Latest Posts by vitzi9 - Page 9

[ nsfw ] — smut (18+) ; soft fantasy bakugou ; implied arranged marriage ; a lil' bit breeding kink-y ; some perceptions surrounding virginity that i only added because of the genre/setting (medieval fantasy-ish) and not because it aligns with my personal views ; reader and bkg do not speak the same language — but they are learning ; reader and bkg are both a little bit drunk, but very much consenting ; i invented a language for katsuki's people because i am hopeless.

[ wc ] — 4k+

[ ficmas ] — this is my silly little fic for the lovely, lovely @odieoats !! i hope that you enjoy it !! — but, most importantly, i hope that your holidays are treating you well and with love and that your new year be warm and welcoming 🧚‍♂️✨️🎁

It's Midwinter.

Shortest day and longest night of the year, Yagi tells you, and therefore cause for a feast. Never in all your life have you consumed as much mead as you have within the short three months since you've been married, and yet still you have not grown accustomed to it; the honeyed taste, yes, but not to the warm, woozy feeling that takes root between your ears.

One moment you are admiring the many gifts that adorn the great evergreen in the middle of camp, and the next you are cross-eyed, struggling to find the top of the tree and the carefully carved sun that reigns in favor of the Allfather. It's just so tall, you muse, stretching so far into the heavens that one could worry its beauty and grandeur might cause offense to their Gods. 

A hand is at your shoulder, then, to steady you. “Are you well, Chieftess?” 

Chieftess: another novelty with which to grow accustomed.

In the firelight, Yagi’s features are sharpened, shadows long and dark with worry. Frightening is the down-curve of his brow as he stares carefully into your eyes—so tall, you muse—but he must only find your drunkenness, as a smile softens his thin face.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” you return it with ease, cheeks warm, and bring up the small, well-bundled plant in your hands. “It looks as if there’s no place for what my husband has given me.”

“Ah,” carefully, he takes it by the stem and holds it up high to better see, the contrast of its white berries crisp against the night sky. “And do you know where our Chieftain has gone?”

Like slow-falling snow, his words settle in your mind, the flurry of them gathering until the meaning is new and clear. You spin a slippery heel over the snow, looking across the encampment to where you'd last seen your husband: before, he was locked into a fierce embrace with Midoriya, too proud to turn down the invitation to wrestle, but now only his shield-brothers remain, arranged in a circle as they dance and chant and pound their heavy fists against their bare chests. Among the lot of them, you watch on for the ashen mess of his hair, the familiarity of the scars he bears, the drunken, crooked grin that comes so rarely—but Katsuki is not among them.

"I—" you breathe, dizzy, suddenly, as your eyes jump from warm-body to warm-body in search of him. With the fires roaring, the camp is aglow and clouding your vision in an amber haze, and you don't realize you've begun to spin until a firm hand steadies you again.

“Mistletoe,” your Elder murmurs in translation, drawing you from the honeyed-hold. Giant that he is, finding an open branch on the tree poses no issue, and he hangs your gift with a care that melts a nameless tension; still, their traditions are foreign, another language you struggle to interpret. “It says that Young Bakugou is…giving you great love and…asking for your fertility.”

"Fertility?" Such heat flushes your face that you wonder if it could be steaming, and the waver in your voice makes him laugh.

"A common thing wanted of a claimed man," Yagi chimes, voice like mischief as he bows his head to take his leave. Off somewhere behind you is where his gaze falls and freezes, where it thaws and warms with admiration. Your Elder nods, and when you turn to follow his lead, you see why such seasons could come and go in his eyes. "The night will be long, Chieftess, and one should not spend Midwinter alone."

Katsuki stands at the worn-end of the trodden camp trail with shoulders back and squared, covered by the grand furs of his cloak; a God already watching on. It must be the mead that has made him so crystalline and easy to see through, as there's not a hint of hesitation in his gaze as it darkens and lids, as he slowly pulls the material from his broad back in a gesture that seems all too inviting.

And then he is turning, leaving the young night and its celebration for the sanctity of your shared tent.

You are left within the heat of the fire, all too aware, then, of how it has slipped beneath your furs with such a smoldering intensity; the Elder's revelation has a fever starting in your belly and sweat breaking across your skin.

It has been six days since you've last laid with your husband.

A full fortnight had passed before your marriage was consummated, for no other reason than that you were untouched and afraid. Before knowing him as you do now, Bakugou Katsuki came across as little more than a brute, one that seemed likely to hold you down and ravage you as he so pleased, as your mother had tried to warn you, and yet the night of your wedding, he sat across the pillows and told you that he, too, was just as untouched.

Standoffish and a bit shy, more drawn to actions than words as there were not many the two of you shared. Midoriya has been a constant presence, always dragged one way or another so that he may translate the more difficult words Katsuki is most unfamiliar with. Some nights you can hear them near the hearth, the voice of your husband low as he tries in earnest to learn all that he wishes to say to you. 

To enter his manhood with one he so loved is considered a great honor, as Yagi had told you, and to hear him sounding at words in the dark that are so foreign to him, to know that he was just as pure as you, to learn that you were not a thing to be ravaged, but to be cared for; love-making after that seemed only natural.

You watch the firelight dance against the canvas of the tent, wild and without caution, hindered only by your shadow as you approach. Katsuki's boots lay at the entrance—one on its side and the other upright—and despite the snow and ice covering the ground, you shed your own right beside his.

If he hears you enter—and you're sure he must, the savage beat of your heart at the very least, something attuned to his ear only—he offers nothing; instead, his head is back, leaned over the edge of the round, steel tub that sits across from the hearth. Even from where you stand, the steam wisping above the water is visible, causing you to shiver as you begin to undress; if there is one thing you will always have with a Chieftain of Dragons, it’s a boiling bath.

The rustle of your furs finally captures him and Katsuki raises his head just to turn it, to peer over his shoulder at you with one bright red eye. Slow, he blinks, the heat of his gaze searing over your body as it becomes bare to him, lingering on the few, faded burns that sit at your hips from when last you were together. 

Virginal and green as he once was, your husband did not—and still does not—lack enthusiasm whenever he is tangled up within you; the ache you’ve been nursing in your lower belly in the recent days seems to have subsided, though you wonder if it is only your rapidly building arousal that has dissolved pain to pleasure. One broad hand breaks the surface of the water to rise and trace over your forearm, and Katsuki looks at you as if you are a deity to worship—and you find you couldn’t care less about any lingering soreness.

"May I join you?" 

Already he’s begun to make room for you, but he hums in assent, nodding. "Yes." 

At your hiss of surprise from the temperature of the water, a crooked grin breaks across his face and he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he presses his mouth into the soft skin below your belly button. Not to kiss but just to soothe, laving you with a drunken affection. 

When you can finally stand it, Katsuki pulls you into his lap, slotting your legs around his hips with such ease that you need not ask the Gods if he was made for you or you for him; one and the same, you are, neither existing without your shared heart. Its beat flourishes, spreading to the points of your fingers and the pit of your stomach and the thick of your neck. Only now do your bones thaw, made warm from the water and the lingering dregs of mead and his love, from the home he has made your own.

You kiss away the natural crease of his brow, following down the marks of war that scar his cheeks, his neck. It earns you a small grunt and he eventually turns, overwhelmed, then, by your attention to his intimate details.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly, “for the gift. I didn’t—” guilt rushes through you like a winter wind, returning with a bite for all that you still have to learn of his people. Your people. “I didn’t think to find one for you.”

“No need for gift.” He murmurs, into your skin like a secret.

A frown he doesn’t see deepens your lips, and you run your now wet hands through the strands of hair at the base of his spine, dampening them. “I would have liked to give you one.”

“No need for gift.” Katsuki repeats, pinching you beneath the water until you are squirming against him, until you can argue no longer. His hands grow bold, mapping you carefully, adding every crease and curve to what he already knows of your body. 

You speak up when he cups your bottom, before either of you can get too lost. “Yagi tells me it’s a symbol of love, your mistletoe.”

It does little to distract him; the fine point of his nose drags up the column of your throat, breath tickling just under your ear. “...yes.”

“And…fertility.”

Katsuki’s head pops up then, eyebrow raised. “Hah?”

“For—” you pause, thinking, “—having children.”

A common thing wanted of a claimed man, Yagi told you, but in the slow burning light of the hearth, your husband’s face pinkens and he glances away, instead watching his hands below the water. It’s something you know is expected, though it remains a conversation yet to be had, perhaps when you know the words, the both of you; in the meantime, you’ll continue to learn his sensitivities and delights, to teach him yours—all that there is left to know, at least.

“Yes,” he murmurs, fitting his thumbs back into the grooves he’s left on your hips, what of his hands he’s engraved in your skin. Despiste the claim it marks on you, Katsuki frowns, watching you carefully as his fingers move in slow, firm circles. “Pain here?”

“No,” you smile, to this man that you thought would ruin you. “No pain.”

Warmed, he spreads beneath you easily, shifting you along with him as he presses where you are soft to where he is hard. The pressure surprises you both despite the heady weight circulating throughout the tent, and Katsuki exhales like he wants his breath to move through you. 

"For love," he speaks to your heart, the devotion molded in his image. "And…what is it?"

You snort, pressing your lips into his hairline. "And fertility."

He is silent for a long moment, thinking in your tongue, before planting kiss after kiss along your chest, your collarbones, the hollow of your throat. "'n givin' babies."

A true laugh startles out of you, shaking you both with its sincerity, but Katsuki only continues to sigh into your skin, his hands moving to the dip of your waist, up the stretch of your spine and back, walking every last mile of your distance. 

There's a soft tickle from where his mouth trails and you think he means to make you squirm again, but you soon realize he is murmuring —"...engitt vakvaniki?"—though you think the words are more for him than yourself; a reiteration, some kind of assurance that you've outgrown the intimate soreness he once gave you.

"No," you breathe again, quietly. "No pain."

It's all the promise he needs: Katsuki's grip tightens, meaningful, and then he is pushing and pulling you over him until the stars are shooting through your every nerve. A haze develops in the soft bicolor of both his eyes, and you can see him fighting to find you through the clouds as you follow the silent commands of his hunger.

Desire leads you; top to bottom, back and forth, head to base. Against your chest, you can feel the slight part of his mouth, the flare of his nostrils as the lap of the water grows. One of his arms slowly winds behind your waist as you gasp, the swollen tip of him catching your most sensitive spot, tenderness making you both groan.

You lose yourself to the movement, dragging just behind Katsuki's stifled, narrow upward thrusts. Wide as the tub may be, it's nothing to having him underneath you amidst his thick, woolen blankets, but the seedlings of lust are growing, blooming, into something with roots you don't want to unearth just yet.

Fingers tangle in your hair, angling your head down towards him so that he can press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your lips; full of bite and teeth, revealing what little control he has over the animal of his body, just as wild and without caution as the fires that blaze in a dragon's honor.

But—his attention to the water is lost and its heat is steadily fading, smothered out by the winter winds slipping between the flaps of your tent. A shudder wracks your spine, but despite the rough hand that trails up to cup your breast, their stiff peak isn't from Katsuki's touch.

Voice low, you pull back just enough to fit the gruff of his name, stopping him mere seconds from sucking your soft, pebbled skin into his mouth.

His eyes dart up to your face, half-lidded. "Hah?"

If he wasn't so cute, you might prove a stronger willed woman; a light kiss to his nose has him scrunching it, and a light kiss to his lips has him surging, welcoming the wet dip of your tongue into his mouth.

Only when the frost creeps further in are you able to steady yourself, now swollen and bitten. "I'm cold."

As if finding himself after ages lost, Katsuki leans back, seemingly surprised, to peer down into the water, glaring at it like it's betrayed him in some way. With a lip between his teeth, his attention shifts from you to the nest of furs you've been bedding in this season, and it's not long before his arms are tightening around your body.

"No, wait—!"

He rises at once, laughing meanly in your ear as you struggle to cling to him; in return, you bite his lobe and snort into his cheeks as he hurries across the tent. Cradling the back of your head as if you were a child, as if you were something more special than you are, Katsuki lays you down amongst the wool and feathers, eager to slot himself behind you.

A shiver tears through even him, has him burying his face into your neck as he pulls the blanket up around your heads. It only takes a moment for his hands to heat, for his heat to spread, to have you loose and wide open once again; hips against your backside, your husband hikes your leg up, tucking your foot behind his thigh so that you are bared for the fever of his touch.

"Need no gift," the words are lost to your gasp, when the too-light pad of his fingers swirl where you are tender and slick. "No-thing but you."

And then the thick weight of him is gliding over your core, teasing, before he can no longer stand to be without you; a plead falls from his mouth as he guides himself into you, needy and wanton against your temple. Surrounded by his love and touch and sounds and entwined in such a way has your stomach tight with want, and with every inch Katsuki pulls out and pushes back in, you angle your hips so that he is seated as deep as your body will allow. 

"Katsuki," you gasp at how he carves himself into your nave, arching your back and groping blindly at his body.

One of his hands finds your cheeks and he seizes them, turning your face so that he may press his lips into yours. "Fuck," he hisses, capturing a rhythm that rattles you both. "Var in svo—good. Fuck, s'good."

You can only wordlessly agree, settling for a noise he eagerly drinks down. Only once he's certain your head will not fall away from him does his hand return to the seam of your body, pads of his fingers stroking you and the mess already leaking down your thighs. When your lips part, he hums in appreciation and presses down further, as if your pleasure is feeding his own.

The wet sound of skin against skin grows, a drumbeat to the song you both sing as your fires rage; sweat builds in all your creases and curves, dampens your hairline and his as you fall prey to a savagery you once feared—and now have come to crave.

Katsuki groans into your mouth, worship in a language you do know. The rough drag of him in and out of your heat never ceases and beneath your touch, he starts to tremble, too deep into something neither of you can stand.

"Ah," he props himself up on an elbow, fingers digging into the fat of your hips so that he may pull you to meet his every thrust. You look back over your shoulder at him, core pulsing at how his head has fallen slack, with mouth open and eyes shut as he fucks himself into a euphoria he only finds with you.

You make a weak attempt at his name, lost in the throes of your own pleasure, and wait for the hot spill of him inside of you, but—you are all at once empty.

"I—shit," a hand is fisted into his own hair like he's trying to hold back his tide, to keep it low for now. His skin gleams in the firelight, a God wrapped in gold.

Chest heaving, he shuffles around your leg, finding the home between your thighs as he presses a weak trail of kisses down your chest, down your sternum and to your stomach. You know where he's going; at the mere thought of how he drank from you the last time you were together, your core clenches, something that doesn't go unnoticed by him as his crooked smile is pressed into your skin.

It's an act that still has you a bit shy, and as the furs shift and the cold clings to the droplets lingering on your skin, you shiver. Katsuki struggles a bit to bunch himself up beneath the blanket, so that he and you may stay covered, and the stars are still burning in your veins, in your nerves, and so you pull at his shoulders.

"Later," you can't help but to laugh when he frowns. "When it's not so cold."

Words you know to be little, childish insults tumble from his lips, foreign, as he crawls back up the expanse of your body. You tug a bit harshly on his hair and his lips curl, the brat, mischievous and taunting with a bite to your cheek.

"Baby," he grumbles, although smiling.

You mean to nip back at him, but Katsuki pulls one of your legs over his shoulders and your attention is drawn to his body now that it sits in plain view. Scars that color him, that bear proof to the strength he's grown; such a body like his seems carved from marble, and your heart softens at every memory of his unfouded shyness.

A God at your center, heart shared. Katsuki looks upon you just as you look upon him and the honey-mead warms in your belly, drips down your spine with the weight of all the love you hold for him—and he for you.

You tell him quietly, as he bows his head to spit where he means to join you. "Ig siggna vik."

Though the words fit odd inside your mouth, their shape is known to him; he glances up as if in awe, and his answer is a breathless exhale of your name as he slips inside you once again. His face goes directly to your neck, already trembling hands slipping up to hold your face so that you are always close, so that his breath is yours and your moans are his.

"Var in svo hott," he tells you again; it's so good, a common phrase that has your threads wearing thin.

It's take little time before he is falling back into the same bruising pace, chasing the high you're eager to grant him. You fist a hand in his hair as his teeth sink into your skin, as he bullies into the sweet spot that has your stars aligning, has them shining behind the lids you can't help but to close.

"Fuck," you breathe, arching into him. "Katsuki—Gods—"

Your vulgarity has his breath pitching and exhaling sharply and he stops, only for one long, horrible moment, before he can't bear it.

"Fu—sorry," he breaks, the sound so fragile on his tongue. It's not a word you've ever heard from him and your chest tightens at the thought of him asking Midoriya for it. "Sorry, sorry."

With a desperate moan, he's sitting back on his knees, brow crumpling as his eyes are forced shut. "Oh, I—" and his hold finds the dip of your waist, grip tight enough to steal your breath so that he can pull you up into him as he cums. Deep and hard, shoulders shaking as he tenses over you, groaning on such a low sound that your own tide nearly crests.

The sight of your husband—Chieftain of Dragon's, the warlord that won you from the hands of your father, that loves you as winter loves the wind—reduced to ashes at your heat, trembling on the breeze as he twitches and spills inside of you; wild is your desire, without caution.

Katsuki only takes the time to press a sloppy kiss into your cheeks, to push back the damp hair that has fallen into your face before his hands are re-molding to your hips. Though you are more than slick enough, still he leans back to spit into the space between you, spreading the wetness as he circles you again with the pad of his thumb.

And then you are following not far behind him: it's the pressure around your tenderness and the deep sink of him inside you and the eyes rolling back into his head as he fucks through his own sensitivity. Your cries mingle, him at the sudden flutter of your walls, and you at the honeyed-bliss that he gives you.

"I—fuck," he pants, running a hand up your stomach as your trembling slows into delayed, sporadic aftershock. You feel him kick inside of you at the sight and you laugh despite your sudden weariness. "I love you."

Though he is flushed in you and the firelight, his cheeks brighten, if possible, like such an admission is yet another display of his idle bashfulness. You smile and his own grows in return, crooked and dazzling, and you open your arms for him to slump down onto you.

Katsuki does, but it's not long before he is reaching to toss the wool off his back, murmuring, "hot," into your ear—and then because he is a terror, he hisses, "baby," too, like an overgrown child. 

There are other words he whispers into your skin, some you know and some you don't. Some you'll come to learn, some he'll share with you, this language that will tell him all you cannot. You're not worried, however, at either his understanding or yours, with a love as true as stars in the sky, like white berries—crisp—against even the longest and darkest nights.

Hello hello! I really loved your hc of unconventional things the boys of class 1A find hot and I was wondering if you could do Kiri and Tokoyami as well? They're so adorable :)

UNCONVENTIONAL THINGS CLASS 1A BOYS FIND HOT AS HELL

CLASS 1A BOYS X F!READER

masterlist

comfort, nsfw

a/n: i gave u an extra two bc im nice like that, pls enjoy! reblogs appreciated!!

part 1 part 2 part 3

KIRISHIMA

• i’d have to say side boob

• he likes that little bit of fat the pokes out between ur armpit and ur chest

•u guys know what i mean right?

• this

•he likes it

• also likes the shoulder fat that pokes outta ur bra

• he thinks u look like a greek goddess with it (cute)

• if he’s laying on ur chest (which he does a lot) (loves ur titties) he’ll stare at the little fat deposit lovingly.

•gives it a little pinch, and when u complain or say it’s embarrassing he’ll softly say “no babe, i like it. it’s cute”

• if u ever complain about a top making the fat of ur shoulders spill out, hes right behind you, kissing ur neck and telling you you look beautiful in this top, please don’t take it off. (or do but not bc it doesn’t look good.)

