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ʚ HONEYPOT. ɞ

ଘ genre: fluff, comfort ଘ pairing: fushiguro toji x female reader ଘ from 呪術廻戦 / jujutsu kaisen ଘ word count: 2.3k ଘ beware: no real warnings, fushiguro toji’s third housewife arc, mentions of menstrual symptoms (cramping and fever), descriptions of menstrual pain, mention of birth control, a sprinkle of toji-typical cuss words, toji is a himbo in disguise, soft toji, he’s a little insecure now that he’s falling in love (took him long enough) lmao ଘ synopsis: it’s really surprising that when toji experiences you on your period for the first time, he is a manic cross between horrified and overprotective.  ଘ request: anonymous asked: im a sucker for husband!toji so if u don’t mind, I’ll ask for a fluffy oneshot/headcanon? where reader is on her period while toji here takes care of her :> please & thank u! ଘ notes: soft toji soft toji SOFT TOJI. writing fluff gives me the biggest, most active butterflies for this man ever. i was originally going to do headcanons but i’m too longwinded hehe, hope you enjoy <333 p.s. make sure to click the link for toji visual because this is how i imagined him the entire damn time LMAO. reblogs are loved  (ɔˆз(ˆ⌣ˆc)

 fushiguro toji is absolutely horrible with gals. 

sure, he’s good at sweet talking them into causing trouble with him in the dark but when it comes to being supportive, a shoulder to lean on when a woman’s tears start flowing in big, fat waves toji locks up, the grimace on his scarred features only making them cry harder. 

he also has a terrible habit, much worse than being a chain smoker: toji will downright scoff and call them a crybaby. to their faces. while they’re crying. 

but when you’re the one in pain, something in toji shifts. breaking down into the man you likely dream of him being before he can help it. not that he’d ever admit it to you or himself, but his corroded heart has a deep soft spot for you, his little wife. filled to the brim and overflowing with annoyingly pink, heart-shaped candies you probably put there yourself. 

still, it’s really surprising that when toji experiences you on your period for the first time, he is a manic cross between horrified and overprotective. 

after all, you don’t expect him to be caring. 

Keep reading

#toji fushiguro x reader #soft ‘nd cuddly

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Big Boy Toji

cw: dad toji, non-muscular body appreciation, toji calls reader mama

40 something year old Toji who doesn’t have the carved abs he used to have in his twenties

now he has a belly, soft and huggable

his kids favourite thing is sleeping on top of him, he’s warm and comfortable

he doesn’t care about shaving every other day anymore

going a few days and maybe a week with a stubble

he will definitely shave if you ask

but it’s just very fun to watch you squirm when his thick facial hair trickles your neck as he kisses you

in his younger year he used to shave his chest and abdomen too

he doesn’t care about it anymore either, you like his chest hair and he’s quite aware about how your eyes drift down his happy trail when he’s shirtless he lives for it

his chest is hard when he flex but still soft enough to be your favourite pillow during the night

he’s not any less hot

his arms are still muscular, maybe even bigger than before due to the long hours he spends on your house remodelling lifting all sorts of heavy material for you to have your dream home (and him saving as much money as possible)

sometimes you catch him looking at himself for a bit too long in the mirror after shower, he rubs his soft belly and grabs his sides

you don’t want to make him self aware so you carefully snicker behind him, wrapping your arms around his soft torso and kissing his shoulder blades

“come on daddy, why don’t you put those guns to a good use” you whisper on your tiptoes running a hand on his arm

“sure thing, mama” he picks you up so easily it never fails to amaze you how strong he is

sometimes he’ll carry a seven year old megumi (which’s already too heavy for you) in his bicep while doing other things around the house like he’s nothing

the extra weight he gained over the years shows up especially when he uses his old sweat pants, he doesn’t seem to realize how it hugs his ass so perfectly

he also doesn’t understand why his crotch feels so tight so he keeps pulling the material of his pants

“doll did you put those in the dryer? i think it has shrunken” he says looking down while you sip your coffee paying good attention to his perfect butt

his thighs are not immune to his growth either, they are not as muscular as they were when he used to workout but oh boy you can spend a ridiculous amount of time starting at them when he sits down, legs spread in his old basketball shorts

when he brings his friends over for a barbecue in his yard you bet he’s gonna pull you to sit on his lap at some point (or several) during the day

there’s no better feeling for him then sipping his cold beer while rubbing his loved one legs and watching his kids playing at the playground he build himself

#toji x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk toji #toji headcanons #soft ‘nd cuddly

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about to hit a follower milestone… smutty friends to lovers eren x reader mini series as a thank you?

yay or nay?

#attack on titan #x reader #smut #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren yeager #eren jeager smut

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, you wash eddie's hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie opens the door and finds a little girl on the steps of his house. Little girl feels generous – she's barely more than a baby. In a set of tiny matching pajamas and white socks stained green from the morning grass, she looks up at him with wide, sad eyes. 

"Hey," he says carefully. "Hey, sweetheart." 

"Good morning," she says, though it comes out blurry.

"Good morning," he repeats with a breathless laugh, instantly endeared.

He curls his hand around the railing and squats down. She really is very cute and obviously well looked after, although he realises upon closer inspection that she's been crying. 

"Where's your mommy?" Eddie feels silly as he asks, but what else do you say when you find kids by themselves? 

He's not really expecting her to know the answer. She pouts her small mouth and Eddie freezes up. 

"Mommy.” Her breath quivers. 

"Don't cry," he says very gently.

It doesn't work, obviously, and she starts whimpering in a way that turns Eddie's heart entirely. 

"Let's find mommy, okay? Do you wanna do that? Wanna come and find mommy with me?" 

"Yes," she says, though it quickly draws up into a sharp cry. 

Eddie treks down the stairs and turns back, waiting. The little girl looks down at the steps and her eyebrows furrow as she places one foot after the other, looking like her socks are stuck to a fly trap. 

He holds his hand out. "You got it," he says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers. 

Her relief is palpable. Her brows smooth as she takes his hand, so small he can cover her entire palm with the meat of his thumb. She wobbles down the steps and then hesitates at the damp ground awaiting. 

Eddie drops his gaze to her wet feet.

She looks up at him. Eddie doesn't think she means to but her eyes are pleading,and he's already moving to pick her up when she lifts her arms into the air.

She's heavier than he anticipates. He quickly gets used to the weight, shifting her against his side with his arm under her butt, her damp foot digging into his abdomen. She rests one hand on his shoulder and the other reaches for his hair. He can't help smiling at her as she pets the dark mess, hand clumsy but well-intentioned. 

He walks down past the van and onto dark asphalt, looking up and down the road to see if anyone's around. He figures she has to be a trailer park kid – she can't have walked very far, and she'd been waiting outside. She must've gotten mixed up and thought his trailer was her own, which hopefully means her mom lives close. 

The steps up into his trailer are on the right side. Eddie guesses she's come from the right. It's not a great assumption — he's grasping at straws. 

"What's your name?" he asks. 

She's taken a lock of his hair into her hands. Eddie worries for a second that she's going to try eating it but she only waves it around, looking pleased. 

"I'm Eddie." 

"Dee," she says. 

"Almost. Eh-dee," he spells out, again not actually expecting her to understand what he's saying. He's unsure about kids her age – he's unsure what age she even is. 

She babbles something unintelligible and Eddie hikes her higher up his chest. He strides out of the cool shadow and blinks, shielding his eyes against the yellow-white glare of sunshine. The little girl hides her face in his hair. 

He hasn't walked very far when he sees you behind the trailer three doors down, pinning clothes that look the same size as the girl's pajamas to a clothesline with unhurried hands. The front door is wide open. 

"Your poor mommy," he murmurs as he approaches, "out here doing the laundry by herself and you're halfway to Indianapolis. Musta got turned around, huh?"

You drop a small light blue dress on the floor and cuss just loud enough for Eddie to hear it. You pick it up fast and brush it down, looking over the fabric worriedly. 

Eddie cuts over soft grass, giving the baby's waist a pat and holding her ears away from his mouth as he raises his voice. "Hey, is this your kid?" he asks. 

You flinch toward him and your eyes go wide – wide, your lips parting and your brows jumping down like you might start yelling. 

You're really fucking pretty. 

Eddie’s quick to placate you. "She was sitting on my front steps." 

You still don't look very happy though your suspicion melds to confusion and then a stab of too-late worry. You rush towards them and Eddie turns his body to encourage the girl's gaze to you. His chest warms when she perks up. 

She wriggles in his arms impatiently and Eddie's surprised by how quickly she starts to cry, reaching out for you with insistent grabbing hands as he passes her over.

"It's okay," you say softly, tucking her into your chest. 

The difference in body language is unmissable. Where she'd been restless (though more than pleasant) in Eddie's arms, she completely melts into yours. Her little face presses into your neck and her legs curl up. You pat her butt soothingly. "It's okay, baby. Where have you been?" You look up at him for an answer with concern lining your pretty features. 

"I'm only three down," he says. 

 "Oh… Thank you," you say roughly.

Your gratitude is unnecessary. "That's okay. She's real sweet. I opened the door and the first thing she said was, 'good morning,'" he recalls with an easy smile. 

Joy lightens your entire face. He feels his breath catch in his throat. 

"She did? She said that?" 

"Yeah, she did.” He tries not to sound as confused as he feels.

Your eyes close with the force of your smile. You encourages your toddler’s face back and drop your chin to plant kisses all over her tiny cheeks. Eddie feels something foreign yawning in his chest as she starts to laugh, a tinkling sound that's sugar sweet. 

He scratches his neck and pretends to look over his shoulder, tamping his smile back into a neutral expression. 

"She's having trouble talking," you say, lifting your head as the baby's giggles taper off. "She can talk, she says 'mommy' all the time, but she's s'posed to be saying more 'cos she's almost two and I know she can do it, she's so smart, but-" You cut yourself off and laugh all breathless and sheepish. "Sugar, I'm sorry. I mean- Sorry. Thank you," it almost bursts from you, "for bringing her back. I don't know…" 

"You just moved in, right?" You nod. "The lock on the front door- they're all exactly the same, you just gotta shake it and it unlocks. Even someone small as her can could get it open with enough determination." 

"She can be very determined," you say ruefully, voice hushed. You're still patting her butt, swaying her from side to side. Eddie's in awe at how quickly she's settled, her button features crumpled by a big yawn. "Always gets what she wants."

"I bet she does, she's a total heartbreaker." 

You take a step towards him, your beat up sneakers half a foot from his converse. "She can't help it, she was born this pretty," you say. He loves how braggy you sound. 

"I can see where she gets it." 

As soon as he says it he wishes he could take it back. Not because he doesn't think it's true – you're really something else – but because he doesn't want to creep you out. 

Luckily, he's rewarded for his bravery by another beaming smile, your words warm as you tell him, "They said she was the prettiest baby they'd seen in twenty years up in Eskenazi general." 

The name pricks his ears. "You're from Indianapolis?" 

"Kind of." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." 

"Eddie." He could applaud himself on how normal he sounds and how not normal he feels. 

"Eddie, I'm Y/N. D'you wanna come in for coffee? Or I can make you some breakfast? To say thank you for taking care of my Junie."

"Junie," he repeats, surprised. 

You shift from foot to foot. "She's a June baby. And she's getting kind of heavy these days, so. Breakfast?" 

He follows you up the steps and through the back door. 

"You can leave it open," you say over your shoulder. 

He catches an eyeful of your bathroom, an organised chaos that smells intoxicating, the rich scent of jasmine heavy in the humidity chased by something softer. Talcum powder, he thinks. 

You murmur something to Junie too quiet to hear and she rouses from her dozing, grizzling weakly. 

"It's breakfast time! Is that what you tried to come and find me for, some breakfast? So impatient," you scold her lightly, smiling all the while as you set her into a bright blue high chair with a big yellow duck with orange flippers printed on the cushioning.

You squeeze one of her feet and frown. "Your socks are wet. Did you go swimming in the grass?" 

Eddie leans against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He doesn't have any experience with kids. You make it look easy, pulling off her stained socks while she wiggles her protest and tickling the soles of her feet with the tip of your finger until she's happy again. 

You turn back to him, socks clutched in your hand. "I'm gonna make oatmeal. Is that something you…" 

"I'm an oatmeal fiend." 

You grin and do a lap to close the front door. "Sit down. I'll get you some coffee? I got milk and brown sugar." 

He throws himself into the seat next to the high chair with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Brown sugar? Sweetness, you're spoiling me." 

Junie laughs. Eddie pulls himself up into a proper sitting position and gawps at her exaggeratedly. "What's funny, little lady?" 

She giggles some more. Eddie leans his elbow on the tray of the high chair and pretends to glare at her. "I can already tell you're trouble." 

"She likes you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, looking at you over his shoulder. 

You're half obscured by cabinets as you poke your head out, an open sack of rolled oats in one hand and a small pan in the other. You nod happily and move to the sink. He can hear the sound of the faucet and the burner clicking on, the saucepan sliding over the stovetop. 

"I like you," he says to Junie quietly, rapping his knuckles on the tray. "But don't tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation." 

"So, uh, how long have you lived here?" you call, almost smothered by the rushing sound of oats tipping into hot water. 

Junie makes a funny face like she might sneeze. Eddie watches. "Since I was a kid." He's smiling as he talks, amazed when Junie starts to smile back. He nods his head gently up and down to encourage her. "Too long. Not that it's not nice here."

Junie looks like she agrees. 

"For sure, but..  not always where you picture yourself," you say tentatively. 

He hums his agreement. "Whatever though, right? A roof is a roof. Even when the roof is made of cardboard and corrugated metal. I mean, all things considered, this is a well kept vessel." 

He's not just trying to make you feel better – you really are making a go of it. There's not nearly as much clutter or decoration as his own home but it's twice as clean and every surface brags a clear affection – you fucking love your daughter. There's a framed photo of her as she looks now at the mantle without a single fingerprint on the glass, baby photos in smaller frames hang on the wall. 

Smallest of all, a photo of the two of you together. Your hands on her shoulders, your lips and nose pressed to her forehead. You're not looking at the camera, but Junie is, and she's exuberant. 

Toys, though few, are arranged neatly under the TV. It's really the type of clean that takes hours. He wonders how you'd ever make time for it. 

