much room, and you found yourself hugging tight around Carol to prevent you from slipping off the back. Carol had to hold Daryl tighter to avoid slipping off with you. And there he was, chauffeuring two women he’d allowed himself to care for to safety, or some semblance of such, at least. 

        That night was a blur. You lost a lot. Everything, really, except the remainder of your family and your newfound friends. 

        The winter on the road wasn’t much easier. You had all learned to operate as a team, tactical and careful. Silence became your best friend. 

        Sometimes you’d find yourself staring at people, reading them, appreciating them for who they were. Daryl wasn’t exempt from this habit. You’d always been an observer, reading people well. You could tell he was a tad softer to you and Carol than the others. Sometimes he’d make sure you got the canned food you liked if he could save it for you. Sometimes he’d just give you that knowing look and remind you that he understood, that you weren’t alone. 

        He wasn’t chatty, not even when the prison became home. Still, he made time for Carol and you sometimes. He’d bring back a little trinket for you or a flower for Carol. They were tokens of his appreciation to you both, two soft souls who reminded him he could be soft too.

        When the prison fell, when he lost Beth, he had given up hope. After the Claimers, when he found Rick again, he reasoned it couldn’t be that bad. Things could finally look up for him and his family, maybe, one day.

        Terminus seemed too good to be true, because it was. The one good thing, he was reunited with most of his family, and especially you. When he saw you in that train car, when he heard your voice, he couldn’t stop himself from embracing you. It wasn’t a long intimate hug, but it was tight and secure and you felt something when he did it. That was the beginning of something, but neither of you knew it yet.

        After Beth died, morale was at an all time low. Days blended together without food or water. You barely had the strength to keep walking. Daryl was a shell of himself after the events at Grady. You took notice but you didn’t pry. You did, however, sneak off after him once. It was one of many times he’d break away from the group and meet them back on the road. You had begun to think he had the right idea. It was exhausting carrying on with everyone in the street, trying to keep your mind set on survival instead of the image of your little sisters brains splattering all over you. 

        You followed him quietly, albeit not quiet enough to go unnoticed. You didn’t have the skill he had when it came to stepping perfectly on the crunchy leaves to not make a sound. It peeved him a little, truth be told. He went out to think of Beth, to cry, to let himself feel something finally. When he found a suitable spot to sit, he did, with no regard for your presence. You sat too, against a tree just a few feet away from him. 

        You enjoyed the silence of the forest. The sounds of nature and critters around you was second nature at that point. You didn’t even register it. You did, however, notice the two shoelaces tied around Daryl’s pants at the bottom. They were different colors, dirty and worn, and the familiarity brought a constricting feeling to your chest and throat. 

        “Are those hers?” You croaked, barely above a whisper. He glanced down at them, and looked over to you. His eyes were glossy and sad. He nodded and pressed his lips together tight, tears aching to burst through the damn of numbness he’d confined them behind. You sniffled and let out a quiet sob. The weight of your pain was too much for his hardened shell to bare. It cracked under the pressure, knowing he failed you, knowing he failed Beth, knowing she was gone and she wouldn’t have been had they not separated. It was just another tragedy to bare the burden of, just another notch on his belt. He broke. He cried. So did you. 

        You were the first to pull yourself together. When you stood and walked over to him, he looked up at you. It was a pleading, helpless look. Maybe it was forgiveness or comfort or something in between that he was begging you for. You didn’t know. But you crouched down beside him and curled up right there on the forest floor, laying your head in his lap and sharing your grief with him. It was like you gave him some of your own sadness and took a little of his in return. It was a lot to shoulder, so you’d do it together. 

        He flattened his legs as his knees were originally up toward his chest. Your head fit perfectly on his thigh. It was comfortable. You didn’t look at him. Your eyes were far away and spaced out. He watched you, though. He took in all of you. The imperfections on your soft skin, the layer of sweat that seemed to permanently coat your face and enhance your radiance. He saw the way your hair stuck down to your clammy flesh, the flush of redness from heat and sunlight. He watched your breathe and familiarized himself with the pace of your breaths. He admired you, much like he always had, but somehow it was deeper than before. 

        He found himself placing a hand on your side, and the other found the top of your head. He didn’t rub you in delicate circles or anything too affectionate. Just touching you felt like such new territory, but he was there. The weight of his still hands on your body was enough. You felt as whole as you could feel given the circumstances. 

        “C’mon.” He’d whisper after maybe fifteen minutes. “Can’t let ‘em get too far ahead.” 

        You stood and offered him a hand, which he only took to be polite. He didn’t use you to hoist himself to his feet, he used his own strength. 

        At Alexandria, when you all slept on the floor of the living room, he was the last to shut down for the night. He picked a spot close to you. Close enough to hear your breathing, but not close enough to draw attention or touch you. 

        He searched for you when the wolves attacked. He looked for you when he came back from recruiting with Aaron to let you know he was back home and safe. He’d find you when you were missing from dinner. He skipped gatherings with you. He grew fond of you in a way he hadn’t for anyone else. 

        He didn’t kiss or compliment you. Hell, it wasn’t so romantic at all, really. He’d just get that fluttery feeling when you stood close enough to touch shoulders, or when you’d both look each other in the eye and communicate silently. You always understood each other.

        Your company was peaceful and welcome. You were soft and kind, sure. But, you weren’t weak. The only thing you’d never done that others had to do was kill someone, and that time was sure to come when the situation called for it. That day would come sooner than either of you thought.

        You went out on a hunt with him once. Your duties at Alexandria were fulfilled for the day and you decided to tag along for some much needed peace that could only be found when you were alone with him in the woods.

        There weren’t many tracks to follow that day, so you spent a lot of the time just wandering with him. He normally would turn back when he realized there was little chance of finding food. This time, though, you were there, and he could tell you needed the escape, so he accompanied you in your stroll and pretended to search for signs of edible life.

          A snap in the bushes drew both your attention in the direction it came from. Daryl’s crossbow raised, your knife in hand. You suspected either a walker or an animal, never a group of rugged men dressed in rags and muck. 

        The men circled you both, outnumbering you by three more. They reeked of dirt, sweat, and blood. They eyed you with a predatory passion, the kind that a woman feared coming from a man. As hard as you fought, you and Daryl were no match for them. Daryl managed to take one out, you managed to injure another, but the other three managed to overpower you both. 

        One held you both at gunpoint while the other two went to gather some wood for a fire. Whatever they had planned for you, it wouldn’t be good. They intended on keeping you both for the night, that much was clear, but past that you were uncertain. While the other two were away, and the man you injured was wallowing in pain, the guy keeping watch over the two of you with a rifle was making sure Daryl understood just how angry he was at him for killing one of theirs. 

        You’d scream and beg him to stop but the man beat Daryl down nonetheless. Eventually Daryl stopped fighting, the pain becoming overwhelming and the fear that retaliation would result in harm coming your way creeping at the back of his mind. 

        Still, you begged, and when the man didn’t stop, you scanned your surroundings for anything of use. Your eyes landed on a gray rock with jagged edges. You glanced over at the man who was still kicking Daryl into the ground, then down at Daryl, who was watching you with a knowing look. His eyes said everything that needed to be said. He was telling you to do it. 

        Without a second thought you rushed over to the stone and ran up behind the barbarian, slamming the rock into the back of his bald head. The man stumbled and grabbed his skull, but he hadn’t gone down. You gripped the rock tightly once again and smashed him in the temple. He fell to the ground with a thud, but he was still moving, and that meant you weren’t done yet. You couldn’t be. 

         You climbed over him and straddled him, raising the rock high above your head with both hands, and brought it down on his face. You weren’t really sure if it worked. You had never killed anyone before — let alone in such a brutal fashion — so you kept going. Hoisting the heavy stone up and bringing it back down as hard as you could. By the time you stopped to catch your breath, the man’s face was smashed in, non recognizable. Blood and brain matter were speckled all over you. 

        You looked at the rock in your hands with horror and dropped it to the ground, scrambling away from the body in disgust. You were panting, hyperventilating.  When Daryl finally pushed his aching body off the ground he rushed over to you.

         His face was bloody and bruised, but you were his main focus. He dragged you to your feet and pulled you back toward home, all the while replaying the events of the day in his mind. 

        He always knew he’d kill for you. Hell, he’d die for you. But he never thought you’d do the same for him. He didn’t think you could. He didn’t believe you should have had to. He was meant to protect you, to keep your pretty skin free from the gore. He may have failed at that, but he did learn something: you’d kill for him.

        He didn’t forget that, either. Not when he helped you clean up that night, not when he relayed the events to Rick and Deanna, not when months passed and it was all in the past. He was reminded time and time again what you’d do for him. When you killed Saviors, when the war was over, when Rick died and you made sure to stay for days at a time with Daryl at his camp in the woods. 

         It took him years to realize it, but he thought maybe you could love him. He thought maybe he loved you too. He thought, no matter what, he’d always find you, and you him. 

        After the Whisperers were gone, at the Commonwealth, between caring for Judith and RJ, he’d find as much time for you as he could. And one night, at your small apartment, he’d stand outside the door, playing with his fingers and gnawing at his cheeks until he took a deep breath of courage and knocked.

        You’d open the door and smile at him the way you always did. Soft and subtle, but real. You’d step to the side and let him in. He’d follow you to the kitchen where you’d pour a drink for you both. He’d take a sip, then two, maybe three. He’d wait for the buzz to set in enough to gain some confidence in himself. Then, he’d find himself staring at you, taking you in as everything that you were. You’d ask him, “What?” With an awkward giggle. You’d wonder if you had something on your face that he couldn’t look away from. 

        He’d shake his head and shrug, unsure if he could find the words to articulate what he was thinking or feeling. He never had a way with words. 

        He couldn’t find the right thing to say, he’d realize. But he did think he knew what to do instead. 

        So, in the midst of the thick silence that consumed you both, in your dimly lit kitchen, he’d step closer to you. You’d stare up at him. He’d get close enough that you could feel his soft breaths tickle the baby hairs on your forehead. He’d reach up, slowly, unsteady, until his hands found your jaw. Then, he’d lean down, and his lips would find yours. 

Masterlist // Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

Divider credits can be found on my masterlist!

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[nyxthejinx]

Answering to this desperate cry for help

Maaan this was so much fun fr, i hope I made these bad boys justice. Also, didn't know what kind of format I should be using and especially how to repost the original thing, since copying and pasting on the reblog would be absolute hell rip

𝐓𝐖: people biting each other but in an affectionate way, idk lemme know if there's more

𝐅𝐭.: Dottore, Xiao, Childe - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k (in total)

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: 3rd Made in Abyss soundtrack - Kevin Penkin (yes, it's that good, no comment)

𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

OHOO he's gonna be so intrigued by this weird habit of yours.

We all know he's not big on social interactions and all -he barely values human life- but when you came into the picture he felt invested in someone for the first time. Hence he observes... Normal people, to learn the basics.

He's smart, a quick learner. Will understand in no time your likes and dislikes, but one day you?? Bite him? Chomp like a feral newborn kitten? Oh, his scholar personality spikes through the roof.

Dottore's never seen anyone bite their partner like you do, it confuses him at first, although he won't say anything and just chuckle. He'd rather observe you and come to his own conclusions before asking.

Was it a one time thing? When, how and where do you like to do it? Is there a deeper meaning, a show of intimacy? Need for attention? Affection?

Yeah he'll treat it like a maths equation, that's how he is.

Some days you'd see him without his mask, leaning particularly close to your face. Other times he'd set his gloves aside and let his digits linger on your cheeks and jaw for every little thing. (He knows he’s difficult to bite because of his clothes)

"Oh Dear, look at your lips, they're chapped/full of crumbs/smeared with any other kind of food/every single excuse he can come up with."

It takes you a bit longer than you would've wanted, but you realise his true intentions eventually. If you feel smug you can just chomp on him randomly and see him lose his mind (he thought he'd figured everything out rip dottore.exe).

I advise against it though, he'd repay the torture tenfold. (aka not cuddle with you even if you ask nicely).

Overall, Dottore finds this habit of yours cute. You're a nice little, innocent thing in his eyes and that just adds to your charm.

Yeah you can be a 1.90m tall menace of a person and he'd still tease you, an arrogant, mean jerk >:(

After some time he starts biting you back (ouch shark teeth), not in a painful way ofc. He's so casual with it, most likely to strike when you least expect it just to see your surprised and/or flustered face.

Or to have you chomping in return, even ;)

I'd say 7.5/10, good chomping partner but will "fight" back.

𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

My guy, poor guy.

He's another social inept, we all know why.

He started to learn about human customs after meeting you, and you've helped him out a lot, but he's still so stiff.

He probably gets a heart attack every time you give him a surprise hug. The day you chomp on him his soul leaves his body.

It's not that he's a scaredy cat, physical touch just overwhelms his senses if he's not prepared :((

Asks you to tell him beforehand next time.

But aside from that he doesn't seem to mind. He finds every human custom weird in a way, this one is no exception, and eventually it becomes routine yeah?

I think he's a perfect subject for chomping, with all the exposed skin he has. I mean, look at his shoulders! The urge to sneak up from behind and just CHOMP.

He's got muscles for days too, won't shatter your teeth on his bones. AND HIS CHEEKS- his baby cheeks, they look so soft how can you not bite those.

But yeah, just give him some time and he'll get used to this.

Xiao's not stupid either, he notices right away that you're the only human partaking in this activity, or in public at least. Lowkey feels happy and proud to have you as a partner, you're so special and unique :( <33

At some point he'll want to try it out as well, but he's sooo shy about it and a bit scared he'll hurt you. You gotta make him confess with bone crushing hugs.

When he eventually chomps back he's UGHH so soft with it. For Xiao it's more about the meaning and the bonding experience than the chomp itself.

9/10 if you're fine with doing all the chomping. 8/10 if you want chomps back, but definetly recommended.

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

Run. RUN. RUN FOR YOUR CHEEKS' LIFE.

He is THE chomping menace.

Let me tell ya, you're putting your life on the line. It's like a declaration of war and he will not hesitate to respond with all he's got.

We know for a fact that he's always up for a challenge. If you're crazy enough to engage and bite him first, well I hope you have a survival plan for the rest of your life cus he won't stop.

It can and will escalate in a "fight" if you're in a private space (you know the tickle fights where you become a mess of tangled limbs? That.) If you try that in public though? He's gonna look at you like a damn predator.

He'll eat your cheeks once you get home, good luck.

His bites are rough-ish too, unfortunately for you. He’d never hurt you on purpose, and is always careful with his strength, but in the heat of battle he’ll forget; 7 times out of 10 you leave the field with a 32 teeth bite mark. 

I think he is more of a cheek guy than anything. They're always available and easy to reach, regardless of your height, and it's also so intimate because who else touches your face? No one, aside from him.

He's the chosen one.

And don't think it will stop at the first time, no no. You've unlocked a new hobby for him. He'll put so much effort in it, it's terrifying.

If you act surprised or flustered well, bonus points in his opinion. Your face is just priceless and will make a habit to make you react that way.

At that point you either fight back or succumb. His soft spots are his stomach (duh, nibble on the exposed skin when he's in his work clothes, I bet he's ticklish), his nape, collarbones and overall the base of his neck.

The rest of his body is still a good chomping surface, but his instincts kick in and his muscles go taut, it's like biting a rock and has no effect on him.

Childe will definitely give you a hard time. It's up to you to take advantage of the right moment and give him a good revenge chomp.

Honestly, he's my fave ever but I'll give him a 5/10 just because of that. Can't even bite the man in peace anymore 🙄

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin xiao #childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #dottore x reader #genshin dottore #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #genshin blurbs #gn reader #genshin drabble #genshin fluff #genshin images #| Genshin Impact 🌓 | #| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

[takami-takami]

Like Idiots.

includes— hawks x reader. fluff. minors dni.

warnings— gn!reader. pining like idiots. keigo is a pain in the ass. the reader is worse. i had fun with this. <3

There is zero need for Keigo to make a confession when it comes to his crush. It would be entirely redundant to confess. 

Your sigh at the thought is palpable. It really is quite a shame.

Part of you yearns for that passionate drama of an ending, where in some novela-inspired twist of fate, your adoring knight is forced to spill his love at your feet. In your daydreams— the ones dreadfully reminiscent of some lovelorn teenager's— a faceless villain from fuck-all-nowhere nearly ends the life of his beloved hero partner.

And the words spill from his throat like his lovesick sobs, clutching you close to his chest while you do your best to pretend you're not biting back a smile at the attention. 

"I love you! I've always loved you," he'd cry. 

Or something like that. 

And you'd kiss, and sparks would fly, or whatever. 

End scene. 

You're not getting that confession, though. 

It figures your love life would turn out to be a comedy. Par for the course of your life, you suppose. 

Instead of a scrawled letter sealed with wax or a poem whispered under the imposing moonlight, your confession is written all over Keigo's face— well, not all over, exactly. Every centimeter of his face conceals his emotions meticulously, flawlessly.

Every portion of his face is perfectly practiced and impeccably controlled; except for two measly little points. 

You prod at your food again with your fork in hand, all frowns as you sit across from your work partner in a booth at the diner he likes to drag you to on your lunch breaks. 

And you stare uncomfortably into the most cartoonishly blown pupils you've ever seen.

"Um. Hawks?" 

"Yeah? What's up, chickadee," he asks sincerely before chomping down messily on a battered chicken drum, moaning and letting his eyes fall shut as he does with every meal— typically an obstacle for your focus, this accidentally whorish display is actually a welcome reprieve from your racing thoughts.

