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justmeinadaze · 5 months

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We're a Family Part 22 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Get ready to feel old <3. I wrote Good Neighbors a little over a year ago and I've loved how they've evolved. I'm not done with this little family yet. I still have one more chapter with Dylan and then some ideas with an older Ro but, ugh, lol I feel how the reader feels when it comes to her first born.

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, edging (they are still trying new things), handcuffs, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3 and their kiddos, ANGST, someone from the past comes back to talk to the adult Munson-Harringtons and Dylan, Steve and Eddie struggle being protective over their eldest (Eddie just hides it better), lots of talk about Dylan growing up and leaving the nest and how these three feel about it.

Word Count: 5256

An 18-year-old Dylan bounces anxiously on his toes as you sort through the mail too slow for his liking.

“MOM! Come on! Did anything come for me or not?”

Two years had passed since you reconnected with your mother and things had been going very well. She was always extremely busy with work but when she came over Aurora insisted on showing her all the movies she missed out on.

“Grandma! Watch how cool this is!”, the seven-year-old squeals with delight as they focus on the film in front of them. The light saber flies past Kylo-Ren into Rey’s hand and Ro breathes a sigh of excitement.

“Ok, now explain to me again how ‘the force’ works.”, yoru mom asks as she leans forward over her crossed legs on the couch.

You grin from your spot in the kitchen as you bump Eddie’s hip with yours.

“Definitely your daughter, nerd.”

“Takes one to know one, princess.”

James was now a toddler causing all kinds of chaos around the Munson-Harrington home. His sticky fingers got into everything even some of the cabinets that you had believed were too high for him to reach.

“James Wayne Munson Harrington.”, you scold with your hands on your hips as you watch him lean back and laugh with a wide smile that only rivaled that of his dad. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plopping his butt down on the counter, he dangles his legs over the side as he reaches his tiny hand into the snack box and produces a chocolate chip cookie.

“Mama cookie…Yames.”, he coos as he points to himself while struggling to say his name correctly.

“Mhmm. Didn’t you just eat lunch?”

“For…for mama an Rara.”

“Don’t you bribe me and your sister with sweets, you little butthead.”

“Why are you being mean to our son?”, Steve asks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen.

“Because our son parkoured up the counter for a snack.”

The three-year-old giggles as he offers his dad a cookie that he accepts before lifting him into his arms and putting the box back in the cabinet.

“What did we say, bud?”

“Ask.”

“That’s right. You have to ask first. Now give mommy a kiss as an apology and get out of here, you butthead.”

Dylan was halfway through his senior year of high school and applied to a lot of colleges but was anxious to be accepted to a certain one because that’s where Daisy was going. The two of them had continued to date and see each other which you didn’t mind. What killed you however was that because of her family she was looking at a school that was a few states away. You had never been that far from your son and it scared you.

“I don’t know. I see bills and ads. Let me take my time to really read these though.” Dylan huffs making you smile as you give him a hug. He was so much taller than you now, your head resting against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Everything’s going to be ok, weirdo. You’ll hear something soon. There’s still some time.”

***

Steve ran his hands over his eyes exhaustedly while grading papers during his lunch. With winter break coming up, he wanted to get everything out of the way so he could take these next couple of weeks to spend some time with the kids especially Dylan. When he had mentioned going to school out of state, of course, he was proud and encouraged him to apply but he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of his son being so far away broke his heart.

“Stevie?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice calmed him as he smiled towards the door his husband was leaning against.

“Hey you. What are you doing here?”

“You, uh, just started your lunch hour right?”

Steve knew that tone, something was going on that the metalhead was afraid would upset him.

“Yeah? Everything ok?” As he turned his head towards the hall, your ex-husband stepped into view. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Give us a second.”, Eddie gestured towards Charlie before entering the classroom and closing the door. “Steven, calm down.”

“Calm down? Why the fuck is he here?! Whatever he wants the answer is no.”

“Baby, sit. Please? At least hear me out first.” Steve huffed as he folded his arms and pouted while Eddie sat on his desk in front of him. “I get it. Trust me I do but I felt like…for what he’s asking we should talk about it at most. He wanted to speak to us both first out of respect because we are Dylan’s dads.”

“Damn right.”

“He’s not asking to spend time with him again or anything like that. Charlie doesn’t think Dylan would even want that but… he’s asking to see him graduate.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Edward Munson?!”, Steve practically shouts as he rises to his feet.

“Shhhh.”, the metalhead tries to calm him doing the same.

“No! He hasn’t earned that fucking right. He hasn’t been here AT ALL in over 5 years. Why is that?! Oh, that’s right, he signed him over. Charlie had plenty of chances to be there for him and he failed! WE raised him and he thinks he can just waltz back in and be a part of something like that?!”

“Steve! Breathe.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he cups his face in his hands. “Breathe. I get where you are coming from. I said all of the same things to him when he came to the shop. But… I get it from Dylan’s side to. Remember when I finally graduated? I was so excited that Wayne was there but there was still a part of me… that wished my mom and dad could see me finally do it to. A lot of that was to spite them and show them I could do it.”, he chuckled making Steve smile. “But a lot of it was also the little kid in me wanting them there.”

The man in his arms heavily exhaled before tilting forward to kiss his lips and gesturing for Eddie to bring him in.

“I warned you before, Charlie, about hurting my son. If we talk to him and he wants you there and you don’t show up…I swear to God—”

“No, no. I understand. I’ll move heaven and earth to be there I swear.”

“Yeah to bad you couldn’t do that for him or Brody before.”

“Steve.”, Eddie warned.

“No, he’s right. I always said I’d never be like my stepdad yet… I’m, um, glad he’s had you two. I’m working with Vivian to be there for Brody. I’m trying…”

“You understand if he or Y/N says no, then the answer is no?”

“Yeah, I understand. Thank you for hearing me out though. I know I don’t deserve it.”

***

Your eyes constantly raked across them during dinner while they ate. Both men seemed completely distracted but especially Steve.

“I’m done. I’m going to go play games upstairs.”, Dylan announces as he stands from the table.

“Ah, kid, do you mind staying for a bit?”, Eddie asked throwing the two of you off guard. “Are you done to?”, he asks Ro as she beams up at him with her messy face.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Can you take this troublemaker and go watch tv please?”, he laughs as Steve blind sides her with a napkin to wipe her mouth and the other boy pulls James out of his chair, placing him on the floor.

Aurora grabs her brother’s hand, giggling as they run to the tv in the living room. They wait until the sound of a show blares from that area before Eddie leans forward on his elbows and Steve leans back folding his arms.

“I don’t know how to ease into this so I’m just going to say it. Charlie came to visit me and Steve today.”

Your eyes widen as your head ticks to the side while Dylan sighs mirroring Steve’s posture.

“Whatever it is the answer is no.”

“Y/N…please. He said all he wanted was to see Dylan graduate from high school.”

“After everything he’s done?!”

“Yeah, I already went down that road, baby, but Eddie seems to think it’s worth the conversation.”, Steve exhaled heavily.

“Do you?”, his son asked. “What did you say when he asked?”

“I told him that it was up to you and Y/N. If you two said you were fine with it—”

“But you don’t want him there?”

Steve glances towards Eddie who gives him a look of subtle warning.

“No, I don’t.”, he answers honestly causing the metalhead to huff in frustration. “I don’t feel like he’s earned that luxury after everything he’s done and put you through. But…I also feel like it’s your choice. If you want him there then he should be there. You know no matter what, kid, you’re still my son. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want him there.”

“Our feelings.”, Eddie added. “I get what Steve is saying but I’ve been on the other side. My dad was in prison when I graduated. I was ecstatic Wayne was there but…”

Dylan’s soft eyes shift towards you as he reaches for your hand.

“Mom?”

“I just…I don’t want him to hurt you. I don’t you to get your hopes up and then he doesn’t show.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Stevie already threatened him if he didn’t show.”, Eddie grinned making your son laugh.

“I’d, um, I’d like to talk with him before I make a decision if that’s alright.”

***

“Baby?”, Eddie cooed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while you leaned in the doorway of James’s room. Steve had fallen asleep in the toddler’s little racecar bed, his frame much too big for the mattress underneath as his legs hung off the side. His arm was holding the small boy to his side as he rested his sleeping head on his father’s chest.

“Eddie, why do you think everything with Charlie affects him so much more?”

“Hm, sweetheart, it affects us both about the same but Steve here just sucks at hiding it. I love Dylan with my heart and would do anything for him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him going to graduation doesn’t make me angry but if that’s what our son wants then I want him to be happy.” You nod at his statement, giving the man pause. “How does it make you feel? Be honest.”

“I don’t want him to go. I don’t…trust that he’ll actually show up. I feel like Steve right now where I just want to tell Dylan that we’re his parents and the answer is no so we can protect him.”

“The problem with that, my love, is you don’t know for 100% if that will be the outcome. I mean look at what happened with your mom.”

“Eddie, he’s my baby.”

“I know, babe. I know.”, he soothes as he turns you around and wraps you in his arms.

***

“When he gets here, do you want us to leave you two alone?”, the metalhead asked as the three of them waited at a table in the nearby Hawkins Diner.

“Not like alone, alone though. We’d be a couple of tables away.”, Steve assured confidently, trying to push down all of the emotions he was feeling.

“Can you stay, please? I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little terrified.”

“Terrified how, bud? You don’t have to do this if you’re uncom—”

“Steve! Calm down, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he rubs his back comfortingly.

Dylan reached for his father’s hand and flashed him a big smile.

“Everything’s going to be ok, dad. No matter what you both are always going to be my real fathers.”

As they beamed over at him, a figure caught Eddie’s eye as it quickly turned to leave.

“Hey, I’m, uh, I’m going to go smoke before he gets here. I’ll be right back.”

Throwing on his jacket, the long-haired boy hastily power walked towards the front door, opening it just in time to see Charlie heading back to his truck.

“HEY! No. No, no, no, no.”, he shouted as he ran to block his path. “No. You are NOT doing this to him. You’re here now just get the fuck in there and talk to him.”

“I-I-I can’t. I saw him and… he looks so different now. That’s not my little boy anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t—”

Eddie abruptly shoved the man against his vehicle, cutting him off.

“You’re right. He’s not a little boy anymore. Unfortunately, you missed that because you were too fucking selfish. Now you have a chance to be a part of his adult life if that’s what he wants but, Charlie, if you walk away now that is never going to happen. Don’t be a fucking coward. He’s a good kid.”

“Because of you two. He fucking hates me.”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t. Dylan thinks YOU hate HIM.”

“What? No. I love him and Brody so much.”

“Then where the fuck have you been?!”, he sighs releasing him from his hold. “He’s graduating with honors and a baseball scholarship to any school he chooses. He wants to go to a school up north with his girlfriend to major in music and education so he can become a music teacher. Dylan has worked so hard to get here. Don’t ruin it with your bullshit.”

Eddie shakes his head as he saunters back inside and plops down next to Steve.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, he grins but his husband can see right through it.

Placing his arm around the back of his chair, he leans close to his ear.

“You’ll tell me later?”

A throat clears startling everyone as they turn to see Charlie standing beside the table.

“Hi. Hey.”, his voice trembles as he shakes Eddie and Steve’s hands before turning to give Dylan his attention. “Hey, um, wow. Jesus. You look so much like your mom.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you. She thinks I look like you. To be fair she thinks none of her kids look like her.”

“Yeah? How many siblings do you have now?”

“Not including Brody, two. A sister and another brother.”

Your ex nods taking a seat as Dylan folds his arms over his chest. The guys were trying their best to stay as out of the way as they could while still being present for their son.

“So, uh--”

“Why do you want to come to my graduation?”, the boy asked bluntly. “My entire life you never went to anything that I was involved in and then signed me away. Why do you care?”

“I didn’t…sign you away… I just…I was never good at being a dad.”

“Why didn’t you try? Was it because of me?”

“No. God, no. Dylan, to me you were…are… absolutely perfect. I love you with all my heart. That’s why I signed those papers. After talking with your mom, I realized these two would be a better father for you than I ever could.”

Your son nods, sighing under his breath as he collects his thoughts.

“Mom will be there and Vivian to. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t realize they were talking to each other.”

“They aren’t. Dylan wanted to get to know Brody and Vivian missed him so Y/N lets him go to her house on the weekends.”, Steve explained.

“Wow. It seems a lot has changed.”

“It’s been 5 years, Charlie. What did you expect?”

Your ex flinched at the sound of Dylan using his name but unlike the incident with Steve, it didn’t bother your son. He had long since moved past feeling like Charlie was his dad and could honestly never see himself calling him that again.