"You got a job?"  

"Yeah, I'm waitressing at Benny's?" You say it like a question. "The burger place?"

"Yeah, I know the one. Randolph Lane, near the laundromat. Does Junie go with you?" he asks. He cooes Junie's name and feels very happy when the girl in question smiles some more, reaching out with her hands. Eddie offers up the same palm she'd taken before and lets her squeeze his fingers in a surprisingly tight grip. "She looks like a working girl." 

"Benny said I could bring her with me until she starts daycare next week, so she really is a working girl." You giggle madly and Junie loves the sound, her chubby cheeks rounding as she smiles. 

"I knew it," Eddie whispers conspiringly. "You have the face for it." 

Junie laughs like something is truly hysterical and Eddie can't believe it, squeezing the small girl's smaller fingers in his and waving their joined hands together.

"She really likes you," you say, closer now. 

You set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He pulls his hand from Junie's and moves the hot mug away from the high chair though she'd never be able to reach it as you set your own mug and a pint of milk half-full across from him, the brown sugar you'd promised in a pink and orange ceramic dish with a lid that clinks as he pulls it off. 

You double back into the kitchen. This time you bring a baby bottle full of what he guesses is diluted juice and two teaspoons, handing him one with a quiet, "For you." 

"Why thank you," he drawls. 

He spoons a generous hill of crumbly brown sugar into his cup and swirls. 

"The oatmeal needs to soften. Is there anything you want with it? I've got lots of options," you tell him, pouring milk into your own mug. When you're done you and Eddie swap.

He thinks maybe you sound a little nervous and wonders if he's the first neighbour you've met. Or maybe you're still freaked out about Junie. 

He raises his eyebrows but doesn't look at you as he splashes milk into the dark recesses of his coffee, watching as it bursts back up to the surface and turns the drink a more acceptable brown. "What do you usually have?" 

"Junie gets peanut butter and blueberries." 

He tilts his head toward his shoulder just slightly and plants his elbows on the table, the rim of his mug held in tenuous fingertips. 

"What do you get?" he asks, thinking that if the baby gets such a sweet treat you must get something equally impressive. He thinks of raspberries and chia seeds, flakey sea salt and bitter dark chocolate. 

You blink. "What?" 

"What do you have, on your oatmeal?" He punctuates his question with a sip. 

"Salt. Sometimes raisins." 

You make a nice cup of coffee. Eddie holds it in both hands and leans into the table. "That's it?" 

You shrug. Junie starts to whimper about something Eddie doesn't understand. You reach out to hold her hand. "She loves blueberries. Don't you, Junie?"

"Blue," Junie says. 

You're smiling as you take another small spoonful of brown sugar. You lick the tip of your finger and dip it into the well of the spoon until a few grains are sticking to you and hold it up to Junie's lips. "She loves sugar, too, but toddlers aren't s'posed to have it. Or so they say." You smile as she sucks the sugar off before wiping your spit wet finger in your pants. 

Daughter appeased for a moment, you hold your chin in your palm and turn your attention to him. "Where do you work?" 

He imagines this is how a plant feels when the sun comes out. "The Hideout, for now. I'm a very essential and irreplaceable bus boy." He nods very seriously.

"What's after?" 

"Music." 

Your lips curl into an interested smile. "Music? You a singer?" 

"I have a great set of windpipes," he says agreeably, grinning. "But I'm a guitarist." 

"And you're in a band?" 

"I- I was. Yeah, we were good, too, but everybody graduated and our drummer skipped town. I just sub rhythm guitar for whoever wants me to." 

"At the Hideout?" 

"At the Hideout." He decides on his next words carefully. You could come see me play. Weak. You're welcome to come see it for yourself. Too strong? You're welcome to come by one night. Bring Junie. 

He's not asking you on a date; he's a new acquaintance extending an invitation for you to get out and see a new place. That's all it is. 

He opens his mouth to try and suddenly there's a loud clattering. Eddie flinches, blinks, finds that Junie has thrown her bottle of juice across the room. 

Eddie waits for you to maybe tell her off like some of the mom's he's seen at Bradley's. A glare, a hissing remark to be good. 

You reach over and your shirt rides up your back. Eddie averts his gaze guiltily.

You put the bottle back on the tray, giving him an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, Junie has recently discovered that every time she drops something I'll pick it up for her." 

"Smart Junie." 

The bottle falls to the floor again. "She's a genius." You don’t sound entirely pleased, picking the bottle up again and holding it just out of Junie's reach. You shake it up and down. "S'juice. You like juice," you try to reason with her.

Junie reaches for it. You purse your lips. "Be good," you say softly. 

Junie takes the bottle and shakes it. 

It's a small victory and still softens every feature. Your eyes squint, your bottom lip juts out a touch, your nostrils flare with a pleased inhale. 

"Thanks, junebug."

"Tanks," Junie says. 

"Thanks," you repeat, bubbly baby talk. "Thanks. Say thanks, Junie." 

Eddie watches you encourage her over his coffee. It's quiet, peaceful here in a way nowhere else in his life has ever been besides quiet Sunday mornings with his Uncle. There's only the sound of the gas stovetop burning and your happy, patient voice. 

Junie says "Tanks," a couple more times. You don't give up. When she finally says something that sounds almost like a "Thanks," you whip your gaze to his. 

"Did you hear that?" you ask. Your pride is evident. 

He puts down his half empty mug. "She said it." 

"She said it," you repeat, your shoulders moving in the tiniest happy dance he's ever seen. You stand up and take her face into delicate hands. "She's my smarty pants. Aren't you, baby?" 

You dot a kiss over her head and head back into the kitchenette. 

"Tanks," Junie says animatedly, running on an affection high. She accidentally knocks her bottle over.

"Thanks, Junie," Eddie corrects, righting it. 

He finds it easier to baby talk than he imagined. Being nice to little kids – that's easy. Especially as he gets older. When they hit the pre-teen mark is when he starts to steer clear, but even then he can't help doting on them sometimes. Like his club – idiots, annoying idiots, but his annoying idiots. He doesn't hold back with them. He doesn't feel like he's holding back now, either, it's just different. 

Baby's want love. Care and affection. 

And to pull Eddie's hair, apparently. 

Junie's reaching over the gap with a fierce look on her face. Eddie pulls his chair closer and decides to let her try it out. She hadn't given him any reason to worry before, and she doesn't now as she takes a chunk of his hair into her hand. She pulls very gently, likely more that her fingers have gotten caught in his messy curls than any maliciousness. 

"What's your fascination with my hair?" he asks her. 

In her own home Junie's very noisy. When he'd found her outside she hadn't done much besides whimper weakly. Now, she's a riot of gurgling and humming. 

"Are you a singer, Junie?" he asks. 

"She sings all the time! She loves the Muppet Babies on TV, but I- uh, I haven't been able to actually get cable, yet. But when I get paid next week…" You come back into view with two bowls in hand. "She'll be in her oils." 

Eddie says thanks as you put a bowl down in front of him. There's a smiley face there made up of berries with banana slices for eyes. He feels something crawling up his throat and has no idea what it is, and then something completely different when he sees your own bowl, a stretch of plain oatmeal with no delicious adornment. 

You leave and quickly return with a smaller bowl, a baby spoon and a jar of peanut butter.

"Do you want some?" you ask, opening the jar to push the baby spoon inside. "I would've just put it in anyway but then I worried you were allergic." 

You hand it off to Junie and she licks at it happily. 

"Sure, I'll have some. Where's your smiley face?" he asks. 

Your eyes widen slightly. Eddie's not academically inclined but he's never been stupid, and he sees it for what it is, something he's seen in himself and in every other poor kid who didn't bring lunch to school.

"I don't really like bananas," you say. 

Whether you're lying or not isn't something he needs to know.

"Well, you're gonna have to share the blueberries with me, I can't eat this much fruit. I got a hearty diet of chips and microwave oven dinners to uphold." 

Eddie shovels half of the smile into your bowl. You clutch your spoon in your hand like you want to protest, but no way is he gonna watch you miss out on nice things in your own home. 

You smile and don't say anything for a while, rubbing the edge of the bowl with your spoon, your thoughts somewhere else. 

Junie's food sits billowing steam in the middle of the table, which annoys the poor girl endlessly. She wiggles and murmurs and sucks at her empty spoon with a growing line between her brows. 

Eddie eats and feels much better when you finally start to eat your own meal, leaning back in his chair heavily to loll his head towards Junie. "Your mom makes amazing oatmeal. You're really missing out." 

You choke on a laugh and grab her spoon to load up with another small heap of peanut butter. "That is so cruel to lord over her,” you say. “I can't give it to her yet! It's scorching. She has a fragile mouth." 

"I'm sure." 

He picks one of his blueberries out of the bowl and offers it to Junie, who takes it slowly despite her previously rabid hunger 

More oatmeal eating. Eddie ends up giving the rest of his fruit to Junie, your generous dollops of peanut butter more than enough to enjoy the oatmeal. He might argue it doesn't need any adornment at all.

You stir peanut butter into Junie's bowl and wrestle the baby spoon out of her tight grip.

It's a process to watch. You scoop up oatmeal, blow on it until you're sure it's cool, and push it into Junie's mouth efficiently. There's a method to it, the way you lift the handle of the spoon so oatmeal doesn't drip straight back out of her mouth. When it does you scrape the lip gently against her chin to catch it before it ruins her shirt. 

It starts to rain. Hard not to notice, a light drizzle opens and sprays down against the windows and for a moment there's no reaction. Then, gasping, you drop Junie's bowl back onto the table in stress. 

"Shit, the laundry. Are you okay to watch her please? Sorry. I'll be five seconds," you say, already heading for the back door. 

"Sure.” He sounds about as startled as he feels. 

The back door shushes open and your feet dip down the steps. Junie is not very pleased with her breakfast getting put on pause, her face growing as unpleasant as the weather outside.

"Mommy," she says, unhappy and loud.

Eddie doesn't think about it as he picks up her bowl. It's more a pulse of feeling than a thought. Feed her and she won't cry. 

He blows on a spoonful of oatmeal with likely too much vigour. 

Junie's still complaining as he holds it in front of her face. If she's surprised to be fed by somebody who isn't her mom she doesn't show it, her sticky face growing suddenly slack as she realises her oatmeal is back in play. Her lips part.

He feeds her oatmeal, does a very bad job, and tries to gather what's escaped with the spoon as Junie waves her hands around and pokes at spilled food on the white tray in front of her. By the time you come back damp and breathless with the cold chasing your heels he's successfully managed to feed her what was left of her breakfast. He's embarrassed to be caught but tries not to show it. 

"You okay?" he asks, looking you up and down amicably.

"S'only a little rain." You push the laundry basket onto the sofa and smile sheepishly. "You didn't have to do that." 

"And have the precious little lady starve?" 

"Starve!" you repeat, a feigned incredulousness to your tone. 

"She was giving me the puppy dog's," he says, shrugging as he takes the spoon out of Junie's wet fingers. 

She whines for a second at his robbery but seems to realise she's full, picking her juice back up to shake some more. 

You exhale through an open-mouthed smile.

"Thank you. She's gonna love you now, she loves anyone who gives her food. She's a real cadge at the diner. Never seen so much free cherry pie in my life," you remark, turning to what looks like your diaper station. You wade through a mess of things he doesn't recognise and pull out a packet of baby wipes. 

"And her mom? Is her affection so easily garnered?" 

"Takes more than a cherry pie to win me over," you joke, sitting down in your chair in front of the high chair with a soft sigh. You pull out one of the wipes and take Junie's wrists into your hand, wiping her fingers clean methodically. "I need at least a squirt of whipped cream on top before I consider any fondness." 

He chuckles and you laugh too. It's short-lived, your lips pursed as you wipe Junie's face clean. She hates every second of it, writhing in her chair like she's being tortured as you clean a mess of brown and blue from her round chin. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Done, done," you say, holding your hands up in surrender. 

She pouts. 

"Don't be like that," you scold her mildly. "Look how lovely and clean you are now! Eddie can see how pretty you look again." 

You slide your hands under her armpits and pull her out of the highchair, groaning. 

"Oh, there you go. Where's Mr. Bear gone, baby? You can play sticky bricks with him so I can get ready for work." 

Work. Work. Where Eddie was going. Where Eddie is very likely supposed to be. He checks the time and his eyes flare, standing up abruptly. You turn  toward him with Junie anchored on your hip, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity.

"Sh-“ Don’t swear around babies. “I'm sorry, I got somewhere to be that I totally spaced on."

You blink. "That's okay." 

"It was sick to meet you," he says. 

You blink some more and walk to the front door, pulling it open as an understanding smile curls your lips. "Super 'sick,'" you say, bemused. "Thank you so much for bringing Junie back. Really, I mean, if anything ever happened to her." You don't finish because it's obvious, your bright tone underlain with a burning fear.

He walks sideways out of the door and down one step, knowing he's super fucking late but not caring too much as he says, "Listen, I can bring you a deadbolt." 

"You could?" 

"Sure thing. Make sure this little lady," and he says it chidingly, directing his gaze at Junie who goes all shy and smiley from the attention, "doesn't go on anymore morning adventures. Especially without her shoes." 

"That would be… that would be awesome, Eddie. Thank you." 

He waves his hand and descends the last of the steps. "I'll come around tomorrow?" 

It's a Saturday today. He's not surprised that you're both working the weekend, but he is surprised that you're working Sunday too when you say, "Would after five be okay?" 

"That's more than okay. Bye, trouble," he says to Junie, bringing a hand up to shield his hair from the drizzling rain. 

You look lovely on the stoop, fresh-faced and in your lounge clothes. You tug Junie up your chest and take her hand into yours. "Say 'bye', Junie," you tell her, waving her hand. "Bye! Bye-bye, Eddie." 

"Bye Junie!" he calls, waving at the little girl with great fervour.

"Bye!" Junie calls back. 

You both grin. 

-

You're super tired from work and exhausted from an upset daughter. Even now Junie fusses. She hasn't been getting her naps because you can't set her down anywhere that isn't the wooden high chair in Benny's restaurant, which is months of a routine disrupted. 

You're not mad at her – the opposite, you feel awful to mess her up like this, awful that she's so upset. Trying your very best to calm her down, you're swaying her from side to side in the middle of your messy living room with your hand patting a steady rhythm into the narrow breadth of her back. 