• loves boobs, end of. if theyre YOUR boobs?????????? you think he’s gonna b bitchin cuz there’s a little bit of fat???? that’s what boobs are!!!!!

•but no, loves all up on ur titties everytime u fuck, expect biting and nipple sucking

• just loves you so much, loves your body so much

• if a man put a gun to his head and asked him to make a flaw on u he would say “tell Y/N i love her” (his own words)

• but yes! kirishima is my boyfriend and we are getting married !

TOKOYAMI

•hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

• big noses

•mans loves a big nose

• i also think looking like a bird is a humbling experience for a man so he’s just generally less critical of women (feminist bird)

• but he does find himself more attracted to people with big noses generally

• when u say ur insecure about it, he is puzzled

• “why????? it’s strong and majestic”

•(that’s enough poetry for you although i appreciate the sentiment)

• boops it with his finger sometimes

•yeahhhhhhh

SERO

• man this dude likes asses of all shapes and sizes

• is not picky what so ever

• believes that when one says one is an ass man, that should pertain to all caboose!!!! if one picks and chooses the asses they like and don’t, one is not an ass man!!!

• let’s say u have a flat ass (like me shout out to all my tall girls with no ass) and ur like

“ugh don’t walk behind me Hanta it’s embarrassing”

• he is like ????????? but i was going to respectfully stare at your ass??? (doesn’t say it out loud but thinks it)

• “my ass is too flat i don’t want u looking at it”

• 😋😋😋 goes to 😱😱😱 real quick

• “what do you mean Y/N???????? why wouldn’t i want to see it??????”

• ur like “i just said Hanta! i don’t like it so i don’t want u looking at it!”

• hmm. maybe he won’t look at it right then but next time u guys fuck it’s in doggy and he’s spanking the fuck outta u, squeezing and smoothing the flesh

• he loves your ass, loves it loves it loves it

• he’s fully aware that it’s not like, kim k or anything

• doesn’t care one bit, thinks it’s adorable while simultaneously hot and turns him on

• makes the extra effort after that to give it some love

• if he wants to initiate something nowadays, all he’ll do is come up behind you and whisper in your ear, grinding his clothed cock on the fat of your ass, making you whimper

• if you’re on top of him, he’s grabbing your cheeks and rubbing them soothingly while you make yourself cum on his fat dick

•n e ways, sero loves ur ass, and soon enough, he’s gonna make you love it too

SHINSOU

• he likes women with deep voices

• his voice is pretty deep, so he might feel weird having an s/o that sounds really young in comparison, he just feels a little icky about it

• so when u have deep voice, he goes nuts

• thinks it’s so sultry and sexy and cool

• if u ever complain like “ugh i sound like a teenage boy” or “i sound so manly”

• he’ll be like “babe u sound like a hot girl, don’t sweat it”

• nothing makes him wilder than your moans, omg ur moans

• like i said, he thinks ur voice is so sultry and sexy, just makes him speed up whatever he’s doing to hear more

• on one hand, hitoshi would find it so hot to be told what to do in a voice like yours, but on the other, i think it would also drive him crazy to know that someone with such a strong voice is whimpering now, entirely at his mercy, i think it could go both ways

• really depends on ur preferences

• hitoshi my insomniac beloved ❤️

thanks for reading!!! lmk if u wanna continue this series with other characters/shows, i really do like doing these. reblogs appreciated, bye love you bye!!!

Mutual Fascination

I do have in mind a part two for this if enough ppl like it. Enjoy for now~

Naga AU! Highly inspired by the world building of the bakudeku fic in the eye of the storm it stopped updating back in 2019 tho:((((

(Warnings: Naga au, monsters, imprisonment, non con touching) 

(Naga AU! Izuku Midoriya, Bakugou Katsuki, Shouto Todoroki, Eijirou Kirishima x human!reader, poly)

Four weeks ago, if someone had told you nagas existed, you would have laughed. 

But now, four weeks later, still a castaway, still seeing remnants of the boat you were once on floating in the sea, you don’t have the luxury to laugh, not anymore. 

You still don’t remember what it was. The boat looked fine during the storm, but there was a crack, a blast. 

Next thing you know, you were waking up ashore, with someone inhuman hovering over you. 

Afficher davantage

Crybaby part. 4

pairing: Bakugou X Fem Reader

Summary: With the bills piling up and no way to know when you will be able to return to work. Your roommate suggests you take a call center job where you can work from home. The job? being an anonymous person for Pro Heroes to vent to.

But no amount of training could prepare you for just how quickly your first caller makes you cry.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Pro Hero AU

Wordcount: 27.2k Part 4/6 (this chapter 6.7k)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave me a comment so I know to tag you next update♥)

Also posted on AO3 (most of my work is hanging out there♥ please check it out!)

Warnings: use of pet names, cursing, and more sassiness! Mentions of drinking and partying. Phone sex, use of sex toys. fluff, lots of fluff. Dirty talk.

You were trying your best to ignore the way you twitched every time your phone made a notification. Resisting the urge to immediately grab it. Only to sadly realize it was just an email or something from one of your games.

You knew what you hoped to find as much as you hated admitting it. You were longing for him to call, text something. Anything at this point to get him to talk to you again?

But you knew it would do much good right now. The last thing you heard from him was over a week ago. He sent you a simple text that said he had a mission and he wasn't going to be able to contact you.

You were going on week two of not talking to your mystery hero, all because he had an important job or something. He didn't give you a time frame on when he would be back, just that he would contact you when he could.

You suppose it was nice of him to give you the heads up, but all it did was made you worry. It was clear from the one picture he sent you that he was built to withstand almost anything. Strong, large, and built like an Olympian God.

But you always have been the type to fret over people, even if you didn't want to.

That's why on the way back from your appointment to get the rest of the stitches out of your hand. You couldn’t help but let yourself do a little shopping. Using your scooter was so much easier now that you were accustomed to driving it. And now that you had both hands you were really moving.

Leaving the doctor's office you stop by a little restaurant on the good side of town. And when you said good, what you really meant was fancy. The streets were clean, well kept and all the buildings blended in together, unlike your own.

With the extra money, you had been pulling lately your roommate decided to tag along. Since this was the first time both of you had some extra money to blow. So she fetched the waiter as you found a nice little table outside on the patio to stroll over to.

"This place is bougie," She remarks as she sits down in the chair beside you. "I feel so fancy right now."

You laugh because it was rare that the two of you had a day off together anymore. Let alone time to actually go out and do something. Except for the week you were staying in the hotel, but last month you didn't have the kind of money you now have.

It was a nice peaceful lunch the two of you shared. Day drinking and searching the crowd for available cute men to eye up and down. But even that lost its joy soon enough because you were still missing someone.

"You know he will call when he can right?" Your roommate says eyeing you as she takes a sip from her dwindling drink.

"I know, it just sucks that I have to wait around all worried about him."

You had to vent the next morning when you woke up. Your guilty conscience had been eating away at you. From the time you saw his picture until you couldn't help but confess all your sins to her.

She kept all your secrets of course, but she was more than invested in your new love life. She promised not to tell a soul about how you had worked your way around the work codes. And managed to snag this guy's number. Or how you were convinced he was toying around with you all because he could.

She really was the worst though because she was not so silently egging the entire situation on. Begging for more Information. Asking if he had any cute single friends. Hell, she was already trying to plan the wedding!

She was also the reason why you were now standing inside this fancy-ass lingerie store. Panicking as she helped you pick out something new. She convinced you that all you needed was to spend a little extra time making yourself feel beautiful. And maybe a little sexy so you could understand how hot you really were.

But as she offered each set of matching bras and panties you couldn't help but feel anxious. This was so far out of your comfort zone. You didn't dress like this. Especially with the intention of seeing yourself dressed provocatively.

But with a little reassurance. And some help from the woman at the store you left with not one but three different styles of lingerie. And as soon as you managed to open the door. She was busting at the seams trying to get you to let her doll you up, and take pictures.

And you figured why not. It had been a really long time since you even did your hair, you could dress a little fun. And flirty for a bit.

So she began her work, fixing your hair, forcing it into a style that framed your face well. Making sure that all your flyaways were tamed and she started on your makeup.

She was always so much better at it than you were. She had years worth of experience in mixing foundations to get just the right color. and she had the most amazing trick for getting both sides of your eyeliner to line up.

And you had to admit that once you saw the final product. You were just about convinced she had made a pact with the devil himself. You looked, killer. Hair did, and makeup was flawless. But as she started pulling out your new garments from the store you almost lost your nerve.

"Why don't we start with this one?" She said holding up the most conservative-looking piece.

It was a cream-colored satin night dress. Delicate roses and other flowers adorn various places along the material. It had been the first one that you agreed to buy because it did look pretty.

She was clever in the way she had you pose. Hiding the cast from the camera with a sheet as she had you lay on the bed. Ass poking up just a touch, and legs spread enough to give yourself a bit of an arch.

And with each outfit she had you doing some wild stuff. The next one was a lot more riske. Black high-waisted panties and a barely there bra. Straps hanging and pulled taught against the curves of your body. Doing more suggestive poses every time the camera on your phone clicks.

The final piece was the one that you had the most reservations about. It was sheer completely. Only tiny little embroidered flowers are set against a burnt orange mesh. Being the only pieces that you couldn't see through. It was tight, pushing your breasts to an unnatural height. The thong firmly embedded into your backside. She got pictures of it from every single angle.

You had to admit though once you saw the results you would bang yourself without a second thought. She had a way of working angles to make every picture of you look amazing. You really had to hand it to her, she knew her stuff!

"Why don't we try some with just a sheet?" She asks as you sit on the bed thumbing through some of the pictures.

"What?" You ask turning your head up to look at her.

"Come on! Have I steered you wrong before? Besides, we gotta give your mystery man something for the spank bank." She winks at you and you immediately feel the heat rise to your face. Cheeks and ears are burning at the thought of him.

"These never see the light of day!" You bark, throwing your phone on the bed. "I will die."

"Nah, we gotta bag us that boy now."

"I like how this went from being me, To we!" You laugh.

But you are already fiddling with the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your body. Ten minutes later she has you posed in such a way you were starting to get a backache from it. Spread on all fours. Sheet gracefully wrapped in your hands and you slid forward and pull the fabric around your body. Leaving more than enough skin to get the idea you were naked underneath. Most of your weight deposited between your elbows and knees back arched deep. Head turned away from the camera giggling like a schoolgirl.

"If these don't bag you a man, I'm still single." She whistles as she clicks the camera on your phone one last time.

You can't help but giggle at her words. She took her role as best friend seriously. Hyping you up over the most stupid and mundane things. Being supportive even when you didn't feel confident. You really appreciated the small things she did for you all the time. Even if they pushed you out of your comfort zone.

Most of your afternoon was spent in various positions on your bed, but your body felt exhausted. It was so much moving and it put a lot of pressure on your body to stay In the pose she wanted.

Satisfied with her work she finally set you free from your torture. She herself had a date tonight and she needed to start getting ready half an hour ago.

And for you? Well, you figured eating some leftovers and a nice bath was going to be the best medicine for your aching body. So as she headed out the door heels clacking against the floor as she ran. You heated up your food and ate in the kitchen.

All the while still scrolling through the pictures on your phone. And that's when you let your body move on autopilot, clicking on the one picture you really liked. The one where you were arched up at a high angle. Your legs parted and you could only see half of your face in the shot. It was of the satin night dress and out of all the pictures you had taken it looked the best on you. Just enough skin to suggest something more could happen. But it covered enough that you weren’t uncomfortable with your body in it.

Without much thought, you click and add it to the message on the still unsaved number in your phone. Typing out “thinking of you” in the message bar.

But it was only a moment later you started to lose your nerves about actually sending it. His faceless picture of his sculpted abs. Still visible from your previous conversation.

You heavily debated on if sending them was a smart idea or not. He may not appreciate your lewds the way your roommate did. You try to think of if you were in the same predicament. Would you want an unsolicited set of pictures from someone you didn’t know?

Suddenly you grew self-conscious the more you thought about it. What if your mystery man didn’t like the way you looked? What if you weren’t his type? What if he liked a girl with more class than you possessed? Someone who wouldn’t send him these types of pictures.

What if he thought you were ugly?

That was more than enough to get you to exit out of your text and place your phone face down on the countertop. Now that you were thinking about it, what would doing any of this really accomplish? You would never be able to meet him. And even if you did he was sure to ghost you once he realized you didn’t have a quirk.

With a heavy sigh, you limp your way into the bathroom and start running a bath. Nice and hot, the steam filled the tiny space quickly. Now, that you had time to practice balancing your body. It was easier to disrobe and slide yourself into the heated water of the tub. Instantly feeling your muscles relax with the added heat.

But even the relaxation of your bath couldn’t keep your mind from wandering back to him. Was he ok? Was he out there right now fighting for his life against some villain? You hoped that he was taking care of himself at least. Not being stubborn when one of his friends asked him to visit the doctor again.

You shudder at the thought that he was willing to let his injuries go untreated. Just because he wanted to be stubborn.

You spend a while just soaking in your water and thoughts. Everything from soapy bubbles to swirling emotions fills the bathroom. This is one of the reasons you think that the company you worked for was trying so hard to fight. Keeping everyone anonymous, so feelings wouldn’t get attached.

You hated that you missed him, but you hated that you could talk to him more. It was such a weird set of emotions that you were putting yourself through. Reaching for your phone you go to pull up his number again. Sending the small message you had typed out in the text bar before you hit send. Closing your phone and sitting it back down.

If nothing else you did it for yourself. You know it would make you feel better if you had been away after a long and hard work day. To pull up your texts and see that someone thought about you enough to send you a message. Even if it was small, just a few words would mean the world to you.

You only hoped he would feel the same once he read it, whenever that would be.

Dragging yourself up you pull the plug from the drain and slowly the water starts to go down. And as you pull yourself from the tub and start to dry off. Taking your time drying your body. Making sure to moisturize your skin before slipping into your simple set of old and worn pajamas. Hopping your way out of the bathroom and over to your bed. You don’t even bother to plug up your phone before you fall asleep.

Casually dreaming that your hero was ok, wherever he was.

Four days had passed by the last message you sent him. Four long and boring days of going back to your job and you are sitting at your desk. Just about to end your final call for the day. The woman you had on the phone wanted to talk and talk and then talk some more. Which was fine, but it had been three hours of her nonstop blabbering. And you were growing tired.

"And then he had the audacity to turn me down!" She whines into the phone.

Only half paying attention to her you yawn before you ask her a question.

"Which one?"

"Dynamight! Like he thinks he is all that and more. Don't let that cute face fool you, he is nothing but a menace."

"I'm sure he is." You reply.

But even you weren't immune to his charm. He was rough around the edges and attractive. You understood why people would be willing to throw themselves. At the current number two hero. If you were brave enough and had more confidence you would too. He was handsome, eyes full of fire, and a cocky attitude to match.

But if it was impossible for another pro to get a chance with him. You wouldn't even be given a single moment of his time. You didn't have a flashy quirk. Or the confidence to even order yourself a coffee at the new bakery. That opened down the street for two months. He would never go for a normal, boring person like you.

"Oh dear, there's the alarm! Thank you for listening to me!" The lady says as you hear the all too familiar siren sounding off in the background.

It was the same, no matter who you happen to be talking to. Loud and quick, able to alert just about anyone that something urgent was happening. You first heard it when you were on the call with your hero. He hung up on you without a second thought as he rushed to answer the alarm. Which was understandable, they were heroes. It was their job to do all the dangerous work that most of the population couldn’t. You couldn’t hold it against them, even if it seemed like a rude thing to do.

"Good luck, come back safe!" You tell her with a little more pep in your voice as you end the phone call.

You sit back in your chair and let yourself decompress. It felt like the entire day had dragged on, refusing to end. Your shoulders were aching and your lower back was on fire from not being able to move around much.

All you wanted to do was lay in your bed and finally get a moment's peace. That was until a soft know sounded at your door.

"Hey hun, some of us are headed out tonight, would you like to join?" She asks already half dressed.

"Nah, I'm exhausted. Think I'm just gonna call it a night."

"Ok, grandma. Don't party too hard while I'm gone." She snickers.

"I'll only do the hard drugs, and commit two felonies! I'm taking it easy tonight." You laugh as she shakes her head.

"Thank God, We don't have the bail money for three felonies!" She laughs.

"Have fun! And be safe, please. Call me if you need anything." You can't help but plead with her.

You know she has a horrible habit of getting drunk and running off if she was given the opportunity to. You had spent many nights chasing her down, shooing men away from her flirtatious words. Slowly convincing her to come back to the table and have some water.

You say your goodbyes and shortly after you hear the front door close. Well, that left you with nothing but your bed to keep you company. The house was quiet and you enjoyed the silence. After spending your days getting your ear talked off. It was a pleasant change to be able to sit with your own thoughts for a bit.

You didn't even bother to turn on the tv or look at your phone. Everyone you talked to was out anyway. But you just spend a while not bothering to let your mind think of anything in particular. Tossing yourself around in your bed, getting comfortable the longer you lay there.

It was evening, and the sun was going down. But you couldn't keep your eyes from fluttering shut the longer you lazed about. Sleep took over before the sun had even fully set in the sky. And you were sleeping well, hard even that was until you hear the quick notification go off on your phone.

But it still wasn't enough to pull you from your heavy sleep. Just as you turn your head in the other direction. Another notification goes off from your bedside table.

With a sleepy hand coming up to rub your eyes you try your best to wake up. Your eyes were still heavy from the nap and the darkness in your room now. It was difficult to make your body come alive once again. Your phone dings with a notification, and you reluctantly start to move to pick up your phone. You hadn't even grabbed and before the screen lit up with an incoming call.

Closing your eyes to shield them from the bright screen you answer the phone with a sleepy yawn and hello.

"You must have been thinking about me awful hard there princess."

It was a dream, you had to still be dreaming that he had called you. It had been so long since the last time you had heard his voice that now even in your sleep it was haunting you.

"Your not real." You mutter wiping your hand along your face.

You were still too deep in your sleep to connect the dots right away. To realize he was actually on the phone with you, berating you after almost two weeks of no communication.

"I'm real something right now. Tired, pent up, frustrated by that fucking text you sent me."

"My text?" You frown slightly at hearing his choice of words. "I thought it would be nice to see a familiar face once you were able to check your phone."

You guess you were wrong to assume that he wanted anything to do with you before he was ready to call. He sounded frustrated by your text, which wasn't the point of it.

You can Hear him growl as stuff is being moved around aggressively on his side of the line. and the sound of water running, shortly after. It took him a couple of seconds but he comes back and you could swear that you hear him in the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" You ask sitting up slightly.

"Getting in the shower, the only place I get any fucking privacy." He growls.

"Yo-, you can call me later. You didn't have to call me right now." You panic.

If he was about to get naked and climb in the shower. The last thing he needed was for your annoying ass voice to be still jabbering his ears off. With some half-asleep apology for bothering him via text.

"Think you can just send me something like that and not expect me to do something about it?"

"My text? What was wrong with it?" You ask innocently.

You didn’t have the heart for him to yell at you right now. You just wanted him to maybe wake up to a nice text is all. You didn’t expect with the way your conversations had been going that he would get upset with you over it. The thought kept ringing in your mind that you somehow had crossed some unknown boundary. That he had set without telling you.

"That picture meant for me?" He asked, a voice full of something you couldn't quite place.

