#it was at an eating disorder camp ??? I wasn’t going there but I was there as like. idk a diversity hire? to talk about trees? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samkerrworshipper · 8 months

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let me love you | Leah Williamson x Reader

a lot of angst, ending in fluff, themes of eating disorders, depression and alcohol abuse, 5900 words

please keep sending request yall i need something to feed my brainnn

i’m stuck on a blurb for this so basically just what happens after a rough moment in r and leah’s relationship, can they fix it? can they learn to love each other again? the photo i’ve used says it all lol

it’s piecy and i think u can see my sleep deprivation in this one but hope you enjoy!

I’d known going into camp that I was in trouble. That as soon as the team doctor did our pre camp exam that I was going to be fucked. With the extensive weight loss I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was approached but I hadn’t expected it to be the first night.

I’d been lying in my bed, in my room by myself. I was rooming with Keira this camp, but luckily enough she spent most of her time in Lucy or Leah’s room so I didn’t see much of her. I’d had the tv playing in the background, to fill the room with something other than the sound of my breathing and the sound of me scrolling through my phone. Then my little bubble, my perfect barrier that I’d created was broken by the resounding noise of someone knocking at my door.

“Y/n, it’s me.”

Sarina. Fuck.

“It’s open.”

It was probably the polite thing to get up and open the door but I was comfortable in my bed and while Sarina was terrifying I couldn’t see her getting mad at me over something so minor. The door cracked open and I switched the tv off out of respect for the manager who had closed my hotel room door behind her. Her face was unsteady, like she was unsure how to approach the conversation, something that I’d never seen on her.

“You missed dinner.”

“I feel asleep, the jetlag has tossed me around a little bit. I didn’t even realise until I woke up twenty minutes ago.”

It wasn’t a lie, I had travelled an obscene amount in the past twenty four hours. I’d flown from Cabo to New York, then spent 20 hours in New York with Kristie and some of the Gotham girls before getting on a plane to take me to Barcelona, where I’d spent a very short eight hours with Keira and Lucy before we got on a plane to London to bring us to camp. It had been hectic to say the least and had resulted in one of my suitcases being lost and me being in a very lengthy back and forth discussion with British Airways about how my luggage had ended up in Austria and that no, I didn’t have the time to go to Austria to retrieve it.

“I think we need to have a talk.”

Sarina’s foot was tapping nervously at her side, it was her tell, she was about to have a hard conversation that was not going to be easy to go over.

“Okay.”

She nodded at me.

“Meeting room 2, five minutes?”

I gulped, fuck, a meeting room. It had gone from informal to a little bit to formal for my liking. I nodded regardless, too scared to reply in any other way.

“Yes Ma’am.”

As soon as Sarina had left my room I was throwing myself out of the bed to throw on some proper clothes and make myself look a little bit more presentable. I threw on my light blue tech fleece and puffer jacket that we all had and then very haphazardly threw my hair into a greasy high pony. I pushed some mascara through my eyelashes and some moisturiser on my skin before coming to the conclusion that no amount of makeup was going to be able to disguise the purple bags under my eyes. Once I was done making myself look a little bit less dead I picked up my phone and keycard from my bedside table and left the room, making my way down the hallway towards the meeting rooms.

The meeting rooms had a multitude of purposes, zoom calls, skypes, video review, contract signing. Business stuff mainly, not a talk with your coach. That was what had me trembling a little bit as I made my way closer to the meeting rooms. When I got to the door of the second one, the one I’d been told to go to I waited outside of it for a few seconds before lifting my fist and knocking twice on the door. I didn’t have to wait long for a reply, Sarina was at the door opening it for me in a matter of seconds. I stepped into the room quickly, my eyes recognising all the faces in the room.

I was directed to a seat at the table, sitting directly across from Sarina, Leah, Millie and our team doctor. Lucy and Keira were seated on either side of me and the whole vibe of the room was enough to tell me that I was royally fucked.

“We are all here to have an open conversation about your recent medical exam.”

I kept my eyes on my own hands, which were resting on the table, playing with the rings that adorned my hands. I couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to look into the eyes of a woman who a few weeks ago I had loved so intensely and now couldn’t even think about without crying.

“You're here to tell me that I’ve dropped a dangerous amount of weight considering my normal weight class, that I should get some further tests done even though we know that there is nothing medically wrong with me. We’ll beat around the bush a little bit, try to ignore the fact that we all know that you can’t allow me to play when I’ve dropped this much weight and then you’ll send me home.”

Sarina’s jaw was set firmly, I could make out that much as my eyes darted up to the older woman quickly to catch a look at her facial expression.

“Do you want to die Ms y/l/n.”

I was taken aback massively by the question, because who asks a person that question, especially in this context.

“I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation with certain people in the room. I don’t want to die necessarily but living right now isn’t exactly ideal either. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’ll admit that, I’m aware. I’ve neglected my body, prioritised other things. I knew walking in here that I’d dropped 2 stone and I wasn’t proud of it. I just went through an intense break up though, I’ve been in Cabo for three weeks, most of which I don’t remember. I know that it’s bad, I know that as an athlete we have expectations but I need some wiggle room, I need you to give me a shot to make this better. Because I honestly believe that in this environment I can fix it, I’ll get the weight back, I’ll get back into therapy or whatever. I’ll give up the bad habits, I just need a period of grace.”

I couldn’t look at Leah, couldn’t let myself out of fear that my brave face would fall and I’d be left in shambles sitting here. I just needed to convince Sarina that I could get my shit together.

She was in front of my brooding for a few minutes, leaving everyone in the room in an awkward silence.

“Everyone out besides Leah and you.”

Fuck.

I watched as everyone else slowly got up, Lucy giving me a reassuring pat on the back before exiting the room.

“I’m giving you both five minutes to explain what the fuck happened between you two, because as much as you both want to make it sound like nothing it isn’t. Everyone can feel it and obviously it's affecting the both of you.”

I still couldn’t look at her, it just hurt.

“Seems like I’m the only one who’s suffering.”

“That’s not true nor fair y/n. Leah’s having her own struggles.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes at the table.

“She’s the one who caused the problems in the first place so I’d call that karma.”

The tension in the room was thick, like a cloud laid over us.

“That’s not fair, you had a part in it as well.”

“I had a part in you kissing Jordan at a party?”

“Jordan kissed me first off, drunkenly, she apologised profusely to both of us when she was sober. You soberly made the decision to kiss fucking Alexia.”

If the tension could have thickened anymore, it did.

“You cheated on me with your ex, I think I can cheat on you with my ex situation.”

“Do you realised how fucked up that whole ideology is? I didn’t want to cheat on you, anyone who was there that night will tell you that I physically pushed Jordan off of me, I didn’t want it to happen. I know it hurts you, but you wouldn’t even hear me out, you didn’t answer my calls or texts. I didn’t know where you went, just heard from Lucy that you’d decided to go abroad for a few weeks and you were turning your phone off. I spent 3 days sitting in Keira’s apartment balling my eyes out because I missed you so much, I haven’t slept properly ever since, I can’t fucking live without you y/n/n.”

Leah was sobbing and it hurt a part of me that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to hug her, wipe the tears from her face and apologise for my stupidity, to make it all better. But I was stubborn as shit and I also hadn’t really forgiven Leah. I hadn’t forgiven myself either.

That night had been the worst one of my life. Seeing Leah making out with Jordan had broken my heart and before I knew it I’d been running out of the bar we’d been celebrating in and calling Ale because she was my person and then she was picking me up and taking me back to my apartment and she was comforting me on our sofa and then we were kissing and Leah was walking in, mascara smeared and tears down her face and then Ale was running out of the apartment. I ended up waiting for Leah to fall asleep before I’d fled. I’d been terrified, my fear response was flight, when I was scared I fled, so that was what I’d done on that godforsaken night.

“I don’t really give a shit who did what. You both fucked up, that’s evident. We have the olympic coming up, Leah you are coming off of an ACL injury and you are going to be our captain, y/n, we need you on top of your game for us to win. I won’t deal with this team being torn into shreds because the both of you are too stubborn to talk about your feelings. Am I understood?”

Both Leah and I nodded meekly at Sarina, the both of us equally terrified of the dutchwoman and the tone of voice she was using towards us, like we were six year olds.

“Y/n, I’ll give you a grace period, two weeks. You’ve got two weeks to show that you can make some improvement in your habits, but there will be conditions if you wish to continue training and playing during those two weeks. You will eat every single meal, with the rest of the team. You aren’t going to work out beyond our team scheduled gym sessions. You will go back to talking to a therapist on a weekly basis. You are going to socialise with your teammates instead of holding yourself up in your room by yourself. You and Leah will room together until you can prove to me that you can be civil. If any of these conditions are broken you will find yourself sidelined, am I understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Sarina nodded at me, her blue eyes staring intensely into my own, I was trying to get away from this situation, away from the confrontation that was only bound to get worse the longer Leah and I were stuck in a room together.

“You are free to go, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

I’d given Sarina a quick nod before bolting out of my seat and straight out of the room. I was pretty sure I’d had the worst 96 hours of my life. My whole body felt like it was on fire, my hair and face were still greasy from all of the airplane travel and my eyes just hurt. I half jogged my way back to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me almost as soon as I’d closed the door behind me. I slowly slid down against the solid wood, this whole situation was so fucked.

Not only did I have to focus on being fucking civil with a woman who I hated, I had to fucking turn my whole life around in a matter of two weeks, which right now seemed pretty fucking impossible. I wasn’t a person who cried very often, I wasn’t in touch with my emotions like that. But right now, fat, warm, wet tears were dripping down my face and my lip was wobbling between my two front teeth trying to suppress the sobs that were coming up from my throat. Love hurt. Loving someone and being loved is one of the hardest things that I’d ever done, because it’s not easy to spend every day loving a person, it fulfilling but it also is so fucking painful.

I could hardly make up the energy to get off the floor, so I didn’t. I sat against the door, crying, shaking and trembling as I let out the feelings that I’d built up for the last month. I was a person who didn’t cry very often, when I was drunk, when someone died, when I was really hurt. That was the extent of my emotional release. Leah was similar, that’s why we’d hit it off, neither of us were over emotional, we didn’t read into things and we didn’t over complicate anything. At the end of the day neither of us had to worry about the other one getting offended by a joke or drunken words. I’d honestly believed we were soulmates, for a long time, but that night had wrecked it all.

Both of us had been stupid, it had been the celebratory night of our win in the Nations League, we’d beaten Spain, it was a big deal. Everyone was completely wasted and I didn’t remember much of the night until Leah had been on the dance floor with Jordan, Chloe, Millie, Rachel and some other teammates and one moment Leah is motioning for me to join me and the next Jordan is making out with her and I’m running out with Lucy following me. Then Lucy called Ale because I’d locked myself in our hotel room ensuite. Then Ale was there and she was comforting me and hugging me and I was pissed off at Leah and then I was kissing Ale and she was telling me no and the Leah walked in to comfort me and it was just a fucking mess of alcohol and emotions.

Just thinking about that night had hurt, I hadn’t let myself in the last month. Not when I’d been in Cabo drinking all day and night, clubbing and partying and spending all of my spare time trying to push my emotions away. Then I’d gotten the call from Sarina, I’d been expecting it but it had still shocked me for some reason. In a matter of 24 hours I’d been packing up all my shit and hopping on a plane back to the one place that I couldn’t have been more desperate to avoid. I’d contemplated turning down the call up, but a call from my agent had told me that I couldn’t expect an invite back if I turned one down now. The Olympics was a big deal as well, it was something that I did want to do but the overwhelming anxiety I had felt being faced with the reality that I was walking into a group of people that worshipped the ground that my ex girlfriend walked on.

My thought pattern was interrupted by the sound of knocking directly above my head. The sound pulsated against the wood and across my body, seeping deep into my bones. It was a resounding knock, loud, echoing across the room.

“Y/n, open up.”

It was the voice that I least wanted to hear at that moment and I tried my hardest to ignore it but the sound of the knocking repeating made it harder.

“Y/n/n, c’mon, open the door, I know you're in there.”

It was the nickname that only she called me, a nickname I hadn’t heard in a month and it hurt my soul hearing it. It made fresher tears fall from my eyes that I rubbed at furiously with the sleeve of my jumper. I wiped as much of the smudged mascara and tears from my face, I knew subconsciously that my eyes were red and puffy and Leah would one hundred percent be able to tell. For my dignity though I rubbed it all from my face before standing up and opened the door.

Before I could say anything Leah had slipped past me and into the room, making herself at home and sitting down on Keira’s bed, resting herself at the very top so she was leaning against the headboard. I pushed down any thoughts that I had about Leah being in the same position in our own bed, except with a lot less clothes covering her body.

“You’ve been crying.”

It wasn’t a question, a statement, but it held a question in it somewhere. Leah wasn’t used to me crying, so the fact that I was crying was probably a little bit of a shock to her.

“What do you want?”

Leah pouted at me, sarcastically, it pissed me off how confident she was when I felt like I was tearing at the seams.

“In case you didn’t remember, we’re roomies now. I wanted to talk, I think we both have stuff we need to get off of our chests. I love you y/n/n and I’m worried about you.”

“Go worry about Jordan.”

I was leaning against the dresser, trying my hardest to keep my shit together in front of the woman that was making me feel so many things that I had been denying myself for a month.

“That’s fair, but also not necessary. I didn’t kiss her y/n, I didn’t even get as close as a metre’s distance from her, anyone there could tell you that. I pushed her off me. So yes, she kissed me, without my consent or my desire for her to do so. I love you, not her. I promise you that. She means nothing to me beyond being my friend, I don’t love her.”

I didn’t really know what to say. Leah wasn’t really the root of my anger, because I knew that it had been Jordan all over Leah, and at the end of the day she’d come to my room that night to apologise instead of going back to Jordan’s, I was her priority.

“She loves you, and I can’t do anything about that. That hurts and I know that it shouldn’t, I have no right to be jealous but it hurts.”

Leah looked contemplatively at me, like she was trying to understand what I was saying but knew that she couldn’t really.

“Do you love Alexia?”

I gulped, that was a fucked up question that I didn’t have a answer for. My immediate silence gave enough context to that.

“That’s not a fair question.”

I was deflecting and also furiously toying with a loose thread on the edge of my jumper.

“I think I deserve to know if the woman I love loves me the same way.”