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry. You'll get your nap tomorrow, I promise," you say, trying for softness and missing, desperation eating at your tone.

You try not to have a heart attack at the thought of her first day at the new daycare. I can't think about it, you tell yourself, moving your thoughts onto the Sunday checklist. 

Junie's been fed. Unfortunately, she's the kind of wound up where the only solution you can think of is to get her in bed. If you can get her down soon she'll sleep until maybe 4AM. Not ideal; you'd prefer she slept later tonight and woke up at a healthier 6AM with you. When she does wake, no matter the time, you'll have her eat something substantial for breakfast and take a much needed bath. 

Laundry, bills, cleaning, it all runs through your head. Junie's hair, her snacks for daycare, her clothes. Does she have clean socks for the week? Does she have a vest top for tomorrow? 

Her crying grows loud and you can't think of anything except how overwhelmed you feel. 

"It's okay, baby, just go to sleep." You shush her softly.

Somebody knocks the door. 

You and Junie are similarly nonplussed. Her crying ceases for a second and her head turns in tandem with yours. 

"Oh. Oh, you know who that is, huh?" you ask her, making for the door while her cries are still on pause. "That's our new friend Eddie. You remember Eddie?" 

You pull open the door. There he is on the porch with a bag and a plastic case, wearing a shirt with short sleeves. You realise for the first time that he has tattoos. 

"Hi," you say. 

"Hi. Hi, Junie," he adds, looking at her tear-stained face. "Have I come at a bad time?" 

"No, you're good. You're great, thank you for doing this." You lean back against the door and Eddie skirts past you. That close, you can smell the heavy sage and sandalwood of his cologne and see the beauty mark under his ear, dark hair tucked behind the shell. 

He stops in the middle of the room and puts down the plastic case. "I'm gonna try to do it. Try being the essential word, and I make absolutely no promises." He makes a small cross with his hands leading out and the bag falls from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. 

It sounds like more than a deadbolt. Eddie sees your gaze and jumps into theatrics that hook Junie's attention straight away, ruffling through the bag. He pulls out a VHS tape and then a second, one old and one newer. 

"For your consideration." He presents them grandly against his check, his eyes flitting from your daughter to the tapes in wait of her reaction. 

Junie has no clue what a VHS is. She thinks the TV is magic. 

You swoop in and gasp loudly for Junie's sake, having identified his proffered tapes immediately. 

"You know what that is?" you ask her, pointing at the slipcover. "Muppet Babies! There's Kermit and Fozzy and Rowlf and Gonzo." You touch your finger to each puppet in turn as you reel off their names. 

Junie looks up at you like maybe she remembers, so you start to sing the theme tune for her. "Muppet Babies, they make their dreams come true. Muppet Babies, they'll do the same for you!"

The song jogs her memory. She starts her nonsense singing in a valiant but juvenile effort to recreate the music, dancing in your arms. 

You sing it again for her as you lower her to the floor. She doesn't whine to be picked back up, a great sign that her mood has turned, instead walking to the TV, a small silver combi with a bubble screen. She raises her arms up high and starts hitting the TV stand with her palms flat. 

Eddie looks to you as if he's checking that it's alright before crossing the small space and turning on the TV, your relieved smile more than enough encouragement. He's careful not to step on Junie's feet, surprised when she walks into his leg. She grabs onto his jeans and looks up at him with wide eyes. 

Eddie visibly softens. 

It's kind of crazy to see him, this metalhead dude covered in dark tattoos and wearing safety pinned jeans looking down at a toddler with nothing but patience in his eyes.

He drops his hand very lightly to her tiny back and pushes in the tape. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi," Junie says. 

She doesn't let him touch her for very long, falling to her knees to pull out the bin of stickle bricks hiding underneath as Eddie fast forwards through the adverts and then turns up the volume until the Muppet Babies theme is echoing against the wood panelled walls.. 

Junie's eyes dart up the screen, two bricks held in her hands and a great smile on her face. 

"Where did you find that?" you ask, in awe. 

He steps over her and comes back to your side, crossing his arms over his stomach with a smug smile. "Not telling. Ruins the magic. Got The Bugs Bunny Show for when she gets bored of Miss Piggy." 

You smooth down your rumpled black work skirt and smile shyly. "I can pay you back… Next week." 

He looks lost for words for a split-second. It clears fast, and he says, "Tell you a secret. I have a friend down at good old Family Video that let me have 'em for nothing." 

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. You worry he's lying to make you feel better. 

"Uh-huh. Friends in high places," he brags sarcastically. 

You turn to watch Junie smile for the first time in hours and have to scrub your face to hide how shattered you feel. It's been a really long week. Your relief is a physical thing, a hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself deflate. 

"You okay?" Eddie asks. 

You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. "Thank you. Really. You saved me." 

"Yeah?" he asks, dialling up the drama. He lifts his chin high. "Would you say, oh, I don't know, that I'm your hero?" 

It's his clear joking tone that saves him. If you'd detected even a smidge of genuine expectancy from him you likely would've shoved him out the door. 

"Mm-hm. My hero," you croon, both of you grinning. 

He turns back to the grocery bag and pulls out a bottle of juice. "I was gonna bring coke but I didn't want Junie to feel left out." 

You move to the cabinets and can't believe how nice he is. You get a little warning stab, that feeling of if it's too good to be true… and shake it off. Maybe it'll turn out that way and you're not gonna do anything stupid to chance it, but he seems like a normal guy. A good neighbour who wants to be your friend.

You're in dire need of one of those. 

"What was wrong with the little lady?" 

You pour juice into a glass for him, less into a glass for you, and a half-inch into a clean baby bottle. "I can't get her down for a nap when she's with me at work and it really caught up to her today. She-" You yawn so wide it hurts your cheeks, covering your face with your arm. 

Eddie looks up from where he's kneeling in front of the open plastic case he'd brought with him. "Caught up to you too, I think." 

"A little." You smile ruefully. 

He holds something red and black in the air. "This'll wake you up," he says. 

It's a small hand drill. He presses down on the trigger twice in quick succession and Junie lies down on the floor to look backwards at him. 

“Woah,” you say.

Junie rolls onto her knees and then stands. She's in that stage of walking where she can mostly do it but has a great tendency to trip over anything that might be in her way, and she stumbles as she approaches. Eddie moves the drill away from her and opens the case wide to show her his array of drill bits. 

"How'd you like them, Junie?" he asks. "Pretty cool, huh?" 

"What do they all do?" you ask. 

"I don't have the foggiest," he says, grinning up at you. "And I really wanted to be cool and pretend that I did. I was going to, but you asked me that and now we're sunk." 

Junie pokes at all the silver metal and turns away, bored, to return to her cartoons. 

"I'm sorry," you say, not sorry at all. 

"You should be." He shakes his hair out. "Can't say woodshop was something I ever paid much attention to in school." 

You squat down beside him where he's counting the screws out for the deadbolt he'd acquired for you, your small cup of juice in hand. The deadbolt isn't new but it's clean of rust and that's all you care about. It doesn't need to do anything besides work. 

"It can't be too hard though, right?" you ask quietly. There isn't any need to talk loudly this close to him and your head is starting to hurt from a long day. 

"I hope not." He passes you the drill. "Hold onto that?" 

He stands and you follow, the deadbolt frame in hand. He turns to your front door and holds it up to the frame, far from the door knob. "Where'd you want this thing?" 

"Wherever you think is best," you say quickly. 

"Got a pencil?" 

You don't. You're ashamed to offer him a cyan blue crayon from Junie's arts and crafts. He takes it with a gleeful smile and uses it to draw a line under the deadbolt's two parts to make sure they fit together once they've been drilled in. 

Junie starts fussing and you squint at her, trying to guess what's wrong. You leave the drill on the small table by the door.

"Junie, you want some dinner?" you ask, walking up behind her where she's stood watching TV. You rub her shoulder and lean over her, your face upside down in front of the TV. "I don't think you're hungry. Let's change that diaper." 

She certainly doesn't want you to. You turn to Eddie where he's making clumsy crosses on the door in place of the screws, his brows furrowed. 

"I'm gonna go get her some jammies," you say, and then wince. "Pajamas." 

"Jammies," he repeats. You hate how happy he looks. 

A hot flush washes over you. "She's the only one I talk to." 

Again, that awful softening of his features. He's got the biggest, brownest eyes you've ever seen. "Why don't you get changed, too? I'm gonna start drilling." He waves the drill and you don't like how loosely he holds it. 

"Please don't ruin the door." 

A wolfish smile. "No promises." 

You leave all the doors open. Eddie's nice but you're not stupid – if he plans on kidnapping her or something evil this is the perfect time. Though, you suppose, he could’ve abducted her when he found her outside.

You shed your uniform and pull on a pair of loose fitting pants. You can't find a clean t-shirt, probably because you own a grand total of three, and you get distracted when the drill starts whirring and Junie screams. 

You know in your heart that it's just a baby scream rather than a sign that she's in pain and you still can't let it lie, rushing down the hall. You can see her, see that she's uninjured, only looking at the drill.

She's excited. 

"You like that?" Eddie asks her. "Is that funny?" 

Junie claps her hands together and reaches for the drill. 

Eddie frowns. "Sorry, you can't have it. I gotta finish the door for your mommy. Why don't you build me something with your bricks, yeah? Something big." 

Junie reaches up for the drill again. 

"I can't, Junie, it's too dangerous. Don't want you to get all mutilated." You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying. He turns the drill towards his chest and touches the drill bit to his collar. "Look, see this? It's not for little hands." 

Junie steps over the case of things on the ground and leans against Eddie's legs, insistent. 

Your mouth drops open as he starts the drill and puts on some fake anguished screams. "Ah! Oh my god, it's eating me!" 

Junie starts laughing at his fake screaming. Her eyes widen, her hands clinging to a rip in his jeans. 

"Think that's funny, do you? Heartless girl. Where's your juice gone, hmm?" He holds the drill behind his back and points to her bottle on the side of the couch where you'd left it. "You want that?" 

He goes over her head to grab it and encourage it into her hands. "Yummy," he says, his eyes moving to where you stand in the door past the kitchen, eyebrows jumping up. "Everything okay?" 

"Screaming," you say, awkward in your breathlessness. 

Eddie's eyes stay resolutely on your face. "She's okay. The drill is exciting. You're shirtless, you know." 

You spin on your heel and back into your room. Your heart a jack hammer, you sieve through clothes until a rumpled t-shirt that smells of deodorant but not sweat appears and shrug into it. 

Junie has a much better selection of clothes. You pick out some matching pajamas for her and a thick pair of socks and tuck them under your arm with her changing matt.

When you return this time, Eddie's drilling a third and fourth hole into the wall next to the door and Junie's watching with the teat of her bottle in her mouth, chewing but not drinking. You lay her mat down on the floor and grab her with a big sigh. 

"Alright, Junie, let's get you all fresh for bed." 

You change her diaper and she doesn't misbehave too much, Eddie's general presence a distraction. Soon she's sitting in your lap, dressed in new pajamas and smelling of talcum powder and baby creams, her wool socks soft as you rub your thumbs into the instep of her feet. 

You sit on the floor watching Eddie drill the screws into the deadbolt frame. Junie slouches against you, her head digging into your chest and her tired arms struggling to hold up her bottle. You hold it up for her, watching Eddie's hands and his arms, how they move. Muscle and ligament tense under the skin, tattoos warping, his bats propelled into flight. 

"I like your tattoos," you say. 

Eddie stops drilling to look over his shoulder. "What?" 

"I- I like your tattoos." 

He lights up. His back straightens out and he turns back to the lock, giving the last screw a final good twist. The door makes a groaning protest and then it's quiet. Just Muppet Babies, Junie's soft suckling and the compliment you'd given adrift in the room. 

"They're pretty sweet," he allows. You can hear how pleased he is though he won't look at you. 

"They're cool. Have you had them long?" 

Eddie starts to tell you all about them, fiddling with something you can't see on the door. 

Junie decides that she doesn't want to be sitting anymore and turns in your arms, hands coveting your neck. You lift her into your chest and rub circles in her back, the weight of her emptying bottle on your shoulder. Soon, her small arms go lax. There's a rush of air as her lips open from the teat and the bottle tumbles to the rug with a dull thud. 

He pulls open the door.  Cool air rushes in. He closes it, slides the deadlock into place, and then pulls hard to make sure it won’t come free. 

It’s solid. 

He laughs triumphantly and Junie stirs. You pat her back and make some quiet shushing sounds and Eddie turns around, a slip of his teeth on show as he grimaces. 

"Sorry," he whispers. 

You shake your head. "You're amazing. Thank you." 

If his cheeks weren't pink they are now. He leans into it, hiding one cheek behind his hair. "Stop," he says, exaggerated. 

"I'll make it good, I swear," you whisper, covering Junie's ear with your hand. "I'll make you the best dinner ever. I'm the best at Kraft's mac and cheese, or-" You flush hot, realising that mac and cheese might not be the treat you think it is to him. "Or we can order in," you say, doing the maths in your head. You can't afford it, but maybe Benny-

"Kraft's mac and cheese? You're spoiling me." 

You beam. 

Eddie cleans up the small mess he's made. You're afraid to move quite yet in case Junie's not really sleeping, though she's a dead weight in your arms, and you watch Eddie walk through the room with both caution and ease. 

"Oh, you don't have to do that,” you say. 

He folds the baby blanket in his hands and puts it back on the armrest of the couch before moving on to the stickle bricks, not looking at you as he says, "Just earning my wage, doll." 

You can't watch him clean your home. You wrap a tight arm around Junie and rise to your feet. Eddie sees your approach and his movements grow faster, rushing to clean up the mess before you can stop him. You don't know who starts first but you're both laughing as you grab his wrist. 

"Stop!" you whisper, mock-furious. "Stop cleaning." 

"Sh, you'll wake the baby." 

You shake your head in bemusement. "I'm gonna go set her down. Then mac and cheese." 

"Take your time. Lots of things for me to clean up out here," he says with a mock sincerity. 

You drift down the hall and turn back to sneak a glance at him. He's pulled Muppet Babies out of the TV and is rewinding it around his thumb, a small smile on his lips as he hums the theme tune to himself. 