And you feel all the blood drain from your face. As quickly as you could you scramble to pull up your text log with his number. And you realize in horror exactly what he was referring to. Sent from you four days ago was the text you had sent. But like a fucking idiot you had sent that fucking picture of yourself as well.

You completely forgot to delete it before you sent the message.

“I am so sorry!” You already feel the heavy tears of embarrassment welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to send that to you! I was just trying to send you a nice text and I didn’t-” He cut you off mid-rant.

“Who was it for then?” He barks and you can hear the anger in his voice.

But you couldn’t find your voice at the moment, now that he wanted an answer. Was he mad because you sent the pic to him, or did he think you were trying to send it to someone else that had him mad?

You could hear his heavy pants for breath and the water as it splashed down into the shower. He was waiting on you to give him some kind of answer, but you didn’t know what would soothe his anger faster. Admitting the truth that you fucked up and should have never sent it, or lie and say it was meant for someone else.

“Answer me brat.”

And you don’t know why, but the way his words rolled off his tongue half feral and hot made your semi-awake body jolt to life. He was being mean again. But instead of the tears threatening to spill from your eyes from shame. They were welling up now because of the heat that was soaring its way through your limbs. There was no reason for him to call you a brat but sound like that as he said it.

“T, they were for you!” You finally admit. “My roommate convinced me to buy some stupid lingerie and we took some photos. I didn’t know I sent it with the text, I thought I deleted it.”

He didn’t answer you right away, and it only made you squirm around in your bed more. Listening to his heavy breath and the way he groaned as the water cascaded down around him.

“I’m sorry,” You mutter out softly.

Probably too soft for him to hear over to roar of his shower. But it took him only a moment to laugh that sinful ass laugh he had.

“Told you to stop apologizing when you didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

"Isn't that why you're mad?" You ask confused. "Because I overstepped a boundary?"

"I'm mad because I've been hard as a rock for two fucking hours!"

If you didn't know any better you would take that as he liked what he saw. But in your mind it just wasn't clicking, how could someone like him even find you attractive? The man had the body of a God, but he found your soft body likable?

"Why?" Is the only thing you can force out of your mouth.

It was stupid really. Why of all things you could have said, was that the thing that flew out of your mouth?

"You just like playing stupid or somethin'?" He asks his voice low. "How could I not be when your face down and ass up, laying there so pretty for me?" He moans finally and you swear you feel your body melt into the bed. "Were you thinking of me when you were takin em?"

You can't help but let yourself fall back into bed. Stunned and completely turned on by the sounds you are blessed with. His pants for air coming in louder, mixing with the flowing water from his shower. It didn't last long though because you hear the water shut off. And the sounds of the curtain being ripped open on his end.

"You might have crossed my mind a time or two." You admit shyly.

"I know you took more show 'em to me."

"No." You whisper

There was no way you could show him the other ones.

"Sweetheart I'll leave this mission, and be banging on your door in less than an hour. If you know what's good for you you'll send em."

And God, if he sounded sexy when he was mad. Then the pure dominance in his voice was enough to make even the most prude of people wither away. You couldn't deny his demands, not when he sounded like that. Quickly you pull up your photos and add one of each set you did. All in different positions and angles. If he wanted to see more. Who were you to tell him no again?

The world needed saving, and if it meant that it kept him there long enough to finish his mission. Then you were just doing what any good citizen would, right?

"Fuck Sweetheart. Do you even know what I wanna do to you right now?"

You have to rub your thighs together. Failing to relieve any of the building tension growing between your legs. Your mind instantly jumps to all the things you were willing to let him do to you if he was here.

"What would you do?"

And before you even have a chance to bring your phone back yo to your ear your screen lights up with a new message. Quickly you open your texts and your eyes roll back in your head at what you see. His massive hand was wrapped firmly at the base of his cock. A small tuft of neatly trimmed blond hair sat at the base. Thick, blue veins ran up the length of him to the angry-looking pink head. Maybe you were being biased here, but it had to be one of the prettiest disks you've ever seen.

"That broken leg wouldn't be the only thing hindering your ability to walk." You can almost picture the smirk he has on his face as the words leave his mouth. "Where are you at?" He rasps into the phone.

"In bed, why?" You ask flustered beyond belief.

"Anyone home?"

"No."

You hear him open a door and start to yell into the room he just walked into.

"Get the fuck out!"

And you hear the groans of at least two other men in the room.

"Come on man, we just got back! Give me a couple of minutes." You hear the familiar voice of the guy from before.

The one who you had to help guilt trip your hero with. His happy voice sounded tired as you continued to listen in.

"I don't give a fuck, I got shit to do." He barks.

"Oh Kacchan before I forget!"

"Later!" He cuts the other familiar voice off.

You hear a slight commotion go on before a door slams shut. A heavy sigh left his lips.

"Strip for me." He says getting back to his conversation with you.

"You can't be serious!" You say refusing to move.

"Dead fuckin serious princess. You're gonna help me fix this problem you caused. Now strip."

His time didn't leave you room to argue. If anything all it did was send a massive amount of butterflies around your stomach. Placing your phone on speaker you sit it down 9n the bed beside you. Grabbing the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore and left it up and over your head letting it fall to the side. You hesitantly grab the band of your panties, unsure if you really want to pull them away from your body.

"Those too." He remarks.

It was like he knew ew exactly what was going through your mind.

You pull them down off of your hips and sit back down on your ass, pulling the garment down and off of your legs. Clear strings connect you to the lace as you pull them away from your body.

Evidence of just how aroused you had become.

"I, I've never done this before." You say softly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious again.

"You have the best hero here to walk you through it." He coos. "I know you have toys princess, so grab your favorite one and lay back for me."

You couldn't even be bothered to feel embarrassed as he calls you out. Reaching over you open your bedside table, pulling out your favorite vibrator. Doing as you told you lay back in bed and hit the power button. Letting him hear the soft buzzing sound come to life in your hand.

"Someone's eager aren't we?" He chuckles. "Close your eyes, and turn that shit off for now."

With a small huff, you follow his instructions, dropping the dildo to the side, and letting it roll to a stop by your ribs. Closing your eyes you wait for his next instruction.

"I want you to play with those pretty tits you keep hiding in those pictures."

It was automatic the way you let your hand roam from your sides and slowly cup your breasts. Feeling the heaviness of each one as you played around with them. Moaning when your nails dig into your nipples as you grab them. Rolling them around between your fingertips.

You can hear the soft hiss that leaves his mouth as you fondle your chest. Your hands itch to travel lower on your body. To finally touch yourself where you really wanted.

"Tell me what you're doing sweetheart."

"I'm wishing it was you touching me. Wish it was your hands exploring my body." You whine as you let your hand slip off your breasts and travel down your stomach.

"Bet you wish I was there. So you didn't have to play with yourself?"

"Yeah." You sigh as his voice carries through your room. Leading you to snake your hands further down your body, resting just out of reach of where you wanted to go.

"Bet you're fuckin soaked aren't ya?"

"Don't know. Haven't made it there yet."

"Oh but I bet you're awful close to it huh? Can't wait to dip those slutty little fingers into your cunt." He moans into the phones.

"Can I?" You ask whiny. You wanted nothing more than for him to give you permission.

"Yeah let me hear how pretty you sound when you touch that pussy of yours." He grunts.

As you feel the tip of your finger come into contact with your swollen bundle of nerves. You can't help but moan at the sensation. Relief finally floods your wound-up body.

"I'd have you screaming my name by now." He pants. "Legs pushed open as wide as they would go, bury my face right between your thighs. "

You whine as his words send a jolt of pleasure through your body. The sound of him fisting his cock was quick to fill the heated air that surrounded you. Sloppy and wet sounds echo off the walls of your bedroom. Mixing with your own wanton cries of pleasure.

"Yes," you breathe. "Want it. Want it so bad."

"Grab that toy and fuck yourself for me, baby."

Usually, you tried to prep yourself a little bit before you could take the whole thing. But right now you wanted nothing more than to fill yourself being filled. Hitting the power button you use your free hand to guide it to your leaking entrance. Your other hand still making soft circles on your clit.

"Oh fuck." You whine and your back arches as you slip the vibrating silicone inside yourself.

"You sound so pretty, baby. God, you don't know how bad I wanna bury my cock so deep inside that tight little cunt of yours."

You can hear his moans picking up along with yours as you set a fast pace. Already ready to hit that high. He had you teetering on the edge already just from his voice alone.

"Want you so bad." You moan as you hit that sweet spot inside yourself. Your walls flutter around as you kick up the speed on your vibrator.

"You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" He pants heavily into the receiver. "Gonna let me hear you cry out for me?"

"Wanna cum so bad." You gasp as you force your hand to speed up. Fingers work your clit faster as you feel that coil in the pit of your stomach starts to wind tighter.

"I can hear how fuckin wet you are. Fuck, wanna see it in person."

"Wish you were here" You whine feeling yourself start to tip over the edge.

Your pace picks up as you hear his moans grow louder with each passing second. Both of you working yourself in tandem with the end goal to fall over that edge together.

"Wanna fill you up with my cum, let everyone know just who you belong to sweet girl."

His words started short circuit your brain. Each and every syllable is laced with heated desire and want for you. Meeting your whiny and breathy moans of need. With deep guttural ones of his own as his filthy mouth kept talking.

"Get you clawin' my back and bitin' my neck. Make you cry as your bouncin' on my cock."

The image that flashes through your mind was your undoing.

You could picture it now. Those big strong hands gripping the fattest parts of your hips, and he helps you ride his massive cock. Helping you to move when your legs start to get tired. How he would grab your ass and jackhammer himself into you from below.

While he kept a smirk on his face.

He would be the type that liked to watch every face you made. How your eyes would close and your eyebrows would scrunch together and he forced himself as deep as he could go. He would have you whining and begging for him to let you cum. All while he kept that mean sultry tone in his voice.

You can imagine the way his lips would feel as he latched onto your neck. How he seemed like he would nip and Bite at your skin. Leaving purple marks littered down your throat all the way to your breasts. Eager mouth open and ready to latch onto your nipple and suck greedily as your hands shoot into his hair.

Your body is unable to keep up with the pace you set. Your body thrown into a fast-track orgasm quicker than you have ever been able to before. Back arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Hand still pumping your vibrator in and out of yourself. Feeling the slick material rub against your clenched walls.

"Have half the mind to come fuck you right now." He moans into the receiver, his hand moving faster on his cock. "Show You how good I can be to you."

"Fuck I'm coming!" You cry out, unable to keep either of your hands moving any longer. With A wet plop, your vibrator falls out of you and hits the bed, rolling under your ass. The hand at your clit falls to the side as you breathe through your high.

"Good fuckin girl!"

It was the most seductive thing you have ever heard in your life. His voice cracked from his heavy baritone brashness to an almost high-pitched whine. Breathy and full of pent up emotions as he milks himself for everything he is worth. Letting the sound carry into your mind and take up permanent residence.

Spent you rolling onto your side and closing your eyes. His heavy pants are still filling the air as you try to bring your body back down from such an intense high. The room is quiet as you both take a moment to catch your breath. A smile plastered on your face as you marinate in your euphoria.

You. A t help but giggle as you reach for the vibrator and finally shut it off. Feeling your ass land in the huge wet puddle beneath you, causing you to giggle.

"Find something funny sweetheart?" He asks as your giggle trails off.

"I made a mess." You tell him, and can't help but toss the vibrator to the other side of the bed just as your giggles kick back up.

"Yeah?" He asks. "Lemme see."

Quickly grabbing your phone, you snap a picture of the huge wet spot on your sheets. The angle at the picture was taken to where he couldn't see your most private of areas. But still got the full picture of what had just happened.

"Fuck, your gonna make me hard all over again." He moans. And you can only ramp up your giggles as you imagine his eyes closing and his head falling back onto the pillows. Willing away another painful election from him seeing the mess you managed to make.

But for some reason, you desperately wanted to see it in person. To be able to look into his eyes as he starts to fall apart so easily. That rough demeanor cracking all over little Ole you.

"It's your fault." You lightly accuse him.

"It's your fault for being a tease." He is quick to argue.

"Me? I don't tease!"

"From that first fuckin phone call you've been stuck in my brain. I can't shake you no matter what I do." He admits with a laugh. "That sweet little voice and smart-ass mouth, you know exactly what you were doing to reel me in."

Did he really think that about you? Weird quirkless little you? The one who hasn't had a date in years and has become such a homebody outside of work. Trading in your cute outfits for pajamas and slippers.

No, that just proved he didn't know anything about you.

"You forgot I don't know who you are. You're giving me more credit than I deserve."

"You still playin' dumb huh?" He asks with humor in his voice. "That's fine. Bet I can fuck some sense back into you once I get home."

"Stop!" You whine. "You can't tease me like that!"

"Tell me again how much you don't mean guys." He goads. "You can do it, my little crybaby."

"I've only got eyes for one mean man in my life." you counter him playfully.

"That so?" He muses." Tell me more about him."

You giggle for a moment while you play along with his antics. You can only describe him so much, but you remember how he tried to tease you with the number two pro hero not too long ago. Deciding now would be the perfect time to get back at him. Using angry looking blonde as payback.

"Well for starters." You say with a giggle. "He's tall."

"What else?"

"Spiky blonde hair, and these gorgeous red eyes. Looks like an asshole, but probably is a total softie." You dramatically sigh before you continue. "He's got these big hands and all those muscles! Too bad he let his friend save me the other day, instead of him."

"You like his hero costume?" He asks with a chuckle.

If he was jealous, he wasn't letting it be known. He was playing along with your little antics, and you seem to think he was enjoying it a bit.

"Oh yeah. The black and orange combo gives me Halloween vibes ya know. Not to mention just how tight it is. No wonder he has all the ladies swooning over him."

"Maybe we should get him to send you some of his merch. Bet you would look good In Something of his since you're so obsessed."

"I'm sorry! I can't hear you over the sound of the wedding bells!" You laugh. Playing up the fabricated daydream. And wouldn't you know it, he for the first time gives you an actual laugh. Loud and he let out a snort as he gasped for air. It was actually one of the cutest things you have ever got to hear in your entire life.

"When's the date? I'll have to make sure I show up for it." He snickers.

"Oh you know I still gotta pick out the dress and choose the colors. But my roommate is handling everything else!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, she even picked out the house with the white picket fence in the burbs. Already on her way to pick up the new dog." You are barely able to control yourself as you ramble on about your mock wedding. "And she already picked out the names for the kids!"

"Well shit, what do you need from me? Seems like it's already set in stone." He laughs.

"Could you convince him to say yes already?" You sigh. "Seems like he's a little hard to get a hold of these days."

It's funny because even on your most confident day you wouldn't even be able to look Dynamight in the face. Let alone joke with him like this.

That was part of the reason why you were so easily taken to your mystery man. You could be yourself, and he actually was able to do the same. He didn't care you had just made up a wild story about the number two pro hero. Especially right after he pulled such an intense orgasm out of you. If anything he was a good sport and played along. Still more than willing to listen to your half-baked musings, and still didn't feel jealous.

"You at least want a date first? Or are you going in for the kill?" His playful words echo in your ear.

You could get used to this. Use to this guy right here, he was just about everything you wanted out of life. He was able to meet your attitude with one just as fiery. Quick-witted and smart. Dedicated to his job and only a little stubborn.

"I mean I know he is super busy saving the world and all. But I won't turn down a date."

"How bout when I get back I'll take you on one then?"

"How dare you! I'm a taken woman!" You laugh. "do you really wanna take me out?"

"Princess, if I get the chance I'll do more than that."

And the way he said it made you shiver. You had no doubt that he would keep that promise if he got the chance. And who were you to deny such a request? The chance of finally meeting your mystery man has become too hard to ignore.

"Guess I could make room for another mean man in my life, just don't tell my future husband!"

"Good girl. Knew you'd see it my way."

In the midst of your good time, you did hear him start to yawn. You almost forgot that he wasn't home, but out in some hotel room hundreds of miles away from his own bed. He probably spent the past two weeks fighting off every villain he could find, not taking a minute to rest. Not to mention the little stunt he just pulled no doubt took its toll on his already exhausted body.

"Maybe you should get to bed, you sound tired." You say softly.

"M' always tired," He says just as another yawn wracks his body. "Call you when I get back?"

"Get home safe ok. Don't make me worry about you." You say sweetly.

"I'll be extra careful, just so I can see your beautiful face in person."

And you blush deep and hard at his words. It was one thing to flirt and make you cum over the phone. But it was completely different to hear him say something so nice. His tone still carries a bit of that playfulness. He couldn't be that sweet to you and not expect you to melt from his words.

"Goodnight and I mean it be safe!"

"Night crybaby."

It takes you a few minutes before you are able to roll yourself out of bed. And hobble into your bathroom to clean yourself up. But the entire time your head is swimming with the lingering effects of your mystery hero. He had you feeling lighthearted and giggling at the chance to finally be able to meet him in person. Learn what his name was, where he was from and every other little detail you could manage to squeeze out of him.

And as much as you feared for your previously broken heart. You were more excited for the opportunity to let it learn to love once again.

Finding a new set of panties and feeling around for your discarded shirt. You make quick work of changing your sheets and getting redressed. More than happy to fall into your bed, where you felt just a little more appreciated than you had before.

It was easy to drift off into a peaceful slumber when the thought of new love had you feeling giddy. Excited for the first time in forever.

Now it was only a waiting game until you would be able to meet him.

Taglist:

@levyasakura @fixed211 @antiwhores @yikes077 @trash-heichou-kacchan @dynakats @fallingmoon02 @ghastly-san @seabass17 @princessru1 @dabi-is-life @rinthewriter @jajahahbsba @aki-pringle @bkgsbabycake @theredtater06 @theycallme-becky @bitchyzombienacho @my-horniness-is-a-flaw @privthemis @mehnotenoughtime @kodzum1 @call-memissbrightside @madam-ri @levi-poe1 @the2ndl @mary-jinx @mary-jinx @hypernovaxx @purplepotato13 @chaichaiiskai @sumztrix @nonomesupposedto @garnet-redtailedhero @tatertotsarebomb @ahahadumbo @twisteddaydreams1135 @lilapark1030 @deadpoolsvodka @bokutosnumberonefan

i need to know every language immediately

meadow afterglow

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

cw: fluff everyone !! pro hero bakugou, gender neutral reader, reader is a florist and owns a flower shop, reader loves flowers/plants/nature, swearing ofc, brief violence (attempted assault on reader from some strangers), awkward katsuki hours incoming- he’s super whipped but helpless, i switch povs from bakugou to reader often, tiny bit of angst.. some misunderstanding—both bakugou and reader are idiots that can’t communicate

wc: 5.2k words

analysis: bakugou fucking hates flowers—they’re too fragrant, too cliché, too romantic. and yet, he finds himself always coming back to the same flower shop once his shift ends.

———

bakugou katsuki doesn’t like flowers. hates them, despises them—loathes them even! flowers just aren’t his thing.

when they came along with prizes (where he won first place of course), he’d always snort and throw them away in some trashcan once he could.

when kids back in his middle and high school days were brave enough to make a move on him, he’d send a spark from his palm and ultimately burn their flowers (and hopes) away.

he does the exact same thing to this day with his fans if they were perhaps lucky enough to encounter him during his patrols. (it looks bad when the press covers it obviously and that’s only one problem his pr team deals with.)

so yeah, in conclusion: bakugou isn’t particularly fond of flowers. it’s one of his many supposedly unpleasant traits—not that he really cares. now, he’s changed in these past years, truly, but he’s still maintained some of the roughness of his personality.