“I don’t want you to go to my graduation but, maybe, we could get together and get to know each other again. Work our way up to having a relationship… I mean if mom and my dads are okay with it.”

“Yeah, Dil. I’d like that.”

Hearing Charlie call him that again stuck a raw nerve he kept tucked away for the last five years causing him to abruptly rise from his seat.

“Ok, I’m ready to go now.”, he announces without waiting for an answer and flying out the front door.

“Thank you guys for this. Tell Y/N I said thank you to.”

“Oh, she didn’t approve of this either. I’m the only one that seems to be slightly on your side but that’s because I know what it’s like to have your father abandon you.”, Eddie exhales as he and Steve get up as well.

“I didn’t…I didn’t abandon him.”

“Yeah, sure. Neither did my dad. He just boosted cars and ended up in jail for the rest of his life. It’s not his fault.”, he responded sarcastically. “Step one on rebuilding your relationship with him Charlie… Own your mistakes.”

################

“No Grandpa! You have to wear the crown because you’re a princess.”, Aurora giggled as she places the colorfully crown she created out of paper onto Wayne’s head.

“I’m a princess? Not a King?”

“No.”, she laughs harder, cover her mouth with her little hand.

Beaming over at them from your place on the floor, you and James continue to color in his little coloring book Eddie’s uncle had brought over.

“Granpa, purty.”

“Thank you, James. I do feel beautiful.”

The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you do everything in your power not to get up to run to them anxiously.

“Oh wow, Wayne. I must say, you make a gorgeous queen.”, Eddie teases.

“For your information, son, I’m a princess.”

The metalhead chuckles as they come to sit by you in the living room and your son immediately crawls to Steve to show him his pictures.

“Dada, look.”

The sound of Dylan’s feet subtly bang up the stairs as he heads for his room and closes the door.

“He’s ok, baby. Just needs some time alone.”, your husband assures.

“What happened? Did he show up?” They gave you a recount of everything that happened including Eddie telling you both about him almost leaving. “I can’t say I’m not happy he won’t be going but who knows. Maybe in these six months Dylan may change his mind.”

The next couple of days went by with little to no fan fair as Christmas break finally came. That Friday after coming home from work, you checked the mail like you normally do except a college insignia catches your eye. Running full speed into the house, you drop everything as you scream your son’s name.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What is happening?!”, Eddie exclaims as he slides in from the kitchen.

As Dylan sprints down the stairs with Steve in tow, you present him with the envelope he had been waiting weeks for. Hastily, he yanks it from your grasp and tears it open as you dance on the balls of your feet.

“Oh my god.”

“What? Is it good news? Bad news?”

With wide tear-filled eyes, a small grin spreads along his face.

“I got in.”

All the adults in the room shout in excitement as you tackle hug your arms around him.

“Baby, oh my god. I’m so proud of you!”

“Good job, Dylan.”, Eddie beams. “You’ll be the first Munson to go to college.”

“I’m proud of you to, little man.”, Steve smiles softly as he gives the boy a hug.

“I’m going to go call Daisy. I love you guys!”, he declares as he speeds back up to his room.

The metalhead holds up his index finger in your direction as both men tilt their head and wait for his door to close before the other boy nods. As soon as you get the go ahead, you fall into their arms and begin to cry.

“I know, baby. He grew up too fast. We’re going to miss him to.”

***

“Ok, I finally got Aurora and James to sleep. Eddie is in the kitchen eating Santa’s cook—“, Steve froze when he finally entered the bedroom and noticed the image before him.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed in a velvet red lingerie dress that cut off just so on your thigh barely hiding your panty less crotch with the white fluff that wrapped around the bottom. Your hair was curled and flowed down your shoulders as the Santa hat you wore sat perfectly on your head.

“I thought you two could open this present early.”, you grin in a seductive voice as you cross your legs and lean back on your hands.

“Eddie…”, Steve tried to call with a needy crack in his tone. “E-Ed-Eddie… EDWARD!”

“What!?”, the metalhead whisper shouts making you giggle. “Dude, lower your voice. You’re gonna wake—” While he was talking, the man pulled his collar to hurry him up and your grin grew as the other boy’s mouth fell open as well.

“Get in here, you dorks.”, you tease as you get up, pull them both into the bedroom, and shut the door. “I was thinking we could try something Eddie has mentioned a few times.”

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.”, Steve sighs happily as he lifts you into his arms and spins you around before placing a kiss on your lips. “Do we get to handcuff him? Please tell me we do!”

“If you both want.”

Eddie giddily climbs into the bed, kissing your lips before a thought crosses his mind.

“Wait, we haven’t handcuffed Steve to the bed yet and I feel like this whole edging thing would be way more fun to do to him… Mr. I’m-the-big-protector-guy.”

The pretty boy rolls his eyes as he falls on to his back, lifting off his shirt, and throwing it in his husband’s face playfully.

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you restrain him to the headboard as the metalhead pulls off the boy’s sweats and boxers.

“Should we have like a safe word or something? You both get sensitive quickly and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”, you ask in a soft, loving voice that makes him smile.

“I’ve heard ‘Red’ is a good word.”, Eddie offers, grinning when you both nod in affirmation.

“Say ‘Red’ if I’m uncomfortable. Got it.”, Steve repeats, smirking when you put your Santa hat on his head. “You know, you’re pretty sensitive to, fyi.”

“I guess next time, we’ll have to test that theory.”, you tease as you run your palm through the hair on his chest and over to his side. “Ok, my love, do you want to start since you’re the sexual deviant that’s been looking up this stuff?”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously as he leans over the other boy’s stomach to kiss your lips.

“You…like…it.”, Eddie coos between each peck.

As you continue to rub his chest, Steve’s breathing stutters as the man he loves take his cock in his warm hands and begins slowly stroking him.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“G-good. Really good. I like when y-you both touch me.”

Your palm slides up his neck to his cheek and he tenderly kisses your thumb as it grazes his lips. Shifting your body, you curl up on his side as you listen to the sound of Eddie spit over his tip and smear it along his length making Steve’s mouth open in a silent O.

“Fuck, Eddie, baby.”

Trailing kisses along his side, your hands and nails continue to roam his upper torso as his back arches at the sensations. As your husband’s ringed hand pumps him faster, Steve bites his bottom lip to suppress the loud moan that wants to escape.

“You look so handsome like this.”, you whisper as you tenderly move some of his hair away from his face. “Keep talking to us, Stevie. Please.”

“C-Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Too…too good.”

Beaming towards the other man, he winks at you as he drops another glob of spit over Steve’s tip as the boy ruts up into his hand. You both know his tells for when he’s about to let go; you’ve all studied each other very well over these past almost 12 years. Just as Steve was nearing his release…Eddie let him go and leaned back on his knees.

“N-No. No, no, no!”

“How are we feeling now, Harrington?”

The man huffed as he tugged on his restraints before groaning with need as Eddie wrapped his lips around his cock taking him all the way down to the back of his throat. After kissing his lips, you trailed your own down his chest to his stomach and stopping just above the base of shaft.

The metalhead came off him with a syrupy smack, stroking the man with his hand as he leaned towards you to passionately kiss your lips. The two of you played with Steve for a good long while, taking turns bringing him to the edge just before pulling back. His cock was dripping with both your saliva, angry and red from all the teasing.

As you glanced his way, his eyes were squeezed shut as he muttered things under his breath.

“Steve, honey? Are you ok?”

His eyes opened abruptly, meeting yours with a fire you hadn’t seen from him in a very long time.

“Eddie, let him go.”, you breathily moaned as his intense gaze never left yours.

The moment the cuffs came off, Steve’s sweaty frame practically tackled your own as he lifted you into his arms and spun you around making you giggle at his earnestness as your head hit the pillows. His lips devoured yours as if it had been ages since he tasted your kisses. Hissing at your touch, you reached between you both and guided him into your entrance. Before he could make any kind of movement, Eddie took hold of his hips and slide into the man above you.

Steve was anything but gentle as he slammed his lower half into you both desperately chasing his release.

“Oh…oh my God, baby. Just like that.”, you whimpered as his head feel beside you, latching his lips to your neck.

Glancing up to your other husband, his hair blocked his face as he grunted and clung to Steve’s waist as he met each thrust with a hard, rough one of his own.

The bed underneath you began to shake and the metalhead quickly reached up to hold it still with his palm.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel so fucking good. I love you, baby. M-Make me cum.”

Clinging to his hair and back, he pounded into you till the coil snapped and your pussy clenched tightly around him. The sound he made in your ear drove you crazy as his body trembled on top of yours and you felt his seed release inside of you. As he aggressively thrust it deep into your cunt, Eddie fell against his back, and held his chest as he came inside of the man below him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, that was amazing.”, the metalhead panted. “Steve, sweetheart, are you ok?”

“I think he fell asleep.”, you giggled as you petted the boy’s head. “Stevie, baby?”

“Hm?”, he grumbled as he snuggled closer to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm…mmhmm…”, he nodded.

“As much as I would love for you to fall asleep inside of me, it’s Christmas eve. You know at 7am those kids are going to burst through our door.”

Groaning, he nods as he rolls off you with Eddie immediately ready with a pair of boxers and rag to wipe him off. After making sure Steve was set, your husband grinned as he lifted you into his arms, disrobed you, and placed you in the shower as he delicately cleaned you.

“I love you to, baby.”, you smile up at him as he kisses your forehead.

“I love you even more. You looked really gorgeous in that outfit and I’m sure Steven will agree when he’s more coherent.”, he chuckles.

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he does the same as he rests his chin on your head.

“You know these next few months I’m going to need you two to help me hold it together.”

“I know, sweetheart. I can’t even picture Dylan not being in this house anymore. God, and we’re both going to have to be on Steve duty because you know he’s going to be a mess to.”

################

While Eddie and Steve sip their coffee, you pat James’s back as he curled up around you after opening all his presents and went back to sleep.

While Aurora was distracted with her morning cartoons, Dylan had gone upstairs to change and came back down just as your doorbell rang. Passing the baby to one of his fathers, you threw on your jacket and opened the front door to a fiddling Charlie.

“Oh, um, hey Y/N. Merry…Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, so you’re taking him to Vivian’s?”

“Um, yes, ma’am. She’s letting me spend the day with Brody so I asked Dylan if he wanted to join and he said yes.”

Turning to your son, you fixed his ski cap before kissing his cheek.

“No detours to Daisy’s ok? I want you home straight after for dinner.”

Smiling at you, he jogs towards your ex’s truck and quickly climbs into the heat.

“Thank you for this. I really appreciate it…after everything.”

“Don’t thank me, Charles. Thank those men in there. I still think this is a bad idea because of everything but we all just want our son to be happy. But I swear to God…I’m not the same woman I was 18 years ago. If you hurt him—”

“I know…your, uh, boyfriends threatened me already.”

“Husbands. Oh, they’ll be the first wave but I’ll be the finishing move. I’m not weak anymore.”

“You never were.” His response startles you as you hug your arms tighter around your body and he softly smiles. “I’ll have him back in a few hours.”

As you reentered the house, their eyes watched you as you sit beside them on the couch still hugging yourself. Ringed fingers threaded through your hair before turning you to face them.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. It’s just weird seeing Charlie be this way.”

“I can understand that. It’s like if my dad came through that door with a smile and a Santa level of presents.”, Steve sighed.

“Are you both ok? I told him to be home for dinner that way after we eat maybe you three can play that new game we got him.”

“It’s whatever he wants, baby. I try to remember what it was like when I was his age and I never wanted to be home.”, the pretty boy laughs. “So, the fact that he likes hanging out with us at all makes me happy.”

Eddie nods in agreement as James wiggles in his embrace.

“Daddy. Yames…hungee…”, the boy babbles as he taps his mouth with his palm.

“I guess it is that time to start fattening him up so we can have him plump enough to eat for dinner later.”

“No, daddy! Don’t be mean to James.”, Aurora scolds as her brother giggles.

“Come on, you. Let’s see if Santa left us anymore cookies in our pantry.”

#########

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munson-blurbs · 2 years

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When Man Plans, God Laughs (Eddie Munson x Single Mom!Reader)

Summary: You're a single mom of two who recently moved back to your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, after a nasty divorce. When your friends take you out for the night, you run into your high school crush: Eddie Munson. But are either of you satisfied with just a one-night stand?