When his eyes flutter open once more, you're faced once again with black saucers and the sound of reckless chewing. His pupils are still dilated like a cat tripping balls on the dealer's finest catnip.

"Hawks, I really think I should tell you that—"

Your intervention is rudely interrupted by a waitress in a 50's style apron and folded paper hat combo, likely rushing over notepad in hand to get first dibs on serving a celebrity. 

You would prefer to be unfair. It'd be easier to displace your frustration for your lot in life onto this poor woman, to tell her that her hat looks stupid and pink isn't her color, that she should really just stop trying. 

You decide to be an adult. 

Keigo, on the other hand, does not. Like a child given free reign to order for himself at a restaurant for the first time, he explains that she should really heap on the sugar for his coffee.

"No, no, no. More than that. Like syrup. I want it to taste like it's gonna put me in an early grave and— wait, where are you going?"

The debacle brings to attention another phenomenon that you've grown accustomed to seeing:

The second his gaze meets her's, Keigo's pupils shrink to points once more, constricting to tight dots before bouncing back to their natural size. And predictably, once again, they expand like blown glass when you catch his attention.

"Hawks!"

"Yeah, what?"

His chewing ceases obnoxiously, chicken drum in his right hand and half-chewed remains in his left cheek.

You might as well rip it off like a bandaid. You let out a puff of air.

"Your eyes," you attempt to gently point out. 

"Mm?" Keigo's head tilts to the side, pondering your observation for a moment.

"My eyes? Ohh," he drags his words as if in realization, treating himself to another chomp into the drumstick. "You gettin' lost in them, huh? Happens, dove. You can stare, I don't mind."

"No!" You squeak out your denial before smoothing down your shirt and tipping your chin high. 

You have the upper hand here. Remember that.

"I mean," you correct your course, staring down and poking at your plate while a smile creeps up your lips. "It's kinda hard not to when your pupils look like they're gonna swallow your goddamn irises."

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Kei'?" You flick your gaze up toward him, worried now.

Under normal circumstances, it's an established habit for Keigo to slot one palm over his mouth when called out. 

But this time, that hand bypasses his lips, crawling upward to reach his visor and wordlessly drag it down over the source of his shame.

A stronger person than you would hold back their laughter. They would take pity on the flush rising over his cheeks and neck like sunsets. Perhaps they would coo praises to soothe him, or even take it all back to ease the shame and discomfort that makes him feel utterly naked. 

They would take pity on the man who, under the fluorescent high beams bolted to the diner's ceiling, looks just like a clown tripping on stage with the spotlight shined on his face.

You are not a strong person. 

In your hysterics, you reach over to pry the barrier off his eyes, climbing into his lap and over him like tussling teenagers. 

"Keigo, I didn't say it was a bad thing—"

"You're laughing," he laments like a kicked puppy, prying your face an arm's length from his with a single palm. 

It's over. This is it for him. His life is over, he's going to have to change his identity. 

He can start fresh with a new hero name, one not centered around red-tailed hawks— he'll need to rebrand as another bird, most likely. Preferably one with the same signature red feathers so as not to make a fuss for the merch department.

Maybe a parrot. 

Winged-Hero Parrots.

"You're laughing at me!" 

"I'm not laughing at—" another uncontrollable wheeze. His wings flap in indignance once, slamming against the cushions of the pink diner seat before drooping down like a dog's tail between its legs. You pluck the visor and raise it above your head out of arm's reach, one hand planted against his chest for stability.

"Not laughing at you! Baby, I promise—" 

"Baby?" He repeats.

The silence is worse the second time around— but luckily for you, Keigo is a stronger person than you are. No laughter erupts from his chest, no smirk settles on his face. 

If anything, your slip up seems to elevate his heart rate more than yours.

"We really should—"

"I think we need to—"

Both sentences collide in the small space between you, his lips completely still and mere inches away from yours. 

You're reminded of the feeling of your fingertips about to touch metal after being charged with static, the skin crackling with the air's tension as you contemplate whether to just get it over with and touch.

And slowly, as if suddenly cognizant of your bodies and environment, you both crawl off each other and scoot toward the furthest edges of the booth seat.

Your knees make their way toward your chest for comfort, while Keigo's wings drape over his shoulders like a cocoon. 

"We should talk."

#🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader

[writeforfandoms]

Last Night You Were In My Room

Find my CoD Masterlist

Kyle is perhaps the best comfort you could ask for while cramping on your period. He just loves having the excuse to spoil you.

Warnings: Period mention, cramps, kissing, established relationship, Kyle is far too smooth.

Word count: 1.4k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

“I’m back,” Kyle called, entirely unnecessarily, as the front door closed behind him. 

“That was fast.” You reluctantly pushed yourself up, stretching your arms up over your head. 

Kyle just laughed quietly, setting down his bags. You twisted to watch him - ice cream went in the freezer, chocolates stayed on the counter, electrolyte drinks went in the fridge. Except one, which he left on the counter. 

“Got you a surprise,” he said, glancing back at you with a little grin.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to peer around him at what he might be referring to. 

“Mmhm. Pick a movie to watch and I’ll bring it to you.” 

You eyed him for a moment longer, trying to decide if you could get away with spying. And then gave in with a little huff. He always caught you anyway. So you faced front again, kicking the blanket into better position and navigating to Jurassic Park. 

The microwave beeped and you leaned back into the couch, waiting patiently for your boyfriend to join you so you could both laugh at the blood sucking lawyer. 

Gaz did settle next to you, drink now on the coffee table in front of you. But he also held out something to you. 

“Saw it at the store,” he admitted with a grin. “Couldn’t not get it, love.” 

You blinked at the lilac sloth in his hand. It was soft, fake fur sticking up all over the place, and warm. “This… is so cute. It’s ridiculous.” You pulled it closer, taking in its silly little face, when a familiar scent teased your nose. “Is that lavender?” 

“Mmhm.” Kyle grinned, watching you. “Heatable, lavender scented, and adorable. Perfect for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning in to hug him. “You’re too sweet,” you murmured, pressing as close as you could get to him. “Thank you.”

“You deserve the world, love.” Kyle pressed a kiss to your temple before getting comfortable, pushing your new sloth down onto your abdomen where the heat would help your cramps. “What is it about being on your period that makes you bloodthirsty?” he asked, clearly joking, even as he snuggled in closer to you to reach the remote. 

“Hormones,” you drawled, bland as anything. “And it’s fun when it’s well done.” 

Kyle huffed with amusement, turning on the movie. “Need anything else?” he asked softly. 

You shook your head, cramps already less intense with the warm sloth on you. You hummed softly along with the music, and Kyle just laughed quietly. 

It didn’t matter how many times you’d seen this movie, or how many times you and Kyle had watched it together. It never got old. 

You did snicker though at the blood sucking lawyer getting chomped by the Rex. 

“Helluva way to go,” Kyle muttered, amused, eyes sparkling when you looked up at him. 

“On the toilet, or the Rex?”

“Both.”

You snickered, cuddling in closer to him. Not that you could get much closer - there was no space between you to begin with. Kyle groaned softly and grabbed your leg, pulling you a bit and adjusting you.

“Elbow in my side,” he explained when you blinked up at him.

“Whoops.” You immediately felt bad, because you honestly hadn’t noticed.

“You’re fine, love,” he assured you, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead until you smiled. “There we go. Much better.”

Warming under the adoration in those eyes, you melted into him. “Too good to me,” you muttered, refocusing on the movie. 

He just chuckled and rubbed one big hand up and down your thigh soothingly before checking your sloth. Which was no longer warm. “Want it warmed up again?” 

You made a face. You didn’t want to get up, but you needed to go to the bathroom. “Yeah, alright.” You paused the movie and got up (carefully so you didn’t elbow him again), stretching up onto your toes with your fingers stretched towards the ceiling. You did squeak when hands snuck around your stomach, teasingly gently at your shirt. “Oi.”

Kyle chuckled softly. “Sorry, love,” he murmured, clearly not sorry. “Take your time.” He kissed the back of your neck and released you. 

When you came back, the lights had been dimmed, the blanket fluffed, and your new sloth was warm again. Kyle had stretched out to wait for you, doing something on his phone.

“What do you think for dinner?” he asked, lifting one arm to let you come cuddle again.

“We should eat it,” you agreed easily, cuddling into his side again and putting the sloth against your lower back this time. 

“No preferences?” 

“Not really.” You hummed as some tension leaked from you at the soothing warmth both of your boyfriend and the sloth. 

“Got it.” He kissed the top of your head, doing a few more things on his phone before he locked it and slid it back in his pocket. “Ready to face Mr. Arnold?”

“Or what’s left of him,” you agreed easily, pressing play again. It never failed to amaze you how good the movie still looked. 

The movie ended, with you still humming the music as the credits rolled, when there was a knock at the door. Kyle extricated himself to bring in dinner, bringing it over to you so you didn’t have to do anything. 

“Keep up this treatment and I’ll have to marry you,” you half-joked, smiling up at him. (Not that you’d tell him yet, but the thought had crossed your mind more than once. Marrying him.) 

Kyle just chuckled, bringing over cold drinks for both of you and settling down next to you again. “Sure you wanna be stuck with me, darling?” 

You snorted. “Kyle, darling, anyone would be lucky to have you,” you said matter-of-factly, pulling your food closer to you. “Seriously.” 

He hummed but didn’t push the topic further, the two of you eating in peace. He turned on The Mummy to watch while you ate, which amused you.

“And you say I’m bloodthirsty,” you teased, grinning at him. 

“Never said I wasn’t,” he pointed out reasonably. 

You snickered, getting up to clean up. “Before you protest, I need to move anyway,” you said, pointing a stern finger at him.

Kyle held his hands up in clear surrender, smiling as he watched you clean up from dinner. Another quick bathroom break and Kyle had your sloth warmed.

This time, though, he pulled you down on top of him, face to face, so you laying on his chest. 

“Kyle–” you started to protest.

“Not doing anything except rubbing your back,” he murmured, nudging his nose into yours gently. “Okay? That’s all.”

“Okay,” you agreed, grateful that he didn’t make you say more. 

“Relax,” he whispered, his hands settling on your back, rubbing gently. You hummed and gave in, closing your eyes. He somehow always got the pressure just right - firm enough to feel good without digging in and causing pain. You hummed with contentment, tucking your head down into the crook of his neck. 

“Better?” he murmured, keeping his voice low, his hands on your back just above your hips. 

“Much,” you agreed, lifting your head again. He was right there, handsome and warm and considerate. He really was too good to you. The best thing that had ever happened to you, really. Your eyes stung with the threat of tears, your heart suddenly over-full of emotion. 

“What?” he asked, lifting one hand to your cheek instead, gaze darting around your face. “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” you managed, a little scratchy, wrinkling your nose even as the threatened tears started to accumulate in your eyes. “Really, nothing, just–stupid fucking hormones.” 

He relaxed a little, thumb rubbing gently against your cheek. “You sure?” 

“Yeah.” You sniffled, embarrassed on top of everything else now. “I just… really love you.” 

He blinked at you, clearly caught off guard, before he smiled, bright and beaming. “Love you too,” he murmured, tilting his head to kiss you softly. And then again, and again, until the both of you were breathless. 

“Bedtime,” he husked, eyes dark now as he looked at you. You smiled slowly and nipped his lip before getting up and scooting to the bathroom. 

(Which was fine. Gaz took the chance to grab a few supplies, just in case, and check the ring waiting in his duffel bag. Maybe tomorrow, when you felt better.) 

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #f!reader

[shotmrmiller]

All the nurses are confused why there 4 large men crowding around the baby in your hospital room.

Price is a baby hog: imma say it. He wanted to be a dad so bad, it’s all of their kid! but, Price will hip check anyone out of the way to be the first to hold the baby. Gaz acknowledges the baby, adores the baby but, he beelines to you. Right now? You need his attention and affection. You’re his priority, he’ll have his baby time eventually.

Soap wants the baby SO FUCKING BAD! But nothing is going to make Price put the baby down (Except you, he’ll gladly hand the baby over to you) Soap’s acting like a crackhead looking for his next hit. Simon doesn’t want to hold the baby yet, he’s fine watching for now… he pokes the baby ngl

Gaz rocks along with whomever is rocking the baby. (It’s a thing) A subconscious thing, someone else has the baby, bouncing it, Gaz his rocking and bouncing in sync with them. His voice turns soft and sweet whenever he talks to the baby. When it’s Gaz time? It’s soft and sweet calm down time.

Soap holds the baby in increasingly weirder ways the older the baby gets. Like, that kid is nothing but a rugby ball to Soap. He randomly bites the baby. Not like ‘chomp’ but, like mouths the baby’s chubby cheeks. MAN HANDLES baby! Not too rough, just to get the giggles going. When it’s Soap time? It’s high energy fun time.

Price is a baby head sniffer, a coddler, the one who’s scolded most about holding the baby too much. They’re not going to want to be put down! “Well, why do you think I got these muscles for? So I can hold them s’long as they want! Mind your own damn business!” When it’s Price time? It’s Stern loving care with no nonsense.

And Simon, oh Simon. Simon is the worrier. He checks to see if the baby is breathing every 20 minutes, he has *everything* on hand. Blankie’s, dummies, hats, extra socks, anything that baby needs? Simon has. He’s the one they’ll run too when they need anything. When it’s Simon time? It’s dumb jokes, happy giggles quiet time.

They- they have a girl. They’re all girl dads, no question.

(Poly baby au. You’re the Squad’s girl and it’s their baby)

You inspired me.

(That and I just became an Auntie and, disgustingly, have baby-fever. I hope it goes away soon)

POLY FUCKING BABY AU!!! CHRRRRRIST!!!!

IM GOING INSANE

THEIR BABYYY!!! i need a poly au baby or im gonna lose my goddamn mind.

Can you imagine like the nurse being like so, who's the father? only for 4 hands to go up.

oooookay...who's the biological father? Simon, bless his tactless soul just bluntly says, "We all fu-err, sleep with her."

The nurse just sighs. "Someone needs to fill out the paternity acknowledgement form and the baby needs to have a last name."

Johnny thinks that it should have all of theirs because MacPrilerrick is definitely something that should go on paper.

But the genetics are obvious, so the baby's last name is Garrick.

Price is the one that rips his shirt off for skin-to-skin time, though. "Everyone piss off."

Johnny would totally cackle at him like, "Yer gonna smother the bairn with yer chest hair, Cap." Because his body hair situation is that much better.

Kyle's softly speaking with the nurses, asking them a bunch of questions they're more than happy to answer.

Simon's simply staring at the baby, because why is she so small? You'll pull him out of his reverie with a soft touch to his wrist. "You won't hurt her. There's no place safer for the baby than in your arms, hm?" He has to sit down to hold her because his knees spaghetti.

Congratulations!! The newborn phase is the best. They just smell like BABY.

I could eat them right up.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

| Master List | Prev Part | Next Part

Word Count: 16.9k

Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans, smut, meeting Hawkins characters, smut, regular kinks, public sex, and lazy writing where i didn't even look up countries to travel to for honeymoons. Also...a haircut... (don't hate me)

I barely got this done in time, and it's also unedited. My editor says she can do it and we'll replace the rough copy lol.

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for always telling what they think and reading for it me first.

I just wanted to share some personal news. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, and I am always so fucking tired, so I apologize for posting a million things one week and nothing for months. The inspiration really comes and goes.

Anyways Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.

You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”

“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”

“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”

“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.

“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.

“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.

“You found a dress?”

You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”

The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted.  The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”

“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.

He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.

“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.

Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”

Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.

“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”

A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”

He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”

A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”

He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”

You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”

“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”

Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”

You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”

He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, tilting his head and twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”

With his blessing, you started to feel something like trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.

On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.

A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen came into view.

As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. As soon as the zipper is up, your eyes welled up in bridal glory.

All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)

Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”

“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.

“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.

“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.

“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”

Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”

Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.

You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.

The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.

 “Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.

-

Hours later into the evening, your friends are taken off to their prospective life commitments. The living room is tidied up and the tv turned on to some background noise as you doom-scroll on your phone. Right on time, the front door to the house slams shut.

His hot breath and sweet kisses on your neck feels like home, titling your neck and humming happily as his arms wrap around your torso from behind the couch. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello, my love.” He greets. Your hand lands on his hair, petting his curls. “I gotta take a shower, then I’ll be right back.”

He bends your head on the back, giving you a deliciously upside down kiss. “Hurry fast.”

A usual shower for him doesn’t take too long, usually sporting sweats and a band tee as he comes back down the stairs twenty minutes later.

It’s only thirty minutes when your patience completely runs out, hopping up the stairs wondering if he fell asleep. He’s not in the room, or the bathroom, so you finally find him in the closet, squatting while he grabs something from one of the low storage shelves.

“Hey, Eddie—”

You forget the English language. Every word you’ve ever known is gone from your brain, nowhere to be seen. He uses his elbows to lean on his thighs, perched on his toes and smiles at your speechlessness.

“Surprised?” He asks, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You stare up at it, hand petting his scalp. “What did you do?”

He shrugs, spinning his hands in circles in his hair. “Needed a change.”

“That…that’s a big change.” You comment, noting the way his face looks without his hair framing it.

He grins, hand caressing your face sweetly. “What do you think?”

You wonder how you missed the razor with a hair clip on the counter. “I think we might have a problem…”

The panic in his eyes is subtle, but there. Clearly, he’s never had someone who loved him for him, and you’re excited to see his reaction. “Oh?” Eddie asks, doing his best to appear casual.

You smile, admiring the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck, even buzzed all the way to his scalp. “What the hell am I going to hold onto while you go down on me?” You ask, playfully scolding him.

