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#wide grass tape
tapeskingdom · 9 months
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forest landscape washi tape
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lovebugism · 4 months
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I had this idea about eddie dating reader who is obsessed with pop boy bands! tysmm
i'm so obsessed with this idea bless you anon — the town freak tries to impress the local cool girl and, in true eddie munson fashion, it doesn't go as quite expected (friends to lovers, fluff, shameless it reference, 1.1k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie stands across the counter at Family Video and lays a collection of cassettes on top of it. 
Steve blinks once at the tapes, then twice up at him. “…What is this?” he wonders, visibly dumbfounded.
“Do you interrogate every customer that comes in here?” the wild-haired boy quips, digging into the pockets of his leather jacket for some wadded-up bills. “Just scan it.”
“New Kids on the Block? New Edition?” Steve announces as he bags each plastic case. His chiseled features twist in confusion. “Who are you, and what did you do with Eddie Munson?”
“It’s not for me, dingus.”
“First of all, don’t call me that. And second of all, who the hell is it for then?”
“Someone. No one,” Eddie mumbles, shrugging and shifting his weight on his feet, doing a terrible job of hiding his sudden sheepishness. “Don’t worry about it.”
Steve’s eyes narrow. “A girl?”
“…Maybe.”
“A pretty girl?”
Eddie scoffs an unamusing laugh. “Sure. If that’s the only way your pea brain knows how to describe someone as… uncanny, and demonic, and fascinating as she is.”
Steve’s brows pinch in a subtle horror. He’s not sure what most of those words mean, but they don’t really sound like compliments. He just shrugs and decides not to press it any further. “…Okay.”
“She’s just into this stuff, okay?” Eddie confesses, gesticulating wildly with his ringed hands. “And I wanna like the things that she likes— Is that so bad?”
“Yeah, actually. It’s very, very bad,” Steve answers without thinking twice. He passes him the plastic bag full of tapes with a sympathetic glint in his eye. “’Cause that means you’re in love.”
————— 
Eddie stands outside the arcade in wait for you. He knows you always come to The Palace on Fridays — right before the school day ends, so you have a couple hours of peace before the snotty middle schoolers run you out with their post-P.E. stench.
He wears a set of headphones over his untamed curls and a walkman clipped to his jeans. It plays a pop song he’s only ever heard on the car radio. Steve’s radio, specifically. He’s heard you hum it a time or two, and it’s the only time he’s ever been able to stand it — as if he needed another reason to prove Steve right. 
He was head over heels, disgustingly, wretchedly, completely, utterly, and totally in love with you.
Propped against the driver’s side door of his van, he exhales smoke from his lungs and sees you walking down the sidewalk. 
Your pink tights swish at the knees while your plaid skirt, in a grass green color, flutters around your thighs. Your sweater’s bright blue, and the only thing halfway matching the rest of your outfit is the bright emerald dinosaur pictured on the front of it.
You beam at the sight of him. “Teddy? What are you doing here?”
“I’d guess the same thing you’re doing here, sweetheart,” he quips, playing cool as he snuffs out his cigarette with the heel of his worn sneaker.
“Normally, you’re busy on Fridays… I’m starting to feel like you’re stalking me.”
Eddie’s deep brown eyes narrow, twinkling with dark chocolate. “And how would you know that I’m busy on Fridays?” he teases, tilting his wild head to his shoulder.
You shrug, faltering for a blink of a moment. “Corroded Coffin always performs on Fridays. Everyone knows that.”
“Well, maybe just you and the… four other drunks that happento come to the Hideout on Fridays,” he jokes with a boyish laugh.
“Touché,” you concede, smiling wider. “Whatcha listening to?”
You reach out for him, taking the headphones from his ears like you always do. You place them over your own head and expect to hear something loud and heavy — that’s what you usually catch him listening to, anyway. A wide smile blooms on your lips when a familiar song fills your ears.
“New Kids on the Block?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, voice distant with disbelief.
Eddie had been expecting this. He’d spent ten minutes praying this exact moment would happen, but he stumbles over himself about it anyway. “Yeah. Uh, Family Video— They’re selling tapes and stuff now— To keep from going out of business, I guess,” he stammers, laughing awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck. “So, I don’t know. I guess, I thought I’d—”
“Buy it for yourself?” you finish for him, with a knowing grin on your petaled mouth. “And then try to impress me by waiting outside the arcade I go to every Friday? Even though you’re usually busy practicing?”
You see right through him with little effort. Mostly because you’re one and the same — hopelessly in love and tripping over yourselves with it.
Eddie nods, then laughs. “Yeah, actually. That’s— That’s the half of it, yeah.”
Your smile quietens when you slip the headphones back over his head, fingers brushing his curls and palms grazing his flushed cheeks. “Maybe we can go together sometime?” you offer and step back from him again. “I can show you where they kept the real music. You know, make sure they got the right stuff to listen to.”
His chest swells. He almost forgets to breathe. 
He never, in a million years, would’ve expected his first unofficial date with you to be at Family Video, of all places — but he’s grateful for it nonetheless. He figures he could go just about anywhere and be happy as long as he could look over and see you standing right beside him.
Eddie nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Sure. Yeah. That sounds— That sounds good.”
“I’ll call you when I’m free,” you tease and walk on by him. 
You’re always free. He knows that. You’re always everywhere and nowhere all at once. Even now, standing right in front of him, you’ll disappear like you’d never been there at all. You just like to keep him guessing, really, and he knows that, too. It’s why he melts for you so easy.
“Okay,” he nods, rapid and utterly dumb.
“I’ll see you soon. Maybe.”
He watches you meander towards the entrance of the arcade. Words start to bubble in his throat. They spill out before his brain can decide whether or not to actually say them. “Please don’t go girl,” he blurts while the lyrics of the same song croon in his ears.
You spin around and blink wordlessly at him. You don’t look confused, but you don’t look impressed either. Eddie can’t gauge the emotion on your face, and he falters.
“That’s the... That’s the name of… of one of their songs,” he stammers.
He blinks, and you’re beaming again. A golden laugh spills from your lips, like honey and summer and sunshine. “I know, Teddy,” you grin — voice as warm and as fond as your glittering gaze. 
He grieves when you turn away again, walking into the arcade without looking back at him once.
Eddie doesn’t breathe again until you’re gone, forgets how to until you’re done clouding his vision.
You’ll be the death of him yet.
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star-suh · 6 months
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Enemies to Fuckers
Park Sunghoon x Male Reader 
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cw: enemies to lovers friends trope, university au, anonymous sex at first, gloryhole, implied musk kink, implied sweat kink, drunk sex, bathroom sex, hair pulling, creampie, dirty talk, fluff-ish end.
another year of studying at the university it's coming to an end and as always one of the brotherhoods will be in charge of organizing a party. This time it's the turn of the one that sunghoon belongs to. 
y/n was sitting on the grass listening to music while drinking some cold coffee. when he turned his head he saw that sunghoon was coming towards him handing out the invitations “fuck he's coming” he tried to gather his things as fast as posible and run away from there but two pairs of black boots stopped him from doing so. “do you hear that?” asked sunghoon to his companion “it's like a fuckass rabious dog it's around here” both laughed. “yeah and there's a bitch too. i'm looking at it right now” y/n mocked making eye contact with sunghoon. “son of a bitch” sunghoon was ready to punch y/n but his companion stopped him “what happened pretty boy? if you like throwing “jokes” at someone you gotta learn to take them as well” he winked and then made a disgusted face getting ready to go. “see you tonight at the party fucking pussy” sunghoon threw his invitation to the floor and went on with his day.
the rivalry between them began with that pathetic cliché that one was smarter than the other. every day the competition was growing, the tension as well and in the end it exploded with sunghoon ruining y/n's project ending in a fist fight where they both got bruises, cuts and a two-weeks suspension. since that day they cannot see each other and if they do they will say all the possible insults at each other and if they don't remember any more they will make new ones.
y/n was standing in front of the door that separated him from the party, the boy was hesitating whether to enter or not and just when he was going to leave he saw his crush, jay park, enter the party "maybe it's a good opportunity to talk to him..." y/n murmured as he crossed the door. 
hours have passed and he hasn't found jay. "he's probably fucking a lucky bitch" he pouted gulping the remaining liquid on his cup. he was getting dizzy and walked towards the bathroom holding onto the walls to not trip and die of embarrasment in front of the whole university. he sat on the toilet and closed the door. when he was about to fall asleep he noticed a hole in one of the sides of the bathroom stall “the fuck is this” he wondered watching how it had tape surrounding the edges.
he was getting ready to get out of the bathroom when suddenly a big veiny cock appeared from the other side of the hole.
y/n's jaw dropped and he finally connected the dots “this is a fucking gloryhole!! what the actual fu–”. “are you gonna suck it or what?” a kinda familiar voice asked. y/n's face and neck were red as a tomato it was the first time he had seen such a beautiful and appetizing cock, his mouth was watering.
“if you're not going to do something move out and let others do i–hngh…” moaned the other male. y/n kissed the tip licking the pre-cum and then swallowed all the shaft “hmpgh soo goodd~” the cock's smell sending him into a dizzier state. “you're deepthroathing skills are fucking amazing” growled the male on the other side “no other bitch has sucked me as good as you” he added thrusting his cock at an animalistic pace chasing that feeling, seconds later cumming inside the other's throat. on the other side y/n came as well painting the bathroom's floor in white. drool mixed with cum spilling out of his mouth while the cock keeps fucking him.
then the cock suddenly disappeared leaving a pouting y/n that wanted more of it. suddenly the bathroom's door is opened and both males make eye contact, mouths wide open. it's as if the drunkenness of both of them has dissipated. an awkward silence between them as they look at each other with disgust. “i can't believe i just sucked fuckass sunghoon… so disgusting” y/n broke the silence “that's not what you were saying before tho. you were moaning like a bitch in heat” sunghoon pointed his finger touching y/n's chest.
“don't fucking touch me asshole” snarled y/n. “or what?” sunghoon's face inches away from y/n's. they stare at each other's lips… it's a desperate kiss, finally the tension between them broke again but this time in a more pleasant way.
“your sucking skills are so damn good. i want to see how you handle it down there” a hand sliding down y/n's underwear and a finger started rubbing his hole. with his hands locked around sunghoon's neck while the latter kissed his neck y/n asked “i thought you liked pussies”. “but you're a pussy… fucking coward” he snickers. “that doesn't make sens–” sunghoon hand covered his mouth “shut the fuck up and let's just fuck, i'm so bricked”..
sunghoon sat on the toilet while y/n rode him taking all the cock inside him. “hngh shit” he growled “who would've thought that I was fucking my enemy... the worst of all is that he has such a tight and delicious fuckhole” y/n just trying to contain his laugh after hearing that focusing on squeezing hard sunghoon's cock “come on cream this fucking hole. m-motherfucker”. “what's the hurry whore? we have all the night. and i have a lot of cum to cream your fuckhole so many times” whispering that last part.
the sound of skin slapping being muffled by the loud music, sunghoon pulling y/n's hair so he can thrust hard “gonna break you and make you come asking for more” sunghoon's tongue licking a strip from y/n's neck till his upper back tasting the sweat “salty” he murmured pushing down y/n's head so he can fuck him harder.
y/n's velvety walls clenching on sunghoon's fuckmeat as if his life depends on it “ready to get your used hole creampied, slut?”, “hng.. yeah bastard be-be fast i want to go home now” he fucked himself on the thick piece of meat. the cock tip brushed that sweet spot on y/n making him see stars and cumming hands free, splurts of sticky cum covering the toilet's lid “oh my god… hngh.. that felt so– good..”. “i know, everyone always told me that” a cocky sunghoon proud kf his fucking skills pull out his dick, jerking it off and spilling his seeds around and on top of the gaping hole of y/n. then uses his cock to scoop it and introduce it again to ride his high, thrusting some times more.
the party organizer helped y/n to clean up and get dressed, then he put him in the car and drove to his house.  “you know.. kinda like it what happened tonight” sunghoon commented “wanna repeat it.. another time when we are sober?” … there was silence but this time it wasn’t awkward … “yeah.. i like it too…” y/n's blushing face being noticed by the driver “friends?” he asks … “friends” sunghoon shook his hand. “then as an act to celebrate this fucking friendship and because you shouldn't be driving while drunk.. umm why don't you sleep in my house” y/n offered to sunghoon who's eyebrows raised in surprise “..unm ‘kay but i'm not sharing a bed with you”. “of course no dumbass you're sleeping on the carpet like the filthy dog you are” a gentle punch landing on sunghoon's arm who just smiled.. ‘cute’ he thought.
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starrystevie · 11 months
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"it's a vhs night, huh?" eddie asks as he comes out of the kitchen, two mugs of decaf coffee in one hand, a box of oreos in the other. steve's on his knees in front of the tv with tapes scattered around him, a mixture of home movies and mashed up concert recordings and episodes of star trek that are bound to get recorded over eventually. he turns around as his husband enters the living room and opens his mouth for a cookie that eddie happily feeds him.
"yeah, why not?" he gives eddie a half smile that makes the crows feet around his eyes crinkle even more. "just feeling nostalgic, i guess."
eddie hums and sits on his end of the couch before pulling one foot up to cross over his knee. he takes a sip of the bitter black coffee and dunks an oreo in to soften it up then pops it into his mouth. steve finally settles on a video and rewinds it to the start, curling up on his side of the cushions with his feet tucked under eddie's thigh. a hand finds its way around his ankle and a thumb strokes at the soft skin it can find. gentle, comforting, home.
the grainy picture on the screen straightens out and the sound clicks on along with it. the greens of the grass are a little faded and the blue of the sky is dull but it's still clear enough to make out steve on the swings at the park down the road from loch nora. steve's mom is behind the camera yelling for him to pump your legs, good job stevie, there you go, wow you're going so high and the grin on the boy's face is a wide as the sky above him.
"you were so cute, what happened?" eddie murmurs with a chuckle causing steve to slap at the thigh currently warming his feet.
"i'm still cute, thank you very much." steve grumbles out his response which makes eddie chuckle again, leaning over with a groan to smash a kiss to his cheek.
there's little voices echoing in the background as steve continues to swing and the video switches suddenly to him on a red check blanket eating a sandwich. he has jelly on his cheek in the same place that eddie had placed a kiss not a minute earlier and it has them both cooing like the old men they are.
but then there's a flash of something in the background. a little kid runs by followed by what's presumably his mother and it distracts little steve, who turns on his blanket to watch the two running.
"is that...?" steve starts, turning to eddie who's staring at the screen with rapt attention. the gasp he gets in return is the only answer he could possibly need. the hand around his ankle gets a little tighter and he watches as a watery smile spreads across eddie's face, salt-and-pepper beard crinkling up on his cheeks.
