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luveline · 2 years

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. now friends, you, eddie and junie take a trip to the city. queue oreos with double the cream, a sock related mishap, a display of strength, storybooks, matching pajamas, a velveteen rabbit and a tray of cupcakes to eat on the drive home [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, eddie’s mom implied to have passed away, mention of past falsely presumed self-harm (not graphic, just baby eddie scratching a rash and wayne worrying), hair tourniquet + intense panic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie doesn't mean to come knocking. He's staring at the ceiling with an open tray of Oreos on his chest, chewing through the boredom of a Monday evening and the pain of an aching back when he thinks of you and Junie.

Toddlers like cookies, right?

He shoves his socked feet into poorly laced converse and turns out all the lights as he leaves. The door slams shut behind him, a rattling of metal ringing into the crisp night while he takes his steps two at a time.

He starts up the street to your trailer and slows as your home comes into view. The lights are on, the curtains open. You stand in the middle of the room with your eyes closed, stretching to one side with your arms held high above your head. He can see the moment your back pops, see the tension of the day slip away just slightly. The exposed stretch of your tummy shines in the light.

You say something to Junie. He decides to stop acting like a stalker and bumps up your steps, hesitating at the door with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

What the fuck was he going to say? Hey, guys, I brought a half-eaten tray of cookies. Um. Because I missed you both? Sorry if that's weird?

"What kind of loser…" he scathes. He doesn't finish, bringing his hand to the door and knocking with a haphazard explanation waiting on the tip of his tongue.

You open the door a short few seconds later. You smile wide, wide enough to open the yawning gap in his chest all over again. Tonight when he goes home he'll have to close it like he has to so often lately after seeing you. Pretend his feelings for you – whatever they are – are smaller, less terrifying.

"Eddie," you say, and the gap stretches with how you say it, fond and warm and breezy. "Hey, where's your jacket? It's too cold to walk over here without one."

He doesn't have to explain himself at all, as it turns out. You open the door and step aside to let him past.

He grins at you. "Thought I'd brave the great outdoors without any armour."

You nod like it isn't all nonsense to you and maybe it isn't, maybe being friends with him is clueing you in to all his fantastical lingo. He likes you more for it either way, especially when you say, "You need a healing potion. It's freezing."

You're embarrassed at your attempt. Eddie can't believe how cute you are, lost for words and flailing. His chest warms with affection.

Junie saves you both, whizzing down out of the nest of pillows where she'd been buried on the couch and across the room with surprising speed and accuracy, barrelling for his knees. He grins as she wraps herself around them and starts talking.

It's mostly unintelligible until she says, "Hi! Hi, Eddie!"

He hugs her back with his hand. "Hi, Junie. Good evening."

"Good," she manages in return. She's all but mastered good morning and afternoon but evening continues to elude her.

"What were you watching? Your Muppet Babies?" He looks at the screen to find Kermit, the green frog, singing a song. "Been doing some singing practice for the band?"

"You want coffee?" you ask. Aforementioned healing potion. "I have decaf."

"I brought cookies."

"Warm milk it is," you declare, disappearing behind one of the kitchen cabinets.

Your bravado makes him laugh.

He finds his attention stolen once again by your lovely daughter when she complains, glaring up at him fiercely and coveting his hand. He balances the Oreos on your table by the door and offers her both, naked of their usual rings bar one.

Junie drags him over to her pillows and tries to climb back up. She refuses to let go of his hand, making it an insurmountable feat. Eddie awes at her efforts and helps her back into the nest, hands closing around her small waist and lifting.

He drops her into the pillows with just enough roughness to garner a laugh. "Sorry, my hands slipped. Hey, what's going on here, junebug? This isn't your usual hangout."

"I felt bad because she's always on the floor," you call from the kitchen. He can see your hands and your torso through the gap of countertop and cabinets. You pour milk into a pan on the stovetop and tap your fingers against the handle frenetically. He wonders if you're anxious about something.

Junie whines until Eddie sits next to her. As soon as he's situated she takes his hand again insistently and turns her attention to the television. He rubs the soft, small back of her hand with a less soft thumb and peers down the way at you.

"She loves the floor,” he says.

"I know," you mumble ruefully. A tad theatric. He must be rubbing off on you. "I had to bribe her into sitting on the couch."

"Yeah? What's the tab?"

"A few dozen kisses and all the pillows from my bed."

"Shame it wasn't half a tray of cookies."

"I think those might help me out."

After you've poured the milk into two tall glasses, you admit to him in a smaller voice that you're not sure if Junie likes Oreos.

"'Cos they're bitter?" he asks.

Milk in hand, you sit in the free seat next to Eddie and try not to sound as embarrassed as he knows you're feeling when you say, "She's never had them."

"I'll bring chocolate chip next time."

You shake your head vehemently. "You don't have to bring anything, ever."

"I like sugar."

You smile at him like you know he's trying to make you feel better, a touch shame-faced. He smiles at you in return and hopes it shows how much it doesn't matter – bringing snacks with him when he visits is hardly a generosity. You're friends.

He keeps trying to have that conversation with you, about sharing and money and all that terrible, embarrassing hardship that isn't embarrassing whatsoever but the words taste like chalk in his mouth.

Instead, he offers the hand that hasn't been stolen by Junie to you for a glass of milk. "One of those for me?"

You pass it to him.

"Why'd you feel bad? You're not forcing her," he says as he takes a sip.

"You don't think it looks cruel?"

"No way. She's one of the happiest babies I've ever met, who cares if she lies on the floor?"

"How many babies do you know?"

"One."

You're laughing when you say, "I don't know. I think it's a habit. But we have a couch, so she should sit on it."

Eddie retrieves the Oreos. Junie watches curiously as he peels open the tray, four rows, two empty and two full of black and white cookies.

He takes one and passes it to you without looking at you. Eye contact gives you the opportunity to reject it.

When he's heard the soft crunch of your first bite, glass of milk between his knees, Eddie holds an oreo up purposefully and twists. "See, Junie?"

He licks a big stripe over the vanilla cream. The cream spreads edge to edge as he pushes both sides back together. Softened by a generous dip in milk, he eats the cookie in one vagabond bite.

"You wanna try?" he asks when he's done.

Big hands over her small ones, Eddie shows her how to twist an Oreo open. She brings the cookie with the least of the cream to her mouth and bites it. Her pout wobbles in mild disgust. Eddie tries not to laugh.

She has to like Oreos. They're a staple.

"Let me show you," he says gently, taking the cream heavy side out of her hands. Dark crumbs stain his fingers as he holds it up to her face. "You gotta lick it."

She doesn't want to, evidenced by her wrinkled nose and untrusting gaze.

"You'll have to do it for her," he tells you gravely.

Moving to kneel in front of him, you take the oreo out of his hands and lick it before stealing back the half of the cookie Junie had been munching on and squishing them back together. You dunk her sandwich in milk and press it to her lips until she deigns to take a small bite.

"Yummy?" you ask.

She takes the cookie back, a mess of dark black mush collecting at the corners of her mouth as she eats it.

You gaze up at him from the floor. Your eyes look damn pretty, more so when he offers the tray to you, your smile a beacon. "I haven't had Oreos since I was a kid," you say excitedly.

"Do they taste like you remember?"

You rest your hand on his knee and lean in. "They need more of the filling," you say secretively.

"Yeah?" Eddie's in motion, twisting one oreo apart and then another. He takes the halves with the most cream and pushes them together.

One oreo, twice the cream.

You giggle as he passes it to you. "Oh my god." You're giddy, arm heavy on his thigh.

You eat it like it's something crazy expensive, all smiley and indulgent. You look so pleased that he immediately starts to make you another.

"Eddie," you protest, covering your mouth, "don't, don't waste them."

"I won’t waste them. I like the cookie more than the cream,” he lies.

"Oh."

You finish your oreo. Eddie can’t find it in himself to be modest about it; you’re smiling and it’s his doing and that fills him with pleasure.

He watches you mistreat his jeans as you chew the second, your fingers pulling distractedly at the rips. You tuck your hand underneath, white threads tensing over your knuckles and fingerprints brushing over his kneecap, your entire face cringing as a thread snaps from the pressure.

Eddie looks away quickly. He can feel your eyes on him and has to bite back a smile as you assess if you’ve been caught.

You could ruin them completely for all he cares.

Junie makes happy noises beside him. She’s realised the middle of the Oreo is the sweetest and has split one open in her hands. A terrible mess ensues, cocoa powder fingerprints smattered over the pillows she’s buried in and vanilla cream marring her nose in a sticky line.

“Could you make any more of a mess for your poor mom?” he asks. The rhetoric is lost on her; she says something cheerful and holds her hand out for another cookie.

Her face — expectant, small, cute, all of it evokes an uncontrollable urge to do whatever it is she wants him to do.

“Is that, like, a kid thing?” he asks.

You pull your fingertips away from his skin and cock your head. “What?”

He splits an oreo and offers Junie the cream-heavy half, clarifying through a mouthful of dark cookie, “Following her every command.”

You sit at full height. He instantly misses the heat of your front to his knees, the way you’d draped yourself over him familiarly, and is wondering how he might begin to convince you to do so again as you think it over.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It might just be a Junie thing, but I guess that’s immature to think. S’pose it’s hormones or something. Like when cats meow.”

He giggles at you. Hormones? Cats?

“What?” you ask, half defensive, half sheepish.

“I just- I love it when you talk like that.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs and takes another pull of milk to think of a way to say, Well, when you’re tired you get nonsensical, and it’s charming how confident you are but hard to follow without offending you. Is there a way to say that without offending you? Or worse, without revealing every wretched feeling he has for you?

“I sounded pretty stupid,” you summarise.

“No! Never. I love that you think like that. That you’d think about cats meowing.”

“They do it to manipulate us,” you explain.

He can almost see the heat of an embarrassed flush radiating off of your cheeks, the press of your lips so endearing he almost leans forward to feel it. He can imagine it, his thumb over your mouth, the pad pulling down your bottom lip.

There’s an arrogance in thinking you’d let him.

“Jungle cats, tigers and lions and stuff, they don’t meow,” and you’re still going! He has to cover his mouth with his hand to stop from bursting. “Because they don’t need to. They have no idea what a baby sounds like, and they don’t need us to take care of them so they’ve never learned how to meow. Babies are like that. We hear them crying and we want it to stop.” You have a smile on your face that says, I don’t know if what I’m saying is true, but I’m gonna pretend it is. Pretend with me?

Eddie’s all about pretending. “Cats are master manipulators,” he eggs you on, "but you realise not everyone wants babies to stop the way you do? Some people just don’t like babies.”

“That’s okay. More babies for me.” You lean out to tap his forehead. “Touch wood.”

“What?” he asks.

“Touch wood,” you repeat. “I don’t actually want more babies right now, don’t wanna jinx myself by saying it, so I had to touch wood. You don’t have that superstition?”

“Are you saying my head is made of wood?”

Your sudden laugh is stunning; he can’t bring himself to be offended.

When Junie's had more Oreos than she should've and the milk's all gone Eddie stands up before you can do it yourself and takes the empty glasses with him, putting them on the kitchen counter with a click.

He grabs an almost empty pack of wet wipes off of the top of the refrigerator and sits down next to Junie, talking fast in hopes of distracting her.

"I got a call last night," he begins, pulling a wet wipe from the pack and taking Junie's wrist into his hand. He doesn't use the wipe at first, tryimg to convince her that this is all affection. "The phone went ring ring," he rolls the sound around, "and I was thinking, who the heck is calling me so late?"

He plays up his outrage but keeps a huge smile in place as he works his thumb into Junie's palm, tickling in circles.

"So I answer the phone, and I say, who is this? And you know who it is?"

Junie waits, looking like she might be close to laughing. And he's just getting started.

Eddie takes a deep breath. "Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here! Is this Junie on the other end?"

What his impression lacks in accuracy it makes up in enthusiasm.

Her little mouth opens. He wipes the corners with the wet wipe and then her chin. "So I said, no, Mr. Frog, I'm Junie's neighbour. I'm Eddie.

"Kermit said, you can call me Kermit, thank you very much. Mr. Frog was my father."

You snort beside him. He tries not to look at you because he knows your happy face will stop him in his tracks, your laughter enough to make him smile and break character.

He squares his expression and begins again. "I need to talk to Juniper, it's very important." He wipes down her sticky hands, her stained fingers and palms, worse than smug when she doesn't complain and pull them away. "I said, I'm sorry Mr. Kermit but I can't put her on, she's all safe and snug in bed with her mom. And Kermit said, oh, okay. Well, please tell Junie this."

Junie's looking up at him, surprised, very pleased, practically wiggling in her seat. She's lovely. Just like her mom.

He doesn't want to do the voice for this part, struck with a sudden sense of awe. "She is… the smartest, most prettiest, loving little girl in the whole world."

Eddie beams at her and drops her damp hands. When he impersonates Kermit this time, he's trying as hard as he can. "I'd only like her more if she were green!"

You're clinging to sanity.

It's Wednesday, it's washing day, and you haven't managed a single load of clothes since you got home because Junie won't stop crying. This isn't new; babies cry constantly and toddlers aren't much different. But, it's been three hours. She's too old for colic.

Junie has screamed, she's sobbed, she's slapped her tiny hands into your chest. You know she doesn't mean to hurt you, she's just communicating her panic. That doesn't stop the growing distress.

You're terrified.

You've found yourself in tears, too.

"Just tell me, baby," you plead.

It's useless. She screams so loud her voice cracks, and you decide that nows the time. You have to go to the hospital.

You don't think you can let her go long enough to strap her into her car seat. Immediately, you think of Eddie. You don't even lock the door. The small walk to his house feels a block long.

He must hear her crying as you approach because the door swings open just as you mount the first step. You backtrack.

"I'm really sorry," you say quickly, knowing this isn't something he ever signed up for. "I don't know what to do, she won't stop and I think there's something wrong." Your voice wobbles.

There's a huge flash of something akin to the panic you're feeling over his face but he pushes it away, descending the steps two at a time. His hand immediately comes up to your shoulder, fingers curled into your shirt.

"Chill out," he says, more stern than you've ever heard him. It’s surreal to see him turn like that. Almost like he’s become one of his characters, the voices he does for Junie’s story books.

You take a ragged breath.

"I'm serious. You need to calm down. You understand?"

Junie gives a blistering shout and your face crumples. "Eddie," you say.

"Can I hold her?" he asks, softer.

You can see in his face that he isn't sure, that he's out of his depth, but you're so desperate for a life raft that you nod and squeeze your eyes closed, passing her into his waiting arms. Everytime she cries – every wicked intake of air and every subsequent bellowing sob makes your chest ache. You have a splitting headache. Honestly, you're worried you might fall over.

"How long has she been crying?" he asks, looking over her face and shoulders with a perplexed frown.

"Hours. At first I thought she was tired or- or hungry but I've tried everything, Eddie, everything."

"She was like this when you picked her up?"

You nod.

He pats her back, the other hand rubbing down one of her legs soothingly. "Did she hurt herself?" He's looking at you without an ounce of judgement.

"Not- not that I know of." You'd looked under her shirt and trousers already. She doesn't have a single bruise.

He starts to walk back towards your home. You don't follow at first and he reaches out to grab your arm, pulling you along as he says, "Come on, sweetheart. We'll go down to Hawkins general, yeah? Just to be safe."

"Yeah."

Junie screams. "It's okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, again and again and again. He doesn't hesitate, his voice velveteen.

His hand stays on your arm until you're by the car. He's never done a car seat before and you can tell: he tucks her into it with infinite care but can't work out how to do the buckles. You laugh wetly and then feel very guilty. wiping your face with one hand before ducking down to do them yourself. Junie glares at you as you do, still very much crying and now incensed at being strapped in.

You stand back to take her in and push your thumbs across her wet cheeks and under her snotty nose uselessly, feeling so sorry for her, so guilty. Why can't you work out what's wrong? Why can't you fix it?

Eddie stands by your side, waiting.

“You got it,” he encourages as you pull back. "You're okay."

You smile weakly and then narrow your eyes, the two of you seeing it at the same time – Junie reaching desperately for her sock.

You peel it off with shaking hands and feel another hot shock of tears. There, around one of her toes, is a tourniquet. The skin is swollen but looks unbroken, darkened by blood

You smile because Oh my god, this is what's wrong, and then you panic twice as much as you had before, because Oh my god, her tiny toe.

"Eddie, I need- I need something. I need a- a nail scissors or-" You drag your hands down your face, in the thick of it. Adrenaline or cortisol or something must race through your veins, your hands shaking with it.

Eddie pulls you back by the hem of your shirt. "We can't cut it away. You'll never get the blade under that- What is that? A hair?"

"Yeah. A hair."

A lightbulb moment. You brush past him and almost fall up the steps back into your trailer.

"Stay there," you say without any explanation.

You step over the mess you'd left behind and barrel into the bathroom, clipping your shoulder on the bathroom door and slamming onto your knees.

You're lucky you have it, a tiny pot of hair removal cream in an old makeup bag under the sink. Resisting the urge to kiss the lid, you rush back out to the car where Eddie holds one of Junie's hands in his. He looks an impossible mixture of worried and relieved when you reappear.

You elbow digs into his chest as you lean over, opening the cream and smearing a line over Junie's swollen toe. She whimpers and shouts and tries desperately to get out of the carseat and, to your devastation, away from you.

"What is that?" Eddie asks from behind you.

"A hair remover."

You wipe the delapitor clumsily into your only good jeans so you can take both of Junie's arms into your hands. She doesn't want to be touched but you need to be holding her, at least a little bit.

"How long does it take?"

"I'm not sure… Not long. If it doesn't work we'll still have to go to the hospital."

Eddie pushes his hands into the top of your back in answer, his fingers curling either side of your neck like he might give you a massage. You shudder as he pulls you against him, as his fingers trace an invisible pattern.

Junie looks up at you both. Her wounded expression loosens. Maybe she's realised that you've figured out her problem, maybe she's just glad to be looked at. Either way, she subdues.

The hair removal cream's acrid smell tickles your stuffed up nose. You sniffle and Eddie's fingers work into your neck lightly, a silent and unwavering It's okay.

You don't see the hair snap so much as you see the pressure wean. You smother a sob, your relief palpable as you pull your shirt sleeve down to cover your hand and wipe it away. Junie shrieks.

You take the hair between your nails and pull.

"Oh my god," you say, holding it up between you.

Everything feels a little bit hazy after that. Eddie rubs your shoulders placatingly before encouraging you away from the door so he can unclip Junie and pull her out of her car seat. He guides you away from the car and back into your trailer, over the mess and into the kitchen.

You sit heavily in a battered kitchen chair. Eddie stands in front of you, Junie on his hip and a frown warping his pretty features. She grizzles, less when he sets her down in your lap carefully.

"Is that okay?" he asks softly. Then, when you nod, "Are you okay? You look like you're gonna pass out."

"I don't feel well."

"No, I bet you don't. Take it easy."

You pull Junie's leg up to examine her foot. Her toes are covered in hair remover still. "Could you get me the baby wipes, please?"

"Sure can. It'll cost you, though." His joke falls a little flat. You try to smile anyhow, your little huff forcing a last tear. You blink until it's gone, aggravated with yourself.

After all, her toe looks better. Sore, still swollen, but better. Though you could just be seeing what you want to see.

Eddie tries to pass you the baby wipes but your hands are shaking too badly to take them. Without a word he opens the pack, kneeling on the floor in front of you to wipe down her foot tenderly. His eyebrows pinch together when she whimpers, and he murmurs a sorry, "I know, I know."

You're trying very hard to calm down.

"All done," he tells her, parentese in play. "You are so brave, junebug. You're the bravest little girl I've ever met. That's why me and your mom decided you were Juniper the Brave, and you proved us both right."

He taps the tip of a ring-heavy finger under her chin. You watch from over her shoulder. "Really brave. You did a good job, the best job ever," he praises, tilting his head to catch your eye as he says it.

You smile at him the best that you can. He holds your gaze for a weighted second and then drops it back to Junie. "Do you feel better?" he asks.

She doesn't answer, only tips her head against your chest.

Eddie pulls off her remaining sock and waves it at her. "Don't need this."

"Do you think she'll throw up if I make her some dinner?" you ask, the kind of question you don't usually get to ask someone else. A luxury to defer judgement.

"Maybe. Does it matter?"

"I don't want to clean up puke," you say pathetically.

Eddie softens. "I'll clean it up if she pukes. Don't worry about it."

You don't have to, you want to say. Of course he doesn't have to.

"Thank you," you say instead, feeling like you could burst into an entirely fresh wave of tears.

Again, he looks up at you. His smile fades from a cheesy exuberance to something sweeter, a melty-warm thing that has your breath catching.

"I'm really sorry for just showing up like that," you say tentatively, flushed with heat as you realise what you've done.

"Don't be."

"No, because she's- I know you never-" She's mine alone. You never signed up for this. You can't make yourself say it, distracted by his ever-growing smile. "I should've handled it on my own."

"Your mom really doesn't understand how much I like her," he tells Junie humorously, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "She doesn't have a clue. How much I like you," he adds, hand on your thigh, his finger stroking a line down the length of her leg.

"You didn't have to-" You try, stopping again as he huffs out of the side of his mouth.

His hand closes around your thigh. You can feel the heat of each of his fingers, the bulk of every heavy ring.

"It's okay. I promise," he says seriously.

"I got so freaked out, I just…" You give up. Whatever. He knows what you're trying to say. Hopefully.

Eddie leans forward to kiss your knee. His eyes close, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly over your thigh.

You blink to yourself in a vain attempt at processing what's just happened when he asks, "Do you still feel sick?"

"No.” Your chest burns.

"In that case, I'll make dinner. A feast."

Things start to feel better. Details sink in. Your heart slows. What was only Eddie behind the stovetop becomes his dark hair scraped up and wrapped in a hair tie, his sweatpants and unlaced shoes, his white t-shirt with sharpie writing all over. Sounds filter in; the spoon scraping the bottom of the saucepan and his frenetic humming, the sound of his rubber-bottomed cons squeaking over linoleum.

Junie doesn't cry so much as whine. You press kisses that are more for you than her into her hair and on her forehead, jogging your knee. She's fine. She's okay, and she's here in your lap, and there's nothing to panic over now.

You try to push away the lingering worry. In the moment, a million thoughts had coalesced into only one. What if she's dying? Meningitis, an aneurysm, cancer. Anything. And now those thoughts fall away, leaving behind only the sharp smell of the hair remover and the salty stick of tears.

"Do you think I have time to give her a shower before dinner?" you ask softly, clearing your throat for what feels like the twentieth time today.

"You got it. I'll simmer. You could have one, too, if you want."

"Do I look that bad?"

"Worse." He grins at your expression. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful as always, sweetheart."

You carry Junie into the bathroom. There's no tub and she's too big for the kitchen sink, so a shower it is. You stand her up under warm spray and turn her back so the spray misses her eyes. She smiles at the warm water running down her back. The relief to see her happy can't be understated. You hop in at the same time and clean her off, wash her hair, and bedeck her tiny features in big big kisses.

Wrapped in her baby towel – a pink poncho type thing with a hood – you walk her to the bedroom and dry her off as fast as you can.

"Which ones?" you ask, holding up two pairs of pajamas.

Junie points at the pink shirt and bottoms printed in bright red strawberries with light green tops, letting you dress her and plonk her at the end of the bed without any fuss.

"No socks for you," you say lightly, sitting beside her in your towel.

"No socks," she agrees.

Even though Eddie's been good to you, you can't help wishing that he wasn't here. What you want more than anything in that second is for Junie to be asleep and for your head to be wedged firmly under your pillow, the sheets to your shoulders, dead to the world.

Not truly dead, of course. But a minute of silence.

Junie doesn't seem to know what to do with herself, sitting in companionable silence and stillness with you. Her head falls onto your arm.

"Are you tired?" you ask quietly, too exhausted for bubbly talk.

She sighs. You sigh too.

Eddie hums from the kitchen.

He kissed my knee.

You think you might have imagined it, if you're honest. It could've been anything against your stockings, the brush off his palm or the back of a warm knuckle, but you'd seen it. His lips, his face turned toward your thigh.

"I think he likes me," you tell Junie.

She doesn't say anything. When you look down at her she's already looking up, eyes wide with confusion.

"He kissed me," you whisper, leaning down. "I don't know about you, junebug, but I only kiss the people I care about. For a long time, that's been a really short list." You bump your nose against hers.

You've just finished getting into your own pajamas when Eddie calls out, "Girls? I know ladies like yourselves need longer to get ready but the mac and cheese is acting weird."

"Weird?" you mumble, hooking your hands under Junie's armpits. You'd let her walk if you weren't worried for her foot.

Eddie has created a working man's feast, three identical plates heaping with food. Hills of mac and cheese topped with bacon bits take up half of each plate, fried broccoli and collard greens the other. They're golden, almost red with spices.

"You can cook," you say, surprised.

"Don't sound so shocked," he says defensively. He can only hold his facade for a moment, deflating. "I really can’t. I tried to copy what you do, I've seen it enough times…" He shrugs and flops down into his usual chair. "Don't tell me if it's gross."

"I doubt it's gross."

You can't be bothered for the high chair. Junie looks like she might be too tired to move so you take the chance and sit her between you and Eddie behind the smaller portion (though using small at all feels like a lie, he's made a lot of food). She can barely see over the table.

"Did you use two boxes?" you ask, picking up Junie's spoon.

It's all the perfect temperature for a baby, maybe a little cold for an adult. You're so happy to have somebody else cook for you that you'd die before you complained.

He taps his nose. You pass Junie her spoon.

"What do you mean?" You tap your own nose in imitation. "I'll know when I look."

"So don't look. Eat."

You eat. Without asking him too – because you wouldn’t, you never do – he starts to feed Junie.

He might be the nicest boy on this whole damn planet. You look at him thoughtfully. How come we always end up here? At the kitchen table?

He looks right. Too right. He looks like he’s meant to be here, smiling and talking to your baby in hushed, fond tones, airplaning roasted broccoli towards her mouth.