With Junie finally in bed for the night you take a quick peek at yourself in the mirror on your nightstand and cringe. You look tired. You give yourself a big smile and feel better; a smile makes even your most exhausted features look pretty. 

You slap on some chapstick. You know, to counter your dry lips. It shines. 

Slipping out of the bedroom, you close the door as quietly as you can manage. 

Eddie's standing at the end of the hallway. You expect to feel scared. Instead, you’re perplexed.

"Hi?" you whisper.

"Can I use the bathroom?" 

You laugh. "Yeah. Course you can." 

You have to pass each other in the hallway. His hip bumps your hip, a short rub of fabric. 

You're still thinking about it when he finds you behind the stove, half asleep with your face in your hand. It's the kind of tired where your eyes keep slipping shut, not aching so much as blurry with a heavy head. 

"You okay?" he asks quietly, sitting down at your cramped table. 

You hum. "Hm. Just tired." You give him a guilty smile as you tip the bigger portion into his bowl.  "Sorry. Mac and cheese with bacon bits for you, my hero." 

"Thanks, sweetheart." 

The fatigue ebbs a little. 

Eddie’s easy to talk to. He makes you laugh. When you say goodnight, he looks back over his shoulder twice.

-

It's a funny coincidence that Eddie sees you Friday night. He never grocery shops on a Friday but he knowd when his uncle gets home in the morning there won’t be anything for him to eat after his shift. He takes a sharp turn towards the TV dinners and there you are at the bottom of the aisle with Junie in the seat of the cart. You're talking to her like you'd talk to anyone, though you didn't sound so saccharine sweet over mac and cheese. Close, but not quite. 

"What do you want?" you're asking. "Ham and pineapple or mini pepperoni?" 

Junie holds her hands out for both boxes. You let her take them and the two of you puzzle over the pizzas, heads bent together. 

"Pepperoni, right?" you ask her, quietly enough that he almost misses it. 

"Peroni," Junie agrees. You let her keep the box and put the other one back in the freezer. 

"Pepperoni," you correct, absentminded. 

"Peroni." 

"Pepper-roni." You sound it out slow, looking at a scrap of paper in your hand. 

"Pepper."

"You'll get there. Do you think we need shampoo this week?" You start jovial, but quickly lose your sprightliness. "Maybe I can put some water in the bottle and just… shake it up. No, we definitely need it." 

Eddie watches you look over the cart. He knows exactly what you're thinking, What can I put back?

"Hey!" he calls, walking a little faster to try and hide how he'd been listening. 

You turn on the spot and smile as soon as you see him. Junie, to his delight, is even more excited. 

"Hi," she says, hands thudding along the cart's handlebar. 

"Hi, Junie. How's my favourite neighbour?" 

She babbles. 

"I'm psyched to hear it. How about you, sweetheart?" he asks, parking his cart next to yours. 

You're looking very tired. Still in your work uniform with a hoodie thrown over the top and your smart flats swapped for a pair of converse with the laces undone. You pinch your cheeks up into a big smile. He guesses that with a baby you've gotten very used to hiding how you feel.

You don't hesitate to lay it down thickly. "I'm really good." 

"Yeah? How's Junie liking daycare?" 

You cover your hands with your sleeves. "She loves it. Loves napping again. She-" You frown. "She doesn't like the mornings. Dropping her off. But after." You nod with a tentative smile "Yeah, it's nice to pick her up." 

"Uh-huh. How's work?" 

"What?" 

"How's work for you? How's Benny's?" he prods. 

"You're asking me about work?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Nobody ever asks about work," you say. 

You can't look at him as soon as you've said it, your eyes moving back to the grocery list in hand. It's an old envelope, and it crinkles under your squeezing fingers. 

"Sorry," you mutter. 

Eddie bites back a frown. "Well, I'm asking." 

He holds out his hand for the list and you give it without thinking. He adores your handwriting the second he sees it, scanning the list for anything in this aisle.

"Hey, tell me about it," he prompts at your silence, pushing his cart. It takes you a millisecond to catch up, but when you do you're near frenetic. 

"Well, I messed up like, five different orders today. And when I had Junie it was like they didn't care 'cos she's cute, but now she's not there they get pretty angry pretty quickly." 

"She's like a magic item." 

"Right," you say, sounding like you have no idea what he's talking about. "She was my lucky charm. 'N now when I mess up I gotta practically beg some of those guys to leave Benny alone. He's too nice to me already."

"Are they all terrible?"

"No, the regulars, guys in there everyday, they're all great. They're too generous. Benny's too generous. I know he's fluffing up my tip jar. I hate that. I don't want him-" You flinch. It's strange. Eddie takes a small step closer to you and waits for you to continue, but you've lost all steam. "Sorry, I don't mean to weigh you down with all of this." 

"I asked. And I get it." 

"I don't want him to feel sorry for me." 

"Hey," he says, reaching out for a box of cereal on your list. He presents it to Junie and shakes it around, "who said anything about all that?" 

"No, I know, I just-" 

Junie smiles her approval and he chucks the cereal in your cart with a rattle of metal. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse, I swear. I get it. I- You said he's a nice guy, right? So maybe he doesn't feel sorry for you at all. Maybe he just likes you. He owns that place. I don't think it hurts him to put an extra twenty in your tips." 

Junie reaches up. You turn to her and lean down until your face is a few inches from hers. "I wish I didn't need it," you say quietly. 

"I know." 

Junie puts her hand on your cheek. 

You sniff, not crying or anything like that, only breathing. "Thanks, Junie," you murmur. 

"Mommy," she says. She sounds a little concerned. 

"Let's go get something yummy, baby." You stroke her face lightly. "I'm thinking canned peaches. Or pears, um. Fruit cocktail. And condensed milk," you add, sounding unsure.

"I got a can or two of that laying around," Eddie says, because he knows that shit is expensive. "Wayne hates sweet stuff." 

"I couldn't-" 

"You let me come over for one of those mini pizzas and I'll bring the dessert," he says, like he knows you'll say yes. He doesn't know. Eddie Munson’s an expert in pushing his luck. 

Junie starts clapping her hands together. 

"I think she's decided," you say. 

-

You're terrible with a can opener. You whine to yourself as you struggle to get open the second can. Eddie had insisted on peaches and pears and fruit cocktail, because he wanted to try them all apparently. And then some dramatic speech about little kids getting spoiled.

You can hear him now in the living room with Junie. They're laughing in a way that you're worried about, that guilty, hushed giggling that raises your hackles. 

"Shush," Eddie says, faux-angry, "your mom's gonna hear." 

"Shush," she repeats with much more enthusiasm. 

"You shush! Look, don't do that, Junie, you're gonna get it tangled in your hair," he says. 

You carry the can and can opener with you into the living room. Something about tangled hair gets your heart racing. 

"Eddie, please don't let her get stickies in her hair," you say quickly. 

"They're called stickles," he says, dropping back onto his hands, head over his shoulder to give you a bright-eyed smile. 

"I know what they're called. Junie can't say stickles." 

"Stickles," she says. 

"She couldn't when I got them," you amend. 

He's up quicker than you can really take in, hands extended. "Let me do it," he says. 

He works the can out of your fingers. It's more contact than you've had with somebody who wasn't your daughter in a very long time and it leaves you shell-shocked. Eyes on his nice hands, bigger than yours with thicker fingers and his riot of rings. He presses the can to his chest and hooks the opener, peeking between it and you intermittently. 

"Go see what we made for you," he encourages. "I'll do it." 

His arm brushes yours as he moves to the kitchen and that's worse than his fingers. You rub where he'd touched and drop down on your knees next to Junie, looking over the stickle bricks with a smile. It's a heart, poorly construed and of tens of colours. It falls apart when she tries to pick it up so you help her remake it, cooing. 

"Thanks, baby. This is for me, huh? You're so sweet." Your voice drops to a murmur. "My sweet girl. Wanna cuddle?" 

You open your arms out and she doesn't seem very interested. "Please?" you ask, vying for her waist. 

She lets you pull her into your lap. When you actually start to hug her she does her lovely melting thing that she always does, a floppy fish in your arms but with tiny squeezing hands. You giggle at her antics and lift her up so her face falls into your neck. 

"Thanks for my heart, Junebug." She snuggles her head into your neck, hair squished to your skin. "I love you," you whisper, rubbing her back. 

"The works," Eddie announces grandly as he appears, two bowls in hand.

"Eddie, that's too much for her." 

"She's a growing girl." 

"A growing girl with a tiny tummy," you say turning her around in your arms. "Tell you what, you have that one," you point to the biggest one, "and we'll share that one." 

"How about you share the big one?" he asks, though it hardly sounds like a question. He sits down and places the bowl in her lap. 

You grab the spoon before she can and stir up some of the fruits. "Wow, look at this! You gonna say thanks? Thanks Eddie.”

She doesn’t say thanks — her mouth is too far open to form words. You make quick work of shovelling fruit and condensed milk inside, chilled enough that she shivers in your arms. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” you say agreeably.

She gets enthusiastic enough to take the spoon and you let her, even when she totally mauls the food, eating so loudly that Muppet Babies becomes inaudible. 

Eddie eats slowly. You can feel his gaze. “You’re not gonna have any?” he asks. 

You’d felt it coming. Your answer is clumsy anyways. “No, I will. I just… I always have her leftovers,” you say, sheepish. 

He stands up. 

You’re gonna ask why when Junie tips fruit down your legs, cold on the naked skin of your ankle. You dab at your pajamas with a small sigh. There’s no point in getting upset. She’s a messy eater but they all are at this age. Honestly, it’s nice to see her attempting to use a spoon rather than her hands. 

“You’re doing a good job,” you say. You’re not totally sure who you’re talking to. 

“Tada!” Eddie cheers, wielding a third bowl of fruit. “Swap with me?”

“What?”

“You think Junie’ll come sit in my lap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait, really. He holds out the bowl and you take it on impulse as he sits down heavily. 

He takes her into his lap with a cheerful groan. “Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. There’s enough milk on your chin to bake a cake.” He wipes it with his hand. He doesn’t so much as wince at the mess. 

You stare. He eases the spoon out of her grip and scrapes up a half-spoonful of what looks like pear and feeds it to her with the same kind of deftness of hand that’d taken you months to learn. 

He can feel your gaze, evidently, because he looks up. There, you catch it, that slither of insecurity he hides well. 

You pick up your bowl and start eating. It’s the nicest thing you’ve eaten in almost two years. You’d die for Junie. You’d do worse. But to eat, to know she’s fed — gorged — to know you can sit here and eat this whole bowl of fruit all to yourself and you won’t have to put it down, that’s heaven. It’s better, because you never let yourself have anything nice if you can help it. 

The fruit turns to a lump in your throat and you swallow it, sniffling. Your lashes grow heavy with unshed tears and you keep your gaze resolutely on your dessert. When was the last time you had something this nice all to yourself? When was the last time somebody ever went out of their way to be this nice?

It’s a small gesture and a huge one. A tear dribbles down your cheek. You lick it away and keep on eating. 

-

Eddie starts to come around every Friday. It’s a good deal; you make dinner and he makes dessert. After that first time he makes it his mission to give you heaping bowls too much to eat most of the time. Soon, he’s coming a few days a week, not always long, sometimes until the late hours, though you tell him desserts are a Friday only occasion. He complies grudgingly. 

You make your first friend in years, and it’s so sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

Or what possesses you to offer to cut his hair. 

Eddie's sitting on the couch with Junie, his big thigh to her little one and a picture book spread between them whilst you clean the kitchen. He's not reading to her – she's trying to read to him. She can't read, of course, but she can remember some of the words in relation to the pictures. She pokes at the blue cat and says blue. She pokes at the blue dog and says blue. She also points at the red cat and says blue. It's a learning curve. 

Eddie gives corrections and encouragements just as you would. You smile at him from behind your cup of water. 

"He's red, sweetheart," he murmurs, arm around her shoulder to hold the book's edges. "Red cat." 

"Red cat," she repeats with enough accuracy to make you choke on your water. 

Eddie gasps almost as loud as you do. "Right! Red cat! You're so smart, junebug, I can't believe it," he praises, squeezing her shoulder. His gaze meets yours and he smiles. 

You send him back your sweetest smile. If he wasn't always so nice to you you'd like him anyway because of how he treats Junie, like she's the fucking sun. 

She gets so excited when other people are happy that she starts laughing, standing up and trampling all over his legs to give him a hug. She's given him half hugs, she's fallen asleep by his side and loves to pet his hair, but this is a proper, tactile hug. Her arms wind around his neck with purpose and as soon as his surprise has faded he brings his arms up to hug her in turn, laughing delightedly. 

"You're such a smarty-pants," he praises, rubbing her back with a boyish brashness. 

She squeals as he squeezes her, his fingers digging into her ribs. Never cruel, only tickling her. She eats up every second of it and buries her face in his neck, laughing her wound up baby laugh that always brings a smile to your face. 

"Ooh, she's so smart. First blue, then red. Next you'll be saying indigo, and vermillion, and-" 

He cuts off when Junie gets one of her nails caught in his hair. She jolts and whines like it hurts and he goes rigid. You move forward to play mediator but he's already pulling her away gently and making small shushing sounds. "Chill out," he chides lightly, "I got it. Here." He pulls the hair from under her fingernail and rubs the pad of his thumb over her hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologises, pouting at her scowl. He envelops her hand in his and waves it around. "Forgive me?" 

She doesn't learn her lesson, pushing her hands back into his hair, probably less kind than what’s ideal. Eddie doesn't flinch. 

You sit on the armrest gingerly. "Can I ask you something?"

Eddie looks over Junie’s head. "What's that?" 

"Have you always had long hair?" 

He doesn't balk. "No, of course not. I fu-" He clears his throat. "My mom was the best, and I fit in just like everybody else growing up. When I ended up with Wayne I was-" He smiles. It's the kind of rueful grimace that says, You didn't ask for this.

You smile encouragingly.

He drops his gaze to Junie, worming his arms around her in a loose hug as she continues to play with his hair. "I was mad about everything, and I remember him asking when I wanted to get my hair trimmed and I said ‘never’. Took a few years for it to grow past the awkward stage," he bares his teeth and nods toward his shoulder, as if allowing his past misdemeanour. "But now I'd say it looks pretty sweet." 