"that's me, that's-" he breathes out, curling in on himself slightly to peer closer at the video. in the video, steve's still staring at the little boy in the park getting picked up by his mom and being thrown in the air. his little giggles break through the speakers as his mom catches him, cradling him to her chest as she runs off screen. they come back into frame a few seconds later and crash side-by-side onto the grass. their arms start pointing at the sky like they're finding shapes in the clouds and eddie inhales sharply. "-that's my mom."
steve reaches down and clasps his hand around eddie's where it's still on his bony ankle, trailing his fingers over his husband's. eddie looks up and tosses a bewildered grin at steve who catches it easily and returns it with one of his own. as if they have magnets stored in their hearts from where the universe made them for each other, the two move closer to one another instinctually until they have arms around waists and fingers tangled together and heads on shoulders.
they sit in silence for the next few minutes, reliving a time when they were still boys with their mothers, happy and loved, not even knowing their soulmate was right next to them.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months
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BRO I'VE BEEN HOLDING BACK CAUSE I THOUGHT YOU'D ALREADY HAVE TOO MANP CAP. MACTAVISH REQUESTS I-
I'm here to rectify this issue immediately, how about one with him and the reader being soft? something bout seeing this rugged man melt when he comes home to his darling just egIUAfosnkew IT'S SO SWEET
—Look At The Stars; Look At Me
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞
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You breathe slowly, eyes gazing longingly far above you at the twinkling lights. They take up your pupils in the low glow of the moon—the dots of those far-off globes of hydrogen and helium shining bright. 
The glade behind the hidden forest home is filled with the scent of wildflowers, grass, and the grind of fresh earth; it captures your nostrils as the fireflies come out to dance on iridescent wings. Under you, John’s blanket lets you be just the tiniest bit closer to him for the moment, limbs loose, sleep-clothes compliant to the flow of the breeze as it spreads a whisper through the leaves. 
A deer snorts downwind, a low call over the air that can be felt in the gentle quiet. Crickets creak like the old floorboards of a lived-in home. You’re eased by the knowledge that, as your Lover drives back to this place—back to you—he’s under the same stars as the ones you gawk at in the skin of an awe-drunk woman who loves him more than even this. 
A car pulls down the worn-grass road, and you hear the brakes lightly squeak on that shitty rental, a smile twitches along your face, but you don’t move.
He knows where to find you this late; knows you wouldn’t go to sleep when he’d called you not two hours earlier to say he’s back. 
The both of you are stubborn and know the other more than a priest knows his own God.
A soft whistle lets you know he’ll be there in a moment, coming from behind the treeline before the sound of a car door getting closed echoes. The birds pause for a moment, though not seconds later they re-start their bedtime symphonies. 
There’s a rustling, and your heart picks up the pace gradually, excitement making your lips peel slowly back into a wide smile as you gaze at the Herdsman and his glittering Arcturus star. Painting pictures in your mind, you think of the untold number of things he’s seen from his deep-space throne as your lover returns like a lumbering hound, already hearing his large sigh at the sight of you. 
You don’t shift your gaze until an accented comment makes you chuckle. 
“Bit of a cold night to be doin’ this,” John’s face peaks into your field of view, leaning above you with his arms crossed—one of those dark brows raised.
He looks worse for wear with a big bruise over the left side of his jaw, and medical tape on his dark eyebrow ridge. The scar is still there, over his left eye; his orbs that continue to glint more than the stars ever could in your gaze. 
You hum in your throat, blinking up at him with a tilted nose. 
“What?” Your voice makes the hardness of his face dim, a small sigh through his nostrils as if he could never truly get out of that version of himself without hearing you speak first. “Did you expect me to miss a view like this?”
He scoffs, tilting his head. “I’m not that much of an idiot. Move it.”
You smile widely, staying directly in the middle of his blanket as a smirk slashes the Captain’s lips, his blues deepening. A bird darts away from above his head. 
“Already misbehaving, then? Not a good start, Little Lady.” 
“I was here first, MacTavish.” He makes an amused noise in his throat, moving his hands from his arms to grasp under yours. You squeal, laughing loudly as he drags you up with a low chuckle into his large shirt and tucked pants. 
“Aye, you were here first,” he brings you up into his arms—a bridal hold that leads you to wrap your arms around his neck as you shake with glee, burying your head into his flesh. “Never said you weren’t.” Lips whisper into your ear and he can feel your smile as it spreads against him. “But you’ve got to pick your battles wisely, eh? I’m the one who can carry you on my arm.”
You kiss his neck a few times, quick kisses in between mutterings of love; his beard shifts as he lets a small smile, amusement lingering yet dimming for something far more important. The word seems more alive than it had moments ago, but that’s not a bad thing. No, not at all. 
“What’s the point of interest tonight, then?” He slips off his boots and walks you back onto the blanket, smoothing it out with his foot before he grunts and settles down—you in his lap. “I’ve lost where we were last time.”
“The Herdsman, John,” you remind gently, pushing on his chest so he lays back with no argument, shifting you into the crook of his right arm as it circles you. He gently squeezes and presses you tighter. 
On his chest you place your head, arm snaking around his waist to suck in his warmth with a soft sigh.
“Ah, that’s right. Herdsman.”
He kisses your forehead, digging his nose into you and closing his eyes softly. None of the stars could compare to the one in his arms—he’ll leave the gazing to you in the meantime. 
Your body in the gap between his arm was all he needed. 
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optimist-pine · 1 month
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Dream
Summary: in which Daryl discovers something about his heart
Warnings: Typical TWD content
Word Count: 1,021
Era: Season 4, the Claimers
A/n: The most selfish thing I've ever written - but also my favorite <3
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Wooden boards creak beneath the soles of his boots as he climbs the stairs of the cozy cottage. Beside the front door, using the wall as a brace, he toes off mud-caked shoes, adding them to the pile of others, all smaller than his own. Dried clumps of dirt scatter about, some falling through gaps in the porch to join the barren ground below. The lanky old tomcat abandons sunbathing to rub lazily against his pantleg with a purr, and Daryl appeases him with a good scritch under the chin.
The screen door is unlocked as always, and as he crosses the threshold into the home his heart settles into a comfortable lull. A breeze flows in through open windows, ruffling faded curtains and artwork made by tiny hands taped to walls; fluttering the pages of a book laying open and knocking over pieces of a board game strewn about the floor. It fills the space with the gentle sounds and smells of early summer. Blooming flowers and birdsong.
He sets his kill down as he passes through a kitchen that bears the remains of freshly baked muffins, few left intact in an abundance of crumbs. Out of a cooling teapot wafts a pleasant blend of lavender, cinnamon, orange, and clove.
He pauses for a moment before the back door, listening as laughter and high-pitched squeals echo just beyond it. Then, pushing his way to the other side, his heart leaps. He's barely taken a step when he's bombarded.
"Daddy!" Voices shout as a tangle of little arms entrap him, tiny bodies clinging to his legs and stepping on his toes. A baby's happy shrieks add to the clamor of giggles as he ruffles sun-warmed heads, attempting to tug his feet forward.
But then they get him down and he lands with an 'oomph' in the soft grass, sharp elbows and knees clambering across him like he's a new piece of playground equipment to explore. The dog's licking his face, and the baby's hands clap excitedly and now everyone's laughing.
"Woah woah woah, time out." And there you are. You lean over the chaos with a grin, the sun framing your silhouette as tree branches sway behind you. You smell like spearmint and lily of the valley, cheeks pink from working the garden, and as your hand comes to rest on the slight bump of your belly he knows he's never seen a more beautiful sight.
"Did ya leave somethin' dead on my table again, mister?" You question, hands moving to your hips in an attempt to be stern.
There's no getting away with denying it, so he'll plead his case instead. "Ain'tcha gonna help me out 'ere?" He asks, reaching a hand up to you.
You ignore it with a shake of your head. "Guilty men must pay for their crimes." With a sharp nod, you turn to the children. "Show 'im his punishment." You instruct, bare feet making way to gather up the baby who's beginning to feel left out.
Those itty-bitty fingers are too good at finding every secretly ticklish spot, and he can only hold out for so long before he has to wriggle away from their assault.
On his feet again, he reaches out and spins you toward himself breathless and spirited. "Guess if 'm already a criminal I migh' as well steal'a kiss." He says, moving his hand to cradle your bump and the little one growing inside.
"Might as well, huh?" You repeat, the smile on your face so radiant that when your lips touch an overwhelming contentment courses through him. A soft, pudgy palm lands on his cheek and the two of you pull apart to the wide eyes and dulcet coos of the baby. He cups his other hand around the little head, placing a tender kiss on top.
The little rascals waste no time returning to their ruckus, tugging at him to follow. "Daddy, c'mon! We gotta show you somethin'!"
"Yeah! C'mon, Daddy!" The voice cries.
But he's stuck in place, unable to move as everything begins to fade away.
... No... Daryl can feel consciousness pulling at him, roughly dragging him into a new day. He begs his mind to stay; to linger. He never wants to leave this moment, a memory of something that never happened - that would never happen. But he can't stop it and he wakes on the cold cement, eyes opening only to focus on the bloodied floor where a man took his last breath a few hours ago.
He knows now. He can't stay with these people. The desperate ache in his chest reminds him of everything he'll lose if he gives up now. Even if all he loses is a dream. It would be too much.
That night, ready to make his move and depart from the men while they're distracted, he hesitates, just for a second, his heart dropping suddenly into his stomach. It's Rick, and Michonne, and... you. Sitting on a log right there, so close, face illuminated in the flickering firelight. Even in the darkness, he can see the swell of your abdomen holding his future - your future.
Your eyes find him at the same time that the barrel of a gun is aimed at your head. He's never felt a fury like he does now, all-devouring and consuming...
When it's over, you pull him close, burying your face into him like you can hide away in the folds of his clothes and the beat of his heart. His arms wrap around you so tightly, and oh - how he wishes he could keep you right here, where he knows you'll both be safe and protected. But he can't.
You pull away slightly, just enough to whisper, "We're okay. We're gonna be okay."
He nods, one hand on your belly and the other bringing your head back to his chest. Just for one more moment. He desperately wants to tell you his dream. To tell you that he believes that too. But he settles for, "I love you."
Your voice echoes back, clear and true, "I love you too."
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miniwheat77 · 1 year
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Protective. (Ghost x Reader)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, slight yandere behavior, mentions of blood and violence, death, possessive Ghost, men making reader uncomfortable, (let me know if I missed any.)
(Summary): Ghost discovers his feelings for reader and doesn't know how to deal with them.
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When you joined task force 141, everyone took you under their wing. They looked over you.
You were significantly younger than everyone else, smaller than the massive men too. They didn’t need to look out for you, you could handle yourself obviously but they felt obligated.
Ghost specifically felt the need to watch over you. He was constantly watching you from afar, watching you interact with everyone else on base. Making sure you were happy and not uncomfortable. A couple times men on base have made you uncomfortable it doesn’t take Ghost long to intervene.
Soap had made a couple jokes about it in the past, how his stern eyes watched upon you constantly to make sure you were okay. A small threat had Johnny not making another comment. Mumbling out a small “I’m just joking LT, damn.” Ghost tried to push these feelings he had back. Tried to think about anything besides you. But he just couldn’t. He always felt this slight burn in his chest when he seen you interacting with the other men on base, felt the sting when you were friendly to him. He wanted you to be his. Sometimes he’d daydream about you, a life with you. He imagined you sitting with your feet in his lap, massaging your feet while you were plump with his baby. He imagined running his hands over your pregnant belly. He was obsessed before he knew it. And he didn't know how to control it.
Ghost respected Alejandro and Rudy. He respected Los Vaqueros. But when Alejandro flirted with you, called you pretty. A wave of anger he’d never felt before came over him and it didn’t take long for him to intervene there too, saying you needed to get to the next base for a mission. He liked Alejandro, but couldn't help but hate him for saying such things to you, you were his, didn't he know that?
Ghost is staring off into space. It's lunchtime for him, everyone else is scattered on base. A couple men are off on missions but 141 was still here awaiting their next mission together. He's staring down at his MRE, it's not good at all. A giggle left your lips and Ghosts ears perked up immediately. Who was making you laugh like that? He stood up from his chair, rounding the corner to see where you were and who the hell was making you giggle like that. He relaxes when he sees you down on one knee. “Fawn, what are you doing?” His voice is stern and you jump slightly. “There’s a ladybug.” You smile, picking it up. His heart jumps in his chest. He’s smiling under his mask but you can’t see it. “What, ya gonna keep it as a pet?” His rough voice warms your ears.
“Can I?”
“What?” He says confused. “Can you even keep them as pets?”
“Yeah?”
You perked up. “How?” You ask. “Just.. get a jar and put some grass and sticks it in or something.” He crosses his arms. “Do you know if we have a jar?” You blush. He sees your reddening cheeks, this is his moment. This is it. He nods his head for you to follow him. “I don’t have a jar but I do have a plastic thing that was full of those furniture sliders.” He breathes. It’s a cylindrical shape, 8 or so inches tall by 4 wide. It has a plastic top with tape. “Cmon, I’ll help you.” You follow him out, cupping the ladybug in your hand so it doesn’t fly away. Ghost washes it out with soap and water. He makes sure all of the soap is rinsed out and dries it, stabbing some holes in the top for ventilation, making sure not to make them too wide. He didn't want the ladybug escaping. “Here. Put it in.” He holds it out. You let the ladybug crawl off of your hand and into the side of the container, closing the lid. You follow him outside, cute smile on your face as you look into the jar at the ladybug. He helps you gather everything you need for it. A small layer of dirt and grass in the bottom, leaves, sticks. You had spent some time outside with Ghost before. Usually you picked weeds in your free time to make the front of the base look a little nicer. Ghost would lie and say he needed some sun, which didn’t make much sense with the mask but who’s really keeping count. Sometimes, you’d pick a flower and hand it over to him. Occasionally you’d tuck it under the straps of his helmet, or on his vest somewhere. Sometimes he’d “forget about it.” And would only remove it when someone would point it out or until it died. Soap teased him the couple times he’d seen you doing this. It was probably weird, but he never threw them away. He would flatten the petals out and leave them in a book to flatten them out.
“What do they eat?” You ask, looking at it in the jar. “I think microscopic insects.” He’s watching you. You’re sitting in a chair and he’s standing behind you. “You’ll have to keep adding leaves and dirt and grass so that it has more to eat.” You nod your head. He’s watching you as you looked at it. His heart swells in his chest. “Should we wet it down a little bit?” You ask. “Yeah, Johnny has a spray bottle for his hair.” He disappears down the hallway.
He knocks at Soap’s door. “What’s up LT?” He asks. “Can I borrow your spray bottle?”
“Uh.. yeah? What for?” He asks. “Y/N found a ladybug and made a terrarium for it.” Soap smiles. “Ah. You helped her?” He smirks. “Yeah?” He narrows his eyes. “The spray bottle Johnny.”
“I’m going I’m going.” He raises his hands in surrender. Johnny could see right through Ghost, and Ghost hated it. He knew he liked you. Soap hands him the bottle and he spins around, walking back toward the mess hall where he had left you. He passes you the spray bottle, sitting in a chair next to you as you moved the ladybug out to mist the inside of the container. When you’re finished, you put the ladybug back in and smile. “I’m gonna keep it in my room.” You smile. “Come on.” You grasp Ghosts hand. He feels his heart freeze in his chest, breathing out. Just the slightest touch from you had his heart jumping in his chest. You pull him along. Placing the small container on the small nightstand you had. You scooted it to be near a window. Half of the container was in the sun, the other was in the shade. “There. You got your pet ladybug, fawn.” He let’s out a deep chuckle. You smile real wide at it, and his eyes want to roll back into his head at how sweet you were. A knock at your door has you both perking up. “You both decent?” Soap asks. “Uh… yeah?” You say confused. Soap opens the door and smiles. “Sorry, seen you both come in here alone. Didn’t want to walk in on anything.” Your face heats up, realizing. Ghost wants to ring Johnny’s neck. “No, we’ve already finished.” You send a wink Soaps way, and Ghosts cheeks burn, eyes widened. Soap laughs. “Jesus Christ.” He rolls his eyes. “Was thinking about going to the pub later. You guys wanna come?” Ghost would only agree if you said yes.