“You’ll stay to watch a movie?” you ask later, trying to hide how lethargic you are with your hands deep in dishwater.

Eddie wipes a fleck of water off of your cheek with a rag. "Duh."

On the couch, Eddie sneaks a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re pretending to watch the TV and doing a bad job, your attention stolen over and over by Junie where she sleeps in your lap. Your hand rubs over her small, distended tummy, the other holding her foot carefully. You keep glancing at her toe, much less swollen now and with a healthier complexion, though a cruel line remains from where the hair had cut into her skin.

You don't touch it, only looking. He worries as a wrinkle appears between your eyebrows.

Listening intently as he is, he can hear the hitch in your breath. Eddie doesn’t want you to cry again — the first time had been awful enough. Your face covered in tears, coming fast and panicked. It was like you’d hardly noticed you were crying. You’d been so scared that Eddie, despite knowing close to nothing about babies or how to make them feel better, had clung to his calm. He’d stomped down every flicker of panic that had surged and tried his damn best to keep a level head.

Now, with your sad face and the crisis averted, Eddie feels a pang of terror. Just one. You are completely out of your element, Munson.

You’re definitely the kind of friends now that can sit on the couch together and not care too much about personal space. Eddie uses this to his advantage and spreads his legs just enough to brush his thigh against yours. You look at him and hide your lingering upset with a small smile. It’s a far cry from the genuine happy grin he’s become familiar with, but you're still beautiful.

Eddie shuffles across the couch toward you until he can push his hand under your arm. He pulls it to his chest, beware of your tenuously sleeping daughter, and hugs it.

“I was thinking,” he starts casually, looking down at you.

Your eyes crease with a playful smile. “Oh yeah?” Like you can’t believe it.

“Yeah, I was,” he says, quiet so as not to wake Junie but extremely passionate. “What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

“Nothing." You laugh under your breath.

He glares, faux-offended. Any real offense is swallowed instantly by the sound of your laugh.

“Hm. Anyway, I was thinking,” he begins again, hand running down your arm in what he hopes is a soothing gesture, “that I’d head into the city this weekend. Go to the bookstore ‘n’ the big goodwill by the bus station. I was hoping you’d wanna come with me.” Is he pushing his luck? Maybe.

You look like you want to say yes, but, “Eddie, I don’t really have the money.”

“I’d pay.” He tries to sell it before you can protest. “I’m asking you to come. Stealing your Sunday. We’d leave early, get breakfast on the way. I don't want to go alone.” I want your company.

He tries not to show how terrified he is that you’ll say no.

“I can’t- I couldn’t let you pay for us,” you say, eyes on his chest.

“Can I tell you something?” You nod. “It would make me… really happy if you did.”

He doesn’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t think there’s a way to tell you that won’t involve unveiling his new and shiny feelings for you, feelings that don’t seem to want to slow, or abate, or moderate themselves. Honestly, he doesn’t want them to.

He wants you to be happy. He wants to take care of you.

It's embarrassing in its intensity.

You reach over Junie to wrap your hand around his bicep, though you still don’t look like you’re going to say yes.

He leans in close, tracing the details of your face with a greedy kind of curiosity. “You wouldn’t let me give you anything for the haircut,” he says. “It’s the same, you know? Doing things for the people you care about."

He says it like the idiot he is, all rough and insincere, like caring about people is dumb. You smile anyways and finally, finally, give him a nod. So small it’s near imperceptible.

“If you’re sure,” you say.

“Positive.”

Eddie looks good behind the wheel of your car. The wind whips at his hair, curls that had been neat and pretty only an hour ago now starting to frizz. You think the chaos of it suits him.

He’s singing along to the radio and it’s a song you don’t know. You don’t think Junie knows it either, but she’s signing it like she does, hands flailing in the air and Mr. Bear bouncing in her lap with the force of her dancing. Eddie looks at her in the rear view mirror, beaming brilliantly.

“Yeah, sing it, junebug!" he encourages. Her voice peaks.

You laugh and stretch your hands out in your lap, knuckles brushing the sandwiches you’d packed. You’d let Eddie pay for gas, you might even let him buy Junie a book from the bookstore if he’s feeling generous, but you’re really trying to keep his expenses low. Hence, sandwiches. Even now, the idea of him spending money on you makes you feel guilty.

Deep down – deep, deep down – you want him to. You’re hoping he’ll pick up a book for you, and that fills you with so much shame you have to look away from him, your face to the window. The highway blurs past, the early morning sun lighting the blacktop and bouncing between cars of all kinds coming into the city for a Sunday outing.

Eddie turns down the radio a tiny bit and reaches across the seat to squeeze your shoulder. “You alright?” he asks without looking at you.

You tip your head toward his hand. His rings bite into your cheek.

You’re in the car on a nice day with a nice boy and your pretty baby listening to the radio, the sun at your side and the breeze kissing your warm skin.

You’d even managed to find a nice shirt to wear. Today is a good day. You won't weigh it down with silly feelings.

“I’m great.”

He gives you that smile like he doesn’t believe you and his eyes go back to the road. “Can a guy get another sandwich or does he have to beg?”

You imagine what it might be like to lean over and kiss his cheek. He deserves a good kiss, you think, and then wince as heat blooms from your chest up to your cheeks. You can’t hold in a pleased smile as you click open the Tupperware.

“Do you want PB&J or bacon and lettuce?” The tomatoes have already been accosted by a ravenous Junie.

“I’ll have half of whatever you’re having.”

You weren’t going to have one, and you both know that. You offer him half the PB&J and he takes it, eyes flitting between you and the road. You take a showful bite to release him. He gives you a grateful smile in turn.

Chewing, you take half of the bacon and lettuce sandwich into your hands and pull it apart. You divide the contents and tuck half into one slice to make a quarter sandwich before leaning over the seats to offer it to Junie where she waits in her car seat. She accepts it hungrily.

One-handed, Eddie pulls the car off of the highway. “There’s a parking garage somewhere around here,” he tells you.

Once he's found it he jumps out to go pay. You turn in your seat and smile at Junie. She's mauling her sandwich, face smeared in butter.

"Are you ready for some fun?" you ask.

She looks at you curiously.

You try again, really smiling. "Are you excited? We're gonna go find a book, something fun like Red Cat, Blue Cat, and we're gonna see the stores and the people and maybe mommy can get you a new teddy."

A spark of something. She gets happy when you're happy and today's no exception, her tiny features soon plucked up with joy. When you round the car and open her door to wipe down her greasy fingers and face she barely cares, and she receives your loving kisses with a big smile.

Eddie returns with the parking ticket and slides it onto the dashboard. You leave Junie's door open now he's back to pop the trunk and unfold her stroller. The sound echoes through the parking garage and the sun struggles to find a way in, your arms wracked with goosebumps.

"Hey, junebug," you hear Eddie murmuring.

He messes with the buckles on her car seat until they pop open, his triumphant laugh almost as pretty as his face. Junie's is prettier, your daughter laughing up a storm as Eddie scoops her up and sits her on his hip.

He looks like he had when you first met but with ten times the confidence in holding her and a clear affection. Her hands are in his hair like usual, petting and pulling gently.

"Brush out the tangles for me," he tells her seriously, bumping the door shut.

She hums like she's agreed to his task and continues her exploring.

You hang the baby bag over the stroller's handlebar and Eddie sits her in the padded chair.

"Junie, have I told you how pretty you look today?" he asks, pulling the straps over her shoulders and from between her legs. He uses parentese like you would, distracting her as he locks her in. When the lock click, he plays affectionately with her hair. "You're like a princess. Your mom has talented hands, huh? And a good eye."

Pleasure from his compliment drips in thick and fast. You bite back a smile and squeeze the clean baby socks in your hands, waiting for him to stand so you can fight them onto Junie’s feet. Ever since her ordeal you’ve been waiting as long as you can before putting on socks and shoes. The first thing you do when you pick her up from daycare is take them off.

If Eddie thinks you’re overzealous in your fretting he hasn't said anything. He holds his hand out for the socks and you give them to him, nonplussed though you shouldn’t be as he bunches them up and pushes them over her wiggling feet with patience and bemusement.

“Stay still… Do you want frostbite? Or gangrene?” he asks her.

“Eddie.”

“Sorry." He looks at you guiltily. “In my defense, she doesn’t know what gangrene is.”

“It’s weird, though. To hear you say it like it’s a good thing. S’creepy.”

He squeezes the sole of one of her small feet and stands, much too close to you as he whispers cheerily, “Gangrene. Septicemia. Pneumonia.”

You laugh and push him away from you. “Shut up.”

“You first. Where’re her shoes?”

You procure them with a smug smile. “You’ll never get them on.”

His fingers brush yours as he takes them, his eyes blazing at the challenge.

“Will you sulk all day?” Eddie asks you.

The sulking is for show. You frown like you’re really angry and tighten your grip on the stroller, the wind ruffling your clothes. After a moment the facade falls away and you smile at him, unable to hide your reluctant affection any longer. “How did you get her to sit still like that? You vex me.” Said with equal parts envy and pride.

“I vex you,” he says, voice coloured by good humour.

He’s fallen into step beside you, your jacket tied around his waist.

You should bring your jacket. In case you get cold, he’d said.

I don’t want to carry it, you’d said.

Don’t patronise me.

You glance over the top of the stroller to make sure Junie’s blanket is still in place. She’s quiet. You’ve decided that she’s in shock to be somewhere that isn’t your home or the daycare.

“Yeah, you vex me. Infuriate me. I’ve been a mom for two years and I can’t get her shoes on without a fight, and you’ve been-“ You stop dead, stutter, and quickly adjust what you'd been saying like it has been a slip up of the tongue rather than a thought you shouldn't entertain. “You’ve known her for what, three months? And-“

“Four months,” he corrects, sounding much too proud.

“Four months,” you amend. “And you can do all this stuff that took me years to work out.” You’re a little bit vexed for real.

He nods like he’s considering what you’ve said before tipping his head. “But…”

You wait. He doesn’t further his point. “But what?”

“Well.” Eddie brushes something off of your arm. “I guess I have a great teacher, right?” His voice hikes up high and he steamrolls, “I just copy you. You didn’t really get to copy anyone.”

You feel something melty hot in your chest, another affection for Eddie to add to a growing list. “Oh.”

He takes your shoulder into his hand and you draw to a pause, his other hand pointing off into the distance. “There’s the bookstore.”

You follow his finger. Across a landscape of cobblestone, situated firmly between a Domino’s pizza place and a cafe with a peppering of metal wrought tables stands Morgan’s Books. To your surprise, it’s a glass-fronted building with a big clean sign made up of red, yellow, and blue. It's a children's bookstore.

Eddie has obviously tricked you. You turn to glare at him and find him very close. He doesn’t shy away and you try not to in return. You try, but something about his pretty mouth so close sends shocks like pins and needles to your hands and you have to keep walking lest you embarrass yourself. His hand falls from your shoulder and trails down your back. You swear you can feel even the last millimetre of his fingertip before it falls away.

You get a good look at the landscape ahead and your eyes narrow. Eddie almost bumps into you when you stop abruptly.

“What?” he asks.

"There’s, like, a thousand steps.”

“Gross hyperbole," he argues. A gap of quiet furthers your point; while you had been exaggerating, there are a lot of steps, and he needs time to take them all in.

“Is there a way around?”

“Don’t be dumb, sweetheart. You’ll grab June and I’ll carry the stroller.”

“It’s really heavy. Heavier than it looks.”

He grins like a fiend. “I’m strong.”

Junie’s more than happy to be released, less when you take her into your arms and won’t put her down. You help Eddie snap the stroller back up, indicating which lever to pull with the rubber toe of your converse. He kneels down to guide it into place and looks up at you swiftly afterward, self-satisfied and much too happy considering the task afoot.

“Maybe we should find another way.”

“Y/N,” he says, like your name is inherently funny, like a joke rolled around over his tongue, “I’m starting to get offended.”

You blow air out of the side of your mouth.

Eddie slugs the stroller under one arm and holds it tight with the other, giving you a very determined smile. “Ready?”

You balance the baby bag over one shoulder and start on the stairs. Junie's heavy but she’s a heavy you’ve grown used to, and she doesn’t complain enough to warrant any stress.

You’re impressed when Eddie takes each step at your pace and doesn’t break a sweat. “I thought you were a bus boy. What do you bus? Weights?” you ask incredulously.

He laughs. “I don’t bus weights, but amps are heavy, and I’m not a big shot. I don’t have any roadies to carry them for me.”

You feel terrible then for forgettting. Right. He plays music, you think. You’ve never once seen him play any music, on stage or at home. You’ve seen him play guitar over Junie’s leg to tickle her and tap out a rhythm when he’s heating up desserts in your kitchen, but you’ve never seen him play guitar for real.

“Is that going okay?” you ask, ignoring the small burn beginning to grow in your arms.

“Bussing? Sure. Why’d you ask?”

“Not bussing, music. I never ask- I’ve never asked you how it’s going.”

Eddie winces as the stroller starts to open and pulls it tighter under his arm. It takes him a few seconds to calibrate what you’ve said, and he’s quickly reassuring. “What? Why would you worry about that? You have enough to think about without adding my moonlighting at the Hideout.” He says the Hideout like it’s something to be looked down on. You almost trip up a step and Eddie can’t do anything but watch. “Careful," he begs.

You keep your eyes on your footing until you’re at the very top, worried you'll fall flat on your face and get Junie hurt.. Eddie comes up two behind you and puts the stroller down, wiping his hands together dramatically.

“Conquered. Great job, team. Especially you,” he says, poking Junie’s cheek.

She puts her arms out, vying for his attention now she’s had a taste. He raises his eyebrows at her and offers his arms. You hand her over eagerly, arms aching. You can’t imagine what his feel like.

“I care about it,” you say firmly. It rather than you, but it rings the same. “I want to know, Eddie, I swear. I’m sorry for not asking.”

He looks up from where he’d been making playful faces at Junie to stare at you. It’s not a mean stare, but it unnerves you all the same.

She pushes a hand into his hair like she always does and starts to try and pull her fingers through it. It’s knottier than usual because of the wind, and she struggles to make sense of it. His eyes fall to her tugging.

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly. You know it’s meant for you, even if he’s not looking at you. "If there was something worth telling you, I would’ve told you. I don't doubt that you care.”

You don’t feel better. “No, ‘cos-”

“Why are you so upset?” he asks genuinely.

You hadn’t realised your face revealed the extent of it. “Because we’re friends. You’re the- the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He smiles, sudden and wide. “I’m your best friend?”

“Like we’re twelve?” you deflect.

“Yeah, like we’re twelve.”

You ignore him and try to cool down. A hot flush attacks your skin as you stretch out the stroller and click the supports back into place, shucking off your baby bag to hang over the handlebar with a relieved sigh.

Eddie moves Junie to one side. You anticipate his touch before it happens, his free arm behind your back and pulling you to him. “We’re totally best friends. I’m your best friend,” he says smugly, hand curling around your shoulder. It’s a good hug, friendly and warm and heart-racingly close; you can feel his chest on your back, the curve of a pec through thin fabric.

You turn toward him indulgently but keep your head down. It’s so nice to be hugged that you can’t make yourself move away.

He rubs the top of your arm, the bump of his rings biting into your skin. “You don’t deny it?”

“No. I don’t deny it.”

“Hear that, June?” Again, he calls her June. Not Junie or junebug, June. You like the way he says it. “I’m your mom's best friend. I win.”

You nod happily, warm under his touch.

Wait. “What?”

“She likes me more,” he teases her childishly.

“Eddie!”

“What? Am I wrong?” He leans away from you and feigns confusion.

“Yes! Of course you’re wrong! That’s my baby. Give her to me right now." You join in on his melodramatics, grinning even as you continue, “How could you say that? Sicko."

“That got frosty quickly,” he grumbles, holding her away from you.

You move in to plaster Junie in kisses. Not apology kisses because you didn’t say anything wrong, but kisses all the same.

“Can I get in on one of those?”

You huff at him. He bursts into boyish laughter and holds his hands up. “Kidding!”

“Should we go?” Before you say something stupid.

Eddie carries Junie and you push the empty stroller until you're all looking up at the store's bright sign. "This is where you wanted to come?" you ask him, eyes falling to the window where a sign brags a children's reading nook and their Read Before You Buy promotion.

He shrugs. "Bookstore's a bookstore."

"No, this is for kids. We're never gonna find what you wanted in here. I doubt they have King of the Rings between Red Cat, Blue Cat and Pony Girl."

"King of the Rings," he repeats jovially.

"Whatever it's called."

He pulls a squirming Junie higher up the length of his chest, the fabric of his shirt rides up with her. You pull it down. You're flustered enough, his naked skin is the last thing you need.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure they'll have what I want," he says flippantly, pushing the door open with his elbow.

"If you're sure…" you say, following him in

The bookstore smells fancy. You breathe in the scent of plastic wrap and paper, your eyes searching over floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and pyramids of craft kits. Box sets of Enid Blyton and A. A. Milne sporting classic, whimsy spines are stacked in a towering and precarious looking arch. Signs on either side promise a children's wonderland inside. You follow Eddie around pen displays and jigsaw puzzles, ducking under the archway with an awed, "Oh, wow."

"Watch out," he warns quietly, taking a step down into the kids' reading nook.

You bump the stroller to the bottom of the steps and have to stop, amazed.

Junie is a picture of you as Eddie sets her down, gazing around the room in shock. There's a lot of older kids scattered throughout on big circle pillows with books in their laps and a guardian beside them, but the real wonder is in the decoration. The walls are bedecked in murals; Kermit and Funnybones, The Very Busy Spider and the mouse from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Junie sees Kermit on the walls and gasps, running up to the painting with wide eyes.

Eddie follows her without saying anything. When he catches up to her, he offers her his hand. She takes it. She's practically shouting, their joined hands restless as excitement courses through her in waves.

You find two big pillows and a couple of books for Junie to look at. The three of you take to an empty corner and sit, looking over a big picture book full of stills from The Muppets Take Manhattan. Junie makes a lot of excited sounds and nonsense words, talking very confidently though half of it's lost on you both.

"Kermit," she says, pointing at the page passionately.

You wrap your arms around her tummy to keep her comfortable and hum. "Yeah, baby. Kermit, Miss Piggy, Gonzo. They're going to New York," you start to describe the page.

Eddie leans in, his arm pressed to your arm, his skin a heat where it rubs into you as he helps hold open the book.

The further you read the closer he gets.

Junie gets bored quickly, like toddlers tend to, and wants to go look at the walls again. Eddie stays with the stroller and you pick her up to let her touch her hands to the characters.

"That's Spot," you tell her quietly, her fingertips brushing over flat fur. "Spot the doggy."

Junie's never read anything Spot before. He's a popular character. There's three picture books to choose from. You pick up the first, Where's Spot? and offer it to her.

She likes the look of him. You carry her back to your pillows and struggle to sit back down in the tight gap between the wall and Eddie's knee. He stretches his arms out to take her. .

"What'd you find, sweetheart?" he murmurs as he balances her on his thigh.

He reads to her. He has the voice for it, soft and sweet.

"We had sandwiches," you argue, two hours and what feels like fifty stories later.

Eddie had known before he suggested it that you were gonna fight him on this. He’s managed to end up behind the stroller, weaving between unlucky bystanders as his eyes search for somewhere to eat.

“And they were awesome."

“Eddie,” you complain softly.

He peeks at you by his side, grinning at the plastic bag full of books you’d insisted on carrying where it dangles from your fingers.

You take his smile for teasing and sigh. “Come on. I’ll make dinner when we get home.”

“Sweetheart, as much as I love your cooking that’s hours away. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy. Look, there’s a McDonald’s right there,” he says, pointing toward the yellow ‘M’ sign where it flickers, breaking up a white sky.

“I’m not hungry,” you say. He senses your proposition before you offer it. “But if you wanna get food, that’s fine.”

“You don’t like McDonald’s?” he asks.

“I’m really not hungry.”

“Just think of it like- like using the bathroom before a long car ride. You might not need to, but it’s never a bad idea.”

Inside of McDonald’s, Eddie can tell how unhappy you are, your eyes drifting to the menu and your fingers squeezing both handles of the plastic bag.

He parks Junie’s stroller next to a low table and you slide into the booth beside her. He doesn't sit right away.

“You remember what I said?” he asks quietly, leaning on the table with one arm, head inclined to yours.

Your eyes flicker between his face and his arm. You measure his gaze “Doing things for the people you care about,” you say, equally hushed.

Eddie reaches out to squeeze your wrist. “Exactly.” He tries not to squeeze too hard in case his rings dig into your skin.

When you smile, he grabs the high chair and transfers one unhappy toddler into its constraints. There's a little basket of crayons and colouring papers near the registers that you plunder while he orders. By the time he gets back with a greasy tray of food and drinks Junie's made a masterpiece.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he asks brightly.

Of course it isn't – there's a shock of blue and a red blob almost shaped like a heart next to the dark printed outline of Ronald McDonald. It's worth the risk of sounding like an idiot because you start to laugh so hard you can't scold him for the desserts.

After wiping down the highchair's tray with a baby wipe, you peel open Junie's cheeseburger and start to break it into small pieces, blowing on each one vigorously before passing them over. You're about to start on fries when Eddie flicks your hand.

"Eat," is all he says, swiping her fries out of your reach to copy your process.

Tray laden with an abundance of bite-sized fast food, she grabs a cheesy looking slice of burger and screams loudly.

Eddie gawps. "What was that? Is it too hot?"

You swallow a sip of your drink and the cup sheds condensation like a spattering of raindrops when you put it down. "I think she's having a really good day," you say..

"Well fu-" he amends his cuss word quickly, "-dge, me too, junebug. Best day out ever. We got books, burgers, and I'm with my two favourite girls."

It might have sounded more romantic if he hadn't said it around a mouthful of big mac. You look almost as happy as Junie does anyway,

When Junies just about finished you carry her off into the ladies to change her diaper and freshen up. You have a baby in one arm and a bag full of diapers and bottles and onesies in the other, and you stare into the mirror and can't work out Eddie's angle.

Eddie is loud and crude and clumsy. He smells like his close friend Mary Jane half the time and he doesn't know how to style his hair. He laughs loud, sings louder. Almost everything about him is unapologetic and brash, his dark looks and ripped up clothes, his van, his smile.

And he's nice. He's so nice. Down to the bone, maybe down to his soul, there's a kindness that floors you every single time. He smiles and he squeezes and he says sorry for things that aren't his fault. He helps without being asked. How many times now has he knocked the door, found you kneeling on the living room floor folding clothes and thrown himself opposite you? Bet you I can do double what you've done in five minutes flat. Or stationed himself at Benny's for lunch to check you're having a good day? Here's five for the pretty waitress I saw earlier, make sure she gets it, won't you? How many times has he, hair limp and clothes rumpled, burst beaming into the kitchen with enough dessert for a family of five and a gallon of juice? Why wouldn't I get a gallon? Junebug'll have drank half by the time you sit down, sweetheart.

You look at yourself in the mirror and you can't work out why.

"Hi, girls," Eddie says when you return.

He's cleared off the table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Like this, the lean trim of his waist is emphasised, as is the slight curve to the tops of his thighs.

"Hi," Junie says. You echo her greeting.

"D'you have fun? Powder your noses?"

"Can't you tell?" you ask. You did not powder your nose.

He straightens up and peers at you assessingly. "Definitely. S'like you got prettier, and I thought it was impossible." His voice is sugar sweet by the end, attention on Junie. She's aching to be put down and writhing in your grip, but his voice catches and holds her attention until you're back outside.

It's cooler. The air cleaner. You put Junie down and clasp her hand firmly in your own, bending at the waist to tell her face to face, "No running off, alright? You hold mommy's hand tight." You squish her little fingers until she giggles. "Okay?"

"Okay," she says.

"Okay, thank you." Then, because she looks so sweet and this has been one of the best days of your life, "I love you."

You kiss her cheek.

Eddie won't let you push the stroller. "You concentrate on little miss trouble," he says mildly, kicking the brakes with a frown. "I got this. Maybe."

Half a block to the goodwill. It's not as big as you'd expected but there's a fun furniture section that draws Junies attention. You're reluctant to let her climb on the furniture in case anything is dirty or infested, though you do sit her in a wicker chair for a tree swing and a huge velvet loveseat like she's goldilocks, asking, "How's that? Comfy?"

Hidden away, there's a bookshelf painted green and pink that threatens to topple over hiding a grandfather clock still ticking. You lift Junie up so that the three of you can look at the clock face, a small silver disk with illustrations on either side. A gorgeous swelling of purples and melty blues in a ring behind the man in the moon. The sun, a buttery yellow buffeted by white-blue clouds.

"Grand," Eddie praises.

"What did you want to come here for?"

He grins at you and nods his head to the left. "It's over there."

'It' ends up being a clothes rack longer than your trailer home partitioned by size. Every t-shirt different but bragging the same premise – band merchandise. A riot of rock bands peppered in popular duo's like Tears for Fears and the occasional Cyndi Lauper tour shirt, each one sticking out like a sore thumb; a rainbow array besides faded blacks and slate greys.

"Why'd they have so many?"

Eddie shrugs, though he tries to explain his theory anyways. "There's a venue maybe… four blocks away? That has these vendors outside all the time shelling knock-offs."

"So these are knock-offs?"

"Most of them. They're usually in good condition though."

He's right. You find all kinds of shirts in varying qualities. Some obviously real, thick fabric and perfect prints. He picks up a Judas Priest tour shirt that he claims to be the real deal, a Metallica long sleeve that most certainly is not. There's a Twisted Sister shirt with a mysterious brown stain and a Ghoulie Girls muscle tee that's almost completely split down one side.

You shuffle through the things in your size, absent-minded. Junie's not interested in the slightest and is starting to complain. You fend off an oncoming tantrum with a pack of fruit snacks, offering them to her one at a time.

Eddie whistles where he's standing a short distance away, "Oh, fuck."

He unhooks a hanger and holds it out, amazed. "Oh, shit."

"Eddie," you chastise. Not because you care, but Junie saying either of those words at daycare would suck.