It was hard hearing those words come out of her mouth as well.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t love her. I dated her for six years, I thought I was going to marry her. I don’t love her like I loved you. We broke up because we couldn’t love each other that way. It was a surface relationship, but we both knew at the end of the day that we couldn’t get married or have kids or get old together, we didn’t love each other like that. We didn’t have a messy break up, I didn’t have a phase where I hated her and I wanted nothing more than to be away from her. We just stopped physically loving each other. She’s still my person Leah, you know that. I regret kissing her, I was so drunk and I was so fucking upset and she was so familiar to me in that moment. So maybe I do love her, in some fucked up way, but I don’t love her long term. She’s not the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life loving, not the person that I want to wake up next to, not the person that I want to write vows for, not the person that I want to be with every minute of every day. I don’t yearn for her.”

I realised now that there were tears in Leah’s eyes, which shocked me a little. Leah never cried, I could count the amount of times I’d seen her properly sob on one hand. Four times. When we won the Euros, when she did her ACL, when she woke up from ACL surgery and that night when it had all happened. Apart from that she was a brick wall, she wore a facade everyday, that very little people got to see broken down. I considered myself very grateful to have been able to see past it, to see the side of Leah that not a lot did. She’d let a stray tear go every once in a while, but proper crying, proper emotional, vulnerable crying was very rare to see.

“Do you love me long term?”

“Leah, that's not a fair question either.”

Tears were running down Leah’s face, similar to the tears that had been falling down my face less than five minutes ago.

“It's not fair? I’ve been here for the last month y/n, wondering if we still stand a chance. Wondering if you still love me, wondering if I should wait around for you? I want to know if you still love me as much as I love you.”

I could feel more tears coming to my eyes, Leah was sitting not even three metres away from me and yet it felt like we were oceans apart.

“I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

Leah was wiping at her face, she detested vulnerability and it was clear in her actions.

“Does it matter? Y/n/n, I am trying to figure out if I am going to spend the rest of my life fucking mourning losing the love of my life. I want to know if I stand a chance, if there is something here that we can salvage, something here that we can try and fix. I will spend everyday making it up to you if I have to, anything you need us to do I am down to do it.”

I shifted from toe to toe in my spot standing, Leah’s words were so genuine, they had so much power over me, sent shivers down my whole body.

“I love you. I love you enough though to tell you that I’m a fucking wreck, some of it’s because of this, some of it is just me. Leah I’m trying to fucking sort myself out now and I love you but I’m not going to tell you that your my priority right now, I love you but I also am trying to learn how to love myself and I’m also trying to learn how to love my sport again.”

Leah pursed her lips, wiping the last of her emotional admission tears from her face. She looked so raw, her blonde hair was thrown up in a messy high bun, an unusual look for her, her face was stripped bare of any makeup and her jumper looked a tad bit too big on her. She looked stripped, stripped of her dignity, stripped of her facade, stripped of everything that made her Leah motherfucking Williamson. I wasn’t looking at England’s captain, I wasn’t looking at Arsenal and England’s world class defenders. I was looking at just Leah. The Leah who would wake me up with forehead kisses every morning, the Leah who would give me foot massages after a rough training, the Leah who would only look at me in a room full of people.

“I’ve worried about you so much that I started to get scared I was praying. You took off and I didn’t know with who or where. I mean I know that I fucked up but y/n/n, we could have talked it out, or we could have tried to. You fled and you didn’t even give me a goodbye. I didn’t know if we were done or if I was ever going to see you again and it fucking broke me. I stayed in bed for a week, I didn’t eat, I didn’t leave. Keira and Lucy literally had to drag me out of bed to get me to do anything. I cried, non stop for a week, it was horrible and I felt like shit. Then Lucy got Alexia to come over and we talked it out and she told me that she didn’t mean for it to happen and all she wanted was for us to be happy and it broke me because how am I supposed to be happy when the woman I love is nowhere to be seen.”

A sob echoed from her chest and it broke my heart, because I hated seeing Leah in pain, I hated seeing her hurt. When she’d done her ACL it had been the most gut wrenching thing I’d had to witness. The only difference was that now I was the source of pain and it hurt ten times more.

I pushed myself off of the dresser and towards the bed. Leah’s head was buried in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees as her palms rubbed furiously at her eyes. I sat down onto the bed and pushed myself up against the headboard beside her, putting one of my arms down on her shoulders and gently nudging her head into my neck. It was uncharted territory but also felt so familiar and right. Hearing Leah’s sobs hurt my soul, but my contact seemed to calm her a little bit. She flinched away initially, unsure but then she was seeking it out, leaving into me and everything about it felt right.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for what happened with Jordan, I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel loved, I’m sorry if I didn’t treat you well enough, I’m sorry if I’m not good enough. I’m trying to work on it, I’m trying to be better,” I stopped Leah before she could say much more.

“It’s not your fault Leah,” My voice came out with exasperation, because I hated that Leah felt that way,

“You made me feel loved everyday, you treated me perfectly. You are perfect Leah, you were a perfect girlfriend, a perfect captain, a perfect person. We had our moments but you are a good person, you don’t need to be better. I’m the one who can’t fucking handle herself, who had to flee the country when it got rough and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that I ran when it got hard.”

Hearing Leah hiccup on her breath was so painful for me, painful enough that I reached my hand down to her face to try and wipe some of the tears off of her cheeks.

“C’mon, you're too pretty to be crying.”

It was a weak compliment that died with the mood of the room, Leah let out a depressing laugh that honestly just made it all worse but her sobs did quieten down a little bit and I noticed that the tremors that were haunting her whole body had slowed down and had become less of a repetitive pattern.

“You haven’t been eating, you lost two stones, did I do that to you?”

Leah’s voice was so shaky, so insanely innate for her.

“Me not eating has nothing to do with you and I won’t have you taking the blame for it. Not everything is your fault Leah and you don’t have to take the blame for it all. I know how your brain works, that you are going to take the blame for everything that has happened between us, but it’s not your fault, a lot of it is mine, my eating habits though have nothing to do with you.”

My voice was a mixture of steady and stern, I had a point to get across and I needed Leah to understand that, I needed her to know that. She wasn’t as fearless and brave as she constantly tried to prove to anyone, she was always the first to blame herself for anything, always getting down on herself and I knew that, I knew that Leah could send herself into a downward spiral.

She pulled her head out of my shoulder and locked eyes with me, her dark brown eyes felt like they were violating me, I felt like I was naked under her gaze, like I was so incredibly vulnerable.

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

I felt like I was under a magnifying glass, like Leah could see every single part of me and could see into my brain. She always worried about me, always. To the point where sometimes it was concerning, I had as much as a sniffle and she was doting over me like my mother.

“I’m fine Lee.”

“If you were fine you wouldn’t have lost two stones.”

She could read me too easily and she knew that I was pretty much putty in her hands as soon as she started talking.

“It got dark for me when I left, I needed to leave but then I was gone and I realised that I was so alone and I was partying to try and avoid my feelings and it worked but you know how I am when I’m depressed, I stop eating, I stop functioning. I lived off of alcohol for three weeks and then I got the call from Sarina and for the first time in three weeks I was completely sober and it hit me like a freight train. I realised how bad it had gotten and I was in shambles.”

Leah nodded at me, she knew how I worked, knew that when I was starting to spiral I tended to push it all down until it got so bad that I had a nervous breakdown.

“You need to eat, we need you playing, I need you on the field. It broke my heart when Sarina came and told me, when she asked me if I’d seen any of the warning signs or if I’d noticed and I couldn’t give her an answer.”

I brought my hand back up to rest on Leah’s face, she was still shaking, still hiccuping with every word that she said. I pushed the tears that were pooling on her face away with the pad of my thumb.

“I couldn’t even tell her anything.”

Leah’s words were thrown out between choken sobs and hiccups, it was so strung out and painful that I felt it in my chest.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, I’m sorry I deserted you. I’m so sorry I hurt you Lee, you deserve better, you deserve someone who has their shit together.”

Leah pulled herself out from beside me and scooted herself so she was sitting in front of me, between my legs looking at me directly.

“I want you though, I want to love you and I want you to let me.”

I couldn’t do much more than look at her, look at her eyes, look at how heartbroken they were. They were full of so much pain, so many sleepless nights and a part of me wanted to fix some of that.

“Let us be happy, let all of this devastation come to an end and just let us be happy. We’ll work through what happened, we can try therapy, or something else. I want you though y/n/n, I want you forever and I don’t want us to give up on that because of some stupid shit that happened when we were drunk.”

Those fucking eyes, they held the sun and the moon, they had the power to make me do anything.

“I want to try, for us. I still think that you are my forever Leah. I just don’t want either of us to get hurt in the process.”

“Love hurts, we work through it. Please just try it for me.”

Her lip was wobbling in between her teeth and it took every single piece of self control I had to not take that lip in my own and just kiss the woman like I wanted to.

“Okay.”

Leah’s face lit up almost immediately, like a kid in a candy store. She leant in towards me, her lips hovering centimetres away from my own and her eyes looking into my own and it took literally every piece of my self control not to initiate anything.

“Is this okay?”

Leah’s voice was calmer this time, less rough on the edges, less broken. I nodded eagerly at her and relaxed into her body as she pressed her lips to mine. It was soft, tender, relaxing, so perfect.

“How about this?”

It was murmured against my lips, a small smirk forming along Leah’s lips.

“So good, but I think we are both overdue for some sleep.”

Leah frowned against my lips but nodded, we were both tired and it was obvious in our actions. She plopped herself down next to me, relaxing into my body and laying her head against my chest.

“Flick the lamp of love.”

The term of endearment sent a shiver down my back, it was so normal and yet so shocking to me. I obeyed her immediately, turning over to the bedside lamp and flicking it off so we were left in the dark. I shrugged my jacket off before relaxing down into the pillow. Leah shifted around for a few seconds, finding a comfortable spot on my body before stilling herself. She looked so small curled up against me, I tugged her hair out of its bun and rubbed her roots just the way I knew she liked me too and rubbed her back the way I knew sent her straight to sleep. It probably took not even a minute before Leah’s body relaxed fully and her breaths evened out and when they did I smiled a little bit looking at her exhausted form. I leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before relaxing myself fully against the pillows and preparing myself for my own sleep.

“I love you Leah, always.”

#woso #leah williamson #lionesses #marry me rn #arsenal wfc #woso community #leah williamson x reader #sarina wiegman #lucy bronze #kiera walsh #angst #rip my mental health

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 7 months

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You Love Bread!

Chapter 8

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You wake up from your fainting spell to a group of very concerned dwarves. Thorin in particular would like some answers, and might just have a few ideas up his sleeve to solve your problem...

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, NSFW, 18+, Minors do not interact, smut, implied eating disorder/starvation

author's note: This chapter ended up being sooo much longer than I anticipated, so I had to break it up into 2 parts. Don't hate me for where I choose to leave this one off😅

Word count: 2121

Someone is pressing a cold cloth to your forehead when you slowly start to drift back into consciousness. You groan as you start to regain feeling in your fingers and toes again.

It takes a moment for the memory of what happened to flood back in and your breath hitches in a jolt of panic as your eyes snap open and you scramble to get back to your feet.

“Woah, easy there lass,” Fili’s voice comes from behind you and he removes the cloth from your face to place a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you from getting back up just yet.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, shaking him off.

“No you’re not,” Kili chuckles from your side. “You swooned into Thorin’s arms like some kind of damsel in distress. You need to take it slow.”

The brothers both bring a hand to your back, gently helping you to sit up further. Fili hands the cool cloth over to you and you sigh in relief as you slide it along your neck and chest.

Ironically you feel a lot better than you did before you passed out. A gentle breeze blows through your hair, and looking around you can see you are no longer in the same place you were when you lost consciousness.

Someone has carried you off the path to lie in a patch of grass alongside a small lake. The rest of the company must be waiting nearby as you can hear their booming voices through the trees and can smell the smoke of a campfire and food cooking over the flames. You feel something soft beneath you and look down to find yourself laying on a fur cloak. Thorin’s cloak.

You look around to try and find him. Farther down the lake you see him conversing with Oin and Bombur. They speak in hushed tones but judging by the troubled looks on their faces it’s safe to assume they’re talking about you.

“She’s awake, uncle,” Kili calls from behind you and Thorin’s head snaps to look over at you. He says something to Oin and they both hurry over to you.

“Welcome back, lassie,” Oin says, “you gave us quite a fright.”

“You need to eat something,” Thorin says, signaling to Bombur to bring you some food.

“I’m not hungry,” you tell him, “I just got too hot is all.”

“That wasn’t just heat stroke,” Oin replies with concern, “you’re still very pale and Thorin says you’ve been weak and disoriented all day.”

Of course, he did. You look over at him with a glare.

“Well then he would be mistaken, I’m perfectly fine.” you lie.

Bombur finally returns and approaches you with a bowl of soup and some bread but you shake your head, waving him off.

“I’m not hungry,” you tell them again, “I’m ready to get back on the road I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“We’re not going anywhere. The others have already started making camp here for the evening, we’ll start up again in the morning,” Thorin insists. He takes the bread from Bombur and shoos him away with the rest.

“But Durin’s day-” you protest, knowing your deadline is fast approaching.

“We can afford to wait a little longer, we already covered enough ground today. Here,” he replies, offering you the bread, “just eat some of this.”

You push his hand away with another shake of your head. You can keep going you know you can. You’ve put a good amount of distance between you and the orcs already; you won’t jeopardize that now.

“In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never once seen you refuse bread,” Kili comments with a nervous chuckle.

“You love bread,” Fili agrees.

You pay them no mind, keeping your eyes locked on Thorin’s as he thoughtfully examines your face. He’s given you no indication yet that he knows your real motives. How could he?

“Leave us,” he instructs the others, still looking at you.

They all hurry off towards camp without protest.

Fili hands the damp cloth over to his uncle and gives you another worried look before joining the others.

Thorin is still looking at you in silence. Your anxiety gets the better of you and you pull your gaze away to look down at the ground, trying to feign innocence.

He still says nothing.

Does he expect you to speak first? Perhaps he’s hoping that if he waits long enough you’ll divulge everything to him on your own.

That’s not going to happen, you laugh to yourself.

He rises to his feet with a sigh, but you still refuse to look at him as he makes his way over to the nearby lake. You hear him dip the cloth back into the water and wring it out before coming to sit in front of you.

He brings two fingers up to your chin, and gently turns your face to look at him. You’re too exhausted to fight him.

His hand slides down to your neck, gently tipping your head back so he can see you better. You refuse to let your eyes meet his, instead electing to look over his shoulder at the light reflecting off the lake.

You shudder as he brings the cool cloth up to your face, tracing a slow line from your temple all the way down to your jaw.

“Bombur says he hasn’t seen you eat anything since Rivendell. No one has,” Thorin’s voice is gentle and cautious. Not at all what you were expecting.

You finally meet his eyes to see they are not angry as you were expecting. Instead, they’re full of fear. You can’t remember the last time you saw this side of Thorin, if ever.