“Uh.. sure yeah.” You smile. Ghost crosses his arms. “Yeah I’ll go.”
For the rest of the day, Ghost was glued to your side. Most of your time was spent in the mess hall, talking to each other.
When the time came to go to the bar with them, you got a little dressed up, not your usual uniform. You were squeezed in the back seat of Price’s truck next to Soap and Ghost. You were in the middle between the massive men of course. Gaz in the passenger seat, and Price was driving. “Why you so dolled up little lady? Planning on going home with someone?” Soap smirks. Ghosts eyes tear him to shreds from the other seat. “Got a piece of Ghost and want more already?” He tries to save himself. “No. I just wanted to feel like a person today.” You blush. “I’m just giving you a hard time. We all know Ghost isn’t gonna let you go off anywhere alone. He’s like your protector.” Soap nudges you. Ghost wants to tear Johnny apart right now.
When you arrive, you follow everyone inside. Ghost is behind you. Following you close behind.
The night goes pretty smoothly. Everyone is sitting at the bar until a few of them decide to play pool. Ghost excuses himself to the bathroom. He sits at the sink, he hated this. He hated feeling this way for you, he didn’t feel this way for anyone. He was usually able to swallow down his feelings but he just couldn’t with you. He takes a deep breath, walking back out to the bar. He sees that someone has filled his seat next to you. Price, Gaz and Soap have disappeared to the back to play pool. They didn’t really need to see this anyways. Ghost could see how uncomfortable you were. “I’m sorry- but I have a boyfriend.” He hears you lie. This random man’s hand reaches to touch your hair. Toying with it. “I don’t see him anywhere.”
“He went to the bathroom,” you shrug his hand away. Ghost knew you could handle yourself. But knew you didn’t really like to with your own people. You only wanted to eliminate terrorists. “I was just in there, didn’t see him. Why are you lying sweetheart? You don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Yes. She does.”
The man looks up from you, seeing Ghost standing tall. 6’4 1/2. Mask on his face. Arms crossed. His chest raised with his intake of a sharp breath, he wanted to kill him. His eyes burned a hole into the man. Nobody was supposed to be touching you, period. “I suggest you get away from her, before I make you.” Ghost raises his jacket, showing his sidearm in his waistband. The man’s eyes widen and he raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was taken.”
“She told you she was, mess with another girl in here again and you will regret it.” He seethes. The man stands up, walking for the door.
Your heart flutters with admiration. The way he defends you, it’s so amazing. It makes you feel invincible. A breath leaves your lips. Ghost sits down next to you. “You okay? Did he hurt you?” His hands are on you, making sure you’re okay. “I’m fine Simon, thank you.” You breath. The way his name rolls off of your lips. It throws him for a curveball, closing his eyes tightly. You’ve never called him that before, it puts him in a daze. “I like that.” His voice is deep, raspy. “What?”
“I like when you call me Simon.” You smile. “Well. I like your name, Simon.” You chuckle. Ghost could tell you were a little buzzed.
This is what this was. This is why he’s having such a hard time with you. You see right through him, right through his tough shell. You see Simon. This wasn’t Ghost growing feelings for you. This was Simon. He’d pushed back Simon, as far back as he could. Simon had been hurt one too many times and all that was left was Ghost. Until you came along of course. Simon emerges from the depths of his mind, every time you compliment him, or give him those tiny purple and white flowers, a Daisy occasionally. Sometimes you’d manage to find a wild rose, passing it to him. When you were hurt, his eyes full of worry. That was Simon.
Ghost only ever seemed to emerge when someone was messing with you. When it came to killing people for you, when you’d been shot or stabbed or cut. He was heartless, ruthless. When it came to them. He had no mercy for those who endangered you. But, once the threat was eliminated. When you laid there, laughing off the pain, fading feeling of dying haunting your brain like a plague. It was Simon who aided you. Simon who’s eyes filled with tears, scared to death at the thought of losing you. It was Simon who sat in the infirmary with you, by your side. Jumping at the slightest snap or sound. It was Simon who felt the rush of relief when your eyes opened and you sent him that same lazy smile. His heart swelling in his chest.
Ghost was in danger because of Simon. He’d pushed Simon back all of those years ago. The pain, the hurt. The shredding he felt in his chest from sorrow and despair he’d suffered from other people, from the military. From losing everyone he’d ever loved, losing everyone he’d ever known. He felt sick. He felt nothing but sheer pain.
He was coming to terms with it. Simon would take back over when it came to you.
He was in love with you.
He had nothing else to do but accept it, accept the fact that you were haunting his mind day and night.
“Do you want to go back to base, fawn?” He asks. You nod your head. “I thought that… dressing like this would make me feel normal. Not put me at risk.” The sadness in your eyes makes Ghost want to march outside. Find that man, and beat him until he stops moving. He hated seeing you sad. “Let’s go, we’ll walk back. It’s not far.” He smiles. He passes you his jacket, leaving him in a long sleeve black shirt. “Hey, we’re going to head back to base. She’s not feeling good.” He says to the others. They nod their head, and he walks back to you. Exiting the doors with you. “Thank you, for being so kind to me Ghost.” You smile. He nods his head. The walk back to base isn’t so bad, it’s a little cold, the air nipping at your cheeks. Ghosts jacket keeps you warm for the most part. “You want to check on my ladybug with me?” You smile. “Sure love.” He laughs. You grasp his hand, pulling him along to your room. When you get inside, your ladybug is still crawling around. “I’m not sure what I’m gonna name it.” You look at it closely, resting your head on your hand. He thinks for a second. “I’m not sure.” The both of you think for another few minutes. “I got a couple books in my room. Maybe we can find something there.” He laughs. You nod your head, following behind him.
When you get there, he passes you a book. He doesn’t think. He totally forgets.
You flip a couple pages and a little dried flower wisps it’s way to the floor. Ghosts eyes widen and you furrow your eyebrows, picking it up in confusion. “Is this..” you start, flipping through the book, finding many more. A small smile appears on your lips and his eyes look down, crimson creeping up onto his cheeks. “Are these the ones I’ve given you, Ghost?” You ask. “Uh..” he scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah.” You smile. “I didn’t know you kept them. I thought that you just threw them away.” You smile, tucking the fallen flower back between the pages. “Yeah.. I.. My mum always taught me how to make stuff with them. It’s a force of habit.” He rushes his words. “I think it’s sweet.” You smile. He laughs. A genuine laugh. You’re so oblivious to his feelings for you. You’re so sweet, it’s almost too much to bare. It’s hard for him to believe you’ve killed people, that you were so mentally and physically strong when it came to the military. “Listen.. Y/N.” He breathes. Your real name falling from his lips has you looking at him in confusion.
This wasn’t Ghost talking anymore. It was Simon.
“Sit down for me, yeah?” His voice is soft, something you’ve never heard before. It leaves you confused. He grasps the bottom of his mask, pulling it over his head and completely off. Your eyes widen. Having never seen him before. His blue eyes burn into yours and you’re in awe by the fact that he’s just revealed himself to you. Not Ghost. But Simon.
He takes your hands in his, kneeling before you. “I..” he takes a deep breath. “I like you.” He sighs. “And. I always told myself I’d never put myself in this position again. But I can’t take it anymore. I need you to know. That I have feelings for you. It’s okay if you don’t like me back. I just needed you to know, needed to get this off my chest.” He breathes. He looks down. He expects to be rejected by you. You were much younger than him, he imagined you’d never go for someone like him.
You take him completely off guard. Cupping his cheeks with your hands and pulling him in to kiss you. When his lips are on yours, it lights a fire inside of him. He wraps his arms around your lower back, lifting you up with ease and you wrap your legs around his back. He shoves the small wooden chair to the side with his foot, and backs you up into the wall behind you. His lips don’t move from yours until the both of you are panting. Lips swollen and blushing from the rough kiss you’d just shared. “I.. I like you too. I’ve just been too anxious to say anything because I didn’t think you liked me back.” You smile, breathing out. He presses his forehead to yours. This was Simon. All of him. His eyes, his lips. His beautiful smile. “You’re.. so handsome.” You giggle and he pulls you back from the wall. Backing himself up until he falls back into his bed with you. You’re straddling his hips, scooting up onto him. “Thank you sweetheart.” He blushes. You can see the pink appearing onto his pale skin. He definitely needed some sun. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Simon.” You giggle. “Can’t believe you’ve kept such a beautiful face a secret.”
“I wish I could keep your beautiful face a secret. My own secret.” He smiles. This side of him was so different. You lean down, kissing him again. It felt so foreign. So forbidden. His lips were soft on your own and you couldn’t help yourself as you propped yourself up. You deepened the kiss and slid your hips up his front. It takes him off guard. Did you really want him like this? When he pulls away, he looks into your eyes. He doesn’t see even an ounce of hesitation. He slips his fingertips under your shirt, feeling his fingertips on your bare skin. It’s too much. He’s hardening beneath you, you can feel him throbbing against you. His dark jeans were refining him. You rock your hips into his, eyes darkening as you looked down into his eyes. A sigh leaves your lips when he pulls your hips into his, groaning out. “This is a bad idea,” he pants. “Yeah it is.” You lower yourself again. Lips on his. You kiss him harder than before, teeth knocking into his from the force of your kiss. You grasp the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. His fingers move along your waistband, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing them down your hips. You lift yourself up, sliding them down your legs and throwing them down with your shirt. You’re only in undergarments now, dazed from the effect he had on you. He unclasps your bra with ease, ditching it to the side. You’re only in panties now.
He pushes them down your thighs, exposing you to him completely. Your lips go back to his as he unbuttons his own jeans between the both of you. You have to move so that he can slide them off, pulling his shirt off. He’s fully naked now. Nothing is stopping you, no thin layers can be used as an excuse now. You look him in the eyes, taking a deep breath as you grasp his rock hard cock, lining him up with your sopping entrance. When the tip of his dick brushes against your wet folds, his eyes roll back. This didn’t feel real, he felt like he was dreaming, he’d wake up soon. He was sure of it. His fat cock pushes into your opening, stretching you. Your lips part, eyes widening slightly as he stretched you. “Oh-“ you breath. A gasp leaves your lips when he lifts his hips into yours, bottoming out in one thrust. “Fuck-“ you gasp out, the first time he’s heard you curse. And it’s on his cock.
He fits perfectly into you, brushing right into your spongy spot. He made your thighs shake and weaken. A lazy smile covers your lips and your eyes are screwed shut. “I.. it’s almost too much.” You giggle. Thighs shivering as you lift yourself up onto him, sliding back down. “Shit!” He groans out. “My god you are fucking tight around me.” He gasps. His chest felt heavy from the pleasure baring down onto him. “Fucking hell you feel good-“ he grits his teeth. Muscles showing as his clutches your hips. He wanted you to move against him, was going crazy by the a sense of you lifting your hips into him. You started grinding your hips into him, unable to lift yourself off of him without shaking and collapsing. It was pathetic how he made you like this, had these effects on you. He grasps your thighs, beginning to help you lift your hips into him. “Oh- it’s too much- ah!” You gasp. He lifts you up, flipping around to where you’re underneath him. Legs shivering, body spasming as he slipped into you. He bottoms out, growling out. “You’re going to have to let it be too much.” He groans, sliding his hips back and thrusting into you. Hard. A cry leaves your lips, and he thanks whatever god is out there that everyone else is at the pub. He hammers his hips into yours, bottoming out with each thrust. You could barely take it. “Ah! Simon!” You mewl, clutching onto the bed sheets. He halts his thrusts. “Hold your legs open for me sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” He breathes. You wrap your arms under your knees, pulling them apart. He takes a slow deep thrust, sliding perfectly into you. Brushing up against parts of you nobody had ever touched. Parts of you that you never thought were possible. A moan leaves your lips. Skin heating up and covering with a slight sheen of sweat. “Simon-“ you whimper.
This was different from any other person you’d been with. He was gentle with you, yet so rough. It felt different, the way his calloused hands touched you, so soft yet so warm. The way he touched you, it wasn’t desperation. It wasn’t lust, he took his time. He was caring, reassuring. Realization came down onto you. Washing over you like a rainstorm.
He was in love with you. Saving the flowers, watching over you, protecting you. Only you, no one else. He loved you.
Each thrust of his hips has you falling apart beneath him. You were no longer collected, no longer cared about how you looked. You moaned, whimpered, mewled. You could barely keep yourself together. He felt so good inside of you, and you were desperate for that high that he was pushing you closer and closer into. “Simon!” you moan. Bringing your hand down between the both of you to run circles at your nub. He pushed you further to your brink. You tried to keep your legs open for him. He leans down into you, panting into your ear. He was trying to keep himself together as well, but the way you squeezed around him had him struggling. He was moaning more than he wanted to, he didn’t want to feel anymore vulnerable than he already did, but the moans and whimpers slipped from his lips like a song, he couldn’t keep himself together, his lower stomach was clenching up tightly. He was so close. He clenches his teeth, gripping the sheets besides your head tightly. “I- I’m gonna cum Simon!” A pant falls from your lips and you’re right there. He keeps a steady pace, making sure not to move a muscle from where he was. Your eyes started to grow heavy, harder to keep them open. “I- I-“ a cry leaves your lips when he pushes you over the edge and he rides your high out. His hips halt. “Why are you stopping?” You pant out. “I don’t want to push you too far.” He breathes. “I can take it.” You look up at him. “Are you sure?”
You nod your head, so he continues. His thrusts resume their slow deep strokes until he’s hammering his hips into yours again, feeling your wetness dripping down the both of you. He bites his lip hard. Eyes screwed shut. He lifts himself up slightly, face a few inches from yours, the muscles in his arms clenching up tightly. “You can tell me if it’s too much okay?” His voice is deep and unsteady. His dog tags dangle in your face and you can feel another high building. You nod your head. The size of him makes you feel so small beneath him. He was so caring, even during something so sinful. He’s right on the edge within a few more thrusts, his cock twitching slightly. This is where Ghost starts to show through. Those cracks showing darkness. You were going to be his, he was going to knock you up. You were his- only his. He’d prove it to you. You were made for him, he could take care of you. He’d worship the ground you walked on. He would protect you. Thoughts of you, round with his child. It pushes him closer to his high, he was so lovestruck by you, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Forgive me sweetheart. I can’t stop myself.” He groans. “I don’t want you to stop- you can cum inside me.” He growls as you say it. Teeth gritted. So sweet, but letting him do such dirty things to you. When he finally hits his own high, his cock throbs hard with each spurt of his cum filling you up to the hilt. The sound of a door opening has you pulling him into you, kissing him hard to muffle his cries as he came hard into you. Pushing you into another orgasm. You muffled your own moans with his lips. “Fuck.” He grumbles. “Shhh.. S’okay.” You giggle quietly. “You’re soaked around me sweetheart.” He mumbles. Smiling into your lips as he kisses you again. He’s fucking perfect. Beads of sweat forming on his toned chest and arms. Face beat red, hair flattened with sweat. “Shit..” he sighs. Laying next to you. He hears another door close and could tell it was Soap going into his room for the night.