Warnings: single motherhood, divorce, fluff, mentions of drugs/dealing

WC: 1.9k

Part One | Part Two

You're grateful that you didn't drink too much at the concert last night, because the following morning is hectic. Matthew insists on having milk with his cereal, then cries because it's soggy. While you attend to his tantrum, Grace takes it upon herself to grab the orange juice carton from the fridge, promptly dropping it and spilling it all over the kitchen floor. And when the word "shit" accidentally slips out of your mouth when you see the sticky mess forming, both kids decide to march around chanting it.

You clean up the kitchen, wipe down your messy children, and get them dressed for the day. They've been begging you to take them to the children's museum, so that's your plan. You're just finishing tying Grace's sneakers when the phone rings.

"Hello?" you huff into the receiver, scrambling to get out to the car before Matthew manages to undress himself.

"Hey, Y/N?" a familiar voice comes over the line. "It's Eddie. Munson," he clarifies, as if a different Eddie would be calling.

You crinkle your nose. "How did you get my number?" you ask, and you cringe at the interrogative note in your tone. "I mean, hi. But also, how did you get my number?""

Eddie laughs, not taking offense to any of it. "I hounded Starsky and Hutch until they broke and gave it to me."

"How nice of them," you mutter. "So, what's up?"

"Look," he starts, "I had a lot of fun last night. And I was hoping we could actually get to talk, catch up. Like a date, maybe?" His voice breaks at the end, nerves getting the best of him.

You smile weakly. "Eddie, that's really sweet," you tell him gently, keeping an eye on your munchkins, "but I'm not really looking to date right now."

"Is it because you have kids?" he blurts out, and you're taken aback.

"H-how did you know that I have kids?" It's a dumb question; Robin and Steve told him, obviously. "Never mind. Yes, it's because I have kids. Kids who are currently waiting for me to entertain them."

"So you're just never gonna date again?" he asks, but it's a genuine question; he's not accusing you of lying.

You exhale. "Maybe one day I will," you answer honestly. "But I...I don't think it's a good idea to be with someone who carries around a box full of mysterious illicit substances. Not really kid-friendly, y'know?"

"They're, uh, not all for me," he stammers.

You can't help but chortle at his statement. "Is the fact that you sell drugs supposed to make this better?" You notice Grace eyeing you curiously, so you lower your voice. "Look, I know you have to do whatever you can to make ends meet. I'm not judging you. But I also can't bring my kids into that kind of environment, y'know?"

There's a long pause on the other end of the line. "Yeah, no, I get it. Could we still...hang out? Like with Harrington and Buckley. Just as friends." Eddie bites his tongue to keep from babbling.

"Of course," you reply, breathing a sigh of relief. "I've gotta get going, but we'll talk soon."

"Bye, Y/N," he says, and you detect a hint of sadness in his voice. Maybe more than a hint. But you don't have time to ponder it, because Matthew is trying to fit through the spindles on the staircase. Why are kids so fast?

A few months later, you're holding Matthew's chubby little hand as you make your way through the library parking lot. Grace is in kindergarten full-time, so it's just you and your little man during the weekdays.

"Are you ready for Storybook Sing-a-longs?" you ask him excitedly. It was a new program that the library was offering to kids where a musician sang songs based on popular children's books. The best part was it was free. You'd signed him up right away.

The hum of a guitar being tuned floats past your ears as you enter the children's section. You're placing a fuzzy mat on the floor for you and Matthew to sit on, when you hear it:

"Hi there, tiny humans! I'm Eddie!"

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice. No way. No fucking way. But it's him: Eddie Munson is sitting before you in a folding chair, long curls pulled back into a low bun. He's still got his signature rings and his ripped black jeans, but he's wearing a purple shirt that reads "Storybook Sing-a-longs."

"Jesus Christ," you murmur under your breath.

The mom next to you overhears your utterance. "I know, right?" she scoffs. "Who let him around children? He was such a freak in high school."

You shake your head. "That's not what I meant--" you start to say, but Eddie cuts you off.

"I need a volunteer to help me sing a song about wheels on the bus," he announces, eyes twinkling at the kids' excited faces. "Who knows that one and wants to sing with me?"

Matthew looks up at you, waiting for your approval. "Go on, Bubba," you encourage him. "You love The Wheels on the Bus!"

He jumps up waving his stubby arms in the arm, desperate to get Eddie's attention. When Eddie spots him, he motions the two of you over.

It takes him a moment to place who you are--your oversized t-shirt, mom jeans, sneakers, and barely-there swipe of mascara is a far cry from your skimpy concert outfit. But when he realizes, his face lights up.

"Who do we have here?" he asks, both to your son and to himself.

"I'm Matthew," the boy replies proudly, and it comes out as Mahh-chew. "And this is my mommy!"

Eddie's smile is so genuine that it hurts your heart. "Hi, Matthew and his mommy!" he says. "Matthew, do you know what the wheels on the bus do?"

"They go round and round!" Wound an' wound, he shrieks excitedly.

"That's right!" Eddie cheers, launching into the song. Matthew is singing and clapping along, doing all of the hand motions like you taught him. You sneak glances at Eddie, his fingers strumming gently, his voice energetic but soothing. It's a side of him you've never seen before.

You and Matthew scurry back to your mat at the end of the song, and it's time for another kid to have a turn. The next half hour is filled with lyrics about Jack and the Beanstalk, Hansel and Gretel, and The Three Little Pigs. Matthew's eyes are wide the whole time, soaking in the music in wonderment.

You're putting away the mat, a half-asleep tot in your arms, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "I was hoping you'd be here."

You feel yourself blushing, and you hoist Matthew up a bit higher to cover your reddening cheeks. "Well, Matty and I never turn down a chance to sing Wheels on the Bus!" You tickle the boy's belly and he gives the sweetest giggle you've ever heard.

"You guys are pros. Gonna put me out of business!" Eddie teases. He glances at Matthew, then looks directly into your eyes. "Y/N, he's such a cute kid."

"Thanks," you grin, "but he's not gonna be cute if he doesn't get his nap soon."

"Can I walk you to your car?" Eddie asks sheepishly. "Is that okay?"

"Sure. Thank you." You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, shyness suddenly overtaking you as well.

He grabs your bag from your hand. Your pace is slower than it would be if you weren't holding Matthew, but Eddie walks alongside you.

"I should, um...I should be thanking you, actually," he says suddenly.

"Me?"

"Yeah," he nods. "When we spoke on the phone? And you said that you couldn't be with me because of my...my job? You were right. I'd been meaning to stop doing that stuff, but I figured I could never amount to much more. The Munson name comes with a reputation, and it ain't pretty. I thought no one would ever give me a chance.

"And then I came by here to return a book and saw they were looking for a kids' entertainer, and I thought, I can do that. I think the librarians were shocked that I was serious about it, but once I started doing the animal impressions for 'Old MacDonald,' they realized it was the real deal."

You laugh. "You really nailed those. We were both impressed with the cow especially."

Eddie snorts. "What can I say? I had plenty of experience listening to an old cow in O'Donnell's class."

"Eddie!" you swat at his stomach playfully. "Don't teach my innocent son how to insult people."

"Sorry, sorry," he puts his hands up in defeat. "But, yeah. I just thought you should know."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "One night after a concert made you rethink your whole life?" you ask unbelievingly.

"Yes? I mean, Buckley kept telling me about her friend that was incredibly smart, funny, caring...the list went on and on. And then I met you, and you were, like, holy sh--sugar hot," he amends quickly.

"That's sweet," you say, biting your lower lip. "But most days, I look like this. Miniskirts are few and far between."

Eddie places a big hand on your cheek. "The sentiment still stands, sweetheart." He kisses your forehead, sending shivers down your spine. When you arrive at your car, he opens the back door so you can put a sleeping Matthew in his car seat.

"Thanks, Eddie," you whisper. You want to kiss him so badly, it hurts. "Hey, um, do you do children's birthday parties, by any chance?" You glance down at your son. "He turns three in a few weeks, and I need something to keep the kids entertained."

"I do now," he beams. "Any special requests?"

"You've gotta bust out that rendition of Old MacDonald, obviously," you tease. "How much do you charge?"

"Hmm," he pretends to think. "One...slice of birthday cake."

"I'm serious!" You put your hands on your hips. "Besides, you would get birthday cake anyway."

"Okay," he says nervously. "How about that date?" When you raise your eyebrows, he gives an exasperated sigh. "C'mon! I stopped dealing, I got a regular gig, Matthew already adores me. Just one date. And if it sucks, I'll leave you alone forever."

You consider it. One date couldn't hurt, right? It wasn't like you were marrying the guy. Clearly, you didn't fare well in the marriage department, anyway.

"One date," you agree, and Eddie pumps his fist in the air triumphantly. "After the party. If you bomb, the deal's off."

"Oof, no pressure or anything," he stumbles back dramatically. "But it's a deal." He sticks his hand out and you shake it, but he takes the opportunity to pull you in and kiss your lips. "Couldn't help myself," he mumbles into your mouth. You bring your hand to the back of his head and kiss him back harder, feeling body melt into his. You're snapped out of your trance by the sound of Matthew stirring.

"We've gotta get home," you apologize. "Call me later, around 4? I'll give you the party info."

Eddie nods. "Sounds great." He kisses your cheek before opening your door for you. "I'll talk to you then."

You wave goodbye as you back out of the spot, a smile plastered to your face.

So much for a one-night stand.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #fanfic #fluff

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dollywheeler · 11 months

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September 19th, 1996

Dear diary,

Happy birthday to me!

As far as sweet sixteens go, it wasn't anything spectacular on account of it being a Thursday, but everyone made sure to make it memorable anyway. Dad went into work late so we could have a more luxurious and lazy breakfast than usual, and Nancy called early to wish me a happy birthday.

Whitney and Dylan covered me in glitter and tinsel the second they got into my car - luckily it's just sticky glitter make-up because I would have murdered them if they'd brought loose glitter into my car. Thankfully, they know me well enough not to put me through that torture.

At school, the rest of the cheer team had decorated my locker and tied balloons to our usual lunchtable. Whitney actually baked a cake and it looked and tasted amazing! They're the sweetest friends anyone could ever wish for and I'm so grateful to have them. It's crazy to think I've only been close with them the last couple of years - I feel like we've been friends forever. We've made some amazing memories together.

Danny left us to our make-shift party and though it was thoughtful of him to let us girls alone to celebrate, I missed him being there. I've really been getting used to his presence and it's like every time I see him now, we just have more and more to talk about. It was a lot of fun though, and it was nice to get to focus on just my friends. And in the end, he caught up with me on our way to our English class and he gave me a ribbon for my hair! It's a beautiful baby pink and he even tied it around my pigtails for me. I think I could have died happy on the spot.

I was in such a good mood, I completely forgot we were heading to Mike's class until I sat down at my desk and found an envelope with my name on it. It was obviously Mike's shoddy handwriting, so I looked up involuntarily to catch his eyes, but he was writing something on the board, purposefully not looking at me. He was either nervous or trying to follow my wishes to not interact with him, so I opened it as he started his class without delay.

I was baffled that he'd actually gotten me a birthday gift. I don't think he's given me anything in the last ten years - if ever. The necklace is nice, pretty even, if a little juvenile. Still, it's in my favorite colors, so he must know that much about me. I thanked him after class, and as I don't have art today, asked him to thank Will (and Max) too. He seemed happy I'd accepted the peace offering, but didn't push which I was grateful for.

We had cheer practice after school so we couldn't go to the mall or anything, but I didn't mind. I enjoyed cheer and we still went to get milkshakes after, which is all I really need anyway - milkshakes, a good mix tape to shout along to, and a car full of my favorite people.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #mike wheeler #the third wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

Note

I know you might continue it anyways but just in case, can you please write a part 6 for Sweet Dreams? I’m so invested in their story now and need to know what happens with their relationship! Thank you and I love all your stories by the way,

*Me writing this series:

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Cw: blood, needles, medical supplies/procedures, violence,

“Uuugh,” Villain grimaced, peeking through their fingers at the dramatic blood splatter speckling the tv screen. “How about I choose the next movie?”

They both lounged comfortably against the headboard of the bed, barrier still set firmly and conveniently down the center. The hotel staff probably thought they were crazy for asking for so many extra pillows, but the results were worth it. It had definitely made these last few days inside the hotel room easier. Henchman was certain their pounding rabbit heart wouldn't have been able to handle being so continually close to Villain otherwise. Yes, it was just feathers stuffed in fabric, but the principle of it was much stronger.

“Are you queasy?” Henchman said in disbelief, offering the skittle bag over the barrier.