The cloth makes its way down the column of your neck, inching its way closer and closer towards the top of your breasts. You hate how much you ache for him to touch you there again.

Maybe it’s your desire or his rare show of vulnerability but you can’t help the words that escape your lips.

“Orcs can smell blood,” you whisper.

The cloth freezes just above your collarbone and he looks at you in confusion.

“I’m due to start my monthly cycle in the next few days,” you clarify and can see as the last pieces of the mental puzzle fall into place.

His brow furrows and his hand drops away from your chest.

“You heard what Lord Elrond said. If we are being hunted by Orcs I didn’t want to lead them right to us. I figured if I stopped eating for a while the bleeding wouldn’t start and it would buy us more time to get them off our backs.”

You bite your bottom lip, waiting anxiously for the lecture to begin. For him to yell and shout and tell you how reckless you were, or even worse to send you away from the company until you’re no longer a liability.

But he doesn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “why didn’t I tell you I was about to start menstruating while we’re being hunted by a pack of orcs?”

“Did you think I’d be angry with you?” he scoffs, “over something you can’t control?”

“No, Thorin,” you snap, “I thought you’d send me away. Again!”

He blinks at you in surprise.

“If me being here puts everyone else in jeopardy, if it puts our quest in jeopardy, then that makes me a liability and it is your duty as king to send me away.”

“Don’t you dare try to tell me what my duty is,” his voice drops into a low growl and his fists begin to clench sending drops of water running down his knuckles from the cloth still in his hand.

“Quest or no quest I am also responsible for the well-being of my people which includes you in case you’ve forgotten. I will not allow you to do something so reckless and idiotic! How can you expect me to successfully lead this company to Erebor if you’re starving yourself while my back is turned? If you had told me earlier we could have found a better solution that didn’t cause you to faint in the middle of the road!”

“You mean if I had told you earlier, you could have left me behind in Rivendell instead of slowing the company down?” you snap back as he moves his face closer to yours. You can see the angry clench of his jaw, and the furrowed lines of his brow that seem to be a permanent facial feature on him.

“I would have thought you’d prefer the company of elves over that of your kin, you certainly seemed to enjoy Lord Elrond’s the other night-”

You still feel weak from hunger but somehow the rage his words inspire gathers up enough strength for you to roughly shove him away from you. He barely budges and you lift your arms to shove him again, but this time he catches you, grabbing you by the wrists keeping you firmly in place. He pulls you closer into his chest until you’re almost nose to nose.

“You will stay here with us and you will do so with a full belly. I need you to keep your strength up for the journey ahead and the orcs pursuing us. And I swear to you,” he says with a growl, “ If I ever hear about you trying to starve yourself again, I will personally shove every last crumb down your throat. Do I make myself clear?”

“Oh I have no doubt you’ve been dying to shove something down my throat,” you purr with a wicked grin, “which is why I don’t intend to give you the satisfaction, your grace.”

His grip on your wrists tightens.

“We’ll see about that,” he growls, letting go of your wrists. Before you can even blink his hands are grabbing your face, pulling your lips into his in an angry, passionate kiss.

You know you should resist him, or at least pretend like you don’t want him as badly as he clearly wants you. But seeing as you are quite literally starving, and he tastes absolutely amazing…

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull him closer to you. You groan in pleasure as his tongue sneaks past your lips forcing himself deeper inside your mouth. His hands leave your face and travel down your body to cup your ass firmly, pulling you into his lap.

You can feel his arousal through his trousers, stabbing your upper thigh, so close to where you want him but not quite close enough.

He drags his teeth along your bottom lip before starting to kiss a slow path along your jawline and down your neck, biting at your flesh as he travels further and further down.

You free a hand from his hair and reach it down between the two of you. You press your palm against his length and he growls into your neck. You want to tease him, to drive him to the edge of insanity until he is completely addicted to you. But not as badly as you want to feel him, all of him. You bring your other hand down to help unfasten his pants but before you can succeed he suddenly has you on your back beneath him, wrists held firmly overhead.

You growl and squirm trying to free yourself but you both know you’re not exactly at fighting strength at the moment. You are completely at his mercy and you can’t stand it.

“Please,” you whine, trying helplessly to press your body up to meet his again but he refuses to budge. “I need it,” you complain.

“Oh, I know exactly what you need,” he whispers, his beard tickling your face. He releases just one of his hands, moving your free wrist to join the other and your breath hitches in anticipation, hoping that hand is about to touch you in all the places that ache for him.

You open your mouth to beg for just that when something soft is suddenly stuffed into your mouth.

You blink at him in confusion before your taste buds can identify the unexpected guest.

Bread!

“You’re going to eat every last crumb,” he demands, “and when you’re done with that you’ll have more. I’m going to stay here and watch you eat every last bite, then and only then, will you get your other needs fulfilled. Do you understand?”

You nod eagerly, unable to speak around the roll he shoved in your mouth.

His breath his hot against your cheek as he brings his lips closer towards your ear.

“Good girl,” he growls

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

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Celebrating Roman Roy’s Birthday Would Include...

Request: OOOOOH i have one if you don't mind. how about hcs for celebrating roman's birthday? cause as we know when it comes to roys there's inevitably Something Traumatic happening on every holiday, i just want him to have a good day with someone who loves him🥺

Love honestly so true he deserves someone to just love him without condition :( I am FEELING

Warning: strong language, implied eating disorder and mentions of childhood mental/physical abuse!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @bettercallgerri.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Roman Roy decided very early on the day to make an incredibly sensible decision. For the next twenty three and a half hours, he was going to ignore his phone every time it started vibrating in his jacket pocket, and irritated the skin against his breast. He was going to squeeze his eyes shut, and pick at his fingernails when at one in the afternoon, on the dot, his sister would send exactly the same generic fruit basket for his birthday as she did the previous year. He would crinkle his nose in irritation when the eldest Roy sent him a comic voicemail about how ‘he was still that little pup that threw a fish at him’ during their camping trip, despite his age.

And worst of all, and perhaps the most difficult for Roman Roy, he wasn’t going to feel depressed once about how his father had forgotten his birthday again. Well, not until he received the stereotypical rushed job of a blank card and sloppy signature of his father typed at the bottom the next day, sent as if he were signing a cheque. He wrote it off as being just another transaction: signing away all the love he owed Roman, justifying it as the price one has to pay for success. Only then would Roman allow himself to excuse off to the bathroom for a moment, before curling up into a ball and crying into his knees as he had done for every birthday he could remember.

He just wanted to spend one day: one single, solitary, sought after, scorned day to spend with the one person in his life he had always loved without hesitation. With the only person who truly saw him. Who loved him for who he was right now, and who, you knew, he should be. So, he decided the rest of his family could go fuck themselves for a meagre twenty four hours, while he made the most of snuggling up to you in bed.

Roman’s always been a naturally restive man at heart, and so it wasn’t long until that little goblin smirk of his came peering past the duvet and over your shoulder.

‘You know what?’, he murmured, resting his elbow by his head so he could turn and lie facing you properly. ‘Fuck it. We should just, I don’t fucking know, stay here all day until we have become one with the comforter.’

‘As lovely as that sounds’, you stretch up and groan, slapping Roman’s hand away as he reaches up to tickle under your armpit. ‘I have plans, I’m afraid.’

‘You- fucking- what? You have plans, are you fucking me right now?’ For a second he jumps up, his eyes squinting as he stares at you crestfallen. But then he sees the smile you’re trying to hide twitch at the corner of your lips, and he falls back down onto the mattress unceremoniously. While he reaches around and tries to thump you in the face with his pillow, you take the opportunity to wrestle his arm and loop it around your own. He gladly gives in, settling down next to you again as you continue: ‘I may have plans, but you’re very welcome to join in with them. If you’re nice to me, that is.’

‘I’m always fucking nice to you’, Roman mutters, but he reaches up to accept the kiss you’re trying to place on the side of his stubble. ‘Good’, you turn back to look at the alarm clock on your bedside table, ‘because we have to be up and out in approximately fifteen minutes.’

‘You are full of fucking surprises, you know that? God, I love you.’

Ever since you and Roman were seven years old, and his father had hit him for the first time after sneaking you up the side of his bedroom window for a sleepover his father had strictly forbidden, as he deemed Roman getting up bright and early for his fencing lessons the next morning to be far more important, you had kept a list in your head of all the mundane things Roman had been punished for as a child. Every birthday since then, you tried to strike one off the list, and this year you had decided to plan ahead, and asked Karolina to hire out a park for you a couple of states away for a water fight.

It was silly, and stupid, and childish, but when Roman sauntered into the kitchen after his shower and saw you trying to shove pretty hefty super soakers into your backpack, his face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. Hence the two of you flying off in your own private helicopter, trying to place a little wriggle room between Roman and the rest of the Roys; you felt almost ridiculous for a moment, whizzing past buildings and waving treelines with only a couple of water guns on you, but Roman was gripping onto your fingers so tightly the whole journey that the embarrassment flooded away. The whole time, his foot was tapping against the edge of yours like a wasp’s sting, his bottom lip nearly bloody from how hard he was chewing it. Whether it was from anticipation, or whether he had the foresight to anticipate the abuse he was going to garner from his father for the wasted journey and tabloid pictures you didn’t know. You held his hand back just as tightly, praying for him to have just one happy day.

Thankfully, once you arrived, Roman literally leapt out of the helicopter like some kind of Doberman. He shrugged off his coat and threw it back into the cabin, before rustling in the bag to grab his loot. Before you could even question what he was doing, a chilled gust of water came splatting you straight up the face, and hurtling you backwards. Let’s just say, Roman’s high pitched hyena laugh was heard all around the fringes of the daisy-strewn field, as he went skidding across the blades like a wanted criminal.

Sometimes, you would hold your hands up as if in defeat, and he would come strutting over to you with his gun in the air and one hand on his waist. Stating that you had run out of water, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face as he came and tried to pull your hands behind your back. He walked you both backwards until you were pinned against the tree, and although he’s doing his best to look all sexy, and mysterious, and sheriff like as he tries to unlatch your fingers slowly from the triggers, it was a huge mistake. Using the distraction, you pull his own gun from him and pull his shirt forward, spraying water straight down his bare chest.

‘Oh, you fucker!’

If anyone could see the two of you: sprinting about like children in the mud, not caring as bits of wet dirt skidded up and stained your suit shirts. Parading through the flowers, laughter pealing like bells wherever you went. They would think you were free, and perhaps, for a moment, you both were.

At one point Roman comes swinging down from an oak tree and scares the living absolute fuck out of you. For a second he looks afraid: that remnant of his father’s ‘love’ making him feel sick to his stomach, but that is quickly alleviated when you come over and trace down the slight stubble of his neck. Your pointer finger comes to trace up his chin, and then over the top of his lip, before you lean up and gently melt your lips against his awaiting ones.

The two of you decide (once you’ve managed to unlatch spider monkey from you) to swing your legs up over the tree branch and sit up there for a while, like you used to do when you were teenagers sickly sweet in a hidden, reciprocated love. Back in the days when Roman would carry himself, wounded and crying, to trudge around his father’s estate and find wherever your newest hidie-hole from the world was. It didn’t matter if it was underneath one of the neighbouring orchard trees, or out sitting on a lounge chair on his bedroom balcony, or tucked up inside one of the pool sheds, hidden between unused surfboards and half-chewed pool noodles, Roman had a sixth sense when it came to finding you. You, too, always knew he was coming: mainly from the sound of impeding sniffles, and you had your arm out and ready for him to come curl up into. Against his side, he would crest himself like the fallen son, trying to make himself as small a target as possible against your chest.

Sometimes you would tuck a book out from your bag and read to him. Other times, the two of you would just chatter like soft sunlight amidst the dark blots of his father’s pristine possessions. Most of all, Roman would usually fall into an uneasy sleep against your neck, and would only rise again once the irritated call of his newest nanny rang out from the veranda.

It had taken him a while to realise he could feel safe in your arms, rather than just hide away, but when he did, he would rest his head on your shoulder and wish he could stay alone with you forever.

So he was more than delighted to re-enact his favourite parts of his childhood with you, even if he can’t fully settle his whole heart into it. You try your best to seem as nonchalant as ever: leaning your head back until it scratches on the bark, swinging one leg over until it catches the sharp gleam of the cresting mid-afternoon sun. Roman’s hunched over, sitting in between your legs, and although he’s being set alight with some kind of giddiness that he can freely be with you now without having to hide, his body’s response is still set to flight or fight. His fingers dance over your legs like a skimming dragonfly, running over the inseams before landing on your ankles and squeezing.

Becoming over alert of how his eyes keep darting away from you, as if he’s still awaiting the strike he knows is punishment for daring to show love towards anyone, you reach out for him. After an awkward moment of manoeuvring, the two of you manage to reach an agreement on how to sit: you still leaning back, and Roman now lying against your chest, with his legs straight out against the skittish twigs. He looks ethereal against the soft rolls of honey that seemed to drape around the two of you, the crimson burnt fringes of the leaves protecting him from the outside world. And yet Roman still jumps when he feels your fingers brush against the edge of his face, as if you had been trying to burn him.

It’s taken time. It takes time. It will take time. But to you, using all the understanding and patience in the world would be worth it, if it allowed Roman Roy to live. So you just hold him around the waist, and wait for him to become comfortable. You whisper quotes from your favourite books into his ears, and the sky slowly begins to roll over with lavender and a deep blushing maroon, you tell him about the new memes online from Connor’s campaign. He snorts at that, almost twitching awake in your grasp, but you appreciate the way he tries by leaning backwards and languidly blinking, pressing a brushing kiss against your bottom lip.

Before the two of you return home, he decides he wants to see how ‘the peasants live’ by eating in a normal restaurant. Although he shudders at your implication that he’s turning into Cousin Greg, it ends up being one of the happiest dining experiences of his life. Roman had always had a difficult relationship with food: between his mother’s teasing about his looks at the dining table when he was a toddler, to his father smacking him for bad table manners, to every adult dinner party revolving around sub-plots and back-stabbing, he’d found it all difficult to swallow. Being with you, thankfully, made the experience a little easier.

He even found himself laughing when the sushi you had tried to feed him with your chopsticks came flopping down onto the table in a mushed heap of rice and wasabi, and the joy didn’t leave his face as you came up to cradle his face and wipe bits of salmon away from the lines of his lips. The whole time, he was incredibly aware of how carelessly he allowed his knee to rest against your own; he was conscious of how other customers might notice the way he held your hand over the bar stools between courses, but for the first time in his life, he allowed himself the freedom not to care.

One of the waitresses makes a comment about how sweet the two of you look together on the way out, and oh my god does Roman ride that high the whole way back to the park. Cue him being a full peachy, blubbering, hyper mess, with giggles only a dog could hear slipping out of his mouth every ten metres down the pavements.