‘cause when you think of pro hero dynamight, number two on the hero charts (interchangeably with number one pro hero deku), you don’t think of flowers.

but… here he is. it’s just around thirty minutes past six in the evening, the ropes of dusk in the sky evident as the city prepares for nightlife. his shift had ended a while ago, but everyday, on the way home, he makes sure to stop by a small shop. a flower shop of all places. and bakugou katsuki hates flo- yeah, you get the point.

he doesn’t even know why he hesitates going entering the shop—he’s pretty damn sure you can spot him from outside. his visits are expected. the sound of the dainty bell ringing reaches his ears as he walks in.

“back so soon, dynamight?”

he grunts and turns his head away, sharply avoiding your gaze so you miss the squinting of his red eyes. you’re behind the counter as usual, fixing the arrangement of some daisies in their pots.

his cheeks burn but he’s lingering by the entrance, feigning his attention on the shelves decked with plants so you don’t see any blush. “yeah, yeah.. jus’ give me some damn flowers already,” he demands gruffly.

the sound of you briefly laughing has his head whipping back to you almost instantly. he catches the sight of you lightly shaking your head in amusement.

“anything like usual then, dynamight?”

fuck, he can’t help but wonder what his actual name would sound like off your tongue. it’s always been dynamight this, dynamight that—and while he certainly doesn’t mind, he just can’t help but wonder. when you tilt your head at him, he realizes he had been staring. he clears his throat. “yeah, whatever.”

finally, he walks toward the counter, moving around the small display tables topped with a pretty arrangement of succulents as you beam at him.

“alrighty then!” you clasp your head together, nodding for a bit. “i hope you don’t mind tulips then. we got a fresh new batch so they should just do fine!”

he nods in acknowledgement. “yeah, that’s fine f’me,” he huffs. and as you send him another smile and you dismiss yourself to the back to fetch said tulips, he can’t help but think about your first meeting.

it had been a week or two ago. a usual day of kicking ass was over and he was just on the way home until longtime friend kirishima eijiro called in a favor—he had practically begged bakugou to grab him some flowers for his date with mina since he was running late.

begrudgingly, katsuki had agreed, insisting only because the redhead was being so damn annoying. and so he pulled in to the first flower shop he saw—yours. he had stormed in and just demanded for a bouquet and the rest was history.

he found himself coming back even though he didn’t even need fucking flowers. (at first, he tells himself it’s because he’s got nothing better to do. and then he convinces himself it’s just to ensure the safety of another civilian, since you close nearing nighttime and walk home. and then he can’t lie to himself anymore that he finds you a tad bit .. cute.)

when you return, he breaks out of his reminiscing and looks back to you, blinking expectantly. “here you go!” you chirp, presenting the tucked tulips in some wrapper.

he’s grabbing his wallet from his pocket with a huff. “right.” he can feel your gaze on him patiently and he almost fumbles with his hands. (how embarrassing—he’s done this so many times too.)

and when you exchange the amount of money for the flowers, the briefest of touches from your hands makes him stutter in his movements just subtly. once the flowers are with him, he can smell its scent and he wants to sneeze.

he brushes it off and raises a brow at you. he wants to say something, maybe tell how endearing it is to see how your name tag is lopsided on your shirt and your wrinkled work apron has some stains of dirt on it. but instead, he says- “go home, dumbass.”

he knows you’re used to his rather blunt comments and words, but he swears he can feel the tips of his ears burn with a scorch as you snort and giggle in amusement. “i could tell you the same thing, dynamight,” you say back.

the flowers shift in his hold and he eyes the counter for two seconds to regain himself as he clears his throat and scoffs. “i meant- it gets dark faster nowadays, ‘kay? go home.”

you salute him playfully. “of course. you know i don’t close up the shop until you leave. you’re my last customer, dynamight.” (he knows.) “drive safe!”

“mhm.” he grunts and decides to take his leave before he makes a fool of himself. you wave him goodbye enthusiastically as he exits your shop and gets back into his car.

and when he returns to his apartment, he places his tulips with the rest of the flowers safely.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

the morning is just creeping into the starting hours of noon—it gets a bit busier around this time with people in the city. peak business hour because sometimes, there’s always that one person who’s looking for some flowers or the perfect plant.

but right now, your shop is empty. the wafting scent of roses newly perched on the side counter fills the air but you don’t mind it as you sweep some fallen leaves from the floor.

you had turned on the small tv hooked up in the corner of the ceiling for some background noise, humming to yourself to pass time, but its current broadcast catches your attention.

“pro hero dynamight is on the scene of the ongoing shionosu bank robbery with the help of some sidekicks and-”

you abandon your sweeping to watch the small, short-lived clips of the robbery the news station has to offer, but seeing the familiar red-eyed blonde on screen has you feeling all fluttery.

you fingers tighten around the broomstick and you shake your head to yourself. you had somewhat gotten attached to the explosive hero throughout his daily visits—his honest and brash presentation may be off putting to others but you don’t mind. he’s like a literal explosion in your little life. you like to think that your plants enjoy his company.

besides, it’s sort of cute knowing that such an aggressive man had the time to stop by your shop nearly every single day to buy some flowers. and then you shake your head again—he was buying flowers, most likely for someone he was seeing.

you can still remember your first meeting with him like it was yesterday. man had strutted into your shop like he owned it and ordered you to give him some flowers. something along the lines of “oi! you still open? get me some shit for a date or something!” and that’s how it happened.

you wouldn’t change whatever this.. relationship you had with the pro hero for the world but it did hurt a little, knowing he was coming to your shop for your flowers only to give them to someone else. why else did he buy them?

the sound of his voice from the tv has you perking up and you’re quite embarrassed of yourself by the the effect he has on you, even on a damn screen.

“hah? just some fuckin’ d-list criminals who chose the wrong day to rob a bank,” he barks at the reporter, “you really think i couldn’t handle those shits?” of course, his words are poorly censored and you can’t help but laugh.

yeah, you’re okay with what you have. you’re happy that you can somewhat see another side of dynamight through your little exchanges.

the bell ringing then diverts your attention away from the tv and you politely greet an elderly lady walking in. you place aside the broom and head back behind the counter, content with knowing that you’ll see him later today.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou comes in during his usual time, casual clothes only slightly rumpled since he had been in a hurry to make sure to make it before you closed up the shop.

and there you are as always, behind the counter with a sweet smile. “good evening, dynamight!”

he sighs quietly, taking in the calm and scenery of your shop. it’s a welcomed contrast after the hectic events of today—annoying criminals thinking they could take him down and even more annoying reporters with nosy questions.

“hey.” he grunts, then asks curiously, “how was your day?” he decides to ignore how pleasant surprise flicks over your face by roaming through the shelves on the side.

“it was pretty good,” you hum in reply. there’s a pause and then you add, “i saw you on tv today. a robbery, huh?”

the realization that you saw him in action on screen makes his cheeks heat up for some reason but he plays it cool, peering at you from behind one of the shelves. “oh, yeah,” he chuffs, “impressed?”

you giggle to yourself, crossing your arms as you observe him. “impressed by how they somehow managed to censor you, that’s for sure.”

katsuki winces only subtly and rolls his eyes as he comes out from behind the shelving to approach the counter. “yeah, yeah. pretty sure my pr team is gonna try ‘n whoop my ass again for that.” he barks out a rough laugh. “as if they could.”

you tilt your head back as you laugh with him, and fuck, he thinks he can watch you laugh all day. it’s music to his ears. “right,” you snort, “they can try, huh?”

he straightens his shirt somewhat, noticing the obvious wrinkles on them. “oh, yeah. you watch me the whole time?” he’s teasing.

“you wish,” you banter back, now uncrossing your arms to drum your fingers on the table absentmindedly. “this woman came in for some flowers. she was so kind- i gave her some delphiniums!”

he tilts his head, brows furrowing. “delphi-what now?” he huffs, leaning against the counter as he watches you brighten up. (damn, are you cute. but he’s not gonna say that out loud.)

“delphiniums are pretty.” you sigh and then start to ramble, “i gave her some royal larkspurs. pretty easy to take care of at the start! they usually symbolize dignity and grace, amongst some other things like sincerity, dedication- oh, i’m talking too much, aren’t i?” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “you’re just here for some flowers, sorry. uh, just anything like usual?”

bakugou blinks and chuckles softly. “nah, don’ worry. like hearing you talk.” shit, did he really say that? he straightens his posture and clears his throat, trying to act all nonchalant. “and uh, actually- i’ll take the larkspurs or whatever.”

you gaze is wide before you nod with a bright smile. “larkspurs it is.”

later that night, he adds those beautiful arching flowers of blue with his growing collection, another reminder of you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

god, how bakugou hates commission meetings with a passion. what he hates even more is waiting for them to actually start. ‘cause that means he actually has to socialize with his fellow colleagues.

like fucking deku here.

most of the heroes are lingering around the long table, and here’s his childhood friend, rambling on with the familiar faces of half ‘n half bastard and round cheeks, and they’re entirely invested with his current dilemma. “i just don’t know what to get her! i’m overthinking this, right? just a simple gift or some flowers could do, right?”

ochako pats midoriya’s shoulder reassuringly, saying, “you shouldn’t worry about it too much, deku. i’m sure your mom would love anything you get her!”

deku shakes his head as he continues mumbling in thought. even after all these years, the nerd never lost some of his annoying traits, much to bakugou’s irritation. old habits die hard, he supposes. (however, when you ramble, he finds that he doesn’t want you to stop.)

some of the others are joining in on the conversation to pass time—there’s fucking both dunce face and soy sauce face and he’s pretty sure he’s one second away from blowing the shit out of all of ‘em. how the hell did he tolerate them in high school?

before icyhot can open his mouth and surely say something idiotic, bakugou groans and turns in his chair to face them, dragging a hand over his face. “oh, for the love of- can you shut your trap already? jus’ get her some larkspurs or some shit.”

fuckin’ nerd looks at him all curious and interested, and he’s got the attention of the others now as well. “larkspurs, kacchan?” deku questions.

“yeah,” he huffs, turning his gaze away. he recites their meaning he had learned from you instinctively, crossing his arms and kicking his feet up onto the table.

denki then speaks up, “woah, kacchan. since when were you a flower expert?” the electric hero grins and leans forward and the others are obviously interested too.

“fuck off!” katsuki snaps roughly, “i ain’t no expert on some damn flowers. hate those fuckin’ things.”

he grumbles when the others laugh and continue to tease him whilst deku thanks him profusely. yeah—he’s still a damn nerd.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

it’s another day of business. still midday, with the sun taking its place in the high in the sky. the afternoons aren’t as hot anymore, and you know you should start to move some of the display plants outside back inside but you’ll get to that later.

a lovely couple had left earlier with their desired flowers for their upcoming wedding and you had happily aided them. once they had left, you decided to take a small break, slouching on the counter.

you can’t help but let your thoughts drift back to a certain blonde. judging how he really didn’t care what flowers he got—other than the time he had asked for the larkspurs—you guessed his partner really didn’t mind the type of flowers they received either.

and as if your thoughts had summoned him, the bell rings and the door opens to reveal the man plaguing your mind, fully decked out in his hero costume.

“d-dynamight?” you yelp in surprise, immediately fixing your posture as you stare at him. he only comes at the end of the day, after his work is over and yours is nearly done—what the hell is he doing here? in the afternoon?

“ya busy?” bakugou grunts, making his way in without any further words.

he looks so out of place here—brandished armor and heavy duty boots sounding heavy on the floor. you’re pretty sure he almost knocked over the shelves with how big his gauntlets are. he looks made for battle but here he is, standing expectantly, surrounded by flowers and plants.

“um- um, no?” you then shake your head. “what’re you doing here? not that i mind! it’s just.. you’ve never come in the middle of the day before! what if someone sees you?”

he makes sure his grenadier bracers don’t actually knock down your hard work of arrangements, looking to you. “s’why i’m gonna be quick, idiot. can’t come later tonight so ‘m here now.”

“o-oh! of course.” you rush around the counter to pick something simple to offer to him, since he doesn’t seem to care again on what he’ll receive. you’re aware of his eyes following you as you grab some false indigos for a bundle.

“stay safe out there, dynamight,” you bid him, holding out the flowers for him to take. “i’ll see you some other time then?” you hate how hopeful you sound.

his red irises linger on you for a couple of seconds before he nods and pays up. “yeah, you will. you stay safe, idiot.“

his words make you feel warm—with the false indigos now with him, you simply smile. you won’t tell him that they symbolize protection; maybe he can learn that another day.

(later on, you see a media outlight that reads PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN WITH FLOWERS… HAS HE FOUND A PARTNER? and you hate how the title makes your stomach churn with jealousy—but seeing your flowers tucked delicately in his arms is worth it.)

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou actually doesn’t get to see you for a couple of days. there had been a change in his schedule and he had been assigned for some overnight shifts along with some other heroes in another district due to the rise of criminal activity there.

but he’s back now, thankfully, and he’s antsy to see you after all this time. (mind you, it’s only been three or four days. smitten, he is, for the attractive florist that supplies him with flowers even though he claims he hates them. on a side note, he hopes his assistant had taken good care of the false indigos he had placed in his office.)

so as he drives down the familiar street, katsuki can’t help but wonder if you still wait for him so you can close the shop. it has been a while since his last appearance that one early afternoon, so even though he wouldn’t be surprised that you don’t, he couldn’t lie and say he’d be a bit disappointed.

but as he pulls in into the parking lot, he’s furious.

you had just closed the shop, not even a few feet away from the door as a gang of looming strangers crowd in towards you, all hunched and shady as you match their stares warily.

katsuki isn’t sure he’s moved faster than he has in his life—he’s scrambling out of the car to help you when you manage to land a sucker punch square into one of the asshole’s jaws. with your flank exposed, another one lunges for you and you scream.

“you fucker!” he snarls and he reaches you in record time, the one you had already knocked to the side being met with an accurately aimed kick to the gut from his boot before he sends an explosion that has the remaining three flying.

when bakugou sees that none of them are making an effort to get up, he slips out of his offensive stance and immediately turns to you in concern, eyes roaming for any injuries. “are you hurt? did they touch you?” he demands, brows furrowed. “i’m-”

he falters when you simply stare at him in awe. the silence between you two is deafening and he doesn’t know how to interpret it. he starts, worried, “hey, are you-”

you arms wrapping him around has him inhaling sharply. his arms linger, unsure of what to do but he accepts your embrace delicately. “thank you, dynamight,” you murmur after a moment, still holding him.

he breathes softly, and he’s all quiet when he speaks again. “..it’s bakugou to you,” he tells you gruffly, “got it?”

his words have caught you by surprise—he knows it by the way your eyes widen when you pull back to look at him. he meets your stare readily.

“thank you, bakugou,” you say gently, and his gaze softens. (hearing his name roll off your tongue is something he can get used to, he decides.)

he then chuckles, all fond. “remind me not to get you mad. that punch looked nasty.”

you laugh genuinely, and katsuki can’t help but think about how much he missed hearing it.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

bakugou drives you home every night from then on.

you had no problem before, as your apartment building isn’t that far off, perhaps a fifteen minute walk, pushing ten if you jogged a little, and that was something you could manage. until the incident a couple weeks ago.

you definitely feel safer with him escorting you, even when you did protest that he didn’t have to waste his time driving to your shop, waiting for you to close and then dropping you off at your apartment—but he insisted. like, almost put you in a headlock if your dumbass didn’t listen insisted. (he still buys flowers every time too.)

and as giddy as it made you to spend more time with the pro hero, the reminder that he was supposedly taken was enough for you to know your limits. he’s simply doing his job—protecting people, s’all.

but in moments like this, you think you can selfishly enjoy yourself.

he’s blasting his music—some sort of punk rock that you can’t deny is pretty catchy—with his newly acquired lilacs resting on the center console for him to take home. it’s a bit silly, hearing such vulgar lyrics in the background as the petals of the magenta flowers shake slightly.

“you’ll enjoy your new home with bakugou, won’t you?” you coo at the plant, brushing your fingers over it tenderly. “he’ll take good care of you, i’m sure.”

bakugou’s got one hand on the wheel and he casts you an amused glance. as the car approaches a red light, he turns down the music and snorts. “are you seriously talking to the fuckin’ flowers?”

you lightly glare at him, a smile quirking up on the corners of your lips. “it helps them grow when you talk to ‘em nicely!”

“oh, yeah?” he raises a brow, snorting again—but he’s got an amused smirk on his face now as he focuses back on driving. “i’ll keep that in mind then, idiot.”

you sneak subtle side glances at him the rest of the ride, admiring his beauty—so close yet so far.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

this is so fucking stupid, bakugou thinks. he should be buying flowers for you, not from you—or whatever couples do nowadays to please their partners. but here he is, back again. even if he is your drive home, this weird tradition of buying your flowers he had gotten accustomed is getting old. he just hopes you’re getting the hint that he’s not exactly here for the flowers.

katsuki doesn’t even bother announcing himself when he doesn’t see you behind the counter—you’re probably somewhere in the back tidying up some final things so you can leave, so he starts looking for something to buy already.

“hey, got anything new f’me to buy?” he calls out then, and he hears some rustling from the back room. he figures he might help you out so without much thought, he saunters around the counter, following the noise of your muffled movements.

your voice rings out, “yeah, i do! just lemme-” way closer than before and just as he enters the doorway of the backroom, you appear—walking right into him.

now, obviously he’s a wall. lean and fine muscle make up his body—and you crash into him, yelping when you stumble back in surprise.

bakugou’s reflexes are quick and he manages to catch you in time—his arm dips low and braces the small of your back before you can fall over. “fuckin’ idiot,” he huffs out, “be careful.”

“hey!” you cry out in protest, “you’re the one who was standing there! for someone so loud, you sure are stealthy.”

“ah? i can be plenty fucking stealthy!” he argues, voice booming against the walls and proving your point.

you giggle at that—and that’s when katsuki realizes you’re both so fucking close. he can see the shape of your lips and the way your eyes gleam in the lighting from above. he freezes.

you seem to realize it too, falling silent for a couple of heartbeats. bakugou clears his throat and lets you go. “alright, brat. gonna give me my flowers so we can fuckin’ leave already?”

he thinks he sees your shoulders relax and fall down before you nod and brush past him. “yeah, of course.”

he scoffs and follows you, wondering what it’d be like to kiss you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

you twiddle with some ribbons laced around some pottery, trying to redo some decorations on them since you can spare some time.

bakugou had come in a little early for you to close up, so he waiting for you to finish, casually leaning on the counter as he observes the store. okay, well- you’re not exactly sure what he’s doing, since he’s probably memorized the entire layout of your small area of the building by now because of how many times he’s been here.

you’re humming idly to yourself, the tv flicked on to some music ambience channel to full in the quiet air anytime bakugou isn’t striking up a conversation. he’s been silent for a while now.

“what’s a person’s ideal date?”

you nearly drop a vase. obviously, the question surprises you. it should, you think, since this is a pro hero who’s been coming to your flower shop for over a month or two now, supposedly getting flowers for his significant other—even if he does linger around longer than he should and drives you home—and he’s asking you on what someone’s ideal date is? this.. doesn’t make any sense.

“well...” you begin reluctantly, unsure of where this is leading, and even more unsure on how to actually answer. “it depends on the person, bakugou.”

the blonde simply clicks his tongue and his eyes meet yours.

“okay then. what’s your ideal date?”

just when you think he can’t surprise you any further, he does. you’re pretty sure you eyes nearly bug out of their sockets as you set the vase aside so you don’t actually drop it. “huh?”