"Sorry, sorry. You like these guys, right?" He holds up a t-shirt for The Mamas and The Papas, a group from the sixties. It looks new.

It's the only cassette you own where you can stand to listen to both sides all the way through. "Yeah. Like Cass Elliott's stuff more."

"Who's that?"

You point at Elliott on the shirt. "Her."

"Guess how much they want for it," he demands.

You think. Junie whines for another snack and you give her the packet. "Ten dollars?"

"A dollar." He passes the shirt to you so you can see it for yourself and leans down to bundle up your sighing daughter. She can't decide whether she's enjoying it for a good few seconds, her annoyance at being somewhere this underwhelming for so long clear but fading as Eddie shushes her gently. "Isn't that sick?" he asks you.

"It would be sick, if you liked them."

He shrugs. "I'll wear it as pajamas. A dollar for a shirt? You can't steal it that cheap."

You laugh and drop it into his basket. He bumps his shoulder into yours until you move down the rack, his fingers searching for something with focus. You're in awe at how he's handling it, a basket heavy in the crook of his elbow and Junie on his hip trying to share her fruit snacks with him unsuccessfully.

"Ah-ha!" He pulls out a black t-shirt. The back to you, you can't tell what's so interesting about it until he flips it around. "What do you think?"

It's the same The Mamas and The Papas shirt.

"You want?" he asks.

You check the price tag before answering and find yourself laughing gleefully, almost smug. "Hey, this one's fifty cents."

He gasps. "What?"

"I can afford that one myself."

He pulls it out of your hand, quick but not cruel, and tucks it into the basket. "Don't care. Wanna see if they have one in Junie's size?"

"They won't."

"What about a small and we cut the excess off? She can wear it like a dress. We'll all match."

Eddie picks up a bunch of t-shirts for you, some funny, a lot plain bad. You wonder if you're being made fun of but from the gleeful expression on his face you know he's just having a good time. It's sweet, really, how he seems to pick the more feminine looking ones for you. You try your best to calculate how much he's spending on you – it feels tacky and silly, but urgent – and end up losing the thread. He must've passed ten dollars by now. It makes you feel sick.

You see your saving grace across the way.

"Oh my god!" you feign surprise. Both Eddie and Junie look up at you, startled. "You know what mommy just saw?"

Junie perks up.

"What did I just see? What did mommy see?" you encourage.

"What?" she asks.

"I saw… teddies!"

"Mr. Bear?" she asks.

You beam at her. "Mr. Bear's brothers and sisters, I think. Should we go look at them?"

She says yes and then something else you don't catch, squirming aggressively to be put down.

Eddie says, "Sorry sorry sorry," and lets her down gently.

She snatches your hand and starts to tug you away. You glance over your shoulder to make sure Eddie's following you and he is, a melty-warm smile on his face. You navigate the store floor and almost knock down a bucket of hats with the stroller on the way to the teddies. There's a few of them, all lined up in a row next to jigsaw puzzles and old board games.

"I didn't think this through," you say, watching as Junie picks through the teddies with a huge smile on her face. She starts to hug them towards her and you try not to cringe.

"You can scrub her when we go home," Eddie assures you leaning against the stroller, hair behind his ears.

You grab the end of a curl and pull it back in front of his face, messing with it until it falls the way you want it to. He stays very still. "I might need to de-flea her."

He laughs and it's a shock, an abrupt sound that makes your chest ache with fondness.

"You might. I got some tea tree oil lying around somewhere if you need it," he says.

"And if she gets dermatitis?"

His grins turns embarrassed. "I don't know what that is."

"It's like-" You tilt your head to the side to mimic his own and drop your hand from his hair. "It's gross. Like a bad rash."

"Oh, then we'll give her a tomato soup bath."

You burst into laughter and have to grab his arm to stop from toppling over, or at least that's what you tell yourself. "That's for skunks," you manage to tell him, giggling loudly.

"Shit, really?"

You nod at him, wanting to kiss the sheepishness straight off of his lips. "You're thinking of an oats bath," you say. "Oats are good for the skin. And milk."

"So we just rub her down with oatmeal. Case solved."

Your hand rubs over the curve of his forearm until you reach the cold bite of his chain bracelet. It brings your attention back to what it is you're doing. You pull your hand away.

You have enough money to get Junie any teddy she wants. You'd made sure of that. You'll just have to hide the train in your tights and wear your waitressing skirt low on your hips for a week or three until you can afford a new pair of pantyhose.

You move to kneel next to Junie. She's pulled every teddy off the shelf and sits half-buried in them, talking a hundred words a minute. You think she might be make-believing, catching the slightest difference in her tone as she shakes one bear and then the other.

After checking the price tags stuck sloppily to each ear, you realise you can afford two.

Best day ever.

"Junie," you say with intent, heavy so she'll look at you. "I want you to pick your two favourite bears. Yeah? Pick which ones you like the best. And we're gonna take them home, okay? Give them a bath, brush out their fur, get them some jammies."

Watching the way her expression changes as she realises what you're saying is confirmation. This is the best day ever.

She decides eventually on one too many. There's a pastel green-blue rabbit with floppy ears and a ribbon tied around his neck, half a face of whiskers that make him quite charming and a worn tail. Next to him is a classic teddy bear who could be Mr. Bear's younger brother who seems in very good condition. Last, a bigger, softer golden teddy with an enamel nose and eyes lies over her lap.

You can't afford all three.

You've barely opened your mouth to tell her, a weak smile on your lips ready to placate when Eddie says, "The rabbit is classic. You'll have to let me get her that one."

"Eddie," you say, looking up at him as you shake your head, "you can't. I can't let you."

"She'll have to share him with me, obviously. He's punk rock."

It's the least punk rock plushie you've ever seen.

"Eddie," you say again, quietly.

He scoops the hair away from his face like he's going to tie it up. "Y/N." He says your name expectantly. When you don't budge he lets his hair fall back to his shoulders and turns serious. "You can pay me back, if you want to."

"Really?"

"Only for the rabbit."

You purse your lips to fight a smile.

Junie throws herself into your lap with her new treasures. "For the rabbit," she parrots factually, gazing up at you with eyes full of content. Her small smile means everything.

"He's a bunny," you murmur, fingers brushing his rough ear.

"He's sweet." Eddie crouches in front of you. He smells like something nice though you can't think of what it is. Cologne, something dark and deep hiding under a woody scent. Maybe sandalwood. His knee taps your thigh and his hand wraps around your shoulder for balance. "Got a dirty nose though. Who does that remind you of?"

You giggle and tap Junie's nose. "I wonder."

Down what feels like a thousand steps and back into the parking garage, your legs are hurting in the best way and Junie's half asleep in her stroller. You'd reluctantly let her keep the blue-green rabbit in hand, and she snuggles him close to her chest.

"I'm actually genuinely worried she's gonna get something from him," you confide.

Eddie weaves his arm through yours. "Like rabies?"

"A rash."

"I'm allergic to gain detergent tablets," he says, his hand slipping away from you so he can put both on his hips. "When I moved in with my Uncle Wayne he didn't know that, obviously, not at first. We didn't notice for a while. One day I'm scratching my chest and he says to me, boy, what are you doing always itching like that? You ever take a shower?" He impersonates his uncle's disappointed frown.

You laugh. "Poor baby."

"I mean, I probably wasn't showering." He laughs. "I was like, wow, thanks Uncle Wayne, I love you too.

"He lifts my shirt up in the middle of the kitchen and we both just stare at this rash. It was the first time I'd really noticed. I didn't… I was a skinny kid, I didn't really find any pleasure in looking at myself. And- He got so serious. Asking me if I was okay, if school was stressing me out."

"He thought you were hurting yourself?"

"In a way… It wasn't the first time he tried to get me to talk about how I was feeling, but it was the first time I thought- I mean, the first time I realised that it was permanent. That we were-" He cuts off with a laugh. "I'm being weird."

"No weirder than usual," you tease. Your expression softens.

You slow, trying to convey how much you want to hear it with a smile. You don't want to say something that'll weigh on the impossibly light mood you're both in; the ground practically glows yellow under your shoes, the two of you walking on sunshine or something remarkably similar.

"I guess I realised he was gonna take care of me. I told him all about school, stuff I'd been lying about, how the Walton twins kept taking my lunch money, how I was failing algebra. How much I," he licks his lips and then smiles, "how much I missed my mom."

"Do you still miss her a lot?" you ask, though you know the answer.

"Yeah, I do. I don't remember everything, but I remember the way she talked sometimes. I don't remember her voice," he concedes, "just… the way she moved. She would lean back whenever I was getting into trouble, and she'd get this look on her face like I was the funniest thing on the planet."

You grin at him. Your cheeks ache from what must be a hundred smiles today. It's a really nice memory to have.

"You are pretty funny," you say.

"What was that? You think I'm pretty and funny? Baby, you spoil me."

You stop altogether and press your fists into your eyes, defeated. "I should've seen that one coming."

"Yeah, you should've."

Soft snores, so quiet you almost miss them. By the time you've got back to your car Junie's sleeping with her chin to her chest and the rabbit's ear held tight in her small hand.

"Will she wake up?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Not if I'm very, very careful," you whisper.

You scoop her up and tuck her into her carseat, holding your breath all the while. Eddie tries his best to fold down the stroller.

You emerge from the backseat and make a soft pitying sound. "Stuck?"

"I can do it," he promises, head and face hidden behind the padded seat. His hands fight with the metal bars holding it in place. Again, you tap the right strut with your shoe to help him out.

He says thank you but refuses to look at you. You swear you're gonna kiss his cheek this time for real because he deserves one and you really want to give him one, but he puts the stroller into the trunk and touches your waist as he opens the driver's side. Any bravery gets turned into mush.

He rolls down the window and sticks his head out, ever amused. "Are you coming?"

You pause at the door and get closer than you mean to, close enough to find yourself distracted by the beauty mark along his jawline.

"You want me to drive?" you ask.

"No, sweetheart. You're good."

You smile at each other. It's a strange sort of smile, strange to be taller than him, strange to have your faces this near. There's a lot to say but maybe now isn't the right time to say it, or maybe now is exactly when you should, and his face lifts up just a touch and your hands feel heavy at your sides.

"Eddie…"

You close your fingers over the door, braced as his body turns to yours. You get the sense that he's waiting for you to say – or do – something. To lean down. To take the leap.

He's the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

You waver.

"You know," he says lightly, blinking his long lashes at you in a way that has your heart skipping beat after beat, "if we hurry, I think we can get on the highway before the work rush. We'll be back in Hawkins before dark."

You bring your hand to his cheek. A sorry and a thank you at the same time. "I don't want to be back in Hawkins before dark." I really want to spend more time with you.

"I'll crawl."

You press your lips together, tongue in your cheek to stop from giggling like a loser as you walk around the hood and climb in. He turns the key in the ignition and switches off the radio before it can wake up Junie. True to his word, Eddie goes what must be a half a mile an hour out of the parking garage. The car behind you beeps aggressively.

Your eyes flicker between the rearview and his grinning face. "What are you- oh."

"Crawling," he murmurs smugly.

The sun starts its slow descent. You use his knee for leverage and pull down his sun visor, then your own, blocking the light. Eddie says, "Thank you," very sweetly and you get comfortable and clip yourself in, anticipating a long drive home.

The stores turn on their neon, fast food and take out restaurants open for the night. The smell of warm oregano and olive oil is strong as you drive through the side avenue past a pizza place with its door thrown open.

Eddie asks if you're hungry and you decline. He takes it with grace and doesn't say much besides passing commentary until you realise he's going the wrong way.

"Eddie," you start.

"I know. Just- one last thing. Let me get one more thing and then we'll go home and you never have to let me spend money on you ever again."

You look over his pinched, pleading brows and his slight pout for any insincerity and find it in droves. "Until Friday," you say, dejected.

"Now you're getting it."

He pulls up to a small bakery and weasels his way inside. You wait, car idling, hands rubbing over the cracked leather of your seats wondering what sweet treat he's going to emerge with.

You have a nightmare – a heaping bag of donuts and shortbread and pastries, things you could never pay him back for, more to add to the impossible pile of things he's given you.

Doing things for the people you care about, you repeat to yourself wearily.

You hadn't expected anything for the haircut, but this is more than a haircut. It's difficult not to think of every dollar as an attribute of every hour he's worked. What makes you deserving of his literal physical labour?

I didn't force him. He likes me.

He certainly looks like he likes you as he appears again, shoving his wallet into the back pocket of his black jeans and wielding a flat looking plastic platter with an exuberant expression. He almost drops them trying to show you. Your heart shoots into your throat.

He's still chuckling when he throws himself into the driver's side. "Shit, did you see that? Almost lost 'em. Here, sweet thing. Hold the sweets. Makes sense, right? Sweet thing holding sweet things."

You accept the tray of what looks like a rainbow of blobs and go to peel off the lid. "Can I?" you ask.

"Of course you can."

You pull off the lid. Twelve cupcakes of all different colours in rows of four. The first four are chocolate cupcakes, one with green icing shaped like a frog, one with a white rabbit, one with an orange fox and one with a blue fish. The second row seems fancier. By the third and fourth row there's no pattern, just an assortment of flavours and decorations, chocolate curls and glitter, a half a strawberry, a smattering of mini marshmallows.

"What flavours that one?" you ask, pointing at a golden cake topped with multicoloured icing, a swirl covered in little crystal like sprinkles.

"I don't have a clue. I picked the first four and then realised it was taking too long. Told 'em to give me whatever."

"Eager to get back?"

"Eager as a cry for life. Try it."

"You don't want one before you start driving?" you ask.

"I'll try that one after you."

You peel back crisp, metallic shiny paper and take a cautious bite. It's a bourbon vanilla cake with a coffee flavour buttercream to cut the sweetness. You can't tell whether you like it or not at first, so you take another bite.

"Leave some for me."

"Sorry!" you say through a giggly mouthful. "Here."

He has both hands on the wheel. You don't know what possesses you – though you're starting to wonder if it can be called possession at all, more like a hunger that won't let things lie – to do it, but you bring the cupcake up to his face and hold it so he can take a bite.

He licks a big dollop of icing as it threatens to fall down his chin, head tilted high. "Oh my god. What is that? Is that coffee?"

"I think so."

"Okay, awesome. Let's try another one."

"What?"

"Let's try another one. There's still eleven left! We can save the cute ones for Juniper the Loveliest, but that's still a ton of flavours. C'mon, let me try the one with the chocolate curl. If I remember, it has white chocolate melted inside."

"If you remember?" you ask, peeling back the paper of his requested cupcake. "You've had these before?"

"A long time ago."

You tilt your head toward your shoulder and watch his lashes kiss. "Here," you say warmly.

He accepts the proferred cake and takes a good bite. His eyes roll back into his head dramatically and he goes stiff, shoulders tense and then suddenly not. You watch the muscle of his bicep flex as he tips his head back in pleasure.

You chortle and you're so happy you don't care how silly you sound, nor how unattractive you might look as you hit him in the arm. "Stop! You're enjoying it too much!"

"I'm enjoying it the right amount! Try it, try it," he says quickly. His eyes flick back to the tray. "I wanna try that strawberry one next."

"Watch the road, Munson, god! I'll pass you whatever one you want, just don't crash the car!"

You forget yourselves. Laughing, eating icing with your noses scrunched up, you don't remember to stay hushed, and soon Junie's awake and annoyed.

You worry for a second that her crying will dampen the mood, but Eddie beams wider still. He's more smile than boy.

"Junie baby! What cupcake do you want, sweetheart?" he asks her, watching her in the rearview mirror.

"Cake?" she asks.

"Cupcake! Yeah, baby, what one do you want? There's a froggy and a fishy and a bunny-" He stops to take a turn onto the highway. The road evens out underneath, the plastic tray stops crinkling. "And a fox," he finishes. "All for you."

You twist in your seat, bunny and fish held in your hands. "Fishy or bunny?" you echo.

"Fishy and bunny," she says clumsily, eyes widened with excitement.

"Just one for now, baby. Let's pick the bunny," you say gently.

There's no hopes of her eating it cleanly. You don't bother with any precaution. It's your car and her seat and her clothes and if she wants to cover it all in soft fondant you don't mind, anything she wants if you get to see this look on her face. Pure happiness, her eyes closing in bliss as she takes her first bite.

"Good, huh?" Eddie asks, speaking glances at her.

"Good!" she says loudly, cheeks plastered in white icing and fluffy golden crumbs.

Then, like the good girl she is, she tries to offer up the cupcake and almost drops it.

"S'that for me? Aw, you keep it. You keep it. Mom's gonna share hers with me." He grins at you. "Isn't that right?"

You share that entire tray of cupcakes right there in the car. By the time you get home, back to Hawkins, it's dark, your stomach hurts, and every cupcake bears two missing bites.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

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

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader

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joyaphoria · 1 year

Text

"it's 10:15 pm," sakusa groans, squinting his eyes at the outline of a figure making a poor attempt at crawling in through his bedroom window.

the best course of action would probably have been to jump out of bed and shove the intruder back out the window, but after the first few times it's happened, sakusa learned to simply accept that you're just never going to be normal.

he only rolls his eyes annoyingly when you get tangled up in your own limbs, leaving you to tumble onto the floor. "omi!" you exclaim as you quickly recover, kicking off your shoes as you throw yourself onto his bed. "i missed you soo much!"

"i was only away for a day," he sighs, biting his tongue before he could add 'clearly not long enough'.

"and still it felt like forever," you whine, sprawling out on his bed. "i was all alone at lunch, it was horrible."

sakusa doesn't bother to point out the fact that you could've eaten lunch with your other friends, because he knows how you feel about them already. 'you know how they are,' you'll say, disapointement clouding your usually cheerful eyes, 'you know what they say about me.'

and although sakusa has always been a straightforward realist, never one to beat around the bush, he'd rather keep his mouth shut than to bring up a topic that he knows would ruin your mood.

"did you eat?" he asks instead, leaning over to flick on the lamp on his bedside table, the tiny bulb lighting up the room.

you nod cheerfully, before pulling out a container of oreos from behind your back. "i brought these for us today, but when i couldn't find you i decided i would just bring them to you instead!"

he doesn't bother to tell you that he’s never liked oreos, the filling far too sweet for him to enjoy. he takes one anyways, carefully pulling apart the cookie and plopping the part without the filing into his mouth.

“no eating on my bed,” he scolds, watching as you freeze, two of the overly sugary treats already stuffed in your mouth. he absently shudders at the thought of micro sized cookie crumbs sprinkled under his sheets, too small to fish out, but just big enough to drive his sensory issues through the roof.

you nod apologetically and finish chewing the cookies in your mouth, placing the plastic container on his bedside table. then, you lie flat on your stomach, plop up your chin on your arms, and stare at him.

“what?” he bites out, pulling his bedsheets up higher to cover his chest, all of a sudden aware of the fact that he was only in his boxers.

you notice the subtle gesture however, and when your eyes quickly dart down to catch his bare shoulders, the corner of your mouth twitches up.

“omi,” you purr, as your eyes narrow to slits and the smirk he’s unknowingly grown weak for appears.

“you’re absolutely insufferable,” he huffs, picking up one of his pillows and launches it at your head, though you dodge it with your arm.

you push yourself up on all fours, slowly crawling towards him with that same look in your eye, the one that knocks all the air out of kiyoomi’s lungs and leaves him shuddering. still, he refuses to back up or turn away as you reach him, leaning in closer until you’re practically sharing the same air as him.

his heart pounds rapidly as he wills himself to hold out, to keep a straight face even though you’re so, so close, your hands on either side of his hips, your knees between his legs, and your mouth, your mouth—

your eyes dart down to his lips. his eyes dart down to yours.

he shoves you off quickly, scoffing as he lays on his side and yanks the covers up to his neck. “time to go,” he dismisses you, ignoring the way you’re laughing as the heat creeps up his neck and, well, his crotch.

recovering from your fit of giggles, you move to lie on your side to face him, but he interrupts you before you can crawl under the sheets. “no outside clothes under my sheets,” he hisses, shuddering at the thought of all you dirt you would be dragging into his bed, especially considering you came in through his window.

you arch your eyebrow playfully, and just as he’s realizing what he said, you lift your arms and pull your hoodie over your head, revealing the thin — oh so thin — fabric of your tank top, and the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra. kiyoomi doesn’t notice he’s been staring until you pull off your sweatpants in one swift motion, revealing a hidden pair of boxers underneath.

oh my god.

if he was red earlier, he must’ve been a dark shade of purple by now.

he turns onto his other side, taking in a deep, silent inhale. his best friend. you’re his best friend. “i said to go home,” he repeats, but his head is screaming, begging you to touch him, to hold him, to run your fingertips up and down his arm, to wrap your hand around his pulsing, aching d—

“i can’t,” you sigh, and kiyoomi curses the name of every single one of his ancestors watching over him when he feels your body press against him from behind, and he has to bite hard into his bottom lip to stop himself from groaning.

what the fuck. grow a fucking pair, kiyoomi.

“then go sleep on the side of the road,” he mutters, inhaling sharply when your hands snakes across his waist, the cool skin of your arm shocking the warmness of his chest.

“oh but you’d much rather me here, wouldn’t you?”

kiyoomi curses once again. in his head, of course. or was it out loud?

“don’t play games with me,” he warns, squeezing his eyes shut when your hand snakes dangerously low.

“but you’re just so much fun,” you coo against the tenderness of his neck, your hand tracing down the fine lines of his chest, down to his v-line, then thumbing at the waistband of his boxers.

“y/n,” he bites out. your hand slips under his boxers. his hips jerk.

in less than two seconds you’re pinned beneath him on his mattress as he hovers over you, chest heaving and a knee between your thighs.

“what’s this, omi?” you call out playfully, lifting your hand between your faces and you spread apart your fingers, the stickiness of a substance stretching along with it.

he’s going to hell.

he pushes his knee upwards, firmly, and you gasp, gripping onto his forearm and your hips jolt and you whimper.

his dick jumps in his boxers.

he watches as you try to subtly grind against his knee, desperate for any kind of friction, the sultry facade fallen.

this is going to be a long night.

#—joylovesyou #—joysministuffs #—joyisromantic #mdni #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa drabbles #sakusa drabble #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq smut #kiyoomi #omg how did this happen bye\#characters are 18.

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thenewblackcanvas · 7 months

Text

Woof | atz (18+)

ateez (ot8) x reader; yunho and mingi x reader nsfw mentioned 18+ only, minors dni Themes: pet play, dark magic, kidnapping

“Good pup.” the words rasped in your ear made you whimper, pushing your ass back further. The man behind you tightened his grip on your hip roughly.

The other man smiled wider as his fingers tightened around the pretty, red collar. “I do love a pup that likes to be used. Obedient ones are the most fun. Don’t forget that.” his words confused you briefly. You were already being so obedient, letting these two practically strangers use you how they wanted. Kneeling, sucking them off, begging; you did everything with no question. You didn't exactly mull it over though as thoughts were barely able to stay in your mind as the taller man hiked your hips up, lifting your knees completely off the bed as he plowed into you faster. The high he was chasing must've been intoxicating as he lost all semblance of control.

You gasped and screamed and moaned. The man next to you lets go of the collar to grab your hair. He pushed your head down, turning it to the side so he could look at you for a moment before sloppily kissing you.

As embarrassing as it was, being handled so roughly, being called an animal, and the feeling of this stranger releasing into you brought you over the edge. Hard. You barely felt him bring your knees back to the bed before everything started to shift and darken. You’d never cum that hard but everything felt off-kilter now. You heard them say one last thing.

“Good pup.”

Everything comes into view slowly.

Your lids feel heavy but you manage to keep them open. As you start to make out what's in front of you, your heart starts to race. It is fairly dark with some light illuminating what is in front of you. Metal bars?

You look past them seeing where some of the light is coming from. It looks like a piece of fabric thrown in front. You move your heavy body forward. You can’t fully feel your whole body yet but you manage to rest your head on the bars in front of you. A rough breath you let out at the exertion moves the cloth confirming it is fabric.

But as you realize this, you freeze as you hear voices.

“I think I saw the blanket move.”

“Pretty sure it’s the air con.”

Someone chuckles. “No I think our new pup is up.”

You hear them getting closer before the fabric is lifted away. Your eyes struggle against the brightness for a moment. It’s clear now though that you are in some kind of cage, looking left and right at all the metallic bars surrounding you. You finally look up beyond them to see three large men standing over you.

You cower back. They're all looking at you with amused faces. The one holding the blanket smiles down at you but it makes you shiver. The two next to him crouch down looking more curious in their amusement.

“She’s so cute! But is she really a good choice? Yunho and Mingi got her pretty quick.”

At the names, you remember the two men you let use you. They were with you before you lost consciousness. You couldn’t help the fear and anger that rose in you at this. You growled lowly before stopping, surprised at the sound you made.

“Aww she’s angry.” The oreo hair one laughed.

“I don’t think someone quite realizes what has happened yet.” The one standing says. He walks toward the steps sat in the back of the room calling up to others.

You hear multiple pairs of feet descending the stairs. Five more men come toward your prison. You can’t see all of them well at first but you coward again, moving back to the far wall.

One man comes forward, with you finally able to see his taunting face. It’s Yunho, the tall man from before. You begin to yell at him, making a fuss. They all start to laugh, some of them cooing at you in between. It’s only then that you hear yourself.

The explicatives you think you're yelling aren’t coming out that way. You’re barking. And not a cheap ‘bark bark’ imitation, real and true barking. The other man, Mingi, comes forward holding a large mirror in front of your small cell.

What looks back at you is a small dog. Yorkshire terrier type looking scared in the reflection.

The sight shocks you more than anything you’ve ever experienced. You’re still not fully aware of your body yet but you can feel yourself shaking with warmth forming under you.

Another man next to the first one frowns. “Aww poor thing, she pissed herself.”

You can’t even proccess what he said as your mind is spinning. You’re whimpering and shaking, not sure how any of this is happening. It hardly processes as he opens what you now know to be a dog crate, lifting you out. He’d taken the blanket from the other man, now holding you in his arms. “Shhh darling. It’s alright.”