You give him his present when you get home: you’d collated over the last couple of months some of your favourite pictures, both of you and Roman over the years, as well as full family shots. You had asked Connor, Kendall and Shiv to add some of their favourite memories in the margins of the shots, until the black and white photobook was bursting with neatly looped letters and little drawings of dicks (kindly added by Ken.)

Roman chokes when he sees it. He fists his hand into his mouth, shrugging as his eyes widen, brimming with tears as he flips through the pages. He starts getting over hyper, repeating over and over and over again that ‘yeah, yeah- it’s nice, I like it’, because he thinks it’s some kind of trick. Because he can’t handle the thought of his siblings loving him without some sort of condition. Because just one kind word it’s what he’s been seeking from them his whole life, and your eyes widen in horror as you realise why he’s taking a step backwards. Why his bottom lip is jutting out. Why he looks like a noose is tightening around his neck. You glance down, and you can see it in all the pictures: in every frame, his siblings are looking dead-on, deadpan into the camera, and he’s glancing up at them. In the pictures with you, he’s clearly choking down the love that’s bursting out of his every being as he gazes at you in every. single. one.

It guts you to realise it’s taking you so long to reciprocate just a little of that love that’s been suffocating him his whole life.

He regresses into Logan Roy mode, and it breaks your heart all the more; he wanders over to the cabinet to pour a tumbler of whiskey for the two of you, before settling himself down on the edge of the settee. He pulls out his phone, getting prepared to come back to himself: to scroll through the news channel and chat with you about the events he’d missed while taking a few hours off for himself.

Yet he doesn’t complain when you tenderly take his hand, choosing instead not to let him wallow. You lead him over to one of the armchairs over looking the cityscape, pushing on his chest until he collapses down into it. With a content sigh, he watches you go choose a book from the collection you had curated by the television, before coming back to squeeze yourself in beside him. He’s half sitting on your lap, but neither of you really give a stuff as he winds his arms around your neck and settles against your heartbeat. With his head on your collar bone, and your finger mindlessly drawing patterns in the tufts of hair behind his ear, you begin to read aloud to him. From time to time you peer behind the spine and catch his eye, and it makes you fumble over your words a little when you spot him. He’s gazing up at you as if you were perfection incarnate, and for the first time in his sorrowful life, Roman Roy begins his next year on this planet with one hopeful thought smacking around the inside of his head: perhaps this year, he won’t have to suffer just for being Roman.

#succession #succession imagine #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy headcanons #kieran culkin #x reader #succession fanfic #succession fanfiction #kendall roy #shiv roy #logan roy #connor roy

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 3 months

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Until you come back home pt.2

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n received a letter from Bucky, but it was enough to push her into madness...

Warning: Obsessive love disorder/ mental institution/ electric shock/ freezing bath/ 1940s asylum treatments/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.9k

When Harry Crosby came in her room with his letter, she couldn’t believe it. She was going crazy without him. Harry had to argue with the Colonel that she was still sane and still able to do her work, even though it was a lie. She snatched the envelope from his hands and quickly opened it. ‘’Told you he wasn’t dead, Croz, I was right’’ she said, smiling.

My darling Y/n,

I hope you’re doing well; I’ve read every single letter you sent to me. I miss you like crazy, say thank you to Crosby for me, I know he’s taking good care of you, and I’m grateful for it. I’m going crazy too, you know, I miss you so much. I miss everything about you, the conditions are awful here; we only eat potatoes and the other day, we have to kill a cat to eat its meat. It was disgusting, the mattress is so uncomfortable, my back hurts, and I can’t sleep well without you. On a good note, Buck is alive, and he’s here at this camp. That helps a little, but I’m still going crazy. I’m going to try and come back to you, in the meantime, I’ve sent you my necklace, it’s in the envelope, it’s not much but I hope it helps you. I think about you all the time, I’ve started to do the same thing as you, calling your name, until I come back home. I’m driving the guys crazy, but I don’t care. It keeps me sane. We have to keep hoping, I feel that we’re going to see each other again, and when we do, we’re going to get married, and we’re going to live together. I love you, my darling, so much it drives me crazy. Until I come back home; Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…

She hugged the letter before showing it to Crosby. Something in her eyes wasn’t right, something changed. The last bit of her sanity evaporated with the letter, she opened the envelope, taking the necklace and putting it around her neck. ‘’We’re going to get married, Croz’’ she giggled maniacally. ‘’Y/n are you okay?’’ he asked, very concerned with his best friend’s attitude. ‘’Bucky, Bucky, Bucky’’ she kept calling his name, over and over again. ‘’You’re scaring me! Are you okay?’’ he raised his voice. ‘’Never better, Croz’’ she smiled. It pained him, but he had to place her somewhere, she didn’t look okay, and frankly, Crosby was afraid that she would hurt herself, and others. So that night, he went to talk to Colonel Harding, and then, went to his desk, to write a letter.

When Bucky saw that the letter he got was not from Y/n, he was confused. When he saw that it was from Harry Crosby, he was worried. He quickly opened the envelope to see why his girlfriend wasn’t writing to him.

Hello Bucky,

Sorry for not being Y/n. I appreciate your kind words in her letters, I tried to look after her in the best way possible, but after your letter, she’s gone mad. And I don’t mean it lightly, I was afraid for her security, I thought she was going to hurt herself and others on the base. That’s why Colonel and I found it better to send her away, where she can get the help she needs. I wasn’t happy doing it, I felt really bad, but trust me, she needed it. The psychiatrist told me she has an obsessive love disorder. It is easy to cure, but it’s going to be hard. She will still be in love with you because I can tell she truly cares about you. The problem is she’s obsessed with you. She can’t live with the idea of you being dead or injured. She can have self-destructive behavior, so that’s why we decided to send her away. I visited her often. The first weeks were hard, but today marks the second month she’s been there, and I can tell she’s improving. I hope you’re okay, I’m going to try to keep you updated on her progress.

Harry Crosby

They put her into a mental institute. He couldn’t believe it, she wasn’t crazy, she was in love. Even if it made him angry, he understood why he did it. Bucky was just hoping that she was okay, and that they weren’t torturing her.

Electrical shock, that’s how they were ‘curing’ her, by electrocuting her. They also put her into an ice bath. But the doctor said she was getting better at first, she fought the guards, but by the time she did her fifth treatment, she grew tried of fighting them, so she stopped. Today was important for her, she was going to be evaluated by the psychiatrist and he was going to determine if she could get out of here, she needed to be on her best behavior. When guards came in her room, she was sat on her bed, ready to be escorted to his office. When she entered the room, she was nervous, her hands were shaking, and she felt like she was going to throw up. ‘’Hello Y/n, how are you today?’’ Dr. Phillips asked. She cleared her throat before speaking. ‘’Hi Dr. Phillips, I’m quite well, how are you?’’ she spoke nervously. He pressed his elbow in his desk, looking at his notes before responding. ‘’Good, thank you. So do you know why you’re here today?’’ she nodded and gulped. ‘’You’re going to tell me if I’m crazy or not’’ she whispered. Dr. Phillips laughed. ‘’Oh, Y/n, you’re not crazy, who told you that?’’ he laughed. He did, multiple times as he gave her shocks. ‘’Trevor did’’ she lied, Trevor was her only friend here, he was here because he could hear voices. Trevor claimed that he was blessed by the gods. ‘’Y/n, I’m the one that can say if you’re crazy or not, and from what I’m seeing in your file, you’re not crazy anymore’’ she shifted in her seat. She fixed her hair, looking at the ground. She couldn’t look at Dr. Phillips in the eyes, she was scared of him. ‘’Can I, uh, can I, g-g-get out?’’ she stuttered, whispering. She was afraid that he was going to give her an ice bath. ‘’Yes! That’s why I wanted to see you, I wanted to tell you the good news myself, your friend, Harry Crosby, is waiting for you in the lobby.’’ Dr. Phillips exclaimed.

His feet were bouncing on the ground, he couldn’t wait to see her. Harry Crosby got a call yesterday, saying that Y/n was going to be released. When the door opened, he saw her. She looked weak, fragile and tired, what the hell did they do to her. She was skinny, did they feed her? Her cheeks were hollow, and she had purple circles under her eyes. But when Y/n saw her best friend, she smiled, that was the first real smile she had in weeks. ‘’Crosby!’’ she exclaimed, walking towards him. ‘’Hey you! It’s so good to see you!’’ he exclaimed, trying not to show his concern in front of the doctor. ‘’She’s all good and ready to go home, take good care of her.’’ Dr. Phillips patted her back, but she flinched.

The second they were inside the Jeep, Harry drove far away from this place, he was going fast. ‘’Are you okay? What did they do to you?’’ he asked, concerned. Y/n turned to look at her friend. ‘’They cured me’’ she simply said. He sputtered. ‘’Do you still love him?’’ he asked, scared of her answer. ‘’I think so’’ her gaze was empty, it wasn’t normal, something was off.

Gale Cleven escaped, he managed to escape and now he was back on the base. He looked for Y/n, Bucky asked him to go check on her. He knew she had been in a mental institute, but when he saw her, getting out of Crosby’s Jeep, he felt sick. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew, who was this woman. She was walking towards him, smiling, but her eyes were numb. ‘’Gale! How are you?’’ she asked him, smiling. ‘’I’m good, Y/n, how are you, you look hungry’’ he stated, seeing how thin she was. ‘’I’m well, but I am hungry, can we go eat?’’ her tone was monotone, like a robot. It was like her brain was fried. ‘’I gotta go, please can you try to get information on what happened there’’ Harry whispered in Buck’s ear, he nodded as they both walked towards the cafeteria. Since it wasn’t the rush, the cafeteria wasn’t crowded.

She took a bite of the food and smiled. ‘’It’s good?’’ Buck asked. She nodded. ‘’Very, I only ate porridge and bread’’ she admitted, unknowingly. ‘’You look better, Y/n, what did they give you?’’ he asked, hiding his concerns. ‘’Stuff’’ she took another bite of her food. ‘’What kind of stuff?’’ he asked. She zoned out, she thought about the shocks and the freezing water on her skin, her eyes filled with tears. ‘’Baths and a painful treatment’’ she mumbled, but Gale understood every word.

When Bucky came back on the base, he couldn’t wait to see his girlfriend, but Harry Crosby stopped him. ‘’Bucky, wait, we have to tell you something’’ he grabbed his arm. ‘’What Cros?’’ he asked, annoyed that he couldn’t see his girl. He tilts his head to tell him to go into another room. The Colonel was leaning against the table, Gale was seated on a chair, Harry closed the door and offered Bucky a chair. ‘’Major, I would sit down if I were you’’ Colonel Harding ordered. Bucky was confused, what the hell was going on, where was his girlfriend. ‘’Where’s Y/n?’’ he asked. ‘’She’s in her room, but she’s different, Bucky. That place changed her’’ Buck started. ‘’How could they change her?’’ he chuckled nervously. ‘’I didn’t know what kind of treatment they were administering her, but she told Buck everything’’ Crosby started. Bucky looked at his friend, he had his head down. ‘’Electrical shock, ice baths, steam baths, they gave her shock, they almost fried her brain. They fed her porridge and bread; they wouldn’t let her sleep’’ he explained. John Egan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘’H-how’s that legal?’’ he exclaimed, nervously. ‘’But the problem is, the treatments worked, but we don’t know how she’ll react to you being there, Major’’ Harding explained.

Y/n was sitting on her bed, reading the letters she missed when she was away. She heard a knock, and she turned around. There he was Bucky was in front of her. She got up from the bed and smiled. ‘’You’re alive?’’ she choked up on emotions. ‘’I am, darling’’ he said, cautiously, not wanting to trigger anything. ‘’You’re real?’’ she asked. He nodded, she carefully walked up to him, she took his hand, she was making sure he was real. His hand was warm, and his skin was soft. Her eyes filled with happy tears as she looked at him. He gently put his hand on her cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. ‘’I love you so much’’ she breathed out, before hugging him. In his arms, every shock, every bath and every torture went away. He was back, she was hugging him, he was real. ‘’You came back home’’ she cried out. ‘’Told you I was coming back, darling’’ he softly whispered in her ear. ‘’Never leave me again.’’ She pleaded. ‘’Never, darling. Because I don’t wanna live forever if my life is not with you’’

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #gale buck cleven #harry crosby

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deansapplepie · 6 months

Text

Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 16

Chapter 15 Chapter 17

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 16: Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?

Summary: Winter is coming, food is scarce and everyone have their own dramas. Y/N can’t stay out of her family’s problems and Daryl have to take some measures at his own hands.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, family issues, emotional abandonment (?), food deprivation (no eating disorders related). Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 2,444

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love.

It was one more of those cold days, if it wasn’t winter already it was close and you had yet to find a place where all of you could be safe and warm during winter. You were all managing things, the group was starting to be on sync, people had stopped doubting Rick and you were glad about it, he could be a little out of his mind, but people should never doubt he was going to do what’s best for you.

Things were a little odd after everyone learned he killed Shane, and you had to admit that even with all his bullshit it hurt to know he was dead, but you’d rather have him dead than Rick again. You were shocked that Carl had to kill his walker self, but you knew that if he didn’t Rick and him wouldn’t be alive. You wish Lori had understood it before their marriage went to shit and that Rick would stop being so stubborn and not letting her close again.

You were never pregnant, but you knew how lonely it must be for a woman to not have her husband giving her attention, touching her belly or even just talking to the unborn baby. It pained you to see Lori and Rick hurting like that. You tried to help her the maximum, but you knew it wasn’t the same as if Rick was doing all of that. On top of that, you had to go from one to another telling what they wanted to tell each other, but wouldn’t because they weren’t talking.

Daryl had found some small fruits and distributed around the group, the hunt wasn’t good that day. You probably needed to move elsewhere. Not only because of the food, but because after a group of walkers surrounded the old house where you were at, you didn’t stop anywhere like this again. Damn, you needed somewhere to pass the winter. The day was almost over and you’d have to sleep all piled up inside the cars or outside around the fire.

You had your portions of fruits in hand and went to Lori to see if everything was ok. You had had two small berries and thought that was enough, you could go longer without much food, the important thing was to drink water. You approached her and Carl sitting on a log. “How are you? Do you need anything?” You were always asking her this, sometimes she even get annoyed with you, so you would send Carol or Maggie to check on her.

“I’m good Y/N/N.” She said a small sad smile on her face.

“Here, I brought some more fruits for you.” You put the fruits on her lap.

“What about you? You need to eat.” She worried, now was the part you lied to her, it had become easy for you.

“I already ate, this ones are some extras I found. Eat, this is the baby portion.” You smiled, and caressed her showing belly lightly. “If you need anything just tell me, ok?”