“you heard me, dumbass,” katsuki scoffs with a roll of his eyes and you want to disappear into the floor. “what’s your ideal date?”

your throat suddenly feels dry. “i’m, uh, not the best person to ask for romantic advice, bakugou,” you warn, trying to be all teasing as you laugh anxiously. you do not want to help him plan out a date—you’d rather throw yourself into the sun.

“‘m serious, brat,” bakugou grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at you. you can’t read him, usually you can’t, but his eyes are warm. “tell me.”

you continue fiddling with some ribbons as you glance away to contemplate. “well.. a- a picnic date would be nice. with some of my favorite foods, maybe. it’d probably be out in some meadow. just.. a nice, open meadow where you can see flowers for miles.” you sigh dreamily.

it’s quiet again and then you glance back to him, stammering, “but- but that’s just my preference! i dunno if the person you’re seeing would like that ‘n stuff. everyone’s different, y’know?”

suddenly he’s got his confused scowl on his face, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. oh god, did you offend him in some way? say something awful? what if you-

“hah?” bakugou snaps, voice colored in disbelief, “who the hell said i was seeing someone?”

what? now it’s your turn to be utterly confused, and you stare at him with wide eyes. “you’re not- you’re not seeing someone? dating someone?” you inquire, puzzled.

“no, dumbass!” he barks out, “i’m not- where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

you blink once, twice. “you!” you cry out, saying, “when you came in here for the very first time, you asked me to get you flowers for a date!”

bakugou’s eyes widen and then he’s taking steps towards you. “not a date for me, dumbass! my friend asked me to get him flowers for his date!”

you mind spins with the new information but you’re still so confused, still in denial—you shake your head. “but- but.. why else would you come in for flowers every single day?”

“because i wanted to see you!”

oh. the confession has your cheeks heating up. so… the blonde you’ve been harboring a massive crush on is, in fact, not seeing anyone, and is coming in every day to your flower shop to buy your flowers because he wants to see you?

bakugou stares at you, eyes all wide as if he can’t believe what he had just said aloud. his words are echoing in your head and you laugh a little. “you.. aren’t here for the flowers?” you say softly.

his gaze is all warm as he relaxes, and you can see the faint pink tingeing his cheeks. “no,” he confesses in a grumble, “..‘m here for you and your stupid dumbass.”

you laugh again, and he finally reaches you. his fingers twitch and slowly, you take his hands in yours. they feel a little warm, clumsy like he doesn’t know what to do with his fingers before they tighten around yours. “we really are idiots, huh?” when he glares at you softly, you add, “i like you too. just so you know.”

his blush is visible and oh so pretty now, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your words. and then he snorts, “good, ‘cus i’m gonna need some help takin’ care of all the stupid fuckin’ flowers at my apartment. it’s practically a shop now too.”

as he pulls you into a crushing hug, you burst into a fit of giggles.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“you forgot to water this one, you idiot!” katsuki calls from the corner of your shop, grumbling at some of the drooping crotons you brought in recently. “where the fuck did you put the watering can?”

you point to the counter, too occupied with fixing the succulents. “should be somewhere on the floor over there, suki,” you tell him. and as you watch him snatch the watering can and storm back over to the plants in need, you grin to yourself.

“thanks, katsuki,” you hum as you stand back up, “you’re a big help, y’know?”

he scoffs. “yeah, yeah.” as he tilts the watering can to spray the plants, he continues in a hushed voice. “what you would ‘lil fuckers do without me, ah?”

your heart does a flip. a month or so ago, you wouldn’t believe it if someone had told you that the pro hero dynamight would be in your shop taking care of your plants as he talks to them. but you know, you also wouldn’t have believed it if they had told you he’d be your boyfriend.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

and katsuki eventually does take you out on that ideal date once it gets warmer. a dainty picnic lunch with your favorite foods that he made from scratch in his very own kitchen in a heavenly meadow surrounded by flowers all around.

and it’s there, when he kisses you, that bakugou katsuki realizes that he doesn’t hate flowers. especially since he has the most gorgeous flower of them all—you.

Words of Advice - Part 2

Words of Advice – Part 2 (Finale)

Fic Summary: Months after being so spectacularly rejected by Lauren, Ralph finds his interests being drawn to the pretty new maid. Having no idea how to approach you, and not wanting to repeat mistakes of the past, he seeks advice from everyone and anyone who’ll provide it, which is probably not the wisest decision. (Part 1) Fics Masterpost. 

Fic Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Pairing: Virgin Ralph/Female Reader

Warnings: Canon Divergent, It’s Not Unrequited Love They’re Just Idiots, Mutual Pining, Attempts at Flirting, First Time, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Unprotected Sex

A/N: Thank you, thank you so much for all your wonderful comments!! Every reblog and reply made me smile like crazy. I loved writing these two. I also appreciate all the kind words on my post about taking time off. I still am, I just wanted to post this while I was in a good mood. Enjoy!

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i love when Oda wants to give Luffy a cool hat but obviously he can't get rid of the straw hat so he just starts stacking them

They’re dating, your honor

clicks on you and downloads you as a jpeg and puts you in a zip folder so youre safe and warm btw

You: “Tomura, I really like you… more than just colleagues. I feel so close to you and if you feel the same, I’d really like to be more than friends.“

Tomura: “What do you mean?… Aren’t we already dating?”

You: “Huh?”

Tomura: “Last month you let me hold your hand even though I could have hurt you.”

You: “You were dangling over a cliff and I pulled you back up.“

Tomura: “We kissed.”

You: “I gave you CPR.”

Tomura: “And it was great.”

Where’s My Language App? [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: Where’s My Language App? [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: You don’t know who he is. You don’t even know what he’s saying.

Just a short lil thing inspired by some recent posts from @stupid-sloot-headcanons​ on a darling with a language barrier.

Word Count: 1722

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, English-speaking reader/language barrier

You don’t know who he is. You don’t know why he took you. You don’t even know what he’s saying. Not that he’s said all that much since you woke up in a dimly lit room, arms bound in front of you tightly with rope that has gone from itchy to uncomfortable and now bordering on painful as your circulation has waned.

It’s been… three days? Four? You’re not sure. There’s nothing to accurately measure time with. Only the comings and goings of the man who kidnapped you, which don’t seem marked by any particular time of day, give you any sense of time passing.

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like real people do (eddie munson)

summary: you’ve known eddie for a few months now, but nearly every day you discover something new about him that breaks your heart and makes you desperate for him to know how much you care for him.

author’s note: eddie deserves soft and sweet and gentle love he deserves to be held and to feel loved and to be cared for and to know a life outside of the cruel world he was born into and i intend to give that to him one ~1.5k word fic at a time

pairing: eddie munson x reader (this one is gender neutral - no gendered terms used!!) word count: 1.4k warnings: hmmmmmm none

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How your friendship with Uncle Wayne develops as you're dating Eddie - timeline (headcanons)

GN! reader as always🥰💖

TW for smoking (Wayne).

Munson family (Wayne & Eddie) taglist: @hellfirebabes @eddiemunsonshoney

To start with, for a few weeks and months, you don't get to meet Wayne. He's the elusive uncle, the one who is always working at the plant by the time you and Eddie get back from Hellfire or a date. Eddie loves his uncle, anyone who hears him talk about Wayne can tell immediately, and it makes you extremely curious and excited for the day you get to meet him.

One day, you're making yourself and Eddie some food but there's more in there than what you can both eat in one meal. Eddie just assumes you accidentally made too much and figures you can eat the leftovers tomorrow, and while that's true, you also made extra on top of that so that Wayne had a meal to come home to in the morning. You leave a note on the container once the food is in the fridge, cooled. The note tells him what the food is, when it was made, and it's signed off with your name and a crooked smiley face.

One night when you're not there a few weeks later, Wayne asks Eddie about you. Eddie doesn't know where to begin so he just rambles out about how you are, how you treat him, your likes and loves, favourite music, and when he's done, slightly breathless, Wayne chuckles.

"I wanna meet the one able to make my boy smile like that."

Eddie's blushing so hard he almost matches the devil on his Hellfire Club shirt. Almost. Wayne wonders how many shades' difference there is. Decides he doesn't care because his Eddie is happy and that's all that matters to him. It's all he's ever wanted for his nephew; his kind, misunderstood boy.

It's decided that you'll meet on a night Wayne is at home; trying to meet someone new at 6am isn't gonna go well for anyone. You come over for coffee and a light chat with the Munsons, all of you camped out in the living room once Eddie is done with school and your own day, with whatever it is you do, is finished. Wayne sits on the lone kitchen stool (the one Eddie always trips over, even when he knows it's there) to sit opposite you and Eddie on the sofa. The TV is on but none of you are watching it; the ice doesn't really break until the first set of commercials, Eddie laughs at something and your breath audibly hitches as you gaze at him and the adoration and love in your eyes makes Wayne feel like perhaps he should look away from such intimacy. He relaxes around you in that moment, fully accepts you as Eddie's partner, knowing you make his boy happy but also that you genuinely care about and love Eddie.

He stands, offers you a drink, and learns that day how you like your favourite hot beverage; Eddie isn't asked because Wayne knows his tastes as easily as his own (the Munsons are not fussy and are closer knit than they may appear).

The act of making you a beverage is very much an extended olive branch. No one says it but you all know it. Wayne isn't a man of many words and his actions are where you'll hear him if you pay attention. He's not 'blink and miss it' but you do have to be aware.

Awkwardness between you and Wayne settles within just a few weeks and almost a month to the day you first met, you're friends. He makes you your favourite drink if he knows you're coming over (sometimes you'll get to Eddie's before he goes to school and you'll find hot drinks for the both of you in mugs; yours is always on the left because you come in that way and Eddie's is on the right because his bedroom is that way; it's logical and easy to remember for all involved). If you know he has a shift that night, you'll make him extra so he has a meal to come home to.

You were accepted wordlessly into the Munson family the first time Wayne saw you look at Eddie while smiling, but you don't hear that for yourself until almost a year into your relationship. It's not that you're left to doubt if he likes you or anything like that, but he just isn't verbal about his affection up until this point:

You find Wayne already waiting on the trailer steps as he smokes, blue eyes far away. You pause as you reach him and he pats the space beside him just once; if you want to, you can. Or you can walk up past him and go into the trailer. Your choice. But you love Wayne, you've been wanting to get to know him a bit more than the man you've always known as the one who took Eddie in and raised him as his own, and this is the perfect chance. Plus, you can tell he has something to say.

"Thank you for giving my boy a chance. I know my nephew looks dangerous - " you snorted lightly and Wayne gave you an amused look. Both thinking of Eddie simply being Eddie, and thinking:

Dangerous when??? To whom?

"Only to the sheep."

The familiar comment cracks the tension between you and Wayne shuffles over to sit closer.

"He's so beautiful, Wayne. I just... I tell him all the time that I love him but I don't know if he ever fully believes me. It makes me sad to think he doesn't know how - "

Wayne wraps an arm around your shoulder, sensing genuine upset at the possibility that Eddie doesn't know he's loved, and lets you lean into him. "He does know, Y/N. Give him time."

Wayne says nothing more and stays with you until you go back inside, then he carries on with what he was doing and that's that.

Eddie noted your moment together; he couldn't hear anything from his vantage point in his bedroom but he sees all the moments between you and Wayne and somehow it only makes him love the two of you more; happy that two of his most favourite people are getting along.

As time does pass and you and Eddie spend more of your lives together, things remain similarly with Wayne. He becomes your confidant if you don't want to tell Eddie something or can't for whatever reason (though if Wayne thinks it's something Eddie would need or want to know, then you're encouraged thusly), he's the one you go to if you want some company but Eddie is asleep or busy or unavailable, he's the one who makes you coffee and the one you make coffee for as you walk past each other, clinking mugs together in thanks, one leaving the trailer and one coming in as your day finishes but Wayne's starts for work...

Your relationship with Eddie and your friendship with Wayne develop at a very similar pace. As you become committed to a future with Eddie - whatever that means for you - Wayne starts to give you hugs, allows you to hug him, compliments you on the food you make and scrounges up food for you when he makes dinner for himself and Eddie. You truly become a Munson, in all ways and things, so slowly that you may not notice at first.

Until one night, Wayne makes a comment about the trailer holding three Munsons, and you freeze. So does Eddie, but he pulls himself together way faster and cracks a joke; the three of you laughing together becomes his favourite song. His voice breaks half way through the joke but no one addresses it; none of you need to. You all know what the conversation means.

Bottom line is, the Munsons know they all love each other.

The Freak’s Secret Admirer

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader wants to express her feelings for Eddie, except they’ve never spoken.

Content Warnings: fem!Reader, adult language, Jason Carver being a prick, sticky sweet fluff, and so much PDA.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It started in the middle of the first semester.

She stood at her locker, her chest tight in anticipation. She repeated her cycle of glancing nervously at his locker a few down from her own and back to the small slip of paper she held out of sight behind her door.

It was a simple piece of folded up notebook paper, ‘Eddie’ was written across the front in her prettiest script, followed by a pink heart sticker, hoping that would be enough to let him know it was from an actual person. She worried he would crumple it up immediately, given all of the cruelties he’d endured in his time at Hawkins High.

Y/n had been watching the Munson boy ever since she first saw him; his personality and theatrics captivating her immediately. Soon enough she found herself looking for his face in every hallway she turned down. She noticed the way her heart felt when she’d hear his bold laughter in the cafeteria, and she absolutely adored that his locker was three down from hers.

She loved seeing him when he was alone, his beauty really shining when he wasn’t doing anything at all.

In her mind, he had no idea she existed, but that was far from the truth.

She spent a good part of her time wishing he would spare a glance in her direction, but he never did. Y/n told herself it was because she wasn’t noticeable, and that she couldn’t blame him, but she didn’t know the panic he felt in his chest when he saw her figure in his peripherals.

‘Ignore it and it’ll go away.’ he’d think, the thought of another unrequited crush absolutely unbearable.

At the beginning of the second semester when they were at their lockers, pretending to not notice one another, it happened. They both shared the thought of sneaking a glance at the same time and when they made eye contact, she smiled at him. Eddie couldn’t help but return it, which made the pounding in her chest intensify.

‘Okay, okay, that’s enough, freak.’ The unfriendly voice echoed in his head. He snatched his attention back to the inside of his locker with a shy grimace and shut his door to hurry to Spanish class.

Her heart sank as she watched him withdrawal, wondering if it was her fault. That’s when she got her brilliant idea.

Which brings us back to this morning.

She hadn't seen any sign of Eddie yet and knew this would be her prime chance to deposit her note through the slot of his locker.

‘Every second that goes by is a second closer he gets to showing up.’ She reminded herself.

Y/n took a breath and looked over both shoulders before stepping over. She knew it was his immediately by the etched ‘FREAK’ below the number at the top, which made the corner of her mouth tug downward in a disappointed frown. She quickly slid the note through and jumped away, checking her surroundings again.

She sighed in relief at the sight of the still empty hallway, students still trickling in from the arriving buses.

“Absolutely not, Emerson, how could you possibly think that of me?!” Eddie’s voice echoed in feigned offense down the hall from a short distance. Y/n debated on fleeing or sticking around to see how he reacted to the note and prayed to the powers that be that he’d be alone when he read it.

Before she could make a run for it, Eddie rounded the corner with his friend Gareth, shooting the shit and laughing the whole trip down the hall, the sight made Y/n weak in the knees.

“Save me a seat?” Eddie asked Gareth as he departed from their route to their first class. Gareth shot him a thumbs up and disappeared through the door at the end of the hall.

Eddie spared Y/n a glance as he stepped up to his locker, admiring the way she chose to style her hair with accent braids. It made him think of Lord of the Rings and the elves he’s imagined from DnD, he thought of this as he dialed his combination in the lock and swung his locker open, his thoughts interrupted as he was greeted with a fluttering note landing with a thump down by his feet.

He didn’t think anything of it at first, receiving notes about meeting up for sales after school was a normal thing, but notes of business never had his name written with a heart beside it. The sight made his stomach plummet into his ass and his heart rise into his throat. This could either be good or bad.

Y/n watched on, Eddie too focused on her note to feel her stare. He unfolded it with a hard swallow and deep breath.

‘Before you throw this out, I wanted you to know that your antics are the highlight of my day. I kinda have a crush on you... I hope you have a good one ❤️‘

Eddie stood with his mouth ajar, absolutely dumbstruck at the three sentences in front of him.

‘Is this English? I’m reading this right, right??’ He wondered, bringing the note closer and then farther away, flipping it over in his hands a few times before folding it back up to view his name again.

No sender, of course. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. The note itself seemed genuine, the feeling it caused in his stomach was evident of the way it flattered him. But he so deeply feared that it was too good to be true.

It wouldn’t have been the first time he received a fake love note before, but it had been a while. Maybe he was due for another. Defeated, he sighed and shoved the note in his back pocket as he shut his locker and rushed to class. Y/n noticed the stiff expression he wore behind his blushing cheeks.

She felt a sense of accomplishment along with the nagging sensation that she was going to have to send a few more notes before he took her seriously.

The next morning, Eddie got to his locker before Y/n was able to, which made her job harder. Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t bummed that he wasn’t met by another note when he arrived, but he shrugged it off, knowing it was too good to be true.

Y/n kept her head down as she spun the green combination dial, not bothering to look up until she heard the sounds of Eddie’s friends at the other end of the hall. “Ed! Dude, you gotta come see this, the new freshman drew my tiefling!”

Eddie perked up at this, shutting his locker and running to catch up with the group that stepped just out of sight. Y/n rushed to open her notebook to a clean page and snatch up a pink pen from her cup in her door.

She jotted the short sentiment down, ripping out the page and folding it as she had the day before, printing his name and heart on the front.

The Hellfire Club’s antics were audible, some of the boys visible from around the corner. She kept her eyes on the doorway, preparing for the sight of his curly hair or white reeboks catching her in the act, or one of his faithful freshman pointing her out.

But what was the point of the notes if she didn’t want to be known? She couldn’t answer that question. She did want him to know it was her, but she feared rejection almost as badly as he did.

She shoved the note into the slot quickly and promptly turned on her heel to go the opposite direction, but not before Mike Wheeler caught a glimpse of dainty hands flying away from Eddie’s locker, and a head of hair whipping back around to disappear within the chaos of students.

The Wheeler boy chalked it up to another business transaction and dropped the matter immediately, though something felt off. “Wheeler, tell your boy Byers to come sit with Hellfire at lunch today, we’ve gotta greet our new member properly!” Eddie said pointedly as he clutched the paper depicting the horned creature of Gareth’s imagination. Mike lit up at this, taking the paper back from Eddie’s grasp as he went back to his locker.

Eddie wore a small content smile as he opened his locker again, but the note falling down in front of him wiped it from his face instantly. Again, he looked around him for any suspects that could be watching from a distances for shits and giggles.

To his delight, he didn’t spot anyone looking on in amusement, which allowed him to inspect the note closer. He flipped it over in his hands, spotting the similar style his name was scribbled in. He gave a quiet snort, the rushed handwriting tugged at his heart strings.

He dragged his index finger across the letters that made up his name, stopping at the pink heart beside it. Maybe it wasn’t too good to be true.

He unfolded it slowly, holding it inside of his locker to prevent any basketball douchebags from snatching it and using it against him.

‘Good morning, cutie! I hope Hawkins High is kind to you today. ❤️‘

This note had a bit more of an effect on him than the first one did, this one feeling more… real. He fought the urge to smile into his blush and press his lips to the heart she left him on the page, settling for keeping it in his pocket until he could slip it into his wallet unseen later.