Villain took a generous handful, though still shielding their peripheral vision with one hand. “Slashers are not my film of choice. They’re so gory.”

Henchman held back a scoff and crossed their arms on top of the mountain of pillows to peer over at them. “Don’t you kill people, like, all the time?”

Villain's head remained fixed downward, but Henchman still picked up on the little furrow between their brows as their entire face scrunched up with distaste. “First off, ‘all the time’ is a massive exaggeration. Second, when I do kill people, I don’t leave a mess. It's very different."

They had already begun pushing all the grape skittles to one side of their hand, cutting a tiny gap between them and the other colors; once they were finished, they waved for Henchman to extend their hand to them, and poured the little pile of purple into their palm.

Henchman had only mentioned in passing that grape was their favorite, but now Villain made a point of picking them out for them every time.

"I like strawberry best anyway," they'd insisted when Henchman tried to protest. It still felt strange. Villain didn't need to share anything with them, and they'd certainly never seemed inclined to before, not unless it was to their benefit, at least. But by now, after so many snacks and movies, Henchman just accepted it.

“What sort of movies do you like?” Henchman asked, clutching the handful tight at their side and ignoring the sticky stains coloring the inside skin.

No hesitation: “Romantic comedies."

Henchman barked a laugh and then hastily covered their mouth with both hands.

"I-I'm sorry,” they mumbled through their fingers, “I just...wasn't expecting that."

Villain shrugged, completely unabashed. "They're simple. People meet, they fall in love, they fight, they get back together. You never have to worry about the conflicts getting too big because you know there's always a happy ending. I think there's enough stress and fear in life; it's nice to escape into something optimistic once in a while."

"That...makes sense," Henchman nodded slowly.

It still came off as a little surprising. They'd learned a lot more about Villain over these past two days, but the revelation that they didn't crave violence was definitely one of the most eye-opening. They knew it didn't change the fact that Villain was willing to resort to such tactics, or that they were very, very good at them, but it definitely soothed some of their more fearful apprehensions over them.

A sudden blood-curdling scream blasted from the tv speakers, sending an electric jolt through Henchman's body that made their arms flail out to either side. Their fist slammed into one of the barrier pillows, making a small chink in the top layer and ending with their hand on the other side.

Villain seized on the balled fist as if they'd been laying in wait all along for such an opportunity, spreading their fingers tightly over Henchman's knuckles.

"Wait," they said after a couple seconds. "Are you still holding the skittles I gave you?"

Henchman blushed, wriggling their hand free and popping the entire handful into their mouth at once. That could have been the end of it. They'd had a real excuse to come back to their side. They could have folded their hands under their arms, turned staunchly back toward the screen, and pretended it never happened. But no, they had to immediately offer their hand back, purple dye and all.

Henchman registered the sweaty stickiness probably a couple seconds after Villain did. They blushed even more furiously.

"I...uh..."

They tried to draw back, but at the same time, Villain clapped their hand down onto the grapey mess, twining their fingers together without hesitation. Their skin clung together like adhesive as soon as their palms touched, but Villain barely reacted beyond a sly smile.

Henchman forced their eyes straight ahead and tried to keep them there for the remainder of the movie but, they couldn't help but steal a few harmless glances. Not that it told them much. Villain was too hard to read, and honestly, they weren't really sure what they were even hoping for.

However, they did notice that Villain treated the rest of the movie much more calmly than they had everything previous.

***

It was that very observation that still had Henchman's thoughts captive hours later.

They glanced at the red numbers blaring off their alarm clock. 5:15 a.m. Usually, they’d be dead asleep by now, but the questions kept itching at them. Did they really have a power? And if so what was the extent of it? Apparently, they could soothe nightmares, some pain, and, maybe, fear. Though there was still always the chance that it was all a major coincidence. They really wished they could know for sure. They knew only vaguely how the test worked and even less about how detailed it was, but they had enough information to know it was fairly simple and very accessible.

Maybe…they should check it out.

If you go, and it turns out you don’t have a power, Villain won’t want you near them anymore.

Henchman wasn’t sure if that was a pro or a con. They really didn’t want Villain to get close to them simply to use them, but then again, the possibility of the criminal dropping them was terrifying.

You don’t have to tell them the results, their inner scoundrel convinced them. Not right away. In the meantime, you’ll have time to decide.

That plan seemed reasonable enough. Though for it to work, it required Villain not to know they were being tested. They were supposed to lay low--they'd been ordering food by delivery this whole time precisely for that reason-- so Henchman would have no excuse to leave later. Meaning they needed to go before Villain woke up.

They needed to go now.

Henchman let their hand go limp in Villain's grip and with a little light, back-and-forth shimmying, very carefully slipped free. They waited a moment to see if Villain would stir, but when they simply let out a long exhale and tossed the other way, they swung their legs over the mattress and rose slowly to their feet.

They didn’t bother with their hair or their face, simply changing out of their pajamas into jeans and a hoodie and grabbing their shoes by the heels as they padded toward the door. When they turned the handle, the hinges let out a long, high-pitched whine that made Henchman wince, but once again, Villain didn’t awake.

Henchman plopped down on the nasty hallway carpet to yank their shoes on, and about 15 minutes later they were outside a pharmacy, though it didn't open until 8. Hopefully, Villain would sleep in.

Henchman gathered their legs up against their chest and rested their forehead on their knees. They must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing they knew somebody was tapping them roughly on the shoulder.

"You can’t sleep here," a tall, bespectacled man with a pinched mouth said, looking down at them from over their glasses. "Please move elsewhere."

Henchman blinked several times, eventually registering the keys in his hands and the slight way he angled himself toward the pharmacy door.

All sleep suddenly fled from their eyes, and they leaped to their feet. "Wait, no, I was just waiting for you guys to open!"

The man winced a little at their too-loud voice before shooting them an odd look. "In any sort of emergency, you should visit a hospital."

They must have misread their desperation.

"I'm not sick, I um..." Suddenly it was hard to say aloud. "Do you do...power-ability tests here?"

A new wave of understanding washed over the man. That sort of thing wasn't life-threatening, but it definitely could feel like it to some people.

"Yes." The door let out a little chime as he pushed it open. "You can go take a seat by the back counter, and I'll be right there."

Henchman stepped hesitantly into the building's sticky warmth. The air conditioning must be out, or maybe it just hadn't been turned on yet, maybe that was where the pharmacy man was going first.

Sure enough, a little chair was pushed into a far corner near the back counter, the seat all maroon and cracked leather. It wasn't exactly comfortable to sit on, but at least it was a distraction from the unknown ahead of them.

A P-A test costs about $150 dollars," the man said as he approached, a little square box in hand. "Do you want to pay that up front or fill out your insurance information?"

"Uh, upfront," Henchman said, fishing the leftover cash from their last paycheck out of their jeans pocket. They separated a couple hundreds, knowing they probably looked crazy suspicious, but if the man was bothered, he didn't show it. He disappeared around the counter for several moments and returned with two twenties and a ten for change.

"Do you know how this works?" he asked, popping open the tabs of the little cardboard.

"N-no," Henchman said, staring intently as the pharmacist pulled out a little needle and stiff, translucent piece of paper. "I know it's something that can be tested in the blood, but...no, I don't know much else."

The man crouched down and began wiping their index finger with a cold alcohol wipe, every once in a while fixing them with that serious gaze that had been unsettling earlier, but now suddenly brought comfort. "Basically, I take a few drops of blood from your finger, and let it land on this card. The card then changes color depending on whether you are positive or negative for powers or abilities. Red for positive, blue for negative. However, I won't be able to tell you what ability you might have or what level it is, for that you'll have to go to one of the institutions; they're all over the place."

Henchman nodded. They didn't really care about that part, powers or not, they were sticking with Villain's team, supposedly there were counselors and trainers available.

"What's your favorite color?" the man asked suddenly.

"What does that have to do--"

A sharp prick stung their finger, and they nearly yanked back with a loud yelp.

"That's the hard part done," the man said, unfazed by the outburst, and drew their hand over the translucent card. Three drops hit the center in quick succession, each one rippling a strange shimmer across the entire square.

"H-how long does it take?" they asked.

The man rotated the card up and down in a circular motion. "A couple minutes or less. Ah, here we go."

The color struck all at once. One moment, Henchman could see straight through the card, the next it bled a deep crimson.

"Look at that," the man said. "Powered after all."

Henchman stared with their mouth half-gaped open. They weren't sure why they felt so shocked; they'd come here because of the possibility that they had powers. Perhaps it was because they'd gone so long in their life not knowing, not even suspecting. Or perhaps it was that deep down, they really had been expecting Villain to be wrong. Because how could something like this ever happen to someone as average as them.

"Th-thanks," they finally managed.

The man nodded, seeming sympathetic but also ready to continue with his day.

"D-do, I keep that?" They motioned to the card.

"If you like," the man said, handing it off to them.

They stared at it for several more seconds before sliding it into their pocket with the cash.

"Thanks," they repeated and numbly walked out the door.

Once outside, they walked a couple blocks before finally stopping to look at the card once again. This was real. Really real. They had a power. And they possibly already knew what it was. Should they start testing it out to find the limits? If the mentioned it to Villain, would they have to tell them about the test? Would they even be able to keep that to themself?

With a grimace, they realized they had no story in case Villain was awake when they came back and asked them where they had been. Maybe a quick trip to the bakery would be enough. They'd be upset, but no too upset with a cheese danish in hand.

They only got a block before they were suddenly slammed to the ground.

Their head smacked the earth with an explosion of ugly stars. They twisted blindly, feeling the scrape of gravel against their cheek and tangling into their hair. This wasn't the sidewalk, this was somewhere else. Their fingers scraped toe either side, tips touching the leg of something cool and metal on one side.

They pressed past the throbbing pain beneath their skull.

A...dumpster perhaps? An alley?

Abruptly, both hands were pinned against their sides, gruff hands gripping their wrists so tightly Henchman wouldn't be surprised if they bruised. Warm breath blew across their throat and then warm skin pressed into their hair. The person inhaled deeply through their nose.

A shiver ran down Henchman's spine.

"You smell like them," a raspy voice whispered. It was one part curiosity and two parts self-satisfaction.

Henchman blinked as hard as they could without making the ache in their temples worse, and as the bright spots in their vision dissolved, they made out a long, wind-tossed hair and a crooked nose. The hair was a deep chestnut and it tickled their face as the man leaned over them, a sadistic grin plastered from ear to ear.

"You dear thing, why don't you tell me where you came from?"

"Jer!" a woman's voice said, followed by the crunch of footsteps. "You can't take off like that! What are you--"

She cut off, taking in the scene in front of her. Henchman could hardly see her around "Jer's" head, but they did glimpse the toes of a pair of long mint boots.

"Who are they?" she asked.

"Our way to Villain."

Henchman had already begun to suspect, but that sentence dropped their heart into the pit of their stomach, churning it into heavy nausea. These were heroes.

"I smelt them from a mile away," Jer said, emphasizing his ability with another long sniff, this time in Henchman's neck. "The scent of Villain is all over them."

Some heroes had the power of enhanced senses, usually only one, though some ended up with a combo. This man seemed to have been gifted with an extremely sensitive nose.

The woman stepped up closer, cheeks puffy and ruddy from running, but eyes sharp and glittering as blades. "Where is Villain?" she said, smiling pleasantly even as every nerve in Henchman's body began to writhe in agony.

Henchman bit back the brunt of their scream, but it still escaped through clenched teeth loud enough to echo back to them off the building walls.

Completely unnecessarily, nose-man punched them in the ribs. "We asked you a question."

"I...don't know what you're talking about," Henchman gasped.

They couldn't break; they couldn't let them find out where Villain was.

"Your scent begs to differ."

Another punch to the exact same spot.

"I don't know!" they cried, almost a plead. "I've been all over the city! I could smell like anyone!"

"But you don't smell like anyone, " the woman said. "You smell like Villain."

By this point, their nerves felt stretched and stringy, maybe to the point of snapping.

"I don't know who that is," Henchman said. The ignorance card could probably only take them so far, but they needed to cling to it for as long as it worked.

"Come on," she said. "Just a few little words, and you'll be free to go. I'm feeling generous so I won't even report your involvement with Sun Agency's biggest thorn in the side.

"I don't know what you want!" Henchman begged, finding real tears streaming their cheeks. "I just want to go home! I want to go home."

The woman sighed. "They always choose the hard way."

Henchman wasn't sure how long they spent in that alley. They couldn't quite tell where the pain began or where it ended either. Every bit of them felt like one big wound, so excruciating, they could barely breathe. To their credit, they didn't give up Villain, but they thought about it with every blow.