He laughs, his face crumbling in relief. “We’ll figure it out, sweets.” He tugs you into his arms, arms gorgeously tough as he hugs you intensely. “Not the first time I’ve cut my hair, you know.” Eddie tells you, squatting back down to grab what he needed.

You’re honestly unsure if you’ve ever seen a picture of him with short hair, but then again, his social media doesn’t have many pictures of him. “Oh?”

Eddie grabs what he needed successfully, taking off into your shared bathroom. “Yeah, last time was when Dyl was like eight, or something.” Eddie answers, cleaning up the last strands of hair from the counter. How did you miss those?

“Needed a change, then, too?” You ask, now seeing where he placed his shed locks, the damn garbage.

Eddie tucks his lips in, tongue poking out between his lips. “Uh, not exactly.” He starts, hesitating. “Brooke sort of…demanded? I guess? That I cut my hair when long hair was apparently not really cool anymore.” He laughs, putting the razor away. “She wouldn’t let it go.”

Anger is useless, at this point, knowing that dumb bitch was just plain horrible to him. It still stings to know he had to deal with her, regardless. “She seems so lovely.”

Eddie laughs, taking your hand in his as he led you back out the bedroom and back down the stairs. “This time, at least I did it for myself.”

“I can’t lie,” you start, sitting nearly on his lap on the couch. “I will miss it, and our kids will be shocked when they see their dad had short hair in our wedding photos…but it’s hair. It grows back. I will always accept you for who you are, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t know which part to focus on more. He hopes you never fail to make him feel so loved, and honestly, he doubts you ever possibly could. But for the moment he focuses on the first part. “Our kids huh?” He asks as you lean back comfortably against his chest.

“Oh, hush, you know what I want from you.” You rebuke, smiling satisfied as you watch whatever is on TV.

His arm wrapped around you pulls you impossibly closer to him, still expecting the itch of his hair on your neck. “I know, my love. I want the same thing.”

“You get any calls for RSVPs, yet baby?” You ask, sighing happily.

“Steve called, everyone’ll be there, of course.” Eddie answers, grabbing the remote to switch channels.

“Oh, cool, I can’t wait to meet Jocelyn.” You say, still not having met his wife.

“I thought you’d be more excited to meet Eliza.”

“Oh, her, too.” You laugh, nodding. “She will be the cutest flower girl ever.”

Eddie kisses the top of your head, sighing happily as his cheek rests on it. “That, she will be.”

-

Eddie’s hands are intertwined with yours as he flies down the major highway, music blasting through his speakers as the wind sends your hair flying from the open windows. The prospect of flying versus driving to Hawkins was debated for a hot minute, but a long road trip with him was just too good to pass up. Several bags are in the back seat, packed for both the four days you’re spending in Hawkins, and the three weeks for the honeymoon.

He surprised you with a His and Hers matching set of bags, mouth quirked in a smile as he saw the embarrassment take over your face. He knew how excited you were to go take a trip to Cancun with him as newlyweds, and he did his best to make it clear the feeling is mutual.

But before you can take off on a flight with him, comes getting married.

Both your dress and his suit are in garment bags, something you’re all too thrilled for him to see, the prospect of him on the other side of the aisle filling you with a level anticipation you didn’t know was possible.

The trip is long, and you wonder how Steve was able to make it to your parents’ in such short notice, noting you’ll need to extend more gratitude to him. You had offered to drive, but Eddie had repeatedly denied you, insisting you’re his queen, and he planned on treating you like one.

What was that you had said earlier about living a fairy tale?

As you pulled into the small town, Eddie texts a few of his friends to let him know you had arrived safely. He pulls up to the one gas station in town, stretching his back out, walking into the convenient store to pay and take a leak.

When he comes back out of the station there’s an aura of amusement on his face, shaking his head. You meet him at the pump, eyebrow quirked to ask him what he was so smug about.

“He’s still alive.” Eddie chuckles as he puts the pump to start filling it up. He laughs again when your face twists into even more confusion. “Gus, the owner from when I was in high school, he’s still kickin’, and he’s still running the joint.” He pauses, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Probably out of pure spite, if anything.”

You kiss his cheek, petting at the curls now swirling in his hair. You still missed the length, but he looked good with short curls. “Wonder who else has surpassed those expectations.”

His eyes widen at the idea. “If Higgins is still principal…”

You smirk, having several stories about Higgins undeserved vendetta he held against Eddie, having once blackmailed him into dripping out. “God help the youth of Hawkins, Indiana.”

“I don’t blame Arlo for any of his sass in that case.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a text from your mother that she, Viti, your dad, and her had successfully landed in Indianapolis and are currently grabbing their rental. Thank god your mom is acting like a mother again after her brief mental psychosis. 

For the first day in town, Eddie has a whole plan for you, refusing to tell you what he had planned. First, was the singular old folks’ home Hawkins hosted. The receptionist immediately recognizes Eddie, flickering to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Is this?” She asks, pointing to you covertly.

“Sure is.” He answers. “How is he?”

“Very excited.” She answers, placing a pen and paper on the counter in front of you. Eddie signs his name, and hands the pen for you to do the same. “Same room as always.”

Confused, you follow his lead down the hall the opposite way from the rec room where a group of elderly individuals were playing bingo. He’s petting your thumb with his, his eyes flickering between your eyes and the ground.

Is he nervous?

He finally stops at the door second to last on the left, labelled with the number 18. Three knocks on the door and there’s a gruff voice on the other side telling you to come on in. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens it, slowly walking into the room.

The door opens to an older, much older, man with a very thin patch of hair on his head facing the other direction, hands shuffling over a faded deck of cards, slowly categorizing them, supposedly a game of solitaire. Eddie lets go of your hand to approach him from behind, playfully humming, moving one of the cards over the old man’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Eddie says, gentle and smug.

“Christ, you always knew how to beat me.” He mutters, shaking his head. He lifts it to face Eddie, smiling ear to ear as he stands up slowly, relying on the table in front of him for stability. “Bout time you came back to town,” he jokes, tugging Eddie in for a hug.

You can see Eddie’s smile over his shoulder, observing the way Eddie relaxes in his hold. Eddie’s hands on his back are firm, gripping onto him for dear life. You’ve heard stories, only had an idea of how much his guardian meant to him, but from just the looks of this hug, it’s the kind of affection you suppose could only a parent could provide him.

Times like these you wished you knew him when he was younger, just to see more of these vulnerable moments.

Not that you want to cut their reunion short, but you need to get this introduction out of the way because it was the one you’re most nervous about. You clear your throat subtly, only to get their attention. Eddie’s eye’s abruptly open, meeting yours apologetically. “Sorry, sweets.” He says, pulling away from the hug. “Uh, Wayne this is—”

Wayne, the man who has picked up the slack from his deadbeat brother and runaway sister-in-law, turns to face you, smile on his face as he abruptly wraps you in his arms for a hug. “I don’t need an introduction to the woman who brought my son back to life.” He insists, squeezing you tight. You want to feel cocky about this statement, but all you can do is smile into his shoulder. It’s impossible that the affect you have on one another is the same, a lust for life you’ve never have before now ever present, looking forward to the future knowing that you’ll have him for as long as humanly possible.

It's just nice to hear from those who have known him his whole life.

Wayne finally lets you go, the smile lines ever present as he grins at you. “Well, I suppose you two still have a lot of work to do before Saturday, huh?”

You look at Eddie, shrugging in sync. The only thing there really is to do is set a few tables up for the reception and pick up some flowers from the local florist. A small wedding means little to do, especially with good friends in town insisting on helping tie the final pieces together.

“This one isn’t a bridezilla, is she?” Wayne jokes, winking at Eddie’s exasperated eyeroll.

“She could stand to be a bit more decisive, to be honest.” Eddie laughs, a lobsided smile.

To be fair, you just wanted to marry him, it really didn’t matter how the tables are laid out at the reception, or where you take the photos. He could’ve taken you to a courthouse and you would’ve been satisfied, but there is something so enticing about announcing to your close friends and family how much you love and plan to spend all your days with him.

Wayne and Eddie talk, Wayne telling the embarrassing stories you’ve been begging Steve to tell you, yet with no success. The pink blush on Eddie’s face is adorable, watching as he hopelessly protests the stories, but Wayne seems to be the only person out there who doesn’t get intimidated by Eddie’s stern voice. You wonder if the temptation to give the same energy next time you’re being berated by him will be too much to ignore.

Your favourite story that Wayne told you was the one where he was ten years old and attempted to mix his love of hard Metal and Dungeons and Dragons and turned on the song only to forget he had it turned all the way up the day before.

It resulted in snacks everywhere and one of his favourite figurines crashed as he stumbled across the room to try to turn his stereo down. Wayne even had some photos he keeps in a box on his dresser, handing one by one. The best set of photos were Eddie growing his hair, going from a kid with a buzz cut in the halls of a school displaying a rock signal to the camera to a jaded teenager refusing to smile for it.

Yeah, if you knew Eddie in high school you would’ve been down bad.

Eventually, Eddie stops protesting at the stories and just ends up defending the actions of a hormone-driven seventeen-year-old.

“You’re not expecting me to wear a suit, are you?” Wayne squints, leaning back onto the desk.

“Just wear something nice, will ya?” Eddie asks, an aura of affection for his lifelong guardian.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wayne dismisses him.

The nurse is sweet as you and Eddie sign out, Eddie requesting that they get him out of his room to socialize for once. She laughs, insisting that they do his best to get him out, but he is stubborn as he is old. Judging from his silver hair and the vibrant blue veins showing from his paper-thin skin, you can see where Eddie gets a lot of his personality from.

Eddie’s a silent sort of content as he drives down the main street, thumb caressing your hand with purpose and ease. He makes a turn, slowing at the end of the street at a sweet little yellow house. “Where you bringing us this time?”

“Still not telling.”

The front door opens to a woman with short curly hair, crossing her arms as soon as she sees who is on her front step. “Was wondering when you’d stop by.” She says, waving her hands to invite you in. “Come on in, Robin is over for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Wheeler.” Eddie greets her, tugging you in with him.

Oh, Nancy. You’ve heard little about her, only that her determination is scary.

“Yeah, come on in, you groomer.” Comes another voice, a little rough on the edges but said with love.

“Groomer?” Eddie asks, eyebrow tilting.

“You’re lucky that’s all I’m calling you.” Robin, sitting at a table with a cup of tea, playfully shoots back. “Marrying a girl half your age.”

“And like I’ve said on the phone, she’s been making as many of the decisions I have.” Eddie says, sounding tired. “Anyway, this is Robin, that’s Nancy.”

They toast their cups to you, observing how you and Eddie are with each other, his hand around your shoulders and your hand easily intertwined with his.

“They’re uh, they keep me in check.” Eddie laughs, gesturing to them.

“You cut your hair.” Nancy states, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen that in a few years.”

“Whatever, do you want to tell her or not?”

Turns out, Nancy and Robin been communicating and texting Bethany and Skyler for ideas on a bachelorette party for you. Your eyes are full of fear as you glance to them full of fear, scared of what they had planned.

Those eyes were a little too smug for comfort. “You haven’t told her anything about the uh… U.D, have you?” Robin asks softly as Nancy shows you a photo album as the friend group from years back. What a friend group to be in back in their heyday.

“Not quite yet.” Eddie shrugs, wondering how is it those faded memories can come back so quickly just because he’s in town.

“You ever plan to?”

“Probably. Won’t wait too long so she doesn’t think I’m senile.” Eddie jokes, but it falls flat.

“I think she can handle it.” Robin admits, now having spent a few hours with you. “Maybe skip the part where your heart stopped.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Probably.”

-

Eddie has made several more stops throughout the day, introducing the many colourful characters that flooded his hometown. Felt like right out of a storybook.

The one you most got along with turned out to be Dustin Henderson, the very same one who Steve’s third son is named after. Just from your first conversation surrounded by their goofiness, do you truly understand how dorky, how dramatic he really is. Dustin does have stories to tell you, less embarrassing, more dripped in his dramatic flair for life.

Dustin checks on the habits he still carries, does he still fidget with his fingers, does he tuck in his lips, has his patience gotten better.

Correction, Dustin is one other person you suppose Eddie can’t intimidate. You’ve seen many attempts only met with laughter. “Steve has a bachelor party planned for you, you know.”

You shoot Dustin a glare, charging on him. “There won’t be any strippers, right?”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops when you shoot a glare at him, giving you a meek smile. You fucking thought so.

“Don’t worry, Harrington has a death wish, but not that badly. It’s a meticulously planned out campaign.” Dustin chuckles elbowing you. “A few drinking games involved, but no models in bikinis.”

Suddenly Eddie’s in your ear, breath sending shivers down your body. “If you were to show up in a bikini, I wouldn’t protest.” Eddie whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Tempting, but I think I’ll wait until Cancun.” You answer, grinning cheekily at his widened eyes.

Eddie gets a text that night when you’re in the hotel room with him where the reception was to take place. Most of the wedding was completely figured out, the two of you are ready for a night in before the rush sets in for tomorrow, cuddled up under the blanket as he reluctantly watches one of your favourite romcoms.

His hand pets on your bare thigh, slowly making its way up, smirking at the way you tense under his touch, whimpering as you impatiently wait for him to finally touch you. His fingers finally, finally brushing under your panties and just seeing how wet you are when Eddie’s phone vibrates on the bed. “Don’t you dare.” You protest, clutching in his shirt.

“You’re not in any position to be making demands.” He chuckles, sliding to answer his phone.

You huff, head banging against the head rest.

“Make it fast, Harrington.” Eddie answers. You start to pay more attentive attention to the movie when his hand slips back under your panties. His finger moves easily along your folds, slowly working you. Eddie mutes his phone, “Be fucking quiet, got it?” You nod, forcefully taking a pillow and biting down on it. “Sorry, bud, what was that?”

Eddie listens, face crumbling in annoyance. “And we don’t get any say in this?” He asks, inserting his finger bast the barrier of your entrance. “Yeah, we’ll be an hour.”

Eddie hooks his finger, eyes raking down your body as your back arches in attempt to keep quiet.

“Because you caught us in the middle of something, Stevie.” He laughs starting to speed up. Something Steve says tugs a beautiful sound of laughter from his lips, hanging up and tossing the phone. “Take your panties off, we have an hour.”

You throw the pillow across the room, grinning as you take your panties and the shirt you’re wearing off.

When he slides into you, perfect and relentless, the words he whispers in your ear are how he can’t wait to marry you, how much he wants to see his girl in a pretty white dress just for him, and what a pretty girl he has.

The only words that leave your throat are about how much you love him, on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you, Iloveyou.

Stubbornly, Steve demanded two of you made your way over as soon as possible. Eddie agrees, but really wishes he could stay with you when he sees the blissed-out expression you wear in the afterglow. Damn him.

You reluctantly go with him, half asleep as your head rests his shoulders when Steve finally opens the door. “Finally, you sluts!” Steve laughs, hand in his front pocket as he opens the door with the gusto only Steve Harrington really can. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time you get a haircut.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. “If we came all this way just for this, then I will see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“She has a point.” Eddie agrees, also ready to go back to the room and forget you were asked.

“Chill out you two.” Steve insists, “c’mon.”

Well, Steve is one hell of a schemer, because as soon as you reach the living room everyone (and then some) jumps out from their hiding places, a big ass surprise party.

Like the two of you weren’t already having a big party in two days, but this is a large reminder of how loved you are.

This thankfully gave you a chance to mingle with the rest of the Harringtons, Eliza regretfully already asleep upstairs. Immediately, you see the connection between Nicky and Dylan and how much they get along far more than Dylan ever did with Arlo.

Arlo and Viti are mingling a little too close for comfort, her back leaning against the counter as his hand is placed right next to her, nodding as what ever she says is apparently agreeable. Whatever Arlo is planning, he’d better stop that shit.

Jocelyn Harrington is the perfect ying to Steve’s yang, perfectly balancing out his chaotic personality and keeping him in check only the way she can. You ask her to keep an eye out for Arlo, something she promises that she’s tried to do many times in the past, in fact, this his him tamed.

You finally learn who you’ve hired to take the wedding photos, a boy you’ve only spoken to over the phone from Steve’s recommendation. He’s…Nancy’s, ex’s, son, Jeremy Byers, who has apparently picked up his dad’s hobby in photography and, like his father, turned it into something that can pay the bills. His dad is freakishly just like him, sweet and unassuming. What is it with genes in this town? Everyone just copies and pastes.

Somehow, Steve managed to get your parents to show up, somehow finally warming up to Eddie. Still, she’s on thin ice for ever having insulted him to begin with. Apparently, Nancy does remember your mom, having been on the newspaper with her.

Your mom was on the newspaper?

The night is spent laughing in Steve’s massive living room, the air filled with anticipation and pure excitement, actually glad you were forced out of bed. The doorbell rings, opening to face your two best friends as they squeal and wrap you in a hug and everything is right in the world.

Maybe your mom could stop flirting with Steve, though.

-

Finally, you stumbled into the Hotel room at 3am, giggling together as he falls on the bed on top of you. His hand snakes his way under your skirt, tugging them down fast, the sound of him undoing his belt driving you crazy as you giddily and hurriedly help him with his shirt. He’s been teasing you all night, his lush lips wrapping yours and wandering hands making you want to pull him into one of the bathrooms.

The pure want in you right now when you know you’re about to make Eddie your husband is coursing through your body is excessive. There’s a looming question, will you be able to hold back during your wedding? Answer is a definite no, but you’re trying to trick yourself into believing that you will.