“Jesus, seonghwa she’s covered in piss. Don’t hold her.”

“It only happened because you didn’t ease her into it like we planned, Joong. Why did you take the blanket off?��

“Sannie saw the blanket move and Wooyoung was a second away from getting up anyway. I figured she was up so I wanted to rip the bandaid off.”

Seonghwa scoffed.

“We should probably introduce ourselves then.”

“I’m San.” said man bends over, scratching your head.

The man beside him goes next. “I’m Wooyoung.”

“Hongjoong.” “Jongho” “Yeosang!”

“Seonghwa.” the gentle man holding you says. You look up, seeing his tender smile and kind eyes puts you slightly at ease yet confuses you.

“And you already know us, huh?” Yunho laughs as he and Mingi reach out to pet you.

You snap at them, almost biting Mingi and growling. He pulls away, slightly offended but Yunho just chuckles. “You’ll be alright. There’s no way out of this anyway.”

Seonghwa calms you, turning you away from the two before speaking again. “Now that she’s awake we need to finish setting up.”

Hongjoong nods. “San, Wooyoung, clean up the crate. Jongho, Yeosang, go set up the room. Yunho and Mingi go run her a bath.”

They all split following the man’s orders. You simply listen at the conversation between the two remaining men before it drowns out. You think about how this happened. Simply relaxing at the park, you were interrupted by a little dog. You thought it was weird how excited and loud the dog was barking at you but that’s when Yunho made his way over. He just picked her up and kept her in one arm extending the other to you. Something felt off in the way the dog looked at you and barked like it was trying to tell you something but excitable dogs aren’t cause for alarm since it wasn’t aggressive. You really should have taken it as a warning sign, a red flag, but how could you have known?

After a little bit, Seonghwa takes you into the bathroom where your original captors are. Yunho’s sleeves are pulled up as he stands from beside the tub. Mingi finishes adding the soap, putting a washcloth on the side.

“I’ve got it from here.” Seonghwa says dismissing the other two. They nod and leave.

He gently sets you down on the conter, letting the soiled blanket drop. With soft hands he takes take something from around your neck. After a few heavy blinks, you realize the man doesn’t look so giant anymore. The feeling of something cold under you makes you look down. You gasp noticing legs. Your legs. Finally, you're back to yourself.

You look to Seonghwa as he smiles sweetly, putting something down. It was the collar. You recognize it as the same one you wore during your time with Yunho and Mingi. Though much smaller.

“Wha-”

“Sit there. I’ll grab a towel then help you in.”

You can only blink, still in disbelief as he speaks like something extraordinary didn’t just happen. They really are the culprits of this weird magic. As you look back over to the little red collar it finally dawns on you. The collar. The one that was sitting on the counter. The one that was on the dog in the park. It was reason you were small and furry less than a minute ago.

Sliding down from the counter onto unsteady legs, you look to Seonghwa who was staring at you now with the towel in hand. Your brain freezes for a moment as he simply looks on before all of your thoughts scream,

‘run’

‘Run’

‘RUN’

Summoning all your energy, you fling open the bathroom door. Running through the halls you spot a door with frosted glass above it. ‘It must be the front door!’ you tell yourself. You run frantically, practically slamming yourself into it.

As your hands fumble with the locks you hear something and turn to see the others sat around the room staring at you. They look almost bored, though Wooyoung is snickering with his gaze lower. Suddenly you're aware of the fact that you are still nude.

As the big lock above the knob finally gives, you toss the thought aside. Surely you’ll get one of those blankets they give victims when you are resuced.

You see the outside and, still not hearing anyone chase you, throw yourself out the door. Running onto the porch and down the steps. Two feet from the front house one of your larger strides seems to fail you. You go forward, flipping before landing.

It takes a second after being disoriented to get your mind back but before you can run again you're being lifted off the ground. You wiggle and writhe starting to yell as loud as you can before hearing it. You’re yowling.

‘No, no not again’ The sound is loud and desperate and obviously not of a human, one of a neglected pet.

Yeosang picks you up, holding you tucked under his arm. “Sorry puppy.” He sounds exasperated but sincere, it doesn't stop you from wiggling in his hold though.

Once the door closes again you deflate at your attempt gone so wrong. He passes you off to another though you don’t see who as you’re too downhearted to bother looking. It isn’t until you’re back in the bathroom that the man talks.

“You still smell. You’re lucky you’re so cute or we would leave you like this and put you back in the crate.” It’s Yunho. At the sound of his voice, you start to squirm again.

“Hey hey hey!” He sits you on the counter and taps your nose. A strange feeling spreads from where he tapped through your body, making your body weak and your little legs collapse. You growl angrily.

He just laughs and stands straight again to add hot water to the cooling bath. As you sit there unsure of what to do, Seonghwa comes back in. He flicks his hand, not sparing you a glace, turning you back. His eyes don’t seem to want to meet yours, which gives you a strange pang in your chest.

Yunho beckons you to the tub. He helps you in, waiting until you're seated to grab the washcloth. It should bother you that he’s going to wash you or that the door to the bathroom is open with them coming in and out but your brain is starting to float now. Not quite there enough to fully accept what is happening to you, in a state or shock over the real magic being exhibited, and starting to fade to protect your sanity.

Your wandering eyes land on the collar. You try to figure out how you were wrong, you were so sure it was the collar. It made so much sense.

Yunho follows your gaze and catches on to your train of thought. “Awww, you really thought you had figured it out huh? That’s why little puppies should stick to being cute, they don’t need their dumb brains.”

“The collar isn’t what made you this way” Seonghwa joins. He hands Mingi a large towel for you. “It strengthens the magic but you’re attached to us now, pup. If you go further than 10 feet from us, it kicks in the protect you.”

You want to scoff but you can’t bring yourself to. You watch as he leaves the room without another word, this time closing the door.

The feel of Yunho’s hands become apparent, so you will yourself to think about anything else. You can’t stop thinking about the collar. Your mind floats back to the excitable dog at your first meeting.

“What happened to them?” You ask cautiously. “The other person?”

For minute they’re quiet before asking “Our other pup?”

You nod slowly.

Yunho smirks not answering so Mingi speaks instead. “Remember what I said about obedient pups? Well disobedient ones are trouble…an inconvenience. They don’t get to be taken care of.”

“As a puppy or a human.” Yunho adds ominously.

Letting the words sink in, you start to tremble. Sniffling can be heard as they work to rinse your back.

The taller man sighs, placing a large hand on the side of your face to hold it carefully. “Just…be good.”

It’s all he can give in the form of comfort. He looks uncomfortable yet genuine before returning to rinsing you off.

You latch onto these words. Along with Seonghwa’s softness and them having yet to hurt you or seeming like they want to are the things your frazzled brain clings to for some form of comfort.

Just be good.

#ateez x reader #yunho smut #mingi smut #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #ateez smut #Spooky Season 2023 #ateez angst #poly ateez #poly ateez x reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

Text

A shrill beep breaks his focus, and for it he nearly gets sliced in the eye.

He just barely manages to dodge the Gladiator’s blade, ducking under its sword and rolling towards his jacket and boots, crumpled on the floor. He digs out his comm, as quickly as he can with the Gladiator hot on his tail, and glances at the new message. It’s from Lance.

sharpshooter:

keith where tf are u

sharpshooter:

please know if u miss yet another meeting i am going to kick ur ass

sharpshooter:

better yet i’m gonna have allura kick ur ass bc she actually can

sharpshooter:

know that it will be painful

Keith rolls his eyes, dropping his comm and feigning left just as the Gladiator stabs right through where his head was milliseconds prior. No longer worried that he’s missing something important, he throws himself back into the fight, matching his breathing to the clash of his sword against the Gladiator’s, the steady taps of their feet on the floor as they move, the rapid beat of his own heart. It’s easy to sink into the movement, the adrenaline; to stop thinking.

Thinking is dangerous. Thinking is painful. Thinking reminds him only of how much he’s lost, how much he’s falling short. None of that is helpful. The weight of his sword in his hand, the smell of sweat and metal, the harsh white lights of the training room — all that is helpful. All that is real.

“Kogane, you are the most irritating person in space. And that’s saying a lot, because I’m here, and I specialize in being irritating.”

The Gladiator freezes mid strike, then fades into pixels. The harsh lights dim.

Keith turns around with a scowl. Lance matches it, standing right beside the training room kill switch, arm crossed and jaw set defiantly.

“I’m trying to train, Lance.”

“No need. You’ve reached peak levels of infuriating. No more training necessary.”

Keith rolls his eyes so hard it hurts, jogging over to his water bottle and chugging half of it before dropping to the floor and doing push-ups. Whatever. Lance may have shut down the Gladiator, but Keith can train in other ways. He’ll just turn it back on when Lance leaves.

“Oh, you fucking —”

Before he can fully register what’s happening, a sharp wooshing noise gets louder, and he rolls out of the way seconds before a sword flies by his head and imbeds itself in the wall.

A very, very familiar sword, white with red accents.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Keith shouts, but Lance is already sprinting to grab his bayard, face impassive.

Keith scrambles to his feet, lunging for his own blade, barely managing to activate it and hold it in front of him to block Lance’s oncoming strike. The force of the blow is so powerful it sends a painful ripple down his arms.

Lance is just barely smirking.

“If it’s a fucking fight you want than you’ll get it,” Keith growls, spinning out of the way and putting some distance between them, adjusting his stance and tensing his shoulders.

“I don’t want a fight, douchebag. But obviously talking like grownups is too hard for your tiny little brain, so I’m going to explain this in a way you can understand.”

“You’re really shitty at one-liners,” Keith points out, aiming a thrust at Lance’s left hip, which he always leaves open.

To Keith’s delight, Lance’s smirk drops. “That’s because one-liners are stupid!” he says defensively, barely managing to swerve to the side in time to avoid serious damage. He retaliates by swinging his longsword like it’s a fucking bat, and Keith’s head is a baseball, because Lance is allergic to the real swordfighting techniques Keith has attempted to teach him. And also peanuts, but that’s not helpful right this second. “I only have one line to destroy you emotionally! Truly devastating burns are multi-layered, which is why you can never come up with them, you one-dimensional oreo thinnie!”

Keith grunts, sidestepping Lance’s attempt to stab his foot and clashing his sword at the base of Lance’s, right near the hilt, trying to disarm him. It works, but only because Lance anticipated the move, and as his sword is bent from his hand he does some sort of twisting manoeuvre with his wrist and manages to catch it, somehow. It’s infuriating.

“I stopped listening twelve percent into your sentence.”

“Well, you do that a lot, so colour me unsurprised.”

The unfiltered bitterness in Lance’s voice throws him for a loop, distracts him. He blinks, thrown-off, head out of the game.

“What?”

His distractedness costs him. Faster than he can fully track, Lance hooks his foot around Keith’s ankle, sweeping his legs out from under him, and then shoves him to the floor, pinning his wrists above his head, knee to Keith’s navel, sword to his throat. Keith tries to struggle, to either buck Lance off or angle his own sword, still clenched in his hand, back up to Lance, but he’s exhausted — he’s been training since he woke up this morning. Lance has him at a disadvantage.

“You are being a massive douchebag dumbass loser,” Lance says, panting. “I am fighting the urge to kill you for real.”

“Maybe don’t,” Keith suggests, suddenly very aware of the position they’re in and how easily Lance could drive his sword through Keith’s skull. He knows Lance won’t, or else he’d be struggling way more, but the way Lance is eyeing his own sword is certainly not helping.

Lance sighs. “We need to take a break, Keith.”

Keith frowns. “What?”

Lance sighs again, shifting off of Keith and standing, offering his hand. Keith takes it, pulling himself up, and then follows Lance over to the wall, sitting down next to him.

“What?” he repeats, when Lance doesn’t say anything for several minutes.

Lance shifts to face him, and for the first time Keith really notices the bags under his eyes, the sag of his shoulders. “We need to take a break,” he repeats. “All of us. The team. We need to do something that isn’t this —” he spreads his arm, gesturing to their swords and then between them — “all the time. We need a vacation.”

“No.” Keith barely lets him finish. He gets back to his feet, picking up his sword and heading back towards the system modulator, flipping through the different training modules. Lance follows him immediately.

“Keith —”

“No, Lance,” Keith repeats, fists clenching the edge of the computer. “This is a fucking war. There are no vacations. End of discussion.”

Lance mutters something in Spanish, too fast for Keith to pick up, but he clearly hears a few repeated instances of “cabrón”, and “comemierda”, and “tonto terco idiota que va a hacer que nos maten a todos”, none of which he can translate but he’s pretty sure he gets the general message.

“Keith.” Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s wrist, tugging him away from the training computer. “I cannot possibly understand the pain you are going through. Nothing I have ever gone through can possibly be the same as how it feels to lose a brother. For the second time, for fuck’s sake. I know that.”

Keith clenches his jaw, swallowing the lump in his throat at the mere mention of Shiro. He itches to yank his hand away, boot up the Gladiator again, and train and train and train until he can’t hear his thoughts anymore.

But he doesn’t.

“But you’re not alone in this, man,” Lance continues. Keith turns to glare at him — what a fucking crock of cliched bullshit — but Lance holds his gaze, steady and firm. “Pidge knows exactly what you’re going through. Allura, too. Hell, even Coran. That’s three separate people who understand every single thing you’re going through right now. Intimately.”

That brings Keith up short. “It’s not the same,” Keith insists anyway. “Plus it — it doesn’t matter. What good is talking out our feelings going to do? That’s not going to fuckin’ find him. I’m only going to find him if I keep working.”

“Really interesting that you say that,” Lance says flatly. “I had this exact conversation with Pidge last night, as I was attempting to force her to get some sleep.”

Keith feels something like guilt build up deep in his stomach.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And it’s one thing for me to mother hen the fifteen year old, but it’s a whole other, weirdly Freudian thing for me to mother hen you, the grownup leader who is supposed to be guiding the team and not a giant headass who is doing intensely stupid shit like ignoring team meetings and training to the point where he passes out.”

“In my defense, the daily team meetings are dumb,” Keith mutters, because apparently he wants Lance to kick him out the airlock.

Luckily, Lance only smiles wryly. “You’re lucky I’m endlessly benevolent and I’m going to let that slide. Come sit down, asshole. You missed today’s meeting because you were busy being emo, but we’ll have a small meeting now. A co-leaders meeting.”

Keith relents, sitting next to Lance on the floor, back to the wall as Lance sits criss-cross-applesauce in front of him.

“Okay. Vacation. Necessary.”

“Counterpoint. We all manage our schedules better and have some free time, and don’t waste our time spending who knows how long doing nothing.”

“Counter counter point. We do both of those things or I mutiny.”

Lance does not appear to be joking even a little. When it’s clear that Keith isn’t going to speak any further, he sighs.

“Look,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know that the idea of not doing something for a day is kind of stressful. But…saving the world is a massive bummer, dude. Being on this lonely ass castle in the middle of empty space is a bummer. Chasing a walking purple L’Oreal commercial who is also a homicidal maniac is a bummer. Eating in silence during team dinners is a bummer. Trying to force Pidge and Hunk to step away from their tech for a few hours to sleep and eat and shower is a bummer. Dragging Allura away from the briefing room is a bummer. Making sure you don’t work yourself to death is a bummer. Being the red paladin, if I’m being a thousand percent honest, right now, is a bummer. I’m bummed, dude.”

Despite himself, Keith smiles slightly. Lance grins back, tired and a tad condescending but also fond.

“I got it, Lance.”

“Excellent. I even dumbed it down so it would not escape you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You know what would make me less of an asshole?”

“A vacation?” Keith guesses.

“Ding ding ding! Vacation is the answer.” Lance reaches forward, grabbing Keith’s water bottle straight from his hands and taking a swig. “And since you decided to ditch the daily briefing, you get to make it up to me today by convincing the rest of the team to agree and also agreeing to whatever vacation spot I choose.”

“I will agree to one of those things.”

Lance laughs, bright and happy, and it sends such a startling zap of energy and relief through Keith’s entire body that he’s kicking himself for making it so rare, as of late.

“Oh, Mullet, you are so naive.”

Lance gets to his feet, offering his hand to Keith again. This time, when Keith takes it, he holds on for a moment — he smiles at Lance, tired but genuine. Lance smiles back, knocking their shoulders together.

It’s nice to be back on the same page.

———

Keith thinks he reserves the right to complain, honestly.

Well, maybe not. He did work everyone pretty hard. And he is glad that Lance finally convinced him (if threatening to mutiny can be called convincing) to go on vacation, even though you couldn’t waterboard that out of him.

“If you complain even one more time I am going to draw a massive dick with the sunscreen where you can’t reach,” Lance says pleasantly, squirting what Keith would call a massive excess of Altean SPF 900 onto his hands (alien suns are a little more deadly. Who knew). He slaps it on Keith’s back, slathering it with absolutely zero care and an abundance of glee.

It doesn’t make Keith smile. It doesn’t.

“I’ll just wear a shirt until the sunburn fades. Complaining is worth it.”

Lance only hums, working in the cream. It starts to feel good, his cold fingers digging into the knots on Keith’s back. It feels so good, in fact, that Keith lets his guard down.

Rookie mistake if he’s ever made one.

One second he’s sat on the warm sand, tension melting from his shoulders, and the next he’s fucking airborne; Lance picking him up by the waist and throwing him over broad swimmers shoulders.

“Lance!” he screeches, pounding on the red paladin’s back, “fucking let me down! Dickhead!”

Lance is cackling loudly, picking up speed and jogging for the — icy cold! Keith knows! — waves. The rest of the team looks in their direction, but Keith loses any hope of their aid when they all burst out laughing.

“All of you are the worst!” Keith cries, but he can’t deny that it’s nice to hear their laughter again.

It’s been a while.

Still, though, Keith is not going down without a fight. As he and his captor get closer and closer to a watery doom (Keith has never been dramatic even a day in his life), Keith really starts to struggle. He throws his whole body weight to one side, making Lance stumble. He aims an elbow to the Cuban’s ear, but before his hit can land, he hears a voice shout: “Oh, no you don’t!”

Three things happen in quick succession.

One. Lance whoops in triumph.

Two. A curtain of white hair flashes towards him, and yet another arm grabs him around the waist.

Three. He drops, and water colder than the fucking glacial arctic seas envelops him entirely.

He comes back up sputtering, glaring a thousand daggers at Allura.

“You’ll pay for that,” he informs her.

“Ha!” She looks down at him smugly, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised to her hairline. “Good luck with that.”

Keith doesn’t hesitate before tackling her into the waves.

It doesn’t take long after that for things to devolve into chaos. Hunk happily follows Allura and Lance’s examples, scooping up Pidge — to her rage — and Coran — to his delight — under one arm each, tossing them in the water like neither weighs particular more to him than perhaps a bunch of grapes.

(Dear Lord. If Keith were not so gone on Lance’s ass…)

As much as he tries to deny it, Keith has fun. Very quickly Lance organizes a game of chicken, climbing up Keith’s body like a particularly aggravating monkey (something Keith is happy to tell him) and settling on his shoulders, thighs bracketing his head and ankles crossed at his abdomen.

Keith goes so violently red that he’s genuinely kind of shocked that he can turn that colour.

“Squeeze any tighter, Lance, and Keefers over there is going to evaporate the entire ocean,” Pidge says drily.

Keith does not wait for her to get situated on Coran’s shoulders. He charges.

Despite his brain relaying a constant stream of Oh God Lance’s thighs are wrapped around your head holy shit he’s sitting on your shoulders and he’s barely dressed his fucking legs are so long why are they so long does he have to be this attractive is that even possible what the fuck is the deal with that, he manages to put his full attention into going absolutely ham. He charges, dodges, leaps and bounds, intent on being the winning team of this ridiculous but admittedly fun game.

Allura and Hunk dominate. Easily. It’s barely even a competition. They dunk everyone else so many times that they have to plead for mercy.

Still, Keith has a huge smile on his face by the time everyone peels off and cools down.

“There it is,” Lance says, poking him on the cheek.

Keith bats his hands away. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

But Lance is undeterred by his gruffness. He smiles, fondly, rolling his eyes, then bounds away with a random bucket to the shoreline, likely to look for cool seashells.

Keith is so endeared that it’s honestly a little sickening. Never in his life has he been so attached to the whims to another person.

He doesn’t hate it, somehow.

“If you keep building the habit of watching your red paladin so lovingly, you may be accused of favouritism in the near future,” Coran teases, taking a seat next to him on the sand.

Keith flushes. Your red paladin rings in his ears.

“I don’t watch him like that,” he denies loudly.

“You do so,” pipes up the peanut gallery, also known as Pidge Holt, without so much as glancing up from her, Hunk’s, and Allura’s massive sandcastle. Honestly, sandcastle might not be the right word for it. The magnificent undertaking is significantly larger and significantly prettier than his dingy shack from back home.

“You’re fired,” Keith shoots back. Pidge only rolls her eyes, reaching over and smashing one of the sand figures standing on the castle.

“I just killed sand Keith for your insolence. Beg for my forgiveness or I won’t rebuild you.”

The two of them continue to bicker until Allura throws clumps of sand at them to get them to shut up.

“Aw, the sand got stuck in my sunscreen,” Keith pouts. He tries to rub it off, but it only scrapes his skin off with it, so he gives up. “You’re the worst!”

“I’m going to put more sand in your hair,” Allura says mildly. She scoops up a handful. Keith holds a bucket of water up in front of him in defense.

Before an all out war can be restarted, Hunk stills, looking up from his intricate castle-building with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, speaking of sunscreen, where’s Lance? He can usually be relied upon to snootily inform anyone who will listen about UV rays and skin cancer every hour.”

“He went to go find seashells.”

Hunk’s brow furrows. “And he’s not back yet? It’s been a bit. Do you think he got lost?”

“Let’s go look for him,” Keith says, scrambling to his feet immediately. His heartbeat picks up slightly, ‘Lance’ and ‘lost’ ringing through his head like disjointed echoes. He’s already halfway down the sand by the time he registers the voices around him, hears the calling of his name, feels a steady hand on his shoulder.

“He’s not lost,” Coran says kindly. His green eyes are wrought with pain and empathy and understanding alike, reminding Keith of Lance’s earlier words. Reminding him that his family truly does understand his pain, truly does know him, get him. Coran’s hand squeezes once, and Keith takes a deep breath, smiling slightly back at him, covering his hand briefly with his own.

“Okay.”

Still, the six of them walk down the shoreline faster than they would normally, figuring safe is better than sorry.

“Hey, look.” Pidge points at a small purple critter scuttling across the sand. “Does that thing look like it’s in a hurry to you?”

“I think all crabs kind of look like they’re in a hurry,” Hunk reasons.

Allura smiles slightly, snapping his hands. “It’s the snappiness to their movements.”

Just as they speak, however, another crab scurries along, and then another. Soon dozens of them are visible, digging themselves out of the sand or hopping out of the water, then hurrying down the shoreline like whatever their chasing is about to run out. Eventually the crowd of crabs get so thick that it’s almost impossible to walk without gently sweeping several of them aside to make room for their feet.

“Oh, hey, guys!”

A few yards in front of them, sat cross cross applesauce on the sand, surrounded by hundreds of little crabs, is Lance. In front of him is the bucket he had left with and a sponge-like chunk of seaweed. He grins sunnily at them, so widely that the brown of his eyes is hidden, they crinkle so much, and returns his attention to the bucket. He holds his hand out to one of the many crabs chittering around them, waiting for it to crawl on, then gently lowers it into the bucket, using the spongey seaweed to scrub its shell.

“I’m giving the crabs baths!” The little crab in the bucket seems to wiggle, almost, in some kind of glee, waiting for Lance to finish, pat it on the head, and set it down on the sand before scuttling away.

“You’re bathing,” says Pidge incredulously, “aquatic sand bugs.”

“Some of them have a lot of barnacle buildup,” Lance says primly.

“We thought you went missing,” Keith blurts. He can’t quite keep the fear out of his voice, that built up as soon as he’d realized that Lance was gone, fear that comes out as anger. He regrets it as soon as it comes out, bracing himself for the set to Lance’s jaw and and the defensiveness in his jaw. But to his surprise Lance only softens, holding a crab out to Keith. He takes it on reflex, blinking at it in confusion. The crab blinks back.

“I did not,” Lance promises. “But I was looking for shells, and then I saw Jorge flipped upside down, so I helped him, and then we were chilling, and then I noticed he was walking funny because of a barnacle buildup on his leg, so I asked him if he wanted me to get it off, and he didn’t answer but he was cool to hop in the bucket so I cleaned him off. And then Carmen showed up so I polished her up, and then Amelia, then Hunk Two —”

“You named a crab after me?” Hunk interrupts, visibly touched.”

Lance nods matter-of-factly. “Strong and sunset coloured. All of you have crab buddies. Look.” He scoops up six crabs from his lap, showing the Hunk-crab first, then showing three other crabs in order: a teeny-tiny dark green one with black marks around its eyes, a bright pink one that sparkles when it moves, and an orange one with markings around its mouth. “Pidge-crab, Allura-crab, Coran-crab.” Finally he holds out his hand to the crab that has been sitting protectively on his head, burrowed in his curls. It takes a moment, but eventually the little thing begrudgingly steps from the safety of Lance’s hair and into his cupped hand. He brings it carefully down, giving it an exaggerated smooch on the head.

“This one is Keith-crab,” he says. “Because it is all emo coloured and likes me best.” Lance looks up at him and grins. “I am your absolute favourite all the time, right, Mullet?”

Keith knows Lance is teasing. Obviously. Evident in the way the rest of the team is snickering to themselves, no doubt remembering the years of arguing they’ve witnessed.

But still. Keith feels lightheaded.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, bright red. There’s a beat of silence that stretches out for twelve years, then Pidge guffaws, Hunk bites his lip, and Allura straight up loses it. Even Coran hides a smile in his hand.

“What the fuck, Keith,” Lance says, strangled. His face glows worse than Keith’s does. “You’re not supposed to admit it.”