It might have gone on like that forever if not for Hero.

The terrifying bag of muscle lumbered in and caught sight of Henchman's face, the bruises from the other day's run in a dull yellow across their nose, though it probably paled in comparison to the colors painting their face now.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he said, waving both heroes off of Henchman. "What is going on here?"

"They know Villain," Jer piped up defensively. "They smell just like that scent bottle you gave me to track them with."

Hero blinked a couple times then sighed heavily. "They smell of it because they ran into me the other day. I had it on me to give you and some of it got on my hands during packaging. I probably rubbed it all over them. That stuff is concentrated; it can last for days.

"Crap," the two minor heroes said in unison.

Jer looked over at Henchman with, not horror, but apprehension.

"What do we do?"

"There's nothing to do," Hero said. They paused, looking almost regretful. "Leave them. You can't get another strike on your record."

Jer nodded, and as Hero waved at them, the two heroes scampered off.

Hero crouched down by Civilian for all of three seconds. Their index finger traced a gash down their hairline, sending a crawling chill through their entire body.

"Sorry about this," they said, observing the blot of blood that now stained their skin and rubbing it between their thumb and index finger. And then they were gone too, leaving Henchman flat on their back, too injured to move and staring up toward the sky.

The building tops blurred together with the cerulean blue, twisting kaleidoscopic and sickening. They were so nauseated that eventually Henchman had to close their eyes to fight the acidic burn at the back of their throat.

Once closed, the dark took them quickly.

***

They awoke they didn't know how long later to soft fingers dragging gently through their hair and caressing their face with the delicate touch of butterfly wings.

Henchman suddenly became aware of the agony shooting up every muscle. They groaned pitifully.

"Hey, hey, hey. Dreamcatcher. Henchman. I'm taking you back. It's going to be ok, alright? You're safe now. I'll take care of you."

...

Yeaaah, this is one is definitely rough, another case of wanting to finish it even though I was super tired. I'll fix it up tomorrow.

Part 7

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @ghostfacepepper @vuvulia @inkbirdie

#villain x villain #hero x villain #writing snippet #heroes and villains #villain #creative writing #heroes and villains community #fiction #hero #villain x hero #superheroes and villains #villain x henchman #one bed

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maremartinelli · 3 months

Text

GREECE

Andrew Garfield X fem!reader

Summary: Where Y/n and Andrew spend their vacation in Greece hidden from the paparazzi since they are in a private relationship.

Words: 500+

Warnings: Age difference and lots of sticky cuteness.

Author: Well, after I posted the Sirius imagines here, I thought I'd share other stories I have for my Brazilian readers on my Wattpad. And with that, I already warn you that English is not my first language. I'm sorry if there are mistakes!!!

MASTERLIST

Y/n and Andrew had been dating for a year and in that time they still kept their relationship private. No paparazzi taking photos, crazy fans knowing and press asking questions. It was just them.

And that was great, despite being a little complicated when it came to going out or going on dates. But they had peace, privacy and protection so to speak.

Now, after a while, they faced their fear and decided to take their first trip as a couple. And the destination could not be other than beautiful Greece.

It was a destination that they both wanted to visit, so why not combine the useful with the pleasant?!

"Do you think someone can discover us here?" Y/n says as she and Andrew board a yacht to take a trip around the European sea.

"I don't think so. And if you find out, it doesn't matter. I have my girl by my side" Andrew says smiling at Y/n while putting his arm around the actress's shoulders.

Y/n smiles shyly and leans his head on the older man's shoulder.

The only fear Y/n had for fans when they found out was their age. Not that it was an alarming difference, but 10 years between the two would be enough to say a lot.

The couple enjoyed the first day touring the waters of Greece and when they returned to the hotel, they enjoyed the beautiful view from their room and something else in the middle of the night.

The next day was also wonderful, they took the opportunity to visit the city of Athens and discover more of the city's history from the inhabitants there. Thus, making a midday stop so they could taste the cuisine the country had to offer.

Their little eyes sparkled every where they went. Of course, they shined not only because of the beauty of the place, but because of being with their loved one by their side.

At the moment, Y/n and Andrew stopped at a cozy cafe that had a view of the sea. The establishment was located at the top of the city and gave an incredible view of all European water and the city's villages.

Y/n looked at Andrew while he was looking at the place's menu. He was wearing his sunglasses and a button-down shirt that screamed that he was a local tourist. Darker jeans and sneakers that matched his and Y/n's look.

"I know you're looking at me" he says as he lets out a laugh, making Y/n blush.

"It can't be helped. You look cute in that tourist shirt" Y/n twists his neck to the side as he looks away from his menu again.

"Tourist shirt?" Andrew asks amusedly and lets out a laugh.

"Yes. Notice the tourists who visit Los Angeles. They usually wear button-down shirts that match the place" Y/n says smiling and Andrew shakes his head laughing more.

It doesn't take long for the two to decide what they would eat and Andrew goes into the parking lot to get the food. Thus leaving Y/n at the table outside, while he looked at his cell phone and watched some current gossip.

She smiles when a photo appears that appears to be her and Andrew on one of the trips there in Greece. The page she posted apparently got quite excited about the rumors that made between her and Andrew and about the relationship they could be in. Which wasn't a lie.

"What makes you smile like that, sweet girl?"

Andrew looks at his girlfriend smiling tenderly and places the cappuccino and the piece of cake that Y/n had ordered in front of her. So he returned to his chair to taste the food he had ordered too.

"It seems that there are already rumors about us dating" Y/n smiles, as he turns the cell phone screen for Andrew to see.

He quickly reads what was written and smiles at the slightly blurry photo of the two of them.

"Are you worried about that?" He asks curiously.

Y/n shakes his head and turns off his cell phone screen to enjoy the moment.

"No way, I have you with me" She smiles and Andrew gets shy. "What about you? Worried?"

"Not at all, I have my sweet girl by my side" he says and now it's Y/n's turn to smile shyly.

#fanfiction #y/n #imagines andrew garfield #andrew garfield #the amazing spider man #peter parker #marvel

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firesnap · 1 year

Text

There's this tiktok that gives me very conflicting feelings about teaching. It's this 5th grade teacher who is talking with a parent about how they're struggling to get the parent's daughter to focus and turn in "redo" assignments. Parent asks some legitimate questions of "how does she know it needs to be redone? how does she know deadlines" and so on. They talk and then the parent goes "Well, 4th grade teacher figured out that sometimes a very small incentive like a Starburst or something would help her know when she's actually finished an assignment. Like she knows no more work needs to be done when she's gotten that sort of indicator and she's pretty sweet motivated."

And the teacher is appalled. "I do not give out food for assignments." And the parent, even through the lens of omg ridiculous "Karen" mom flat out is like "I'm just trying to work with you here to come up with a strategy and telling you of one we had a LOT of success with last year. I could buy you a bag of Starbursts so it's not an expense for you." And the teacher is just, again, horrified that the parent is trying and is willing to give the kid something the other students don't get to keep their focus.

But like, my nephew has an IEP in place and this...doesn't sound too far off from how they work out what accommodations work for a student? He gets a special bouncy chair for so much of the day because he fidgets and gets restless. He used to get a reward of an animal cracker or a sticky hand or something similar from his occupational therapist for finishing coloring sheets and stuff.

The language the parent used, even in the tiktok, reminded me of all of that. It's the "She needs an indicator that she's actually finished" and it sounds like it's more of a mental thing of "ok I've been told I have these things to do and I can keep track of them better if I've received my starburst telling me I've finished things." Like it's a focus tool and not straight up bribery?? Am I off here? Because I think the parent is just telling the teacher reasonable accommodations they've made in the past to help their kid complete lists of tasks, offered to cover any expense in doing it, and the teacher is just going "no she has a list."

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invisibleraven · 9 months

Note

"Great! It's a date?" / Rulie

Reggie wasn't sure what to make of the kerfuffle overtaking the Molina kitchen when he entered it. There were bowls set out, ingredients lined up, and a heavenly smell in the air.

And smack dab in the middle of it was Julie, her hair pulled in a messy bun, an apron covering her clothes, and a smudge of flour on her cheek. "Hey Reggie!" she called, sitting to the beat of the song playing on the radio.

"Did you open a bakery while I wasn't looking?" Reggie asked, swiping a cookie from the cooling rack, not even minding that Julie scowled at him when he bit into it. "Because if not, you should, these taste amazing!"

Julie ducked her head, smiling. "Well thank you. But no, Tia asked me to make a few things for her book club. And then I decided to keep baking so we had snacks for band practice and study sessions and the like."

"You need any help?" he offered.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm pretty handy in the kitchen and I spent more than one summer helping MeeMaw make stuff for various functions at Temple," Reggie replied, taking the offered apron and tying it around his waist.

"Okay, well the next one is date bars for Tia," Julie said, gesturing to the supplies set out before them.

"Great!" Reggie said, picking up the weird, misshapen fruit. "It's a date?"

"Yeah, tia likes them, but I'm not a huge fan," Julie said with a shrug.

Reggie took a bite of the fruit. It was sticky, a little sweet, but the underlying flavour wasn't his favourite. Plus the aftertaste lingered in an unpleasant way. "Yeah, I can see why you're not a fan, but we can still do the recipe for Tia."

"You wanna chop or measure?" Julie asked.

"Measure, I'm better with numbers than with knives," Reggie replied, looking over the recipe. Sifting and scooping, whisking and pouring all while Julie chopped beside him, humming along to the radio as she did.

Soon enough they were singing as they put the bars into the oven, taking turns making Luke's favourite peanut butter cookies, and trading off on the dishes; Reggie drying each dish that Julie handed him.

"We make a good team," he said off handedly as the last dish was put away and cookie packaged. "We should do this more often."

"Bake?" Julie asked. "I'd be down for that, I had a lot of fun and it's nice to have someone to help with the clean up."

"I was mostly in it for the free samples and to lick the bowl," Reggie admitted, grinning wide when Julie smacked him playfully across the chest.

"That is a one way ticket to food poisoning Reginald! And I think you've had more than enough experience with that!" Julie shrieked.

Reggie grinned and pulled her into his arms, spinning them around, making Julie laugh wildly. "You know I'll avoid the stuff with the raw eggs Jules, can't have me getting sick and miss our Friday night movie date."

"The uncooked flour isn't much safer," Julie said with an eye roll. "Now we have lots of yummy things to eat that don't require a spatula, so go pick a non Star Wars movie and we can have a double date night this week."

"Sweet," Reggie said, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek before rushing off. Julie grinned, and grabbed a plate full of cookies for them to share-something sweet to accompany Reggie's equally sweet kisses.

And made sure to remember to thank her aunt for a lovely date night-even if she wouldn't know her favourite dessert was the reason behind it.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rulie #julie and the phantoms

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reidsaurora · 2 years

Note

Can you do a head canon of Spencer comforting his gf when she’s sad/stressed/having a panic attack etc?❤️

GIF by @radioactive-creative-bug

S. Reid Headcanons

(comforting edition)

DISCLAIMER: i headcanoned most of these on my own but i will credit any ideas i'm borrowing from anyone else because a lot of other people's hcs are very accurate to the way i see Spence

KING OF BOUNDARIES!!

If he sees you're upset in any way, he's never gonna hug you or get too close without your permission

CEO of asking "Is it OK if I hug you?"

Should you accept his offer of a hug, he's never gonna let go

Always makes you let go first so as to make sure you've received the correct amount of attention that you needed

A perfect mixture of holding your hand and rubbing your back when you have a panic attack

Also I feel like he's the type to be whispering sweet things in your ear

"It's gonna be OK, I've got you"

ALSO KING OF DISTRACTIONS!!!

If he evens senses you're thinking about crying, he's on it with the distractions

I feel like when it gets really bad, he becomes such a gift giver

Telling jokes to cheer you up, asking about your favorite things, giving you random statistics and facts since that's what he knows best

"Hey, did you know that male penguins propose to female penguins by gifting them a pebble?"

I've talked about this before but he loves words of affirmation

So, this obviously bounces onto you

And he puts little sticky note mantras on your desk at work or on your mirror if you live together

"You've got this!" - pretty boy <3

"Focus on the current step, not the whole staircase!" - your lover boy :)

"I bought you a bottle of bubble bath. It's your favorite scent." 🥺

I feel like he really likes to give you shoulder massages when you're stressed

I know he isn't really a religious or spiritual person but I feel like when it gets really bad, he prays for you and asks the team to pray for you too

If you're one of those people that skips meals when you get sad, he always makes sure you eat a little something.