His bare skin against yours as he ruts against you is everything, yet even after every orgasm you want more, crave more of him more than you ever thought was possible. You’re extra greedy that night, holding him closer, begging him for more, more, more. His words are a sweet mixture of worship, praise, and just a little bit of degradation. My girl, my sweet love, taking me so well, your sweet cunt, greedy little slut.

You fall asleep with your legs wrapped around his waist, sleepily exchanging sweet nothings in one another’s ear, the rest of the world dissolved completely.

The vibrations of your phone don’t wake you up, but it certainly alerts you to the following vibrations of Eddie’s. The phones didn’t even make it to your chargers, sitting in the mess of clothing on the carpeted hotel floor. Eddie’s body is partially on yours, wrapped in his musk as you stretch, taking in the reflection of the sun on the roof. “Eddie.” You moan, stretching your limbs as you attempt to reach off the king-sized bed. “Phone.”

Another phone is buzzing, somebody clearly relentless in their effort to get a hold of you. Eddie hums, head twisting only the littlest bit in your neck. “Too…too bad.” You slowly crawl out of his hold, rolling towards the scattered pile of clothing. Just when you think you’re successful, Eddie’s strong bicep effortlessly pulls you back, tightening his grip on you. “Stay.”

The sound erupts again. “You don’t think that could be important?” You ask, finger gently trailing along the skin of his back.

His shoulders shrug, lips starting to trail kisses along your neck. “Don’t care.” He mumbles, hands moving across your skin. You can feel his enthusiasm against your leg, tugging him down against you. “Waking up to your beautiful face, gorgeous fucking body, you think I care about anything else?”

When he puts it like that, you suppose you really can’t say no to him, especially when his voice is luring you in like so. You hum, starting to see his point as the buzzing fades into the background. “Then get to it, will ya?” You ask him, hands intertwined in his short curls. As he pushes himself up on his hands, his eyes meet yours, grinning cheekily.

“Get to it, you say?” He asks, hands tugging on your hips your body meets his perfectly. “Somehow last night still left me unsatisfied.” He pushes into you slowly, not giving you any warning or bothering to prep you. As assumed, the slick from last night remains ever present along your folds, allowing Eddie to push in effortlessly. Your mouth opens wordlessly, meeting his eyes and drinking in the pure lust in them. “This pussy baby, you’re telling me I get this for the rest of my life? Am I that lucky?”

As always, he’s crazy to believe he’s the lucky one. “Whenever you want, Ed,” you tell him, fingers clawing up his back and mewling. “Faster, please, please, baby.”

“Pretty voice beggin for me.” Eddie mutters, still granting the wish. “Think your pussy can take more of daddy’s cum?” He asks, hands intertwined in your hair and thrusting harshly. “Thought I already filled it a bit last night.”

“Never enough, Ed.” You gasp, pulling his lips on yours. They’re lush and sweet, but the kiss turns dirty as his hands press harshly and fiercely. “Can never…never get enough.”

Eddie chuckles, curling himself into your neck. “You keep saying shit like this to me and I will never let you leave this room.” His hands slide themselves down to your wrists, sitting up as he pulls your arms down your torso. This position hits a new angle, the pleasure hitting a deeper spot than you knew possible.

“Who said I want to leave?” You laugh, his grip on your wrists tight enough to bruise.

Your legs wrangle themselves against his chest, feet flexing next to Eddie’s face, watching his half open mouth and gorgeous face. “Just what I wanted to hear, sweets.”

His hips are beautifully relentless, eventually turning you around in his grasp, your face hitting the pillow as his hips start impossibly faster. His hand grips itself in your hair, pulling your back against his chest, snaking from your hair back around your neck. “Listen to those sounds you make, love, so desperate for me.”

“What a pretty girl, taking my cock so fucking well.” His other hand clings itself onto your clit, circling it as his hot breaths gasp against your neck. “Feel that sweet pussy dripping all over me, you close, babygirl?”

“So close, Daddy.” You whine, neck stretching impossibly high as the pull in your stomach is strong and intense. His fingers move faster, driving you towards that high more and more. “Oh, my god, Ed.”

Your pussy flutters around him, eyes twitching shut and whining in his hold as his hips never let up. As you just start to come down from it, there’s a loud knock on the door. You fall forward, whining as Eddie doesn’t let up. The knock comes again, faster and louder this time. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind them, and frankly, neither do you, listening to him as his groans grow deeper and longer, reaching backward frantically for his hands. “Gonna fill you up, love.”

The knocks are now rapid, never ending and stubborn.

“One fucking minute!” Eddie yells, voice harsh and aggravated.

Now the voice that’s been shouting is clear who it is, Steve apparently having no patience as he shouts in anger.

You feel him rut a final time, bending over you as he gasps desperately into your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hurry up, I’ve been calling you guys for an hour!” He yells, you can practically hear his hands placed on his hips.

“You want me to open the door naked?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pair of pants he tossed onto the ground last night.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Steve asks, a hint amusement in his voice.

Eddie opens the door, rolling his eyes as he leads him in. You lie under the covers, not caring about the lack of clothing you wear. “What?”

“Oh lord.” Steve grunts once he sees your relaxed posture on the bed, scrolling through your phone.

“I’m sorry, did you not know what you were walking in on? Your ears have mysteriously vanished from your head?” You ask, a half smirk placed on your face at his hand exaggeratedly hiding you with his hand.

“I at least figured you’d have clothes on,” Steve grumbles back, crossing his arms. “I’ve been calling you two for the last hour, we have shit to do before the parties tonight.”

“Parties?” Eddie asks, slipping his shirt on.

“Yes, parties. Hurry, you two.” Steve demands, clapping his hands repeatedly. You stare up at him blankly, still half paying attention to the videos on your phone. “Well?”

You blink at him, stunned. Wasn’t this wedding supposed to be easy? “Get out!” Point angrily to the door of the room.

“I want you two in the lobby in five minutes. We got shit to do.” Steve demands, letting the hotel door slam behind him.

You glance to your fiancé, leaning on your elbow cheekily. “Wanna fuck me again?”

To be honest, Eddie’s jeans were back around his ankles before you even finished the sentence.

-

The feeling of shamelessness as the elevator opens to the lobby fifteen minutes later is refreshing, sporting kiss bruised lips and tussled hair as you cheekily greet him.

Steve looks tired, sitting in a chair in the lobby scrolling through his phone leaning on one elbow. “I should’ve known way better.”

Admittedly, Steve was right. Despite the size of your wedding there was still a stupid amount to do before the Wedding takes place the next day. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably would’ve stayed in bed all day until the realization kicks in. Maybe being as much in love with Eddie as you are is both your saving grace and your downfall.

Steve acts like a wedding planner. You thought your mom is bad, turns out she’s got nothing on Steve Harrington with a goal and a vision.

Flowers picked up, hair stylist and makeup artist booked, the church confirmed, all the t’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

When you’re sitting with Eddie and Steve on the living room couch at the early evening, Jocelyn opens the door, walking in with her daughter running in like a little tornado, her little curls bouncing with every step. Her voice is to the brim with giggles, running up to Steve with glee.

“Daddy!” She yells, hopping into his arms as he catches her effortlessly. Eliza is somehow even cuter in person than she is in any photo you’ve ever seen of her.

Steve hugs her tightly, petting her back like the gentle parent he is. “You see who’s here, yet, Liz?” He asks, nodding towards Eddie and you.

Eliza abruptly leaves his hold, switching her bright green eyes to Eddie. “Uncle Eddie?” She jumps straight for him, forcing the one arm behind you to wrap around her.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He greets, your eyes meeting his over her shoulder. Seeing him talk about her animatedly is one thing, but watching him melt as soon as she’s in his grasp sets your ovaries on fire. “Are you excited to be a flower girl for us?”

Her eyes flicker to yours, shyly smiling, as if remembering there was someone for her uncle Eddie to get married to. “That’s the lady?”

He laughs, hearts in his eyes never leaving as he glances over. “Yep.”

Eliza looks back to him ‘whispering’ in his ear, “She’s pretty.”

Eddie chuckles and places his hand by her ear, pretending to whisper back, “I know, it’s why I’m marrying her.”

The glare you want to give him is drowned out by the warmth that floods your entire body. “You two sharing secrets over there?” You squint your eye, pretending to be suspicious of them.

Eliza giggles, hiding in her hands. “No!”

“Then why are you whispering?” You demand, leaning in.

“We’re not!” Eliza giggles, kicking her feet as she tumbles off the couch.

“If you’re lying, I think a monster is going to come chase you,” you warn her, shaking your head exasperatedly.

Her eyes go bug wide, scared only as a four-year-old can be of a monster coming after her. “N-no, we weren’t whispering!”

You nod at her, smirking at Eddie, hoping it gets the point across. “Uh, oh, Eliza, I see a monster!”

Eddie catches on, dramatically crouching as he bares his teeth and pretends to growl. As soon as she hears it, she squeals, little footsteps taking off into the next room. You watch him run after her, suddenly completely forgetting that it wasn’t his idea to begin with.

How the hell have you just managed to fall for him even harder, you’ll never know. Maybe you want more than one with him.

You sit back comfortably on your chair, feeling completely relaxed from the sounds of their footsteps and giggles alone. Your head feels heavy falling over and suddenly facing Steve’s eyes already dead set on you. You’re startled out of your daze, head perking up quickly and hurriedly. “What?” Steve’s eyes flash up and down, making you feel a tad self conscious. “What?”

“What was that?” Steve asks, nodding towards where Eddie and Eliza are still running around, making loops around the house.

You shrug. “Just playing with your four year old?”

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. “When you two have kids, I think the world needs to watch out.”

“Kids?” You ask exasperated. “Who said anything about that?”

“You did. And him. And I know you’ve at least talked about it.” Steve answers, unwavering conviction in his voice. You’re speechless, playing with your nails as you avoid his eyes. “Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Once Eliza is put to sleep, you’re comfortably on Eddie’s lap as a knock on the door echoes through the house. Jocelyn gives a smirk as she opens the door, and a parade of shouts bursts through the door. The group of men that burst through it are all loud and jeering, their smiles too wide as their hands grab at the man beneath you, picking him up by any body part they can grab. He’s promptly lifted over their heads, all of them ignoring his shouts in protest and threats to dismember them if they don’t let go of him.

Not that you’re mad at Steve for throwing Eddie’s bachelor party onto him, just the opposite. A warning that the next time you’d be seeing him was at the altar would’ve been nice, though. You heard him shouting from the basement, a mixture of glee and anger. Steve gets up from the couch, making his way towards the door to the stairs.

You rush before he goes, blocking the way to the stairs. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

“I promise no lap dances from any of the strippers,” he vows, his face smirking at the glare that lands. “I’m kidding! It’s just drunk D&D, no strippers involved, I promise!”

You hit him on his shoulder, just a little done with his bullshit. “Better not be.”

“I mean if he starts stripping when we get to the tequila, I make no promises on stopping him.”

You stop Jocelyn who is just passing by. “You sure they’re over each other?”

She shrugs, knowing exactly what you mean from 25 years of dealing with the two of them. “Jury’s out on that one, I’m afraid,” she winks, petting Steve’s confused face.

“Make sure he gets there tomorrow on time,” you nod, patting his arm condescendingly.  

“Right, a church in St. Louisville, right?” He asks. You hit him again, harsher. “Oh my god, sometimes you are so easy to piss off.”

You shoot one last glare. “For the moment, I think I have the right to be, you know? Sort of need him there on the other side of that aisle.”

“He’ll be there, he might be a bit hungover, but he’ll be there.”

“Alright. Now go downstairs, Harrington.” Steve startles you by tugging you into a hug, taking a moment in stunned silence before returning it. “Make sure he has fun.”

You sit down on the couch, listening to the crowd of men cheer as Steve finally gets to the bottom of the steps. Your head just hits the pillow on the couch when Jocelyn’s elbows land next to your hair, wearing a smirk you swear you’ve seen on Arlo before.

“Oh, you think you’re in the clear?” She asks, assessing the look on your face. “Come on in, ladies!”

Somehow when Eddie was picked up, you completely missed how there was a whole different group who followed in, sneaking their way into the kitchen. Now the very same ladies who organized the bachelorette party rushed in, grabbing your hands up from the couch as they all squeal in glee. You didn’t know where to look or what to say, surrounded by doting hands, both friends of yours and Eddie’s alike.

“Here,” no one in particular passes you a pretty dress, something you didn’t even pack for yourself. “Put this on, we’re going on a night out!”

“In Hawkins?” You ask, aware of the single dive bar that Eddie spent his nights working at.

They all let out a chorus of “no”, all explaining simultaneously that they rented a party bus and you’ll be travelling to the closest city that has one more than only one bar.

A tight dress, makeup that only other’s hands have put on you and a bit of pregaming, strobe lights are bumping and the bass is loud in while you’re surrounded by all of the hens. You’re extra surprised Nancy and Robin have also joined in on the fun, Robin’s voice scratchy in the speakers as she sings into the karaoke microphone. Your little sister is extra giddy that she was invited to join, too deep with number the drinks she’s already had.  

You’re just glad she’s not with Arlo for the night.

To catch your breath about halfway into the trip you sit down, everyone following your lead with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The music is turned down eventually, all eyes on you.

“So, are you excited?” Skyler asks, poking your hip right next to you.

You nod shyly, a big smile taking over your face. “Of course!”

“Okay, so I just have to know, what’s the craziest thing you guys have ever done?” Bethany abruptly asks on the other side of you.

Your face twists into confusion, giving every pair of eyes staring at you exactly what was going on in your brain; what the hell is she talking about? “Crazy?” You ask, question her, wondering what they could possibly mean. “We really aren’t all that crazy.”

“Oh, come on.” Viti interrupts, crossing her arms as she sits on the seat directly across from you. “You know exactly what she’s talking about.” She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

“I happen to know his nickname the Freak is not just a name…” Nancy laughs. “If rumours from High School are anything to go by.”

Your jaw drops, laughing to compensate for the discomfort. “Why do you all want to know so badly?”

“Please.” Skyler protests, leaning forward on her elbow. “The way he looks at you? There is no possible way you guys don’t have crazy, or at least crazy good sex. Spill the beans.”

You ask for a shot glass, downing it straight away. Not that you want to entertain it, but just to protest, you’re gonna need to be a lot less sober than you are right now. “Assuming you are even close to being right,” you start, asking for another shot, “why the hell would I tell you guys?”

“Because our curiosity is peaked.” Viti explains, unwavering in the intense eye contact with you. “Spill.”

“Fine.” You give in, barely holding the laughter that bubbles out from your mouth at their joyful expressions. “Seems you guys are desperate to know, so I will tell you one little adventure. Just one.”

The music is turned down into a low melody, acting as a background when you tell the story of hooking up with him in the dressing room after just moving in with him. Their expressions are slack jawed, all on the edge of their seats as you describe the want and the adrenaline that rushes through you as your face is pushed up against the dressing room wall.

You end the story, laughing with the crowd at the circumstance in which you ended up meeting Steve Harrington. The bus stops, pulling up to the first bar for the evening. You get up easily, ignoring the way all eyes stare at you in bewilderment. “Well, you coming, or what? It is my bachelorette party!”

Robin is the first one to get up, laughter leaving her lips as she follows behind you. “C’mon, if we get her drunk enough, I’m sure that’s not the only story she’ll tell us!”

You wish you could answer the question of how you successfully made your way back into the bed of your hotel room, waking up next to the warm body that is your fiancé. The headache is splitting, waking up to the alarm on your phone that rings loud and clear. “Oh fuck.” You wince, checking the time. Luckily you still have time until your appointments, glad you opted for a later ceremony.

You go for the carry on that rests on top of your bags, knowing it holds extra strength pain killer. You take two, this hangover the worst you’ve ever felt. You refresh yourself in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and brushing your teeth.

You stumble back into the main room, greeted by Eddie sat up on the bed with a charmed look on his face. “How you doin,’” he asks, seeming to know more than he let on.

“My head hurts,” you whine, crawling into bed and wriggling your way in his arms.

“With how drunk you were last night, sweets, I bet it does,” he laughs, remembering the way he was barely unable understand the slurred words that came from your mouth. “You were so sweet, my love, and a very sloppy kisser, might I add.”

You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, the feeling getting worse as you hear his deep chuckles. “What did you see?”

Eddie is in his hotel room by 1:30, the night wrapped up early after too many rounds of shots and a rush of nostalgia from even some of the original Hellfire members joining in on the fun. They weren’t going to the wedding, but they had more than enough fun in making fun of him.

At 3:00, a few light knocks interrupt his late-night rerun. He was already yawning, his age setting in, but still waiting up for you. Through the peep hole, he sees your two best friends holding you by the arms, your eyes half open as your head sways. “Jesus,” he mumbles, rushing to unlock the chain and door lock. He opens the door with wide eyes, facing his fiancée who is giggling and hanging off her two best friends.

“Oh, thank God.” Skyler mutters, praising when Eddie opened the door. “Here, take your wife.”

You stumble forward into his arms, giggling madly when your face sees his. “You’re pretty.”

“Hi, sweets,” Eddie greets you, struggling to hold you up as your legs wriggle under him. “Have fun?”

You nod, wide smile on your face. “Kiss me.” Eddie is overtaken by how much tongue you give to him, hands hurriedly grabbing at the shirt he’s wearing, attempting to take it off and assumingly forgetting about the audience you held in the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, baby.” He unpeels your hands and stops them, pushing them down. “I think you’re a little too drunk for that, go lie down, I’ll be right there, yeah?”