The note kept grabbing his attention throughout the day, making concentrating on his work a smidge harder than usual. When he’d slip away to the bathroom now and then he’d find himself getting the note back out to read it again.

‘I hope Hawkins High is kind to you today.’ Made his heart do tricks he didn’t know it could do. He wanted to find the culprit, but he couldn’t say he was in a rush to do so.

He wanted this feeling to last as long as it could.

Y/n walked down the hall during a bathroom break when she noticed Eddie leaving the boys room, the note she wrote him curled in his hand as he stared down at it.

‘He likes it, he likes my note.’ She celebrated internally. Eddie’s gaze met hers, quickly shoving away the note in his pocket with a blank expression falling across his features and hurrying past.

Y/n smiled to herself as she entered the bathroom, excited to write him more.

The next day, Eddie planned to get to school as early as he could. Before bed he sat with the notes he’d received thus far, a soft smile plastered on his lips as he traced the creases in the paper from how many times he opened and refolded them.

He ran his finger over the indentions of the letters the pen left when the sender wrote his name. He folded them back up and stuck them under his pillow, hoping to find another note in the morning.

Sadly, Eddie’s plans to make it to school early were foiled from the moment he opened his eyes. Instead of his alarm going off, he was met with a stream of water hitting him in the face. He bolted upright in his bed, taking notice of the two other leaks in his room and the lack of power.

“Shit!” He realized the electricity cut off was today and he forgot to mail the check to the electric company last week. Eddie ran to the kitchen, seeking the seal tape for events such as these.

After temporarily fixing the problem, he only had 15 minutes to get ready and to the school. “Jesus H Fucking Christ.” He mumbled to himself.

He tried his best to not speed, praying he wouldn’t catch a fine for trying to get to school. Luckily, he made it unscathed, having time to catch the closing door of his first hour class.

Eddie was eager to get to his locker before the second period of the day, dialing his combination with his fingers quaking.

Y/n took the route to class that passed her locker and noticed Eddie in a rush to open his. She noticed the lack of his presence that morning and worried he may not show.

Eddie’s locker door flew open, and before Y/n was all the way past him, she swore she saw him grin at the note he caught with an expectant hand.

‘I’m persistent, what can I say? 🥰 I hope something good happens to you today.

P.S. I think you’re cute 🦋’

Eddie felt the fluttering in his chest and suddenly felt warmer. He quickly folded the note and placed it in his pocket, shutting his locker with a satisfied smile on his lips.

Y/n loved how she felt when she saw Eddie get happy from the notes she sent. She knew it wasn’t the same as if he knew who was sending them but knowing she made his day a little brighter made hers brighter too.

Y/n anxiously stood by her locker, looking around for any sign of the boy she admired. She sighed, relieved and opened her notebook to write him a new note.

‘Should I get more flirty? Can I be flirty?’ She wondered, shifting from one foot to the other and flipping the pen around her middle and index fingers.

‘Good morning ❤️ Did you know you make me laugh almost every day? Well you do. You also do a great job of making my heart beat faster every time I see you. Maybe sometime I’ll have that same effect on you.

I hope you have a good one ⭐️‘

She smiled as she placed the star sticker at the end of the sentence and ripped the page from the book. She folded it once before a familiar sleeved arm had shot over her shoulder to hit his hand against the locker beside her with a slam, “Bah!” He exclaimed, making her jump and turn around. While she was stunned, Jason took the opportunity to snatch the paper.

“Jason, please give it back,” Y/n quietly pleaded, her hand outstretched. Eddie stood at the edge of the scene, as a few other students gathered to look on, which made Y/n want to puke.

Eddie watched as her face began to turn red with panic and humiliation, knowing exactly how it felt to be in her shoes. Everything in him wanted to get involved except for the small part that still feared getting his ass beat by Jason and his friends yet again—but this time it would be in front of his crush.

“Aww, please give it back!” Andy shrilled mockingly. Y/n’s chest began to quiver with her shaking breaths. She tried to remember if she wrote his name in the note anywhere or if she wrote his name right on top.

“I-It’s my homework for—“

“That’s sweet but homework doesn’t have cute little stickers on it,” Jason began unfolding the paper and only glanced down at it before Chrissy’s enraged hand snatched it from him and handed it to back Y/n.

“Jason, what the hell is wrong with you? Like truly, how many times do you have to be reminded to not be an asshole? We’re done, for good.” She charged through the crowded hallway, putting distance between her and her now ex boyfriend before he could cry, “Chrissy wait, just hear me out, baby.” and take off after her.

Eddie’s eyes stayed on Y/n, who crumpled the paper in her hand and willed the tears in her eyes to go away. She slammed her locker closed and slung her bag over her shoulder, dropping the now ruined note into the trash can at the end of the hall on her way past, which Eddie was determined to retrieve.

‘Cute little stickers, huh?’ He wondered.

After a few moments, Eddie walked at an easy pace to seem nonchalant, when on the inside he wanted to sprint to the bin and dump it out to ravage through its contents.

When he reached the end of the hall, he looked over his shoulder to see how many people were about to watch the freak go through the trash, and luckily no one was paying him any mind.

The wadded paper sat on top unharmed, which made him want to pump his fist in celebration already. He reached in and snatched the note swiftly, walking towards his next class and flattening the note.

His heart about exploded when he saw the familiar roundness of her letters, but most of all, the stickers. He ducked into the bathroom to mull it all over privately.

‘Did you know you make me laugh almost every day? Well you do.’ He laughed softly and lovingly ran his fingers over the page, as if it were a physical extension of herself.

‘You also do a great job of making my heart beat faster every time I see you. Maybe sometime I’ll have that same effect on you.’ His breath caught in his throat, “Oh, sweetheart, you already do.” He mumbled.

‘I hope you have a good one ⭐️‘ He finished softly, sighing contently. Eddie cut his class; using the time to figure out how and when exactly he’d confess his love, and maybe smoke a joint, but he did know for one thing for certain; he wanted at least one more note.

Y/n did her best to forget about the incident with Jason, convincing herself that Chrissy intervened early enough before any real damage could be done.

She sat in the library for study hall with a few others in her class. Each person had a table to themselves, others—like Gareth, perused the aisles looking for something interesting to read.

After she finished her chemistry paper, she set about writing a new note. She took her sticker sheet out from her notebook pocket and found a clean page.

She began writing and unbeknownst to her, Gareth could see her sticker sheet through the gap in the books from the other side of the shelf. He gasped, recognizing the stars and hearts that graced the notes Eddie received for the last week or so. He knew of his friends crush on the girl, and knew how ecstatic Eddie would be if she ended up being his admirer, which lead him to try to get a look at her paper.

He tried his best to see what she wrote or at least what her handwriting looked like, though he couldn’t because she ended up leaning her head over on her hand, blocking his view entirely.

The boy sighed and ran a hand through his fluffy hair, deciding he needed to come up with a better strategy.

Was this idea better? No.

Was it effective? Yes, absolutely.

Was it also creepy? Completely.

Gareth decided to follow Y/n the best he could after she left study hall, hoping she’d choose to drop the note in Eddie’s locker soon so he could stop feeling so weird.

His prayers were answered when he saw her walk past her locker, which made him hang back around the corner for a second before she could look back at him. He peeked his head around and saw her reaching up to slide it in through the slot. He approached her hastily, wanting to catch her as discreetly as possible.

“What are you doing?” Gareth asked from behind her. Y/n jerked her hand away from the locker before she could deposit the paper and turned to face him. “Nothing, what are you doing?”

Gareth rolled his eyes and nodded at her hidden hands. “What’s that?” He asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to…buy drugs.”

“Liar.”

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

“Because people who buy drugs don’t tell people they’re buying drugs.” Gareth shook his head in amusement.

‘Fuck.’

"You're the one sending the love notes, I already figured it out, you can stop trying to lie, really, it's sad." Gareth said with amused pity.

“Okay, you can’t say anything to him, not yet at least. I wanna send more before he figures out it’s me. I’m not sure how he’ll react.” She said.

“What? They’re the best part of his day, he’d be thrilled to find out who you are.”

“He barely even knows I exist, and I don’t even know what my end goal is with all of this, okay? I just—not right now, please.” She grabbed Gareth’s arm before he could walk away.

Gareth looked back at the girl, taking a deep breath and surveyed her eyes that pleaded for his cooperation. “Do you really like him?” He clarified, Y/n looked at her shoes and nodded reluctantly, “I really really do.”

“Alright, your secret’s safe with me,” Gareth whispered earnestly.

“Really?” She asked.

“But you’re gonna have to tell him someday. You can’t live in secrecy forever, it isn’t fair to either one of you.” Gareth said, shrugging his shoulders. He nodded at the locker, “You better put it in before the bell rings, I’ll keep watch.”

Y/n turned with a nod in agreement, ridding herself of the note quickly as if she were sending it in the mail. “Thank you, Gareth.” She said.

He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders, “Thanks for making him feel special and shit. He won’t admit it but I know he’s kept them all.” He flashed another smile and left for good this time, leaving Y/n with a renewed sense of hope.

‘Maybe my chances with Eddie Munson aren’t so slim after all.’

Eddie huffed as he picked up the lock that hung from his the latch of his locker. He dialed the combination, ignoring some shoves on his back from passing assholes like Jason Carver. Eddie swung the door open, the note he’d been expecting this morning falling down. His heart leapt from his chest when he heard the familiar thump on the ground.

‘She wrote me a new note even after this morning.’ He beamed as he reached down quickly to snatch it from the floor.

‘🦋I love seeing how happy you get when you’re with your friends, your smile is my favorite💗’

He smiled at the compliment, bringing his fingers to his mouth to trace his lips. He read the note three more times. ‘your smile is my favorite’ lingered in his mind.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the paper and shoving it into his back pocket to open his own notebook, and decided he would drop her a note himself, excited to play her at her own game.

The next day, during her third hour study hall, Y/n worked on her love notes in the library. She had her sticker sheet out and her colorful pens scattered across the table, hoping to make them all look like they weren’t written in one sitting.

‘Me again! I hope these don’t get annoying. Anyway, you know the drill. I think you’re the cutest boy in Hawkins ❤️ Have a good day!‘

‘I had a dream about you the other night, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t want to wake up. Maybe I could show you how it went sometime 💗’

She shook her head at herself for that one. She worried he’d think she’s some sort of deviant, but she was hoping it would excite him.

‘Have you figured me out yet? Or am I just that good?’

‘Thinking of you way more than I should be. ❤️‘

‘I hope you see something beautiful today🤍⭐️‘

She shoved the rest of the notes in her back pack pocket, using the last 15 minutes in the library to sneak out and deliver a note before the class change.

Little did Y/n know, Eddie had the same idea.

He held his slip of paper tight in his hand as he walked down the hallway a few minutes before the bell rang. He’d never spent this much time perfecting something he wrote, except maybe a song.

Before he could arrive at her locker, Eddie saw Y/n walking from the opposite direction, looking at her feet the whole trip. Eddie ducked into the bathroom, the zippers and contents of his bag jingling with every stride.

Y/n didn’t hesitate when dropping the new note into his locker. She loved the familiar warmth spreading through her chest at the prospect of making him smile.

The bell rang and she walked further down the hall, intending to look like she just showed up when she would eventually come around the other way while he needed to change his books.

Eddie walked out of the bathroom, noticing her absence and went ahead and opened his locker, his heart leapt at the sound of the note falling down for him. He didn’t even bother controlling his wide grin as he unfolded it hastily and read.

‘I hope you see something beautiful today🤍⭐️‘

Eddie’s heart melted yet further solidified his need to make her feel the same way she’s made him feel. As the hall emptied of students, he took his opportunity to open up the note he’d written for her to add something in at the bottom:

‘I hope you know you have been the most beautiful part of my day for a while now, the notes just made it better.’

He hurriedly folded the note back the way he had it and stuffed it in the slot before she could turn the corner. By the time she had made it back to her locker, Eddie was switching books out of his bag.

He saw Y/n begin to unlock her own from the corner of his eye. When he heard her door swing open, and the familiar sound of a folded note hitting the ground, he looked to her face to gauge her reaction.

Y/n’s heart lurched into her throat and her body felt rigid at the sight of the paper on the floor in front of her. Eddie bit his lip and shut his locker door, turning to confront his feelings.

She looked to him, her heart stopping at his full attention set on her for the first time.

“Go on, open it.” He uttered, anticipation in his eyes. Y/n nodded and cautiously picked up the note, turning it over in her hands to view her name with a heart drawn beside it. The sight made the corners of her mouth turn up, though she suppressed it out of habit.

Eddie took a hesitant step closer to her, unable to contain himself. She took a grounding breath and unfolded it.

‘There’s nothing I’ve wanted more than for you to notice me, let alone make a grand gesture of your affection like you have. No one has ever made me feel so special before. I’ve wanted to know you since I saw you on your first day wearing a Sabbath shirt and flowery skirt. Every day since then I’ve liked seeing what you wear and how you do your hair, especially with braids.’

Y/n tried to pace her breathing, the whole situation feeling too good to be true.

‘I’ve thought you were the cutest girl in Hawkins ever since’ Her heart dropped at the callback to one of her previous notes.

‘I hope you know you have been the most beautiful part of my day for a while now, the notes just made it better.’ Y/n couldn’t help her gaping and dumbstruck smile. Her eyes were locked on the paper in front of her, almost forgetting about the boy standing a short distance away.

He wore a smug smile at her wide eyes and heaving chest as he stepped closer in the empty hall, messing with his lips nervously.

“Hey, there.” He smiled, unable to look away from her. “Hi.” She whispered, unabashedly looking into his deep brown eyes. “You, uh, you got my note, huh?” He asked.

Y/n looked to the note in her hands and then back at him, “Mhm, I have.” She mumbled, a smile working its way onto her face.

Eddie nodded, his eyes glimmering for her. “Uh, nice handwriting by the way,” He held up her note in his fingers ,”And the stickers? They really are cute.” He said, pressing it to his heart as he looked her over.

“I-I thought you’d like them. I hoped you would, anyway.” She shrugged and quickly looked back to the ground as she felt her neck heating up. “Y’know you’ve really made me feel like the cutest boy in Hawkins?” He smiled, a light pink dusted his cheeks at the sentiment she’d written him.

The color drained from her face, suddenly embarrassed. “Oh, god,” she let out a nervous giggle as she hid her eyes behind her hands.

“No, no, no, come back!” Eddie teased quietly, reaching out and gently bringing her hands away from her face. “I mean it! Can I, uh, can I give—you know what, c’mere.” He said as he pulled her in for a tight hug, his head resting comfortably against hers. Y/n felt as if her heart could burst taking in his woodsy scent mixed with cigarettes and cologne.

“You’ve gotta know I’m pretty crazy about you, like, you being the sender only felt possible in my dreams—for a while it felt like a prank, but it’s really happening, you’re right here and it’s crazy… Thank you, sweetheart, truly.” He trailed off and kissed her on top of the head after a moment.

“I-I had no idea, I didn’t think you noticed me until last week, Eddie.” She said in a daze, her arms in loose embrace around him as she struggled to stay standing.

“You said my name, holy shit.“ He shook his head, an attempt at focusing on the current topic. “Sorry, sorry, you really thought I didn’t notice you? Seriously?! You’re gorgeous, babe, really, how could anyone go without noticing you?” He held her at arms length, gesturing to her entire being when he spoke of her.

Y/n’s eyes glossed as he gushed over her like it was second nature, and to Eddie it really was. Except now, he was allowed to spill his thoughts to the object of his desires instead of his friends. “Come with me, please?” Eddie pleaded as he shut her locker door and picked up her bag.

Y/n’s cheeks heated up at the prospect of ditching class. “C’mon, you’re always where you’re supposed to be, you won’t miss a lot today, I promise! Scout's honor.” Eddie held his hand up sacredly, knowing damn well his father never signed him up to be a scout of any variety.

“How could I say no to the cutest boy in Hawkins?” She smiled and followed after him to the parking lot. “That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing.” Eddie said lovingly, feeling as though she’d been his forever.

The nicknames and attention brought Y/n’s heartbeat up much higher than she ever thought possible, yet she’d never felt lighter. Eddie lead her to his van, quickly unlocking the back doors and guiding her inside. “Here you are, m’lady.” He said with an accent and a helping hand awaiting her.

Y/n shook her head as she stepped inside, Eddie quickly following after. “Make yourself at home.” he encouraged, getting comfy stretched out on his side. Y/n sat next to his upper half and held her focus on hands in her lap with her back against the wall.

There was silence, though Y/n couldn’t tell if it was uncomfortable or not. Before she could find anything to say, Eddie spoke first.

“I hope you know I meant it. When I said your notes have been the best part of my day since the first one, but, uh, seeing you in between classes… I‘ve looked forward to those moments every day for a long time… I can fit all of my books in my bag if I want to, you know? I just grab one or two at a time to up my chances of seeing you. Is that weird?” He asked as if he hadn’t already lured her into his van. Y/n shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with need.

Eddie softened at her understanding and gently took her hand in his, “I just can’t believe you saw me.” He whispered, playing with her fingers as he spoke so vulnerably to the girl he’d spoken to for only the first time.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her ears as her internal monologue screamed at her to be daring, that she has the green light, that the boy she’s so down bad for has had feelings for her, so she should shoot her shot and make her move!

To test the waters she pressed his hand to her cheek, the warmth and plush of his palm was inviting and the perfect cradle for her face. He drew loving circles with his thumb on her cheekbone, hoping his next move wasn’t too forward.

Eddie leaned in slowly, giving her the opportunity to back away or say something, but instead she leaned into him, placing her other hand at the nape of his neck to pull him close.

The pair let out moans of relief as their lips crashed together. They moved against each other hungrily, not bothering to hold back any longer. Eddie found his way up to his knees, using both of his hands to hold her jaw.

When they’d pull away it was a mixture of moans, gasps, and short exchanges.

“You’re so soft,”

“I love your hands, want them everywhere,”

“Is this okay?”

Eddie had pulled Y/n over his lap and looked up at her before resuming. She caught her breath and pushed a couple loose strands away from his face before smiling down at him and nodding. “Things feel so easy with you, can’t believe I didn’t talk to you sooner.” She shook her head in disbelief before brushing her nose against his, which gave him butterflies.

“Can I take you out? I wanna do this right, I wanna take you everywhere, anywhere! Anywhere you wanna go, whatever you wanna do, I’ll make it happen. What do you say, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered, looking back down at her lips hungrily.

“Oh, I’ll go out with you, that’s not even up for discussion, Munson,” She teased, her smile tugging on his heart strings. “But as for location…” She leaned up, seemingly in thought while Eddie anxiously awaited her answer.

“You could take me to the nearest gas station and buy a bag of chips and a can of coke to split and I’d call it the best first date I’ve ever been on because you’re so special, Eddie.” She said softly. Eddie chuckled in disbelief.

“No, really. Out of all the guys in Hawkins I knew I’d feel the safest with you, yet, every time I thought about talking to you I felt like I was going to throw up. But now that I have it’s, like, the easiest thing ever.” Eddie felt a swell of emotions over take him. He couldn’t believe he was here in the arms of the girl he so deeply admired, listening to her call him special and safe.

Before he had the chance to say anything to try to match how wonderful she made him feel, she leaned down and engulfed his lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Her hands slid back into his hair, barely tugging at the roots of his unruly curls.