Daryl and Rick were talking on some distance, they were where they could watch the camp, but where no one could listen to them. Probably planning the next step, Rick probably expressing his worries to the hunter since he didn’t want the group to panic. You walked in their direction and when you arrived they stopped to talk.

“Were you talking about me? Why did you stop talking?” You asked playfully. You knew they were probably talking men shit that Rick didn’t feel comfortable talking with you, in fact both of you had distanced a lot since the farm. It seemed that he forgot what you said about not keeping things to himself and sharing with you. At least, you thought, he seemed to be sharing with Daryl. You were almost jealous of him being closer to Rick than you. “I’m kidding, ok.” You raised your hand in surrender before they thought anything bad, especially Rick.

“She needs anything?” Rick asked and you almost rolled your eyes, as much as you loved taking care of her you were tired of going back and forth between them doing amends and sending messages.

“Just her husband. Do you think we can get that to her?” You answered seriously. “I know things are shitty but you two should make up. For the sake of Carl and the baby.”

“You don’t understand Y/N. You should stay outside of this.” Gosh, it was so stressful those days. You were not very distant from exploding.

“Yeah. I don’t, I’m just your messenger. That shouldn’t be my job.” You were tired, maybe overreacting and stressed as fuck. “I feel as my parents are ignoring each other and I need to stay in the middle mending things, the thing is, you are not my parents and our parents never did this shit.”

You knew Rick and Lori wasn’t good before the shooting and all, but at that time you remembered Rick was trying everything. He tried to ignore the bad things and be a good husband and father, make things better, but now it was as if he didn’t want to try, his only goal was for everyone to be safe and find a safe place so Lory could have the baby. Feelings or softness were put aside, you couldn’t barely recognize him. You left the two men and went to the road, kicking every small stone you found in your way. People were a little further in the woods close to the fire, you wanted to be alone, that’s why you went to the road.

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. You wanted to break something, but you had nothing to do it and you couldn’t do it to any of the cars. You put your hands on the truck and bended stretching your spine and trying to breath in and out the anger inside of you. God, being in an apocalypse was bringing so many sides of you that you didn’t know before.

“What was that?” You jumped at the archer’s voice right beside you leaning on the car.

“Fuck. Stop being so silent!” You stood up, your heart threatening to jump outside of your chest.

“Why did’ya just go to Lori and then came to us just to fight with Rick?”

“I didn’t. I… it wasn’t like that.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Yes, it was. Ya could have just answered him something and let it be” he wasn’t the best person to say anything being the biggest hot head you knew, but when he wasn’t the mad one he could see things well from outside.

“I’m tired of this whole situation and I don’t know what to do, so they can be good again.” It was consuming your thoughts for months already. “This is so stupid, they’re acting like kids!”

“Ya should stop worrying so much. Ya can care for them and don’t get involved, ya know? It’s bad for you, I can see it.” Daryl normally was the one needing to be talked to calm down, so this was new for him. He already saw you loosing your temper with Shane, but never with your family.

“In few words, what are you trying to say?” You couldn’t even think straight given to everything you were feeling.

“Mind your own business. Let them solve on their own, or not.” It was simple for him, if someone asked for your advice, you could give, but you shouldn’t let it affect you so much.

“Easier said than done.” You replied your back leaning on the car and looking at the sky in hopes a solution would fall from there, or maybe a lightning would strike you.

You knew he was right, you were too into their problems and it wasn’t making you any good. But you couldn’t help yourself but try to solve everything, you just wanted them well and happy.

Daryl was quiet now, there was other thing he wanted to talk to you about, but it was annoying him so much that he thought he would burst at any moment and the last thing he wanted was to fight with you, but you were asking for it.

Instead, he shoved his hands on his pocket and took a cloth that wrapped something. He opened it and extended his arm in your direction. “Eat.”

You looked down and saw some of the fruits he distributed around your temporary camp. “I already ate.”

“Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?” He asked and he didn’t even expected an answer you knew it. “And it isn’t a harmless one.”

“How can you even know?” He gave you that look that said ‘I always know.’ and you just rolled your eyes impatiently. Normally, you were the one putting some sense into Daryl and not the opposite. “We’re low on food, I’m worried the baby don’t get enough nutrients to grow healthy.”

“If there’s a little for each of us, you eat your ratio. I’ve been watching you for days and today I knew for sure that you aren’t eating.” You thought about making a joke, but you knew he was really holding to not outburst on you just like you did with Rick. “I always give a bigger portion to her, because of the baby, Carol too. So stop depriving yourself of eating.”

“I’m not hungry.” As soon as you finished saying your stomach betrayed you rumbling as loud as possible.

“Eat. Am I going to need to feed ya so ya eat something?” He rolled his eyes as soon as he heard your stomach complaining.

“Would you?” You raised an eyebrow teasing him.

“If you didn’t have your hands, yes, but this isn’t the case. Start eating. Now.” He commanded his arm still in front of you with the fruits.

“Ok, dad.” You mocked him. In moments like this he thought he had really spoiled you, you were so carefree about joking with him, and at the same time he thought that maybe you were changing him.

You took the cloth with the fruits from his hand and started to eat, his gaze never leaving you. “From now on, we’re going to eat together.” You stopped munching on some to look at him a little bit annoyed. “Dun gimme this look. ‘m gonna make sure ya eating. If we run into trouble, I need ya in condition to fight and protect the group.”

“What about you? Ain’t gonna eat?” If he separated equal portions to everyone, you were probably eating his.

“I have more food in my stomach than ya had in the last week, so ya can knock yourself.” He was a little proud of himself, because if all of this were in other times he’d tell you to starve to death and throw all the fruits on you. “I ate while I was collecting, those ones I kept in case ya didn’t eat. Again.”

You continue to munch on your humble meal savoring all sorts of flavors this fruits had, but that your organism was very thankful you were finally eating. While you ate you hummed some song you didn’t even know and would pout while chewing it all. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes of you, he was angry at you some minutes prior and now he felt like he wanted to kiss your pout and feed you the fruits. You had this power over him.

“What are you looking at?” You asked when you noticed he was staring.

‘Ya being adorable.’, he thought. He cleared his throat and said instead, “Ya need to stop caring too much about the others and start caring about yerself. I admire yer altruism, but ya’re important too.”

“I’ll eat from now on.” Suddenly the cloth in your hand was very interesting. “I’m sorry, didn’t want to worry you.”

He walked till he was in front of you, sometimes you forgot how tall he was and how small you felt close to him. It could scare you in the past, but you always felt safe with him. “Just eat.” He caressed your head, his fingers running on your hair.

You looked at him and was surprised on how soft he could be after lecturing you about not eating. You pursed your lips and looked at him waiting for something. “What’s this?” He asked a smile almost slipping.

“Kiss me.” You pointed at your lips. He snorted and put one hand on each side of your face.

“I dunno… Dun think stubborn girls get to be kissed.” He teased, he didn’t think he would be able to deny you anything. Unless you were risking your life.

“But I did what you said. I ate everything.” You showed him the empty cloth. “Kiss me.”

“Since you were a good girl, ‘m giving you one.” He lowered his face and gave your pouted lips a peck.

“Thank you…”

“Nah, I kissed ya because I wanted to.” He mocked you.

“Not for the kiss asshole! For everything, for telling me when I’m wrong and for taking care of me…” You circled your arms around his waist.

“Ya weren’t wrong, but ya should let people solve their own problems. And ya need to eat and keep yerself healthy.” He said, his arms resting on your shoulders his hands crossing on your back. “I can’t have ya fainting or weak and becoming walker food. I need ya.”

You stared into each other eyes for what seemed like an eternity, but none of you wanted to look away. Damn, you could get lost in him. Both of you had so much to say, and you could see so many feelings into each other’s eyes. You wanted to say how much you loved and appreciated him, but it never seemed like the time. You felt as it wasn’t an issue anymore, telling him about your feelings, but you’d rather show him with your actions than voice the words.

“None of these things are going to happen to me. I’ll be here, with you.” You tiptoed and pressed your lips against his in a chaste and pure way, just to say with no words how you appreciated him.

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#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl x you #till the dead so us part #deansapplepie

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storiesbyrhi · 2 years

Text

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 9: Halloween

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 6680 words Series Masterlist

Previous Chapters: 1 - Valium; 2 - Carrie; 3: Honey; 4: Starcourt; 5: Buzzkill; 6: Monsterous; 7: Prizes; 8: Interlude

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: ♫ Boys and girls of every age. Wouldn’t you like to see something strange? ♫ Nah, but it is the spooky season and that means two things: softness and smut.

Author’s Note: So, turns out I've been writing the school year as they run in Australia (Semester 1 runs from January to June, Semester 2 from July to December). But in the US, the school year isn’t the same as the calendar year; the end of the academic year is around May/June… so… Yikes. I can’t change it now so we will have to just pretend the US is the same as Australia. Sorry and thank you.

The Jack-o-lanterns were sat on a line of broken bar stools, plastic outdoor chairs, and other trash nobody at Forest Hills had ever bothered to take to the dump. Eddie had come home with them the night prior, pupils blown and a manic grin on his face.

It had been almost midnight when Eddie had ducked out after someone called the trailer looking to score. It was worth the drive, financially speaking, so he’d kissed you in your sleep and disappeared into the night. When he got back, you were bundled up on the couch on the porch.

“Angel, what are you doing up?”

“Woke up and you were gone,” you’d said, voice sleepy as you got up and let him help you jump from the porch. He kissed you deeply.

“Sorry, bub. Just made a couple hundred bucks though. And look at this,” he’d said too eager to show you all the Jack-o-lanterns piled in the back of his van, wax dripping from some.

“Where… did you get those?”

“Stole them. From Jason Carver and his bougie neighbours.”

The next morning, he’d lined up them up and called Jeff, Gareth, and Gene. Only Jeff was free, asking if he could bring Esther.

You sat next to Esther in a couple of fold-out camping chairs, drinking Dr Pepper and watching the boys smash the pumpkins with an old baseball bat.

“Why are boys like this?” Esther had asked you.

“I thought maybe it was just Hawkins that did it to them? Like, nothing better to do than dumb shit?”

“Oh, no, babe. They’re like this everywhere.”

Esther was kind, funny, and fit into the group of lost sheep well. However, she wasn’t so lost herself, but actually very fucking cool. You were sure if she had wanted to try out for cheer, she would have made the team. But when she transferred mid-year, started dating Jeff and sitting at the Hellfire table, she showed no interest in being friends with the cool kids. You knew it pissed Hayley off. Esther was the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen.

“We can hear you, you know?” Eddie said, pointing the bat at you. “You tellin’ me you don’t want a go? That this is too dumb for you?”

You smiled at your boyfriend and shook your head.

“Here’s the thing about me,” Esther said, standing and taking the bat from Eddie. “I’m happy to admit when I’m a hypocrite. This is dumb boy shit. But… when in Rome.” She took a swing and the bat hit the pumpkin with such force that it exploded entirely. Eddie started to laugh hysterically and Jeff pulled her into a kiss.

“Come on. Have a go,” Eddie said as he came over, leaning down and holding a hand on each arm of the chair. He kissed the tip of your nose.

Giving in to the peer pressure, you took the bat from Esther, who had pushed Jeff into her chair and perched herself on his lap. “You got this, girl,” she encouraged.

Eddie put a fresh Jack-o-lantern on a stool and came to stand next to you. He lowered his voice and leaned in close. “This orange motherfucker is meant for you, angel. I swiped it from Andy’s.” Eddie kissed your cheek and stepped away from you, giving you space.

Deep breath in, and long breath out, you held the bat up and swung hard. Andy’s pumpkin caved in and went flying, breaking into chunks in the air. Jeff, Esther, and Eddie all cheered.

After leaving the pumpkin pieces for the trailer park animals, you all drove into town for lunch at the diner. It felt like a double date, which was something you used to dream about. It seemed like such a lovely and special and awesome thing. As you sat in a window booth, Eddie’s arm around you while you fed each other fries and listened to Esther tell you stories about Chicago, her weird scientist dad and the top-secret job that brought him to Hawkins, you discovered it was lovely, special, and awesome

…

Summer had ended, ushering in the Halloween hues and crunchy leaves of Fall. Senior year was moving at a snail’s pace, but the finish line was in sight with final exams only a month and a bit away.

When Eddie was at Hellfire or band practice, you were doubling down on studying, determined to do well. All the colleges you had applied for demanded a certain level of academic success, and nothing was going to stop you from getting the hell out of Hawkins.

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken about what would come after high school. Eddie was on track to graduate, so in theory, he could leave the haunted small town too. The fear that ran through you when you thought about asking him if he would, if he would come with you, was paralysing. What if he said no? What if he wouldn’t leave Wayne? What if it was the end of you and Eddie? So, you entirely ignored anything post 1986. You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but Eddie was doing the same.

To be entirely honest, you weren’t even sure if Eddie knew which colleges you had applied for. He would be stupid to think you hadn’t applied at all, but you couldn’t remember ever mentioning it. You felt like there would be an undoing at some point, but that point was not now, so it didn’t matter. Eddie’s philosophy of mindfulness, living in the moment, was certainly rubbing off on you.

For the first time in a long time, you had a little more pep in your step. Zest for life. All that anti-emo bullshit. It did mean, however, that you were genuinely excited for Halloween and all the spooky fun that went with it.

“What do you mean you’ve been to Jason’s parties before?” you asked, the image of Eddie anywhere near a basketballer’s house not able to even form in your mind.

“You wouldn’t believe how much people pay for shit at those things,” Eddie said. “Trick is to rock up at the right time. Just as the shitty beer is running out, but before anybody sobers up. I can overcharge and they’ll buy anything,”

“I have never seen you at one.” You didn’t make the cheer squad in your Freshmen year, which in hindsight could have been when you really committed to losing baby weight and to demonising food. When you made the squad in Sophomore year, it felt like the start of something good. Being a cheerleader granted you invites to Jason’s big Halloween parties. That year and Senior year though, you definitely didn’t see Eddie there.

“You didn’t go wandering down the garden path and into the shadows looking to score though, did you?”

You shook your head. “Did Jason know?”

“Probably. Where else would it be coming from? Can’t start a fight with the only supplier willing to risk holding in that part of town. Crawling with cops and neighbourhood watches,”

“A begrudging symbiotic relationship,” you joked.

“Yep. But, not this year. Fuck ‘em. They can find someone else. We’ve got better things to do, yeah?”

Gene’s parents were going to Nashville for a wedding, leaving an empty house over the Halloween weekend. His parents weren’t worried; Gene wasn’t really the type to throw a rager. They imagined the worse that could happen was someone would spill bong water on the carpet or drip wax on the good buffet. Those Hellfire sessions needed mood lighting, after all.