You nod, slowly staggering towards the bed, landing in a starfish position right in the middle. “So, uh, thought you said you wouldn’t get her too drunk?”

If he wasn’t so concerned for your liver, he’d laugh at the way your friends’ eyes bug out of their skulls. “We tried, we really did, girl was a runaway with a credit card.”

“You didn’t think to take her card away?”

Bethany squeaks, happy for her friend, but never wanting to be on the other side of his protectiveness again. “Oh, we tried. Also, she told us some stories.”

Eddie is afraid he already knows what she means by stories. “Stories?”

“Mmmhmm. We went from begging for one to not being able to shut her up.” Skyler explains, smiling meekly at the end of her sentence.

“Remind me not to send her out on a girls’ night with you two, anymore.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need her having liver failure by the time she hits thirty.”

“I mean, it was probably the excitement and all…” Bethany tries to mend but gives up at Eddie’s glare. “We’ll pick her up at 9 for the hair appointment?”

“You do that.” Eddie scrunches his face. “Thanks for getting her back safe, but I am seriously concerned for your lack of self-preservation. Goodnight.”

He doesn’t let them respond, closing the door and locking up for emphasis.

He slowly helps you take the dress that fits you extremely well off, assisting you into a pair of pyjamas. When he tucks you in under the blankets, you grab onto his shirt, yanking him in for a kiss. “Want you.”

Eddie doesn’t need any elaboration, feeling the way your hips sloppily grinded up towards him. “I know, baby, but you are way too drunk.”

“Pretty please?” You ask, your voice and face desperate in your want.

He sighs, petting your face gently. “I can make you cum, if that would help my baby?”

You nod, mewling in agreement.

“Okay, just to help you fall asleep, yeah?” You nod again as his fingers slide their way into your soaked panties, working them as he watches you fall apart easily under him.

It took you less than a minute to cum, he didn’t even slide one in. Damn. He was actually looking forward to dipping in your wet heat. You thank him repeatedly, yawning as you turn over and fall asleep in seconds.

He then had a hard on to get rid of, somehow turned on at how even when your mind is foggy all you can do is want him.

He fell asleep with you clinging onto him like a koala bear.

Eddie switches his glance back to you, smirking at the worried expression you wear on your face. “That even when you’re incredibly inebriated, you still just want me.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “But, I did want to request that you don’t destroy your liver, I was very concerned for you.”

You peer up at him, taken aback by how much his eyes convey the same message. “Okay.” You plant a clean, sober kiss on his lips, humming when his hands pet your hair. “Only because I never want to wake up not knowing what I did ever again.”

Eddie laughs, wondering what those CCTV cameras must’ve looked like. “Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

You lie on his chest, petting the patchy hair there. “What?”

“We’re getting married today.”

You can’t help it, grinning madly at this sentence and the pride in his voice. Holy shit, you’re getting married today.

Only ten more minutes of pure bliss, sharing sweet kisses and exchanging words of excitement do you get before the cavalry arrives, both your bridesmaids and Eddie’s groomsmen storming the room together.

He kisses you fiercely as he’s shooed out the hotel room, not able to get enough in before he sees you in that dress. “Love you!”

The door is shut, but you shout it back anyway, suddenly the excitement and the joy of your day settling in.

Holy shit, you’re marrying Eddie Munson, today.  

-

Since you called almost one month ago, the only hair salon in town has been booked for you and your bridesmaids until noon. The stylist is full of questions about how you met, how long you’ve been together, what he does for work, all things you’re more than happy to explain. You didn’t ask for much, only curls that braided into a crown at the base of your head, but you didn’t want to risk spending hours on it.

She leans in as soon as your hair is done, reaching your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror. “Correct me if I’m wrong, you’re the one marrying Eddie Munson, right?”

Your eyes bug, biting your lip. “Mmhm,” you confirm, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.

“Don’t worry, small town things.” She laughs, taking the cape off you. “Your makeup artist just got here, I’ll let her take care of you in this seat.”

You thank her graciously, appreciating the companionship and conversation she provided, despite the nerves really starting to set in.

Thanks to a string of emails shared between you and the makeup artist, she has a great idea of exactly what you’re wanting, a natural look with the smallest hint of smoke. You find yourself having déjà vu when she asks the same questions, naming the groom to boot. The repetition is oddly comforting, you’d even call it soothing.

“Alright just a finishing touch, and you are all…done!” She hands you a hand mirror, and you couldn’t have done it better if you tried.

No. Seriously. You’ve tried.

Your bridesmaids all get their make up done, too, the group sitting in a circle as they talk absolute nonsense. “Dude, you’re the chilliest bride ever, we don’t have to wear matching dresses and you paid for our hair and make up? To think Skyler thought you were gonna be a bridezilla!”

You quirk your eyebrow at Skyler, who was in the middle of getting her make up done. For free. “Sky?”

“Hey, you were the one who always wanted the fairytale wedding,” Skyler rebuttals, raising her hands up in surrender.

“I said that like, a year ago!” You protest, a little defensive.

Skyler laughs, loud enough to stop all the other conversations in the salon. “Babe, you said that the week before you met your groom!”

Your eyes roll, a little embarrassed from being called out. “Yeah, okay, so before I met someone, I’m willing to give up a fairytale wedding for?”

“I mean he would’ve given you one,” your sister peeps out, having been quiet this entire time. “Pretty sure you didn’t need to give it up.”

“You have any idea how long those weddings take to plan?” You ask crossing your arms in your seat. “I was not going to wait that long.”

“Down, girl.” Bethany laughs, the rest of the salon following suit.

As soon as the stupidly massive bill is paid with a card that bares a name you’ll soon share, you’re brought back to the hotel room.

All you asked from your bridesmaids that they dress in something that makes them feel comfortable, but not something they’d wear to a night out.

As soon as they’re all dressed, they surround you in a circle of love as they help you get into your dress. Not that it requires them to help you out, but the sentiment is certainly there. Just when you thought you looked great in the dress when you initially tried it on, it’s nothing with everything tied together. God forbid someone call you out for being weepy, but you couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“You ready, Miss. Bride?” Bethany, your maid of honour asks, petting your hair as she meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Nope.” You answer, without a lick of hesitation. “Yet at the same time, I have never been more ready.”

“Usually I would harp on you for being cheesy, but that was actually really touching,” Skyler admits. You promise to yourself you wouldn’t hold the mist in her eyes against her, (no matter how hard she makes it.)

Your heel lands on the pavement of the cement, getting out of the car Bethany and Skyler took to the church. In the entrance hall of the church you meet your parents and the groomsmen, Eddie tucked away so he can’t see him, or rather, he can’t see you.

As the groomsmen pair up with the bridesmaids, (Bethany blushing as her arms are wrapped around Steve’s), your dad’s hand lands on your shoulder, kind eyes behind his round classes peering at you. “You, ok, there?”

“I’m so nervous.”

He takes these words in, nodding in consideration. “What exactly are you nervous about?”

A rush of emotion takes over you, resisting the urge to glance down the aisle to where you know Eddie’s about to start making his way down any moment now. “How badly I want this.”

“Nothing else?” You nod your head, no reluctance in it. “Well, then all you have to do is start down that aisle.”

The music you picked, a cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love, starts at 3’clock on the dot, much to the way your heart flutters.

Steve approaches you, arm around Bethany’s. “I helped Eddie sneak through, he didn’t see a single thing, and he’s already on the opposite side of the aisle waiting for you.” You nod, your eyes apparently bug wide. “Breathe. If it helps, he’s been a wreck all day.”

That helps. That helps more than he knows. “Really?”

“It was kind of annoying, honestly.” Steve answers, face twisted up. “Well, we’re about to miss our cue in the song, see you there.”

“Uh huh,” you answer, warm under the kiss he plants on your cheek.

Arm in arm with Dylan, Skyler winks at you as she soon follows.

Did your sister really have to walk the aisle with Arlo?

Your dad’s arm hooks in yours, patting your hand comfortingly. “It’s time.”

But I can’t help…falling in love with you.

There’s only about 30 or so people in the pews, but even as they all stand with their eyes on you, you’re glad there’s so few. However as soon as your eyes meet his chocolate ones on the other end, you forget all the nerves, all the anxiety, all the worry.

First, your mouth curls into an involuntary smile. Not by any means of sadness, does your smile fade and turn to tears. A laugh bubbles from your chest, the mixture of tears and laughter confusing you. Maybe it has something to do with the tears that also reflect in his eyes, and the way you can’t look away from him, but you could swear there’s only the two of you in the church.

The two of you in the world, really.

There’s a squeeze on your arm, your dad reminding you he’s with you every step on the way, but your eyes are glued in place. The closer you get to him, the wider his smile grows, yours growing as a direct answer. A tear escapes, and escape in the sense that you’ve done your best to hold them back, mouthing I love you to him.

If he didn’t have as much pride as he does, you know he’d be just as weepy as you are.

Finally, you reach the end of the aisle. “I’m proud of you,” your dad whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Now, go get married.”

You finally exchange a smile with him, quickly embracing his hug. “Thanks, dad.”

You step up to the altar, eyes raking over the sea, or pond, of people in the pews. Eliza sits with her mom in the front seat, excitedly waving to a couple that only has eyes for one another.

Finally, your hands extend to hold his, switching back to face him. Oh, just when you thought he looked handsome, it turns out he gets impossibly more so when wearing a suit. A gorgeous, black suit, accentuating his slim hips and his hair loosely gelled down.

His eyes rake over you, eyes unable to stay in one place on you. “You look beautiful.” Eddie whispers, voice deep and breathless.

You sigh, another tear leaving your eye. “Unfairly handsome.”

“You been crying?” He asks, holding your face to wipe them away.

Your lean your head into his hand, closing your eyes in sweet relief. “You’ve been, too,” you sigh, noting the single tear streaked down his face.

The person you’ve chosen to marry you has no true significance, and Steve had initially suggested he do it, but who cared. However, the pastor has known Eddie since he was a teenager, more than happy to marry him to you.

His words fade into the background, a few verses about love and anecdote or two about it in his speech. Truthfully, nothing matters but his eyes on yours and the way his gaze makes you feel. 

A chorus of laughter echoes through the church, catching your attention, finally. “Seems we you got back again.” When you both look at him confused, he chuckles deeply. “We understand you’ve written your own vows?” You look at one another, but there’s no hint of any shame. “Eddie, you may go first.”

“I wish that I know how much that one shower would change my life,” Eddie starts, his thumb rubbing over your fingers.  “I got in, stressing about the shop, then I got downstairs, and I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Oh, fuck. “I have to be honest, I know you keep saying you’re lucky, but I really am the lucky one that you saw anything in this old schmuck. Everyday I have done nothing but the best to feel deserving of your love, to make sure you aren’t taken for granted.”

The tears that stream down your face are uncontrollable. “Sometimes I don’t think I have any right to feel any right to feel as protective or possessive over you as I am, until you surprise me by saying something that puts words in my mouth, the same ones I’d have been thinking all that time. To love this much and to be loved the same in return is a miracle that I will never take advantage of, my love. You will never feel taken advantage of, never worry about money or shelter, and never worry about my loyalty to you.

“I love you. I will never be ashamed of it, I will never ask more of you than you can give. You have already given me everything you have, whether I deserve it or not, and I will give you the same, every time. To be honest, I have marvelled over what to say to you, staring at a blank page. All I can say is that you will never doubt my love for you. Ever.”

God, your makeup must be completely ruined by now from the tears and the snot. Halfway through Bethany came in clutch, offering tissues from her brassiere. Your ears could’ve been tricking you, but you swear up and down there are sniffles echoing from the audience.

“Now that we all had a chance to collect our selves, our beautiful bride, your turn.” You nod, blinking in surprise when you notice there’s a wetness in his eyes, as well.

“That’s gonna be hard to follow,” you laugh, the witnesses laughing with you. “Eddie. My love. To say it is a miracle that I love you this much and you love me just as much is an understatement. It’s not just a miracle, it’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I had. That day also started differently for me, in ways I still regret to this day,” you say, looking behind him to where Dylan stands. “You come downstairs with your wet hair and, well, you, and it is true more than I could describe that I did fall in love with you in that moment, too.” His tears aren’t as messy as yours was, but Steve comes in clutch with a tissue as well.

“Every day I’m with you, all other fears seem to fade and disappear. Nothing else matters, I can truly get through everything with you by my side. It’s no lie that I am outrageously attracted to you, but I don’t think anyone could blame me for it.” He laughs at this, rolling his eyes in dismissal. “It’s the only part of my attraction though, I will deny anyone that could even dare to insinuate otherwise. Until I met you, I never knew I could feel this loved, this happy or satisfied by anyone’s mere existence, alone.

With you, I am happy. Even when I’m not. With you, I am both protected and taken care of. The way you protect me, I will do the same. The way you take care of me, I will do the same. Your sweet selflessness will never be taken advantage of, in any such way. From the moment I saw you, Edward Munson, I knew. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” It wouldn’t have been too alien to guess that it was Eddie who said it, but the very sniffles and exclamation came from behind him, Steve using his suit jacket to wipe a tear away.

“You okay, bud?” Eddie asks, also using his tissue.

“Just marry the girl, already.”

“Well, we do have some papers to sign.” The pastor escorts you to where your legal papers sit, names written for everything except the date and final signitures.

Steve signs, followed by Bethany, both sporting shiny eyes. She winks her green eyes at you, handing you the pen. When you sign yours, Eddie places a kiss on your neck, sweet and gentle. When he signs his, your fingers cling to the silk material of his jacket.

“Well, I think you two have seemed to wait long enough. I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride.” Eddie doesn’t even bother waiting until the end of the sentence to grab your face and plant a kiss on your lips, knocking the air out from your lungs from the love that surrounds you. He doesn’t care about his audience, barely takes note of the applause that breaks out, kissing you in a way that you normally wouldn’t dare in front of your parents on a good day.

Who fucking cares, you’re announcing your love to the world, they’ll get over it.

The flashes of Jeremy Byer’s camera is in your face as you walk down the aisle of the church together, hand in hand with him, fingers nearly losing feeling in your fingers as he grips onto you tightly.

When you stop in the church corridor, all that can be felt is a sense of celebration. You did it. All you need to do now, is party. “Oh my god, finally.”

He chuckles, wrapping you in his arms. “Can I tell you something, love?” You nod, inhaling his sweet cologne. “The moment I saw you in this pretty dress I got rock hard.”

You lick your lips, eyeing him up and down. “You don’t think your words made me absolutely drenched, Ed?”

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, kissing you sweetly again.

There wasn’t a moment to escape for a few hours, whisked off to an area surrounded by beautiful flowers and greenery to take pictures, surrounded by the wedding party. On the phone, all you communicated is that you needed someone to take pictures of the wedding party for portraits as well as individual shots of you and Eddie, and Jeremy was a complete gem.

As soon as the portraits are over, every portrait where you look in his eyes not feeling a hint of cheesiness or falsehood, you are to head back to the hotel conference room for a reception.

Traditional receptions usually hold a first dance, speeches, embarrassing moments, cake cutting ceremonies, etc. To be completely honest you don’t trust your best friend or his to make speeches that won’t embarrass the two of you completely. And rather than sit for dull speeches, you told Eddie all you wanted was to celebrate with him and a DJ playing all the songs the two of you love, the wild combination it is.

You told your dad you would dance with him for the song that would’ve been your father-daughter dance, but nearly no traditions kept up for the reception.

The hotel offered a few plates of entrees for your guests before the DJ announces you two as a married couple something you accepted with a small external deposit. Steve oversaw ordering 20 pizzas in varying flavours, the very thing you’ll be doing instead of cake or dinner.

You hold your new husband’s hand in excitement as the DJ announces your arrival, the first announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Munson to some dad-rock song that he personally requested.

Well, the only thing you really splurged on for the reception was the open bar.

You pet the curls at Eddie’s neck, swaying together to the first slow song that the DJ played. Your lips are already kiss-bruised from your long day spent kissing him, but it doesn’t possibly prevent you kissing him any more, every single one he gives you somehow making you dizzier than last.

“Baby.” He grunts, getting your attention. He nods behind you, gesturing to the left. You turn you head to face Arlo and Viti, her eyes shining bright as she stares up at him, dancing even slower than you were.

“I’m gonna have to accept that, aren’t I?” You say, noting the special way her face is cradled by his hand and the way she leans into it.

“Looks like it, sweets.” Eddie says, his eyes still on you when you look back to him.

You sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Hey, I gotta get going, I’m getting exhausted.” You look over to face Wayne, grinning in his plaid and slacks.

“Of course, thanks for coming.” Eddie says, giving him a hug. “So glad you could meet her.”

“Are you kidding, Ed? With those vows? Next time I see you, you better warn me before you make me cry like that.” Wayne laughs winking. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

“Love you, Wayne.” You say, grabbing him in for a big hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”

Wayne hugs him, too, gripping onto him tightly. “Thanks for the open bar, you two.”

The way you surround yourself with your friends and family, dancing up and down as the music bumps, the lights down with strobe lights flashing. In the middle of it, Eddie starts kissing your neck hands roaming and making you feel everything.

Eddie tugs on your hand as he leads you to a crowded hallway, a dead end with nowhere to go to. Your back collides with the wall as he kisses you, feverously and deliciously hungry for you as you are for him. “Oh, sweet love, do you know how crazy you make me in that pretty dress?” His hands hurriedly make their way under the skirt of your dress, ruffling it up as he presses himself against you. “I have been mercilessly hard since the moment you started coming down that aisle, baby.”

“You gonna fuck me in the hallway, Eddie?” You ask, breathless, “Can’t hold back that badly?”