She could feel him smile into the kiss, his hands sliding from her back down to her thighs, stealing a quiet gasp from her when he paused to softly squeeze her ass on his way.

He stroked her thighs up and down, the denim separating him from the soft flesh he desperately wished to touch and squeeze. He adored the sounds their lips made together, and he craved to hear the other pretty sounds she made.

Eddie pulled away only enough to graze his lips down her jaw and neck, stopping where her neck meets her shoulder. He nipped at the skin softly, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to send a burst of surprise to her tummy. “Oh…” she quietly reveled in the tingling sensation he sent through her with his teeth and tongue.

“Eddie… shit… w-we gotta stop.” She said dejectedly. Eddie ripped his lips from her with a wet smack, his eyes wide in panic. Had he done something wrong? Did she change her mind?

“Oh, no, honey, I don’t wanna stop, believe me,” She said when she noticed his worry. “But I can’t let myself go any further until we go get that bag of chips. We could continue this after, though, if—you know, the gas station run goes well.” She fiddled with his collar as she spoke, her last addition making him throw his head back and laugh, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back before looking back up at her lovingly.

“I’ll do anything for you, angel. But I won’t split a bag of chips with you, not on the first date at least, that’s something we’ll save for when we’re out of the honeymoon phase and broke. Today, my girl will be dining on the finest pizza in all of Hawkins, Indiana!” Eddie proclaimed as if he wasn’t referring to dominos.

But to Y/n it was the best pizzeria, and no other pepperoni pizza would be able to top the one he bought for her on that chilly spring day, huddled close under a blanket with the back doors open to face the lovely misty views of the quarry and wildflower fields.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire her as they ate in comfortable silence, the radio buzzing in the background as they chewed. A bit of sauce sat at the edge of his mouth, to which she reached out and wiped with her finger.

He turned his head to her instantly as she took her hand away and licked it from her thumb. “Sorry, I should’ve—,” she began to apologize, but before she could, he silenced her with a tender kiss to her lips. “Never apologize for touching me, ever.” He pulled back to whisper with a chuff smile on his lips.

Y/n nodded, the embarrassment melting from her body as he pressed kisses to her cheeks, forehead, nose, anywhere besides her lips. Giggles spilled from her mouth and Eddie discovered quickly it was his new favorite sound. While she was off guard, he pulled her into his lap.

“Y’know, being with a guy like me isn’t easy.” He said ominously, yet both joking and serious. “Oh is that so?” Y/n quipped as she settled between his legs, against his chest and picked up his hand to hold.

Eddie nodded, a permanent soft smile plastered to his face no matter how many times he tried to relax from his cheeks hurting. “Oh yeah, aside from the shit people will talk, I’m a needy guy, baby.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked back down at her adoring gaze waiting for him with her head tilted back against his shoulder.

“Try me, Munson.” She giggled as he kissed her head and picked up her slice to hand back to her.

“Let’s see… I like holding hands. And thighs, god, I love ‘em,” he paused to reach down and squeeze the underside of her leg and bury his face in the crook of her neck.

“Eddie!” She yelled through uncontrollable giggles. He took mercy on her and continued his list, counting off on his fingers. “I’m talking belly rubs, back rubs, head pats and scratches, and please feel free to play with my hair at your own discretion, you don’t ever have to ask. I like kisses, any and all are acceptable, really, please don’t be shy, sweet girl. I love— shit, I just love touch, but no one else needs to know that, capice?” Eddie emphasized his words by pressing his nose into the side of her cheek and leaving a chaste kiss there. Y/n nodded, “Your secrets safe with me, I swear!”

“And I’m just gonna go ahead and say now that if I’m...too much…you can tell me, I won’t get upset, I just know that not everyone wants that all the time, and I would never wanna—“

She tossed the pizza to the box with a flop, turning around to face him, sincerity written in her eyes. Eddies face lit up at the sight and was still taken off guard as she pushed her lips against his. She sat as she did earlier, straddling his waist. Eddie melted at her touch when she buried her fingers in his roots on one side and traced his chin and jaw with her other.

She pulled away to to look at him, though still kept him close with her embrace. “Thank you for saying that...I’m usually one of those people, and can’t take a lot of touch, but, I don’t know… you just..make me feel so comfortable.. I can’t, I've never wanted to touch someone so bad,” she averted her eyes sheepishly but Eddie only leaned into her touch to encourage her to continue. “But if I ever need space I promise to let you know as kindly as possible. My personal space issues aren’t your problem. You aren’t too much, Eddie. Ever.” She nodded and he returned it in confirmation.

“Tell me more about these standards,” she leaned back and grabbed him a drink, “Do you like being the big spoon or the little spoon?” She asked as she opened the cold can of coke and handed it to him.

Eddie blushed at the small action and took a sip, “I like both, I don’t discriminate! I love to hold and be held, you know?” He set the can down and circled his arms around her until they were flush against one another. Y/n only smiled and wrapped her arms around him in response.

Eddie took this opportunity to tilt his head down to be greeted with a face full of her cleavage, his nose and lips grazing the soft skin and breathing in her scent. He resisted the urge to shove his face in between them and revel, until Y/n set an encouraging hand against the back of his head easing him exactly where he wanted to be.

Eddie let out a sigh of relief only squeezing her tighter in his arms as slowly shook his head side to side and left a couple soft kisses across her chest, keeping the hot and heavy stuff for another time.

Right now he knew he had limited time. Eddie looked back up at her warm smile, flushed cheeks, and wide eyes.

“I wanna make you happy.” He whispered seriously, the smile finally fading from his face at the thought of his perfect day ending. Y/n scrunched her brow at the sudden shift in demeanor.

“Eddie...” She started, playing with his hair to soothe him. “You’ve brought me… joy ever since I saw you walking on the lunch table to yell at Andy Bauman in the cafeteria my first day of school. And then every day since just by being you. I’m not hard to please, I don’t need things from you, but I do need your respect, attention, and honesty, do you think I can have that?” She whispered tentatively.

Eddies heart melted further at her openness and nodded eagerly. “I want to do this right. I don’t want games. I want something real. With you.” She whispered, leaning her forehead against his to soak in the moment. Eddie slid his hand up to the back of her neck to tangle his fingers in her hair, using his other hand to move the rest away from her face on the other side.

He looked over every detail he possibly could, wanting to remember exactly how her skin felt, how the air smelled, the lovesick way she looked at him; the same way he looked at her.

“I can absolutely give you those things. And more. I can give you my trust, my admiration, my devotion, my...” His eyes searched for an answer in the air before a troublemaking smile crossed his lips, “body?” He smirked as she laughed at his answer.

“Those are all perfect, and you can expect the same from me, okay?” She asked sweetly. “Ooh, the same?” He joked, raising his eyebrows teasingly.

Y/n giggled and rolled her eyes even though her answer was “the same.” With a nod of finality.

Eddie took no hesitation and pressed the first of a million kisses to come to her lips.

Eddie and Y/n stayed out til the moon was high and full in the sky, the two feeling inseparable. When he eventually took her home, they lingered in the van parked by the curb.

“When I say this, I want you to know I really mean it,” Eddie said quietly with her hands in his. He focused on her bare nails as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. Y/n urged him to continue with a small nod, her eyes intently locked on his.

“Today was the best day of my life.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Mine too, Eddie.” She said. He smiled, letting go of one of her hands to reach for her cheek, bringing her in for what was supposed to be one more quick kiss.

One turned into two and then three more, smiles unmoving from their faces. “Walk with me?” She asked, her eyes flickering to the porch light. Eddie smiled and nodded, hurriedly getting out of his side to rush around the car in time to help her out, which made her chuckle.

“Y’know, you remind me of a puppy.” Y/n said as he swung their hands between them. Eddie sported an incredulous smile at the comparison. “A puppy, huh? How so?” He asked.

“Hmm,” she examined his face in thought, coming to a stop at her stoop. “I look at you and feel similar to how I feel when I see a cute puppy, you know? You’re playful, and sweet, you bite to show affection… You even said it yourself, you like belly rubs! Head pats? And those eyes?? C’mon, you’re the human embodiment of a puppy!” Y/n increasingly gets more excited as she comes up with more reasons to back up her claim.

“If this is your way of asking me to be your puppy, I’m so down.” he joked, giving her hand a squeeze.

Y/n couldn't help but smile before she checked her watch, 2 minutes to curfew. “I gotta get in there, but I’ll see you at school, yeah?” She said quietly. Eddie continued to beam at her as he nodded, bringing her in for one last tender kiss.

She stepped back to open the front door, turning to say, “Goodnight, puppy.” before she closed the door, leaving an awestruck Eddie stuck on her porch.

Y/n and Eddie tried to get to school as quickly as possible, but also took their time in getting ready to see one another.

Y/n added a couple of braids in her hair, letting the rest go in loose curls. She spent more time on her makeup than usual, used her favorite perfume, and wore a similar outfit to the one Eddie described in his note, though this skirt was shorter and tighter.

Eddie stayed in front of the mirror longer than he should’ve, trying to make his hair look effortlessly tousled without too much frizz, which he accomplished but not without losing an extra ten minutes he could’ve already used to be at school.

Eddie arrived first, a triumphant smile on his face when he fished out his note book from his bag and ripped out a new page. He grabbed his one blue ink pen and ripped the cap off with his teeth.

Eddie pressed the page against his locker, trying his best to make the writing legible.

He folded the note with haste, taking care to write her name and add both a heart and butterfly doodles around it before shoving it in her locker.

Eddie spun around and side stepped to his locker to do his usual routine of waiting around until she showed up.

In no time, there she was, a vision in a mini skirt and doc martens. His heart started pounding when he saw her grin appear as she made eye contact with him.

Eddies eyes grew wide in excitement, holding his arms outstretched for her to run into them. Y/n noticed his waiting embrace and sped up to an eager jog. When she met him, she reached up on her tip toes to throw her arms around his neck and pull him close as he did her.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” He mumbled into her hair, breathing in the sweet and alluring scent of her perfume that she sometimes wore. Eddie had smelled this on her before but only from a distance, today he got to bury his face into it and revel.

Y/n laughed as he nuzzled his nose into that spot he loved on her neck. She reached up to stroke the back of his head with her fingernails. “See? Total puppy.”

Eddie blushed and pulled back, taking one of her hands in his so he could get a good look at her outfit of the day. He let out an impressed whistle as he raised their hands for her to twirl under. “You look absolutely divine this morning. Really, sweetheart, are you trying to kill me?” He placed a hand over his heart as she looked to her shoes with a blush.

Eddie loved the effect he had on her, making her blush was always a win in his book. He wanted to flatter her until she was a cherry tomato. Y/n took off her back pack, moving to set it on the ground in front of her when Eddie picked it up to hold for her as she exchanged books. “Well aren’t you sweet?” She said quietly as she tried to remember her combination.

Eddies fingers anxiously drummed on the handle of her bag he held. When the door swung open, she almost missed the sound of the note hitting her foot. Y/n’s eyes snapped to his, observing the guilty and mischievous glint in his eye as he shrugged his shoulders. “Go, on open it.” He said, nodding to the note with a pleased smirk. Y/n tried to keep her breath steady as she unfolded the last note.

‘Can I call you my girlfriend?💙

Yes or No’

Y/n kept a good poker face as she stared at the note, wanting to make Eddie sweat a bit. “Hmm,” She asked, pressing the note to her chest as if it were private, fumbling with the pen cup on the locker door that separates them.

Eddie tried to keep his cool but when she looked so serious in front of him and took seconds longer than she should’ve needed to circle an answer, he started to fidget. Y/n sat back with an amused smile twitching at her lips.

Eddie took a subtle but deep breath, suddenly nervous as if the whole day together hadn’t been of any encouragement. He watched on as she scribbled something on the paper and circled an answer, folding it back up and promptly handing it back to him.

Eddie swallowed hard and unfolded the note as she waited patiently. He looked down at the answer section of the note, chuckling when he saw she wrote ‘Hell’ above ‘Yes’, a bold heart around the two.

Eddie’s eyes darted back up to her, his smile almost maniacal as he dropped her bag and shut her door to press wet kisses to her lips and face as she giggled the whole time and tried to keep up. “Eddie! That tickles!” She squeaked though the laughter Eddie delighted in so much.

“I’m so sorry,” He said before resuming his kisses sporadically, backing her up against the locker. “It’s just,” he placed another kiss on her cheek, pushing her hair away from her face and burying his fingers in it behind her neck to keep her close, her fingers stroked his wrists adoringly.

“when it comes to my girlfriend,” he pressed a kiss to her nose and then rubbed it with his own, back and forth, before continuing, “I can’t help myself, especially when she looks this pretty on a daily basis.” He gazed adoringly into her eyes.

“Wow, she sounds great.” She quipped, which made Eddie roll his eyes. “She is..She’s such a dream. Funny, smart, reads good books, cunning, and irresistible, like when she looks at me the way she is right now...” His voice dropped to an earnest whisper, watching as she looked from his eyes to his lips.

Y/n ran her tongue over her bottom lip before diving in and kissing him softly, smiling when he hummed contently into it, the whole world falling away.

“Holy shit!” A familiar voice halted their affection, the couple turned quickly in their embrace to see who was speaking. Mike Wheeler stood with his mouth hanging open.

Gareth rounded the corner and spotted Mike first, following his gaze to Eddie and Y/n with their arms around each other, the girl leaning into Eddie’s body as if he were a giant teddy bear.

“You did it!” Gareth said to Y/n, a bright smile lighting up his face as he gave her a congratulatory pat on the back. Eddie short circuited for a moment and shook his head between the two of them.

"Wait, you knew? How—" Eddie questioned, too happy in his current position to be actually angry.

"He caught me once, I swore him to secrecy."

"Relax man, she practically threatened to kill me if I told you." Gareth held his hands up in surrender as Mike was joined by Dustin and Lucas.

"Eddie, I didn't know you had a girlfriend!" Dustin said in surprise, Lucas wearing a matching expression.

"Breaking news, Hawkins! My girl's the prettiest in all the land!" Eddie announced, catching the attention of the entire hallway, tossing the note with a flick of his wrist in Dustin's direction, the boy scrambling to catch it.

Eddie turned to his girl and pulled her in close to plant one more kiss on her lips before the bell rang. "Get ready to tell me absolutely everything about yourself later, I'm thinking burgers and the stars, maybe?"

"That sounds fantastic. But only if you're prepared to do the same, I'm gonna need all your deepest darkest secrets." She shot him a foreboding look that had him suppressing a giggle.

Dustin handed the note to Eddie, who shoved it in his wallet with the others where bills would typically go. The sight made Y/n's heart flutter.

"They're all yours, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before walking down the hall with her towards his first class. "I'll see ya, later, girlfriend." He smirked, not quite ready to let go of her hand until she was too far.

"Lookin' forward to it, boyfriend." She rolled her eyes through a blushing smile and walked to class with more pep in her step than ever.

They never stopped writing each other notes, only getting more mushy and lovey as time went on.

When Y/n would eventually make Eddie lunches for work, she'd make sure to write him a special note to find at the bottom 'For the cutest boy in Hawkins' she'd tease, doodling hearts and stars all around the edges.

Eddie saved all of them. He decided he should keep track of how many notes he was behind on and needed to catch up, sending notes every day to his love in different ways.

Notes in her locker, her pockets, hand delivered (sometimes during class) by a member of Hellfire if it wasn't himself, under her pillow, in the seat of the car, sometimes he'd replace her bookmark with a note of his to greet her the next time she decided to read her book before bed.

Later they left notes for each other all over the house, until they decided to save on paper and get a marker board.

It was supposed to be for phone messages, important upcoming events, and to keep track of bills, but Eddie always wrote her a note before he left for work.

'I already cant wait to see you. Enjoy your morning'

'Eddie loves Y/n'

'Make today your bitch xoxo'

Y/n felt discouraged for a little bit because she wanted to figure out a new special way to wish him a good day, too. It wasn't until she walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth that evening that she realized she could write on the mirror for him the night before.

After writing cute sweet things like 'Good morning to the cutest boy in Hawkins' or 'the best boy deserves the best day' for a while, she decided she wanted to shake things up a little.

One evening, before he got home she left him a message on the mirror to see when he went to wash the day off from his job at the garage in town.

"Hey, baby!" He called when he entered the apartment he stayed at most of the time, tossing his keys on the counter and stripping off his jacket from over his blue work jumpsuit, stained with grease and dust.

"Where's my best girl at?" He asked as he scrubbed the majority of the oil from his hands at the sink, checking out the dinner simmering on the stove. He gave it a couple stirs until Y/n could take back over.

Y/n came out of the bathroom from putting a towel and clothes out for him to change into, noticing his messy ponytail and smiling at how cute he always looked doing things when no one was watching.

"Hi, pup." She said quietly approaching him, wrapping her arms around his middle, which he indulged in lightly and then pushed her hands back to her side as he turned around to lean close by her ear, knowing exactly how giggly she gets when he does this. "'m gross, sweetheart," he said sweet as honey, and pressing a kiss on her neck below her ear, "I gotta get out of these clothes before I love all over you, I would hate to leave greasy handprints on the front of that cute little shirt you have on." He mumbled in her ear followed by a wink as he walked to the bathroom.

Y/n blushed and stirred the pasta, then bent down to check the garlic bread in the oven, when she heard his laughter echo in the small apartment.

Eddie had flipped on the light and turned on the shower, when he brought his attention to the mirror as he undressed, noticing a new note waiting for him.

'Nice ass. (:'

He couldn't help but come apart at the seams. He was about to walk back out to the kitchen to ruin her white tshirt, when he then noticed the fresh towel and comfy clothes laid on the toilet for him.

He paused, staring for a moment. He'd never get used to his lunches being packed, not to mention his clothes laid out for him, this was a first. In this moment, every act of service Y/n had done for him in the last two years rushes through his head.

All the times she'd offer to wash his hair after a long day, the countless meals, the nights she insisted on being the big spoon, the times he'd come home to the trailer after hellfire and she'd have the dishes or laundry done, or his bed made with new sheets even if she wasn't spending the night.

Eddie tried to make it clear she didn't have to take care of him, that it wasn't her job or expected of her just because she was his girlfriend. Y/n only met his concern with a soft smile and a shake of the head, "I know Eddie, that's why I want to." she'd say.

But something about the neatly folded pajamas that sat on top of the towel with some fresh socks and briefs sent him over the edge.

He knew in his heart it was time to make things even more permanent.

Eddie took his girl on a drive for their 3 year anniversary in the spring. Y/n did her best to coax the destination out of him during the weeks prior to their weekend, but Eddie kept this secret locked up tight.

Eddie followed the familiar winding path through the back roads of Hawkins, spying the newly bloomed wildflowers in the fields surrounding the quarry.

They backed into their spot by the shore, one they hadn't visited since they'd graduated.

"Aw, puppy, it's been so long!" She said, her breath taken. "I know, that's why I thought it'd be great if we picnic'd here." He smiled at her as he got out of the van to pull the back doors open. Y/n kept her eyes on the scene before her, until Eddie cleared his throat to show her the extravagant pallet he'd prepared for them, much different to the set up they'd enjoyed the first time they came around here.

"Eddie! Baby, it's so pretty!" She gushed and climbed in, his satisfied smile never leaving her. "Yeah? You think so?" He said, hopping up next to her.

"Eddie, you never stop impressing me." She said as she made herself cozy. Eddie blushed and averted his gaze. "You flatter me, babe. You always have." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders to give a kiss to her forehead.

"You're just really special to me, what can I say?" She hummed and kisses the back of his hand that rested in her interlocked fingers.