“Would it be so bad?“ Keith erupts, voice cracking. “So what you’re my favourite? There’s no way you didn’t know! I let you get away with everything! You threatened to shove a sword through my skull yesterday and I didn’t even put you in a chokehold about it!”

Lance makes a long, anguished noise, setting the crab down with great care before burying his face in his hands. “You’re so embarrassing,” he moans. “You don’t have an ounce of rizz in your body. None.”

Keith sputters. “What does that even mean!”

“It means he liiiiiiikes yooooouuuu,” Pidge crows. Allura makes kissy faces.

And, well. Pidge cannot be trusted. She has openly and gleefully informed him that lying for fun is one of her favourite hobbies, especially when Keith is at the other end of her clowning.

But Lance is still trying to shrink back into himself, embarrassed. And he always finds an excuse to have his hands on Keith, somehow. And Keith hangs out with him more than anyone else, honestly.

Keith turns to Lance, hopeful. “You do?”

Lance points at him, glaring. “This does not count. You hear me?”

Keith grins, rocking back on his heels. “I’m not sure.” Lance scowls. Keith genuinely feels like he might be floating, so long as he ignores his asshole friends. “You might have to spell it out for me.”

“You talk to me properly,” Lance lists. “When we are alone. Play it up and wax poetic and — I dunno, flowers or something. You figure it out. I refuse to have this be how I find out you have feelings for me.”

“I mean, I was never really hiding it.”

“I’ll divorce you, Keith, I swear to God.”

Humming, Keith leans close, careful of the crabs, and presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek. At the last second Lance turns his head, catching his lips and kissing him properly. His smile is wide and shy.

“Sure, Sharpshooter.”

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max-with-mons · 8 months

Text

ℙ𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟: 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐭.1

𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕖: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐆𝐮𝐳𝐦𝐚, 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬!

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 19 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐆𝐮𝐳𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 16 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧

𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐧

refuses to do it at first

Like, absolutely refuses

No way is he risking the Grunts seeing him

It takes a lot of determination on your end to get him to change his mind

And even then, there were conditions for him to agree

Number one: he will only do this at your house

Number two: you will not tell anyone you’re hanging out (especially Hau) so that there’s no interruptions

Number three: they have to be the strawberry flavoured ones

It’s kinda funny how serious he’s taking this

And you make a small joke that it’s just a biscuit eating challenge, not a battle

You get a glare for that

But you can tell he’s not mad

Just embarrassed

If you had to guess, it’s because he’s nervous about possibly kissing you

Yes, you are dating

But you are very aware that he hasn’t kissed anyone before

Neither have you, but you’re less anxious about it

And of course

It inevitably happens

It’s pretty much the point of the challenge, even if that wasn’t why you personally wanted to do it

It’s a very quick kiss

Short and sweet

Gladion momentarily freezes when it happens

But once you two have sat staring at each other for a minute or so

He smiles

“that… wasn’t so bad.”

𝐆𝐮𝐳𝐦𝐚

isn’t opposed to it

But doesn’t really see the point

If you wanna kiss him, just ask?

Or do the thing where you hug his side and tilt your head up at him

He'll happily kiss you

But when you say that you just think the idea is cute, he agrees

If it’ll make you happy, then fine

He even gets the matcha pocky for you, since that’s your favourite

Will sit in his chair with you on his lap

Cause his chair means POWER

Sends the Grunts out though (even though they’ve seen you two be affectionate before)

Purposely bites half of the biscuit in one go, just to speed up the process and get his kiss

Shrugs when you tell him that it’s not fair

“Guess you just have to try again then, huh babes?”

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚

it’s actually her idea

The female Grunts had been talking about the challenge for a while

And it made her curious

Normally she’s reserved in affection around others

Hugs are fine, sometimes a kiss on the cheek

But she figures it’s relatively harmless to give one quick kiss to you

Plus, she wants one of the Grunt girls to video it for her

She can be sentimental sometimes!

Plus it’s just generally a cute idea

She picks the oreo pocky, and gives a (very trusted) Grunt her phone

Then pulls you over

A quick explanation of the challenge, and you’re happy enough to do it

1…2…GO!

You end up pretty equal in terms of bites taken

And when the kiss happens, she holds your hand

It’s a very rare moment of her being soft in front of the others

“Hey, I can be sweet too! Don’t just stare at me, dummy…”

#pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon gladion #pokemon guzma #pokemon plumeria #gladion x reader #guzma x reader #plumeria x reader #gladion x gn reader #guzma x gn reader #plumeria x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #pokemon x reader #pokemon x gn reader #pokemon fanfic

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fullcravings · 3 months

Text

Strawberry Crunch Cake

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starwrighter · 9 months

Text

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter 12 lets gooo!)

The audacity of this fish! Eyelids still heavy, brain still longing to go back to sleep. Shooting the meanest glare he could muster at the fish, hoping desperately that his displeasure would be received as intended. Untangling himself from the curtain, Danny rubbed his face. The folds of the fabric imprinted on his cheek leaving a pink mark that was quickly fading with his continued consciousness.

Danny pulled a peeper out of his makeshift freezer. Thankfully, it was still frozen. At least some aspects of his powers stayed the same. Sucking in a deep breath chilled water trickled through the gaps between his fingers, peeper going limp in his hands. His little workstation lacked a stove, a massive oversight on his part, but an understandable one since he didn’t have nearly enough materials to make a stable oven. The only thing he could make at the moment was an explosive hazard that’d cook anything in a five-foot radius to a charred crisp.

Charred Danny was a limited-time special dish, cooked via portal, and was unfortunately out of season forever. Like a discontinuation of tuna-flavored Oreos, nobody would be sad about it not being available. Surely, his fishy stalker would prefer him burnt like a marshmallow, but Danny isn't willing to indulge that preference. If he was going to be eaten, you bet your ass he’d be making this unpleasant for both of them.

Sheesh, he needed to find that guy's name. Or give him a new one. An insult wouldn’t do. Names had to mean something. This isn't a DND game, he can't just use a fantasy name generator and call it a day. No, this name had to be cool, not another “Inviso-Bill” scenario. His legs almost gave out in despair at the thought of being the one to give someone a name so stupid! He hadn’t done anything to deserve a punishment like that. Sure, his whole tapping routine was a migraine and a half, but he hadn’t done any harm. Even when Danny attacked him, he didn’t do anything, despite the fact he could’ve killed Danny with a single swipe from those razor-sharp claws.

Gritting his teeth at the thought of dying a third time in such an embarrassing way, he glanced down at the floppy fish still in his hands. Completely inedible, but Danny was getting pretty hungry at this point. Finding the strength to freeze the damn fish was difficult enough, he couldn’t just shoot lasers out his eyes and suddenly have a fully cooked peeper in his hands! All they had right now was the fabricator… Ugh, he scrunched his nose at the thought, but really, there were no other options for him at the moment. Oh, the ways humanity suffered for survival. Reluctantly giving the thawed peeper to cook, Danny began brainstorming names.

More information would be needed, he couldn’t just name him based on nothing! Swiping back to the fish guy’s databank, Danny studied it thoroughly. According to the PDA, this guy’s DNA was spliced, altered. Not in the getting electrocuted to death sense, but the genetically modified as an embryo kind of way. A perfectly functional hybrid between two unknown species that Danny guessed shouldn’t have been able to breed. But regardless, they came together to make this behemoth of a creature who looked as if he crawled through the deepest depths of hell just to scratch his freaking window.

!!!

He was going to call this guy Dami, short for damnation. It wasn’t an insult, it was cool! Danny would have died a third time to have been given a name as cool as that! Anything would’ve been better than Invis-o-bill. If Dami turned out to be the one who set up the ecto dampener he’d take back his cool nickname.

With a loud ding, Danny’s attention is brought back to his breakfast, now steaming at the fabricator. A small temperature warning flashed on his PDA the tablet setting a timer to let the fish cool down. If this had been any other food Danny might’ve been offended. The true way to eat something hot was to stuff it in your mouth and breathe out steam like a dragon while your taste buds burned! But this was fish, and a fish cooked by a fabricator no less. It was sure to taste like chemicals and Danny wasn’t looking to prolong the experience by choking on said chemical-tasting fish.

So he listened to the PDA if only to avoid a Skynet situation. It might just be data corruption but the AI seemed to be at the end of its rope. Remembering this AI had the choice to kill him with misinformation, messing with it further wasn’t the best idea. He’d toe the line of trolling, but ignoring it now felt like an invitation for it to short-circuit in his hands.

When the timer went off, Danny snatched the fish off the fabricator. The fish was still warm in his hands as he tore into it. Flaky, a faint, ashy aftertaste, barely noticeable if you hadn’t expected the off taste. Gutting the fish took away most of the artificial taste. Who knew vaporizing bones, organs, and tendons could fuck over any kind of palatability? Lasers sterilized the meat, giving it a hint of Space salmonella wasn’t a disease anyone was eager to catch. Maybe he’d get an award for his discovery but he’d rather not be sick with an alien infection when medical knowledge was as limited as it was now. Access to the intergalactic network was pretty much non-existent. They were out of the space confederation reach, meaning he was completely and utterly screwed if he caught anything serious.

What could bandages do for food poisoning? A whole lot of nothing, that’s what! They could only hope a doctor survived the crash and they could find them before any significant injuries happened. … Significant injuries to other survivors, that is. Danny’s going to fight a big ass fish!

Launching himself out the hatch seaglide in hand, Danny began circling Dami. His gigantic tail dragged against the sand, and he could only wonder how he got here in the first place. The shallows were too small for him to be a native. His body was built for the extreme pressures of water up to 8156 meters deep. His preferred environment should be as deep as deep should go. The probable pressure difference between the shallows and Dami’s home habitat was tremendous! It can't be healthy for him to be this close to the surface. Is this a beached whale situation? Did the crash damage his home?

With a databank incomplete, answering any important questions became increasingly difficult. Alterra’s handheld scanner was built to understand the basics. Deeper scans could show him the most complex parts of his biology. If he could build a beefier scanner, it would make things so much easier for him. Designing a table was several difficulty levels below designing a scanner that could record a species' entire makeup at a molecular level. Mistakingly blasting a poor, unsuspecting fish with radiation just to understand how this leviathan functioned would end poorly for both of them. It was easy for him to forget Dami's a teenager for his species. If he went around taking bone, blood, and muscle samples, not only would he feel bad but he'd probably be disemboweled by Dami's mom or Dad. While he's willing to throw hands with Dami, a 3v1 wouldn't be fair for the leviathans. Observation was what his self-preservation limited him to, and if this species happened to be one who liked getting into fights? That was a free blood sample right there. All he had to do now was stop him from destroying the coral tubes

Danny darted underneath Dami’s tail, the fish jolting backward, pulling his tail with him. Gritting his teeth, Danny continued to chase Dami’s tail, bringing the large fish closer and closer to the deeper grassy plateaus. Like dancing, a swing from Danny's blade triggers his partner into the right moves. Of course, the right moves were away from his fucking base! Dami might mean well, but in the end, he was scaring the bladderfish and destroying the shallows with his sheer mass!

Swinging one last time, Dami finally got the memo and swam a small distance away. Not quite close enough to see his entire base, but close enough for Danny to see him through the window. Like a kicked puppy, Dami rested his head on his arms. It almost made him feel bad, but the trail of uprooted plants and panicking fish the leviathan left in his wake canceled out any guilt.

“Caution. Continued degradation of the Aurora’s drive core may result in a quantum detonation. Continuing to monitor,”

…Shit.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #subnautica au #Damian gets a cool nickname

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callofdooty69 · 4 months

Text

i’m feeling extra delusional today so here are some silly little cod headcanons ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

cw: (very VERY little amount of suggestive content), profanity, mention of “boob” so

captain john price

absolutely terrified of spiders to the point where he’ll practically jump on you if he sees even the smallest daddy longlegs

holds his kid by the feet on occasion

burped in front of everyone at a meeting one time. it was dead silent and the lads still make fun of him for it

laughed uncontrollably when he saw soap with his mohawk for the first time and had to convince him not to just shave it off after hearing his giggles

calls gaz his “work wife” in a very serious tone

uses “cringe” emojis like 😅😂🤬

one time he was butt ass naked at three in the morning, shaving his beard in the communal bathroom. made ghost promise not to tell anyone what he unfortunately witnessed

says “jolly good time” like it’s a prayer

the man will tease you for letting out a little toot when his farts could kill a victorian child (i’m so sorry)

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

slaps soap on the ass at least four times a day

called ghost his “wittle pwincess” as a joke and almost got his ass beat if it weren’t for price holding him back

a huge lightweight when it comes to drinking. like one shot of vodka will have him throwing up in the nearest toilet

shit his pants in the middle of training one time because he got food poisoning from eating too many freeze-dried skittles

said “womp womp” when soap told him he got broken up with (before the two of you together)

pokes your boob when he’s bored (consensually of course)

johnny/john ‘soap’ mactavish

cried when he found out titanic wasn’t actually based off of a true story

also slaps gaz on the ass daily

one time accidentally put a shit ton of salt in ghost’s coffee, mistaking it for sugar

ghost asked him to test how many oreos he could fit in his mouth without chewing. he made it to 19 before he almost choked to death

practiced kissing with a stuffed teddy bear when he was twelve. his mom has it on video and will never let him live it down

picks you up at random times of the day. washing dishes? perfect. making lunch? wonderful opportunity to throw you over his shoulder

bites you when he’s bored and wants attention, not hard enough to hurt but he just rests his mouth and teeth on you

when in public he always has to take an anxiety piss. he could have gone right before you both left and he would still run around looking for the bathroom and take a two minute long piss

shit in the pool. you might be thinking ‘oh this was when he was a child, right?’ no. he was 26.

simon ‘ghost’ riley

one time lost his mask and had a conniption fit for two hours, which is understandable. he was wearing it the entire time. went on a violent rampage for no reason

also uses “cringe” emojis

you walked in on him trying on your bra one time. you both didn’t move for about two minutes before you pulled out your phone and sent a picture to everyone else. he punished you that night if you know what i mean

says “laugh out loud” instead of actually laughing

burned his tongue when he tried to fit an entire bowl of ramen noodles in his mouth in one sitting

laughs in horrible situations

the king of “my bad homeboy” and “on god”

one time soap told him that saying “babygirl” to someone was a form of high respect and said “you’re absolutely right, babygirl” to price in a very serious meeting and everyone laughed after a moment of silence and genuine concern for his well-being. chased johnny around base for an hour after that

he had to change a diaper for price after he had his kid one time and she shit in his face. he made the horrible mistake of not wearing his mask in that moment

lays his head on your ass and calls you his “personal plump pillow”

found out he was deathly allergic to peanut butter after eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was made up of half a jar of jiffy and less than a quarter of a tube of jelly

könig

thought “passenger princess” meant driving around with a barbie doll in the passenger seat of a car

almost had a mental breakdown when you told him that girls do, in fact, poop

got a flat tire in the middle of nowhere and his phone was dead. walked four miles to a gas station for gas but then forgot which direction he came from

he genuinely thought that babies come from the butthole up until he was seventeen

you recorded him sleep talking one time when he was mumbling incoherent german and out of literally nowhere said “stream taylor swift”

watches “keeping up with the kardashians” like it’s his religion

munch

anyways… you were yelling with your friend on the phone one time in a joking way and könig ripped the phone out of your hands and said “fuck off” and apologized profusely to both you and your friend after finding out it wasn’t actual anger and that you two were just joking over the phone

****

let me know if i should make more, or if i should make some specifically nsfw 😏

anons are open as always ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

- 𝓀.𝒿

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lamardeuse · 3 days

Text

Quand il me prend dans ses bras

911 | Buck/Eddie | Rated M | c. 3800 words

for @devirnis, prompt: "it’s cold." "c'mere. my arms are warmer."

Eddie's being crabby and he knows it. He tells himself to stop it, it's only going to be a couple of days.

It doesn't work.

When Bobby decided to send him and Buck on a three-night training session on fighting brush and wildfires, he thought it would be at a hotel. Not a resort – he wasn't expecting a spa and a gourmet restaurant – but a basic-ass hotel would have been nice.

As they walk down the winding lane from the parking lot to their accommodations, Eddie's face falls.

“That is not a hotel,” he declares.

Buck, on the other hand, is delighted. “Oh, this is cool!” he exclaims.

“I think you mean cold,” Eddie says. “As in we're going to freeze.” The nights up here were not like they were in LA.

“I'm sure it'll be fine,” Buck assures him.

“It's a tent in the mountains in the middle of April.”

“It's a yurt,” Buck corrects, still grinning, totally undaunted by Eddie's lack of enthusiasm.

“That makes a difference?”

“No, but it's –” Buck waves a hand. “I've just always wanted to stay in a yurt, that's all.”

Eddie sighs. “Okay, yeah, I'm sure it'll be – whatever. It's only three nights.”

Buck stops outside one of the structures. “Sixty-two, this one's ours.”

“What's this?” Eddie asks, poking at the box sitting outside the door.

“Oh, that's the food storage box.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Why do we need a large metal container for storing food?”

Buck's already opening the door. “Hm? Oh, because of the bears, of course,” he says.

“Of course,” Eddie says weakly. Right, how could he have forgotten the number one reason he's never been the least bit interested in camping. Oh, but it's fine, they've given everyone something to keep their Oreos in, that'll keep them perfectly safe.

Eddie wonders if both of them could squeeze in there if a bear were rushing toward them right now. He tilts his head, contemplating how easily he could fold himself like a pretzel. His verdict: unlikely.

“Oh,” Buck says, and for a hot second Eddie wonders if a grizzly has already found its way inside and is making itself at home in their ten – sorry, yurt.

Eddie peeks around Buck's shoulder and sees that the room is blessedly bear-free. However, there is another problem.

“Huh,” he says at the bed. The only bed in the room. He hopes it's a queen, but from here it looks smaller than that.

Buck bites his lip. “Should I – uh, should I see if they have another room with two singles?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I heard the clerk say the place was fully booked when we were checking in.”

“Maybe someone will want to switch?”

“I don't imagine there are a lot of couples on this training,” Eddie says. “It'll be fine.”

“Yeah?” Buck looks at him. Eddie keeps his eyes on the bed. “I mean, sure,” Buck adds hastily. “We shared during quarantine, it wasn't a big deal.”

Eddie doesn't point out that there's been a lot of history under the bridge since then, near-deaths and actual deaths and rebirths and wills and girlfriends and a boyfriend and now here they are, both of them single and Eddie wondering what the hell will finish him first, hungry bears in search of Doritos or sleeping next to Evan Buckley in a fucking yurt.

“Nope,” Eddie agrees. “Not a big deal at all.”

read the rest at the AO3

#my stuff #911 on abc #buddie #buddie fic

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okaylikesmomo · 1 year

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Chapter 2: Patience

Due to the nature of your living situation, you didn’t always get to wake up next to Chaewon, but it was always a treat when you did. Naturally, you woke up first as Chaewon was known to be a bit slow in the mornings. You slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

After returning to the bed, you lay down next to Chaewon again. The cute girl rolls over and reaches for her phone, still barely awake. She checks the time and quickly jumps up.

“Oh my god! I am so late!” she screams while running to the bathroom. “Why didn’t you wake me?!” she shouts through the door.

You sit up in the bed and start to smile, wondering when she would figure it out. Chaewon finishes brushing her teeth before running out of the bathroom wearing just her underwear.

“Darling…” you try to get her attention.

“Seriously I cannot believe you, what is the point of sleeping over if you’re not going to wake me up,” she rambles on while rummaging through her closet.

You start laughing, “Chaewon!”

She turns to you while holding some random clothes, “what is so funny?”

“Remember the conversation you and Kazuha had in the car yesterday?”

She angrily returns to the closet, “I don’t have time for this, we have an evaluation this morning.”

You stand up and walk to the closet. “Sweetheart,” you say while hugging her back. “Your instructor is ill, you don’t have an evaluation this morning.”

Chaewon freezes for a moment before dropping the clothes she was holding and turning around. “I’m so sorry,” she says while hugging you. “I completely forgot.”

You rub her back, “it’s alright, I get it.”

She holds onto you for a bit as if it brought her great comfort. “This means we have some time to kill,” Chaewon says softly. “How about we get back into bed?”

“We could do that,” you reply as you slide your hands down her back and grab two handfuls of her ass.

She giggles before running over to the bed. You follow her and slip under the bedsheets next to her. She kisses you on the mouth again before sliding under the sheets. She planted kisses all the way down your chest, spaced about an inch apart. She kept kissing lower until she reached your navel.

You lifted the sheets slightly so that you could see the top of her head. You slipped one hand down and placed it on the back of her head, getting a handful of her oreo hair. She slid a little bit lower until her mouth found the outline of your cock through your underwear. She pressed her lips to your tip and used her tongue to cover your underwear in her saliva.

All of a sudden there was a knock on the door and you quickly pulled down the sheets.

Eunchae peeks her head through the door slightly, “Chaewon-ah? Oh, oppa, where’s Chaewon unnie?”

“Oh, umm, she’s in the bathroom, what’s up?” you answer while Chaewon hid under the sheets.

“Could you let her know Yunjin unnie made breakfast for us?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Thanks oppa,” Eunchae smiles at you. “And of course you are also invited.”

She closes the door and Chaewon slides out from under the bedsheets. She looks at you with a bit of regret in her eyes.

“Oh, they made breakfast and are waiting for us,” you say casually.

The two of you start laughing. “I promise we’ll eventually…”

“Really, don’t worry,” you cut her off before pulling her in for a kiss.

“Tonight, no matter what, we are spending some alone time together,” Chaewon says definitively.

–

“I thought we were supposed to sleep in,” Sakura says while poking at her food.

“We did sleep in,” Yunjin replies while taking a seat next to Sakura. “It’s already ten.”

“I wanted to sleep in more,” Sakura mumbles quietly.

Next to you, Eunchae laughs quietly. “Kkura unnie is almost as bad with mornings as Chaewon unnie.”

Chaewon looks up from her food, surprised by the comment. “Hey! I didn’t even say anything.”

“She has a point though,” Yunjin says from the far side of the table.

“Yeah she’s not wrong,” Sakura adds.

“Ah, everyone is so mean today,” Chaewon whines while returning to her food.

You felt something under the table and turned to Chaewon who was sitting next to you. She, however, didn’t even look up. If she wanted your attention she had it, but it seemed like she didn’t care. Perhaps it was a mistake, you think to yourself while returning to your food. Then you felt it again, much harder against your foot. You turned to face Chaewon again.

“Hm? Do you also wanna be mean?” she asks angrily.

“Oh, I just wanted to say, isn't this breakfast lovely?” you say before turning to your right towards the other end of the table. “Thank you Yunjin.”

“Ah, finally someone appreciates what I did,” she replies happily. “You’re welcome!”

Next to you Eunchae tried to speak up, but she had just taken a big bite and was clearly struggling to speak.

“Slow down Manchae,” Sakura laughs at the younger girl. “The food isn’t going anywhere.”

Yunjin also bursts out laughing as Eunchae tries to swallow the bite. Her cheeks were so cutely plumped up while she chewed. Eventually, she gets through the food.

“I just wanted to say I also appreciate it,” Eunchae gasps.

A couple of laughs go around the table when you feel something slide up your leg. Although, this time you realized the culprit when you looked directly across the table at Kazuha who was looking down at her empty plate while smirking slightly. Her eyes peeked upwards slightly and she saw you staring at her which made her start smiling.

She was avoiding your gaze, but now she was becoming more audacious beneath the table. You felt her foot slide up your leg and onto your thigh. She pressed down playfully against the top of your thigh before bringing her other foot up onto your other thigh. She made a couple of circles with her heel before tapping her feet up and down on the top of your thighs. Then she slowly slides her feet down the insides of your thighs and spreads your legs slightly.

You could see that she was trying her best not to laugh as the rest of the table was quietly eating, completely oblivious to what was going on beneath the table. You felt her foot move forward, her toes lightly pressing down on your crotch. You could feel her sliding her foot back and forth, rubbing your private bits over your pants.

Next to you, Chaewon had finished eating and stood up from the table; She noticed Kazuha’s plate was also empty. “Zuha, can you help me with dishes?”

Kazuha quickly nods, “yeah.”

Before she could stand up, you quickly reached below the table and grabbed her ankles. She looked at you with wide-eyes while you held onto her, not letting her stand up.

“Coming?” Chaewon asks while walking towards the kitchen.

“Yeah just a second!”

Sakura, who had also just finished eating, stood up and was starting to get suspicious of what was going on. She looked down at Kazuha’s empty plate and then at you with raised eyebrows. She must have figured it out after Kazuha started to giggle, because she started walking towards the kitchen with a smile on her face while shaking her head.

After teasing Kazuha a bit more while she squirmed her feet in your lap, you finally let go of her ankles and let her go free. She stands up, still giggling, before walking over to the kitchen with her empty plate. The other two girls at the table paid no attention as Eunchae was still happily eating while Yunjin was checking something on her phone.

You finish up the rest of your food before also getting up and dropping your plate off in the kitchen. Kazuha was rinsing off the dishes and loading the dishwasher with Sakura when she saw you walk up. Kazuha started to smirk again, turning to face away from you. Sakura washed her hands, very aware of what was going on, and then gave Kazuha’s butt a playful slap before leaving the kitchen and going to her room.

You place your plate in the sink while very intentionally leaning as close to Kazuha as you could, placing one hand on her back while the other reaches into the sink. The Japanese girl giggles before trapping your arm between her arm and her body. She held your arm tight against her body, and you could feel every muscle of her superb core.

“You’re stuck,” she says matter-of-factly as she continues to rinse the dishes.

You slide your other hand around her back so that it is pressed against her core from the other side, putting Kazuha in a bit of a hug. “No, you’re trapped.”

She playfully wiggles her body, pretending to try and break free, all while smiling brightly back over her shoulder towards you.

“Let me go,” she whines adorably before spinning in your grip with incredible strength so that she’s facing towards you with your arms still wrapped around her sides.