"My love, I brought food from that restaurant up the street that you like. It would make me happy if you tried to eat something for me."

He's definitely a "pros outweigh the cons" kind of guy

So while he's on his lunch break, he writes you a whole list of reasons why he loves you

He wants to wait to give it to you after work but he gets too excited so he gives it to you as soon as he finishes the list

Overall, he's just a sweetheart with the perfect balance of giving you attention and giving you your personal space

you cry over said list in front of all your coworkers

He always makes sure you get enough sunlight by taking a walk with you in the morning before work

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

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finniestoncrane · 2 years

Note

what about 👀 with dano!riddler?? (hope you have a lovely day! 😘😘)

ok my love i've done this one (👀 caught staring) a couple times as a lil scenario/hc thing so for you, i've chosen to write a lil ficlet!!

Caught Staring, word count: 622

thank u for the prompt!!

reply under here, minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff

"Excuse me, but it's making me uncomfortable, the way you're staring..."

You jumped at his words, practically dropping the dishes you were clearing behind the counter. You weren't even aware you were staring at him for that long, or at least not long enough for him to notice anyway.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I was just...distracted. Staring into space! Can I refill your coffee?"

He offered a soft shake of his head, brown hair shaking gently, adorably, with the movement. A small smile passed over his face before he went back to the book he was writing in, only occasionally looking to the side to see if you were still watching him. Which you were, but you hoped you were being more sly now.

There was just something about him. He was boyishly cute, a soft, round face with sweet, plump cheeks. His glasses made him look gentle, vulnerable almost. And when he was deep in concentration with whatever he was scribbling away at, the tip of his tongue poked out. Adorable.

But more than that, you definitely felt like you knew him. There was something tangibly recognisable, but just out of reach of your grasp.

"Miss, I really...I'm sorry but you're kind of distracting me. Is there something I can help you with?"

Caught again. You could feel the heat tinting your cheeks, feel your heart beat jump at his voice.

"No, no. I'm really sorry. It's just...I felt like you...you seem very familiar."

"I don't think I know you at all. I come in here a lot though, maybe-"

"No, I just started yesterday!"

"And they have you closing...alone?"

"Gotham, huh? And with that...Riddler? That guy...but money is money." You offered a meek chuckle, but it was met with stoic silence, and he turned back to his notebook. Desperate to put the whole embarrassing moment behind you, you turned to your closing duties. Kneeling on the sticky floor, you began loading the dishwasher. Standing back up, you let out a small scream as you were met face to face with him.

"Sorry. I just wanted to pay and get out of your hair."

"Oh no! I'm sorry! I just..."

You trailed off as you looked into his eyes. There was definitely something there, a flicker of recognition fluttering around in your mind.

"You're doing it again."

"I...I'm really sorry. Look, this is on the house! I'm sorry for bothering you, but are you sure we don't know each other?"

The television in the corner played out the theme for the local news, before the reporters dove straight into a piece on the Riddler. You were briefly distracted, nervous about your walk home, but you returned your focus to the man at the counter.

"No. You're mistaken."

You were certain there was panic in his voice as he spoke., his eyes darting quickly away as he tried to shield his face from you. He left quickly and you were alone, the last ten minutes of your shift spent listlessly cleaning counters while you desperately tried to place him. You were so deeply invested in pinpointing exactly where you knew that stupidly cute face you hadn't even been worrying about walking home alone in the dark.

Which was a mistake, because your guard was let down. And as you left the diner, locking the door behind you, you were completely unaware of the footsteps behind you. Not until his hand, sheathed in leather, was around your mouth and dragging you into a deserted alley, where you were able to catch a glimpse of your assailant. Green mask, the same as the one on the streams from the news reports, and those glasses, the ones that made him look gentle...vulnerable...

"Recognise me now?"

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wardenred · 7 months

Text

Flufftober 22: Picking

One of those freewriting "can I come up with an entire flash fic in a single writing sprint" things. I feel like I'm maybe stretching the definition of fluff a little...

“Why are you spacing out again?”

I blink, shaking myself back into reality, then immediately wince. While I was stuck in my mind, my babysitting charge had apparently climbed a tree. At least she didn’t go as far as she could have, there’s that. She’s sitting comfortably on a thick branch, snug against the trunk. Her face is all stained with sticky red juice, and she’s stuffing more cherries in her mouth.

“Sorry,” I say. Carefully, I inch closer. The branch really isn’t that high—if Maggie slides off it, I’ll catch her easily. And I’ll be able to swat away those bees buzzing uncomfortably close, or to interfere if she chokes on a cherry stone.

See? I’m a responsible near-adult. Even if I do indeed keep spacing out.

Maggie tosses back her fuzzy black curls and gives me a look that’s positively scrutinizing. “So what’s up?”

I definitely shouldn’t be unloading my worries on a kid. I should change the subject, ask her if she’s excited for school to start in a few weeks, or for her birthday party before that. But I’m feeling off, I guess. Might be because of the heat of the sun scorching the back of my shoulders, or the sweet smells of fruit and flowers all around, or the hornets. There are always too many hornets in this town.

So I tell her the truth. “It’s nothing. There are just two big possibilities in my future right now, and I can only pick one. So I worry about that a lot.”

“You should pick the one you like more, then,” she says, and pops another cherry in her mouth. The stone she spits out a moment later whooshes past my ear and probably gets stuck in my ponytail. Maggie grins. “Oops.”

“That’s the problem, though.” I reach up to tug off the scrunchie and shake out my hair. “I like both.”

“Well, maybe then you shouldn’t be picking anything just yet. Maybe you should just pick cherries with me.”

She offers me one, smashed between her sticky fingers. The juice leaking out at the top looks nearly transparent—how does it leave such deep stains?

“You know what? That just might be the best advice I’ve got in ages.”

The cherry is nearly sweet enough to distract me from my worries.

#warden's random scribbles #writeblr #original fiction #flash fiction #flufftober2023 #day 22 #ya #summer

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charliecarter13 · 7 months

Note

we had to roll a dice and got our main character, setting, and conflict based on what we rolled, then we had to write a short story about it. we got to choose what we wanted our theme to be.

MAIN CHARACTER: A Nervous Bride-To-Be

SETTING: A Hamburger Restaurant In The 1950s

CONFLICT: Ate Some Poisonous Fruit

THEME: Honesty Is Best

Felicity was nervous. Today was her wedding day, and if course she had to wake up late. She had time to brush her teeth, but now she was hungry, as she hadn't had time to eat breakfast.

Luckily though, she had picked her favorite hamburger restaurant as the place she and her fiancé, Curtis, were getting married.

"Hey darling, how are ya?" Curtis walked up to her, already dressed up in his tuxedo, A red rise sticking out of his breast pocket. His brown curls had been slicked back to try to make him look more elegant, but it wasn't exactly working.

"Nervous..." Felicity responded. She knew it was bad luck for him to see her in her wedding dress, though she didn't exactly mind. Then, her stomach rumbled. "Maybe a bit hungry, she added."

Curtis nodded, one of his curls coming out. "Hey, how 'bout I get you something to chow down on? Wouldn't want my dear to starve on our wedding day," he offered, already starting to walk to the front counter. It seemed he wouldn't take a no.

Felicity smiled at the thought of not being hungry. She nodded.

Curtis gave her a thumbs up and went over behind the counter to find the manager.

Now Felicity is sat alone, all dressed up, waiting, pondering over why she feels so... off. Just as she nears a realization, Curtis comes back with an odd looking fruit.

"The manager said she didn't have a lot if extra food, because if the supper we're having after the wedding," Curtis said. He handed Felicity the fruit.

"It's alright. At least it's something, huh?" she chuckled, before taking the strange, purple fruit and biting into it.

The juice was sweet, and tasted almost like a strawberry. She could hardly stop herself from wolfing it down. After she finished, she graciously accepted Curtis's handkerchief.

Even though she had wiped her face, it still felt sticky. She excused herself and went to the bathroom, where she cleaned her face off.

After she cleaned her face, she started to feel a little ill. Felicity felt something coming up her throat and just barely made it to the toilet in time.

She took a second to compose herself, wiping her mouth with a paper towel. Sighing, she took a look at her appearance.

Felicity's skin was pale, her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flushed. She mumbled something about being poisoned. Considering her father had been poisoned, she knew the signs well. She shouldn't have eaten that weird fruit.

"Curtis!" Felicity called out. After a moment, she saw him enter the bathroom.

"My dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked, a bit scared.

"I'm afraid the fruit you gave me was poisoned," Felicity revealed, and Curtis gasped.

"I'll go call off the wedding right away!" he exclaimed, dashing off to find a phone.

Felicity sighed. Even if she was a bit nervous, perhaps even a bit apprehensive, she still wanted to get married. Well, at least she thought she did.

After some ten, twenty minutes, Curtis came back and helped her up. "Don't fret, dear. We shall go question the manager! Dottie, I believe her name was?" Felicity nodded, remembering the manager had introduced herself as Dottie.

Felicity and Curtis walked behind the counter and barged into the manager’s office.

Dottie, the manager, jumped when the two burst in. She looked over at them and groaned, pushing up off the couch.

“Ugh, what do you two need? Wasn’t the wedding cancelled or something?” Dottie paused for a second, a smile coming to her face. “Or did you two figure out I’m a better match for Curtis than her?” she mumbled.

“What? I couldn’t hear you,” Curtis said, cupping a hand around his ear and leaning in.

“Nothing,” Dottie replied quickly, covering up what she said.

“Ah, well, we need to ask a few questions,” Curtis explained.

She sighed, “Fine. Ask away.” Dottie plopped down on the couch, crossing her arms.

Felicity sat in the floor, scanning the items in the room, while Curtis sat in the recliner in the manager’s office.

“So…” Felicity started, not sure how to begin. “Um… where’d you get that fruit?”

Dottie coughed, averting her eyes. “Uhm, what fruit?” she chuckled awkwardly, obviously trying to cover something up.

Curtis shot back, “Oh, you know the fruit! The one that was poisonous!” He basically accused Dottiebif poisoning Felicity.

Dottie let out an incredulous gasp, covering her mouth. “I would never poison a customer!”

Felicity snorted, then pointed to a bag. “Really?” She asked. The bag she pointed to was clearly labeled as ‘poisonous fruit.’ Everyone’s eyes followed to where she was pointing. Dottie let’s put a squeak, and Curtis, a gasp.

The two looked at Dottie with accusatory looks. Dottie weighed her options, then decided to just tell the truth.

“Okay, okay, fine! I admit, I poisoned Felicity! But it’s because I wanted the best for Curtis,” she admits.

“Whatever do you mean?” Curtis asks, scratching his head.

“Don’t you see? She clearly doesn’t love you!” Dottie responds. Felicity listened, too dumbfounded to speak. “Look in her eyes; she’s obviously not committed!” Dottie explains.

Now Felicity realized what she was trying to tell herself earlier; she’s not nervous, she just doesn’t want to marry him!

"What? This isn't true, right?" Curtis looked at Felicity with a pleading look.

"...I'm sorry, Curtis." she admits. "Uh, I'm sure... someone else will marry you!" Felicity says, trying to make him feel better.

"I will!" Dottie exclaimed. Curtis thought it over for a second, before...

"Hm, okay. I think I do actually like you more," he admits. Curtis takes a ring from his pocket, and gives it to Dottie.

Felicity smiled, and she and Dottie go to switch clothes. Curtis calls family, and says the wedding is back on.

In the end, Felicity found out she was much happier on her own, and Dottie and Curtis got married, being in love for the rest of time.