It was Gene’s last chance at a little infamy, Senior year and all that. He spent the week inviting pretty much anyone that wouldn’t be invited to Jason’s party to his own. Freaks. Geeks. Weirdos. And the formally invisible. By 10:30 pm on Halloween, the house was packed. You and Eddie, however, had not yet arrived.

Wayne had cooked an early dinner, saying something about needing to line your stomachs before hitting the bottles. He left soon after. “Where’s he going?” you’d asked Eddie as you washed the dishes and he dried.

“You know his mate John, the one that-”

“Just got divorced,” you finished. Wayne talked a lot about John, because John talked a lot about the divorce and how she moved back to Indy with the kids.

“Yeah. Wayne is going over to keep him company. You know, ‘cause the trick or treaters remind him of the kids and he’s gonna drink himself into oblivion if someone isn’t there to stop him,”

“Jeez. Wayne is like… an actual angel. Honestly.”

Eddie nodded. “Yep. Sayin’ that though, John’s buying the beers and steak, so it’s a win-win.”

You showered around 7:00 pm, sat in front of the mirror and did your makeup. It would take Eddie a lot longer to get ready, so you wanted time to help him. As you smudged brown eyeshadow along your face, giving the appearance of dirt, you started to feel it – that hot, uncomfortable sensation. Insecurity. Dissociation.

Leaving your hair for last, you tried on the costume like you had half a dozen times before. Now, too late to change your mind, you hated it. The pants pulled around your thighs, nothing like the character you were dressed as.

You hated it most when it was like that. Feeling ugly in the shitty lights of a change room was one thing. The chafing between your thighs and the self-consciousness of gym class was another expected, and gratefully over, thing. But when it surprised you like that. When you had already tried on the clothes. Seen your reflection. Thought of yourself one way. Then BAM. Hideous. Fat. Revolting. Out of fucking nowhere. Yeah, that was the worst one.

Before Eddie got out of the shower, you quickly changed back into sweatpants and a t-shirt, sitting down in front of the mirror.

Eddie came into the room, dripping water and barely holding the towel to cover himself. You’d been living with him for a couple of months by then, so you’d seen him naked, but it still made you blush.

“Alright,” he said, hitting play on the tape deck, then looking around the room for his costume. “Let’s do this thing. Where are my ears?” Eddie looked up at you and clocked it immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, coming over and kneeling next to you, taking your legs and hugging them.

There was no point in lying; he knew you too well. “I, um, I don’t know about the costume,” you admitted.

Eddie thought for a second. “Okay… Do you want to swap?”

You shook your head. “No. You look cute. I just…” Shrugging, you avoided eye contact with both your reflection and Eddie. “Esther says she’s not wearing a costume. She’s just bought a cute dress,”

“Yeah, but Jeff is pissy about it. Don’t tell her I told you, but he was suuuuper jealous when I said that we have matching costumes,” Eddie told you in that soft voice he used when you were sad.

“Did you tell him what we’re going as?”

“No. It’s a secret, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nodding. “It’s just… It’s the first time I haven’t fully hated myself in two years and maybe I should have gone as like, an angel or something?”

“Okay, first of all, you’re my angel, nobody else’s. Second of all, we’re way more original than that. But, I’ll do whatever you want, honest… but can I tell you something first?” Eddie asked.

You nodded; Eddie grinned, stood up, and started to pace. It was his awkward storytelling pace.

“The first time I saw you in that,” he started, pointing to your costume. “I almost jizzed myself,”

“Eddie!” you squealed, covering your face.

“Seriously. And with the props. Babe. You’re the dream girl. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. We’re gonna be the best dressed couple and everyone is gonna be soooooo jealous. And we’ll drink some of Gareth’s freakishly good pumpkin punch stuff and sneak into an empty room and you don’t even need to worry about what you look like in it, because I’m gonna have you out of it so quick.”

You laughed because he was ridiculous.

Eddie slipped his hands into his back pockets, looking at you with a toothy smile. “I promise. You’re an A-grade hottie… But I don’t want you to be… you know, uncomfortable. So, whatever you want.”

Chewing your lip, you looked back at the costume. Eddie watched you stand up and take off your sweat pants, step into your costume, pull it on, and zip it up.

“Those aliens don’t stand a fucking chance,” he said, crossing the room to grab you in a hug, kissing you. “I was like, 12 or 13 when it came out, you know? She might have been my first real crush. I’m not fucking with you when I say this is doing things for me,”

“Things?”

“Oh, you need me to be more explicit?” Eddie teased. “You were hiding at ‘jizzed,’ so I don’t know if you can handle more.”

You pouted dramatically. “I can,”

“Yeah? Can you handle… this?” He cradled the back of your head, moved you so your neck was exposed. Eddie nipped at your skin and made a dumb growling sound that made you laugh. “Whaaaaaat about this?” He unzipped the costume, pushing it front your shoulders and down.

It stopped being funny at that point and started being something else.

Eddie kissed down your chest, freeing you of your bra, then dropped to his knees in front of you. With your hand on his head to keep yourself steady, you let him slide your clothes and underwear off. Standing entirely naked in front of him made you feel infinitely hotter than the costume had.

“Baby,” he whispered, kissing the freckle under your belly button, then pushing his forehead against the softness of your belly. “I love you,”

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Since the night in the secret place, Eddie had spent a great deal of his time angling to get between your legs. He’d tasted you, heard you, felt you, and nothing else he spent his time on was as good as that. There was always studying for exams, Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin. The real high though, was you.

His mouth was on you fast, your legs shaking almost as quick. When you stumbled to move to the bed, lay down for him, Eddie shook his head. “No, no, stay here. Can you stay standing?” he mumbled. “Here,” he said, offering his hands as aids. You threaded your fingers through his, let him hold you up.

“Uh-huh.”

Naturally, your legs wanted to part for him but there was only so much you could do without stacking it. You had to let Eddie press his face into you entirely, had to let him work for it.

It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. When you whined out Eddie’s name, he looked up at you and grinned. “Come ‘ere,” he instructed, pulling one of your legs over his shoulders, wrapping an arm around it, keeping his other hand in yours still.

Better.

Like that, with him being not so much in front of, but under you, it felt like you were melting onto Eddie, into him. It felt dirty; you would have blushed but your mind was pop rocks in Coke.

As soon as you unlocked your knee to help you grind, you felt your legs turn to jelly. “Eddie!” you squeaked, hopping backward and falling onto the bed, stopping your orgasm before it even had a chance to bloom. You were laughing, and when Eddie popped up and saw your happy face, he fell in love just a little harder.

“Okay, I’ll come to you,” he said, smiling and crawling up onto the bed. His towel was discarded on the floor. “I, ah, there’s something we could try. If you liked that, I mean,”

“I liked that,” you said, still a little breathless.

“So, okay, so I’d lay on my back, like this,” he explained, moving to be flat on the bed. “And you would sit here.” He pointed to his face, then winked.

You tried to picture it, but you couldn’t calculate the physics. “Um, same problem though? I can’t hold myself up, when it like, gets… good,”

“No, that’s the point. You don’t need to. You just sit,” he corrected. Eddie knew what you were thinking but he didn’t know if it would be better to let you say it and face it, or if he should quell the doubt before it gained traction. “I saw it… in a movie,”

“A movie?” The suspicion was audible.

“Okay, porn. It was porn. You got me,” he said grinning. You laughed, but he could still see the doubt in your face. “I, ah… I actually got that one because, um, the girl looks a lot like you.”

It was a half-truth. Eddie had gone to a buyer’s house to sell him some ket. The guy was already stoned out of his brain and Eddie almost felt bad for contributing to the problem. Then he saw the porn playing on the T.V. set. The girl did look like you. Too much. Eddie popped the VHS out of the machine and replaced it with another sitting close by. The dude on the couch hardly noticed.

“You mean…”

“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed. “Or I can just-” Like he always did, he started to offer an out, an alternative. Safety, always.

“No! No. I, ah…” A pause. A self-affirmation. “I wanna try.”

After a few rounds of the usual ‘are you sure’ cycle, you swung your leg over Eddie, resting on his stomach first.

“Can you close your eyes?” you asked.

Eddie nodded and tried to contain the grin, but as soon as his eyes shut and he felt you move, there was no chance. His mouth would be well and truly open in a second anyway.

It was instant, as soon as you were close enough, Eddie’s arms were around your thighs, pulling you down with enough force that you couldn’t have hovered even if you tried. With all your weight on him, Eddie was a happy man.

Oh.

Fucking oh.

It was a hard yes for both of you.

When you arched your back and leaned your arms behind you, Eddie opened his eyes to watch you. With your belly stretched and your hands pressed against the mattress on either side of Eddie’s hips, you looked like a goddess.

The heavy breathing, the moaning, and the way your body was grinding into him were driving Eddie insane. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he started to wriggle under you. Entirely lost in the feeling, you hardly noticed, but he was rock hard and on the verge of tears. He felt so goddamn good.

Syllables wouldn’t come out when you tried to say his name, so when you felt how close you were to cumming, you curved yourself forward and sunk your fingers into his hair. Eddie smiled; you could feel it.

Higher and higher and higher. You squeaked and shook, then felt yourself sensationally shatter. There’s no word for the sound you made, somewhere between a growl and a scream. Breathing heavy, you rolled off Eddie and looked over at him.

His face was glistening. A feral grin told you everything you needed to know.

“Babe,” he whispered, wiping his face on the back of his hand and moving to lay on his side. “Babe.”

You giggled. “I know,”

“Oh, I know you know.”

You wanted to be closer to him, so you scooted over and mirrored Eddie’s position. It was a picture you never would have predicted for yourself. Not only entirely naked with the light on but laying on your side, gravity pushing your belly to pool on the bed. You didn’t care though, Eddie was grabbing your face and kissing you deeply.

His mouth tasted different, like you, you figured. It was hot and made your kissing needy. Eddie felt the exact same, and the sensation of his painfully hard cock pressing against you, tip leaking, excited you both.

Eddie wrapped his arms around you to close the space between his body and yours. His hips bucked up, letting the friction work its magic. Carefully, he pushed you back onto the mattress, climbed on top, one leg between yours.

As he kissed your neck, rubbed himself against the coarseness of your pubic hair and warm softness of your lower belly, he asked, “Is this… okay?”

You nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Eddie chuckled at the manners, thrusted a little harder. “I’m… I’m so fuckin’ close,” he muttered, barely audible.

Wrapping one leg around his waist, leaving the other for him to straddle, you kissed at whatever you could – Eddie’s cheekbone, the side of his head, his hand when he brought it up to your lips. He whined and bit your neck when you sucked in his index and middle finger, not letting go.

A string of fuck and baby and I love you and you feel so good. Eddie repeated them over and over, words slurring more with each round.

Where the sound of your orgasm was half growl half scream, Eddie’s was half growl half moan. Deeper, then stunted by him holding his breath. You felt the warmth and the stickiness between your body and his. It was simultaneously gross and nice. When you started to giggle uncontrollably, Eddie pulled himself from his post-cum haze to look at you and commit the moment to his long-term memory.

When he sat up, he moves his eyes slowly over every inch of you. You watched his hands hold your sides, dragging downwards. He stopped at your belly button.

“Ah, sorry,” he said with a snort.

“What?”

Eddie pointed. The messy white that was spread across your stomach had pooled in your belly button, like a little cup. When you saw, you made the same snorting sound he had.

“I want… to…” But he stopped himself.

“You gonna say something weird?” you asked, entirely excited.

Eddie moved slowly, like he could hurt himself. He dipped his finger into your belly button, making you laugh again.

“Warm,” was all he said.

You scrunched your face up and shook your head at him. “I thought you were gonna do a body shot,” you told him.

“Do you want me to?” he asked dead serious.

“No, I just thought-”

“Because I will,”

“Eddie, I-”

“I mean, if you dare me, I guess I have to.”

You were laughing. “Eddie!”

“Here we go!”

“EDDIE!” you squealed, but he was leaning down and sucking the fluid from your belly button. Squirming at the feeling, you were unable to tell if you were genuinely a bit disgusted or kind of into it. You settled on feeling weirdly natural.

“How was it?” you asked as Eddie sat up.

“Salty? I’ll start eatin’ more fruit or whatever.” When you frowned, Eddie laughed and shrugged. He’d explain it another time. “Do you want to have a quick shower?”

“Yes,”

“With me,”

“I got it, Eddie,” you told him.

Running the soapy sponge over the curves of your body made Eddie hard again. He blushed, a little embarrassed at how he was playing the ‘horny teenage boy’ role too well.

“I like it,” you whispered, your back pressed to his chest, hot water hitting the front of you. “Makes me feel good,”

“Good. You make me feel good too… Somethin’ very satisfying about cleaning… me… off… you,”

“We should hurry up though. It’s gonna take a while to get ready and it’s like, eight now,”

“Gimme one more minute with you, then you can get out? Start getting ready and I’ll be out in a sec?”

You knew he was going to jerk off as soon as he was alone, but you were into that too.

Back in the bedroom, you were about to put your underwear back on when you had a better idea. Searching through your clothes, you found what you were looking for. Standing in front of the mirror, you liked your reflection.

It took a while to re-do your makeup. The shower had fucked it up a bit, so you started fresh. When yours was done, you sat Eddie down and did his for him, doing your best at making him cute.

“Ears,” you instructed when you were done. Eddie put them on his head. “Perfect.”

…

With an hour or so until midnight, you and Eddie arrived at Gene’s house. Making your way through the crowd, you were relieved to find that most of the focus was on how objectively weird Eddie looked. Eddie – the cult leader, town freak, edgy drug dealer – dressed in a fluffy orange outfit complete with tail pinned to the ass of his pants and ears on a headband. He made for a kind of deranged but beautiful ginger tabby cat.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Gareth screeched as Eddie walked into the kitchen.

Gareth looked like a witch as he stood over a giant pot, stirring the potion inside. It smelt good, Halloweeny, and there were people buzzing around waiting for it to be ready.

“I’m Jones!” Eddie yelled at him.

“Jones?” Gareth saw you then, “Holy shit,”

“Keep it in your pants,” Eddie warned.

“You look… um, good,” Gareth said to you. He looked back at Eddie. “Why Jones and not like, the xenomorph,”

“We’ve got one already,” Eddie replied. You turned around to show Gareth the toy xenomorph stuck to the back of your Ripley jumpsuit.

Gareth laughed. “Alright. Well, fuck. You guys look good. You want some of this? It’s the second batch of the night,” he offered. People around groaned, annoyed that they’d been waiting longer.

“Dungeon Masters get first drinks,” Eddie yelled at everyone and nobody in particular.