After a few minutes of laying together and cooling off, you clean up. Returning your clothes to each other and putting them back on. He follows you to your room quietly. Saying his good nights to you before returning to his own room. He sighs out. Sitting down on his bed. You were his.
As he lays on his bed, he thinks for a moment. The shadowy side of him beginning to appear. You needed to be his for good. He imagined fucking his cum deeper into you with his fingers, thought about sneaking into your room, you were just down the hall. He breathes out. He has to force himself to sleep so that he doesn’t act out. He wanted your trust, wanted you forever. He’d do anything to get it.
The following morning, he got up before everyone else, sneaking his way into your room. When he steps inside, he feels that it’s more cool than usual. He notices the frost growing in the small plastic container your ladybug was in. “Shit.” He mumbles to himself. You were warm under your blanket, small sighs still leaving your lips. You must’ve forgotten to turn on your heater. He picks up your terrarium, hurrying out the door quietly. He steals your alarm clock on his way out, setting the terrarium where the sunlight would shine so that it could warm up. He waits impatiently as the sun appears. Leg bouncing up and down. “Uh. LT? You okay?” Soap asks. “Yeah.” He sighs. Price appears, a confused look on his own face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He growls out. Price raises his hands in surrender. “Nothing son, you just. Um..” he breathes. “I moved Y/N’s alarm clock. Don’t wake her up.” He says quickly. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“Her ladybug froze, I’m going to go look for a new one when it warms up outside.” They nod their heads. “We can help you find one. What color was it?” Price asks. “It was Red, but it was a big one.” They nod their heads. When it’s warm enough, everyone is outside searching for ladybugs. “I’ve found 2, but they’re orange.” Ghost thinks for a minute, “add them in, she’ll love it.” He smiles. Gaz finds another, a big bright red one. Just like the one that was shriveled up on the bottom of your container that he had removed earlier. “thank god.” He sighs. “I got a real light orange one.” Price says, flicking it off of his thumb into the container. “Great. She’ll love them.” He sighs. Soap is smirking at him when they return to the mess hall. “You really like that girl don’t ya?” Price chuckles. “Uh.. yeah.”
Everyone looks upon him. “What?” He asks. “You don’t have a mask on.” He reaches up, touching his bare cheek. “Jesus Christ,” he groans. Walking off to his room. They’d seen him.
They seen Simon. Searching to please his girl, so that he didn’t have to see her heartbroken. Protecting her. Looking out for her. He returns his mask on. He’s sitting at a table in the mess hall across from Soap when you finally emerge from your room. He’d messed with your alarm clock and turned it off. Placing it back down. “My alarm didn’t go off I guess. How come nobody woke me up?” You ask. “You seemed peaceful. Besides, Simon has a surprise for you.” Price smiles. “Hm?”
“We all found some ladybugs when we went out this morning.” He nods to the terrarium. “Oh my gosh really?” He nods his head. You sit down and lower your head, looking into it. Ghost looks at Price, giving him a nod. The smile on your face as you watch them all climb all over the container brings Simon so much joy, it warms his heart. You were his, completely his at last.
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Take my hand (we'll make it, I swear)
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 3
Prompt: Mutual pining
Rated: G
CW: Steve getting vecna'd; Some violent imagery
Tags: Idiots in love; Fluff and angst
Notes: Based on this beautiful piece of art by @house-of-the-moving-image and that one "Steve gets vecna'd" brainworm I've had forever.
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It's always different in the stories, Eddie thinks. When the heroes in the stories realize they're in love, it always comes as this big revelation. The sunlight will glisten off the fair lady's hair, or her eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky and the hero will suddenly realize that he is in love.
It wasn't like that for him. No dramatic moment, no sudden epiphany. It just sort of … snuck up on him over the past year, and when he noticed, it was too late. He had fallen, completely and irredeemably.
Then again, he is no hero. And Steve is most certainly not a fair lady.
He is still beautiful, of course, lying here in the soft, green grass, hair tousled by the breeze, golden highlights brought out by the setting sun. Eddie's jacket draped over him to fight off the chill.
He's asleep, finally, after what seems like ages, pulled under by the exhaustion of the last few days and that fucking Bon Jovi song blaring from his headphones on an endless repeat loop.
Eddie huffs, twists the daisy he has plucked between his fingers. If he strains his ears, he can just make out the words.
Take my hand, we'll make it, I swear…
Steve's fingers twitch in the grass and Eddie's gaze flies to his face, half expecting to find his eyes wide open and sightless, half expecting him to start floating again and fuck, what will he do, he can't do shit, please, God, he can't-
But Steve’s eyes are closed, his face relaxed. Eddie sighs in relief. Then, following a sudden impulse, he reaches out and tucks the daisy into Steve's hair.
He's no hero and he can't do anything to protect him, but he can make sure he rests while he has the chance, can make sure he has music and beauty and sunlight surrounding him. It's what he deserves.
He deserves so much more.
The harsh snap of the tape ending almost makes him jump out of his skin. Steve flinches awake with an adorable little snort, hand flying up to pull the headphones off. His eyes dart around wildly for a second or two before they land on Eddie and he sags back to the ground.
"Hey," he smiles, voice still sleep-slurred and hoarse. "Sorry, did I doze off?"
The flower is still in his hair.
Eddie snorts, pillows his arms on his knees so that he can hide behind them.
"Are you kiddin' me, dude? You can sleep all you want."
Steve hums vaguely and props himself up on one elbow, busies himself with opening the walkman and turning the tape.
"Feels wrong though," he mutters. "Y’know… just chilling here while the kids-"
"Stevie," Eddie says. Maybe it comes out a bit too harsh, because those pretty eyes blink up at him, confused and a little hurt. He groans.
"The kids are old enough," he then continues, more softly. "They have Wheeler and Buckley with them. Not to mention Supergirl. You don't have to-"
"-babysit them anymore, I know." Steve flops back into the grass, worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "I still feel useless, though."
They stay silent for a while. The wind is getting chillier, now that the sun is dipping behind the trees, and Eddie is starting to shiver in his flannel.
"Thank you, though," Steve mumbles. "For staying around, I appreciate it."
He sounds so small and lost and scared. Eddie plucks another flower so he won't have to look at his face. Hopes that Supergirl will tear Vecna's shrivelled black heart out through his ass and squish it under her shoe like a bug.
"Anything for you, Stevie," he says. Means it.
Steve blinks at him and quickly turns his head, but Eddie imagines he sees the ghost of a smile twitching at his lips.
"Eddie?"
"Hm?"
"I …" Steve watches the blades of grass glide through his fingers. "There's, um … something I've been meaning to tell you, but … I think I'm scared of what you'll say."
Eddie chuckles. "Oh, I already know."
Steve's hand freezes. "You do?"
"Absolutely, man," Eddie nods. "You're not being exactly subtle. There's no way the snack mix comes with that few pretzels, of course you're stuffing them in your face in the kitchen. I mean, be hone- ow!"
Steve has just punched his arm.
"It's not about the pretzels, you asshole," he grins, but then his face goes serious again. "It's… shit, I didn't want to tell you like this, I-"
"Then don't."
Steve's brow crinkles. "But-"
Eddie talks right over him. "You wait until this is over and you tell me when you think the time is right. I'll be there and I'll be waiting. Just like you. We're both gonna be there, okay?"
Steve huffs an exasperated laugh and scrubs a hand down his face, pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he yawns.
"Promise?" His eyes are very bright.
Eddie nods, smiles so wide that his mouth hurts with it.
"Of course. Now go back to sleep, dumbass."
Steve doesn’t protest as he pushes the headphones back over his ears and presses play, just settles back under Eddie's jacket and lets his eyes slip shut. Eddie listens to the opening chords of the song for what must be the thousandth time and wonders if he should take Steve's hand and promise that they'll make it.
Instead, he tucks the second flower into Steve’s hair and prays that it'll be okay.
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All of my holiday drabbles
Part 2
302 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 1 year
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Banana Pudding
Same pairing as Cupcakes.
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GIF by hbothelastofus
Joel Miller/reader One shot - 2.3k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, mentions of blood, violence, gore. Joel is bad at feelings. Protective Joel, pining, kissing. Very brief mention of Joel thinking about sex.  You're late.
“It’s just for the day.” You said this morning as you shifted the backpack around. Joel unzipped the top compartment, packing it tight with replacement first aid supplies. “Just the day, and then I’ll be back. We can play go fish tonight.” The kid, the one you rescued a few months back, had been crying, standing by your front door, making a fuss. When you bent over to wipe his face, the curve of your ass pressed directly into Joel’s hips, and his hand darted out to lay on your side, like you were unsteady or needed comfort. You looked back at him with a wink before you wiped the kid’s nose with your sleeve and said, “Keep an eye on the old geezer for me, okay?” 
You were one hour past due. He wasn’t worried, not yet. It wasn’t unlike you to get distracted by something, veer off onto a different path, go crashing through the woods because you swore you saw a discarded sweater caught in a tree somewhere. One time, you followed a bushwhacked trail to where someone had carved out a little hovel. Didn’t find much, but you did find the electrical tape you’d be looking for. And a half-drunk flask. 
“For you.” You tossed it to him, mischievous smile on your face, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Your favorite. Smells like gasoline.” You teased him, and he had thought about what it would feel like to hold your face between his hands. 
When you went out for the day, he could always count on you being a little late coming back. He wasn’t worried, not yet. You’re alright. You’re fine. 
You were two hours past due. You and Alex, the new guy, hadn’t been spotted on the outskirts of the area either, and worry was starting to burn in his stomach like bad liquor. It was hot as hell today, and he wonders if you brought enough water. John swore he vetted that guy. Swore he could hold his own. Swore he could handle it. Joel fixes his eyes on the horizon, waiting. Watching. 
“C’mon sweetheart. Where are you?”
You were three hours past due. The kid is hovering near him now, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Joel hates this kid. This kid almost got you killed, almost got you infected. He’s also come to realize that the kid really likes you. Follows you around, running away from the group of orphans he’s supposed to stay with to knock on your flimsy front door all hours of the day. You sit with him at dinner, you take walks with him in the morning. He doesn’t like it. He hates how he feels when he sees you walking next to him, his little hand clutched in yours, big wide eyes trying to take in his surroundings. He hates how he feels when he watches you teach the kid how to play go fish at your kitchen table, Joel’s skin sweating under his clothes. He hates how you crouch down in front of him, smile on your face, your voice murmuring to him in low, soothing tones. The kid trusts you. He stares at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
It’s the same way Joel stares at you, and the thought pulls at him. Scratches at the surface of his skin, tugs at the things he’s buried so far down, they’ll never see the light of day. 
“He has a name, you know.” You said one day. Yeah, he knew the kid’s name. Grey. What kind of a name is Grey? 
“I know.” He matched you step for step, whacking through the long grass that’s grown over the interstate.
“Wouldn’t kill ya to use it.” It might. 
“Sweetheart.” You turned, your face all sweet and smiling. “I don’t think you should get too attached to the kid.” The grin faded from your face like the setting sun.  
“Go on home.” Joel tells the kid, and he pouts. 
“But I wanna wait.” The boy whines, and Joel clenches his fist. 
“I said go on.” He points, putting a little more authority behind his voice, and the boy scurries off. You’re alright. You’re fine. 
You were four hours past due. He hates this. Hates this feeling. Hates the idea that you’re out there, with someone he didn’t know watching your back. He’s started packing a backpack, just in case. John tries to talk him down, but he can’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut. Could the new guy handle a Clicker? Could he handle a Bloater? He thinks about last time, only a few weeks ago, when the two of you stumbled upon one during a routine run. 
You heard it first. Your body tensed like a deer in headlights, and then you immediately stepped into a crouch. He followed suit, noticing how you raised your hand behind your back, fingers waggling out in invitation. You wanted him to hold your hand, he realized. You wanted to know he was there. When he reached for you, your fingers stretched outward, feeling for the band of his watch, and his heart sputtered in his chest. 
Bloaters are huge. They were a bitch to kill, their weird scaly skin more like armor, and they’re as strong as ten men. Fortunately, their echolocation was not nearly as good as Clickers, and they were slow as molasses. That didn’t always save everyone though. Last summer, you both watched Kelsey get her jaw pulled apart like a banana peel, her brains splattering on the wall like some overpriced canvas of modern art. He didn’t want to take this one on. He wanted to sneak away, with you, and hole up in the run-down house a few hundred meters up the road. The idea of you getting close enough to a Bloater to lob a Molotov at them made his skin crawl, so he squeezed your fingers twice to get you to turn around, and then he jerked his head in the direction of the shack. You looked at him like he was crazy, glancing down at the bottle already in your hand. He shook his head. A clear no. 
“That Bloater.” You said later, absentmindedly while the two of you passed a cup of whiskey back and forth. “Got me thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“About Kelsey. When her head got peeled like a banana.” You used the same analogy that he did when he thought about it, a symptom of the truth. You two spent entirely way too much time together. 
“Yeah. That was rough.” 
“Yeah… Makes me want banana pudding real bad.” He surprised you by laughing, a deep chuckle that started in his chest, and you looked at him bewildered for a second before laughing too, the sound of your voice sticking to his ribs like sugar. 
You were five hours past due. It was dark now, pitch black, and he was pulling his backpack onto his shoulders. 
“Joel, it’s late. I’m sure they’re just layin’ low somewhere for the night, if you just wait-“ He doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of John’s plea. He can’t leave you out there. You’ve never told him, but he knows you hate the dark. Anytime you get assigned to do something after sunset, he watches your face flicker and change, the sweet, happy nature of your eyes tightening with a sprinkle of fear. 
Once, he was the one who was late. Three hours late to a promise he had made you, a date with Egyptian rat screw. By the time he got back, the sun had well set, and you were standing on the little porch, lantern by your side. You were standing in the dark, waiting for him. The sight of it made his breath catch in his chest. 
“Hey-“ He started to say when he saw you, but you cut him off immediately. 
“Where were you?” your voice had been a higher pitch than normal, off key, like you were afraid. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that was rude. It’s just John said someone got held up and when you didn’t show I started to think maybe you were the one who got held up, but that doesn’t make sense because no one in their right mind would hold you up and-“ He grabbed your flailing hand with his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles, and watched the tension drain from your body, bit by bit. I’m here, baby, he wanted to say. I’m right here. 
“I think I owe you a game.” He said instead. 
He remembers when you got that pack of cards, when you went back inside a building crawling with Clickers, just to pluck them from the pocket of some rotting corpse. He was furious. The feeling of rage in his chest was so strong that he wanted to scream at you, scare you bad enough that you never did anything that stupid again. 
It wasn’t until later in the day that he realized it wasn’t anger at all, but fear.