IM SORRY THE “whatever do you mean?” ALWAYS MAKES ME LAUGH— IDK WHYYYY 😭😭😭

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septembersghost · 9 months

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Can you explain what harry's song daylight means? What is he talking about? I don't understand a single thing

so last year, harry said that daylight came from a stream of consciousness, and he and the band ended up staying up all night to finish it because he loved it and didn't want to lose the momentum. "Styles admitted that it was about a particular woman who had not responded in the way he had anticipated, leaving him frustrated." basically, it's about someone who pushed him away despite all the affection he felt.

there are a lot of ways you can read the opening verse (harry's impressionistic lyrics strike again!), but "i'm on the roof/you're in your airplane seat" implies he's up there looking towards the sky where the subject of the song is at a distance and leaving (it could also be a metaphor having to do with the coke in the kitchen, "nose bleeding" can be from altitude or a side effect). "reading your horoscope" implies he's paying attention or trying to figure that person out, while in return he's being ignored while she's getting high and not listening. "i hope you're missing me by now" because he was trying to offer real care but it was being brushed off.

then the chorus is wishing they could close that distance ("if i was a bluebird, i would fly to you" which is a metaphor harry's used similarly, though in very different song form, back in if i could fly. and they'd stick together and be difficult to part, like a spoon dipped in honey - the sticky sweetness maybe being a reference to how it felt being together, or because honey is also the color of daylight. or both!) he's cursing the daylight either because it's when they're parted (as usually they share nights - "ain't gonna sleep 'til the daylight") or because that's the time he can't get away from remembering everything they had.

the second verse is a happy memory - a carefree day together when they were "looking for life out there" with one another (he's still looking for it in the first verse, but on his own). the "comedown speed" to me is the implication of a depressive mood, but it could be slowing down in general (in the relationship and literally on the bike), the reason why i think it's suggesting that he's feeling low is because their connection is something he believes makes it better ("you've got the antidote") and he wants that to stay and be with him ("i'll take one to go"), but the investment he feels isn't reciprocal (implying cutting him/his heart out of the picture altogether, because "you ain't got time for me right now"). so he's stuck going round and round (satellite...reference unintended, but totally fits because it's a similar scenario!), calling at all hours without an answer, wishing it was as easy to fix as a bluebird taking flight, the spoon in the honey, the perpetual daylight that keeps coming back even though his long distance love doesn't.

#explaining always feels so hard for some reason! the picture makes perfect sense in my head but then trying to put it into words doesn't!#i hope this helps a little though 💛#anonymous #letterbox #your delicate point of view #you got me cursing the daylight #also daylight is a prime example of how hs3 sounds bright and sunny but is often melancholy underneath

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luveline · 2 years

Note

omg please the same james and reader from ur two drunk reader blurbs but w drunk james and he's like "i dont wanna be your friend" cause. u know (unless you have a different idea for them or u think this defeats the purpose idk up to you i love you thanks)

thank you so much for your request, this was perfect! really perfect, it got away from me a little bit <3 the prequels (you don't have to read): 1 2 3

You watch James struggle through a tequila shot with a fond look on your face. Leaning against the cold brick wall of Sirius Black's house, you can smell the comforting wafts of woodsmoke as the outdoor burner putters away, the sticky sweet smell of foxglove that peeks over the tops of his ordinate brown fence, the whispers of James' cologne where it lingers on his jacket. You wrap it tighter around yourself to stave off the cold chill.

James sees this because he sees everything.

"Are you cold?" he calls.

You shake your head vehemently, lying but for a reason. If James knows you're cold, still, even after he's sacrificed his jacket for you, the too-kind boy will insist on going inside or taking you home. He's having a good time for once and you want that to continue. It's also the reason why you refuse the tequila offered to you. You don't want him to have to babysit you, and you've not quite learned moderation yet: you're trying. It's hard. Easier with James.

He gives you a perfect smile, lips stretching over teeth and nose twitching. You're close to the fire, its heart warming your legs. James sits in a garden chair at a table of his friends. It's a tame party with an obvious VIP section that you feel lucky to be included in, though you know it's just because James is sweet on you, not because his friends really like you that much.

Well, maybe they do. This is one of the only times you've been sober enough to tell. Or care.

James seems to be drinking for the both of you as he loses yet another hand of cards. Sirius had proposed the - quite frankly dangerous knowing James' awful poker face - rule of taking a shot each time you lose. James has thrown back one, two, five, you can't remember how many shots. There's a distinct brightness to his eyes. His card skills are deteriorating quickly.

You're in no position to tell him to slow down, so you don't, but his pale friend Remus has your back.

"Mate, stop. Sirius, don't make him have another."

Sirius shrugs. "I's the rules."

"James," Remus starts, then sighs as your dark-haired friend takes another shot. "Alright, you're banned. Go bother your girlfriend."

You blush because you know he means you. James grins wide but then seems to realise he's being kicked out of the game.

"Fuck off, I'm gonna win this one."

A fresh hand is dealt and Remus peaks at James' inquisitively. "No," Remus says, patting James on the shoulder. "You're not." Then, when he makes no move to get up. "Y/N just said she was cold."

James looks to you, betrayed. You look to Remus, betrayed. Remus looks at neither of you, and instead stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray smouldering away in the middle of the circle glass table to take a big swig of beer. He seems smug.

"Smarmy bustard," you mumble to yourself with no real heat, traitorous face quickly transforming as James rounds the table. He's tall, looking down at you all soft-eyes and scolding. "Hi, Jamie."

"You're cold?" he asks.

You sigh, knowing that sooner rather than later, James' bloodstream is going to absorb the exorbitant amount of tequila he has drank, and then you are going to be in a lot of trouble. "Yeah. A bit. Aren't you?" you ask, and your question is sincere, looking over the bulk of his arms curiously and then with too much heat. You feel awful for thinking it, but he has very, very nice arms. He looks like he could pick you up. He looks like he could set you down.

You're knocked from your unholy reverie by his hands, big and hot and kind as they rub up and down your arms. The friction is warming. The proximity is worse, a heat like hell in your chest. He's not looking at you as he says, "I'm warm-blooded."

So am I? You think to yourself.

He smirks as his eyes travel back to your face, though it's quickly gone, turns soft once again. He smiles at you slowly.

"You look very pretty tonight. Have I told you?"

"You might have mentioned it," you murmur bashfully. He'd said it with little fanfare as you got in the car, so earnest it had felt inarguable, "You look stunning."

"Shall I tell you again?"

You put his obvious flirting down to drunkeness and push up off of the wall, hoping for a little bit of space between you so you can regain your balance and wits.

"D'you want to go inside? See if they're playing any good music?" you ask, though they're probably playing the same records they always play here.

James nods like you know he will and you smile your thanks, weaving through potted plants and over cracked paving stones into the house. The patio doors lead into the kitchen, which is busy with Mary and the other girls trying to cook four frozen pizzas on two pizza trays, and a bunch of people you don't know at the table talking rapidly about something you don't follow. James seems more interested and you selfishly grab for his hand to pull him with you into the living room.

He doesn't argue. "Is it me or is the floor soft?" he asks, words bundled together sloppily, fingers tight to the point of aching in your hand. He almost trips over the threshold.

You flex your finger until he eases his grip, looking for somewhere for him to down. There, in the corner of the room, a desk chair. It spins, unfortunately, but James seems to like it.

"There," you say, patting his shoulder with your free hand. He has adamantly refused to let go of the other.

They're playing a Stevie Wonder song. James doesn't know the words so he hums, and you try to think of conversation. Much more difficult when you're not inebriated.

"How're you feeling?" you ask him, leaning down.

He slouches in the chair. "Great!" he says too loudly. "You're not drinking?"

"I'm trying to be less of a burden on you," you tell him, lips barely moving as you confess. You're embarrassed. James seems to take a moment to ingest this. During his silence you fix his hair tentatively, tucking ink black curls behind his ears, marvelling at their almost elfin point. You readjust his glasses as you go, pushing them up his nose carefully.

"There," you say, allowing yourself a quick squeeze of his cheek, a rapid dip into his honeypot eyes. "Good as new."

"You're not a burden on me," James says. You laugh, wondering if this conversation will be two steps back the entire time.

"Thanks, James. But I knew you'd say that."

He frowns, shifting in the chair, chin jutting up almost testily. It's attractive, to say the least, and you're busy soaking up the details of his jaw when he says, "How could you know?"

You're close enough to smell the tang of alcohol on his breath.

"Because you're a good friend," you tell him. You go to straighten your back, stand tall again to join the party. James pulls you back in, hand wrapped into the fabric of his jacket.

"A good friend," he repeats, licking his lips as he looks at yours. You feel a wave of heat wash over you. "Is that all I am?"

You feel terrible, then. "No! Jamie, you're amazing. At everything, I value you for much more than your friendship."

If he were sober you think he might have poked fun at your sappy confession or your nervous disposition. Tipsy James has much less humour.

"What I mean, is: I don't want to be your friend, sweetheart."

Your heart skips. For a split second you think, fuck, fuck, I've fucked it up and he hates me and then something in your brain clicks. Resounding, reverberating, a wave of chills follow. Your arm hairs stand on end.

James is still looking at you seriously, dark, beautiful and somehow formidable.

"James…" you look down at his lap where your joined hands rest. "You're drunk."

"You don't believe me?"

You kind of don't. All his physical signs, his heat, his magnetism and charm, they all might lead you to believe he liked you. The way he's looking at you now might have proven it alone. But he really is intoxicated, and you're not the catch he thinks you are.

"I can't believe you," you say.

"Because I'm drunk."

"Because you're drunk. Because I'm not."

He runs the fabric of his borrowed jacket between his fingers, seemingly eating up the sight of your neck. "I don't follow," he says quietly.

"I'd have to be drunk to believe it. Because it's – ridiculous. Because it doesn't make any sense. I'm sloppy, and stupid, and irresponsible and selfish. You could have any girl you want," you whisper the last sentence pleadingly, hand placating on his shoulder. You feel the corded muscle beneath shift as he sits up.

"I want you," he says, and tries to kiss you.

You hold him away from you. "James, stop."

That one word makes him back off, looking lighter, expression abated by confusion.

"You don't want me?" he asks.

You bite your lip and turn your face to the side, as if searching for something to save you, a friend, a distraction. This side of the room is abandoned, everybody crowds the record player.

You can't think. You don't know what to do.

"James," you say, always his name, always like you were meant to say it. "You don't know what you're saying. What you're doing. And even if I believed that you did, I just saw you drink half a bottle of tequila. It doesn't matter what I want."

His pupils wobble as his eyes move from one side of your face to the other. He seems to deflate, sighing loud, hand falling from your jacket. You're relieved as you stand, taking back a little bit of space. He's still holding your hand.

He lifts them up. "This is okay, though?"

"Yeah. This is okay."

"Sit down?" he asks, rolling the chair back so you can sit on the desk.

You sit. He pinches your fingers, and after a while you feel his soft head of curls rest on your thigh.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hand impulsively coming to card through them.

"Trying to sleep it off," he says into your skin. “S’I can tell you again.”

Your heart stutters. You sort your fingers through his hair for a long time, thighs going numb. He talks to you in fits and starts that you strain to hear until he falls asleep. You keep stroking his hair. You don't know what else to do.

"Oh, sweetheart," you murmur to yourself, taking the glasses from his face carefully. He smiles in his sleep like he's heard you. He has a nice smile.

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble

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pierrotprincess · 2 years

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hya hey! i jus recently got into the security break fnaf and it’s taken me over oops. so i was wondering if you’d be open to writing about the main 4 with a sweet tooth/lover of candy? thanks (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

(love your work btw)

HELP IM ALSO DROWNING IN FNAF

ANYWAYS, yeah, I really like this idea! (and also thank you so much omggggg (≧◡≦)) this also kinda ended up being about how well each member would be able to cook, what they would make for you, and their own preferences and stuff like that! hope you don't mind :}

I'm going to preface the hcs with; I headcanon that even if the animatronics don't need to eat food, they can still taste it and eat it so that at parties with kids it feels like they're more real! They have their own preferences with food!

Glamrock Freddy 🍯

Literally always has candy on him just for you, he's literally like a grandma (yes he has Werther's Originals and yes he has the little strawberry candies).

He used to fill his chest cavity with it, but it ended up melting and he ended up needing to be repaired.

Even though he indulges you and your sweet tooth, he does sometimes feel guilty about it since he knows it's bad for your health

He tries to make sure you've eaten something nutritious before giving you anything, but you're able to get by him very easily because of how trusting he is.

To add onto the headcanon I made about him leaving notes for you; he would also leave little candies along with the notes!

Though he's the second best in the band at cooking (first place belongs to Chica obviously), he absolutely cannot bake.

That doesn't mean he won't try though! He asks Chica to teach him her ways, and he's managed to perfect a chocolate chip cookie recipe!

He loves honey and puts it on everything.

Yes it's because he's a bear, no I will not elaborate.

Montgomery Gator 🌶

He pretends that he only likes spicy foods and will go so far as to just down hot peppers front of people. He also "doesn't like sweet things"

One night you waltzed into his green room and you caught him with marshmallows stuck on his claws like olives

Needless to say, you accept your mutual love of sweets, but that doesn't mean you'll ever let him live this one down.

0/10 cook/baker don't let him near the kitchen. Don't even let him order takeout. Literally if you asked him to cut anything, he'd stab at the food until it's turned into mush.