“From the moment I first kissed you, I haven’t been able to hold back from you, love. You think I can hold back when you drive me as crazy as you do?” His kisses trail down your neck, nibbling and simultaneously inhaling your scent. “My wife, my gorgeous, lovely, beautiful, bride.”

You gasp, head tilted up as he effortlessly lifts you by your hands lifting under your thighs. “Need your cock, Ed.”

“Yeah, you need me to fuck you ruthlessly, my love?”

You nod hands shaky as you attempt to undo his dress pants. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie yanks your panties down your thighs, marveling at the lacy fabric. “Fuck, I need that sweet, tight, pussy.”

Before you knew it, Eddie was lining himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, hurry up, before someone comes for looking for us.”

“You think I care if someone walks in on me fucking my wife?” Eddie asks, and his question sounds genuine. “I couldn’t care less if someone walks in on us, at least they could get a good show, we could give ‘em someone to be jealous of, yeah?”

Hopelessly, you feel impossibly more turned on by his dirty perfect words.  “Then give me your big cock, Ed. Please.”

Eddie pushes into you, filling you completely. “Oh, there’s that cock drunk face I’ve been wanting to see.”

“Eddie, cock, so big!”

He doesn’t waste a second bucking into you, harsh and ruthlessly perfect. “Somehow your pussy gets better every time I fuck you, sweets. How tight you are, how perfect, oh, if I didn’t love it so much I would say it needs to be illegal.”

“The only thing that should be illegal, Ed, is how good you are with words.” Eddie laughs, hot breath down your neck. “God, you make me so happy…”

“Can’t wait to see you big and pregnant, sweets.” Eddie sighs, repeatedly bucking into you. “Wanna fill you with my babies.”

“Want your babies.” You gasp.

“Where the hell did they go?” Down the hall, you hear someone but it doesn’t occur that it even needs to matter. “God, need to put a bell on those two—oh my god!”

Your head turns to the noise, seeing your best friend standing in the hall with her eyes covered by her hands. “Either stay and enjoy the show,” Eddie stops to gasp, “or take off back to the hall.”

“I-I’m so sorry…I’ll see you in the dancing room,”

You giggle, tugging him in for a big kiss. “Sweet girl.” He laughs, starting to fuck you even harder.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie.” You beg, nails digging into the hair on his neck. “Wanna be filled with you.”

“I am going to keep you good and full on the honeymoon, my good whore,” Eddie mutters and you can feel him start to fall apart. “Gonna fuck you everywhere I can, put on a good show for everyone.”

You tighten around him, turned more than ever by his words. “I love you, Mr. Munson.”

He smiles, colliding his forehead against yours. “I love you, more, Mrs. Munson.”

You don’t know what it is about your new name, but it’s what gets the both of you off, Eddie’s cum filling you up deliciously.

Bethany avoids your eye as soon as you get into the room, and you’re sure she’ll get over it, not like you haven’t heard her and her ex-boyfriend many times.

“Hey, heard you traumatized your maid of honour.” Steve laughs, clutching a slice of pizza in one hand, and a drink of whiskey in the other.

You yank the piece, suddenly aware of how little you’ve eaten. “I thought she’d know better to walk in on us by now.” You laugh, taking a large bite.

Steve checks his watch, the very same hand you just yoinked the pizza from. “Doesn’t your flight take off in about the next three-ish hours?”

Eddie checks his, gulping in answer. “Oh, shit.” You check it with him, having a flight out that same night. “Should we get going, love?”

You nod, placing your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Everyone applauds as you walk out in a sweet white dress, ready to take off to Cancun with your husband, walking down the lane surrounded by love.

Everyone gives you a hug, wishing you well on your long honeymoon.

“Don’t expect to hear from us!” You call, getting in the car that Eddie ordered.

-

The heat from sun is beautiful, sandals flopping in sync as you walk from the taxi that brought you to the hotel. “Jesus, Eddie.” You mutter, looking at your extravagant surroundings. “You did not need to spend this much on the hotel.”

“Well, get used to being spoiled, baby girl.” He mutters, leading you to the check in desk.

The check in attendant smiles sweetly, covertly putting one side of her hair behind one of her ears. She speaks with a thick Mexican accent, giving her best customer service smile. “Hi, checking in?”

“Yes, under the name Munson, please.” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Oh, the honeymoon suite!” She exclaims, her smile brightening. “Well, to start, congratulations on your nuptials, and every request is completely fulfilled, no problem. As asked, we will not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary, and we have already booked the spa for your wife.”

“Spa?” You ask, eyebrow tilting towards him. “I love the sound of that.”

“Knew you would.”

“And you have a dinner reservation tonight at 7. Any questions, feel free to call the front desk, any time of the day,” she says, handing the card with the room number.

The floor level with your room only has a few rooms. Eddie taps his card on the door to open it, opening to a room with a damn kitchen suite and a separate room for the bed. “What the hell did you spend?” You ask him, mouth gapping open as your bags slip out of your bags.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, love.” Eddie walks to you, hands caressing your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. “C’mon, we have king bed I want to take advantage of.”

“What was that about no interruptions?” You ask him, petting his curls.

“You think we’re leaving this room for the next six hours?” he asks, lightly pushing you towards the double doors that open to the bedroom.

His words make you literally insane, wanting him more than you ever have. “W-what?”

“Baby, I am going to absolutely ravish you for so long you won’t even remember your own name.” He claims, already pulling the zipper down your back. “But you will remember your new last one.”

Your back is laid on the bed, Eddie pulling your panties down, biting on the second pair of lacey lingerie you wear for him in less than 24 hours. “Sweet girl, look how soaked you are for me.”

“Need you.” You grunt, anticipating Eddie finally tasting you from the feel of his hot breath on your pussy, sending shivers down your spine as Eddie places your legs over his shoulders.

Eddie kisses you, nose nuzzling in your intoxicating scent, his hilted nose hitting right up against your clit. “Fuck, are you wet, baby.”

“Can you blame me, I just married the hottest man alive!” You moan, heels pulling him in.

“My wife is the prettiest, and I will be spending my life making sure everyone around me knows how smoking hot you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meal to eat.”

Your hands fly into his short curls, lying restlessly as Eddie devours you. Your first orgasm takes over your body, invading every sense with mind numbing pleasure.

By the third one invades your body, everything is too much, feels too good, “Fuck! Eddie I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can, my girl, of course you can. Remember what I said about making you forget your name? I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He laughs, thumb circling your clit.

By the fifth orgasm you eventually learn that not even begging will stop him if he can help it. “You got a safe word, use it.”

His fingers hook in your warmth, driving you to another one, to which this point you’ve lost count. You swear you’re speaking to him, but in all truth, it is all incoherent. You’re trying to tell him how much you love him, and how good he makes you feel, but Eddie can’t make a single word out of it.

“What’s your name, hmm?” Eddie asks, spitting on your pussy dirtily.

You tell him, gasping for air.

“I see, still not enough yet.”

It takes 11 orgasms to finally drive you to the point where tears are falling from your eyes, both in happiness and straight pleasure. Eddie’s face is straight up soaked in you, the slick drenching his face like a beard. “Alright, beautiful wife, what’s your name?”

Your head lifts up, loopy at the idea that you even had a name to begin with. All that comes out is desperate gasps.

“There we go.” He mutters, crawling up your body. “Think you can handle my cock, or do you think you’re done, baby.”

Your hand reaches out for him, tugging him by his holiday shirt. You can’t communicate, all words left your brain, but you do know you still want his cock.

“Of course, I will still fuck my good girl.” Eddie answers, wiping the tears that fell down your face away.

You’re limp as he fucks into you, hands gripping your hips ruthlessly. All he can do is mutter how much he loves you, and how good of a girl you just were for him, and he could watch you fall apart all day, especially after marrying you.

He fills you up again, arms wrapping from behind you as you fell straight asleep, still muttering sweet nothings and wishes of his love.

-

The first thing that happens when you wake up, is your knees collapse from under you when you try to get up to use the bathroom.

After the mind numbing pleasure he just gave you, you suppose it only made sense. As you brush your teeth, he walks up behind you, his naked torso against your bare back as he kisses your neck gently. “Feel good?”

You laugh, almost choking on the toothpaste in your mouth. “Yes, baby.” You nod, spitting it into the sink. “It’s not past 7, is it?”

He turns you around to face him, giving you a sweet look of love. “Nope. Actually it’s in about an hour. Get ready, sweet stuff.”

“Actually, one minute.” You giggle, grabbing him by the hand before he can leave the bathroom.

“Hmm?” He asks, face questioning.

“Just need to do one thing…” You couldn’t help it, knowing he spent the better part of two hours just going down on you before you napped together. You get on your knees.

“What—oh, oh! Oh, fuck.”

After being bent over the sink in the bathroom, Eddie and you make your way into the front of the restaurant.

The host leads the way, sitting you in a corner of the dining room.

Eddie orders you a sweet cocktail and him a bourbon, eyeing you over the menu.

You returned the favour, making him cum twice before he finally begged to just fuck you.

The dinner is filled with your hopes and dreams, things you’ve been too worried to tell one another, scared of coming across too much.

Eddie wants to raise three kids with you. You agree, confessing how hard you fell for him after seeing him chase Eliza. He doesn’t plan on moving, but might if you asked him to.

You’re only working because you’re scared of relying on him, or making him feel like a bank. He doesn’t care, you can work or not, it’s completely up to you. Sometimes you worry about him being afraid to tell you when he is feeling too achy, joints too sore, or is not ready for something. Truly, honestly, Eddie is more worried about you thinking he’s too old for you.

It was never a worry to begin with, despite the 22-year age gap.

If you could stop asking yourself how it’s possible to keep falling for someone harder, you would.

When Eddie takes the dress you wear off, he’s whispering sweet promises, somehow even sweeter than the vows he told you.

It was two more rounds before you fell asleep in his arms once more.

-

Camille works her front desk, filling in some paperwork and starting her opening shift duties. “Hi Linda!” She says, greeting one of the maids who has been working there 15+ years. “Morning, Linda! Any updates?”

Linda leans in, as she always does when she has hot gossip. “Were you the one that checked in that newly wed couple yesterday?”

“Uh, Munsons on the eighth floor?” She asks, remembering the way he touched her ass so brazenly in front of her. “Yeah, I remember them.”

“Well every maid has heard them over the last 24 hours, they are relentless with one another.”

Camille resists from laughing, eyes bugging out of her head. “Like…?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She looks both ways before leaning in again.

“And trust me when I say they are loud.”

“Well, I guess I know why they didn’t want to be interrupted,” She laughs, barely holding back in laughter.

-

The hot sand lies underneath your towel, one foot bent, the other extended as your sunglasses barely shade you from the sun. One ear pod is in your ear, the other in Eddie’s, listening to a sweet mixture of both your music taste.

Eddie lies almost directly next to you, body in direct touch with yours. You’ve been there for barely an hour, sun cascading down on you. “Hey sweet thing,” Eddie starts, turning towards you, leaning on his elbow.

You take the earpiece out, lifting your head to look at your smoking hot husband. “Hmm?”

“C’mon, we’re going for a swim.” Eddie says, holding your hand out for your earpiece. “C’mon.”

You hand it to him, letting the dress you wear over your bathing suit fall off your body. “It’s unfair how hot you are.” He says, eyes appreciating you blatantly.

One of the only things you’ve kept from your relationship with your now stepson, (still weird), is the bathing suit you wore when you met Eddie. You made sure he didn’t see it until this moment, and it was worth the wait. Even as you run straight to the water, you’re utterly aware of how Eddie is chasing you, giggles invading the otherwise quiet beach as you splash into the water.

As you swim together, you can see the sweat that beads on his skin from the hot sun. You can’t help but splash him, enjoying every moment with him in the eerily blue water. “You like my swimsuit?”

He grabs you so your legs easily wrap around his waist, lips meeting the salt on his skin from the sweat. “Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing, baby.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

He laughs, arms pulling you in tightly, so you feel the boner in his trunks. “You don’t think I don’t remember what you were wearing when I first met you, sweets?” One hand slips to your bikini bottom sliding it over. “Those pink strings stayed etched in my mind for days.”

One finger slides in, Eddie watching your reaction carefully. “Been thinking of ways to make you fall apart on a public beach ever since, and this is just one of them.”  He feels you tighten up around him in response, a smile slowly creeping on the face. “Making you cum in the water, no one will be the wiser if you keep quiet.”

You gulp, placing your head in the crook of his neck. “Oh, fuck, daddy.”

“I know you love to be watched, hmm, my little minx?”

You nod, barely holding in any of the gasps that leave your throat. “Love people to see you like this, I just know you do.”

“Gonna make you cum, then we’re gonna fuck hidden away from the rest of them, yeah?” You nod, nails digging into his shoulder.

The feeling takes over you, withering in his arms as you try to stay quiet. The sloshing of the water around the two of you certainly doesn’t help, however. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, if I didn’t know water sex actually feels terrible, I’d have put it in by now.” Eddie muses, still grinding his tent against your cunt, still uncovered.

Eddie eventually finds a little secluded area sort of by the water, yet somewhere people might still be able to cross accidentally. His cock his perfect as it hits the spot repeatedly, and he doesn’t even give up after the first time he fills you up. “Listen to you whine for me like a little slut.” He moans, untying the strings on your neck to reveal your tits. “I bet everyone on that beach can hear you.”

At this point you didn’t even care. “Let them listen.”

He laughs, sighing into your neck. “Whatever you say, pretty girl. Just keep taking this cock, let the chips fall where they may.”

-

It’s a miracle your stuff wasn’t stolen off the beach.

Eddie sends you to the spa, demanding you get everything and anything that tickled your fancy. When asked why he didn’t want to follow you, he gives the vaguest explanation in the world, and unfortunately he’s stubborn enough to wait until you give in.

So, a full body massage, a pedicure, sitting in a mud bath just because you can, and you come back to the hotel room feeling more pampered than you knew was possible. “Hey, Ed—” You stop short as soon as the red flower petals that lead you to the bedroom come into sight. “What--?”

All you can do is follow the giggles that radiate from the room.

The double doors open to him, sitting next to a table with a supper on it. “How you feelin, sweets?”

“Pampered.” You answer honestly, your feet twisting nervously.

“Good.” Eddie answers, picking up a dress you knew he had bought in light of being the only one to ever see you wear it. It’s…revealing…to say the least. “Put that on, then come sit down with me.” As his eyes rake down your body, lucky isn’t even close to how you’re feeling. “Man, I’m good.”

“What’s all this for?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?”

You laugh, sitting when he pulls the chair out for you. “No, I’m just—”

“I get it.” Eddie offers, sitting across the small table. “It feels a bit much, to me, too. But man, I need you to know how much I love you, sometimes or I will melt.”

Do I even need to tell you how the evening ended? I’ll give you a hint; love bites that cover your neck, passed your breast, and trailing all the way to your pussy.

-

“Since when do you dance, anyway?” You ask him after he tells you the purpose of your walk for the night.

“Since grinding against you in a club was an option.” Eddie answers, laughter bubbling behind in his voice.

He leads you through a crowd of people dancing to a Latin beat, heavy on horns and percussion. He doesn’t give you a chance to even hesitate, his fingers strong on your exposed hips from the cut out in your dress, his knee planting itself in between your legs.

The heat makes his curls frazzle, the constant salt on his skin sweet. From the last two weeks spent in the sun, he’s starting to get a sun-kissed glow. His hand intertwines itself into your hair, tugging on the scalp as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, somehow still moving his hips against yours simultaneously.

“This is the best feeling.” He mutters, not expanding any more.

“What?” You mewl, your hips truly starting to give in to the beat.

“Knowing I have the hottest girl here.” He states, as if it’s a straight fact.

“Imagine how I feel.” You state, knowing for a fact no one even compares to his level.

Eddie turns you around, mouth kissing against your neck as your hand lands on the curls that now are surprisingly already getting some growth again.

He can’t stop his wondering hands. He never can. As if he has the strength to. They never actually touch anything, but they do grab at your ass, your thighs, even feel your tit up. Eddie loves the heat that radiates your pussy, a signal of how fantastic he makes you feel, and how much you want him, no matter where you are.

As you hop bar to bar, drink to drink, dance to dance, by the time you stumble back into the hotel room together you’re both so revved up, you don’t even bother taking your clothes off.

Your reputation throughout the hotel is how intensely you feel for one another, how badly you love each other, and usually they’d just chop it up to newlyweds, but this was a different intensity. Most of the maids haven’t even seen your faces, but they know for a plenty of intimate details just from cleaning on the same floor.

There’s not a single noise complaint, as the floor of the newlywed suites are basically made to make it your oasis.

By the end of the third week, you get homesick for your little house with him, homesick for your own bed. Eddie has spent all the time in the world ravishing you wherever he can, and it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend a single second on your knees in a public setting.

Camille, a woman who has spent the three weeks recommending local restaurants and helping Eddie with his little schemes, helps you check out and speaks to you over the desk as if you were an old friend. “By the way, I hope you know you two have gained quite the reputation here. Have a safe flight.”

Eddie’s truck is in the driveway when you get home, Steve promising to bring it back as one of his many best-man duties.

As your back hits your back, it’s better than ever to be home, glancing up at the popcorn ceiling. As you’re lying down, you notice a slight ache in your nipples that isn’t very normal for you. No mind, you would grab a test from under the sink and take it just in case.

Is…is that two lines? Is that two lines?

That’s definitely two lines.

“Shit.”