The two of you were now face to face. Kazuha was staring deeply into your eyes, and for a brief moment that playfully naughty girl disappeared. She was beautiful with very minimal makeup on. Then, all of a sudden, she brought her wet hands up and flicked a few water drops onto your face: The exuberant girl was back. You let go of her and wiped your face while she giggled, and you found yourself also smiling.

You left the kitchen and headed upstairs to Chaewon’s room while Kazuha returned to the dishes. As you entered her room, you found her sitting at her desk, once again in her underwear. She was touching up her makeup, applying a bit of eyeliner.

“Kazuha’s flirting with me again.”

Chaewon looks up at you and laughs before quickly returning her attention to the mirror. “Yeah, remind me to set up that date later.”

You walk up behind Chaewon and bury your face into her neck. “When will you be back?” you ask while she continues to finish up her makeup.

“It’s hard to say, I think it might be a bit late tonight,” she answers, a bit of regret in her voice. “You can come in again, but I have a feeling I won’t get much break time today. Our comeback is too soon.”

“Why do you have to practice so much, you’re already so perfect.”

She smiles at you through the mirror. “I’m not perfect, but I am sorry that I’ve been so busy.”

You turn your face and give her a kiss on the cheek before standing up straight. “It’s alright, I’ll just get some work done and then we can hangout tonight like you promised,” you respond while taking a seat on her bed.

She turns around on her chair so that she’s facing you, her expression showing sadness. “Will you at least stay here? We have food and snacks downstairs, you can help yourself to anything.”

You smiled understandingly and nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

–

The day went by relatively uneventfully. You basically switched between working and watching random YouTube videos throughout the day. You got a couple of texts from Chaewon throughout the day whenever she had a quick break, it seemed like she would be later than expected tonight.

Despite procrastinating quite a bit, you actually ended up getting a lot of work done. It was nice to get ahead, knowing that in a couple of days Le Sserafim would be releasing Antifragile and you would want your schedule to be free during those initial promos.

It was starting to get late and you were honestly getting a bit tired, so you decided to lay down on Chaewon’s bed. It felt comfier than normal, and you felt your eyelids getting heavier. Maybe it would be best to take a quick nap, you thought. You slowly dozed off to sleep.

After a short nap, you woke up and checked the time. It was already 1 AM and the girls weren’t back yet. This wasn’t particularly uncommon, it wouldn’t be the first time they were out this late practicing. You decided to just relax for a bit and listen to a bit of music.

Eventually, you heard a bit of commotion downstairs. You started to hear the sound of their voices as they just got home. There were a couple of footsteps coming up the stairs when Chaewon opens her door and walks in.

She looked absolutely exhausted, and your heart sank a little bit seeing her this tired. She walked forward towards the bed and then crashed down onto your body.

“I’m tired,” she whispered with the side of her face resting on your chest.

You hugged her and rubbed her back. “It’s so late, you must be exhausted.”

“We practiced and practiced and practiced, and then since our instructor wasn’t feeling well we had to send her videos of our practice. Then while she reviewed them, we worked out, just to come back and practice more with her feedback.”

You leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “Awwh, I’m proud of you. You worked so hard today.”

“It was the last hard day,” she sighs. “We scored extremely well, so the next few days are going to be much lighter. They want us fresh and ready for the comeback.” She lifts herself up so that she can see your face. “I promised we would spend some time together tonight,” she says.

You pulled her up closer and kissed her softly. Very gently moving your mouth against hers before leaning back. “I think it’s best if you get some rest.”

“I can… I can still-”

You kiss her again, stopping her mid sentence. Your hands gently explore her back while you kiss.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to do anything tonight,” you say softly.

She lets out a heavy sigh and falls back onto your body. “I really love you,” she whispers warmly into your chest.

Before you could say it back, she had fallen asleep. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit disappointed, but you cared so much more about her wellbeing over anything else. You let the feel of her breathing bring you into a cathartic trance for a bit before deciding to get some water.

You carefully roll over the precious girl so that she’s laying on her back and tuck her in. You get out of the bed and give her a little kiss on the forehead before leaving the room and heading downstairs. When you get there, you find Eunchae sitting on the couches by herself, watching some drama on the TV. You head into the kitchen and pour a glass of water.

“Feeling better?” you ask.

Eunchae turns around, “yeah, a lot better, it really did just take one day.” She sees you holding the glass of water and starts to smile mischievously. “You better hurry up, Chaewon unnie seems to get very upset when you take too long getting her a drink.”

You chuckle at her silliness when the two Japanese members appear. Kazuha walks right up to you and takes the glass out of your hand before sitting down at one of the kitchen stools and downing it. Sakura walks over to where Eunchae was sitting.

“Alright, show me where,” Sakura instructs as she opens a little jar of ointment.

Eunchae lifts her pant leg up to show some mild bruising while Sakura begins applying the ointment. It wasn’t uncommon for idols to have small injuries after practice, especially for certain choreo.

“You guys must have worked so hard today,” you remark as you watch Sakura.

She looks over at you while massaging Eunchae’s leg. “It’s part of the business,” she says with a tired but soft smile.

You sit on the stool next to Kazuha. “You feeling alright? I heard you had a long day” you ask the girl.

“Feeling great,” she says quietly as she leans her head onto your shoulder.

Her response was a bit of a shock, usually she had all the playful energy in the world when it came to you. She was still the same Kazuha, but you could tell she was way too tired to tease you tonight. You rub her thigh gently, letting her rest on you.

“I’m so excited for you girls,” you comment, but Kazuha doesn’t respond. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You feel her head nod against your shoulder. It was strange, you’ve never seen Kazuha acting this way with you. You think back to what Chaewon said about Kazuha never having a romantic relationship before. There was this weird bond of affection between the two of you right now, and you could feel the amount of comfort she felt around you.

Seeing Kazuha in this vulnerable state made your insides fill with warmth. You never really addressed it before, but you genuinely cherished the relationship you had built with Kazuha. You cared for her in an unexplainable way. It brought you great satisfaction knowing she was as comfortable around you as she was.

Sakura stands up from the couch and walks over to you. “Here, in case Chaewon needs it,” she says while handing you the little jar. “Come on Zuha, bed time.” Sakura pulls Kazuha off of you with both hands and the girl starts walking towards her bedroom. “Eunchae, make sure Yunjin also takes care of herself,” Sakura adds while Eunchae stands up and stretches.

You start refilling the glass of water when Eunchae walks towards the stairs. She sees you filling the glass and giggles. “Yah Eunchae stop being silly,” you laugh as the girl runs up the stairs. You down the glass before refilling it once more for Chaewon and heading upstairs.

“What was that all about?” Sakura asks, confused by the interaction.

“Eunchae won’t stop teasing Chaewon and me about… stuff.”

“Ahh,” Sakura interjects. ”Stuff...”

There is a bit of an awkward silence between the two of you as Sakura looks around the room with her lips pursed.

You decide to break the silence. “You do a really great job of taking care of them all.”

There is a short pause before she replies.

“I feel like…” she begins while staring at the glass in your hand. “Since I’m the oldest, and I’ve been in the industry for so long, I feel like it’s my responsibility to look out for them.”

“You’ve always looked out for others, it’s one of the things I used to love so much about you.”

You notice her cheeks gain a tint of rosiness as she looks away, another awkward silence falls upon the two of you.

“You… also do a good job,” Sakura says quietly.

“Oh.”

It felt like the wrong thing to say, but you had no idea how to respond.

Sakura looks up at you, a bit of regret in her expression. “Sorry, I meant like with Chaewon. I can see how happy you make her. Also the others, you may not realize it, but the way they treat you is the way they only treat the other members. You’re basically an extension of our group at this point.”

She was speaking quickly, something Sakura did when she got stressed. Memories started to flood back in, and without thinking you took a step towards her. She looked up at you with her eyes wide in shock. She froze. The two of you stood there staring at each other.

Sakura closed her eyes slowly, and she began to slightly move her lips forward. Right before your lips touched, her eyes shot open and fear filled her pupils. She quickly turned around, and you heard her sniffle quietly.

“Sakura… I’m so sorry,” you begin as you reach for her hand.

She pulls away at your touch. “Don’t apologize, nothing happened,” she says, her voice wavering. “I’ll… goodnight,” she says while briskly heading towards her room, wiping her eyes as she walks.

You stood there by yourself in the silence of the house, a rush of emotions bombarding your brain. You bring your fist to your forehead and tap it lightly, regretting everything that just happened, before walking up the stairs.

After returning to Chaewon’s room you quietly place the glass and the ointment on her side table. You pick up your bag and start heading to the door.

“Don’t go,” Chaewon whispers from the bed.

Your heart skips a beat when you turn around to see Chaewon is awake. You put your bag down and walk back over to the bed, sitting next to her and stroking her short hair. She looked adorably tiny as she was tucked into the sheets. You felt a painful tinge of betrayal inside you as you looked down at her, but you didn’t want her to know.

“You sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble,” you reply hesitantly.

“Please can you stay with me,” she requests with utmost tenderness.

You felt awful, the way she was asking you so desperately after what just happened downstairs behind her back. You wanted to confess, but you didn’t have it in you to hurt her tonight. Not when she was this vulnerable.

You lean down and kiss her before sliding into the bedsheets. “Of course I can.”

She turns to face you with a confused expression. “Do you not want to stay or something?”

It hurt you so much to hide things from her, but you noticed the slightest quiver in her lip and you just couldn’t find the strength to confess. At least, not for now.

“I always want to stay with you,” you answer. It was the truth, you still loved her more than anything.

Content with your answer, Chaewon slides over closer to you. “Tomorrow is a shorter day by the way, and then we get the next day off.”

“Perfect,” you mutter as you close your eyes and try to let your body relax. You felt Chaewon put an arm around your torso, cuddling as close as possible. As she fell asleep with her arms around you, there was this worry in the back of your mind that she could feel your heart pumping like you had just run a marathon.

–

You were blessed enough to wake up next to Chaewon again this morning, and you found that she was still holding onto you. You started to carefully remove her arms so that you could get up, but you felt her squeeze tighter.

“There’s still time,” she says quietly, her eyes still closed.

You fall back into the soft pillows. “I didn’t realize you were awake, did you sleep alright?”

She slowly opens her eyes, “best I’ve slept in a while.”

“So how much time do we have?” you ask as you slide a hand down her body and give her butt a playful squeeze.

She giggles before sitting up in the bed. “Not enough time for that, unfortunately,” she answers before leaning over and giving you a short kiss on the cheek. “Tonight, though, I am free.”

“Text me when you’re done, I’ll come pick you up.”

You relaxed in her bed for a bit longer while watching her get ready. After the girls left, you stopped by the store on your way home to pick up a few ingredients. You had planned to make Chaewon a home-cooked meal tonight since you knew the girls ended up eating out a lot these days; The menu would include a spicy kimchi jjigae and some meat that you’d be grilling. You returned home and spent the day working until you got a text from Chaewon.

CW: hey, just wrapping up now

YOU: yeah I’ll be there soon

You grab your keys and put on a jacket before heading to your car.

–

“Whoa whoa whoa!” you shout as Chaewon jumps into your arms. “Someone’s excited.”

“We got so much praise today,” she says while smiling brightly, her legs wrapped around your waist. “And now they gave us time to relax before d-day.”

You gently put her down. “Good job! I’m so proud,” you say, pulling her into a hug. Over her shoulder you saw the rest of the group walking by. You noticed Sakura was watching the two of you, but as soon as you looked over she turned away as if she didn’t want you to notice. Before you could process what happened, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you.

“We did it!” Kazuha shouts, joining in on the hug.

Another body joins in. “Let’s go girls!” Yunjin exclaims.

It seems you were part of the girls now as the three of them were giggling and jumping up and down while hugging you.

“We’re going out as a group tomorrow, you wanna come?” Yunjin asks you as the girls separate.

“Ah, I don’t know, maybe it should be a thing with just the members?” you answer hesitantly.

“Oh stop being a baby,” Eunchae adds from the side. “Just come.”

The four of them were pestering you, trying to convince you to tag along when Sakura speaks up from the side.

“I think it would be nice if you came,” she says softly.

The two of you made eye contact and for a moment it was as if the world paused, but only for the two of you.

“Alright fine I’ll come.”

The other four erupt in cheers, and Kazuha hugs you hard from behind making you buckle forward. It was a movie-esque scene of happiness, but for some reason you had a peculiar feeling in the back of your mind.

“What are we even doing by the way?” you ask as the girls start walking towards the van, trying to ignore the intrusion.

“We don’t know yet,” Yunjin replies. “We’ll figure it out later.”

“Can we get ice cream?” Eunchae asks. “I’ve been craving mint chocolate ice cream.”

“Ewwwww,” Kazuha whines. “That’s the worst flavor.”

“What?!” Chaewon counters while standing next to Eunchae like her bodyguard. “I’m team mint chocolate all the way.”

“Girls girls, stop fighting,” Sakura interjects as she joins the group like a mother. “We can all go get ice cream tomorrow. As long as it’s not mint chocolate,” she adds.

All hell breaks loose as the girls start arguing, and you find yourself just watching the commotion with Yunjin.

“What side are you on?” you ask her.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m a fan but not enough to fight over it. It must be a top-floor type of thing.”

You chuckle at her comment as a van pulls up.

“Uh, girls, I think this is for you.”

They ignore you completely and continue debating about various ice cream flavors.

“GIRLS!” Yunjin shouts, making all of them turn to face her in shock. “Our ride is here,” she adds casually with a warm smile.

Everyone looked a bit confused for a moment, but then they started making their way towards the van.

“Are you going with him?” Sakura asks Chaewon.

“Yeah, I’ll meet everyone back at the dorm tomorrow.”

“Oooo, spending the night,” Eunchae teases. “Oppa, make sure you get her whatever drink she wants.”

Both Sakura and Chaewon playfully scold the younger girl as she enters the van. Sakura gives Chaewon a quick hug before turning to you. It looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she just nodded respectfully before also entering the van behind the others. All of the other members leave while Chaewon stays behind with you. After they turn the corner, she latches onto your arm and looks up at you cutely.

“We might not know the plan for tomorrow, but I know what I want to do tonight,” she says seductively.

“And what would that be?” you ask while pulling her into a hug and slowly sliding your hand down the back of her pants.

“Yah, not here in public,” she responds in a hushed tone while pushing your arm and giggling.

“Why not? We have plenty of privacy.”

The two of you watch as a car drives by before looking at each other and laughing.

“You just have to wait a little longer, I promise,” she says lovingly to you.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She starts to smirk up at you. “Oh yeah? You want to strip me down, bend me over, and fuck me right here in front of my company building?”

“Yeah, and I don’t give a shit who watches,” you growl while pushing her against your car door.

Chaewon was starting to get extremely flustered, her breathing was becoming erratic. “Keep talking like that and I might just let you,” she moans.

“Let me?” you spoke the words directly into her ear while putting your hands against the car on either side of her small frame. “I’m going to have you begging for it,” you whisper into her ear before leaning in and nibbling lightly on her earlobe.

She sharply inhales at the feel of your lips and her body slumps down slightly as if she was losing the ability to hold herself up.

“I won’t… beg…” she pants as your mouth had slid down her neck.

You kiss her soft skin, making her tilt her head upwards to the sky above. You kiss her a few more times, but you take it slower now and make sure your lips press against every piece of her skin. You stand up straight and press your body as close to hers as possible with your face right beside hers.

Your hands leave the car and find refuge on Chaewon’s ass. You give her a very hard and thorough grope, and she fills your ears with her heavy breaths. As you groped her soft ass, you pushed your chest even harder against her body, pinning her to the car. You could feel her soft tits pushing back, forming to the shape of your body.

If you were to release her now, you were certain she would fall to the ground. She had no more strength, she was like playdough in your hands now. You lean back slightly so that you are face to face again, and you see her half-lidded eyes in a trance.

Her mouth was slightly agape, and you took the opportunity to press your lips against hers again. This time the kiss was far more wet than last time, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was having her body in your control.

“Fine,” she moans after you free her lips. “Just fuck me already.”

You step back and open the car door for her. She had a look of visible disappointment and frustration with you; She actually wanted you to take her right here in the middle of the street. It was, obviously, far too risky though. You leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek before the two of you sat down in your car. You noticed she had a conflicted look on her face.

You smile at her. “Sweetie, I’m not going to be responsible for you losing your career.”

She sighs understandingly. “I know, you just… got me excited.”

You reach your hand over into her lap. “Show me how excited you are.” you demand as you slide your fingers into her sweatpants and press them against her underwear, feeling a moist spot through the fabric.

Chaewon grabs your wrist. “Wait til we’re home, I can’t do this anymore.”

You stare at her pleading face for a moment before uttering a single word.

“No.”

Your hand slips down her underwear and immediately finds her tight folds. You rub the skin back and forth, making her juices pour out like a faucet, before pressing down around her pussy. Her grip on your wrist went limp as a singular, drawn out breath escaped her lips.

As you were starting to coat your fingers with her warm nectar, she clenched down on your arm by squeezing her legs tightly. She was glaring at you in the most lustfully rage-filled way possible.

“I’m going to fucking kill you if you don’t start driving,” she breathes while her lower body squirms.

The corners of your lips raise involuntarily and you start to withdraw your hand. Chaewon, however, wouldn’t allow it, and she kept her legs tightly closed with both of her hands grabbing your wrist now. You couldn’t contain your smile as you reached over with the far hand to shift into drive.

A/N:

Unforgiven is amazing and I can't stop listening to it. SOTY material for me so far. Also, very inspiring when it comes to writing this story! I'm not going to really explain anything, I want the words to do the talking for me. Hit a few notes that I wasn't expecting to hit in this chapter, but overall happy with how it turned out.

As always, let me know what you think if you would like to share your thoughts. You can reach me basically anywhere.

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aloneinthehellfire · 7 months

Text

Chapter Ten: Part One: The Lab

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 7921

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, blood/gore, horror

[A/N: I went a little crazy, threw in a buttload of angst, and then proceeded to eat 3 packs of oreos so... we're in for a wild one. I also haven't proofread this properly so it could be the single worst piece of writing you've ever read. Enjoy :)]

Part One: The Lab

“Ow! My arm doesn’t bend that way, idiot!”

“Sorry, your highness, but there’s not much I can do when you’re caught in metal wire.”

“I actually hate you both.”

When you finally manage to snag your arm free, you send a glare to the boy hiding a laugh and take your shotgun from him.

The ride to the lab had been quick, immediately finding a safe place to park and scope out the area. It was pure chance you had managed to notice the tear in the surrounding fence, a quick and quiet entry.

Robin steps through next, holding her arms to her chest like she would lose them, and meeting you on the other side. She blinks, relaxing her shoulders.

“Wow, that wasn’t nearly as hard as you made it look.” She chuckles and you purse your lips in irritation.

“Can we just get into this lab?” You say, looking back at the white building in the distance. There was still a stretch of field ahead, no guarantee that it would be monster-free.

“We keep our weapons ready, stay alert, take it easy.” Steve comments, suddenly appearing next to you.

Noticing the closed distance, you shuffle away from him and look to Robin, ignoring the frown on his face.

“You good?” You ask your friend, her eyes wide as she slowly nods.

“Oh, yeah.” She sighs, looking defeated. “I am perfectly fine with crossing an open space to a lab with some kind of interdimensional gate that these apocalypse monsters are crawling out of. What could go wrong?”

“Just stay close.” You sympathise with a hand on her shoulder.

Steve took lead while you covered behind, leaving Robin safer in the middle. She was weapon-less, and you all needed to make it through this.

The occasional distant sound of a snap echoed across the grass and the walk across the field barely lasted six seconds before Robin shakes her head in refusal.

“Okay, someone’s gotta talk to me or I’m gonna freak out.” Robin gasps, jumping at another sound of a snapped twig.

“About what?” Steve frowns, eyes darting around the clearing with his bat wielded for battle.

“Anything.” She pleads, finally looking to you. “Y/n?”

“Uh… sure, Robs, just ask a question or something.” You say, not really paying much attention. You’d rather keep your sight on the space behind you all, ensuring there were no blind spots for a surprise arrival.

“Okay.” She sighs, taking deep breaths. “Um, what, uh… oh, how was detention?”

You almost laugh, shaking your head. “It was detention, Robs, not a vacation.”

“I know but the last time I saw you, you were heading there and then, like, half an hour later the world blew up.” Robin reminds you as she bites her lip.

“Well,” You continue, knowing that if you stop, she’ll only panic more. “It was okay. Holloway was being his usual self, I was trying to get work done. Harrington decided to crash the party.”

“You were a delightful host as always.” Steve comments and you scoff.

You roll your eyes, glancing over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you didn’t accidentally step on Robin’s heel.

“Were you there when everything started?” She asks and you almost freeze, breath hitching.

“Yeah… yeah, we were.” You swallow that fear.

“What happened?”

You were silent, a little too silent. Steve usually revelled in making you agitated and uncomfortable, but he had that churning feeling in his gut when he saw the startled look on your face.

“Look, Robin, it wasn’t really something we wanna talk about.” He tries but you clear your throat.

“No, no, it’s fine.” You say, gripping the shotgun tighter. “We were in the classroom when we, uh, heard something. Outside. Holloway…”

“Wait here, please. I’ll be back as soon as I find out what’s going on.” He announces, collecting his keys and leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Holloway went to investigate.” You gulp, already regretting this decision. “He, uh, he was gone for a while. There was a scream and I… I thought it was just some other kids being assholes, you know? So I left to find him and…”

“And?” Robin prompts, but you’ve slowed your steps.

He’s snarling as he claws at your jumper, pulling you down to the ground with him. In haste you try and push him off of you, but this man was a lot bigger than you, wrapping his hands around your throat and smashing your head into the cold ground.

Struggling against his weight, he rears his head closer to you.

“Stop!” You try, his tightening grip on your neck releasing the word as a strained whisper.

Steve glances back to see you’ve stopped completely, gently holding out his hand before Robin crashed into him. She turns, wide eyed.

“Y/n?” She moves closer.

“He attacked me.” You say quietly, hearing your friend’s breath hitch in her throat. “He… was different. His mouth just… opened. And he was strong. A lot stronger than me. I thought he was gonna kill me. He was going to kill me.”

Steve finds his fist curling at his side, eyes wide as you finally tell the full story.

“What happened?” Robin questions with a whisper, almost like she was too scared to know the truth.

“I stopped him.” You sigh, turning to see they were both looking at you with mournful eyes. “I killed him, okay? I grabbed a fire extinguisher, and I swung it as hard as I could into his head.”

Steve felt sick. You had both been through so much since detention that it had barely crossed his mind.

His feet rounded the corner so quickly he almost slipped on the slick floor. He glanced down, heart racing until it burned his throat with bile. Blood.

‘I’m too late.’ he thought, dodging a body laying against the wall. It wasn’t you, the build all too different to have him second guess.

He hadn’t connected the dots, barely even glanced at the body, the face. In fact, Steve hadn’t thought about what happened to Mr Holloway at all until just now. And he made himself sick realising that maybe you were right. Maybe he only ever focused on himself.

“Y/n-” Robin reaches out.

“It’s fine.” You interrupt, shrugging. “It’s the freaking apocalypse, right? All sorts of messed up shit is gonna happen. I killed Holloway. And I killed Steve’s neighbour.”

You laugh awkwardly, Robin’s features growing in concern.

“But they were… mutants. Part Demogorgon.”

“Part what?” Robin blinks and Steve tunes back into reality, looking at her.

“It’s a DnD thing.” He replies and Robin raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know that, dingus, but why the hell are we saying part Demogorgon?” She stresses, looking back to you. “Is there a real-life Demogorgon?”

“How do you know this nerd stuff?” Steve questions.

“I happen to like some of that nerd stuff.” She challenges with squinted eyes and he simply raises his hands in surrender.

“We’ll explain everything to you later, okay?” You say, giving her a gentle nudge to keep moving. “Let’s just get in the lab, find Hopper, and we’ll deal with it all then.”

“Yeah, the lab.” She repeats, looking up at the building. “Uh… how does one get into the lab?”

“Isn’t there a front door?” Steve asks.

“No, Harrington, it’s a building without-” You say immediately before biting your tongue. “Uh… yeah, I assume there is.”

Steve narrows his eyes with pointed curiosity. That was weird. “Uh-huh.”

Another twig snaps and Robin jumps yet again. You bite your lip, trying not to roll your eyes.

“Robs, stop, it’s literally just a-” You say, flailing your arm out in the direction of the sound before focusing, your stomach dropping.

Robin watches your face fall and gulps. “Um… by any chance is that terrified look on your face because you are secretly scared of butterflies and there’s a butterfly behind us?”

Steve frowns, slowly craning his neck and his eyes widen. His whole body felt stiff.

“Are you by any chance also afraid of our beautiful little insect friends?” Robin’s voice squeaks, lowered to a whisper.

“I think you know the answer.” You finally breathe, locking eyes with something even your imagination couldn’t possibly think of.

It was big in build, charred black like it had caught fire. It had round and bulbous eyes, just staring at you with dangerous heat. None of its bones looked as if they were in the right place, a twitching in its bald head as something like black tar trickled from its mouth.

Its veins protruded around its eyes, a black space filling the void beneath eyelids. It was looking at you. It looked like it was… grinning.

“Y/n.” Steve hisses, growing more and more uncomfortable the longer that thing stared at you. “Y/n, we’re gonna run.”

“Run where?” Robin asks with a small voice, “We don’t even know where the front door is.”

“It’s gotta be on the other side.” Steve states, trying not to move. “Last year, there was a giant gate out front that led there. And I’m pretty sure we’re behind the building right now, just trust me.”

“Trust you?” Robin says as if it was unimaginable. “I don’t even know-”

“Trust him, Robs.” You plea, not taking your eyes off of the creature, its smile growing wider by the second. “Do whatever he says, and don’t look back.”

“We’re all gonna run on the count of three, okay?” Steve whispers, eyes darting to the corner of his eye to locate the quickest path around the lab.

“Okay.” Robin agrees, looking towards you when you don’t answer. “Y/n?”

Every part of your body felt like it was alight with anxiety, a tremble in your arms as you stare back at this beast. Running was the only option. But as you look at it, something churns in your stomach.