"I love your hair," you say. 

Eddie beams. "You don't think it's too long?" 

Emboldened by his reaction, you slip off of the armrest to sit next to him, turning in until your knees touch. Junie, loyal as she is, climbs straight into your lap with a babble. 

You pat her back with one hand and raise the other cautiously for permission. Eddie flares his eyes wide, as if to say, You want to? Go on. 

You take a lock of his hair between your fingers like Junie had moments before. "I like it like this." 

"But?" 

You look at the ends, an inch of limpness where the rest curls. "You haven't had it cut since you were a kid?" 

"Maybe not that long, but it's been a while. I do it myself sometimes." He gestures to his bangs. He speaks quietly. A rarity though not unknown for him to be so hushed. 

You tuck the curl you'd been examining behind his ear carefully. 

"Do you think my hair looks good?" you ask. 

"Sh- Sorry, of course I do. I swear I was gonna-"

You shake your head, laughing. "Not like that. What I mean is, I cut my own hair. I cut Junie's, too, and I could do yours if you wanted me to." 

He goes quiet. 

"Only if you wanted. I know it's a lot of trust, so-" 

"Would you do it now?" 

You hold Junie's head away from yours to prevent a loving headbut. "Right now?" 

"I'm in dire need." 

He throws his big brown puppy dog eyes your way and you couldn't say no if you wanted to. 

You explain how he needs to get it wet first and how the shower head in the bathroom doesn't detach. "It's, like, built into the wall." 

"I could go home, come back?" he suggests. 

"I can do it over the sink?" 

-

Eddie can't remember the last time somebody washed his hair for him. He knows there must've been a time, some place in his life where his mom or dad had done it for him. He thinks that, if he'd asked, Wayne would've tried it once or twice growing up, but now Eddie's most definitely at the age where having his hair washed is a foreign luxury. 

And it does feel luxurious.

It shouldn't; the sink basin is very small as they tend to be in the trailer kitchenettes – small sink, small stove, small small small – and Eddie has to crane his neck. Already the space between his shoulder blades aches from being bent over, and he can't breathe well, smothered by steam. 

But your hands. One shields his eyes from run off, a gesture unnecessary and far from lost on him, while the other massages shampoo into his scalp. He'd been surprised when you started because you hadn't mentioned washing his hair, and he'd said, "You don't have to do that." 

You'd hummed. "Well, it's kind of a waste not to." 

That was that. 

Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and if his eyes weren't already closed they would've fluttered shut. He nibbles his lip and tries very hard not to show outwardly how nice it feels. Your left upper arm rubs against his back as you scrub at his roots, your right soaking wet beside his face, covering his eyes uselessly. He doesn't mention it. All this touching, he doesn't want it to end.

Your proximity honest-to-God sets him on fire. Your body pressed to his is a flame over his ribs. 

"Maybe we shouldn't cut it at all," you say, stroking wet bangs away from his forehead. "It's soooo long." 

"Can’t do it?" he teases.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay? I'm gonna rinse." 

It's a comforting process. You dip your cup into the water. It fills with a wet glug, the rim shushing against the basin's bottom. You hold it over his head and pour carefully, heat caressing his scalp as the soap is washed away. 

It's over too soon. You grab the towel you'd procured and tuck it around his shoulders, wringing all the excess water from his curls back into the sink. You encourage his head up wordlessly and he stands there, arms useless against the countertops edge, water sloughing down his face as you press the ends flat between your hands. 

You lift his head and push his hair back with your hands, raking your fingers through it and laughing as soon as his face appears. "Eddie! I'm sorry, you're totally drowning." 

He chuckles. They fade away as you pinch the corner of the towel and start to dab his face dry, dragging the rough material over his cheeks with an expression he can't read on your pretty features. Almost pensive, not quite. 

"There," you say under your breath. "Saved you." 

"My hero." 

You smile at him softly before spinning on your heel. "I gotta find the hairbrush. And the good scissors." You look into the living room quickly and then turn to the hall leading to your bedroom. 

Eddie looks into the living room too. Junie's not upto much, only watching TV, unusually subdued. He doesn't disturb her despite the itch to go over and play.

One of the muppets starts laughing about something and she laughs too. 

"What are you smiling about?" you whisper from behind him. 

"Nothing," he says quickly.

You raise your eyebrows. "She has a nice laugh, right? Doesn't matter how bad I feel, she laughs and everything's okay for a little while." 

He feels a fond stab in his chest. "Her laugh's like yours." 

"I guess we do sound the same." 

You do, but it's not really what he'd meant. 

The metal sound of scissors snapping. You wield them at him faux-threateningly and shepherd him into a chair you've dragged to the middle of the kitchen. 

Eddie fights goosebumps as you pull a brush through his hair, loses when you take a lock at the front between two fingers and stop about an inch and a half from the end. 

"I'm gonna do that much, okay?" 

You're a quiet hairdresser. Eddie doesn't care, he can talk for Indiana, but there's something so sweetly simple about the quietude, just your hands in his hair, the snipping of your scissors and Junie's occasional excited chattering. You start to hum a song Eddie doesn't recognise about halfway through. It's melancholy. He doubts you realise what you're doing. 

You draw silent as you round to the front. Eddie watches your hands work for what feels like hours. You have really pretty hands, not perfect, burnt fingertips and neat little nails. They smell like honey hand soap.

You pull two locks from the front together to make sure they're the same length. His curls will hide any discrepancy, he knows from experience, but he doesn't want to tell you that. Selfishly, he wants that extra time with you this close. 

You work your way between his legs to comb his half-dried bangs. Eddie looks up at you with wide eyes.

"You want me to trim these, too?" you ask quietly. 

"If you please." 

You huff a laugh through your nose and start to trim his bangs carefully. He closes his eyes, and maybe it's the fact that he can't see you that gives him the confidence to reach out for your hip, a touch that can't be defined as amicable. He curls his fingers into the soft material of your shirt and feels the heat of your skin underneath. 

You draw closer, as close as you can be. 

"What made you decide on bangs?" you ask. 

"Zits, mostly." 

He can feel your laugh under his hand. 

"I used to… I used to powder my face," you confide, a murmur, "like, an inch thick to try and hide everything. Being pregnant makes you so-" You pause to snip some hair, comb it away. It tickles his face. "Well, it makes you spotty. Or it made me spotty. It actually made me really sick." 

"That's must've sucked," he says earnestly. 

"It- Yeah. I guess it did. I don't know." 

He hadn't meant to bring up something unhappy, but he's hungry to know. "Were you on your own?" 

"Mostly." 

"What was the worst part?" 

"Being scared all the time."

He'd been expecting morning sickness or aching feet. "You were scared?" 

"I honestly thought I was gonna die, Eddie." 

He opens his eyes and leans back in his chair, hand flexing over your hip, as he tries to tamp down his surprise. 

"It was," you mess with his bangs with the tip of your ring finger, "hard. I felt sick all the time, and when I didn't I would make myself sick worrying about her. What if I eat something or I catch something and it hurts her? What if- what if it all works out perfectly and then I can't look after her?" 

"Did it work out perfect?" 

You rub your lips together. "Uh, I guess so. It took a long time, and it hurt," you sound especially unhappy with that part. 

He strokes up your waist, wanting to soothe the small crease between your eyebrows. "By yourself?" 

"Yeah, by myself." 

"I'm sorry." 

You tuck his hair behind his ear and grin at him. "Now what are you sorry for?" Your hand lingers near his cheek. Slowly, you turn it, pressing the knuckle of your index finger into the skin under his eye and rubbing a small line. He worries he’s in love with you right then and there. "Not like you're the one who knocked me up." 

You drop your hand and Eddie really doesn't want you to go anywhere, his grip kind but steadfast, bringing the other arm behind your back in a loose hug. "Who was it?" 

"Just some guy. Nobody. Nobody worth thinking about." 

"How old were you?" he asks. 

"Why are you asking me all this stuff?"

"I wanna know about you." 

You bring your hands to the towel around his neck and pull on it mildly. "I was sixteen. Seventeen when I had her." 

He drags his fingertips up and down the small of your back lightly, almost like he's playing guitar. "I'm sorry you were all by yourself. That young. When I was sixteen I was still watching The Bugs Bunny Show."

You giggle and your hands move up to the side of his neck. He can hardly breathe, afraid to dispel whatever enchantment it is that he's under. 

"Could be worse, huh? I'm nineteen and I still watch Muppet Babies," you joke. 

"Why wouldn't you? It's the pinnacle of modern television." 

"Yeah?" 

Your beaming smile hits him straight in the chest. He thinks about how beautiful you look and can't stop, hiding his face in your stomach to stop from saying something stupid, laughing loud. You laugh in tandem, hugging the back of his head until your giggles peter out. 

A small hand on his arm. You both turn at the same time and find a very unhappy Junie.

"What?" you ask her. Then, teasing, "Are you jealous?" 

You lean down to pick her up. Eddie's gutted to lose your touch and then quickly exuberant when Junie ducks out of your arms to grab at his legs. 

"Oh my god, yes," he says, holding out his hands. 

Junie tries to take them and he slips them under his arm, pulling her onto his thigh with a big sigh. The sigh is half the fun, a theatrical reluctance when really he's always happy to have her climbing on him. 

As soon as she's in his lap she's pleased, turning her head so she can watch the TV across the room. 

You roll your eyes at his smug smile. "Shut up. She just wants what other people have." 

"And you had me?" 

"Shut up, Munson, seriously," you say. You don't sound half as mad as you're trying to. 

Eddie takes a drying curl between his fingers and pokes at the side of Junie's face. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, grinning when your daughter starts to squirm on his thigh. 

He grins at her and tickles her until she's curling in with her chin dropped to her chest, smiling despite herself. 

His fondness colours every word as he croons, "I got you." 

Junie sounds about as outraged as a toddler can be when he tickles her nose and then drags the tip of the freshly trimmed curl under her eye. He draws a big circle around one of her cheeks until it's kissing her chin. She dissolves into giggles while squirming to get away from him and so he stops, only for her to blink and tug at his wrist. 

He tickles her until she's screaming. 

You pause on your knees where you'd been sweeping up his trimmed hair to look up at her and he's struck with guilt. "Y/N, you don't have to do that. I'll do it." 

"No, you're okay." 

Eddie finds his gaze drawn to your thighs, spread out as they are in your kneeling position, and then stolen by Junie as she almost topples off of his lap. 

"I think…" he begins quietly, speaking to Junie though it's just as much for you, "that your mom deserves something nice for my haircut. What do you think?" 

"I don't think that," you say. 

"Wasn't asking you," he says seriously. Back in baby mode he continues,  "What's mommy like, huh? What's her favourite thing in the whole world, besides you?" 

"Sleep," you say. 

"Well, I can't help you there." 

"You help me there all the time. Junie sleeps like a log every Friday." 

"Food coma," he says knowledgeably. 

"You really don't have to get me anything, Eddie. My services were administered charitably." 

He pushes his hands behind Junie's back and pulls her to his chest before standing. When he has her secure in one arm he pulls the chair back to your small table and tucks it in.

"Get up," he says to you. "I'll do it, alright? Swap with me." 

You ignore him until he starts kicking you in the leg. "You're ridiculous!"

"You're ridiculous. Seriously, get up. You're not a serf." He returns your glare. "I'm a big boy, I can clean up after myself." 

"It's my house." 

"If you don't let me-" 

"Christ! Okay." You drop the dustpan and brush sullenly, wiping your hands together as you stand before taking Junie out of his arms. "I'll make dinner." 

"No you won't! I'm gonna order takeout," he says factually, already on his knees and sweeping. 

"No you're not." 

"I am. Me and June already talked about it. She's craving Marino's pizza." 

"I'm not gonna let you use the phone." 

"I'll walk to my place and order the pizza to here." 

"Eddie-" 

"Why are you being a hardass?" he asks. 

"Fine! God, clean up your gross hair and order your stupid pizza. You're making me crazy," you say, collapsing onto the sofa with a little oomf, Junie's weight hitting you hard in the chest. She moves into a sitting position and pulls your shirt up, hands moving across the space under your chest. 

Eddie throws himself into cleaning all the mess you'd made for him, the hair and the towel and the sopping wet draining board. He washes the dirty baby bowl on the side and fills up one of Junie's bottles with water, then a glass for you. He hasn't seen either of you drinking a thing since he's been here, likely his fault for distracting you. 

He's about to call for pizza when he peers past the cabinets and sees you dozing on the couch. He decides pizza can wait until tomorrow; it's later than he realised. 

Junie's halfway across the room with Mr. Bear playing make believe. She talks and talks and talks, gibberish to him but what's likely an unending, complicated storyline, no doubt. 

Eddie approaches with the bottle already outstretched. "Junie," he says, and when she doesn't answer, "Junebug. Junie. Junie." Each iteration of her name softer and sweeter than the first, hoping to entice her in. 

He holds the bottle in front of her face.

She finally looks up with a pout. 

"For you," he says, offering the water. 

She seems mildly interested as she takes it, turning back to her teddy and talking around the teat like it's not there. 

You're struggling to keep your eyes open. Eddie gives the room a quick once over before kneeling down in front of you, tugging your shirt down to cover your exposed tummy as he says, "I should head home." 

You blink at him and turn onto your side, cheek squishing into the couch cushion. 

"Okay? Why don't you and Junebug head to bed?" he asks, using a tone not far from what he'd use with your daughter. 

"You know, her full name's Juniper," you whisper. 

He didn't know. "Really? I love that." 

You wrinkle your nose, sounding very tired as you continue, "But someone told me it sounded like a name for a cat. So I've called her Junie ever since."

"It doesn't sound like a cat's name," he placates. "It's beautiful. You chose well." 

"Yeah?" 

Eddie smiles at you fondly, eyes tracing down your nose to your lips, shiny with balm. He tilts his head to the side to mimic yours. He could kiss you. 

"Sounds like the name of an elf. Juniper Lightfoot, or… Goldwind. She could even be a mage. Juniper the Brave." 

"Juniper the Loveliest," you say, and then grin. "Juniper the Hungriest." 

"Juniper the All Great and Hungriest," Eddie says decidedly. 

"Would you make her a hero, in your game?" you ask. 