Bidding Gareth, who was actually dressed as a D&D character – not a witch, goodbye, you let Eddie take your hand and lead you through the house and out the back to where Gene and Jeff had built a semi-stable somewhat dangerous fire pit.

The circle of people around the blaze, most of which were Hellfire warriors, cheered Eddie’s arrival. Eddie stopped at two chairs occupied by people he didn’t recognise. “Scram,” he ordered.

“Eddie!” you reprimanded.

“Sorry. Scram, please,” he corrected. The people left, and you shot Eddie a look as you sat down. “Don’t give me that face. Mean and scary, remember?”

“Man, you’re not really giving mean and scary right now,” Jeff called across the fire. He was dressed as Freddy Krueger. Esther was sitting next to him, pretty in a dress.

“Yeah, dude, what are you?” Dustin asked, confused at the appearance of his hero.

“Jones from the USCSS Nostromo. This is Ripley,” Eddie explained, nodding to you. You smiled and waved happily, not radiating Ripley energy in the slightest.

“At least you look cool,” Jeff said.

“And we can all agree everyone looks better than Mike,” Gene added.

Mike was sitting next to Dustin, nursing a bottle of beer he was a bit nervous to be drinking at all. “I told you – I’m Billy from Gremlins,”

“I might buy that if you had Gizmo with you. But you’re just wearing your normal clothes,” Gene said.

“Why’s Esther get a free pass?!” Mike argued.

“I’m Freddy’s victim,” she said with a shrug. It was a good enough cover. “Come tomorrow I’ll be dead. There’s a costume change later.” There wasn’t.

“Whatever. Maybe I’m just growing up,”

“You saying I’m a baby, Wheeler?” Eddie challenged, holding his tail up and spinning it.

“No! I just mean-”

“Yeah, whatever man. Where’s Sinclair? What did he come as?” Eddie asked. A silence fell over the group. “He’s at Jason’s, I’m guessin’,”

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “He went as Magic Johnson.”

Eddie could see that Dustin was hurt; he imagined there was a fight about it all. Ultimately, Eddie didn’t really begrudge Lucas. He knew the kid loved basketball, and he was finding his own way. Mostly, he just didn’t want to see him get hurt like so many people that come into contact with the popular kids did.

“Are we supposed to know who that is?” Gene said.

“He’s a basketballer. Lucas’ hero,” you said. Lucas had told you about him once, shown you some pictures he’d cut out of magazines and newspapers. He was important, Lucas had said, not needing to explain why to you.

“Are we supposed to know who you are, Genie?” Eddie added, looking at his friend.

“I’m Jack!” he said, clearly outraged at not being recognised. “Torrance?”

“Where’s your axe?” you asked.

“Fuck. I knew I forgot something.”

Midnight came and went, ghost stories were told, and you and Eddie got suitably drunk on whatever funky shit Gareth had conjured.

“I’m serious, Gee. Anythin’ you want. Jus’ name it. Name it! I need ta know wha’s in it,” Eddie begged.

You were sitting between them on the couch, back against Eddie’s chest as he angled towards his friend, his arms around you, and your legs up on Gareth’s lap, where he held them steady.

“Anything? Pshhh. Such a fuckin’ liar, Munson. Your Warlock? You’d never give ‘er up,”

“Yeah, alright. I’m fulla shit. But you can… Borrow her? For a couple shows? Or… Or I’ll make you DM!”

“I’m already gonna be DM as soon as you graduate,” Gareth rebutted.

“Which he will,” you added.

“Okay, so then jus’ tell me for like, a graduation gift?” Eddie pleaded.

“Tell me! An’ not Eddie. An’ I won’t tell him,” you offered, knowing Gareth would jump at the opportunity to get one up on his friend.

“Hey!” Eddie said, instantly pulling a sulky face.

“You won’t tell him?” Gareth asked. You shook your head. “Alright. Come ‘ere.” You leaned forward and listened as Gareth whispered all the secret ingredients to his pumpkin punch.

Later, when Gareth left to go ask a girl named Gracie to dance (she was dressed as Princess Leia) Eddie pulled you back so you were entirely in his lap on the couch.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked.

“Ah-huh. Later,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him. “He didn’t make me promise sooooo, like, that’s on him?”

“Totally. Rookie mistake,” Eddie agreed.

“Roooooooookieeeeee mistake,” you repeated.

Eddie held your face in his hands and kissed you, he tasted like secret ingredients and Dustin’s mum’s Halloween sugar cookies.

“Are you drunk enough to dance yet?”

“Fuck it. Come on, angel. Show me whatcha got.”

Eddie kept you upright as you danced and twirled around him. He held your hand and spun you under his arms as you sang the words to songs Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead listening to under any other circumstances. Papa Don’t Preach. Manic Monday.

You were breathless when a slow song came on.

There is freedom within, there is freedom without. \

Eddie held you close as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested against him, letting him sway you around the living room, barely avoiding all the other couples.

Try to catch a deluge in a paper cup.

Eddie winked at Gareth, who still had Gracie with him. His friend blushed and buried his head in Gracie’s neck. Eddie’s attention came back to you. He started to sing quietly.

There’s a battle ahead, many battles are lost. But you’ll never see the end of the road while you’re traveling with me.

A little louder, and you could hear others in the room join in.

Hey now, hey now.

The others heard it too, and suddenly everyone was singing along.

Don’t dream it’s over. Hey now, hey now, when the world comes in. they come, they come to build a wall between us. We know they won’t win.

It’s a moment that never would have happened at Jason Carver’s party.

As the second verse began, Eddie whispered, “Wanna go somewhere, just us?”

You nodded, floated along behind Eddie, hardly watching where you were going as your boyfriend navigated the house. It was late, or early, depending on perspective; people were looking worse for wear, passing out or trying to find an exit. Eddie knew where he was going though, he’d been there before. Gene’s parents were cool and had let Eddie crash in the guest room a couple of times. He knew, therefore, that the door locked and the bed was a queen double.

The light was on in the room, but whoever had been there was long gone. They had been there though. A forgotten bag of candy spilled out across the bed and floor. Someone’s Dracula cape was hung on the back of the desk chair. A pair of devil horns were on the ground. Although the quilt has been disturbed, the bed was still made.

Eddie locked the door and switched off the light. You screamed a drunk little sound, then immediately started to giggle. “Hold on, don’t move. I’ll get the lamp. Don’t, don’t fuckin’ fall over.” He found the lamp, turned around to see you standing very still with your eyes closed. Eddie snorted. “What’re ya doin’?”

“Huh?”

You felt Eddie’s hands around your waist, shaking you a little. When you opened your eyes, he was smiling at you, a Cheshire cat if you’d ever seen one.

“Why’d you close your eyes?”

“What?”

He was too drunk to be bothered with the line of questioning and you were too drunk to meet him halfway.

“You wanna lay down with me?” he asked instead. Eddie was starfishing on the bed before you really answered. You laughed as he took off his furry pants and jacket, leaving him in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt and his boxers.

Following suit, you stripped of your Ripley boiler suit, almost going for a second round of costume in a white singlet and a pair of white underwear. Eddie noticed. “Fuck. Did you do that on purpose?”

“Mayyyyyyyyyyybeeeeeeee,” you said, standing at the edge of the bed, any shadow of self-consciousness drowned in punch and song.

“Angel,” Eddie purred, sitting on the bed, wrapping his arms around your hips and kissing your belly. “Such a good girl.” That’s all it took to make you come undone.

Everything was easier when drunk. Muscles relaxed. Insecurities forgotten. Everything was more difficult too. Bad coordination. Losing focus when a sound was deemed funny.

“Are we gonna forget this?” you asked Eddie.

He stopped what he was doing, popped his head up out of the blanket. “I’m not gonna forget goin’ down on you while ya dressed as Ripley.”

He looked deranged. His painted-on whiskers were smudged and his eyeliner was more raccoon than tabby cat. You couldn’t help but laugh, your belly shaking with the movement.

“You look funny,”

“Funny? I don’t look sexy like this?” Eddie repositioned himself, rested his cheek against your tummy and watched you.

You shook your head. “But you can still touch me,” you offered.

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh. “By the grace of god almighty Ozzy himself, I can still touch her,” he joked, raising a hand up in prayer.

“Actually, maybe, if you want…”

“Yes. I want,” Eddie answered, nodding frantically.

You cackled. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say,”

“I would do anything with you. To you. From you. Fuckin’ whatever.”

Still laughing, you moved out from under him and sat on your knees, your weight resting on your folded legs. Eddie watched you in awe; he loved how your thighs spread and your eyes sparkled and the white singlet pulled across your chest, making the fabric almost see-through.

“It’s your turn,” you told him, moving again. Eddie’s lips parted as you got off the bed, kneeling on the floor beside it. “You come here,” you instructed, patting the edge of the mattress.

“You don’t have to,” Eddie told you, already moving to where you wanted him. His legs slid down either side of you, and you immediately liked the feeling of having your head on his thigh.

He was already hard, as he always was whenever he went down on you, but the sensation of your warm breath so close to him made it painful.

“Want to,” you whispered back to him.

As soon as your hand made contact, Eddie’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. It was enough to drive him insane, but then you made a tentative kitten lick and he moaned, falling back on the bed and clawing at the quilt.

In the rare times you were alone in the Munson trailer, you’d sneakily watched some of the old porn VHSs that were stashed deep under Eddie’s bed. Partly, you wanted to know what he was into. Mostly, you just wanted to see what it was like. Whilst you weren’t into porn, it did give some idea of what to do with Eddie.

“Is this okay?” you asked him, popping him out of your mouth. He whined at the loss of contact. “Is this good?”

“So good, baby,” he managed to get out, waving his hand in the air. “S’perfect. Love you.”

You had been thinking about it long before Halloween. Obviously, Eddie was going to be all yesses and nods and smiles, but if you were honest, you were a tiny bit afraid. Not of him. Never of him. It was more that everything else you’d done, it had mostly been done to you.

Being a recipient was easy, especially with Eddie. What if you weren’t as good as him though? What if you couldn’t make him hard? Make him cum?

When you felt the buzz first hit, the thought had appeared in your head and it looked like an illuminated lightbulb. If that’s how the night was going to end, you’d use the inhibition blocker of alcohol to take that step forward.

The thing about it though, was that he tasted good. It felt good. Powerful. Beautiful. A little bit slutty, but in a very, very good way. And all for Eddie. Just Eddie.

Eddie, who was reacting perfectly – squirming, panting, and mumbling incoherent sentences. He loved you and you were such a good girl and fuck, baby and oh my god. When his hand started to pull at your hair gently, you looked up at him, confused.

“Bab-baby, I’m gonna, gonna, you shhhhould, fuck,” he tried to warn you.

“S’okay,” you told him, keeping your firm grip on the base of his cock and letting him slip back over your tongue. Resolute to swallow, you closed your eyes as his orgasm hit. There was too much though; it spilled from your lips.

Eddie watched as you let him go, watched you cover your mouth with your hand and at least swallow what was left. He sunk to the floor, caging you between his legs.

“You okay?” he asked, his big brown eyes so beautiful you wanted to cry.

“I liked it,” you reported. “Did I do good?”

“Did you-? Fuck, baby…” Eddie grinned, head tilted. “I’m gonna just say it, an’ you can just deal with the embarrasin’ words and shit, okay?”

“‘Kay,”

“And I say all this with so much love. And respect. I respect the fuck out of you, ‘kay?”

“Yep,”

“Come ‘ere.” Eddie pulled you into his arms, earning a surprised squeal from you. Entwined on the bedroom floor, sobering up but drunk on love, you were in your own world. “You were born to suck dick.”

It was a risky review to give, Eddie thought, but when you did the little shoulder shimmy thing you did whenever you were proud, he was a happy man.

“Just yours,” you told him, looking up and fluttering your eyelashes.

“Jesus Christ. I love you.”

Smiling him an I love you too smile, you sat for a while longer. Eddie went in search of water for you both, returning to find you passed out in the bed. He climbed in next to you, snuggled in, and quickly followed you into the dreaming.

Next Chapter: 10 - Royalty

End Note: I had to publish this chapter earlier than intended because I've seen references to Eddie and Alien in two different fanart pieces, and I freaked out because I had that part of the chapter written over a month ago. Honestly, that fandom hive mind is real.

Fic Taglist: @jeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog (has your url changed or am I tagging the wrong person?) @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader #Eddie Munson/Chubby!Reader

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

Note

Piggy backing off of the idea that Yves may of been born rich. That ask about his favorite foods also gives a new perspective to this idea as well.

Like we know that him trying the caviar wasn’t about the caviar itself but more so what it represents. Like the idea that he’s finally sitting (figuratively) at the same table as the people who were abusing him and consuming the same things they do. There’s a chance that he never even have such things even in his early childhood.

Like perhaps his parent(s) never allowed him to consume luxurious things despite the wealth or kept it away from him as punishment. Like he was constantly around it, but was never allowed to consume it. But was still forced to confirm to higher echelon etiquette because “you will not embarrass me”. That in itself would be a major mindfuck.

Perhaps he was literally locked away from guests for being “different” and mostly observed how his family and other blue bloods interacted with each other (this could possibly also be an origin point for his obsessively keen observance and mental documentation skills) and was only let out once in a while to not raise suspicion before eventually being thrown out or sent to a conversion camp which sent him on his initial spiral downward.

Those r just my ideas and thoughts though. What do u fink

U have such delicious thougts n ideas and i fink u r sexy for it

Yes that is true, Yves wouldn't care to let his kids try new foods, he would just feed them things that has all the nutrients to survive, but probably not the flavour to keep their sanity intact

Like id love to imagine Yves as this toxic almond mom whos ONLY that way to his kids, he doesnt have to be outwardly like mean about it but his aura that he emanates is disapproving when his kids eat something other than boiled chicken breast, rice and broccoli(and they dont wanna get into the deprivation sensory chamber again) like rmemever this guy counts calories like a cheapskate with money and went thru a fuckton of eating disorders

And he got them from his parents, so definitely he wasnt allowed to eat them fuckin caviars n scallops but he was allowed to ogle at them

But ykno i described yves as being super dumb a lot when he was young, so it naturally comes with the intense meekness and he was definitely a massive doormat due to his parents abuse

Holy shit anon u do raise a good point, his view on children is exactly like how his parents see offsprings, a tool to better their reputation at best, a parasite that needs extermination at worst. So if he doesn't act right into the duster closet he goes, but mostly he is quiet and obedient, blending well into the bluebloods.