It should have attacked you by now, immediately when it saw you. But it wasn’t moving, just grinning. It was obviously waiting for you to make the first move which, truthfully, was the scariest part of all.

It liked the chase. Which meant realistically, none of you would out-run it.

Or, as you realise, one of you.

“On the count of three.” You breathe out, biting the inside of your cheek. The plan in your head was merely unfinished. Maybe it was for the best, better not expect the ending when you know it won’t be a happy one.

Steve frowns, hearing the strain in your voice. Something was off. But he needed to get into that lab.

“One.” Steve starts, shifting his body as slowly as he could.

“Two.” Robin squeaks out, licking her lips.

You take a moment to reconsider, trying to sense if there was another option. But as it smiled at you with those dead, endless eyes, you were out of time.

“Three.” You finally gasp out and you push your arm out to get Robin going.

Steve watches you shift towards them and pulls Robin along gently, letting his legs take over his body. His heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, hearing Robin’s ragged breaths of panic behind him. But she was keeping up, thankfully.

He was gripping the bat until his knuckles turned white, praying that your shotgun wasn’t weighing you down, that you would all out-run it.

It wasn’t until he reached the corner of the building that he realised he only heard one set of footsteps behind him and a chill ran up his spine.

He spins around just as Robin catches up, bat held out ready. You weren’t behind them. And neither was the creature.

Steve turns his head to see your retreating figure, shotgun grasped tightly in your hands as you sprint to the other side of the building.

“Shit.” He curses. It wanted you, and you took that opportunity to set them free.

“What do we do?” Robin cries, seeing the thing hot on your tail.

“We meet them at the other side.” Steve nods quickly, grabbing her arm and tugging her along. He didn’t want to be brutal with his handling, but he had to make sure there were no delays.

He felt sick, running around this giant building with no idea if you would be there or not. And it stabbed at his chest even more knowing that he had no control. Your life wasn’t in his hands, not determined by how fast he was running. It was up to you.

When he locates the edge, he’s practically stumbling around the corner, his heart dropping when you’re not there waiting.

“Wha-” Robin’s panted breaths start just as something rounds the other side.

They both feel that relief wash over them when you run into the open, very much alive.

And then you’re on the floor before their eyes could even decipher what was happening.

The heavy weight of something tackling you down had knocked the air out of your lungs, sending the gun flying from your hands. It tries to pull you back, grabbing onto the backpack for leverage. You’re quick, retracting your arms from the straps and it falls away from you as you try to stand.

But just as quickly as you’re free, it grabs hold of your leg, pulling you back down and you barely catch yourself. It’s trying to drag you back and you’re reaching for the shotgun laying in front of you, your fingers clawing against the grass, the green now a startling black.

You could feel its hand wrapping around your right ankle, sharp nails digging in and you cry out. It had cut through the bandages you had forgotten about, making you relive that aching pain as it shot up your leg.

A loud shot rings out and the grip loosens, allowing you to pull your leg away and scramble back.

Steve cocks the shotgun again, watching as it continues to stand even as its back bled out. It was unnatural, turning to face him with a blood-curdling smile. This time, the shells pierce directly through its head, sending it backwards onto the blackened grass. He stares at it for a moment, the grinning face now a pile of mush in the dirt. It definitely wasn’t getting back up, but it didn’t make Steve any less afraid.

“Holy shit.” Robin gasps out, running towards you. “Y/n, your leg, are you-”

“I’m fine.” You say, quickly tugging your jean leg back down. Its nails hadn’t drawn blood, only leaving a dull ache against the wound you already had. “Barely a scratch.”

“What is wrong with you?”

You stand up and turn to see Steve holding your shotgun in his left hand, dangling at his side. His lips were tight, a look in his eye you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” You frown and his eyes widen.

“What is wrong with you?!” He repeats, louder this time. Robin blinks, holding out her hands.

“Okay, let’s-”

“You didn’t stick to the plan!” He continues, ignoring Robin’s attempts at peace.

“You said we run, so I ran!” You point out and he lets out an unintelligible groan.

“Guys-”

“No. No, you had to make it all about yourself and go in the opposite direction.” He huffs, dropping the shotgun in front of him, the contact with the weapon too much for him to handle right now.

“Wha-” You scoff, shaking your head. “I led that thing away from you, so, you’re welcome!”

“We would have been fine!”

“No, we wouldn’t have!” You yell back and Robin places her hands on her head, slowly turning in a circle as she looked around the path you found yourselves on. “Didn’t you see the way it was looking at me?! If I hadn’t taken the long way ‘round, it would have caught up and killed all of us!”

“How did you know that?” He points, chest rising heavily.

“I-” You bite your lip, brows furrowed. “I didn’t, I just had to take the chance.”

“Exactly.” He breaths, looking at you in concern. “You didn’t know. You never know.”

You shake your head.

“That day in detention.” Steve starts, taking a step forward. “You heard a scream and you ran to it, not knowing. I found you being dragged across the floor by a demodog!”

“Demo-dog?” Robin questions with a scrunched face, still circling.

Steve chooses to ignore her, eyes focused on you. “You were gonna head to the cabin with just a knife, not knowing. And- and you blew up a freaking car! Not knowing if that was gonna work. And now, just now, you thought ‘hey, this thing looks like it wants to kill me so I’m sure running away from the only person that could help me is the right decision’, huh?! Why?! Why do you do that?!”

“Why do you care?!” You’re almost screaming at him now, fists clenched at your sides so tight, your nails began to cut crescent shapes beneath their fury.

“Because I can’t go through this apocalypse with someone who clearly has a death wish!”

“Well, congratulations, you’ve made it to the lab, you don’t have to put up with me anymore!”

“Fine!”

You both give one last shout, before turning away from eachother, arms folded. There was a stinging in your eyes, a hot rage that was about to bring tears any second. You didn’t need that, especially knowing that Steve would probably do the right thing and apologise. You didn’t want his pity.

“Okay.” Robin sighs, turning back to you both with her hands placed on her hips. “How are we feeling? Feeling good, like we just got it all out of our systems, yeah?”

Neither of you answer, avoiding eyes.

“Great, now that we’re finally being quiet,” Robin steps forward, nodding to the building. “The front door glass has been smashed so getting in is gonna be easy, and I took the time to actually take in our surroundings and if you look to your left, you will find a Hawkins Police car that I assume our beloved chief drives.”

You both immediately turn to your left and see that there was, in fact, a Chevrolet parked by the gate, the police station logo stamped along the side. You had to admit, seeing it there lifted a weight off your chest.

“So let’s untwist our panties and get in there.” Robin waves her hand, arm extended to the door. “Andale!”

Without another word, you fasten the straps of your backpack and swipe the shotgun from the ground at Steve’s feet, never acknowledging him. You’re already leading the way by the time Steve recollects his bat, taking a moment to compose himself.

He wouldn’t have been so angry if he didn’t care so much.

The crunch of glass was deafening as you all stepped into the lab, your shotgun raised and ready. It felt too quiet.

“You think they’re in here?” Robin looks to you and you hold your breath, hoping some remnants of a voice would pull you to them.

“The car was out front, right?” You suggest, walking forward. You were taking the lead, much to Steve’s silent objection, peering in the small windows of each door you passed. Everything was empty.

“And we’re sure they’re uh…” She couldn’t finish and you chose not to answer, just leading them forward.

When you reach the end of the hallway, you realise you’re faced with two options. You either go left. Or you go right.

Closing your eyes, you take a breath and turn around, locating Steve’s hazel eyes in the dimmed light.

“Do you know where this gate is?” You ask and when he realises you’re talking to him, he clears his throat.

“I’ve never been in here before. Just a few of the others.”

“Right.” You sigh, biting your lip. “So… left?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Aw.” Robin comments, smiling sarcastically. “We’re like a happy family.”

“You got me detention.” You deadpan and her smile drops.

“You know how sensitive I get about that, I said I’m sorry.” She complained as you smirked, steering her left and heading down yet another corridor.

It was eerie, how quiet it was. Only the soft echo of your footsteps, the occasional breath of relief when something wasn’t lurking around the corner. It looked empty, abandoned. But Hopper’s car was right outside. They had to be here.

“Guys.” Robin calls out and you both turn to see her peering through another door. “I see some screens in there. Maybe cameras?”

Steve looked hopeful, nodding and trying the door. It wasn’t locked, but something was jammed behind it. He hands the bat over to Robin – she held it like it was a bomb about to go off – and tries to force open the door, ramming his shoulder into the wooden blockade.

One last push, and the door eventually slides open, still feeling heavy. He steps inside, doing a very quick scan of the area, before holding his arm out and allowing you and Robin to duck under before the door closed.

Robin was right. The room was small, holding a computer with multiple screens attached like a security system. It looked like a map of the lab, some cameras still working.

You each glance between them, trying to spot some friendly faces in this desolate building.

Steve thought he saw something moving, a mere blur. But then again, the camera feed was already looking busted, fuzzy images were bound to occur.

“Where are they?” You mutter, eyes flickering between the screens. You had never felt so anxious in your life. It was like your body was fighting against wanting to find them and praying they weren’t here. Because if they were… you’d have to face what you did. And you weren’t sure you were going to be forgiven.

“Wait, there.” Robin sounds, pointing to the top right corner. You all whip your heads up, eyes widening. Someone was in the lab with you.

“Do we… know them?” Steve squints. His eyesight had been poor lately but he had refused to get them checked. Glasses just felt like another burden.

“I can’t tell.” You sigh, staring at the shape.

They were walking down a hallway, holding what you assumed to be a shotgun. They didn’t seem particularly tall but then again you weren’t sure how tall the walls were meant to be.

“Turn around.” You whisper like they would hear you, begging to see a face you knew.

“It’s a girl.” Robin comments and you raise an eyebrow. “What? Look at the movement. That’s a girl.”

You look back at the screen and you had to agree with Robin. There was something more feminine about their posture. And you could just make out the ponytail concealed in the shadow of the camera feed.

“Wait.” You lean forward, getting a closer look. Just in time for your mysterious friend to turn around, and your eyes widen.

“You know who it is?” Steve asks, peering over your shoulder with a frown.

“Um.” You nod, leaning back and looking up at him. “They’re definitely here.”

Steve tries to get a look at the screen, but the figure is gone. “Who was it?”

You simply give a strange smile, almost one that looked painful, and he pulls a face.

“Don’t do that, it’s creepy.”

“It’s Nancy.” You finally say, noticing Robin’s confusion. “Nancy Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I know who Nancy is.” She says, still frowning. “But why is she here?”

“Oh.” You realise, noticing Steve’s expression. It was like all of his emotions were hitting him at once, unsure of how he should be feeling. “Long story short, these guys have known about the freaky stuff for like, two years? Don’t ask me though, I wasn’t cool enough to be apart of it.”

Your last comment flew right over Steve’s head as he straightens, collecting his bat from Robin’s hands and clearing his throat. It was fine. He was cool. Everything was… chill. It was just that he hadn’t seen Nancy since their break-up. And even seeing her on a tired tape of camera feed was enough to have him feeling hurt all over again, reliving that same nightmare where he knew Nancy had chosen Jonathan long before she ever admitted it. But other than that… he was fine. Totally.

“Did you have a stroke?” Your voice snaps him back into reality and he grimaces.

“No. Let’s go. Now we know they’re here.” He says, turning back around before abruptly stopping, staring down at the floor.

“Oh god.” Robin covers her mouth and you step forward, brows furrowed.

“Now we know why the door was so hard to open.” You comment, staring at a dead body.

The chest had been ripped into, covering the lab coat in blood. It looked like they had bled out, escaping whatever had attacked in the first place.

“Let’s find them and get out of here.” Steve finally breaks the deafening silence, gently grabbing Robin’s shoulder and leading her out o the room.

You stare for a moment longer. It didn’t look like an old wound, maybe a day or so. That wasn’t the part that was captivating you, however. It was the man’s face. The skin had been cut around the nose and mouth in the same way you had seen so many times before, the people turned monsters. He had already been one of those things when something killed him. Which meant…

“Y/n.” Steve pats your arm and you adjust the shotgun in your hands, nodding.

One problem at a time.

“So because Nancy is here, we are just assuming the rest of them are also?” Robin inquires. You were used to her voicing her questions, not necessarily because she wanted to know or wasn’t aware of the answer. She had just seen a dead body. This was her way of protecting herself.

Steve hums a response, nodding. “We always stick together.”

“They’re the real happy family.” You say, a little more venom on your tongue than you intended and he sends you a look.

“Can we just… call out to her?” Robin peers around a corner, sighing relief when something wasn’t staring back.

“She looked like she was getting ready to shoot something.” You recall, remembering her stance, the way the gun had moved in her hands. “We can’t risk being any louder than this.”

“Y/n’s right.” Steve agrees and you raise your eyebrows. “I know. Even I’m surprised you can make good decisions sometimes.”

“On second thought, we shout out and let it chase Steve.” You narrow your eyes at him and he feigns fear.

“Oh no.” He mocks, rolling his eyes.

“You two just solidify the fact that I am never having kids.” Robin comments as you pass through another set of double doors, carefully slipping through. “Are we even sure we’re going the right way? This place is huge.”

“I’m just following the door numbers, I think Nancy was by-”

Your thought process derailed and you come to a complete stop, staring down the hallway.

“Y/n?” Robin frowns, following your gaze. “Did you see something?”

It’s a long stretch of hallway, lights illuminating the path down to a single door at the end. Just like in your dream.

Except the walls weren’t smeared with blood, and there was no beast banging against the wood.

“Y/n.”

Steve’s hand rests against your shoulder and you take a breath, looking up at him. He searches your eyes for some kind of answer. You must look petrified.

“Sorry.” You shake your head. “Must’ve had some weird wave of deja vu.”

“You’re sure you’re good?” Robin asks and before you can reassure her, she’s pressing her hand against your forehead, pouting.

“What are you doing?” Steve looks on in amusement, his own hand now resting back at his side.

“I don’t really know.” She shrugs and Steve almost laughs at the confused look on your face. “I see people do it in movies.”

“I’m not sick, Robin.” You bat her hand away, eye catching on the reflecting light of her charm, tightening your throat. “I think we took a wrong turn, we needed the other double doors.”

“You sure?” Steve raises a brow, taking a few steps down the hallway. Your heart reacts before your brain.

“Stop!” You yell before covering your mouth, eyes wide.

Steve freezes, turning around to look at you. “What the hell?”

“Sorry.” Your voice is muffled against your hand.

Robin’s lips are thin, a nervous expression staining her features as she takes in the silence.

“Do you thinking something heard us?” She asks with a whisper and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Of course you had to shout after telling everyone to be quiet. Of course it had to be you to break the one and only rule, yet again. The nightmare was just a nightmare. Every lab probably looks like this one. You’re being dramatic and paranoid and you’re only putting your friends in danger.

And judging by the looks on their faces, they agreed.

“Let’s find the others before something finds us.” Steve’s voice is low and you can’t even argue. You can barely apologise. He walks back the way he came, striding straight past you and peering out behind the double doors.

“Come on.” He orders, stepping around and holding it open. He barely glances at you as you walk past and you can feel some wave of embarrassment rush to your cheeks.

But even so, you felt calmer already. Like avoiding that door had settled the uncertainty in your stomach.

“Are you feeling okay?” Robin asks, hushed voice close to your ear as Steve leads ahead, checking the corners.

“I’m fine.” You nod with a tight smile. “Really. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Guys, we need to be quiet.” Steve hisses with a glance over his shoulder and Robin raises an eyebrow.

“Somebody’s grumpy.” She comments, trying to make light of the situation. She really hated it when people fought.

“Only because somebody can’t follow a simple rule.” He mutters under his breath. But the walls in this lab were acoustic, and it bounced right off his tongue and into your ear.

The regret already seeps in as he hears your footsteps falter, turning around with a silent curse to see your glaring eyes.

“I said I was sorry.” You say with gritted teeth. Not like you were angry, no. A different kind of upset.

His shoulders drop with defeat, the bat hanging down from his hand. “We just… we need to be more careful.”

“I know that.” You say, biting your lip as you try and relax. Your eyes catch the doors beside him, looking like another security room just before the corner turns. Maybe it would be useful to track Nancy with again.

“We can’t-” Steve takes in a breath, studying you. There was something you weren’t telling him. And usually he would be fine; you can have secrets. But not when it was risking everything. “Is something… something going on? That you’re not telling us?”

“What? No. No, I’m fine.”

Robin looks at you with suspicion, tilting her head. “Something happened back there, Y/n. You looked terrified.”

You observe the way her features furrow, a concern woven into her eyes. It was the same look Steve bore, one that tore into your soul as you struggled with the truth of it. They would think you were crazy, tell you it was just some dream and you’re being dramatic. Just like you feared.

“It’s been hell.” You finally sigh, a quiet laugh slipping from your mouth. “I’m just on edge and… and I didn’t really sleep last night so I guess I’m getting kind of delirious. But I’m fine.”

At least for now, you weren’t lying. Just omitting the truth. That had to count, right?

“So no more shouting randomly and making your best friend crap her pants?” Robin questions and you smile, nodding.

“You’re lying.” Steve frowns and your breath hitches.

The apocalypse may not have been long physically, but it felt like he has gotten to know you better than this. The way you constantly repeated ‘fine’ like it was a chant you were trying to convince yourself, the vague descriptions that held no meaning, even the way you bit your lip when you felt uncomfortable. He knows you now better than he had before. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Steve, we need to keep moving.” You warn, like you were giving him a second chance to reconsider his next actions. You were right. He never wanted to stay in the same place for very long, especially not in this nightmare asylum. But he had to know.

“What are you hiding?” He asks and your expression falters. He takes a step forward, noticing his casted shadow disappearing from the next hallway as he steps away from it. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re fine. You know something and we need to-”

Whatever convincing remark was going to leave his lips had been taken away with his breath as he feels something hard strike his back, knocking him down.

You push Robin behind you as you raise your shotgun, immediately moving towards Steve and aiming at the figure stood behind him, a cricket bat in their hands.

They looked human, nose and mouth covered by a mask while the eyes are hidden beneath wild hair. You couldn’t risk it. They attacked Steve. You weren’t even sure if they were human anymore.

You’re about to pull the trigger when you hear Robin’s squeak behind you, pausing.

“Put the shotgun down or I shoot.”

It wasn’t Robin’s voice. And you didn’t have to turn around to understand that threat. With a frown, you slowly place the shotgun at your feet, close to where Steve was trying to push himself to his feet. He catches your eye as you stand back up, and you prayed he understood.

“Now who the hell-”

Steve grabs the gun and spins around, pointing it directly at the masked attacker and you almost smile. You hadn’t expected that to work.

“You put down your gun, and we’ll-” You turn to face whoever had Robin in their grips and feel the breath leave your body. “Nancy?”

Steve almost dropped the shotgun, raising an eyebrow as he risked a glance. Yep. Yep, it was Nancy.

Her hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, some marks across her face that he could assume were dirt. She had a pistol in her hand, pointed at Robin’s head. Her mascara coated eyes widen in disbelief as she flickers between you and Steve, stuttering her words.

“How- what… what the hell are you guys doing here?” She gawks and you stare at her gun.

“I’m not answering that until you stop pointing a gun at my best friend’s head.” You comment and she steps away, letting Robin walk over to you after sending a glare over her shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, too.” She mumbles, nodding when you brush her shoulder.

“Nancy.” Steve says like was testing if she was really there or not. She gives an awkward smile and Steve blinks. “Uh…”

Steve turns back to the eyes currently glaring at him from the barrel of the shotgun and he frowns in confusion.

“Who the hell is this?”

The mask is pulled down with a tug and Steve lowers the shotgun, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, you.”

“Hi.” Jonathan nods and you raise your eyebrows at the tension between them, sharing a look with Robin.

“Where’s Hopper?” You get straight to the point, studying them both as they look surprised yet again. “I assume you came here with him.”

“Yeah.” Nancy answers, Jonathan nodding with her. “Yeah, he picked us up like an hour after everything happened. We’ve kind of been at the lab since.”

“Hm.” You sound, trying to ignore how that stung. He went and collected the kids he wanted and left you to fend for yourself. Lovely.

“So he’s here?” Steve questions and she nods again.

“He’s with the gate.” She relays.

“They’ve been trying to get it shut for ages.” Jonathan says, but his eyes are still on you, barely hanging onto his own words. “Where were you guys?”

Steve frowns, and looks at you. “Uh… surviving the apocalypse. Which, by the way, not as easy as it looks in movies.”

“Amen.” Robin breathes out.

“Why are you both looking at us like that?” You finally ask, the shocked eyes of people you barely knew staring at you and Steve like you weren’t even real.

“Sorry.” Nancy rushes, blinking. She pockets her gun into her belt and steps forward, sharing looks with Jonathan. “It’s not you. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Steve tenses, closer to you now.

“We…” Jonathan tries and you force yourself not to let out a groan. Luckily, Robin does it for you.

“Come on, spill it.” She begs, smiling when they frown at her. “Hi. I’m Robin, by the way.”

“Did you guys not expect us to make it this far?” You ask and Steve furrows his brows, questioning it himself. “Look, if Hopper doesn’t want to see me, that’s fine, just say so-”

“No. No, it’s not-” Nancy takes a deep breath, looking very uncomfortable.

“Then what?” You stress, getting fed up of the mystery.

Another step closer and she suppresses whatever emotion threatened to jump out, looking too sympathetic for your liking.

“We thought you were dead.”

Stunned silence cut across the room like the swift swipe of a blade, cutting deep. Of all you had expected when coming here, the news of your demise was not one of them.

“What do you mean, dead?” Steve asks and Nancy looks at him with a twisted expression of concern and relief. “You thought- why did you think that?”

As if it pained her to say, she looks away and wraps her arms around herself. Jonathan rests a hand on her shoulder and speaks instead.

“When everything started… it was all so fast.” He explains, head low. “We were lucky. Nancy and I had managed to get to mine without a run-in. Met our brothers there and Hopper found us within the hour. Got us all away from there before anything worse could happen.”

“We drove through the town.” Nancy clears her throat, meeting Steve’s eye. “Went looking for any survivors. There was already so much smoke and demodogs running around. We finally found someone, warning us not to go any further. They told us… they told us it started at the school. And that everyone there was dead.”

You and Steve look at eachother automatically.

“We knew…” Nancy gulps, shaking her head. “We knew you were both there. I saw Steve heading to detention and Hopper had gotten a call you were in there, too.”

You lower your head. It was stupid to feel ashamed when there were worse things to worry about now.

“Hopper didn’t want to believe them. He went there anyway and… and we saw it. Bodies. The demodogs… it was like a massacre. And then we saw your car-”

Her voice broke for a second and Steve shakes his head in silent disdain.

“He managed to get into the building.” Jonathan continues, eyes on you this time. “He tried looking for you. He found your backpack. He barely spoke when he got back to the car. Just… drove.”

“He’s barely spoken to us since we got here.” Nancy shrugs. “When he finally had enough of the kids asking, he told us you were both dead. That there wasn’t a single survivor and… and now you’re here, and we have no idea how to even process that so…”

“Well,” Robin breaks the air, sucking it in before awkwardly clapping her hands. “That’s intense. But, you know, they’re alive. Ta-da. And we made it here. And I don’t really know how to act right now because I’m uncomfortable. I usually talk until someone stops me-”

“Robs.” You breathe softly and she nods, pointing.

“Like that.” She whispers out and you straighten the hoodie currently clung to your skin, trying to get some air.

This whole time you thought Hopper hadn’t cared, hadn’t tried looking. But he had thought you were dead. You and Steve were both KIA until you showed up against all odds. And you should be proud of that. But all you could think was that Hopper was trying to save Hawkins right now, thinking that he lost another child, all because you were too stubborn to admit you were wrong. If you had never stormed out of the house, decided to take detention to avoid an apology…

“Who else is here?” Steve asks as he notices that fallen look upon your face, staring at your sneakers like they were the saddest things.

“The kids, Joyce.” Nancy nods with a tight smile. “Like two people from school but not that many compared to… to how many people are out there.”

By that, she meant the sea of dead bodies that flooded Hawkins’ streets. Steve tried not to let it get to his head.

“So why are you guys out here?” Robin pouts, ogling the gun strapped to Nancy’s waist.

“On look-out.” Jonathan sighs, running a hand down his face as he peers down the hallway. “We keep thinking we can hear something out here. Haven’t found anything yet but… that doesn’t prove anything.”

“Well, the building was being guarded by a creepy asshole when we got here.” Steve nods slowly and you try not to show any emotion. “Took care of that but who knows how many there are.”

“We’re way past Demogorgons now.” Nancy says, face fallen to a serious look.

“Right.” Robin raises her brows. “Now, can someone tell me about this Demogorgon thing because the last time I checked, they were just monsters in a board game.”

You had zoned out by the time Robin asked that question, leaving it to the other three to talk about their experiences. Not that you could really put in your own thoughts considering as you were sort of in the same boat as her; you hadn’t known about any of this nightmare until a few days ago. Part of you still hoped it was only a nightmare. That way you could be sure it would be over eventually.

You should feel safer. Hopper was merely a few doors away, El, the kids. But that churning feeling in your gut that lit a wave of nerves was fire on your skin. Nothing felt like it was getting better. No. No, it felt like this was just the beginning.

Lights flicker out the corner of your eye, only catching your attention. The others were still deep in their exchange of scary stories, not noticing the flickering bulb locked behind a door just further down.

And then you watch as it dims completely, almost in a snap. You shouldn’t think anything of it. The world was literally ending, electricity was easily one of the first resources to go. Except… don’t these places usually run on a generator?

The light in the next room starts flickering. And when that bursts, it moves to the next, and you feel your hairs stand on end. You can see the bulb lose its spark, your breath foggy against the glass.

Since when were you this close to the door?

“So, yeah, if you see a big scary spider in the sky, just assume you need to run.” Steve shrugs at Robin’s appalled face.

“Like I was gonna stay and say hi?!” She exasperates and shakes her head. “Okay, officially information overload.”