He doesn’t let anyone else know you have them, because he remembers when Rich found out, that night when you drank just a little bit too much and let it slip. He remembers watching the gears in Rich’s head turn, eyes staring daggers at your bag. He tried to snatch it from you the next day, shoving you on the ground to tear your backpack away from your body. He gave you a black eye, but you rolled over on him with a knife pressed to the vein beating under his jaw. He ran away scared after that. Joel will never forget the disappointed look in your eyes as he scampered off. “That’s what I get for trying to be nice, I guess.” 
Rich was dead two nights later. Everyone assumed it was a Stalker. 
You were five and half hours past due. Joel’s walking out of camp now, flashlight shining on the road ahead. He would find you. You’d be alright. You’d be fine. 
Something snaps in the dark of the trees to the right and he whirls, shining the flashlight in that direction, working it in a pattern across the ground. He hears a cough, and then- 
“Joel?” It’s your voice, your soft, sweet voice saying his name, and when you come closer into the light splattered in blood, he nearly falls to his god damn knees. 
“What happened?” he barks, his tone aggressive and edged in fear. “Where are you hurt? What happened?” He runs his hands over your body, your shoulders, your arms, your waist. He could run you back to camp faster if he carried you, he had a good amount of first aid in this pack, he could certainly staunch the bleeding if it wasn’t an artery, fuck if it was an artery, he didn’t think he had anything, probably could make a tourniquet, what if it’s a bite, what would-
“It’s not… It’s not my blood.” His mind stops racing and he blinks. 
“It’s not your blood.” His hands come up to hold your face, one palm on either cheek. You’re shaking. He’s shaking. 
“Not my blood.” You repeat again, fingers coming to wrap around his wrist, right below his watch. You stroke the spot where his pulse races with your thumb. “I’m alright. I’m fine Joel, I’m just a little-“ He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, he presses his mouth to yours, a fever rising in his own blood when you open for him, soft whimpers slipping from your lips. You taste as good as he’s imagined, and he wants to devour you. His blood is racing beneath his skin, and he wants to bury himself so far inside you that you can’t go anywhere without him again, wants to ruin you and lock you up, so no one can even so much as touch a single hair on your head. He wants to rewind time and kill the fucker who put that scar on your face. He traces a finger down your neck, across your collarbones, and your skin is so soft, so warm, he can’t stop touching it, his fingers moving over every inch of bare flesh available to him until you let out a little moan and it jolts him. He pulls back abruptly. He shouldn’t. He wants to. You blink at him in surprise, and then a smile stretches across your face. “tired.” You finish your sentence, and then without hesitating, you lean your body into his, arms coming around his waist in a hug. He lowers his head until his nose is in your hair, and he’s so relieved, so fucking relieved his brain is having a hard time working. His hands rub your back slowly, slipping behind the backpack, stroking up and down until a thought occurs to him. 
“Whose blood is this?” 
“Oh uh. It’s Alex’s. We ran into some trouble. He didn’t make it out.” You chew on your lip for a second before you speak again. “I had to get back, you know. Wanted to get home. I couldn’t… I couldn’t help him.” Home. You wanted to get home.
“That’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” He cradles your face again, rubbing a thumb across your cheek. You give him a sad smile, and then he brings you into his chest, where his heart is pounding against his ribs, a hand wrapped around the back of your head. 
Your feet drag along as you walk next to him, fingers curled around the inside of his elbow, head leaning against his shoulder. You’re exhausted, covered in blood and who knows what else, but all he can think about is sliding his arm behind your knees and lifting you off the ground. 
“You know what-” You start to say before your sentence is cut off by a yawn, and you press your face into his bicep. “You know what I could really go for?” you mumble into him. 
“What’s that?” 
“I could really go for some banana pudding.” 
559 notes · View notes
slayfics · 9 months
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We're not Just Friends
Series featuring Muichiro, Obanai, and Reader
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Obanai offers you to come to his place.
Warnings: alcohol use | mild Obanai manga spoilers
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Chapter 5
Obanai felt his heart swell at hearing your words. He couldn't help but wrap you in his arms. In a way, he was comforting his own insecurities of not being good enough.
He felt your tears slowly begin to subside and he pulled away. Taking you in he could see how distraught you still were even though your tears had stopped. Surely your inner thoughts are still tormenting you. If anyone could understand what that was like it was Obanai.
"Why don't you come to my place for some food and to calm down a bit? I wouldn't feel right leaving you out here alone like this," he said watching you slowly gather your composure.
"It's fine, I don't want your pity." You spat back.
Your words surprised the Hashria but he didn't give in to his anger this time. Now he understood your anger was misplaced and misguided.
"You're a feisty one, aren't you? Come," He demanded, waving a hand at you to follow.
You stared at him as if ready to challenge his orders.
"You aren't really about to defy the orders of a Hashira are you?" He asked, eyebrows raising.
That would be rather foolish you realized. Especially Obanai, one of the strongest Hashira the corps had.
"Fine," you agreed and followed the Hashira back to his estate.
Once inside Obanai directed you to the common room, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll grab some food," He said and vanished.
You looked around the room, everything was vastly different from Muichiro's estate. The grass outside was dry and dead, the walls had poems that were taped on crooked, and the air had a strange staleness to it.
It wasn't long till Obanai arrived back seeing you still standing in the middle of the room wide-eyed.
"The room won't bite," He said, chuckling, sitting down at the table and setting out food, tea, and sake. Obanai noticed the slightest smile appear on your face finally at his playful words.
"But does he bite?" You said pointing at Kaburamaru.
"Only if you keep defying me," Obanai said gesturing for you to sit.
You hesitantly sat down at the table and grabbed some food. You weren't the least bit hungry after today's events, but you began to force yourself to eat.
"Now tell me what happened? Who are you not worthy of?" Obanai asked questioningly. He watched as his question caused you to sink into yourself.
"I don't want to talk about it," you stated.
"Too bad," He said harshly, causing you to wince. Obanai sighed. "Look I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems. You can talk to me alright," he said.
"It's Tokito," You said, not looking at him nervous to see his reaction.
"Him hu? He is an admirable Hashira."
"He's more than that... he's captivating and his presence is overwhelming. That's exactly why I know I'll never be good enough."
"What makes you so sure of that?" Obanai questioned you.
"He made it clear today that he will never feel the same"
"What did he say?" he asked, and noticed you eyeing the sake on the table.
"Can I open this?" You asked. Obanai shrugged, indicating he didn't care either way. You opened the sake and downed a cup then poured yourself another.
"He said I'll never have respect in the corps... basically. So obviously that means he'd never feel the same." You said, drinking another cup.
"Hmm... I wouldn't be so sure. Tokito doesn't always choose his words carefully."
"I don't know... you weren't there... you didn't feel how it felt... I just know I'll never be enough." You said defeated and poured more sake.
"I understand that feeling," Obanai sympathized.
"What you? No way! You're one of the strongest Hashira's! You have all the respect in the corps. I'm sure anyone would be delighted to have you as a partner." You said dumbfounded at Obanai's statement.
Obanai felt something in his stomach he didn't recognize at your words. It felt as though he was going to be sick, but it didn't feel painful. It almost felt nice.
"Well..." he stumbled momentarily lost for words. "I don't think I deserve her, I've lived a terrible life before being a Hashira. She deserves someone who is pure, not tainted as I am."
"Tainted? What are you talking about Iguro?" You said, finishing another cup of sake.
"My bloodline is ugly, and that’s all there is to say about that," He explained further.
"Ugly?! You're being ridiculous. You're far from ugly."
Obanai felt his cheeks get a little warm, "Uh- well- you haven't seen me so of course that's what you think." Obanai knew if anyone saw his full face they'd never think of him as attractive.
"You're right you haven't eaten or drank anything this whole time... Let me see then take those bandages off." You demanded
"No," Obanai said shortly.
"Then I don't believe you. I'm sure you're hiding the most attractive face under there and you just don't want me to be right."
"What?!" He exclaimed.
"You heard me, I won't believe you until you prove me wrong."
"Fine!" Obanai said ripping his bandages off his face. As soon as he did he felt instant regret hit his stomach. How did he allow himself to be baited by you so easily? There was something about you that felt different.
"What's supposed to be ugly?" You said tilting your head dumbfounded.
"My scars?" He said matter-of-factly.
"Are you serious? That's what you are worried about?" You laughed.
"Yes.. they are reminders of my past and the awful bloodline I was a part of."
"Iguro... your scars show what you have overcome and your strength. Plus scars are hot." You said, then finished another cup of sake.
In just a few short sentences you wrapped up all his self-doubt and threw it away. Brushing off what had pained him for so many years as being no big deal. It was intoxicating to see himself through your eyes. A perspective where he as deserving of all the beautiful things life has to offer. Obanai felt his cheeks get warm again and this time he didn't have his bandages to hide his blush.
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Artwork by the amazing @valartsstuff ~
Tags~
@sakurasunkiss @aeolia18 @unofficialmuilover @demonslayeranimex @yandere-kouhai @snowmist-hashira @jellyedkazoo @sixxze
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162 notes · View notes
munsonmuses · 3 months
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Smudged Reflection
Find Part 1 here
Synopsis: After the events of the party, you and Eddie are stuck between a rock and a hard place. The animosity dying, and reopening old wounds.
Themes: angst, a semi perverted Eddie, the fear of the unknown, strained familial relationships
Warnings: nothing but a glimpse at pervert Eddie and a bit of crying.
Word count: 2.5k
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Your fingers twitched lightly, the sun felt glaringly bright as you covered your eyes, slowly rubbing the sleep and eye crust away as your makeup smeared across the back of your hand. Sighing in light frustration as you sat up, stopping at a weight around your waist. Following the ring clad hand all the way up to a leather wearing arm and shoulder. Eddie Munson’s head lulled back against one of the thick oak branches. Drooling lightly with open mouthed snoring as you sighed softly and carefully worked on removing his arm. Not wanting to wake him as you slowly went to unlace his fingers.
His hand grasped tighter as he yanked you into his chest with a shout, laughing delightedly at your mild terror. Eddie earning himself a smack on the arm as you scoffed loudly to yourself, pushing off with a light sneer.
“Not funny Eddie. You scared me. I thought you were sleeping and I was trying to be nice.” You pouted, earning a patronizingly sweet ‘awwww’ from Eddie who held your face. “Did I scare you that bad sweetheart? Is my vicious little sucubus all terrified?” He teased as you batted his hands away. Light blush dusting your cheeks as you checked your watch. It was well into the day, around noon by now, and there was way too much to do. Your eyes blowing wide as you frantically gathered up your things. “I’ve gotta go pick up Marilyn, sorry Eddie. Thanks for last night though.” You rambled on as you looked for your keys, the memory of handing off your keys to Rhiannon coming too as you held your head in frustration. Having to swallow your pride. “Would you mind driving us…and dropping me off at work?” You questioned softly as you awaited him to bark out laughter in your face.
Turning to look at him, instead you were met with a soft grin as he nodded. “Yeah no problem…plus I haven’t seen Marilyn in a while, besides your asshole move at family video yesterday.” He said with a hum as he watched you climb down, whistling lightly with a grin. “Good morning to me…” he grinned wolfishly as you looked down, your cleavage well on display as you shrieked obscenities at him.
“Edward Munson you pervert! Stop looking at my tits-“ you hissed out as he laughed lightly. “Can’t help it if they’re right there~…is that a tattoo I spy?~” he teased as you got your feet on the ground, adjusting your top as you hummed. “It is a tattoo. And it’s not for you.” You snapped back as he climbed down, joining you on the ground as you both walked to his van. His hand lazily swinging at his side as you hummed lightly to yourself. Carefully keeping in time with his steps as you headed to the glorified empty lot with smattered grass that people started using as a parking spot. Hopping into the passenger seat as you hummed in familiarity. The van was something you’d always felt a sense of safety in, something that was consistent…until it wasn’t. The bitter taste of hate dusting over your tongue as you watched Eddie start up the van, listening to your directions as you head back into town.
“You still like Pat Benatar?” He asked suddenly as you turned to face him, chewing on your nails as you nodded lightly to yourself. Watching as he reached over your lap, his rings grazing your knees as he popped open the glove compartment. Pulling out a few different Pat Benatar tapes, some newer than what you’d remembered having given him. Watching as he popped in Tropico. Drumming along the steering wheel to Diamond Field as you snorted lightly to yourself. Watching him sing along, intentionally doing a poor job as you watched him. Clearly trying to get a reaction out of you until the song fizzled out. We Belong playing in as an awkward tension filled the car.
“You used to really like this song…” he broke the silence as you carefully pursed your lips, wanting the earth to swallow you whole, or even have the van crash and end you and your blooming shame as you hummed. “Yeah I did…I really did. But it was like, years ago Eddie. We were like fourteen.” You murmured as he turned his attention back to the road, gripping the wheel a bit tighter as he clicked his tongue. “Mhm yeah…yeah sorry.” He mumbled as you chose not to respond, ignoring the fact that you’d noticed the shame in his own eyes.
Eddie felt guilty last night, he felt guilty now. How long would it take for the guilt to subside? You couldn’t answer that, that was for Eddie to decide. The song finally fizzling out as you pulled up to the small home where your younger sister was sat outside, her eyes wide with excitement as she ran over. Eddie hopping out to open up the back of the van for her. Carefully taking her bag and setting it under the back of your seat.
“Hey Annie…” he hummed as he carefully helped her in, a nickname based around Marilyn’s red curls and dimpled cheeks. “Did you have a good time?” He questioned as she grinned excitedly to herself. “Had a great time, we watched um…the outsiders, and we had pizza. That was super good. And we went to bed really late which was cool because usually I’ve gotta go to bed kind of early, Josie says so.” She threw her gaze towards you as you rolled your eyes. Recollecting the nickname your family had given you in your youth, based off a cartoon you’d grown up loving, and it had just stuck. “You go to bed early on weeknights because you hate getting up…” you remind gently as Eddie closed the sliding van door and hopped back into the drivers seat. Taking you both home.
The comfortable silence was soon enough broken by Marilyn clearing her throat. “Are you guys friends again?” She asked softly as you and Eddie shared a glance. Eddie wanted you to decide. Were you friends again? Were you okay? Were you both able to move past this?
“I mean…we’re talking again.” You said softly as Marilyn nodded softly. “Well, that’s a start…I missed Eddie.” She said softly as Eddie grinned lightly to himself. “I missed you too Annie.” He assured the sentiment was shared as he pulled into your driveway. Putting the van in park as you thanked him lightly.
“You can come in while I get ready for work…stay downstairs.” You insisted softly as you carefully got out, letting Marilyn head in as you followed. Bounding upstairs as Eddie worked on leaving his shoes by the door. Carefully padding around the lower level as he looked over the walls, staining from formerly hanging frames on the wallpaper, the whole place kind of dim as he chewed on his cheek. It had been a while since he’d been over, but he knew that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He’d remembered hearing music all the time, and how in love your parents were. He’d remembered spending hours here, causing trouble for the two of you and laughing so hard his sides hurt. He’d remembered that things were simpler between the two of you. Before death and drugs, before you started caring what people thought of you both, before needing to be liked and loved by the masses to fill and feed that disgusting beast that lived inside everyone inside this stupid town.