He's jealous that everyone else in the band but him has the ability to feed you, and he genuinely believes that the secret ingredient to good food is love.

He will literally steal sweets from small children to bring to you (he got caught by sun stealing from the daycare and was never the same again after that).

His favorite candy is warheads because he's a menace. 😁

DEFINITELY offers to beat piñatas with you as a romantic gesture.

Glamrock Chica 🧁

She feeds you EVERYTHING she bakes. She says she wants to perfect her recipes but you both know it's because she loves seeing you happy

She lets you lick the batter off of the spatula. :}}

Calls you a lot of baked good and just generally sweet related nicknames (sugar, muffin, sweet pea, CUPCAKE!!)

I also headcanon she has a southern accent, so those nicknames are exactly what you'd expect out of her.

We all obviously know she likes cupcakes, but I think her favorite baked goods are cake pops! She really likes to make them, and she also likes to make ice pops as well!

Without a doubt she'll hand feed you, and the others will tell you guys to get a room.

She'll save you the leftover cake from kids' birthday parties.

Roxanne Wolf 🥞

She can't cook very well, and she knows it, but she'll still insist on making you one thing. Pancakes! It's the only thing she knows how to make so be prepared for a lot of them.

She puts chocolate chips in your pancakes!

She doesn't really understand why you like sweet things so much, but she secretly thinks it's really cute

She thought you were going to get syrup or something on her when she first met you, and she called you a sticky IPad kid.

That was literally what she called you until you told her your name.

She would blame you if one of the keys on her keytar got jammed.💀

Though she works with kids, she hasn't tried much candy at all since she's so distracted with herself the majority of the time.

you bring in something new to share with her everyday!

She has a picture of you in her room of you eating straight whipped cream and sprinkles or something like that, and it's her favorite thing ever.

#glamrock freddy x reader #monty x reader #chica x reader #roxanne wolf x reader #glamrock chica x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf sb x reader #security breach x reader #fnaf headcanons #security breach headcanons #writing for monty is so funny

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demonsandco · 3 years

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I searched through your blog and I'm honestly so surprised you don't have more Simeon content. That being said, if you're still doing it, can I get the WHOLE smut alphabet for Simeon?

You’re right! It’s a shame cause he’s very much one of my favorites now that we get to see more of him in game! Normally I wouldn’t do the entire alphabet like this because it’s… a lot, but Simeon deserves it uwu. This is nearly 3000 words, which makes it my longest post yet by a long shot!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Simeon is such a sweetheart after sex. He’s not actually sleepy, but his limbs feel like jelly and he’s full of so many soft, loving emotions. All he wants to do is keep his partner close in his arms, slyly stealing kisses from their lips and whispering words of love in their ear. He’s not eager to get up or move at all, but he’s willing to have a bath or grab some water if they join him. Sex leaves him feeling rather emotional and vulnerable, and he really just wants to feel them near him and hear their voice.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Simeon’s favorite part of his body is his hands. He wears gloves often to protect them, leaving his skin feeling so soft and smooth. He’s a very hands on type of person, and he’s quite skilled with them, too. One of his favorite things to do during sex is run his hands up and down his partner’s sides, feeling their warmth under his palms.

In turn, Simeon loves every part of their body. If he had to pick just one part, though, it would be their eyes. He’s a firm believer in the saying that “eyes are the windows to the soul” and he could lose himself in their gaze. He’s fond of maintaining eye contact, watching their expression shift as they get close and memorising the different shades and tones that make up their eye color.

(Cont under the cut)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Simeon cums so much, both in quantity and frequency, but he hates the messiness of it. It feels good in the moment, but it gets cold and sticky way too quickly for his liking. He really likes to see his partner covered in his cum, as though he marked them as his in a way only the two of them would know about, but he’s always quick to help clean them up before it gets uncomfortable.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Simeon really doesn’t have anything that he would call a dirty secret. All the sexual experiences he’s had in the past have been quite tame and he’s very much not the type of person to feel ashamed about his past actions or keep them secret. He’s an open book when it comes to relationships and sex.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, angels are allowed to have sex. As long as it doesn’t impact their duties, angels can do whatever they want with their private lives, and Simeon very much took advantage of that. He’s had quite a few partners in the past, especially before the war took place. His original rank as a Seraph gave him a lot of popularity among other angels. His experiences have taught him a lot about how to make his partner feel good in many different ways, but he never really had the chance to figure out what he enjoys. There’s a huge opportunity for them to experiment with his body and to teach him more than just the basics.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Simeon is really open to experimenting and trying out new positions, so he doesn’t have just one favorite. However, the positions he enjoys most are ones where he can see his partner’s face, especially if the position lets him pull them against his chest when he feels the need for closeness. He’s open to just about any position, though, even if it seems rather absurd at first.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simeon isn’t goofy enough to ruin the moment, but his playful nature definitely shines through. If he’s in bed with someone, that means he feels close to them emotionally, too, so he feels comfortable enough to not stay serious all the time. Sometimes things go wrong in the moment or something silly gets said out loud on accident. He doesn’t see anything wrong with laughing it off or jokingly teasing each other. He’s good at telling when the mood allows for some laughs and when some composure is necessary.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Being an angel, Simeon’s body is almost entirely hairless. Besides the hair on his head, the only other hair on him is a small patch above his cock and a very faint happy trail. He doesn’t enjoy the feel of shaving, but he does keep it very neatly trimmed at all times. Colour wise, it matches the hair on his head perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Simeon is quite romantic in the moment. Love and intimacy are very important aspects of sex to him, and that comes through in most of his actions. His pace, his preferred positions, everything reflects that intimacy that he craves. Through it all, he’s sweet talking to his partner, letting them know how good they make him feel, how important they are to him, and how much he loves them. He knows he might come across as too intense, but he wants to make sure they know that sex isn’t just about the physical aspect for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Simeon rarely, if ever, feels the need to masturbate. Without a partner, sex really isn’t something he thinks about often, and if he does have a partner, he’d much rather take care of his need with them, rather than on his own. If he does end up jacking off, though, he always ends up fantasising about them, and he finds that he can’t actually cum without imagining them being there with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Unsurprisingly, Simeon has a corruption kink. It came as a huge shock to him when he first realised it, but something about having his sweet little human tempt him and lead him down a path of “sin” excites him. It feeds into his rebellious nature that he constantly tries to control. It gives him a rush of adrenaline whenever they convince him to do something shameful or lewd and he finds himself enjoying it and even craving more instead of actually feeling shame.

As well, Simeon also has a massive praise kink. He always strives to please his partner as best as he can and getting positive reinforcement, something he rarely hears normally, sends shocks of pleasure shooting down his spine. The more praise he gets, the more eager he is to be good. If he’s being bratty, praising his good behavior in the past gets him to behave much quicker than a “punishment” would.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Simeon’s preferred location is either his or his partner’s room. It’s a place that feels safe and familiar, while also offering privacy. They can take as much time as they want and be as loud as they feel like without having to worry about anyone bursting in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Getting Simeon turned on is pretty easy. All his partner needs to do is be direct with their advances. Their boldness excites him. He isn’t the type of person to get turned on by seemingly innocent actions, so their intent needs to be clear. That, alongside some suggestive touches, is more than enough to get him in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Simeon is usually open to trying anything once and there’s not a lot that he’s opposed to, but he is very serious with his boundaries. He refuses to allow sex with his partner to start impacting his day to day life. Skipping classes, missing meetings, or even risking being late to something, even if it’s not important, in favor of sex is a big no for him. He makes his boundaries very clear from the start, and will quickly become harsh if his partner doesn’t respect them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Simeon has almost no experience in oral, giving or receiving, but it quickly becomes one of his favorite things. He could spend hours between his partner’s thighs without getting bored. While he’s rather hesitant and unsure at first, he’s very skilled at reading their reactions and starts adjusting his technique to make them feel as good as possible.

He doesn’t enjoy receiving quite as much, but he still loves it! It’s so easy for his partner to make him cum or overstimulate him with just their mouth. The warm wetness of their mouth feels divine and their breath is so hot against his skin, he can’t help but cum embarrassingly quickly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Simeon greatly enjoys taking his time with his partner, keeping a slow and sensual pace and exploring every inch of their body with his mouth and hands. He’s not a fan of rushing, even as he gets closer to his peak, he keeps his pace steady, his body molding against theirs. He’s not opposed to going faster if they prefer that, but his favorite pace will always be slow and intimate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Simeon is not a fan of quickies. He’ll be open to trying it at least once, but he knows from the start that it’s not his cup of tea. The whole thing just feels so rushed and impersonal to him. The most important part of sex to him is the intimacy and emotional connections, and quickies feel very lacking in comparison. If anything, they leave him craving his partner even more than before.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Simeon is very open to experimenting and he’s always excited to learn and experience new things. He’s willing to try anything once, even if it’s something that he’s pretty sure he won’t enjoy. The idea of taking risks also interests him, but it needs to only be a perceived risk for him to participate. Something like messing around in an empty classroom at RAD is exciting, but it needs to be afterhours when the school is empty and the door has to be locked for him to feel comfortable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Simeon’s stamina is not the best, at least at first. He can go for more rounds than the average human just because he’s an angel, but he’s so unbelievably sensitive that the rounds themselves are rather short. It’s been so long since he’s had anyone touch him sexually that he ended up cumming in his pants the first time he was with his partner. With time, his stamina will improve drastically, probably to the point where he could easily outlast them, but he needs some practice to get there.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys aren’t something Simeon has ever really thought about using or has ever owned. When he sees the huge variety of toys that exist, he feels excited to try them out, mostly relying on his partner’s preferences and recommendations to pick some. He quickly learns that he really enjoys having them use different toys on him and, in turn, he loves the new opportunities the toys give him when it comes to pleasuring them in return. The possessive, prideful part of him that is usually buried very much prefers making his partner feel good on his own, without toys to help, but most of the time, he doesn’t mind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The first time he teases his partner, it’s entirely accidental, his habit of going slow and taking his time exploring their body ends up making him tease them. Once he sees the way it makes them feel, though, he starts doing it on purpose, wanting to see more of their reactions. He’ll relent, with a smug little smile on his face, if they start begging, but until then, he plays the innocent card, pretending not to realise what he’s doing.

As much as he likes to dish it out, Simeon really can’t take much teasing. He’s so sensitive and desperate that he’ll start begging immediately, willing to do anything just to feel more of their touch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Simeon is naturally very loud and he lets out the prettiest sounds. At first, he tries to muffle them and keep his volume down. He talks quite a bit, at least while he’s still able to form coherent thoughts, and loves to whisper sweet things to his partner in a breathy tone. The closer he gets to cumming, the more his words devolve into delicate gasps and high pitched moans. When he cums, he lets out the longest, breathiest whine that no amount of gritting his teeth or covering his mouth could smother. He’s very vocal throughout, and without some sort of soundproofing, his voice can very much be heard through the walls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Simeon has a hard time controlling his wings during sex. He can’t focus hard enough to keep them hidden and they tend to have a mind of their own, fluttering and puffing up depending on how he feels. They’re quite sensitive in the moment too, especially at the base. In the end, he finds himself wrapping his wings around his partner as he pulls them close, keeping them warm and safe under his feathers. Unfortunately, this usually means that the bed is covered in feathers from all his flapping and wiggling.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Simeon has such a pretty cock, so perfectly smooth that it almost looks like a drawing rather than an actual dick. He’s large enough to be impressive without seeming intimidating, with just enough girth to feel like a stretch, but not be painful. It’ll still take some prep for his partner to take him, but it won’t be too difficult with some patience and plenty of lube.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Simeon’s libido isn’t very high at all, and sex isn’t something that’s on his mind constantly. What matters to him most is spending quality time with his partner, regardless of what they’re doing together. They usually need to be the one to actually initiate things, since he has no qualms with pushing down his need to avoid ruining the moment. With how much he values physical touch, it’s not hard for cuddles to become something more, and as long as there’s time for it, Simeon will never say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sex doesn’t exactly leave him feeling sleepy, but it does make him feel extraordinarily relaxed. He tends to follow his partner’s lead, staying awake longer if they don’t plan to sleep right away. With how warm and soft he feels, though, he has no trouble falling asleep quickly, cuddling them close to his chest to absorb more of their body heat. If it’s up to him, he prefers to share some casual pillow talk together, before falling asleep soon after. If he can avoid having to get up and be functional, he will.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me simeon #obey me smut #smut alphabet #lime time #anon ily this was a wonderful ask #it took fucking ages to finish tho lmao

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