“It’s a lot.” Nancy sympathises, “But at least we’re all together through this.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighs. “You have no idea how happy we are to see you guys. Right?”

Steve glances to his left to see that you weren’t there. He looks to his right. Nothing.

“Y/n?” He spins around, frowns on everyone’s faces. They hadn’t even realised you had walked away. “Y/n?”

“How is she so sneaky?” Robin mutters, peering around the corner. “Y/n?”

They all started calling out, confusion setting in. You were just with them. How could you have possibly disappeared when you were right next to them only a moment ago?

“Does she do this often?” Jonathan suggests, but Steve silently shakes his head, the panic in his chest setting in.

“Only when something is really wrong.”

Nancy turns her head to him, brows furrowed. “Like what-”

A scream rips out into the silence, echoing down the hallway like some kind of omen. Steve swears his heart stops, his own scream already building in his throat, choking on it.

“Oh my god.” Nancy breathes, grabbing her gun and moving towards the noise. But an arm stops her.

“No, wait.” Steve says and when she goes to protest, he raises his finger to his lips.

Reluctantly, she stays quiet, ears straining to catch even a pin drop of what he was trying to assess.

The scream echoes out again, and this time he knew.

“It’s not her.” He whispers and Nancy’s eyes widen.

“How do you know that?”

Steve looks down at her in seriousness, gripping tightly onto the bat in his hand. “I just do.”

“So, there’s someone else screaming bloody murder at the same time Y/n goes missing?” Robin questions, panic in her voice as she stares at Steve, silently pleading.

“When Y/n and I were trying to get to the cabin, we saw one of those monster people things.” Steve starts and Jonathan raises a brow.

“Monster people?”

“Half demogorgon, half human.” He replies, gulping. “It was making these sounds of pain, made them seem more human. But it’s a trap. Whatever it is, it’s trying to lure us. Make us think that there’s someone out there that needs help.”

“And you’re sure. Like, 100% sure?” Nancy voices her concern, looking back down the hallway as another scream travels to her ear. “Steve-”

“Trust me.” He pleads, moving away from her eyes that clouded his senses, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Someone needs to take Robin away from here, to where the others are. You don’t have a weapon, I can’t risk-”

“Hey, I’m not objecting.” She laughs awkwardly, clearly nervous. “Just… please find her.”

Steve gives a nod while Nancy and Jonathan whisper to eachother, coming to an agreement that made Jonathan’s face twist with hesitancy. But he knew he couldn’t stop Nancy.

“Jonathan’s going to lead her back to everyone else, I’ll go with you.” Nancy nods, watching the protest build on Steve’s tongue. “You need back up. I’m going.”

“Fine.” He finally huffs. “You guys head off, we’re gonna-”

“Steve!”

He feels his body flash cold, the hair on his arms prickling from the trail of goosebumps along his skin. That was your voice. That was definitely your voice.

“You guys need to go now.” He orders at Robin and Jonathan. The other boy doesn’t argue, cricket bat held tight as he nods to Robin and leads her in the opposite direction of the cries.

But they don’t make it out of the double doors.

It’s already swinging open before Jonathan can reach for the handle.

Robin covers her mouth with both hands, suppressing a cry. Steve feels frozen.

Dead eyes crinkle from the stretch of a blood-curdling grin.

Charred hands holding a familiar shotgun, bent at the barrel.

Its smile… blood-red.

Chapter Ten: Part Two: An Ode To The Complicated ->

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear. @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @80saestheticismyfav

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things reader insert #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #apocalypse au #st2 #stranger things au #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #robin buckley

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artzzyb00-27 · 3 months

Text

Buck's Baby Deer

Buck has a daughter AU. You all love it. I know you do. Anyway her name is Calliope Buckley. And she's four years old. This takes place Post-Lawsuit(our favorite). Pretend the loft has two bedrooms, please. Jealous Eddie, of a male friend of Buck's who is flirty with everyone. So all in all, good fun. Might make a part two to this, but not immediately taking place after.

If you had told Buck that he would've ended up straining his relationship with the 118 more. He never would have officiated the lawsuit. Considered it, yes. He had a kid to think about.

Calliope Buckley. Buck's pride and joy. Truly, she was a sweet kid. She was smart, which she got from her mom, and had sass to her which came from Buck.

The swearing came from her staying up late without Buck knowing and watching what he was watching secretly. Rick and Morty is the favorite. Of course, she got grounded, but hey at least she never whines when she gets punished. Due to it happening often, and never being extreme punishments.

Also, she only does small things, like drawing on the wall. So then she can't have her crayons and markers for a week. Till she started with black pens, which artistically impressed Buck, and gave her stuff back.

Her mom? Well to put it simply, she didn't want kids. Well not yet. She didn't feel ready, but she told Buck because she knew how much he wanted his own family. She said she'd go through the pregnancy for him, but after that, they were done. Buck was heartbroken, but it was healed with a tiny baby with a birthmark running across their nose.

Reckless Buck had been mainly a ploy, yeah Abby had been a thing, and Ali had loved Calliope, but Calliope never liked the women that came. So after Taylor, he stopped dating.

Which, yeah probably got rid of free babysitter but he had Carla. Who swore to not tell anyone about Callie. That's how he ended up at the store that day. He needed to go buy kid snacks and nutritional values. And he picked up some cat stuff for his neighbor Caleb.

He had forgotten the 118 showed up there to get their supplies. It slipped his mind, especially with a hungry four-year-old wandering around inside because she saw Nemo flavored Oreos posters outside and couldn't help but run in to look for them.

"Because you're exhausting! We all have our own problems but you don't see us whining about it. Somehow we just manage to suck it up." Eddie yelled at him, that he was exhausting. It made him freeze. For one, the guy he liked, maybe even loved, hated him. Two, his daughter was around and he didn't want her to hear this. Especially cause it was true. At least to Buck, it was. Caleb had been great at making sure he knew how much he mattered.

But sometimes no matter how hard you helped, the brain would hotwire itself to not listen. His ears were ringing. Breathing was shaky and suddenly something exploded behind them. They ran out. Callie.

He grabbed her, grabbed the cookies, paid, and got the hell out of there. When Mackey told him they won and that the fire department wanted to give him 5.6 million dollars. He refused. He already had money from Callie's mom. Who was stupid rich, and gave him extra money than he needed for child support. How did Bobby and Maddie not know about this? Well it was in the files that weren't allowed to be shown to everyone, and Maddie hadn't probed questions at him while she was with Doug.

Callie's grandparents(maternal) were godsends. When he was too busy to make a flight for Callie, they would come and visit from Michigan. Good ole Harold and Ellie. Old but sturdy. Kind yet honest. Heart driven, yet logical.

When he denied the settlement, Chiefs Williams and Alfonso had called him in. Asking why he didn't take it. When he explained the lawsuit from his perspective, they told him they'd make Bobby let him back in. He agreed, only on the terms that no one got fired. He knew what Bobby did wasn't professional, but he didn't want the man to lose his job.

He had already given up on the idea of having his family back immediately. But that didn't matter. He needed money. He couldn't rely on others for it too much.

And he damn well wasn't going to get it from a settlement. He felt sick at the thought. So when he returned to work. He sucked up the way he was being treated.

Wasn't easy at first, but he'd been treated like this for most of his life. So he got used to it quickly. Callie was keeping him going, making sure to get up in the morning and to make food. For the both of them, because despite being young, Callie was an observant kid. Hen too, but she'd tried to keep the peace on both sides.

Guess the secret couldn't be kept any longer, as he was on a twelve-hour shift when Caleb called.

"Caleb?" He had been cleaning the kitchen counter. The 118 was dispersed everywhere throughout the station, but Eddie, Hen, Chim, and Bobby were in the dining area nearby.

Looking over, Eddie frowned his eyebrows. Who the hell was Caleb?

"Slow down-,... Shit. I'm on my way." Buck hung up the call and sped walked to Bobby. "I'm so sorry Cap, but I need to leave. Family emergency."

"What? Maddie didn't call." Chim said confused. Buck just rolled his eyes and continued talking. Taking the others aback.

"No, not Maddie, but someone who is family to me needs help and I can't wait around. Besides I only have thirty minutes left."

Contemplating for a brief minute, Bobby gave him the go-ahead. Giving his boss thanks, he ran downstairs, grabbed his duffle, and ran out. Didn't even bother changing out.

"Who'd you think needed help? I didn't even know he had other friends outside of us." Hen's questioning made Eddie and Bobby think. Had Buck ever mentioned anyone he knew outside of work?

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Heading to the hospital had been teasingly slow. Buck didn't know what exactly happened, but his daughter was there and needed a cast.

When he got there, he saw Caleb's car in the front. Luckily there was a spot next to it so he just parked there. Running in, he saw Caleb pacing around the waiting room. This guy is the guardian angel of his daughter.

"Caleb! What the hell happened?" Buck asked running up to his new best friend. Eddie had been demoted recently, which hurt Buck more than when he admitted to himself that he was in love with the man. Wasn't that hard of a realization as Caleb was studying to be a therapist and became a free one for Buck. He was gonna be great for younger kids.

"I'm so sorry, we were at the park and she was climbing the monkey bars like usual but some kids ran underneath her. I think she freaked and let go. She broke her list when she landed. I'm so sorry, Buck." Pulling the smaller man into a hug, Buck thanked him.

"You, confident Caleb, is worried? Relax, you did the right thing. Nothing worse happened so she's going to be okay. She's a tough nut to crack remember?"

"Yeah, she didn't fuss except when we were driving on our way to the hospital. Pulled out my phone to call you but she told me not to because it, 'Wasn't a big deal.'" Yup, his daughter all right. At that moment, the doctor came out.

"Family of Calliope Buckley." Both of the men walked up to her. "She's a brave and happy girl. She insisted on a cast with monster trucks on it." Chuckling softly, Buck just imagined his baby girl talking to the doctor casually as they were adjusting her broken wrist to fit into the cast.

"Yeah, that- that's Callie. My little warrior." Smiling at Buck the doctor extended out a hand. "I'm Callie's father by the way. Caleb is her godfather." The doctor smiled and read over her clipboard telling them what kind of pain meds she would need. Caleb, however, wasn't exactly listening. Godfather. Holy shit.

After the doctor told them she could have one of them go in, he gave Buck the go-ahead. They'd talk later, right now his friend needed to see his goddaughter. Damn, that feels good to say.

After a few minutes of waiting, the Buckleys walked out and Buck handed Callie off to Caleb to go check out. Walking out with the kid towards their cars he swung her around a bit, placed her on top of his hood, and just let her play games on his phone. She was good at Clash of Clans for a six-year-old.

When Buck walked out of the hospital, Caleb saw him look around to check for cars and when he turned right he froze. Then speed walked toward his daughter and best friend. Still half watching Callie, Caleb put her in the back seat of Bucks jeep.

"What happened?" He asked with Callies door still open. Her seat was always right behind Bucks. She liked being a tailgunner for some reason.

"The 118s here." Not wanting to look suspicious, Caleb pulled Buck into a hug with his eyes closed. Then when he opened his eyes as he was about to let go, he locked eyes with one of them. A relatively smaller guy who had brown hair and tanned skin. He looked confused. Mad? Who knows, but it wasn't happy.

"We'll talk about it later. Right now, this little fighter needs an ice cream." Callie shot out of her seat and yelled out.

"Fuck yeah!" Throwing their heads back, slightly looking around for parents who thought they were better, Caleb and Buck laughed at the six-year-old. Shaking his head, Caleb shriveled her hair and practiced his handshake with Buck. Then went into his pickup and drove off. Buck settled Callie down and told her to sit down. She did so immediately, already deciding what three flavors she could mix up conveniently.

Closing her door, Buck opened his door and drove off to the small ice cream business near his apartment to get their usuals for him and his small family. Meanwhile, the 118, specifically Eddie, watched him drive away.

-------------------------------------------

Watching Buck drive away with a kid was strange. Watching Buck with another man and kid, was even more strange. Was that Caleb? And who the hell was that kid Buck had in the back seat? After that, he decided to confront Buck about it next shift but then realized that Buck wouldn't be at work for another three days.

When he came to work the next morning, he noticed the small tension because no one could ask about what the hell they saw yesterday at the hospital parking lot. So they waited. And when the time came, Bobby said they were gonna have Bosko take over for Buck.

"He's on paid family leave." He explained but wouldn't go into detail.

"Why?" Eddie asked. Maddie wasn't hurt, or Chimney would be gone as well.

"Can't say. He told me not to. Leave it at that." For some reason, Bobby looked apprehensive. Which made Eddie more frustrated. He'd already dropped the street fighting. He didn't want to see Lena right now. So that's how he somehow found himself sitting in his car. In front of Buck's apartment building.

He hadn't decided if he wanted to go in, yet he was sitting out here like a stalker. In the end, he walked into the elevator and walked towards Buck's apartment. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

After what felt like the longest minutes, Eddie heard the door unlocking. His heart beating in his chest, preparing to face whatever was behind that door. Then it opened. It wasn't Buck opening the door no. But a guy slightly taller than Eddie, with darker skin, side shaves, and braids that went over the top of his head. He had muscle and yet looked so meek. Slight stubble and a scar on his right eyebrow.

"Can I help you hermoso?" His accent seemed Dominican. Shook, Eddie froze, till he heard a familiar voice.

"Eddie?" Behind the beautiful man blocking Eddie, was Buck. In a hoodie with basketball shorts and sneakers. The hoodie was not baggy, as it clung to Bucks biceps making it look like it was about to rip. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I thought you were alone."

"Daddy? Who's that?" A little girl behind both of the men walked out of the hall from the spare room. Okay, what the fuck? Eddie thought as he stumbled slightly and opted to leave. Buck followed him down the hall closing the door, leaving Caleb to distract Callie.

"Eddie! Eddie! You can't just show up, a-and not explain why you're here randomly at 3 p.m.." Buck said after pulling Eddie to a stop with a firm hand on the shoulder. Eddie spun around breathing rapidly.

"Me? Me not explain!? You have a kid that none of us know about!"

"Why does it matter?! You've done a really good job at pretending I'm not there at work." Not wanting a repeat of the grocery store, Buck left to go inside and left Eddie frozen in the apartment complex hallway. Unconsciously doing the same thing the older man had done to him.

Finding his way, Eddie headed home to his son. Who was playing online with his friends, so it gave Eddie an excuse to lie down on his bed. Staring up at his ceiling, Eddie contemplates back. To when he first met Buck. Then to the fire truck bombing and the backyard incident at Athena and Bobby's place. It had scared him so much that he had initially agreed with the idea of Buck staying away from the 118. Hell, the whole fire department.

But when he filed that stupid lawsuit, it hurt worse to have Buck out of reach. Then he came back. And Eddie did not want to talk to him. Despite his heart longing to and making it break every time he snarked at anything Buck said or did in his general vicinity. He was angry at Buck but hated himself for being angry at Buck. The street fighting had started as a good outlet to let out the anger. But it went too far, and he blamed Buck for not being there when he needed someone to bail him out.

Now it turns out he has a family. A daughter, he had said he'd be better at raising girls than boys, and a man who looked like the perfect,... husband? Buck never talked about sexuality. Sexual innuendos yeah, but anything else no. But that didn't make sense because he had dated a woman while working at the 118. Unless it was recent. Then that Caleb guy was most likely his boyfriend.

That absolutely didn't sting.

Eddie was his best friend and yet he didn't know Buck's sexuality. Except,.. they hadn't acted like best friends had they? They(Eddie) haven't talked about the lawsuit properly and how it affected everyone(them).

Thinking back to the little girl at the apartment, Eddie couldn't help the small fond look that formed on his face. She was definitely Buck's. Seeing as the blonde curly hair and birthmark over the nose didn't give it away, she had the specific head tilt and eyebrow raise Buck had when he asked questions before going down a rabbit hole of information.

The fond expression quickly vanished as he remembered her arm. She had a cast on. That explained Buck's Paid Family Leave. Eddie could agree with Buck on this one, kids come first.

-------------------------------------------

After the Eddie pop-up two weeks ago, came Hen and Karen. Caleb was babysitting his goddaughter when knocking from Buck's apartment three doors down was heard. Repeated knocking. Sighing, Caleb threw the hand towel he was using to wipe down the island of his kitchen over his shoulder and told Callie to stay in her playroom.

Peeking out into the hallway, Caleb saw two black women waiting in front of Buck's door. His Bob Marley Vinyl could be heard from outside, so it drew their attention.

"He's not home. He'll be back in thirty minutes." They nodded and looked back at the door. Then he walked up to him.

"Hey there, I'm Hen. This is my wife Karen." Hen greeted shaking Caleb's hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"Always glad to meet beautiful faces, I'm Caleb by the way. I'm Bucks best friend." Hen and Karen gained shocked looks at different things. They gave each other a look that Caleb couldn't describe and thanked him while walking down to the lobby of that floor.

Caleb could've sworn he heard, 'Eddie's not gonna like this.', but who cares. Callie wanted Neapolitan, and she was gonna have it goddammit. After thirty-five minutes, Caleb counted, Buck opened the door and joined them for ice cream.

After they finished, they stood up and got ready to relax in their apartments separately. When Callie went in she bolted towards her room to catch up on homework she had procrastinated on accident. She had a bad memory and would forget about when to do things.

"Oh yeah, these women came by earlier. They said they were Hen and Karen?" Buck's eye widened. Then his eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought.

"They're friends through work. Why'd they come here?"

"Not sure, but they weren't happy about me saying I was your best friend. They said Eddie wouldn't be happy." Weird, they said goodbye and continued their normal weekend routine like normal. With Buck being off work for a bit and Caleb off at his work as a mechanic for big trucks, Buck decided to take Callie to the mall. She loved Hot Topic, especially with all the new pins and Bluey merch Buck told her they got.

He wanted the anime and Coraline merch they had. When they got there, they quickly went to Barnes & Noble for a gift card for Caleb's birthday and to look for Vinyls that they wanted. They ended up getting one from Bob Marley and a CD from multiple oldies artists. Callie had gotten a CD player for her birthday a few weeks back so it was perfect timing.

Though she did like her dad's music, she wanted her favorites that she had heard from Buck's Spotify and put on a special playlist for her. Heading to Hot Topic, they browsed the store together. They found some cool earrings that were based on space that Callie liked. So Buck got the punk leather bracelet pack to get another piece of jewelry for half off.

Once leaving the store, they went to the food court and ordered a pizza for the two of them. Pepperoni on one half and sausage and olives on the other. Buck got his pizza whilst Callie ate her olives individually before eating the slices. A habit that she developed from when she was a baby. Olives were always eaten separately.

After they were finished, they put the tray on the stand above the trash can and then left to go back home. Getting boba on the way though. Callie claimed that her stomach needed some liquid to calm the food in her stomach.

They got out of the car, ordered, and sat at the tables outside to enjoy the warm sun cascading down. This made everything worth it to Buck, all it was missing was,... well.

"Buck?" Hearing that voice in particular made his heart beat fast. Whether from fear or feelings. Either way, he didn't want to deal with this. "And little girl."

"Who you calling little?"

"H-Hey now, Callie, remember what I told you?" Sighing, the sassy child responded.

"'Not to speak disrespectfully to anyone you don't know.' She had used a deeper voice to repeat her father's words. "I know, I'll try to be better."

"I know." Buck's gentle reply did something to Eddie that he wasn't ready to admit yet. Turning back to Eddie, Buck asked him why he was there.

"I came to pick up and order Chim did online for us. Didn't know you'd be here, I swear." Buck just said it was fine and to ignore it. But Eddie couldn't. He went inside, grabbed the five drinks, and walked back to his truck. He placed the drinks in the passenger seat momentarily before walking back to the father-daughter duo. "Look, I know you probably don't want to talk to me after what happened at your apartment, but I need to get something off my chest."

"Is it about that overused grey shirt that's probably been through more flannels than you have relationships?"

"Callie."

"I said I'd try to be better."

Dang, Callie had some attitude. It was oddly loveable. Hearing Buck sigh and seeing him get up gave Eddie the go-ahead to speak.

"You were right. I wasn't there for you after the truck ladder. I didn't try to understand the lawsuit or your side of the story. Hell, I did the opposite and indulged in street fighting." A look from Buck made him feel smaller than he already was. "I stopped, don't worry. Anyway,... I messed up. We all did. But especially me. I promised I'd have your back and I didn't. And I swear that right here right now, if you're willing to let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. Calling you exhausting was the worst thing I could have done. Especially because it's not true, you've helped me out a lot with Christopher. And you were taking care of your daughter to add to everything else! I'm not asking for forgiveness but I am offering it to you. And even if you don't want to, I want you and Christopher to be able to hang out again. I want Christopher and your daughter to properly meet and for your boyfriend-"

"Boyfriend? Caleb's my best friend, not boyfriend." Oh. That hurt a little less than Eddie thought it would.

"Oh, well, good to know. And for you. Buck, you deserve someone who will be there for you. Platonic or not. Assuming that Maddie doesn't know yet, I won't say anything to the others about her." With that, Eddie began to walk off. Till a hand got placed on his shoulder.

"I don't forgive you yet. But I'd like to try." Letting out a sigh of relief, Eddie nodded and drove off. Quickly wiping his tears before getting out of his truck and walking inside Bobby and Athena's house. It was a start.

If he wanted his friend back, he'd have to work for it. He'd die for Buck. He'd make that clear.

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The day after the boba apology, Buck had considered introducing Callie to the 118. Only his close friends. With Caleb there for support. And to officially introduce him as the godfather to Callie. He didn't want to make anything official yet though. He wanted to get her opinion first.

"Okay." Easier than he thought.

"You sure kiddo? You've only heard stories about them." Calliope was mature for her age, but she was still a kid. He didn't want to force her into something that would make her uncomfortable.

"I mean, I'm not happy it took this long. Especially if I can have friends after school." Buck hadn't let her have friends come over from her school. The only reason was he didn't want his parents being bitchy or weird towards him and Carla about why he didn't stay home. Or why the mom wasn't around. "But Pops told me that sometimes people take time to adjust to changes. Like how I had to get used to wearing normal shoes and not light-ups all the time."

Buck didn't think he deserved her, but Caleb and Carla had reinforced multiple times that they weren't one without the other.

"Alright. I'll tell them to come over tomorrow. Is that fine?" With a small head nod, he shot a text to the group chat and one separate to Eddie. Saying to bring Chris to keep Callie comfortable. He then went over to Caleb's with Callie and spent the afternoon there.

After sending the text messages, ten minutes later Buck's phone started going off. With responses to the invitation to his apartment. They all had accepted.

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118🚒

Hen:

Sure, got nothing going on

Tried swinging by earlier and you weren't there

Chim:

Down to go, wanna bring Maddie

Is that okay?

Buck:

Yeah that's fine

Bobby:

I'll be there, Athena will be too

Hen:

Karen will be working so I'm flying solo tmr

Eddie:

I'll be there

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Eddie

Hey thanks for the invite, Chris will be there too

Good to know, I was thinking of making pasta or ordering

Just order pizzas, we'll be fine

Alright, see you tmr

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A few minutes after the pizzas arrived, so did their visitors. Callie claimed that she had to make a good impression on Athena. So Buck styled her hair in Dutch braids and put on her best green shoes paired with her black overalls and striped yellow shirt.

She set out a LEGO box of Hogwarts on the coffee table for her and Chris to build together while the adults talked. When knocking was heard at the door, Callie and Buck got ready to receive them. All of them arrived near the same time so they decided to walk in together.

Taking a deep breath, Buck opened the door and smiled at them. However, their attention was quickly drawn to a young girl's voice yelling.

"Surprise bitches!" Callie was doing a dramatic pose whilst wearing sunglasses that Buck had bought a while back. They looked comically huge but somehow they went with the outfit. As they walked in, they all had shocked faces. Except Bobby, Athena, and Eddie. Caleb was still in his place fixing something with his sink.

"Guys, meet Calliope Buckley. My daughter of six years old." Maddie looked distraught yet enamored. Hen looked like she wanted to kill Buck but hugged the hell out of Callie. Chris was shaking with excitement. Chim was looking between father and daughter. Probably making comparisons in his head. Athena was smiling with a fond look in her eyes.

Bobby had probably told Athena about her already, which was fine, but the look Bobby had was heartwarming. Eddie had a small smile on his face and glanced at Buck.

"What?" Maddie asked looking to Buck for answers. But before he could answer, Callie began chatting with Chris.

"Hi, I'm Callie."

"I'm Chris."

"Wanna build a LEGO Hogwarts?"

"YEAH!"

As the kids walked away and sat at the coffee table, Buck led the adults away as best he could from the kids.

"Questions and theories, I know. But right now, have some pizza." So they did, and while they were serving, Caleb walked in.

"Hey lovely's. How's it going?"

"About to explain." They all looked at him to continue and not leave them on edge. Breathing in a sigh, he started talking. "A few years back, I met a girl. She was sweet and cool and I thought we had something special. Then, she got pregnant and she explained to me that she didn't want kids. I respected it and decided to break it off. She had Callie because she knew how much I wanted kids. I was a teen dad by technicality. Callie's grandparents took care of her while I lived with my mom and dad. After I got my job here, I was able to have her move in with me." Waiting for it to register in their heads, he silently let them ask questions. Then Chim raised his head.

"So, who's mom?"

"Penelope Smith. She has a master's in medicine and is a practitioner for athletes specifically. She sends me money when she can. Doesn't mean I don't have to work though."

"Grandparents are sweet. They come to visit from Michigan when they can." At Maddie's eyebrow raised Buck explained further.

"After having Callie, they moved to Michigan for Pen's college and to raise Callie in a more communal area. Meanwhile, I went off to travel. Mainly to get my parents off my ass. I didn't want to at first but Harold and Ellie told me to go for it."

"Nah, Harold practically dragged you into that Jeep." Laughing at the memory the 118 smiled at the pair. Eddie too, his was just dimmed slightly.

Running into the kitchen, Callie looked up at Buck.

"Can we get our slices? Me and Chris want to multitask." Earning smiles from everyone in the kitchen, Buck got four slices and put two on each plate. He turned around and sighed at his family.

"Who's hungry?"

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