His snooping was interrupted by entering the small sunroom at the back of the house, your mother sat on the small bench as she hummed lightly. Working on her needle point as she grinned lovingly at him. Her face aged by grief, shoulders and cheeks thinned, the exhaustion of labor showing as she smiled at him. “Edward Munson…where have you been?” She asked as she stood carefully, pulling him into a hug as she smiled wider.
Her arms felt boney against his sides, her fingers smoothing over the leather of his jacket as he held her just as close. She’d been the only sense of maternal instinct he’d known in his younger teen years, so this just felt kind of right. “Hey…” he whispered as she stepped back just enough to hold his face. “You’ve grown into a young man…and your hairs so long.” She laughed lightly as she carefully traced his cheek. “You’re not that little scrawny thing that chased my Josie everywhere anymore…” she whispered before sighing lightly as she noticed you in the doorway. A visible animosity between the two of you. Her mourning of losing out with her little girl, and your mourning of what could have been a present mother. The two of you sharing a cordial but stiff greeting.
“Take me to work please Eddie…Sara will be pissed if she has to handle the afternoon rush without me.” You state as he nodded, watch as you wished your mother goodbye with a polite kiss on the cheek as he walked out with you.
“You smell like one of those terrible perfume kiosks exploded on you,” he commented as you rolled your eyes. “Hardy har. I didn’t have the time to shower.” You retorted as you went back to the van, hopping in and waiting for him to get situated with a cigarette and his music. Driving you to the arcade as you lit your own cigarette. Drumming along to Metallica as you grimaced lightly. “Eddie you’re going to make me go deaf!” You shouted, earning a laugh from him as he only cranked it up louder, earning a scoff from you as he whipped into the arcade parking lot, nearly running over Steve who was heading into the connected Family Video, and swinging into a parking spot as you gripped the overhead handle. Holding your chest as he finished up his little personal concert, Creeping Death fading out as you hopped out of the car. “God damnit Eddie-“ you hissed as he shared a wolffish grin. “Can’t help it, besides, I thought a succubus like yourself would value some satanic jams,” he mocked as you gathered up your purse and stormed inside.
The smell of sugary soda and the feeling of well worn carpet under your sneakers gave you fuel to add to your forming metal related headache, holding your tempers as you walked behind the prize counter. Meeting with your coworker Sara, a girl who would’ve been in your graduating class if you hadn’t been in your special situation.
“You’re late~” she crooned as she snapped her gum carefully, looking you over as she laughed lightly. “You look a mess, did you fall asleep at that party that those idiot officers broke up by the lake?” She asked as you just gave a curt nod. “How’d you know about that?” You asked as she shrugged. “Steve told me, he heard from Robin, and Robin heard from Grant who was there with Eddie.” She said as you sighed lightly. “Speaking of Steve? How’re you two doing? Going steady?” You asked as she laughed lightly to herself.
“Going steady? What are we, forty?” She teased as you elbowed her lightly. “But if you must know, yes we’re exclusive. He asked me to be his girlfriend last night at Enzo’s. It was super romantic, you wouldn’t believe it.” She swooned, earning an eye roll and gag from you. “Whatever…” you murmured, working on restocking the semi stale candy in the prize counters smudged glass case. Crouching down to fill everything before looking up to see someone staring at you through the glass. Shrieking loudly as you fell back, the owner of your scare standing up. Dustin Henderson’s laughter earning a swift flip of the bird as you managed to stand. Leaning on the counter as you looked him over.
“Whaddya want Henderson…?” You questioned as he hummed lightly. “Just kinda wanted to say hey…since you’re both dating my fearless mentors,” he said as Sara rolled her eyes, though you just quirked a brow. “I’m not dating Munson…” you murmured as you carefully reached into the counter and handed Dustin a packet of sugar babies, which he gladly worked on eating. “Sure you are,” he muttered through a mouthful of sticky caramel. “He talks aboutcha a bunch…and he drove you to work. Steve does that for Sara.” He said as you scoffed. “Steve talks about me a lot?” Sara questioned as you dismissed her excitement. “What do you mean Eddie talks about me?” You pressed as Dustin rolled his eyes, as if it were meant to be obvious.
“He calls you a succubus, which is like a female lust demon. He also made a character around you in our most recent one off campaign. You were the big bad’s wife and like…a boss to beat.” He said simply as you hummed. “Awesome…I’m a demon, and I’m dead.” You retorted as he shrugged. “It’s romantic.” Sara insisted as Dustin wandered off. Leaving the two of you to work through your shift. The day menial and slow, with a few claw machine complaints and a bit of trouble getting some shithead kids to leave. Working on locking up as you worked off your clingy vest.
Sara took you by the hand as she hummed along to Fleetwood Mac that was playing on the speakers outside of Family Video, locking up and leading you both into your sister store. Robin and Steve playing some paper basketball as you hummed contentedly to yourself. Greeting the two as Sara and Steve wandered off to the back room. Leaving you and Robin at the desk as she carefully worked on pulling out a tape.
“Uhhh, Eddie came in here? Asked me to hold this for you and you’d know what it means?” She whispered as you quirked a brow, taking the tape Robin handed you. “It’s the only copy we have, but it was in the back…so you don’t really have to bring it back.” She assured as you looked it over. 1979’s The Black Stallion, a massive lump filling your throat as you hummed.
Memories of your first “date” with Eddie were fresh in the front of your mind. The both of you the crisp age of thirteen, heading to the small movie theatre and sharing a small popcorn you’d paid for with your allowances. Eddie taking you to see The Black Stallion, and comforting you as you cried as most small girls do at sweet animal movies. Walking you home and giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek goodbye.
You held the tape close as you wiped your teary eyes. Heading to the back to their little tv, interrupting Steve and Sara’s heavy petting as you popped the tape into the VHS. Sitting back on the couch as Steve and Sara made room for you to sit, Robin locking up and joining you all as the movie played in. The whole thing seemingly boring to the group, but meaning so much to you. Tears flowing freely as the credits rolled in. Sara trying to comfort you as you grabbed the stores landline. Dialing in a familiar number and listening to it ring.
“Yellow?” The voice on the other end called, softening as it heard your sniffling and hiccuping. “Hey…you okay?”
“Eddie…” you whispered shakily. “Can you come get me? I wanna talk…” you whispered.
“Yeah…yeah always, I’ll be right there.”
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larcenywrites · 2 months
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kinda random but headcanons about young!tony telling maria stark all about his girlfriend (maybe she was his best friend/childhood friend and then they fell in love and maria always teased them about how they'd make a cute couple) and maria teasing him about being a lovesick puppy but also being super happy about it + relationship advice from mama stark 🤧🥰 maybe her telling tony what she thinks of his girlfriend and everything 🥺👉👈
Tbh I like the idea of Tony and his s/o being cute childhood friends🥺 and this is already long but I feel like I have so much more I wanna say 😭 I hardly know what I said here honestly 😭 I focused a lot more on the childhood aspect ngl 😭
Word count: 1,909
Warnings: she/her terms and pronouns used | completely SFW |
💠You and Tony have been connected at the hip since childhood! Neighbors, both the only children in your families, same age— so of course you both got up to no good in the shared strip of grass between your homes! And eventually up to no good in each other's homes! 
💠Cue that video of that kid crying because the other kid said that she'd marry him 😂 That's pretty much little you and little Tony! Your Superman and Barbie were always married to his Batman and He-Man toys, and maybe you made him be the housewife when you played house in the kitchen 😌 And Maria was probably much more entertained with whatever love-betrayal-murder plot you two came up with on the living room floor than the daytime soaps on the tv 🤧
💠Especially if Maria is best friends with your parent/s, I'm sure she was the type to giggle about how their kids will grow up and get married 
💠He was ripping apart RC cars instead of playing with them in the driveway, or making you hold wires in place while he duct-taped them around a pipe. And Howard wasn't very happy when he started tearing television remotes apart, too… 
💠So when daddy dearest shipped him off to boarding school, summers and holidays were practically spent entirely together!
💠He always hid in your backyard when he was sent home early from boarding school for being difficult, and was oh-so-boastful about winning the fight that got him sent home early- that he didn't even start, by the way! He started hiding in your room on the days he had to go back, but he wasn't going to let you get in trouble for hiding him when now your parents were involved in the search too 😖
💠Every year, the same routine. Sometimes he came back a little taller, and sometimes he was leaving with a new haircut (of which you weren't afraid to let him know your opinion of it!) that would be grown back out by the time he returned, but one day, in particular, was different...
💠 He'd shown up at your window as per usual, right at the end of summer, finally tall enough to cross his arms over your windowsill without standing on his toes. 
💠 "I don't wanna go," he whined, squishing his cheek against his arm as he rested his head upon his crossed arms. 
💠"But you'll get in trouble," you argued back, meeting him at the window and standing on your knees, still looking down at him. 
💠"I'll get in trouble either way." He continued to pout, but you didn't let up either. 
💠"It's just one more year." But your plea was only met with a sigh.
💠"Here," you started decisively, tone making him turn towards you, still with his chin tucked over his arms. With a short bout of courage, you quickly leaned down before he could even realize, barely touching your lips to his in a child's-excuse-of-a-kiss that hardly lasted a second. "I'll wait for you to get back, okay?" You chirped reassuringly, fighting the heat under your cheeks.
💠Wide-eyed and red-faced, no longer slumped over crossed arms and tight-lipped, he could only nod cartoonishly. 
💠 You'd always thought he looked silly and a bit scrawny in his school uniform, but now he looked quite cute in those silly green shorts as he was finally heeding Jarvis' call from the car. 
💠Both fortunately and unfortunately, nothing special happened or changed once he came home, but as time passes, it's only natural for the two of you to get shy at close contact or steal glances during a round of Galaga or Mario, and maybe sitting a bit close for the thrill!
💠And Maria obviously notices! She doesn't play on the NES herself, but she enjoys watching! Or maybe just enjoys watching you guys 🤭
💠And later that night at dinner, she's definitely teasing Tony about how cute you two are, but even Howard comes to the poor blushing boy's rescue 😖
💠Remember that Tony went to college real early at 16, probably much to your secret bitterness and dismay 😒 but the worst was that, once again, he only came home on summers and winters and holidays 😔 where you got to hear all about his new friend and maybe felt a bit jealous 😔
💠But at least with his more formal education (and more trust from his dad), he was no longer so anarchic with his little science experiments! Sure, he'd always made little robots and been able to put anything back together with only minor issues, but now you were seeing him in a section of the paper with much larger robots and maybe feeling a bit silly now about holding the flashlight for him while he tore apart your family's backup generator 😅 
💠And maybe you leaned in a little too close on purpose when he was sketching out his blueprints to bring to class after spring break... hey, they are actually really good! 
💠Eventually those RC cars became real cars, and eventually he asked you out… with some help from his mom, of course. 
💠"Tony, when are you going to man up and ask (Y/N) out?" Maria asks one day.
💠"Huh?" He's genuinely confused and taken aback, looking over at his mom with furrowed brows.
💠"You heard me." 
💠"I don't think it's like that," he replies meekly, already blushing. 
💠"Didn't you say she kissed you?"
💠"Yeah, when we were like fourteen…"��
💠"And it doesn't seem anyone else is willing to hang out with you every day..."
💠"Should I be offended by that?" 
💠"You should be inspired."
💠Tony rolls his eyes a little, but it is already something he's thought about. Of course he's thought about it! And honestly, you've probably dropped some very frustratingly obvious hints 😖 and Tony isn't stupid. You know this, he knows this. Well, maybe he's a little more inept when it comes to social cues, but still! 
💠Maria has known you for nearly you're whole life, and she already adores you, so don't worry, she also talks all about how lovely you seem and how Tony should go for it! She's on your side! As soon as you leave, she'll have something to say!
💠And the longer Tony puts it off, the more she'll just downright be like, "Y/N was flirting with you, dummy!!!!" or "You guys are very cute 🥰"
💠Tony is frustrated not because he disagrees, but because he really doesn't know what to do and doesn't wanna look stupid :( Because, let's be honest, in this circumstance, he has 0 experience 🤧
💠After awkwardly trying and failing to ask you out in his garage one night, after fumbling to grab every tool and getting hit by the car's hood he didn't properly secure, and then became even more flustered after you grabbed onto his shoulders and head and asked if he was okay, he decided to begrudgingly ask his mom for help 😖
💠And gets even more embarrassed when she excitedly agrees 😓
💠"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just help me out here," he whines in a regional New York accent that he's probably mostly shed by now with his college career. 
💠And only many months later will Maria tell you about his red cheeks and scrunched nose as he asked 🤭
💠But!!! What she's saying... he already failed at a few days ago :( He tried asking you on a date during a casual hangout :( but he was already not doing himself many favors so he gave up and just let you go home with nothing more than a meek "see ya 🙂" 
💠His mom makes him feel a little better about it, especially when she says that you probably thought it was cute😊😊 and probably knew what was up anyway! But, uh, maybe still make sure you don't do that next time... have more confidence!
💠So... the next time you're both hanging out in his garage... he's probably puffing out his chest and flexing a bit 🤭 but when you do look, it does help his confidence! And that's the point! 
💠This time when you go to leave, he's still a bit flustered and stumbling through a few words, but he does manage to get out a "so, um... I was thinking maybe we should go somewhere... nicer? Next time? Maybe Friday?"
💠He becomes a bit squeaky at the end there, but it only helps him look cuter! Of course, you've been waiting on this for years, probably, so you can confidently smile back at him and tell him you'd love that- maybe even tell him that you have been waiting for him to ask!
💠Bonus points if you give him a little cheek kiss before you head home, kinda reminiscent of your silly little childhood kiss 🥰 And yes, Tony never forgot it 😘
💠Your confidence (and his lack thereof) definitely throws him off! But don't let his stiff demeanor fool you! He's very happy! And can't hide his grin when he head into his own house... which his mom instantly picks up on and may have been watching through the window 🤭
💠And might tease him about that little kiss 😘
💠But now... he has to actually plan the date 😨
💠First dates are always awkward (especially with your childhood friend!), but with some pretty flowers and surprisingly confident handholding, it goes well! 
💠Bonus points for another cheek kiss before you head inside your house after he drops you off 😘 
💠Either way, now he's hooked! 
💠Now, when you lean over the edge of the car to look under the hood and huddle close to him, he can't help but smile all giddy and sneak a kiss 🥺 because now he's allowed to and now he's super cute 😭
💠He used to always keep it to himself, but now when he calls his mom every week from school like usual, he can't help but complain about being bored without you 🥺 only for Rhodey to scoff offendedly behind him loud enough for Maria to hear 😭 
💠And you know Rhodey got an earful when Tony returned from Summer break talking about his new girlfriend 😘
💠And you also know that when Tony calls you from school, Rhodes is waiting not only to make his own calls, but 7 out of 10 times waiting to make kissy noises and aws every time Tony says he misses you or anything along those lines 🥰 The other times, Rhodey does give you guys some peace and quiet, but sometimes him being there for the call is fun too! 
💠But even when he is home, and even if you were just over yesterday or earlier that day, Maria can tell he's bummed ☹️
💠But honestly it does kinda make her happy! Her son is in love!! But she can't help but tease him about being all lovesick 🥰🥰 There's probably a picture somewhere of him pouting at the breakfast table, but he'll brush it off as him being tired 😤
💠The two of them being close is, believe it or not, a good thing for you! Sure, Maria is protective of her son, but she's also protective of you! Moreso when it comes to your relationship with Tony! 