-

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake @lemonmintseltzer @joannamuns9n

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

[wheatnoodle]

i think steve should save the lives of tommy and carol next season. maybe they couldn’t get out of town cuz they really weren’t great in school either, and they’re total “peaked in high school” adults now.

and the apocalypse is goin wild, upside down creatures are in hawkins. tommy and carol have been backed against a building in the center of town by a demodog, tommy tries to put himself between carol and the dog but let’s be real, he’s shitting himself.

cuz what the fuck is this thing and what the fuck is he supposed to do? all he wants is to use carol as a human shield and scream, but he’s gotta be the man.

the demodog lunges. they scream, awaiting the chomp of teeth. it never comes. instead, there’s a swoosh through the air, a disgusting squelching as something comes in contact, and a whimper of something inhuman in pain.

tommy can’t look. his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s shaking like a leaf. carol’s nails release the piercing grip on his arm and she gasps.

“steve?!” and that’s what gets him to look.

because there’s no way.

and yet, there he is.

steve harrington who runs away from fights. steve harrington who can’t throw a punch but sure knows how to take one. king steve who let a girl ruin his reputation and then went missing the same week as eddie ‘the freak’ munson of all people.

steve harrington who is now coated in a layer of hellspawn-creature-demon-dog blood and brains (if they even have brains) and continuing to swing a bat full of nails like he gets paid to do it.

and when it’s dead and over and the street is quiet except for steve’s light panting, tommy speaks up.

“harrington…what the fuck happened to you?” it’s barely a whisper, all breathy and full of confusion, maybe even awe. there’s so much he wants to say, needs to say, to ask. but that’s all his mouth can come up with.

and steve looks between tommy and carol. his eyes are full of something close to remembered betrayal. it hurts somewhere deep to see but it’s better than the look of shell shock that took over when instincts kicked in and told him to protect, to kill where needed when he ran over. steve’s quick to school his expression into a politeness you save for someone you once knew. he scratches at a thick scar banding around his neck. god, what the fuck happened?

“carry fire with you. a lighter and hairspray works pretty well,” steve says and even his voice has changed.

“stevie, tell me you’re okay. and where the hell you ran off to?! please?!”

speaking of munson, steve’s ears perk up at the sound of the walkie on his hip coming to life. he takes it off, brings it to his lips.

“i’m okay. got a little sidetracked but i’m leaving benny’s now,” he says into the walkie. he gives a the pair against the wall a curt nod before turning and walking back to the street.

“jesus h christ, at least take me with you on your side quests, we die together, sweetheart, you know that!”

tommy shares a glance with carol and sighs in relief.

“maybe i should’ve dated him instead,” carol says and looks off after where he left.

#stranger things #steve harrington #tommy hagan #carol perkins #eddie munson #steve harrington fic #steve harrington headcanon #stranger things fic

[the-badger-mole]

Facultative

It seemed like every day of travel got longer. Even now with Katara and Zuko coming to a peaceful resolution to their issues, the tension hadn't broken over the group.

"Once we get to Ember Island, it'll get better," Suki promised them all. "My troop got antsy like this when we were on duty, too. We just need a break, that's all." This was met with grumbles of disbelief, but Aang was grateful that someone other than him was trying to be the voice of optimism. That role usually fell to Katara, but she had been quiet and withdrawn since she and Zuko had come back from finding Yon Rah. Oddly enough, only Zuko seemed to be able to get more than a few words from her at a time. When they stopped for rest, they would often end up slightly away from the group, falling into hushed conversations, broken up by Zuko occasionally running to get her a drink or a snack, or to handle a chore Katara usually did. She assured her friends she was fine, though. Just tired.

That was the over all sentiment of the rest of the group, too. Even Appa was showing signs of strain. Aang scratched his friend's neck with a concerned frown. They would have to rest that night. They'd all been hoping to make it to Ember Island by nightfall, but Aang knew he couldn't keep pushing his flying bison the he had been. He told the rest of his friends and was met with groans and complaints, and then grudging acceptance. Aang steered Appa toward a small island. It was barely big enough for the name, but there were shrubs and a grasses and small trees, hinting at fresh water nearby.

Once everyone had slid down from Appa's saddle, Aang set to making him more comfortable. He loosened the saddle, promising Appa that he would remove it completely once they made it to Ember Island and wouldn't have to leave for a while. Then, while the others set up camp, Aang wandered around with Appa, looking for a good place for him to graze. Appa stopped every so often to munch on some of the grass growing up from the greyish soil, but he didn't seem terribly interested in it. At one point, Appa stopped under a tree. It was a youngish tree, with tender green branches. This Appa eyed hungrily, but Aang gasped and nudged Appa gently.

"No, Appa," he said, pointing at one of the branches his friend had been eyeing. There was a bird's nest with new hatched chicks chirping loudly. The mother bird flew in and stood on the edge of the nest, trilling angrily at Appa. Aang chuckled and nudged Appa again, urging him gently to move on. But Appa didn't move to Aang's surprise. Then to Aang's horror, Appa leaned up, mouth opened wide, and chomped down on the branch, nest, chicks, and bird all. Before Aang could say another word, Appa began chewing, silencing the muffled tweets and chirps. Aang gagged at the sound of crunching, knowing that some of it was bones.

"Appa..." Aang gasped. Appa turned one large brown eye on his boy and kept chewing, thoroughly unbothered. Aang felt a flush creep up his neck and to his cheeks. He grabbed Appa's reins and tugged him back to camp. "That was bad, Appa! I can't believe you did that! Come on, we're going back to camp, and you can eat the grass where I can see you."

Appa groaned in protest, tugging against his reins trying to get back to the tasty tree, but Aang was persistent, and Appa didn't want to hurt him. He allowed the boy to lead him back to camp where there was little to eat except the bland, dry grass. The others looked up in surprise when Aang arrived back, still scolding Appa.

"What happened?" Sokka asked. Aang, still fuming, tied Appa's reins to a boulder.

"He ate a nest of birds!" Aang told his friends, outraged. When they exchanged confused glances, Aang rolled his eyes. Of course, they wouldn't get it. Aang could smell the meat they'd begun roasting for dinner.

"Appa is a vegetarian," Aang said, by way of explanation. More glances went through the group, this time more uncomfortable than confused.

"Well, sure," Katara said hesitantly. "For the most part." Aang turned to her, stunned.

"What do you mean for the most part?" he demanded.

"Well..." Katara shrugged, looking at her friends for help. "Well, it's just that Appa has eaten meat before."

"No he hasn't!" Aang scoffed. "Appa's been a vegetarian for his whole life!"

"I've seen him eat meat before," Katara told Aang gently. "Many times."

"Appa's been sneaking meat and you didn't tell me?" Aang gaped at Katara in horror.

"He hasn't been sneaking it," Katara said. "Last week he ate a rock squirrel. He caught it right where I was setting up my tent."

"I saw him catch and eat a tree hare," Sokka offered helpfully. "He's actually a pretty good hunter for his size."

"He catches a lot of animals just grazing on grass," Toph said with a shrug. "I thought you knew."

"Of course, I didn't know!" Aang shouted. "If I knew, I would have put a stop to it!"

"Aang," Zuko spoke up. "You do know that most animals eat meat, at least occasionally, right? Even the ones that live off of plants eat meat sometimes."

"Not flying bison!" Aang insisted. "Not Appa." He turned to his friend, who was grazing lazily. Appa didn't seem to have a care at all. Not about eating meat, not about how betrayed Aang felt. Aang stood watching him in stunned silence. Then he felt a warm slender arm slip around his shoulders.

"Hey," Katara said gently. "Why don't you come sit and calm down. I made you lentils and wild rock tubers." Aang allowed her to steer him away from Appa. Toph went in behind him and freed Appa from the boulder. He grunted at her gratefully before lumbering over to a small, green bush to graze. Suki and Sokka stood behind Aang, as if to shield him from the sight while Katara and Zuko gave him his dinner and a cup of water.

"You want a blanket?" Katara asked. Aang shook his head, but Katara went over to find one just in case. Zuko patted his back in a way that was intended to be comforting, but just felt stiff and awkward.

"I know how you feel about eating meat," he said. "But you have to understand that you not eating meat is a choice, and animals don't have the ability to make that choice. When they eat, it's based on instinct.

"Appa's not just some animal," Aang held stubbornly.

"I know he's not," Zuko said. "He's your friend, and he's very smart compared to a lot of other animals. But he is still an animal. It's his nature to eat what he needs when he needs it. It doesn't change anything about him."

Aang disagreed, but he knew he'd find no support among his friends. The problem, he convinced himself, was that Appa was now living with meat eaters. Aang could admit to himself that he, too, got curious about meat from time to time. No wonder Appa had, too. All Aang needed to do was keep a closer eye on his friend and keep him from making poor choices. After all, the monks had told him that flying bison, like airbenders, got their abilities from keeping pure. He would keep Appa away from meat for his own good.

Across the clearing, Appa had moved onto a new bush. This one had the most deliciously tart berries. Appa paused midchew and nosed the ground beneath the bush. He could smell a seagrouse nest nearby. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd get another bird before they had to leave the island.

#atla #appa #aang learns the concept of facultative herbivores #circle of life #zutara #mostly in subtext but still #inspired by a casual geographic video

[oh-stars]

Healthy Secrets

Love is being late to work because you can’t ever say goodbye in a reasonable amount of time

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1012 words | CW: N/A | Rating: T

--

Marnie hates him. Steve can’t really blame her. The practice opens at 8:30 am sharp and for the other psychiatrists that’s a non-starter. Well. It’s not a rule, officially, at least, but Marnie’s a stickler. Her schedule may as well be a bible, dictating their lives and holding everyone to the highest standards. 

Except Steve. He uses the schedule as… a suggestion, a guide really. 

See why Marnie hates him? 

He tries to make it up to her. Honest. Steve is diligent about his appointments and doesn’t mind staying later than the others. He makes a point to keep fresh flowers in her vase at the desk (a tradition he’d started on behalf of her late husband) and he takes her out for lunch twice a month. 

None of that even softens her glare when Steve walks into the clinic with only five minutes to spare before his first appointment. Every day, like clockwork. 

Look. Steve’s a punctual guy. Really! Any other time he’d be sweating his balls off trying to get there on time or going ninety to nothing – always racing the clock. On weekends, he’s the one chomping at the bit to make it to brunch plans or hounding Eddie to get a move on so they can beat holiday traffic when they make plans to visit Wayne. 

Mornings are his weakness. 

He wakes up, twisted in sheets with his leg between Eddie’s and their arms splayed over one another. Eddie’s face is almost always close to his, either sharing the same pillows or nuzzling up to Steve’s collarbones. Their comforter is a delightfully heavy weight, although it creates a furnace beneath its shelter – one Steve never wants to leave. Can you blame him? He wakes up to his own dash of heaven every morning, just himself and the love of his life in the sanctuary they built together. 

His alarm goes off at six, then again thirty minutes later. He’s awake at the first trill, mind already racing as his itinerary for the day speeds through his mind. Steve spends these thirty minutes peacefully holding Eddie in his arms as they brace for the day. Or well, he does because Eddie never wakes to the first alarm, his heavy snores blocking out everything but Steve’s touch and his dreams. 

A bleary eye will peel open at the second blasting. Eddie’s glare lightened by the pile of curls on his head and the way he wiggles closer to Steve. “Five more minutes?” he says, syllables barely distinguishable. 

And Steve agrees. 

Eddie could ask Steve to fall off the edge of the world and Steve would do it, would sacrifice his own body if it meant Eddie would be happy, alive, and safe. 

So he sets a timer for five minutes, then another five that Eddie deems necessary and is exclusively dedicated to their good morning kiss. 

It’s arguably the best ten minutes of his day. 

“We have to get up,” Steve says, heavy limbs pulling away with the stubbornness of an elephant. 

Eddie whines, but pulls away to grab his pajama pants off the floor. “Why must you have a grown-up job?” 

Steve shrugs and quickly heads to his dresser for his gym clothes. 

They go through the motions – Steve goes for a quick run while Eddie smokes on the porch and takes languid sips of his coffee. He’ll slip inside as Steve turns back onto the street so the shower will be nice and warm by the time Stve makes it to the bathroom. Gentle hands scrub through thick hair, dragging washcloths over sud-lathered skin, all followed by sweet kisses. Okay, Steve may have lied; this is the best ten minutes of his day. 

While Steve finishes getting ready, Eddie makes a quick breakfast (usually just toasting bagels with whatever spread strikes his fancy that day and cutting up whatever fruit they have). They share their plans between bites as their free hands map out one another. Eddie doesn’t work for another few hours, so he’ll go back to sleep (even though he claims to be up for the day) but this means his fingers are still bare except for the matching band they both wear. Steve never misses a chance to feel those fingers against his. 

And then it's time for him to leave and Steve realizes it’s not Eddie’s fault. It’s his own. Because as he stands there, bag in hand and his shoes on, Steve wants to throw a tantrum and crawl back into bed with Eddie. He wants to be unreasonable and never leave their bed, ever, for any reason. 

“I love you,” Steve says against Eddie’s lips, between kisses. 

Eddie hums as he kisses him. “I love you. You’ve got to go,” he whispers. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“You’ll be home quicker if you go,” Eddie says. 

“But that means leaving now.” 

Eddie laughs softly as he kisses along Steve’s jaw. “I have to leave in a few hours, too. You wouldn’t want to be by yourself, would you, baby?” 

Steve sighs, but relents as he kisses Eddie one more time. 

All in all, Steve walks out of the door at 8:29am. One minute to spare. 

Steve drives the twenty minutes to work knowing he’ll barely beat his first client and Marnie is sure to give him hell for it. He doesn’t let it bother him, instead blaring the mixtape he made with Robin a few summers ago. It’s hard to care about appointments and being on time when his lips still tingle from Eddie’s kiss and Eddie’s aftershave and cologne still lingers in his nose. 

He’s floating on a cloud as he makes his way to work. 

And when someone asks them what time Steve starts in the morning, no matter the reason, Eddie will confidently say 9:00 am. 

Who is Steve to correct him? 

He walks through the lobby of the practice to Marnie’s icy glare. Steve just smiles and wishes her good morning. She’ll like him again come lunch, he’s sure of it. And if not? Oh well.

--

Ao3 Link

Thank you @lady-lostmind

#ohstars fic #steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #ohstars posting challenge

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Crewel wagging his baton at Rollo. "Hmph. I heard you excel in potionology. A shame you have chosen not to take my alchemy course."

THE WAY ROLLO PROBABLY DOESN'T WANT TO DO ALCHEMY BECAUSE HE REFUSES TO RAISE HIS BUDDY LEVELS WITH MALLEUS, IDIA, AND AZUL 😭 When Rollo's passive aggressiveness spills over into the gameplay...

Like Fire, Hellfire.

“Hah!” Crewel’s laugh was a dry bark. “To think that Trein-sensei and even Vargas-sensei have the opportunity to train you… I’m left feeling like an abandoned puppy on the side of the road.”

"Divus-sensei." Rollo politely bowed his head in reverence. "I apologize, I mean you no disrespect. I'm certain that you are a knowledgeable expert and instructor—I would have loved being under your tutelage."

A truth, white as snow.

He was nothing if not sincere to the man in the striped fur coat. Though the professor was a mage, Rollo would be lying if he claimed no respect for academics. They had some modicum of sense, sullied by the sin they practiced.

I call that a shame, he thought bitterly.

"That begs the question of why." Crewel curled a blood red glove against his chin. His eyes were sharp and discerning.

“Why, sir?” Rollo imperceptibly tensed.

"Why you chose to not enroll in my class. You enjoy Alchemy, correct? Your professors at Noble Bell College all speak highly of your abilities in the lab, even going so far as being involved independent research projects. All the factors indicate you should have been chomping at the bit to engage with my coursework.”

"... Sadly, it did not fit in with my schedule."

A lie, black as night.

Rollo’s stomach clenched at the thought of it—of being trapped in a room with the intoxicating potion fumes, forced to collaborate with heathens. It was a recipe for disaster, for his patience to fail and for his temper to spill over.

The corner of Crewel’s mouth quirked in amusement. “Exceptions can be made. The headmaster could have played around to ensure it fit—especially for a skilled young mage like yourself.”

“Please, I am worthy of no such praise.” Rollo clasped his hands together, one over the ring upon his right. “You must hold your own pupils to high expectations as well.”

“Hmm.”

His baton tapping patiently against his thigh, Crewel quietly assessed the student from the Shaftlands. Everything about him was careful and coordinated: looks, manners, words, actions. Perfect, almost like pure white or pitch black—but adults knew things, and one of those things was that there was no such thing as perfection.

“I can see that you’re of a humble breed, Flamme.” Crewel placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a quick pat. "However, I know a dog on a leash when I see one."

Confusion briefly flashed on Rollo’s face. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You’re a disciplined pup, but a restrained one—you aren’t realizing your full potential. You’re holding yourself back from doing what you really want: to let loose and to test your limits.”

Rollo’s eyes widened, repulsion lancing him.

He, desiring to openly revel in the devilry called magic? The man had it all wrong, had fallen for his controlled facade.

Perfect student, perfect boy. A paragon in pure white.

“I was a loose cannon myself back in the day,” Crewel continued, “A bad boy, a troublemaker, for the teachers to tame.”

“But you’re a teacher yourself now.”

“Yes, I’ve been trained well as you can see. That is also why I’ve got an eye for spotting those similar to myself.”

“What…” Rollo fumbled for his words. “Are you, as an instructor, encouraging disobedience and rebellion of your students?!”