However though, when he starts experimenting and liking more feminine things, getting caught happily twirling around in his mother's dress and playing with her expensive makeup... they go apeshit, berating him and beating the life out of him

Then just sent him to a horrific conversion camp, but i was thinking of like he didnt esxape from his family from there, like he was shipped back to his parents all traumatized then continued a couple more years acting hetero before being booted out to the curb

Still not sure how i wanna establish his entire lore tho, like i had an idea of reincarnation n shit for the main reason as to why he loved you so unconditionally, but that like doesnt fit the frame of storytelling that i want yet, im gonna focus on the present yves and keep his past a mystery for now

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #oc yves #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader

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cabeswatersedge · 3 months

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Young Royals season 3 thoughts up to episode 4:

- I love that we’re de-idolizing Erik. Wille’s always felt like he couldn’t live up to his perfect brother. But there’ve been hints before that he wasn’t a saint, like the line about Erik seeing an escort. I think it’s important for Wille to realize his brother wasn’t perfect. No one is. And especially not someone who would’ve been raised to obey orders. The fact that Erik was good at being a Prince is exactly why it makes sense that he would allow terrible shit to happen around him and just go along with it, possibly participate. He saw it as his duty to honour tradition and to obey authority.

- Felice’s hair!!! I remember some people clocked it in the previous season, when the dorm master told her to tie her hair up. but it wasn’t brought to the forefront so I wasn’t sure how we were supposed to interpret it. I’m impressed that it was set up so well.

- The fucking rich kids trying to stage a protest was so funny. Walter and Henry trying to buy the lollipop. Vincent being like “I didn’t plan this far ahead.”

- “That sounds like an eating disorder.” tbh I think it would’ve made more sense for Madi to say that line, since she’s always been the blunt one, and Simon’s mostly avoided talking to August.

- I’m kind of so here for Micke actually being a good dad now. We saw hints of that in season 1 and I always thought the fandom, at least the younger people in it, were way too harsh with him given how little was actually shown to us on-screen. He fucked up raising his kids but is trying to turn things around (parallels to both Sara and August’s story). His advice to Sara about living with ADHD was really sweet.

- The camping episode had some cute moments. It made me mad about the nature of the binge-watching model for tv because I wanted to be able to talk about the cute moments and reblog some gifs of it while the episode was still relevant. But because no one can talk about a series until it’s complete, the episode kinda gets nullified by the fact that stuff gets resolved or dealt with in the episodes after. Plus I have ti keep everything blacklisted on tumblr until I’m fully done the season. I miss back in the day when an episode would air and then you could talk to people about it before the next episode came out.

#young royals #yr s3 #young royals spoilers

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misscongeniality18 · 1 year

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if ur not comfortable with writing this one i totally get it but it would make me the happiest person on this planet if you could do peter sutherland x reader who has dependent personality disorder? if ur unfamiliar with it, symptoms include feeling helpless, submissive, incapable of taking care of themselves, difficulty being alone, trouble making everyday decisions, being over sensitive to criticism. for me it developed from childhood trauma/abuse so if u could include that too? dpd isnt something i see represented like, at all in fics and it would make me the happiest girl on earth to read one with peter <3

I am unfamiliar with DPD, but I'll give it my best shot! I hope you don't mind if I take a few liberties with the specific details of the reader's background, but I'll follow your request! I also apologize in advance if this doesn't represent correctly.

Keep Holding On - Peter Sutherland

Synopsis ! You are having a rough day, and you turn to Peter for support. Pairing ! Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Genre ! Fluff, some angst Warnings ! Reader has dependent personality disorder, people being rude for no reason, mentions of childhood trauma and abuse Word Count - 925

" Keep holding on 'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through Just stay strong 'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you " -Keep Holding On, Avril Lavigne

Masterlist Request Guide

Today was just one of those days.

Like Peter, you worked nights as an operator for a tech company’s help desk. But since you worked at home, you were left alone once Peter left for work. While you were actively taking calls, you were fine, but in between, you struggled.

You hated being alone because you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Sometimes there were so many things to do, you felt overwhelmed and just decided to watch TV instead. Peter was very sweet about it when he would come home, helping you make something to eat or offering to put your laundry in with his.

Peter was the only person who made you feel better.

Your dependent personality disorder started with your childhood. Your parents weren’t always the most supportive or loving parents in the world, and they were incredibly selfish. Instead of being allowed to play outside, you were forced to be in the house doing chores or constantly studying.

And you never did anything right. Or at least to her standards.

Your mother was controlling, and she always corrected everything you did. You didn’t scrub the counters in circles, and you used the wrong sponge. The clothes were folded too sloppily, and your handwriting wasn’t legible enough. Write your equations going across the paper, not going down. What do you mean, you want to take dance lessons? How will they help you in the real world? Go to computer camp instead, that will look good on your resume, and everyone used computers nowadays.

While your mother was stifling and constructive, your father was absent and dismissive. Spending most of his time at work or in his home office, he only cared to acknowledge you when it concerned him. He didn’t care what you did, as long as you didn’t bother him.

After you moved away for college, you were only able to obtain an associate’s degree in computer science, and you only managed to scrape by from the help of your roommate and your understanding professors. To you, nothing was good enough and you often had to be led through each assignment in order to complete it.

With your job, you got lucky because it was computers, and you knew computers inside and out. It had been programmed into your brain ever since you were a child. Your mother had made sure of that.

You had been lost until you met Peter. He was caring, protective, and understanding. He wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you. He was the person you would turn to for comfort.

Until he couldn’t be there for you.

It wasn’t his fault, you knew that. Just like you, he had to work. But you still couldn’t push down the feeling of helplessness whenever he wasn’t with you.

You were feeling that way right now as you tried to reason and help a customer on the phone.

“Sir, I understand that you’re upset—“

“Upset?! Of course I’m upset! My computer isn’t working and you’re not doing anything about it! What are you, stupid?!”

Your bottom lip began to tremble, and you stuttered as you started to explain yourself. “I-I’m sorry s-sir, but y-you need to b-bring your c-computer in t-to one of our l-locations to r-remove the v-viruses—“

“Oh d-d-d-do I?” He stuttered mockingly back at you. “What do you know? You sound like a child, crying like that! I’m calling someone else because incompetent individuals like you don’t know how to do anything!”

The man hung up on you, and you dropped your phone into your lap, reminded of all the times your mother had yelled at you when you had done something wrong.

Tears ran down your cheeks as your body began to shake uncontrollably. You signed off of your work program, not caring if you were early. It was almost five in the morning, so you were close enough to clocking out.

Your hands scrambled for your phone as you pushed your laptop away, calling the first number on your speed dial.

“P-P-Peter,” you whispered when he answered.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t even get a few words out before you burst into tears.

“I’m walking down the hallway right now, I’ll be there in a few seconds.”

Soon enough, Peter walked into the apartment, throwing his briefcase down and rushing over to you. He didn’t say anything, just held you in his arms while making soft shushing noises into your ear. Once you calmed down enough, Peter pulled back, wiping away the saltiness on your cheeks and smoothing your hair from your face.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

You let out a shaky sigh, still trembling from crying. “This customer on the phone was being difficult, and he yelled at me and called me some names, and it only made me think of my mom, and…”

Your breath became labored, and Peter shushed you again, pulling you to him. Peter pressed his lips to your hair, your tear-stained cheeks. He rubbed his hands over your arms and your back, trying to smooth away the anxiety.

This time, your sigh came out calm and eased. You wrapped your arms around Peter’s neck. “Thank you,” you whispered. “You always know what to do.”

Peter pulled you away so he could see your face, staring into your eyes, still sore from crying. “It will be okay. It’s one step at a time. You just have to keep holding on.”

He kissed you, hands cradling your jaw, and there was no place you felt safer.

#peter sutherland #the night agent #fanfic #peter sutherland fanfic #peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland x you #fanfiction #gabriel basso

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alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody · 1 year

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Ohhh I'm curious what kind of "might be the end times" N/J are living in? And how did that relationship weight happen/when did they individually notice it happening?

they are living in the “we’re nearing the final prediction of an apocalypse theory that has accurately predicted a bunch of other stuff so far” kind of end times! it’s alt-2016 and there are weird signals coming in from space and nobody really knows what’s going on but given the apocalypse theory … it probably isn’t good! N is kind of resigned to it, like, whatever happens happens. if the world ends he’s off the hook for student loans. J is having a much more difficult time with it. he is very much in the camp of “how am I supposed to keep doing my silly little job and my silly little tasks when the WORLD might be ENDING?” he is also learning that he has an anxiety disorder but that’s a different story.

(not that it’s abnormal to be anxious when all manner of apocalyptic bullshit is going on! I myself am anxious All The Time! but he’s realizing as all this stuff is happening that perhaps his massive uncontrollable spirals about it are not … normal?? I honestly think he might eat about that too but rn we are focusing on the happy stuff!!)

but anyway, N and J have been together for 2-3 years at this point. J was a little chubby when they got together, but he also wasn’t much for cooking so a lot of times in the pre-N era he would just make himself a packet of ramen and call it a day. but once he and N move in together, there is So Much Food all the time. N isn’t just making something for dinner, he’s making an entree and sides and bread and dessert and he’s making a little cheese plate for J to snack on while he finishes up work or watches N cook. N also buys a lot of snacks and J is the kind of person who will just eat if there’s food around whether he’s hungry or not, so it, uh, doesn’t take long.

putting the rest under a cut as it got … long … but pls feel free to ask more oc questions!!

J is a very empirical evidence kind of guy so when his pants start getting harder to button and his waistbands start folding under his belly and his shirts start getting tight around his upper arms, he starts paying attention. it’s not a huge shock given how much he’s been eating, but he’s still kind of surprised by how fast his jeans go from “a little snug but wearable” to “I have to unbutton these if I want to sit comfortably at my desk.” (never mind the always-surprising “even my sweats are getting tight now?”) so he finally takes stock and is like, “welp, time to size up!” bc there is no way he’s giving up or cutting back on N’s cooking. could he exercise? sure. is he realistically gonna get up at 5am to accompany N on his morning run? absolutely not. he’ll just buy new clothes.

N notices that J is putting on weight first though. he’s been on the lookout since the first time he cooked dinner for J and J ate three helpings and was like, “oh man, I’m going to get so fat if you cook like this all the time.” to which N was like, “... that’s … fine!” while internally combusting. he enjoys cooking and baking for the actual activity, but he also likes having an excuse to shower people with food for … reasons. when they first started dating he was very “oh no 😇 I accidentally 😇 made 4 dozen cookies 😇 whatever will i do with them 😇?” he notices first that J’s belly is starting to press against his t-shirt and that he can see a couple stretch marks beginning to bloom down his sides. N is taller so he doesn’t have many excuses to ask J to get stuff off high shelves but J likes to do big stretches after a long day of hunching over in his desk chair, so N gets some good looks at how his stomach is starting to shelf over his waistbands. little by little he watches J’s belly button indent emerge beneath his t-shirts. J gains enough in his hips and thighs that N can tell he’s filling out their kitchen chairs a little more. the backs of his thighs are starting to dimple and his upper arms are getting so perfectly, squeezably chubby and it’s taking everything he’s got not to get too handsy and give himself away. he wants to FEEL IT! he wants to EXPLORE! especially since the bulk of J’s gain is from food HE COOKED. he wants the hands-on experience of how much he’s helped J overindulge!

he grinds his teeth and tries to be normal about it until J brings it up, which sort of backfires but also sort of works out because J has his own theories that N likes it and starts making offhanded comments about his gut getting bigger and “maybe I should start hitting the gym” to smoke him out. (J is a queer computer nerd who almost certainly had a traumatic time in middle school PE, he is not going to the gym.) N comes clean and J is very chill with it. he’s gonna keep enjoying N’s food anyway, he might as well have fun teasing him while he does it! he gets a lot of mileage out of it. ate too much at a work function? he can tease N by telling him how much he ate while getting a belly rub and “forgetting” to stifle his burps. got weighed at a doctor’s appointment? he’s gonna whisper that number into N’s ear while they’re making out later. out of breath bc the work elevator is broken and he had to take the stairs? might as well leave N a voicemail so he can hear how out of shape he is. tipsy after drinks with his coworkers? the only cure is cuddling with N and asking him to feed him the pizza J impulse-ordered on his way home. had a big meal and now all of his pants are a little too tight on his belly? time to sprawl on the couch and let his belly hang out unencumbered while he groans and whines about how he knew he was overdoing it, but it was too good to stop. helping N in the kitchen? his belly’s so heavy, guess he’ll have to just rest it on the countertop. none of it is kinky for him but he’s having a GREAT time nonetheless. turning N on is the real reward. (N is in feedist hell but also feedist heaven. never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for a boyfriend who’s not only cool about his kinks, but is also so enthusiastic about indulging them.)

J puts on 60-70 pounds over the course of their first year together — the first half go on pretty quickly and the second half more gradually — and retires his outgrown t-shirts to wear around the house for N to appreciate. he plateaus around there for the most part but slowly gains a little more as their relationship progresses, and he always gets a little heavier around the holidays while N tests out recipes and bakes a metric fuckload of cookies for everyone they know. at family gatherings J tells everyone who makes a comment about his weight or aims a pointed look at his belly that N is such a great cook and is keeping him so well-fed and gives his belly a little pat or a jiggle. it gives N the vapors. (later J shows him some pictures from college and casually drops that he’s gained almost a hundred pounds since then. N is going to think about that for a LONG time.)

he grinds his teeth and tries to be normal about it until J brings it up, which sort of backfires but also sort of works out because J has his own theories that N likes it and starts making offhanded comments about his gut getting bigger and “maybe I should start hitting the gym” to smoke him out. (J is a queer computer nerd who almost certainly had a traumatic time in middle school PE, he is not going to the gym.) N comes clean and J is very chill with it. he’s gonna keep enjoying N’s food anyway, he might as well have fun teasing him while he does it! he gets a lot of mileage out of it. ate too much at a work function? he can tease N by telling him how much he ate while getting a belly rub and “forgetting” to stifle his burps. got weighed at a doctor’s appointment? he’s gonna whisper that number into N’s ear while they’re making out later. out of breath bc the work elevator is broken and he had to take the stairs? might as well leave N a voicemail so he can hear how out of shape he is. tipsy after drinks with his coworkers? the only cure is cuddling with N and asking him to feed him the pizza J impulse-ordered on his way home. had a big meal and now all of his pants are a little too tight on his belly? time to sprawl on the couch and let his belly hang out unencumbered while he groans and whines about how he knew he was overdoing it, but it was too good to stop. helping N in the kitchen? his belly’s so heavy, guess he’ll have to just rest it on the countertop. it isn’t kinky for him but he’s having a GREAT time nonetheless. turning N on is the real reward. (N is in feedist hell but also feedist heaven. never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for a boyfriend who’s not only cool about his kinks, but is also so enthusiastic about indulging them.)

#ocs #n/j

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