"Of course I would. She wouldn't even need to divide, she'd just conquer." 

"What about me?" 

"What, would you be a hero?" 

You nod. He doesn't know why, but he thinks his answer is going to hold a lot of weight with you. 

"You would be," he starts quietly, words painted slowly as he raises a hand to rest on your wrist, pinky finger spread over the hill of your thumb, "a fighter. With insight and survival." 

"I don't know what that means," you say. 

He leans in. "It means yes, you'd be a hero. You'd save kingdoms. Slay dragons." He squeezes your wrist. 

"I think I better leave all that stuff for Junie. I'll just cheer you guys on from the sidelines." 

"You're her mom, she can't do it without you. And even if she could I bet she wouldn't want to. Where's all the fun in guts and glory if you can't share it?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

Your eyes shut. Eddie doesn't know if it's from fatigue or a want to end this conversation. He feels marginally embarrassed for descending into nerd metaphor with you, but he thinks it's the kind of thing you needed to hear. He thinks if Junie could understand how often her mom prioritises her and misses out for her she'd want to fix that. Eddie doesn't know you half as well as she does and it breaks his heart sometimes to watch you insist on a smaller portion, to watch you put things back at the grocery store because she wants a box of milk duds, even to watch you wear yourself out ironing baby clothes in the only pair of pajamas you own. 

"Make sure you lock the deadbolt behind me," he says carefully. You hum. He gives your wrist one last squeeze. 

Junie looks tired in that she's getting agitated, whimpering under her breath. Eddie ducks down to give her upper arm a good rub. "Why don't you go cuddle with your mom?" he asks her, turning her by the shoulder so that you're in her eye-line. "Go have a lie down." 

He doesn't know whether what he says makes any difference but you extend your arms out and Junie walks towards you, big staggered steps that make him laugh to himself as he pushes into his unlaced converse. 

"Don't forget to lock up," he says in place of a farewell. 

"Goodnight, Eddie," you say. 

He waves. You're both too tired to wave back. 

He's surprised to find his Uncle Wayne still home when he gets in, shoving into his work boots with a grunted hello.

"Hey." 

"Did you cut your hair?" Wayne asks, perplexed, a little gruff. 

"Junie's mom did it for me." 

"'Junie's mom,'" Wayne quotes dryly, slugging his bag over his shoulder. He's heard all about Junie's mom.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck and splutters when a big hand claps his back, a demonstration of Wayne's pity as he passes through the open door. 

Eddie spins to watch him jog down the steps. "We're friends," Eddie calls. 

"Don't be dumb," his uncle says without turning back. 

"I'm not exactly known for being smart," Eddie says to himself, cheeks heated by a furious blush. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | multi-chapter

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𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: after realising you’ve gone into heat, L does all he can to help you before he loses control

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut, female reader, has omegaverse themes (not really about it, just being in heat), soft dom L, praise, degradation, choking, dry humping, sir kink, very heavy breeding, knotting, tiny bit of brat reader, tiny bit of feral L, reader doesn’t want kids, use of pet names (honey, sweetheart, darling, baby, pretty girl, puppy, pet), L calls himself your owner once, nesting, reader goes into subspace, aftercare

• request by anon: can we get a dom!L x reader smut with some degradation ;)

L was usually up to date with your heats, tracking them and waiting for symptoms to suggest you were in preheat but with this new Kira case he simply lost track of time. In his defence it wasn’t entirely obvious when you would be going into heat, having one every couple months meant it was quite irregular and could be a week or so later than your previous one. of course, nesting during your preheat was the most obvious sign; L had become accustomed to missing pillows and shirts, sometimes even his boxers. 

he had spent too long at the detective compound, his scent slowly evaporating from your shared apartment. as per his request, you were also part of the case so that the man could ‘keep a better eye on you, sweetheart, can’t let my pretty little omega get lonely now, can i?’ as he had put it. yet here you sat, surrounded by blanket after blanket with a few pillows worked into the mix, a collection of L’s clothes in the centre. while he had noticed you asking for a week off work, you putting it down to a cold, it took him having to see your nest for him to connect the dots of his instinctual neglect.

walking through the apartment door for the first time in three days, he was stunned to see you in the living room, laying peacefully in the middle of your nest.

oh.

now it made sense. trying not to wake you, he carefully trod to where you lay only to be met with a sight he couldn’t resist. you were soundo, laying on your left side while hugging a pillow you had yourself wrapped around as you subconsciously humped away at it, hips quickly rutting against it. he takes in your body, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of panties that had a wet patch seeping through the front. his poor baby. he knew he should have realised sooner, you asking for a week off 4 days ago means you would probably be in heat by now, the preheat only lasting a couple days. while it may not seem like a long time to betas, if you ignore a heat or rut for long enough, it can cause some serious pain. maybe he wasn’t the worlds greatest detective after all.

sitting crossed legged just outside your nest, he placed a hand on your bare ankles, slowly trailing his hand up to test your reaction. you let out a light whimper to his touch, speeding up your grinding as his hand neared the top of your thigh. you were definitely in heat, there was nothing pre about this. by how long you had been throwing your hips against the pillow, he gathered that it wasn’t enough, too little friction, for you to cum. for that, you needed him.

‘darling? come on honey, you have to wake up for me, yeah?’ picking his hand up so only his fingertips touched you, he trailed them around the skin of your thigh making random patterns. the sensation tickled causing you to jerk your leg and wake up to his scent consuming the apartment. turning around as you sat up, you finally noticed the man sitting about a meter away, not daring to enter your nest.

a smile appeared on your face, ‘i didn’t think you’d be home, you were so invested in the case i didn’t want to bother you. i missed you’

‘you should have told me sweetheart, i should have figured it out; i’m sorry’ throwing yourself onto your lover, he knew that was your way of saying you forgave him. even though you were emotional at the sight of your boyfriend, your instincts didn’t take long to kick in. L smelled so sweet you couldn’t resist biting down on his neck, right onto his scent gland, making the man let out a quick, low moan.

you jumped back immediately covering your nose with your arm, burying it into the crevice of your elbow. ‘i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to do that you just smelled so sweet and you’ve been gone so long your scent started to disappear and i missed you so much, i-’ even though he had been your alpha for 5 years now, you both hated doing things to each other without explicit consent even if it hinders your heat or rut. like before, he places his hand on your leg, trailing up and he moved to lean over you, now sat up on his knees. ‘L you should go i know you have work and i have at least 2 days left, if you stay i’ll need you to stay for all of it but i don’t expect you to do that.’ rambling had become a normal thing in the relationship. L will talk about the case and his theories while you talk about yours, always linking things to each other and he always listened; not this time. 

as he moves his hand to cup the side of your face, moving your hair out of the way, L speaks, ‘i’ve been with you for every heat you’ve had during this relationship, that’s not going to change now pretty girl.’ being only centimetres away from you, it was only now that your scent invaded him. he had smelt it when he walked through the door but he was too focused on seeing you to pay attention to what it meant. everyone knew what it meant. heats can trigger ruts. 

L knew he had to control himself, it’s you that he has to take care of, not him.

you couldn’t take it anymore, you pulled him in for what you thought would be a long kiss, feeling his lips leave yours just as soon as they touched. a defeated look crossed your face, a small pout present on your lips.

‘i want to take care of you honey but i’m not going to invade your nest, that’s your space.’ so that’s why he was hesitant. ‘i want you L, i want you here.’ you flop down into the middle of your nest, raising your arms to the sky, tilting them towards him as a way of beckoning him in. he gives you a look that you know is asking if you’re sure but are. you’ve never been so sure about needing him as you have now. nodding, you watch him step over the surrounding blankets, kneeling in between your spread thighs.

trailing a finger over your pantie covered slit, he pushes your knee to the side seating himself closer to you. ‘my poor baby. i’ve neglected you, haven’t i?’ you buck your hips up at his words, ones you know are condescending but god do they make you feel validated. shushing your whines he pushes your hips back down to the floor. ‘it’s okay honey, i’m here to take care of you, to give you what you need. you just have to do one little thing for me, can you do that?’

you move your upper half to rest on your elbows beside you, not exactly at L’s height but not laying down either. nodding quickly, you sit yourself up some more to listen to his words. ‘never again do you hide yourself from me. i don’t care if i’m working or solving a case or even sleeping; you never hide away.’ he reached forward to fully lean over you, his scent becoming a drug.

swiftly wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, you begin grinding against him desperate for friction. he was taking too long, you didn’t care for his niceness when all you needed was to be fucked dumb. rubbing your slick against him had him harder than he’d ever been before. he wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer without going into rut. your body, slick and scent encased him to the point he thought he was suffocating but my god if this isn’t the best way to go.

‘calm down honey, you’ll get me, you have to be patient.’ he tried to lift himself up, to focus himself on you and not how badly he wanted to knot and breed you. you had both decided on not having kids, it wasn’t really an interest for either of you but the urge to breed never went away, not with the instincts you were both born with. but there’s medication for that, ones you both take. he’ll have to remember to make you take it when you feel better.

‘no L, i’ve waited too long! need you now or i’ll die!’ you exclaimed humping him just as fast as you did the pillow earlier on. grabbing your jaw, he squeezed making your mouth fall open and a small whine escape from the pain. ‘take your legs off me now or i’ll walk out of here and let you be all hot and bothered by yourself, is that what you want pet? how many times have you cried these past couple days from your fingers not being enough, you don’t want to deal with that again do you?’ in an instant, your arms were by your side while your legs rested on the ground.

looking up so helplessly to him, he feels a tang of regret for his harsh threat. your eyes watering so much he saw his reflection. at this point, you didn’t know if you were on the verge of crying because of his threat, his desire to keep you untouched for as long as possible or because he was right. your fingers were never enough, not after you’ve had him inside you; sure you can make yourself cum but it’s never as good as when L does it for you. not even your tiny little vibrator he bought you for moments like this could satisfy your urges. you needed him to breed you and you needed it now.

‘i’m sorry, sir, i just really really missed you.’ you knew putting emphasis on the sir and really would make him give you what you want, or so you thought.

‘i know, my sweet thing, but a detective knows best,’ he moves a hand from beside your head to trail it down your body, stopping at your tits to kneed them. like any good detective, he knows the ins and outs of the cases he works and tonight he’s working you. L knows what places make you keen for him, arching your back to push yourself closer to him. he knows how sensitive your entire body gets when you go through your heats, how easy it is to make you submit to him no matter how bratty you try to act. ‘and i know where you need me.’

moving his hand further, he grips your waist and grinds himself against you once, twice then pulls his hips away. tease. how he has the strength to tease you is beyond him, pushing down his urge to rip you thin panties clean off and breed you right now is overwhelming. perhaps him grinding into you was his urges and him puling away was his control. he didn’t know; he didn’t care either.

cupping your mound, he pressed his hand flush against you and you seized the opportunity. working your hips against his hand was hard but it was more rewarding than your fingers. he didn’t pull away this time instead choosing to grind his hand into you at your fast pace. although covered, the pressure was directly on your clit right where you ached the most. whining, you grabbed his hand trying to push it even further against you. you’ll take anything you could get at this point.

warmth consumed you as you saw stars merge into your vision, throwing your head back eliciting a loud moan. ‘that’s it sweetheart, you’ve been so good now that attitude’s gone i think you deserve a little more, what’d you say?’ 

furiously nodding, you sat up moving him with you. this time, he kissed you and didn’t pull away. your tongue mixed with his while he moved to place a hand on your neck, barely squeezing. lifting you by your thighs with his other hand, he placed you to straddle him as he fucked up into you.

‘i’m sorry darling, i can’t hold back any longer. i have to fuck you, have to breed you; is that what you want?’

you moved from his lips to his neck, roughly biting down. he moved you off, flipping you to your stomach, pulling your ass in the air causing you to arch.

yesyesyes this is what you needed, what you craved.

you couldn’t see, your head buried in the pile of L’s clothes, but you heard what you assumed to be L’s shirt hit the floor before the roughness of yanking denim against skin. in an attempt to help, to feel more of him, you managed to pull his top over your head as he ripped your panties down the side, chucking them away outside the nest after giving them a quick sniff.

your slick sticks to the insides of your thighs as L puled them further apart, pushing the head of his cock into your quivering hole. you both let out a visceral moan, feeling him go further as you push yourself towards him. ‘taking me so well, sweetheart, almost there honey.’ you knew how big he was, how full he made you feel and it made you want him even more; feeling the short ache when he first entered you was a feeling to never be forgotten. he’d been so gentle up to now, caressing your face, soft kisses but as he pushed the final two inches in, he couldn’t hold his urges back. slamming into you, bottoming out, you wail revealing in the stretch of him inside you.

starting with fast, gentle thrusts he humps into you. he didn’t want to hurt you, not until you asked, until your pretty pussy squeezed him so tight he had to have his way with you. grabbing the upper part of both your arm, he crossed them behind your back, using the new grip to go deeper into you. you cry out his name, chanting anything that comes to mind.

a chain of L, L, L followed by a series of uh uh nha’s left your lips as he pounded harder. moving his hand from holding your wrists, he reaches his hand around the front of your neck, roughly pulling you upward your back now against his chest. trailing down, his other hand starts lightly rubbing your clit; the difference compared to his harsh thrusts almost sends you over the edge. ‘gonna cum sir, please let me cum.’

speeding up his fingers rubbing circles on your aching bud he speaks, ‘so needy baby, only fucked you for two minutes and you’re already begging me to let you cum. this needy little cunt knows how her alpha is. go on then, cum.’

his words had you tumbling over the edge the moment they left his mouth. one of the only things you enjoyed about your heats was the fact that it made your orgasms so much stronger. adrenaline coursing through your veins had you clawing anything you could, L’s arms and neck as you reached behind you becoming littered in scratches. despite this being your second orgasm of the night, you sill needed more. you could feel yourself slipping away into the space where everything felt the best.

head fuzzy, you go limp against your partner, your headspace allowing you to feel everything leaving you unable to react apart from your tight grip on L’s wrist.