💠If Tony comes to confide in her about an argument, whether or not he's in the wrong, she's telling him how to fix it 🤧 and sending him with flowers 💐
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spiderrrling · 1 year
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Question. How would lovesick!Eddie propose?
Aaaaa this is slightly messy but I got some inspo for whatever this is so enjoy (also this is written so late but it had to be done and it's so long for being a blurb)
Eddie had been proposing to you since the day he met you. Sometimes you could tell he was joking, but other times you struggled to see past his soft due brown eyes and actually understand what was going on beneath the continuous mess of soft curls. To him it didn’t matter that you were young, immature, still in high school, to him all that matters is you.
Here are the times Eddie mentioned marrying you vs the one time he really did ask
The first time…
The sickly sweet Hawkins summer air was clinging to your skin, getting tangled up in your hair, seeping into your bones until there was no worry left in your mind. Your limbs tangled with Eddie’s as you lay in the back of his van, the doors thrown wide open letting in the summer air. Outside the grass was risking turning gray from the relentless heat and lack of rain, luckily on days like this escaping to the lake seemed so easy.
You hadn’t been dating Eddie long, a few weeks at most, not enough time for the honeymoon phase to have passed, still in the time where you find yourself lost in his being during the long summer days you spent together.
But you were othing compared to him, he was head over heels. Eddie was convinced he had been in love with you since the moment you first locked eyes with him in the hallways of Hawkins High. Ever since then he had been completely gone, there was no one but you.
“You’re so beautiful” he laughs into your mouth between shared lazy kisses you exchange, “it’s crazy” another kiss lands on your lips, “no one should be allowed to be this beautiful.”
His words make you laugh, and Eddie believes it is the sweetest sound he has ever heard, if he could put it on a cassette tape and cherish it forever he would.
“You’re ridiculous” you place a kiss along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble that was growing along the bottom of his face, taking a second to breathe him in.
“And you love it” he pulls away enough to be able to look at you, nudging at your nose with his, what for he wasn’t really sure he just craved being close to you.
“I do,” while not traditional, Eddie had told you that he loved you only seconds after your first shared kiss, and you had returned the words too him. You lean back, closing your eyes and rolling over on your back, your hands folded across your stomach as you let your eyes slide shut.
“I’m gonna marry you one day,” Eddie didn’t know where the words came from, they simply spilled out of him before he could stop himself. His eyes so transfixed on you, watching the soft sun beams adorning your face, catching on your lips, being caught in your hair. If you had asked him, the two of you might as well have been the only two people on the plannet for all that matters.
“What makes you say that?” once again his words make you laugh, but mostly in shock this time. You let your eyes stay shut as you respond to him, almost a little scared to look at him and face the expression he is probably wearing.
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been thought about it, even though it was early the thought had managed to snake it’s way into your head, and while you knew you were looking at the world through rose tinted glasses, you wanted a normal with Eddie.
Dinners after work shifts, doing dishes next to each other, falling asleep on the couch watching re runs of Miami vice. You wanted all of it.
“Not now- but I will, I just know it” he laughs again, laying down next to you and reaching for your hand, “but don’t you worry your pretty little head about it”
The second time…
Summer had rolled into the fall, the relentlessly hot days had rolled over into the mild days of the early fall as school started over again. You felt like you could breathe properly again, yet you longed for the days of summer spent tangled with Eddie for days on end.
It wasn’t meant to be serious, just as a small joke, just a tiny piece of paper he passed to you during class.
A hurried doodle of a little diamond ring with a question mark next to it. There were no words but the note still said a million things to you.
Turning around you managed to catch a glimpse of his ear to ear grin, which you met only with a slight eye roll and a quiet laugh, hoping no one around you noticing what was going on.
“So what was that,” you prompt him as you find his hand, linking your fingers while the two of you make your way out of study hall.
“What was what?” the same grin was back on Eddie’s face, the kind that made his cheeks hurt after a while and wrinkles form around the corners of his eyes, the kind of smile you normally would never see at school.
“I already told you, I’m marrying you one day, just had to remind you,”
“Just know that when you ask, I’ll say yes,”
The third time…
The heavy rain of the late fall was pouring outside, hammering against the thin metal sheets that made up the Munson trailer, the echo it created almost overwhelming but there was something about it you had fallen in love with.
Curled up in bed next to Eddie, one of his old shirts pulled up over your head as your fingers played invisible games with ech other. You were hidden away from the rest of the world, noting bad could happen here, nothing could reach you when you were tucked away like this. Whispers exchanged between you even though you knew you were alone.
You started fidgeting with his rings, letting your fingertips run across the cold metal before lacing your fingers with his, bringing his hand up to your line of sight to look at them closely. The three large fake silver bands adorned his right hand, you knew they were just three of the many rings he had collected over the years.
But the ring on his left hand was different, it was the only one he wore consistently, if he could help it he would never ever take it off. Your other hand finds his in the dead quiet of the loud echo, the lonely band slid on his ring finger.
“You like that one?” Eddie whispers to you as he notices you’re looking at the band, a simple woven metal band.
“You always wear this one,” your words come out more as a question than a statement, but to be honest you honestly werent sure which one you meant it as.
“C’mere,” Eddie untangled your fingers, but never letting your hands go as he slides the ring off his finger, the metal band cold and heavy between his fingers as he holds it up for you, letting you see it before he slowly slides it onto your ring finger. “There, much better”
“What’s that for?”
“You know exactly what that’s for,”
“I’m not saying yes, not yet”
“You don’t have to, it’s just a promise that i’ll ask you properly one day,”
There were about a hundred more times before Eddie would ask you for real, asking you to marry him over the most trivial tasks
“Baby can you pass me the remote,”
“Only if you marry me,” he’d jokingly say with big eyes before laughing and doing what you asked him to do, but you knew that one day it would come for real
But what Eddie didn’t expect was how he would actually end up proposing to you, he had it planned out, the whole nine yards planned down to the last detail. He bought flowers, made dinner reservations, and he bought the perfect ring.
He had been head over heels for you since the day he first met you, and if it was his choice he would have married you on the spot because he just knew. That’s all it took was seeing you, and he knew you were the one he was supposed to meet.
Eddie never believed in fate or soulmates before he met you, he had no reason to, his cynical cold world view melted the day he first heard your laugh, and after that he was a total gonner. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.
But while you drew out the romantic side of him, the soft side that longed for kisses, and closeness to you, he was still the same impatient person.
All it took was seeing you sitting on the couch in the trailer, your feet pulled up beneath you, one of Eddie’s fantasy books cracked open on your lap, the spine was wide as your forearm as you slowly tried to make your way through the newest book from Eddie’s library. That’s all it took for him, he was in love with you, every part of your being he adored.
“Will you marry me?” as they often do when he is around you, the words leave his mouth before he can stop himself, but maybe he didn’t actually want to this time. Eddie moves to sit on the floor in front of you, pushing the coffee table out of the way as he looks up at you. “I’m asking now, for real.” The small black box in his pocket felt like it was burning a hole through his skin.
Before he can react you jump into his embrace, grabbing your arms around his neck and laughing as he struggles to keep you both sitting upright before giving up and letting you both fall to the floor laughing between shared kisses.
“Ask me again please,”
“Will you,” he looks at you and pauses for a moment, fishing the box out of his pocket, laughing as he struggles to open it and show you, “marry me?” Eddie finishes off as he finally manages to open the box, presenting the little ring to you.
“Do you remember what I told you?”
“I do,”
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masivechaos · 1 year
Text
I GOT SOMETHING FOR YOU TOO
eddie munson x fem! reader
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Request: yes / no
Synopsis: Because of your previous relationships, you feel like your love scares people. Because you love too much. But Eddie is there to prove you wrong.
Warning/content: fluff, kissing, maybe a little sex allusion, crying, my English & very quick proofreading
a.n.: 1.4k words - first real eddie fic yayy. this is really a comfort fic, like the first time Y/n is 100% me (not physically! there's no description :) ) so be kind, i really wrote it for myself first, it might be bad
masterlist/ stranger things masterlist / navigation / taglist 
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.───・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.──
Eddie took a deep breath, clutching the flowers closer to his chest. It was your three-month anniversary, and he knew it was silly but he wanted you to have the best night ever. Because you were his favourite girl, because his favourite moments were by your side, because he wanted you forever.
Since your parents weren’t home, you decided to invite him to stay for the night. So right now he was stressed, waiting in front of your door, not daring to enter yet, his mind was full of too many possibilities of what could happen tonight.
He shook his head before bringing his hand to the bell, ringing it once. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he heard the sound of your keys in the lock. The door opened, there you were, looking prettier than ever. 
Eddie couldn’t stop a quiet ‘woah’ to cross his lips. “Hi, sweetheart” he grinned, holding out the flowers.
You instantly beamed “Eddie!” you said as you took the bouquet. It was messy and homemade. He chose flowers from a shop but you were sure some were picked by his own hands from the grass. He had wrapped parchment paper around the flowers with a ribbon around it, you could see some pieces of tape. It was authentic and you loved it.
You placed it down on the old chest your family decided to use as shoe storage before wrapping your arms around Eddie’s torso, mumbling “thank you” against the fabric of his t-shirt.
Quickly, he hugged you back, pressing a kiss to your forehead “Happy three-month anniversary to us.” You could hear his smile as he spoke and it made your own lips tug up.
You pulled away, looking up at him. You cradled his cheek with your hand, pulling him into a kiss. He didn’t wait before kissing you back, holding you by the waist.
It’s when you felt Eddie shiver that you realised the front door was still open. You broke your embrace and heard Eddie letting out a whine “A minute” you chuckled, pushing the door closed.
When you turned back around, Eddie was exploring your empty living room. He came to your house before this, but weirdly it was the first time your parents weren’t home and you 
didn’t have to worry about when they would come back.
A little awkwardly, he sat down on the couch and you took a seat next to him. Eddie was staring at you, almost in awe. “I have a present for you.” you picked up a box from the coffee table and handed it to him.
His cheeks turned red “You didn’t have to…” He opened the lid and his mouth fell agape. “How do you…” he lost his words. He lifted his gaze, looking at you with wide eyes “Sweetheart… it’s too expensive!”
You bit your lip, happy he seemed to like your present even if he had a weird way of showing it “I wanted to! You talked about it for so long!” 
Eddie couldn’t believe you just bought him his dream guitar effects pedal. He spent hours and hours ranting to you about how amazing his guitar will sound with it and how many incredible things he could do with it. But it was way too expensive for him and accepted the fact he will only see it in his imagination. But he was holding it right now. And it was his. 
“You’re crazy!” Eddie said with an enormous grin. Carefully, he set it down next to him before pulling you into him, holding you tightly.
 “I- I got some things for you too,” he said, pulling away before picking up a bag from the floor. A few minutes ago he was holding it with the hand that wasn’t keeping the flower bouquet but dropped it when both of your lips touched.
“You do?” your smile was wide, not expecting something else than the flowers. The bouquet was enough for you obviously, but you couldn’t say you weren’t happy to know he thought about gifts.
In your previous relationships, you felt like you were the only one doing an effort. You were the one planning dates and they were the ones coming late. It was your birthday but all you got was an ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to buy you something. But soon, don’t worry!’. You never got your presents. It was their birthday and you were spending hours and hours finding little gifts, writing letters, crafting whatever you could craft. And you thought it was going to make them happy but it was like they were scared.
Because you were too much.
Laughing too much. Talking too much. Giving too much. Loving too much.
But with Eddie, it was different. He didn’t mind listening to you talking for hours and he even found himself rambling even more than you did.
“I don’t have a lot of money so you will probably find everything silly,” he talked fast, a little embarrassed “but I wanted to give you some gifts.”
Curious, you opened the box. You found there miscellaneous items. First, you pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it “Eddie-” it was a letter, listing all the things he loved about you. You picked up another piece of paper and read it, it was a love letter telling how he fell for you the first time he saw you and how he felt about you before you were dating. You already knew everything because he told you before but you couldn’t express how loved you felt at the moment.
Under Eddie’s stare, your eyes landed on an envelope. You opened it and felt tears stinging the back of your eyes. There were three polaroids of both of you, one for each month you’ve been together along with small notes you wrote to each other during math class. He always kept everything.
“Eddie…” you whispered. When looked up at him, you immediately broke down into tears “Thank you,” you sobbed, letting your head fall against his chest.
He immediately hugged you, not even thinking about letting you go. He knew how you felt about receiving gifts. The time he bought you a rose to give you after school, he saw how happy you were just by the simple gesture. In the beginning, he didn’t understand, it felt so normal for him to do everything he could for you, and then he heard about your exes.
From this day, he decided to drown you in a sea of presents every time he could, and today was the best occasion. He knew some people find it stupid to give so much to such a recent relationship but it’s not like he cared about what they thought.
After a few minutes, you pulled away, finding the strength to face him again “Actually…,” you wiped a tear away from your cheek “I have more things for you…”
“What-” Eddie didn’t have time to finish his sentence that you got up and rushed to your room. When you came back, you were holding a box with severals inscriptions on it that you handed it to him.
“I didn’t dare giving it to you because I thought it will scare you– not that it’s you the problem, it’s just that in the past when I gave something like this it looked like I did something wrong– I mean, of course it’s maybe weird to expect they wanted something serious serious when we are literally in highsch-” 
You were cut of by Eddie’s soft voice, he had just opened the box “I love it,” he was beaming like a child unboxing his birthday presents.
“Y-you do?”
“Oh yeah,” he said with a grin. He paid attention to everything you gave him; the photographs, the little notes, the guitar pick you had a concert, the random postal cards that reminded you of him,...
Eddie was looking at you like you were his entire world. He honestly didn’t know how someone as incredible as you could love him. He couldn’t express how much you matter to him with words so he could only grab you by the waist, pull you into him and kiss you.
“God. I think I’m in love with you”
“Think?”
“No. I know I’m in love with you”
Eddie made you feel like you were the only person on Earth, like you were all he cared about. For the first time, you felt like someone’s first choice.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.───・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.──
⋆ ★ eddie munson taglist: @sw34terw34ther @cauliflowertree @moonlitmeeks @rhydianissuperior @loveeharrington @mad-elia @jackys-stuff-blog @f4iry-blush @venussflytraps @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @moondemon123 @kidcuisinesvcks @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @vancitycharlie @oncasette @locke-writes @maddipoof
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naughtystiel · 10 months
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Golden light bathed their surroundings, vivid green leaves of a tree that they were sitting on looked like tiny pieces of stained glass against the sun. On the other side of the tree, on a thick branch was Dean, his eyes sparkling with joy when he glanced at Castiel. Small shadows danced on his features like a kaleidoscope, so mesmerising it was hard to look away.
Castiel’s fingers fumbled with the hem of a tee that he once had stolen from his best friend, so long ago the material started to wear thin in some spots. It was battered, but it was his favourite piece of clothing he owned. As he chewed on his bottom lip, pleasant breeze tousled his dark curls that gained a few lighter strands from the time spent out in the summer sun. The wind carried Dean’s quiet humming, one of songs that they used to listen to on an old walkman. Sometimes they sat on a hill and stared at the night sky, sharing a set of earphones, accompanied by music from a mix tape they had created together.