“No, not exactly. However, a puppy won’t grow into a fine dog if they’re not granted the opportunity to go wild and experience what the world has to offer them. As the master of this litter of pups, it is also my responsibility to that through.”

Crewel smiled wickedly with his teeth, his canines pointed like some beast’s. A piece of his old self slipping through his well-groomed persona. Something gritty and dark.

Rollo shivered. He didn’t like that look.

“Go wild. Live a little—so long as you don’t cause your teachers any trouble.”

Give’m hell, pup.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Divus Crewel #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #idt Crewel knows what he’s fueling here

[total-drama-brainrot]

Total Drama AU/Headcanon: Where everything is the same, except Noah is just as crazy/insane as Izzy and Eva, but he's much better at hiding it (with a sarcastic calm personality) ... Only Izzy, Eva and Owen know his true unhinged colors (and that's why they get along with him so well) .../// Duncan briefly saw it during the Total Drama Island Special Finale, when Duncan grabbed Noah's leg, but Noah escaped, and we didn't see HOW Noah escaped... In this AU, Noah bit Duncan's hand then gave Duncan a silent psychotic grin, which shocked Duncan and gave Noah time to escape (Noah basically pretending the bite and grin never happened) ... In TDWT, imagine if Alejandro ever found out that the sanest one on his Team is only PRETENDING to be sane! 😅

I've seen that one Scary!Noah AU floating about in the main tag lately, and I love the concept. There's so much that could be done with having someone like Noah (scarily smart, mostly motivated by either spite or The Bit, nerfed by his own laziness/apathy/hubris) have the added bonus of Going Apeshit sometimes. Either as a treat to himself, or as the natural consequence of his hidden nature.

It's like that "Izzy Isn't Crazy" theory, but in reverse. "Noah Is Crazy, He's Just Good At Masking".

In this AU, he and Izzy would get on like a house on fire.

Like recognises like, after all; Izzy would clock him as just as unhinged as herself at their first meeting, and probably confront him about his 'game plan' at the first chance she could (maybe that's why she was so quick to swap with Katie? A bid to get herself on the same team as Noah?). Noah would try to deny it at first, because he's supposed to be the 'lazy genius'- slipping from his allotted persona this soon into the competition would jeopardise his strategy!- but Izzy would reassure him that she can practically smell the crazy on him.

He'd live up to his title as 'The Schemer', by means of plotting pranks and other such events with Izzy. She'd use her status as the overt crazy girl to pull them off, and Noah would either help behind the scenes to abate his hunger for chaos, or live vicariously through Izzy's blatant mania whilst revelling in the fact that their plan(s) play out perfectly every time. Imagine how much better Izzy's bear suit prank would've been with a man on the inside- and now imagine how much better it would've been if Noah pretended to get eaten/mauled by bear!Izzy (using smuggled ketchup packets and A Lot Of Screaming to convince the Gophers of his demise)! (He'd play off the incident by blaming the whole thing on Izzy- saying she was the one who used the ketchup, and his screaming was just him being Rightfully Terrified of being eaten. Gotta keep up the charade!)

No one would suspect him either! Who would ever assume that slothful, apathetic Noah who complains about the trials and tribulations of 'hard work', 'effort' and 'physical activity' could be a friend and an accomplice to the unstoppable force of nature that is Izzy? He's always too busy shoving his nose into his book to ever consider befriending the crazy girl, there's no way Noah would even tolerate her! (/s)

I think he'd eventually reveal his true colours to Team E-scope plus Owen once their friendship is cemented off-screen. Noah isn't the trusting type (I'd clarify, but I'd end up writing a whole unrelated essay- maybe another time) and he's habitually secretive- his non-answers in the WT Character Interview and his Sierra-given title of "The Man of Mystery" attest to this- so he'd need to know that his friends are really his friends before letting himself be vulnerable/transparent with them, since any 'friendships' made on Total Drama always run the risk of being a ploy/fake. It is a social game, after all.

As for the Duncan Incident. Having Noah bite people is going to turn into a running gag for me at this point, because it's so fucking hilarious to imagine him in a scenario where he's forced/pressured into violence and immediately starts chomping down on someone. This weasel boy wasn't built for punches and kicks but On God can he use those pearly whites to cause some damage. (The human jaw has a surprisingly strong bite force. Noah absolutely knows this.)

I'd also like to suggest that Noah rips himself out of his cargo shorts after biting Duncan, leaving the punk with a bleeding handful of nerd shorts and an open wound for his troubles. He'd already let go of Noah by that point too; it's hard to maintain your grip on anything when you've got a manic bookworm tearing away at the tendons in your hands. So he's just sat there, terrified and concerned, nursing the throbbing, sluggishly bleeding bitemark on his hand and wondering how Noah managed to contort his usually stoic facial features into a grin so wild and feral.

And Noah races back to Izzy and Eva, face and teeth splattered in Duncan's blood, sans cargo shorts. Neither of them question it; Izzy has an idea of what he's done, since Noah's smugness levels have risen at least three tiers and he's smiling almost contentedly to himself, and Eva has learned how to Mind Her Own Business when it comes to Izzy and Noah's eccentricities (though she often shoots inquisitive looks towards Noah's red-painted face).

Then in World Tour? Alejandro is suffering. Noah's the only person on his team who isn't lacking braincells and/or completely unhinged (or so he thinks), and as such he's the latino's only lifeline to sanity on the forsaken jet. So when Duncan returns in London and seems scared of the harmless bookworm? That's concerning.

Assuming that Noah's a wee bit more savvy in this AU thanks to his subterfuge experience in Island, he probably wouldn't be as outwardly apparent in his distrust of Alejandro during the challenge- either that, or he'd be enjoying torturing Tyler too much to think about how much of an eel Alejandro is. So Alejandro wouldn't have any reason to want to eliminate him, if anything he'd be motivated to keep him around, if only to act as a buffer between himself and the idiocy of Team Chris.

Duncan's re-introduction and allocation to the team would be Alejandro's first inkling into the fact that Noah is more than he seems. When the delinquent is ushered to stand next to Alejandro and Noah, his pupils contract into pinpricks or terror, and his attention flickers between the aloof cynic to his side and an oval-shaped scar on his hand. The cynic shoots Duncan a friendly smile (Alejandro ignores how the smile doesn't quite reach Noah's eyes) and the punk turns sheet white.

Alejandro doesn't know what to make of it.

#something something a higher iq correlates with higher levels of crazy? #it got a little fic-y there at the end but i ADORE the concept of an unhinged dangerous noah playing coy with the cast #like a cat toying with the doormouse in it's claws instead of eating it #this noah would pin all of his actions on izzy and she'd gladly take the credit #in world tour he crashes the plane twice (whilst chef's on break) and izzy takes the fall both times #they enable each other in their mania and that's beautiful 😌 #listen the idea of having alejandro play detective against this noah in WT is interesting but i'm so caught up in the-- #euphoria of an izzy🤝noah chaos combo that i'm not gonna dive into it (yet) #total drama #td noah #td izzy #td duncan #td alejandro #silly ideas #others' ideas #psycho!noah au #(that's what i'll call this AU. i know 'psycho' is an iffy term but i'm using it lovingly. also it reminds me of psycho teddy so-) #tw violence #tw blood mention

[toffee4you]

Sleepover Headcanons—--

First Years

Content: Prefect!reader, platonic, everyone's rowdy, Sebek's getting clowned on

Other parts: second years, third years

How would the twst boys behave during a sleepover at Ramshackle?

Ace

He's the first friend who comes over (along with Deuce) and only brings his own possessions to the sleepover. That bag of chips he bought? Yeah, they're for himself. Maybe he'll be willing to share if you make a fool out of yourself, though.

Maybe the only sharable item he brought is his deck of cards, but you were quick to ban that due to his habit of cheating.

Ace isn't that much of a handful when it's just Deuce and Grim. They have their usual petty fights, but you're able to meditate it. The real problem starts when more people begin to join; he's definitely beefing with your other friends, namely Sebek. Have fun trying to ensure nothing gets broken!

He's one of the last people to fall asleep out of the first years... And the first to pull pranks on the sleeping ones. First it's Jack, then it's Deuce. He really motivates you to not fall asleep in all the wrong ways.

Deuce

He comes with Ace but ACTUALLY brings snacks and drinks for everyone.

You don't have to worry much about Deuce fighting with others, the only issue is when Ace provokes him into arguing. You'll have to break it up before things spiral into a fistfight.

He falls asleep pretty late, but not late enough to outlast professionals like Ace... Or just exceptions like Ortho. He becomes the victim of getting his face drawn on.

Epel

This is being kept a secret from Vil for... Reasons. You're pretty sure he'll get dragged back to Pomefiore if his housewarden finds out, even if it's a weekend. After all, sleepovers typically mean staying up late.

He mostly brought apples and apple products due to the mass amount of it that he has, but rest assured he brought a game or two as well.

This one right here is the initiator of the pillow fight. He ends up smacking Ace in the face while shouting at him with a thick accent to the point where everyone's just confused, then everything goes in a downwards spiral from there. At least it was fun.... But the only terrifying part was dodging Jack and Sebek. you really wouldn't want to get hit by them, even if it's just with pillows.

Jack

He was just honestly doing his best when he brought protein bars and movie disks. At least the bars are chocolate, so despite how dense they are, nobody minds too much. No one wants to mention his choice of movie genres until Ace does and gets into another small fight.

He's fun to be around since he doesn't rage after games like most of the others (sometimes Deuce is fine). The only issue is that things will get noisy when he catches anyone cheating, so you'll have to oversee the games.

He tries to stay up like everyone else, but since he's so used to his regular sleep schedule, he falls asleep first. He's the victim of having makeup all over his face and getting all prettied up in ribbons and braids. Admittedly, you joined in with braiding his hair and tail.

Sebek

This guy pulls up with his Malleus plushie and immediately becomes the target of jokes within the first 15 minutes of the sleepover. He actually does bring a few refreshments though, which is surprising. You suspect it might have been under the directions of Lilia.

He seems really on edge the entire time since he's not guarding Malleus, but once he gets into the mood of the sleepover, his mind won't be as occupied on it. Plus, Malleus and Lilia ordered him to attend for his own good. He needs peers to hang out with.

#1 game rager, and Ace/Grim are having a field day out of it. He's not good at online games at all, so his only wins are either playing against Jack or playing tabletop games instead.

Watching him chomp down all the snacks starts to make you concerned that maybe there isn't enough at all. Fortunately, an unknown hero (...Ace...) replaced his drink with dark coffee to hold back his appetite. Sebek will try to pretend he can drink it at first before he has to give up, and that's when round 2 of the jokes begin.

Falls asleep around the same time as Deuce, and immediately, everyone wants to test out if his singular lightning-shaped hair strand can actually charge up devices... And Ortho. It's a rumor that was going on for a while.

Ortho

Ace, Deuce, Epel, and Grim get HYPED when he comes because they just know he has all the good games with him. The video games.

He did research on what kind of snacks to bring, plus Idia actually gave him the advice and budget for it so his little brother would look cool in front of everyone!

Naturally, he crushes everyone in online games, but he did try to slightly nerf himself after some of the others game raged.

Surprising good at pillow fights too. He's speedy and able to dodge by flying, plus his power output can be stronger than what it looks like. In fact, he nearly knocked Deuce out cold with a pillow and had to apologize later.

Ortho charged earlier in the day so there's no issues with staying up all night. No one exactly suspects him of being mischievous because they're all focused on Ace, but in reality, he's the ONLY person who gets to have the last laugh at everyone when they fall vulnerable to face-drawing and pranks in their sleep.

Grim

Your little furry friend. He didn't really help you prepare much for the sleepover and kept trying to get into the snacks beforehand, but he's super excited for it.

He talks big everytime he starts a game and rages when he loses, requesting to play something else or to do “another round” until he wins. There is no in-between.

He accidentally sparks jealousy in Sebek when casually mentioning how often “Tsunotarou” hangs out with the both of you, thus causing another fight. It's easier to break up a fight with Grim since you can just grab him and swaddle him. Kitty burrito.

Makes for an amazing pillow or heater when he falls asleep. The only difference between during a sleepover and during usual naps with him is that your other friends get to experience the fluff as well. Note that this does not stop the pranks from happening.

Special: Ouija Board

Epel is the one who brought along an Ouija board, and Ace pushes everyone else to play it by questioning their bravery.

Already, the two people who are fearing this board the most are Sebek, Grim, and Deuce—they won't admit it, though. Each and every one of them is pretending like this game is child's play.

Jack is probably calling this stupid but plays anyways because he won't stand for being called a chicken.

It starts with a simple question of “Are you there?” and ends with panic as the planchette moves to “Yes.”

It seems like everyone forgot there were actual ghosts at Ramshackle, but it was funny nonetheless seeing everyone panic; especially Grim. You would've liked to think that he'd be used to it by now.

When weird rumors about Ramshackle start circulating the school again, you'll know exactly why now. Even Malleus asks about it during his next visit. You might've spotted Rook lurking around the dorm a few times too.

#twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #crack fic #crack #twst crack #twst first years #first years #ace trappola #deuce spade #epel felmier #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #ortho shroud #grim #twst grim #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel #twst jack #twst sebek #ramshackle #twst prefect #ramshackle prefect #prefect #twst headcanons #headcanons

[beatrixstonehill2]

(Request from omgcatboi. I don't do a lot of requests but after seeing his gain I couldn't resist)

Cody always dreamed of taking the plunge and finally starting his transition. It took guts where he lived, but the temptation was too much for him to ever dream of ignoring it. He saw groups of guys hanging out together, drinking, playing basketball or working out and thought that's who he was. He would go home and gawk at men's fashion and fitness magazines, the accounts of male models and athletes on Instagram, and masturbate for hours, rubbing his pussy until it ached, cumming over and over, obsessively imaging looking like them, envisioning his ideal male self.

Finally going to college, on his own, Cody decided to tell his doctor how he felt and begin hrt. Testosterone shots weren't as scary as he thought. He settled right into his new routine, cutting his hair, slowly aligning his body, fashion, and presence with the man he knew he was always meant to be. His college friends doted on him like crazy, embracing the new Cody, finally showing more confidence, able to act and behave how he always wanted, but people would be way too quick to call out or belittle a woman for being that way. No longer would he suppress a thing about himself. He partied like crazy, ate the kind of food people would previously glare at him over or make a snide remark about not ruining his figure. No more judgment. He'd order an extra large double cheeseburger combo and twenty nuggets with a milkshake and the cashier would sound impressed, enthusiastically handing him his meal, telling him to 'Eat up!'

This rush was something he never anticipated about presenting male. People celebrated guys with a hearty appetite, especially ones who could drink people under the table. Suddenly Cody's visions of playing sports with a new group of guy friends or hitting the gym was completely shattered. He made friends with a circle of nerds, and they all ate with zero concern for their health. He became a bit of a legend among his new friends, being that he was way more charismatic than them, and could drink a twelve pack on his own in a single night and still be asking for more. People around the college regarded him as something of a party animal, and he couldn't escape all the people encouraging him to eat and drink nonstop. He rapidly gained weight and instead of it being embarrassing for him it became a badge of honor on campus. Before long he went from being a meager, invisible person nobody really payed attention to, to the life of the party, who got handed beer and pizza the second he walked through the door at a frat party.

Cody couldn't believe how fast he fattened up, his old skinny self long gone. He marveled at his gut, his stretchmarks, his arms, his face--everything was so round and swollen. And yet he wanted to get fatter. His dream of being super fit and suave like all those men he followed on Instagram was completely replaced by his new, covetous adoration of obesity. He savored every pound he put on, amazed that this, of all things, truly felt right to him, even though he knew his health would take a hit. He didn't really care, getting bigger was his one and only desire. The only thing missing was a dedicated feeder.... Having the whole college wait on his every whim was nice, but he knew this was the last piece of the puzzle for him, and as luck would have it.....

He attended one party late into his third year at university, pushing 400lbs, as usual he was pounding back beers and immediately the life of the party. He encouraged people to keep up with him, and very few people took him up on it, except one girl. He barely knew her.... or recognized her. A trans girl named Bianca that started university around the same time as him, majoring in psychology. She used to be about as skinny as he was pre-transition, but with big boobs. Now she was close to 400lbs as well, chomping on a big slice of pizza, wearing a sundress that hardly fit, her big gut straining it to its limits, her breasts huge and spilling out, her ass poking out, lifting the hem of the dress up just enough to catch a glimpse.... She smiled deviously, taking the fresh beer from Cody's hand, chugging the whole thing, belching in his face. He nodded with a bit of respect, grabbing another himself, chugging it, belching back. Bianca laughed, grabbing them both another beer.

They spent the whole night together, waking up with the world's worst hangover, naked in the same bed. They patted their huge, gurgling guts, reminiscing fondly about the wild night they had, agreeing they needed to go to the nearest diner and eat away their hangovers with the biggest, greasiest pile of breakfast food possible. While sharing breakfast, their competitive spirit rekindled, and they tried to outpace each other's eating, drinking glasses of milk and cola. By the end they both ate three full breakfasts each, and finished off with a whole pie, their bellies stretched to the limit, pressing against the table at their booth uncomfortably even when they leaned back. They confided in each other that they both wanted to get as fat as possible, and cared about almost nothing else. When Cody heard Bianca say she wanted to at least hit 1000lbs, his heart pounded. He of course one-upped her and said she better at least hit 1200lbs like he wanted to. She blushed and agreed, apologizing for thinking so small..... They smiled at each other, knowing they'd hit their goals in no time at this rate.....

#trans weight gain #trans feedee #trans feederism #trans bhm #trans ssbhm #ftm weight gain #mutual gaining