‘doing so well honey,’ while he may not have noticed your heat, he did notice your shallow breaths as your grip got tighter around him. you were barely there but the thought of finally having him breed you kept you partly present. as he slipped you off his aching cock, he continued, ‘gotta stay with me, can you do that for me, pretty?’ he lightly pushed your body forward, the hand once on your clit now flexing on your stomach as he moved backwards to turn you around.

you could barely comprehend his words, now only feeling disappointment at the feeling of his cock leaving you, let alone his motions as he spun you around. laying you on your back, he once again parted your legs as he knelt between them. his touch was softer, similar to how he touched you when he first walked in. resting a hand on your cheek, cupping your face, he lightly jerked you making sure you were still with him. ‘need to use your words darling, i can’t give you what you want if you don’t talk to me.’

opening your eyes, you looked to see him now leaning over you. resting your hand against his, you nuzzled your face into it giving a small smile, ‘breed. please.’ your voice was quiet, the thoughts in your head being too loud, his scent overwhelming you. 

his length twitched at your words, so contradictory to the way you said them. placing a light kiss on your lips he tilted his head to watch as he pushed himself into you once again. the stretch was still there, only this time because you could feel his knot forming. he sheaved himself inside you in one shallow thrust which had you arching into him. 

tilting his head back up to face yours, L kissed you again this time more loving and heated. he knew how much you could handle, how much it took before you slipped into your empty headspace that had you feeling so good and he was more than willing to take you there. ‘you feel so good, slutty pussy like yours always feels so good. want me to breed you, be full of your owners cum? huh, puppy? i’ve already fucked you dumb it would be stupid not to fill you up; maybe this time it’ll take, have some pups of our own.’ you knew that was his instincts talking, you didn’t want kids, but fuck did it make you feel good to hear him speak like that. you all but scream out a moan as his knot breaches your hole now only allowing him to harshly grind into you, ‘yes sir, please breed me, want to be so full of you, have your pups.’ 

one particularly harsh movement had him hitting that spot over and over again which had you once again cumming around him, that headspace consuming you, you grip on his hand becoming looser as you felt your body go limp.

grabbing that hand, L held it with all the tenderness he could must as he dipped his head into the nape of your neck, brushing against your ear as he let out a whispery moan, the huskiness of his voice becoming clear. his grip on your hand tightened, you only slightly holding onto it, as he came deep inside of you. he had knotted you, the warm liquid filling you more full than you had felt for months. it felt so good, you could feel it moving inside if you as he came some more, the final squirts were what tipped you over the edge to be completely devoured by subspace. your laboured breathing gave L the conformation he needed to know you were completely gone, you had succumbed to the pleasure and let it eat you alive. he waited a couple minutes for his knot to soften, whispering praise and sweet nothings into your ear occasionally kissing you knuckles of the hand he still had a firm grasp of.

pulling himself out of you, he picked up one of the tees from the small hill of his clothing you had used for your nest using it to wipe away most of your sweat and stray cum. chucking it to the side, he picked up another one softly trying to wake you from your fucked out state. while you weren’t entirely asleep yet, revelling in the pleasure he had brought you, it faded in and out of your mind trying to entice you. letting out a soft hum, you felt him lift you up and slip the tee over your head, you senses clearing but the feeling never faded.

while he slipped on his boxers from before, you rolled over trying to feel for him. hushing you, he laid beside you. ‘it’s okay, honey, you did so well. i’m so so proud of you, taking me so well. my good girl.’ pulling you onto his chest he kissed your temple softly tracing patterns on your arm.

as you finally gave into the nagging thoughts of sleep, you felt L pull you closer while telling you how much he adores you. he may forget things sometimes but the one thing he could never forget is how much he truly loves you.

#Death Note #death note smut #death note x reader #death note x you #L Lawliet #l lawliet x reader #x reader #smut #fluff #omegaverse #a/b/o #tw a/b/o #d/s dynamic

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𝗲𝗴𝗼

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Druig was the most infuriating Eternal, it was about time you showed him just how much you hated him

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut, porn with no plot, hate sex, d/s dynamics, oral (f & m receiving), AFAB reader, degradation, praise towards the end, sub/brat reader, hard dom! Druig, partly wall sex, hinting to a relationship but never fully said, a lot of dialogue, one time use of daddy, one line of breeding, briefly uses his powers on you once with permission, overuse of the word pretty, sweet sweet aftercare,, not proofread!!

based on the song Ego by Sarah Kennedy

NOT PROOFREAD and had to cut parts out

Baby stroke my ego

Will you tell me please? And watch my heart take a hold of me

‘you’re infuriating.’ you breathed out, back against the hard wall. his hands roamed every part of you they could get to. ‘that’s what you said last time but i still fucked you senseless.’ his lips ghosted every inch of your neck as he left as many marks as possible. ‘yeah but...’ you trailed off as he sucked on your sweet spot just below your ear. letting out a low, quiet moan you bucked your hips against his, moving your hands to roam his chest only for his hands to leave your body and grab your arms. ‘last time still isn’t the best fuck i’ve had.’ you were riling him up.

‘shut up and stay still like my good little whore, yeah darlin?’ his accent was thick, his eyes clouded with lust as he moved from your neck to your face and stared at you while moving to grip your wrists in his left hand above your head. trying to lean forward in a pitiful attempt to catch his lips, you fail and a hand wraps itself around your neck. ‘no baby, you gotta tell me please.’ it wasn’t even three minutes in and he had already had enough of your shit.

Baby stroke my ego Will you kiss my pride? And watch the lights change inside my eyes

‘you don’t need an ego boost.’ his lips hovered over yours. he was so close to giving you what you wanted but you knew he wouldn’t until you relented first. with his incredible strength holding your wrists against the wall above you, he gave you no room for upper body movement so you had no choice. wrapping your legs around his waist you pulled him closer, his lips almost colliding with yours. ‘come on pretty,’ he whispered quieter than a mouse, ‘use your words for me.’ and so you did.

‘please Dru, please fuck me. i want you, need you.’ moving his right hand from your neck, he grabbed your thigh hiking it further up his hip as he began grinding his hard, clothed girth against you. he left no time for you to protest as his lips smashed against yours in a rage filled kiss. slowly trailing his hand up from your thigh to your hip, to your tits, back to your neck and finally resting it on your jaw; he tilted your head up giving him better access to deepen the kiss. 

teeth against teeth, tongues fighting each other neither of you wanting to give in yet all it took for your guard to crumble was a light bite to your bottom lip as he pulled away leaving you whining.

If I could walk into your mind Take your hand and show you mine Show you things you wouldn't like to see but you would like to be

‘i’ll let you cum here if i get to go inside your mind.’

‘Druig we’ve never done that...’ you got quieter as the sentence went on and before you could continue you were interrupted. ‘i’ll be here the whole time but if you don’t want to we can go straight to my bedroom.’ even through all the bickering and sarcastic comments this moment defined him as a person. he would argue with you for days but the moment he had you at his mercy he wanted to make sure you were on board. Druig might have been a dick but he cared and that was evident now more than ever.

‘do it. take control of me.’ he would only ever go inside your mind fully when you gave him permission but never had he used it in a sexual sense. the hatred was never true, sure you almost punched him a few times and sure you’ve threatened each other on countless occasions but never have you really hurt him. he treated you well when he wasn’t bullying you to the point of hate fucking.

watching as he looked up at your from between your thighs, you saw his pretty blue eyes turn gold before you lost all controllable feeling. you could still see what was happening, my god you could feel it too but it was heightened. you had no control over yourself but you still knew what was happening.

still looking at him you could see he was kissing along your thigh so how was it you could still hear his voice. keep your arms against the wall pretty girl, just like that with your wrists crossed. if he was in your mind does that mean he could talk to you through your thoughts? there was no way else he could talk since his mouth was busy leaving bites and bruises against the plush skin of your thigh.

Baby stroke my ego Say it from your knees Some say it's evil I say it's me

having full control of yourself again, as much control as you could around Druig, you pulled him up by his jackets collar till he was up against you yet again. smirking at your dusty cheeks, coloured with the glow of your orgasm, he tried to kiss you but you put your index finger against his mouth before he had the chance. ‘i’m not stroking your ego anymore.’ turning yourselves around, you now had him up against the wall in a place you were not even two minutes ago.

‘no baby course not, you’ll be too busy stroking something else.’ he gripped your jaw tilting his head up to get a better look at you before pushing your shoulder down until you were on your knees. pawing at his trousers, you freed him from his boxers; his tip was leaking pre cum begging for you to touch it. instantly you places him in your mouth not hesitating to take him as deep as you could. he bucked his hips at your eagerness pushing him further down your throat causing you to choke and gag. it only spurred him on further as he watched drool dribble at the base of his cock as your nose pressed against his pelvis.

before he could release, he swiftly pulled you off of him. ‘need to cum inside you, sweetheart, not yet.’

Baby lose your patience Take what you need See it's fine to be like me

leading you into his bedroom, he dropped you in the centre of his king sized bed, rippling the sheets as you bounced slightly at the soft impact. the primal need had taken over the both of you; your clothes being all but ripped off.

Druig was harsh, cruel even, as he entered you being graceful enough to give you only a few seconds before he started his assault on your dripping core. wrapping a hand around your pretty neck his face twisted at raw pleasure.

‘who’s. your. fucking. daddy?’ he growled tightening his hold around your throat, each word was punctuated with a harsh thrust as he pounded into you relentlessly. ‘huh? who owns you and this pretty fucking body?’ his grip never loosened but you didn’t want it to. struggling to find words you brought your hand up from his thigh to his arm and tapped twice signalling you needed more air.

loosening his hand but still keeping it firmly on your neck he allowed you time to breathe while still fucking into you. ‘you, Druig, always you.’ you spoke as you turned your head to face his wanting to feel all of him. knowing what you needed he brought his lips to yours once again. it was always heated when the two of you were like this, pure hatred coursing through each of your veins. you had lost count the amount of times Druig had you like this, there was no point in keeping track because you know it would just happen again, over and over. both of you refusing to admit it but it was clear as day; the purposeful teasing and arguing, one always finding a flaw with what the other is doing leading to a fight that ends up with you at his mercy. 

If I could walk into your mind Take your hand and show you mine Show you things you wouldn't like to see But you would like to be

by now, you were a fucked out mess and he noticed that. ‘look so pretty when you cum around me darlin, you’re my good little fuck toy, yeah?’ he was trying to keep you from slipping away, your exhaustion obvious. nodding in response you squeezed his hand before speaking in a soft quiet voice, ‘breed me Dru, wanna feel all of you, all of the time.’ he moans at your words, burying his face in your chest you could feel his breathing get heavier and heavier until you brought your free hand up to face to pull him into one final kiss.

feeling his hips stutter and his rhythm grow in speed, you moved your hand from his cheek to his hair you tugged lightly still intertwining tongues and hands. that final feeling, you pulling him back to you, he whimpered as he came inside you; painting your walls white he continued lazily fucking you through his orgasm as your body became too sensitive too quickly. moaning in pain and pleasure, you took your hand away from his hair and tried with all your might to push at his chest but instead only lightly brushed against it.

understanding your silent message he lifted himself off of you, finally removing his hand from yours and pulling out of you. cum dripped out of your weak hole, ‘my beautiful, beautiful girl.’ he used his thumb to swipe at the dribbling liquid only to push it back into you. a whine escaped your lips as you gave a feeble attempt to close your legs, stopped by Druig’s muscly arms. he gave a low chuckle before reaching over to his bedside table and opening his drawer in search of a handkerchief.

as he wiped away the mess, you tried to roll over already half swept away by the call of slumber. stopping his motions, Druig throws the handkerchief somewhere in the room and cuddles down behind you. lifting your fucked out body up so he could place an arm under your neck and the other wrapped around your waist, he found one of your hands making its way into his. nuzzling into your neck he broke the comforting silence.

'are we still on for that date?’

#druig #druig x reader #druig smut #druig x reader smut #druig x y/n #druig x you #druig x female reader #druig x eternal!reader #druig x female reader smut #eternals #eternals x reader #eternals x reader smut #eternals smut #smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut #hard dom #d/s dynamic

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Hey! What about Munson x reader where everything is cool now and Eddie is proved innocent (doesn't really matter how) and she says "and what was the last time you took a shower?", tooking him then to her house to clean himself up and eat and rest. Fluffity fluff?

You were the first one there to pick up him from the release location of the jail. You wanted to whisk him away – make him forget about everything that had went down over the past year. The media was swarming the place, waiting to get a glimpse of him as a free man. Two police guards ushered him out of the building and into the car, slamming the door shut on him. He sunk down in the seat, covering his face with a bag of his belongings, as the car sped away.

“Fuck!” He shouted after a few minutes of driving, “Fuckin’ assholes trynna’ keep me down...fuck you!”

You smiled to yourself as he started laughing. He groaned and leaned back in his seat, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. He looked over at you and sighed, “Thank you, Y/N...for this...for not giving up on me.”

“Of course not, Eds.” You said, reaching over and patting his thigh, “You’re safe now.”

He placed his hands over yours on his thigh and then brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of it.

The rest of the drive was silent as you made your way back to your house. Thankfully no one knew where you lived. He could have some peace out here as he came back into the world for the first time in nearly two years.

He followed you into the house, sighing as he sat his bag down.

“This is the first time in nearly three years we’ve been alone together and you haven’t even kissed me yet,” Eddie said softly, leaning back against the wall as he watched you take your shoes off, “Do you...you don’t want to be with me anymore, Y/N?”

“What?” You asked with wide eyes as you turned to look at him, “No. That’s not it at all, Eds.”

“Then what is it?” He asked, shifting his weight to his other foot.

“I just didn’t want to overwhelm you is all,” you shrugged as you walked closer to him, “I know it was hard on you in there. I’ve read-”

“I’m here asking you to stop reading the books,” he sighed softly, moving to cup your face in his hands, “I get that you just want to help me...readjust or whatever. But I’m fine. I just need my girl right now...not some self-help bullshit.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you nuzzled your nose against his. Soft, slow kisses were shared as he pulled you closer to him until your body was flush with his, pinning him against the wall. You had been strong through this whole ordeal for him, keeping your tears to yourself. But he was finally free now, finally here and you could touch him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, your tears falling down your face unabashedly and wetting his, “I’m here now.”

“Don’t ever think I don’t want you,” you whispered, “Because that’ll never happen, Eddie.”

He nodded and cupped your chin in his hand, tilting your head back to look you in your eyes, “Good to know...I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” you said with a soft smile, the pads of his thumbs gently wiping your tears away.