The branch creaked underneath him as he shuffled in his spot, trying to change his position. His best friend gave him a curious look, his face pressed against dark bark as he wrapped his arms around the tree, “What are you doing?”
Clumsily, Castiel hung his legs over and swung back, his arms now swaying slightly, the tips of his fingers brushing long grass underneath him. In result, the gravity pulled his tee down, covering the blush that spread over his cheeks, “Hanging.” He mumbled and Dean barked out a laugh, “Yeah, I can see that now. Don’t stay upside down too long or all the blood will rush to your head.”
Suddenly, Dean jumped off the tree and walked up to Castiel. A brush of fingers on his torso made Castiel shiver, but all Dean did was lift the tee up to expose his friend’s face, and grinned, “It’s already working, buddy. Your face matches the shade of fuschias in my mom’s garden.”
In lack of any good comeback, Castiel stuck out his tongue like a child and tried to swing himself enough to be able to reach the branch again. His fingers slipped on the crumbly bark before he could get a good grip, but instead of the hard landing that he embraced himself for, was met with a pair of strong arms. For a second, relieved about being saved from possible bruises or fractures, he laughed. Then, it occurred to him that he was, in fact, still upside down and his rear end was shoved right in Dean’s face. Squirming in the tight grip, he tried to wiggle his way out, but instead made his friend lose balance and they tumbled down to the ground. Once more, embarrassed, Castiel crawled away from Dean who was laughing so much his whole body was shaking, “Are you okay?”
Dean nodded and swatted a blade of grass away that kept tickling his nose before pushing his hair back, “Yup, all good. Let’s go!” Before Castiel knew it, his legs were carrying him after Dean, who held his wrist while running towards bikes that they had left nearby. As they cycled on a path that divided two endless fields, wildflowers scattered all over them, they tried to let go of the handlebars, spreading their arms wide open. Any negative thoughts fled from Castiel’s head and got replaced with the carefree feeling, with pure joy of just existing in the moment. Sweet scent of flowers followed them and Castiel took a few deep breaths that filled his lungs with the smell of contentment. The feeling travelled through his whole body, seeping through his bones right to the core. In this moment, nothing else mattered.
An uneven sandy patch made his front wheel swivel and without his palms on the handlebars, the bike turned right into the tall grass that cushioned his fall. Before he could get up, Dean’s hand was already waiting for him, reaching out to be grabbed. So, with a grateful smile, Castiel accepted and got pulled up, “Dude, you gotta stop falling.” His friend teased, but Castiel’s heart quickened its pace. Combined with the previous rush of adrenaline, it was basically hammering against his chest.
“I can’t.” he blurted out, but before Dean could question him about his strange answer he grabbed the bike and jumped on, pedalling as fast as he could, “We’re racing to the lake!” he called out behind his shoulder, a mischievous smile on his face.
“You’re cheating! Stop distracting me then!” Dean yelled back, quickly mounting his own cranky bike. It was hard not to laugh around him and it was one of the reasons why Castiel was glad that he could call Dean his best friend. In fact, his only friend, but spending time with Dean made him feel like he wasn’t lacking anything and judging by how Dean acted around him, he felt exactly the same. Some would say that they acted like kids, and perhaps they were, a pair of kids with scraped knees trapped in bodies of people who had already lived for over twenty five years. Selfishly, he hoped that it would stay like this for many more years to come.
The path they followed turned right, but there was a shortcut through a field with short green grass that Castiel decided to take. Soon, he let the gravity do its thing and the bike accelerated on its own, speeding down a hill. A sound, close to a howl of joy, erupted from his chest when he lifted his legs up, tightly holding onto the handlebars, so he wouldn’t fall.
Again.
Dean’s own laughter could be heard just behind him, so Castiel knew his friend was catching up with him. All too soon, the lake appeared in front of him and when he pulled onto the brakes, they didn’t work. Panicked, he tried to stop the bike, repeatedly pulling onto the brakes, but it did nothing against the speed he had gained cycling down the hill. Then, accepting his fate, he held tight and let himself go down with his ship. At first, the cold water was like a shock to his body that was warm from being exposed to the sun, but soon enough it became pleasant. His head resurfaced from beneath the lake, his wet curls sticking to his forehead. Heavy drops of water dripped down his face and eyelashes, making his vision slightly blurry. To his surprise, he found himself not being injured, apart from a small scrape to his elbow.
“What the hell happened?” Dean laughed, jumping right onto Castiel that was attempting to fish his bike out of the lake. When he managed to push Dean off, uncontrollable laughter echoing around them, Castiel swung his arms so they made contact with the surface, and splashed his best friend right in the face. After a short splashing war, they were both breathless, with huge grins on their faces, “Peace?” Castiel panted, reaching his hand out to Dean, who nodded and shook it. Together, they got the bike out to the small wild beach and rested it next to Dean’s. Once that was done, they took off their tees, leaving only shorts on, and hung them on a bush to dry.
The sky started to turn dark blue with a layer of orange hues dividing it from the trees on the horizon. The atmosphere shifted alongside with the changes in their surroundings, from energised to more sedated.
Castiel had known Dean for so long, that they were able to communicate without the need to use words. With a small nod, they started gathering twigs and small branches that later got placed in a pile on the sand. Back in the water, they found some bigger stones and used them to surround the wood. Dean reached into his pocket, the wet shorts still clinging to his body, and pulled out a lighter, “Here goes nothing.”
At first, there was no flame, but after shaking it a few times an orangey glow appeared. Their gaze locked and Castiel wondered if his eyes were mirroring the happiness that he could see in Dean’s. Using some dry leaves, they set the bonfire aflame and sat down, their legs crossed. The gap between them was small, but immediately Dean scooted even closer, so their knees brushed.
The warm glow danced on their features and the cracking sound of wood slowly being burned by the fire created a comfortable bubble that they occupied. They sat there, enjoying the private smiles and glances in between songs that they sang, warmth spreading within Castiel that wasn’t caused by the bonfire in front of them. With Dean, he felt content, whole. There wasn’t anything that he would change about their friendship.
Perhaps, apart from one.
His fingers itched to entwine with Dean’s, he wanted to rest his head on his friend’s chest and listen to the steady and comforting heartbeat. Finding out what Dean’s lips tasted of was a mystery that he wanted to solve, so so badly. But he restrained himself, for years.
The songs died out as time passed, the sky darkening with every minute until stars started to appear and lazily blink over their heads. Castiel got up, wiping off any sand that stuck to his shorts, and checked on their tees that were now dry. When he turned to pass Dean his, his friend was right in front of him, an unreadable expression on his face. Something shifted in Castiel’s stomach, concern and worry replacing the carefree feeling, “What’s wrong?”
Dean reached out for his tee, but his fingers lingered on Castiel’s, “Nothing, I just…” he trailed off and shook his head, finally grabbing the piece of clothing and pulling it over his head.
“Dean, we’re best friends. You know you can tell me anything.”
The man visibly hesitated and chewed on his bottom lip, averting his gaze away, before taking a deep breath and locking his gaze back with Castiel’s, “That’s the thing. What did you mean when you said that you couldn’t stop falling earlier? Do you ever wanna be-”
“Yes.” Castiel blurted out, cutting off Dean’s question. He could be wrong, maybe Dean didn’t intend on finishing it with more, but God, he hoped he was right, because otherwise he would fall apart. Now, that the possibility was so close, he would do anything to launch himself onto it and hold tight.
A pair of soft lips connected with his and Castiel’s heart rate quickened once more. The kiss was slow, tender and they poured every unspoken feeling that accumulated throughout the years of their friendship into it. Now, it could bloom into something more. But maybe, it was always there, slowly creeping up until it quietly settled down and waited to be discovered.
When they parted, their foreheads rested against each other. Without any more hesitation, their fingers entwined with a soft brush, “This is love. Right?” Castiel smiled and Dean nodded, “Yeah and there’s so much more on my tongue so take a bite and let it linger.”
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revelisms · 2 months
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A small moment with Primo and Terzo from a fic I haven't gotten around to finishing 🪴
WC: 1.4k | Hurt/comfort, dysfunctional family dynamics, bandaging wounds, mentioned blood, big brother Peemo doing his best.
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The hall echoes around the pincher's thunk-thudding steps like a cavernous wallow: frigid and endless and lonely, as always. At the root of it stands a black-haired boy, stuck between the prongs of a three-branched tree. 
Brother—father—mother and thing. 
His knee is still bleeding.
A hand coiled strangely at his own shoulder, his eyes dismal on the tooth-rotted yellow of Nihil's office, he thinks and scowls and thinks again about how Copia, not more than five years on his bones, had tried to press a healing charm on his leg, with a shiver of magic that felt enormous. 
He'd smacked his hand away, wide-eyed. Then he'd picked between the tears in his pantleg, found the nasty scrape still angry and red, those blue eyes peering miserably up at him, and scuffed. 
Sister has the little freckle-face by the hand, now: her words a silken soothing only a distant memory of his remembers.
The hand on his shoulder squeezes, loosens.
He's off, without another breath—unable to stand any of it: the emptiness, the silence; muggy and dust-soaked and wretched and old. His shoes batter off the stones.
The tussle of habits and buttoned silks are used to this, by now. A mewling stray, some call him: but for all he glides like a cat through the bramble, he just as well soars: a small nightingale flitting through those staccato sunbursts of light and shadow and creaking doors, panting and running, running away from it—from nothing at all.
Still four wings. Still a cage of stone.
He stumbles over the grasses past the stoop to the East Wing: claps his hands on the glass door to the greenhouse. The air is thick with early spring, and damp with the first traces of nectar.
"Nonna." The old goat, nosing over his plants, of course doesn't hear him. He squeaks the door a sliver wider. "Nonna."
Primo sighs, pinching soil into his eyes, and immediately swears a storm. "Yes, what?" He swats his bony hands clean, gruffing dimly. His blondish hair hangs raggled and limp, a few strands slipped loose from the knot at his nape. He's in his gardening clothes, today: wrinkled shirt and trousers, green apron, smattered with fertilizer and grime.
"You three were supposed to be back hours ago. Sister Maria was ready to send a search warrant." His pale eyes leer, gentle for all they glower. He clicks his tongue. "What have you got into, now?"
Terzo, twig-like in the doorway, shrugs. His nails pinch at his shirt. "I, uh—"
His elder brother makes a wordless assessment: a bland stare that slips from his hair to his shoes. "You fell."
He chews on his lip. "I was just in a tree," he mumbles, sourly.
"Little one, we have been through this," Primo chides quietly. "You are too clumsy to do such things." He busies himself over the sink, finding a clean rag for his fresh-scrubbed hands, and hunts for his box of bandages. "One day, you'll break your neck," he grumbles on, peeling the cardboard open, and sighs again. "Come here."
Reluctantly, Terzo does. 
Primo helps him up on the counter, his thin hands cold as claws, and takes his time examining the damage: knee, wrist, cheek. "Always in trouble, aren't you?" he wonders, zeroing back on his battered knee. "You shredded the poor thing." 
The room is so green, so warm, so sunkissed and quiet—a softer sort, now. Terzo keeps his eyes on the ferns, his cheek between his teeth. Avoids the sight of his brother's back turning to look for the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads and whatever else shouldn't be in here but is, because of how routine this has become: how unlikely he is to go anywhere else: how often he has peeked his head around the corner with bleeding fingers and bleeding elbows and a bleeding heart in his hands.
And Primo, somehow, with his box of bandages, always seems to know how to tape shut the cracks.
"You must be more careful, Zito." He says it with a worrisome glance and a furrowed brow: more a mothering hen than the horned thing they've all assigned him to be. The cotton pad he's soaked in alcohol stings. "How your brother has the patience. Now—sit up, please. Hold still."
Terzo frowns, does as he's told, shifting his dirty nails against the paint-chipped counter. There's a cluster of herbs soaking in the window's sun: tarragon, sage, basil, mint. He plucks a sprig of fresh spearmint, sticks it between his teeth, muddling on it. Primo always keeps some there for him to do so, even though he complains. 
"You will eat me out of those leaves," the old goat grumbles—per usual. He smears smooth the bandage on his knee, cleans off his elbow and sticks another one there. "You had lunch, yes?"
"In town."
"And what did you have?"
Terzo picks at his pantleg. "Piadina."
"Good." Primo dabs another cotton pad over his cheek. "And did you get your Chinotto?"
"Uh-huh." He smiles toothily, twists the soda cap out from his pocket. "'Nother for the collection. I'm gonna paint this one purple. See?"
"I see." Primo presses a small bandage over his cheek. "You will have a full set of armor, by the time you are done with those."
Terzo sticks the cap back in his pocket. "That's the point."
"Well, then—perhaps that will help you with these falls of yours."
The light shifts over the glass: a dappling through the pines that cluster around the clearing. Terzo watches it speckle across the floor. His fingers press five knifepoints into the counter.
Softly, unasked, a thin hand cords through his hair.
"You are alright, yes?" murmurs a low voice. "Only a few scrapes and bruises?"
And a little boy with magic that could dwarf him who his mother loved who Secondo could care less for and that must mean Secondo didn't care much for him, either—
He blinks at the plants piled around the room. Shrugs.
A quiet sigh ebbs across from him. "Then all is good, mh?" Primo's fingers comb softly through his hair again, mussing the strands into some floral nicety. And before Terzo can let that comfort shiver through him, let the tears pricking at his lashes build and burn and fall too, that hand draws still over his temple. "Come here."
He slumps into his apron. It reeks of compost, and that wet earthiness of worms, and a trace of his cologne: the one that smells more spicy than sweet. Terzo breathes it in like a blanket he was born with, breathes it out like the first gulp of fresh air he's had in an age. 
"It is alright, little one," Primo is muttering on, rubbing gently over his shoulder. 
Terzo doesn't think it is.
He doesn't know what he thinks about any of it, really.
He thought he wasn't going to fall from that stupid tree.
His bat-eared brother wraps around him like a dragon, like he's a little piece of gold in a rotted den—or, maybe, just a speck of rot, itself. But if he is, he hopes it's the kind he'll stick in his flowerpots, mingle up with the roots so it can grow into something else.
"You want to see the maggots I've harvested?" Primo hushes, smiling slyly.
Terzo blanches to his ears.
"Found them down by the river. They were nested in a deer carcass."
His head twists from his brother's shoulder. "Wait—is it still there? Can we go see it? Please please please—?"
"So you don't want to see maggots, but you...want to see that." Primo ticks a pale brow. "Satan, what am I to do with you?"
A small hand paws at his apron. "I won't touch it—I promise! Pinky-promise! Double-triple-quadruple promise!"
Primo kneads his fingers into his eyes, again. "You will help me with the roses first, eh?" Terzo's mouth pops open, ready for a beewinged bluster. "And then," his brother hisses on, before he can start, "maybe."
The smile that lights up the room might be worth it all—even if it is at something so grotesque. 
"Maybe," Primo reiterates again—but Terzo's already off the counter, sprung free like a wind-up doll, hunting for the clippers and gloves, and, well.
It seems there's not much room to say no, after that.
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