You kissed his lips once more before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, “C’mon...let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

He nodded and sighed, “Yeah. I need a good long shower, I think.”

You took him by the hand and guided him into the bathroom. You gathered a few towels for him and he sighed in relief when he saw the pile of his own clothes stacked neatly in the corner. He couldn’t wait to get out of the sweatpants they had given him to leave the prison.

You were about to step out of the room to give him some privacy when you felt a warm hand gently grasp your wrist. You turned to look back at him, concern filling you at the look on his face. He looked scared, his brow furrowed and his eyes full of unspoken emotion as he swallowed harshly.

“D-don’t go, yeah? Can – can you stay...please?” He asked, nodding to the toilet, “Sit here with me while I shower?”

Your heart broke at the softness of his voice and the look on his face. You nodded and gave him a small smile, “Of course, Eds. Whatever you need.”

He sighed in relief and dropped his hand from you, watching as you closed the lid on the commode and sat down on it. He pulled his shirt off, exposing his back to you. You had to bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying as you seen the bruises and scars they had left on him. His beautiful skin marred for the rest of his life now. He heard your stifled cry and turned his back away from you.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie whispered, “Forgot about those.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said as you stood up and walked over to him, “You done nothing wrong, you don’t have to apologize. Let me see? Make sure there’s nothing that needs to be cleaned?”

He was hesitant to turn around, but he eventually did, his head hanging in shame as you gently ran your fingers over the angry skin.

“Baton,” he snorted, “They’re fuckin’ brutal with those things.”

“Oh, Eddie.” You whispered, tears falling now as you looked at the numerous bruises. There was so many. Deep reds and purples twirled together on his skin, deep into his muscles. Looking at them made your body ache. You knew he was in pain but he would never tell you that. He was too stoic.

“I’m okay,” Eddie nodded, “They hurt like hell, but...I’m okay.”

He turned around and you stood on your tip toes, wrapping your arms around his neck as his circled around your waist. He pulled you against him, burying his face in your neck as he sighed softly. He laid his forehead against yours, tucking your hair behind your ears as he whispered, “I’m safe now. These will fade just like the memories. But I know one thing that never will.”

“What’s that?” You whispered, nudging your nose against his.

“My love for you,” Eddie said, his thumbs lightly brushing over your cheek, “That’ll never fade.”

You stood on your tip toes and kissed him, your fingers combing through his hair as you felt the weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. For so long, this day was only a faint dream. You stood beside, and behind, him through the entire trial. When he faltered, you were there pushing him forward, reminding him that he could beat this. And he did. And he was here now. He was finally home.

You sat on the toilet as he washed himself up, the scent of his shampoo and body wash filling the foggy air. You talked to him about everything that had happened while he was in jail, from the town’s hottest gossip (that didn’t involve him) to the simple things like what you ate for dinner last night. When he got out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked over to you with a towel, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“I can never do the hair trick like you do.” Eddie shrugged.

He flipped his wet hair forward slowly, mindful of his back, and you tucked all the strands under the towel, twisting it and tossing it back over his head as he stood up. He looked in the mirror, hands rubbing over his tired face as he stared.

“I look horrible.” He mumbled.

“No, you don’t.” You frowned, carefully leaning against his back as you rested your chin on his shoulder, “You look handsome as ever. My sweet man.”

“You mean your exonerated sweet man,” Eddie grinned at you, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

“Yes. My exonerated sweet man,” you smiled, hands splayed out across his stomach, “C’mon. Let’s get you fed.”

While you were downstairs cooking him a meal, Eddie was upstairs getting dressed. He tied his wet hair back in a messy bun as he stared down at his clothes. A smile crept across his face when he seen his leather and his vest sticking out at the bottom. Tattered torn black jeans, a black Dio shirt, his leather jacket, and to top it off – his vest. It felt great to finally look in the mirror and recognize himself again. He stared at himself for a split second in your vanity before he noticed a cup with rings sitting in the middle of the desk.

After he ate – well, scared, his food down, you two were sitting on the couch in the living room in a comfortable silence as he read over the papers for his probation. He wasn’t off scotch free but he was free enough to be able to be here with you and for that, he was thankful.

“Do you want to go anywhere?...see anybody?” You asked, stretching your legs out on the sofa as you leaned back against the arm.

He was biting his thumb nail as he looked over at you, eyes blown wide as he shook his head, “Absolutely not. I don’t want to leave this house for at least a week.”

You laughed softly, watching as he tossed the papers onto the floor and started crawling his way up your body. He pinned you to the couch with his weight as he laid his head on your chest, his arms snaking behind your back. You cradled his head to your chest, hearing his soft sigh as your fingers gingerly worked through his still damp hair.

“I just want to lay here and hope the entire fuckin’ city burns to the ground,” he said softly, “Once probation is up...I want out of here. I want you and me to high tail it out of here, Y/N. Get away, start a family...make a lives for ourselves away from all the bullshit.”

“Just you and me?” You smiled softly, “Anywhere we want?”

“Anywhere we want, baby,” he said, pressing his nose against your skin to sniff the faint leftover perfume from this morning, “I want me and you to leave and never look back.”

You watched as he closed his tired eyes and whispered, “Til the end of the fuckin’ world?”

A sleepy warm grin spread across his face as he opened his eyes just enough to see your matching grin before he whispered, “Til’ the very last goddamned second.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #this is no joke one of the best things i’ve ever read

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#death note #l lawliet #fluff #soft ‘nd cuddly

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Meme redraw >:)

#toji fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #jjk #crying this is so accurate

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u think i am joking but this is genuinely how i look while writing: “god, you’re so fucking wet” and “such a good girl” for the hundreth time in my miserable existence

#crying this is so accurate #fanfic

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!! PORCO HCS

pairings: porco galliard x gn!reader

genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff

notes: THIS BECAME SO LONG GOODNESS,, this is for @plutowrites <3 i hope it lives up to any expectations akdbwodna

- a man child. annoying and a brat, but only for you of course <3

- he claims gatorade is better than powerade. you asked what the difference is (god forbid) and he ignored you; something about “not being near someone with no taste.”

- he is very much afraid of animals. and it’s the funniest thing ever. you can pick up a kitten and he’ll jump and act as if you’ve disrespected his family.

- speaking of family, they are his TOP priority. his brother’s approval was very important to him, as well as his parents. but if his brother got a bad vibe or didn’t like you.. well.. his love for you better be hella strong (half-joke) cause he values his brothers opinions.

- takes things to heart. he’s actually really sensitive, but masks is behind this “tough guy” persona.

% it’s actually shown in the manga that he’s very caring and concerned for others. this link leads to a twitter thread about porco if you want a further elaboration!!

+ he cries during dog movies. and he makes you swear to never tell another soul. (you tell marcel) “so what if i cry. can a man not cry y/n??” “we were watching ‘a pet’s life.’” “you’re heartless.”

- he’s a very protective and passionate boyfriend (and person in general). takes it upon himself to make sure everyone is okay and comfortable. he loves to take care of people, but he also puts them in their place (rather harshly to reiner)

- YOU ARE HIS SOFT. SPOT. he calms down the instant you are in his peripheral vision. when he’s tense and heated, a simple rub on his arm or back will ground him. he loves you so much :(

- but don’t think he’ll just be nice to you. no, you are his main victim in all of his shenanigans. in the wise words of his brother, “good luck”

- HE STEALS YOUR SHIT AND PRETENDS TO BE YOU. he’ll try on your clothes, maybe apply makeup (if you’re into that), and uses your skin care products wrong 😭 (puts your expensive face lotion on his elbows and hands) “they’re dry, y/n!”

- the funniest person but unintentionally. don’t tell him unless you want his head inflated.

+ his commentary throughout movies makes you laugh so hard that you’ve been kicked out of theaters. he insists “at home movie dates are more private”

- porco is also a private person. he keeps things to himself but tells you everything. you are his go to for gossip. he’s like a nosy middle aged woman, except instead of wine he drinks… energy drinks ( kudos to @plutowrites for this very canon thought )

- he’ll never tell you, but he actually wants a pet (despite being afraid of animals) “you never know what they’re thinking!!” he likes the idea of you both caring for something and giving it endless love.

+ it feeds his thoughts to your guys’ own future. having your own house, being married. he’s a sap at heart.

- porco is, unfortunately, a car guy. he loves them, he can name the brand, style, type of tires. it’s a hobby¿ he enjoys indulging in.

+ HE CALLS HIS CAR HIS BABY LMFAO. “next to you of course, darling 🥺”

- OH MY GOD HE USES THAT EMOJI BTW, UNIRONICALLY. like i said, a man child.

- back to his car. it is spotless. very clean, smells so so good. you have fallen asleep in it countless times. (i’ve said this in my ask) but he keeps a spare pair of clothes for you, as well as a blanket.

- even in his room, he keeps some of your clothes in a drawer dedicated to you only. stocks up on your favorite snacks and drinks too! he wants you to feel comfortable with him at all times!

- very needy and likes your attention. will hover over you at outings. he always has to be touching you when in crowds or areas he’s unfamiliar in. whenever you’re at a party, he puts you in his lap for “safe keeping”

+ if you even look in reiners direction, he says something obnoxious just to get your eyes on him again. (everyone else is now looking at him too)

- whenever you’re not looking at him, he gives you the biggest heart eyes. he’s such a simp for you. he admires you.

- he irritates easily. but he doesn’t get angry in a serious way. one time, he was having a bad day and marcel “talked to you for too long” and he simply shoved his older brother out the way and ran to his room.

- is a big hug person. he is the big spoon 100%, loves the feeling of knowing he’s protecting you. he loves to have you in his arms <3

© content of luvsouya. please do not repost or copy any of my work.

#attack on titan #porco galliard #headcannons #soft ‘nd cuddly

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Look, if I introduced a WIP on here excitedly and then promptly never mentioned it again, it doesn’t mean I’m not working on it, it means I’m slowly rotating it in my mind like a rotisserie chicken and then went out to the grocery store to buy several other rotisserie chickens while I wait for it to cook and then slowly started rotating those rotisserie chickens and repeat

#writing #writer things

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https://mymodernmet.com/hector-janse-van-rensburg-comforting-cat-comics/

#i’m in tears #cats of tumblr #soft ‘nd cuddly

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The Cupid Project

Summary | You’re a single mom with one very talkative and intrusive daughter. She will not sleep until she meddeled her way into getting you a husband. Her newest target? Her kindergarten teacher- Eren Jaeger

Wordcount | 12K (I’m so sorry omg)

Pairing | Eren x Reader

Notes | DILF vibes Eren, Cabin Eren, MILF reader hehe, language, anxiety, absentee father, Modern AU, THIS IS A LONG ONE, SO MUCH PINING, literally as slow burn as a oneshot can be, SFW, so much fluff, making out, mentions of one night stands

The 21st century is a lawless land when it comes to dating. Most people use dating apps. They spend hours sifting through their best photos from over the years- then they spend another hour trying to sell themselves in a tiny little 500 character limited bio. Some people go the organic way choosing to pry on singles at a bar, cafe, or even the watercooler at their office. If you’re old-school you may turn to the personal ads in the newspaper. There may be some hidden gems amongst the serial killers who still post in the newspaper. Seriously though. Newspaper dating ads? Redflag. 

There are tons of options out there! But the most unusual you may wonder? Getting your five-year-old daughter to set you up.

Keep reading

#eren jaeger #eren yaegar #I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS #soft ‘nd cuddly

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THE 3 GENERATIONS OF PETER PARKER

#marvel #spider man no way home #filmgifs

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"What does it feel like for you?"

"What does what feel like for me?"

You pause, then smile.

"Love. What's love feel like for you?"

Bakugou gives you a quizzical look. A sharp brow raise, head cocked to one side. He clicks his tongue and continues folding laundry. You make home in his bed, typical - sitting with your legs crossed. Silently, you organize his clothes in order of each drawer they go into.

"That's a dumb fuckin' question."

You sigh, feeling the material of a cotton t-shirt. Your eyes flicker up to him - warm and bright.

"You can't indulge me?"

I always indulge you, brat he wants to say. But he doesn't. Instead he rolls his eyes and keeps folding.

"Whats it for?"

"I'm just asking."

"Shit question."

There's no heat to it, but you pout anyway. Bakugou's heart feels like it'll squeeze. Pinched so tightly in his ribs, a stir in his gut. He reaches his hand and pinches your cheek.

"Stop pouting. You're gonna get wrinkly."

"You won't love me when I'm old and wrinkly?"

He snorts.

"I won't love listening to you cry about it everyday."

You don't argue with that, just smile - and there's that brief lull that feels like holding hands through infinity.

"What's it like f'r you?" He asks. You beam, and he rolls his eyes - but doesn't bother hiding his smile.

"It feels.. soft. Makes my hands kind of twitchy and I get restless."

"Isn't that just cause you're a freak?"

You whine again and he laughs.

"No! It's like nice and pleasant. And I only feel it with you,"

He flushes down to his neck. You're doing that thing you do - where you're accidentally romantic. Bakugou hates it, always has. He feels his ears turn a warm pink.

"What about for you?"

There's a brief silence. And Bakguou looks towards you again. You look inquisitive and call to him like the ocean must to lonely men. Bakugou understands it, for a moment. Thinks of the ocean, and of love. Then there's soft breath, and he doesn't fold laundry.

"In my chest," He says, soft and thoughtful and jagged everywhere "Feels like I'm being... drowned or whatever. It's fuckin' overwhelming and hurts."

"It hurts?"

Another pause.

"...Yeah. At first it hurts. Not a shit-ton just -,"

"When does it stop hurting?"

And then Bakugou looks at you again. It doesn't hurt. Just for that one moment, like a gulp of air - relief invades his whole body like he's alive. Suddenly this conversation is too heavy, too embarassing, too much so he clicks his teeth and folds laundry and you keep sorting and god -

When did breathing start to feel so much like you, he wonders. You don't ask him questions when he hesitates, like you don't even plan to hound anymore from him.

So briefly from his lips do the words fall.

"Doesn't hurt right now."

#bakugou x reader #soft ‘nd cuddly #makes me weak #this is so so good

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ok but what if--

there we go

#international women's day #mystic messenger #mysme #so cute