"Baby, could you grab the picnic basket over there?" Eddie nodded to her side of the van, the basket sat in the corner on top of their picnic blanket.

Y/n nodded eagerly before retrieving the blanket and basket, and handing it to Eddie. He started setting out a couple dishes and forks, then sprinkled a couple handfuls of rose petals around the area.

"Is this sufficient, your grace?" Eddie said in an exaggerated and posh accent. Y/n followed with a sigh, "It'll do, I suppose." She giggled and gave him a kiss.

Eddie reached back in the basket, bringing out the cake he bought that morning, the both of them digging in immediately.

After they'd devoured half the cake, Eddie couldn't wait any longer. "I, um, I made you a present." Eddie laughed nervously, reaching to the bottom of the basket and pulling out a photo album. "Nancy helped me with a lot of it, since she's good with this stuff, but, uh, yeah."

Y/n sat with a mouth full of cake and no words to say. "I've added to it for a while, but I mostly put it all together the last week at lunch. You should take a look." He held it out to her. Y/n quickly swallowed and dusted off her hands before the hefty book was dropped in her lap.

Eddie scooted close next to her so they could look together. Y/n flipped to the first page and was met with their very first picture, captioned with the note he sent asking her to be his girlfriend.

"Ed—" she couldn't finish because of the tears welling up in her eyes, deciding to turn to the next page.

Eddie had displayed their notes along with their pictures and memorabilia from their years together, including lucky pennies, pressed flowers, concert tickets, song lyrics written on a paper napkin. Y/n sat silently as she turned each page looking at the times gone by.

They giggled at a picture of themselves in the front seat of the van, looking stoned as hell with heavy lidded eyes, smiling widely and sticking out their tongues to touch between them. "Have we ever known personal space?" She asked, Eddie only licking her ear in response.

Another they came across was one Steve took of them at Lovers Lake during their first summer together, they both stood by the shore, completely soaked. Eddie stood behind Y/n wrapping his towel around the both of them as they laughed.

Eddie was eager for her to see the photo strip they thought was long lost from New Years. They spent the night at some bar in Indianapolis with their friends, getting absolutely plastered and following the drinks up with a high. Eddie and Y/n found themselves in a photo booth with props and went ham.

At first they didn't use anything, too inebriated to notice their options. In the first picture, they're leaned against each other, smiling with almost closed eyes. In the next frame, they've realized they can dress up, Eddie's arm reaching out from behind Y/n, her eyes wide with excitement.

Eddie wrapped a feathery boa around them as Y/n placed a Happy New Year headband on his head, and then let him set giant glasses on her face.

After they posed with wide smiles and discarded their props, Eddie knew he wanted to use the last one to pull her in for a wet kiss right at midnight.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you found this!” She said eagerly pointing to the strip and fawning over the nostalgia it provided.

She saw the Polaroid she took of Eddie when he spent the night at her apartment for the first time, a shot of him making a silly face as he chopped vegetables for their dinner.

She saw a few of herself she hadn’t seen before. There were some of her sleeping, getting ready for bed of an evening, or folding laundry and holding up a pair of his underwear to be funny, captioned with some of the stickers she used to always have on hand in school, pieces cut from poetry books, and the notes he wrote about her.

She didn't notice the tears spilling over, or the butterflies tingling in her chest when she turned to the last page that had only one note, one that looked newer compared to the crinkled and yellowed pages of the past. It only said:

'Can I call you my wife? 💙

Yes or No'

Y/n only sniffled and looked to Eddie, who had matching tear tracks running down his cheeks. He shot her a warm smile and pulled the ring box out of his pocket. "What do you say?" He whispered, grasping her left hand in his, the air heavy with anticipation.

"Eddie.." she whispered, looking down at the open box on his knee. It contained a thin silver band, perfect for her finger until he could afford something more grand and ornate, though he knew she'd be thrilled with anything he presented to her.

"Hell yes." Her voice broke as she sniffled and laughed, Eddie's smile doubled in size as he slid the ring onto her finger with quaking hands.

Time stood still as they looked at one another. "You realize what this means?" Eddie asked, taking her face in his hands. She gave him a skeptical look. "You're mine and I'm yours and there's no getting rid of me... unless you wanna pay a bunch of money in court, cause I'll fight that shit hard, honey." He smarted off as more stray tears escaped and she laughed at his antics.

"But really, you've made me the happiest guy ever. You make me feel like the most important person on the planet, from your first note. I never want to stop trying to make you feel the same way— I wanna keep doing life with you, I wanna experience the world with you. You make me want things I've never thought about wanting. I never thought love could be like this, Y/n. You're everything to me; the greatest person inside and out and I can't wait to see what we do." He grinned and kissed her lips before she could say anything else.

And they lived happily ever after

Steve: Myself and Robin are best friends.

Robin: Platonic soulmates, if you will.

Steve: We share everything.

Robin: Food-

Steve: Clothes-

Robin: Music taste-

Steve: taste in women-

Robin: gender-

Steve: a single brain cell-

Robin: the only thing we don’t share is an interest in men.

Steve: *holding Eddie’s hand* damn my bisexuality for ruining something so perfect.

could you write some more touchstarved eddie i am literally a puddle 🥺

"I dunno," You shrug, your eyes not on Eddie's but on his rings as you twist them around his fingers, "I thought the blue one was cool."

You're sat outside the diner, discarded fries on your plate that Eddie sneaks into his mouth. (You notice). The blue one refers to a guitar you'd seen while perusing the record shop before dinner, three electric guitars mounted on the wall in 'Eddie's Section'.

"Super cool." Eddie affirms, his voice slightly softer than it normally is. You don't catch it, but he's staring at you, the way your tongue pokes out of your mouth in concentration as you focus on spinning each ring at the same time.

"Which one was your favorite?" You ask, eyebrows raising though you don't look up from your task. His fuzzy, lovedrunk brain doesn't comprehend that you've asked him something, so when he doesn't respond with 'red' like you assume he will, you finally look up.

He's staring at you, the faint smile on his lips an expression you love so dearly you'd get it tattooed. It would be nothing close to the real thing, though, in terms of beauty, especially if it wasn't paired with the adoring twinkle in his beautiful brown eyes.

"Hell-oooo," You laugh confusedly, "Earth to Eddie?"

"What?" He raises his eyebrows, expression blankly fond, "What'd you say?"

"I asked which guitar you liked," You chuckle, "Everything okay over there?"

"Yeah!" He nods, his hair flying at the movement, "Yeah, 's all good. Just- no one's ever done that before. Held my hand, and, like," He glances down at your fingers, paused in their efforts, "Played with it."

"Oh." You grin contentedly up at him, "Well, I'm your first."

You're well aware of how suggestive your comment is, so you punctuate it with a giggle. It only widens Eddie's grin, and his brain whirrs with all of his firsts that you've been.

First kiss. First relationship. First sleepover. First date. First love.

He realizes the last one with a cartwheeling stomach, but where he expects fear and panic, he gets nothing but contentment. Fuzzy, warm contentment, that invades his scrawny form like moss through the cracks of an old stone wall, spreading through every possible crevice until the cold stone is enveloped in new life.

You're his first love, he admits, and he'll be damned if you aren't his last.

eddie sprawled out on your bedroom floor explaining in full detail of his role playing character that was supposed to be just for sexy fun time

you sit on your bed half naked with one eyebrow raised at the man still talking about how his characters mom died

Why does the reader always is white with long blond hair and in short skirt ? Aren't they supposed to be everybody ?

One Piece Minks/ Furries Part 2

Steve: Why do people always assume me and Robin are a couple? Girls and boys can be friends!

Eddie: … it’s not because you’re a dude and she’s a girl… Steve… I hang out with Nancy all the time and no one thinks we’re dating.

Steve, running his hand through Robins hair: What is it then?

Eddie, giving a sign of frustration: You are literally holding her hand right now.

Steve: so??

Eddie: You shared a milkshake with her at the diner yesterday, with one straw

Steve: Is everyone a germaphobe now?

Eddie: YOU SLEEP IN THE SAME BED

Steve: We have nightmares!! It’s comforting!!

Eddie: you’re wearing her shirt right now!

Steve: we’re the same size!! Clothes have no gender!!

Eddie: YOU HAVE PROMISE RINGS

Steve: FRIENDSHIP PROMISE RINGS

Eddie: You got matching tattoos! You have her name tattooed next to your heart?? Friends don’t do that!!

Steve: Well obviously they do!

Eddie: You spent last week openly planning your wedding! I’ve seen your wedding planner! It’s like 200 pages!!

Steve: HEY I’ve always wanted to get married okay I’ve been making that binder since I was 8 and she needs a beard!! It works for both of us!! She’s letting me plan the whole thing!!

Eddie: YOU INVITE HER TO OUR DATE NIGHTS STEVE!!

Steve: IM NEW TO DATING MEN OKAY SOMETIMES I NEED SUPPORT

steve: how do you feel about children?

eddie: uh, they’re okay, I guess. I mean, if I saw one on the street I wouldn’t throw a rock at them. 

steve: why would you throw a rock at a child. 

eddie: I just said I wouldn’t.

It truly is perfection

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫  

part one | part two

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

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

𓆩❤︎𓆪

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

Toddlers like cookies, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I brought cookies." 

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

Your bravado makes him laugh. 

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

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

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

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

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

"She loves the floor,” he says.

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

"Yeah? What's the tab?" 

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

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

"I think those might help me out." 

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

"'Cos they're bitter?" he asks. 

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

"I'll bring chocolate chip next time." 

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

"I like sugar." 

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

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

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

You pass it to him. 

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

"You don't think it looks cruel?" 

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

"How many babies do you know?" 

"One." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yummy?" you ask.

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

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

"Do they taste like you remember?" 

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

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

One oreo, twice the cream.

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

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

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

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

"Oh." 

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

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

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

You could ruin them completely for all he cares. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He giggles at you. Hormones? Cats?

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

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

“Like what?” 

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

“I sounded pretty stupid,” you summarise. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

You're clinging to sanity. 

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

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

You're terrified. 

You've found yourself in tears, too. 

"Just tell me, baby," you plead. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take a ragged breath. 

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

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

"Can I hold her?" he asks, softer. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. 

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

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

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

"Yeah." 

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

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

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

Eddie stands by your side, waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. A hair." 

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

"Stay there," you say without any explanation. 

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

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

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

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

"A hair remover." 

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

"How long does it take?"

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

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

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

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

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

You take the hair between your nails and pull.

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

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

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

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

"I don't feel well." 

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

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

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

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

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

You're trying very hard to calm down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe. Does it matter?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't be." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No.” Your chest burns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do I look that bad?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No socks," she agrees. 

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

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

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

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

She sighs. You sigh too. 

Eddie hums from the kitchen. 

He kissed my knee.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can cook," you say, surprised. 

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

"I doubt it's gross." 

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

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

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

He taps his nose. You pass Junie her spoon.

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

"So don't look. Eat." 

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing." You laugh under your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's embarrassing in its intensity. 

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

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

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

“If you’re sure,” you say. 

“Positive.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looks at you curiously. 

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

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

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

"Hey, junebug," you hear Eddie murmuring. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie.”

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

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

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

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

“You first. Where’re her shoes?” 

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

I don’t want to carry it, you’d said. 

Don’t patronise me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asks. 

"There’s, like, a thousand steps.”

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

“Is there a way around?”

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

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

He grins like a fiend. “I’m strong.”

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

“Maybe we should find another way.”

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

You blow air out of the side of your mouth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bussing? Sure. Why’d you ask?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t feel better. “No, ‘cos-”

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

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

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

“Like we’re twelve?” you deflect. 

“Yeah, like we’re twelve.”

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

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

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

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

“No. I don’t deny it.”

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

You nod happily, warm under his touch.

Wait. “What?”

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

“Eddie!”

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

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

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

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

“Can I get in on one of those?”

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

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

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

He shrugs. "Bookstore's a bookstore." 

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

"King of the Rings," he repeats jovially. 

"Whatever it's called." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The further you read the closer he gets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“And they were awesome."

“Eddie,” you complain softly. 

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

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

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

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

“You don’t like McDonald’s?” he asks. 

“I’m really not hungry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"D'you have fun? Powder your noses?" 

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

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

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

"Okay," she says. 

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

You kiss her cheek. 

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

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

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

"Grand," Eddie praises. 

"What did you want to come here for?" 

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

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

"Why'd they have so many?" 

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

"So these are knock-offs?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who's that?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want?" he asks. 

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

He gasps. "What?" 

"I can afford that one myself." 

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

"They won't." 

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

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

You see your saving grace across the way. 

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

Junie perks up. 

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

"What?" she asks. 

"I saw… teddies!" 

"Mr. Bear?" she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And if she gets dermatitis?" 

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

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

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

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

"Shit, really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best day ever. 

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

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

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

You can't afford all three. 

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

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

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

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

"Eddie," you say again, quietly. 

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

"Really?" 

"Only for the rabbit." 

You purse your lips to fight a smile. 

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

"A rash." 

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

You laugh. "Poor baby." 

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

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

"He thought you were hurting yourself?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are pretty funny," you say.

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

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

"Yeah, you should've." 

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

"Will she wake up?" Eddie asks quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want me to drive?" you ask. 

"No, sweetheart. You're good." 

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

"Eddie…" 

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

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

You waver. 

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

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

"I'll crawl." 

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

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

"Crawling," he murmurs smugly. 

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

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

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

"Eddie," you start. 

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

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

"Now you're getting it." 

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

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

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

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

I didn't force him. He likes me. 

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

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

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

"Of course you can." 

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

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

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

"Eager to get back?" 

"Eager as a cry for life. Try it." 

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

"I'll try that one after you." 

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

"Leave some for me." 

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

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

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

"I think so." 

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

"What?" 

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

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

"A long time ago." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cake?" she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓆩❤︎𓆪

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yeah john doe would probably fuck you to the rhythm of that cbat song i keep seeing on tiktok

[JDVN] Random Headcanons

-

so i'm back and i swear i'm working on all the stuff in my inbox, but i also discovered the john doe visual novel recently and like i love him so much??? i must write for him also cause there seems to be so little written for him

warnings: doe being weird but loveable as usual, scalp gnawing???

okay so obviously this little eldritch creature thing is clingy as fuck all the time, absolutely takes being your partner as a sign that he must be at your side 25 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. i think this is expected to anyone wanting to be with doe. however, allow me to take it a step further:

mad seperation anxiety, will stand whining and clawing at the door while you piss so that he can grab onto you the second he hears the lock open

i fully think doe's music taste will give a person whiplash, he has like pitbull, weezer, crazy frog, and rammstein all in the same playlist

he rarely makes any sort of meals but when he does, they are weird. it'll either be the most vile, vomit-inducing, stomach clenching, nose covering pulsating mass of unknown substances amalgamated together like some unholy sacrifice to a god that shouldn't exist, but it'll taste absolutely heavenly. or it'll be the most beautiful, delicious looking meal that would have gordon ramsay himself falling flat on his knees and hailing it, and it'll taste like literal fucking sewer excretions. how he does it?? nobody knows

will do anything to make you happy. when i say anything i mean anything. ANYTHING.

keep this guy well away from memes, tiktok, any sort of internet humor. if he learns, you will never know peace again

on top of being afraid of water, i also think doe is afraid of vacuum cleaners, spray bottles, and occasionally when you sneeze, just like a cat. when he does, his hair stands on end and he leaps away from the offending object/noise, hissing loudly. if you scare him particularly suddenly, he'll make a very instinctive scramble to the top of the fridge (likely knocking many things over in the process, he's 5ft8 after all) and it may take a small while for him to come back down

particularly loves receiving forehead and nose kisses. they make him feel very comforted and cared for by you, in a way nobody else ever made him feel

if you ever want to pavlov him into a specific behaviour (eg, cleaning up after himself when he's at your apartment), it is very much possible and he will be particularly responsive to sour gummy worms as a treat

speaking of your apartment, he takes it as an absolute milestone in your relationship if you allow him to have some of his stuff stay in your apartment permanently, eg some clothes, his favourite blanket, his 'special occasion cutlery' (its a set of hello kitty plastic childrens cutlery, the print has halfway faded and the white parts have yellowed but you've never seen anyone look so vulnerable when they offered a plastic knife and fork to you, so now it stays in your cutlery drawer and doe grins and giggles happily everytime he sees it in there)

you may catch him trying to chew on your hair sometimes, while its still attached to you. unless you don't have hair, in which case he will simply gnaw on your scalp out of the blue. its a love language

okay that's all for now, hope you enjoyed, and if you guys wanna see some nsfw headcanons of doe i can absolutely arrange that <3

Jonathan: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Robin and Nancy's convo?

Argyle: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Eddie: I'm in the washing machine.

Steve: I'm in the closet.

Argyle: We accept you Steve. <3

Steve: No I'm literally in the closet.

Argyle: Love is love. <3

Kiss It Better

A/N- I've seen so many people talking about a Gareth fic where the reader helps him after Jason beats him up but I haven't seen any being posted! I guess I'm glad to be the first

Summary- Gareths neighbor comes over to see him with blood on his face and a nearly broken hand and decides to help fix him up

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- Mentions of blood

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @ahzysauce

As you were finishing this week’s homework at your desk in your bedroom, you heard a loud crash that seemed to come from just outside.

Being neighbors with Gareth, you knew that him and the other members of his band would get loud, but it was nothing like what you just heard. As you kept listening out your window you could hear yelling, from Gareth and another guy, you weren’t quite sure who, but you could definitely recognize the voice.

You heard speeding tires a few moments later and looked out your window, seeing Jeff and Grant helping Gareth up, his drum set almost destroyed behind him.

The two of you wouldn’t consider yourselves close by any means but growing up across the street from each other gave the two of you a pretty strange relationship. You would call him a friend, but the only time you spend together was at block parties or hanging out when your parents had dinner but really nothing more than that. Still, you cared for him.

He seemed a bit intimidating at first, but in reality, he was just quiet and shy. You knew how sweet he could he just from watching him play with his sisters and he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You quickly slipped your shoes on and made your way downstairs, just wanting to make sure he was ok. It was out of the ordinary for you to just go up and talk to him out of the blue but whatever happened you could definitely tell he was hurt.

“Hey,” you said as you made your way up his driveway, “are you ok?”

He shook his head, looking at the hand that was just covering his nose, seeing the fresh blood coating his fingertips,

“Jason…”

“Oh shit…” You took a few steps forward and looked at his cheek, a large cut and his nose had a small trickle of blood flowing from it, his face was swollen too, “do you need any help?”

He nodded as his friends let go of his arms. He tried to balance himself as his friends started picking up the different parts if his drum kit off the garage floor to put it back together,

“You guys clean that up, (y/n) would you help me inside?”

You nodded and grabbed his arm, slowly leading him inside.

Though you’d been over a handful of times, you’d never seen it empty. Every time you were over in the past it was either decorated for whatever holiday party your parents had dragged you to or filled with adults, but every time you and Gareth always found a way to spend time together. You’d go up to his room and watch whatever movies he rented for the week or listen to music and talk. One night a few months ago, the two of you were able to sneak off into the garage away from the parents and share a joint, talking about how strange it was to grow up across the street from each other your whole lives and yet you only ever hung out when your parents got together.

You’d wished that your next hang out was under different circumstances, though it was strange to be left all alone with him without having to worry about your parents finding you.

You had to admit, living across the street from Gareth definitely had its perks. You got to see his band during their rehearsals, you watched him play in the front yard with his sisters, and you had to admit he looked pretty cute when he was mowing the lawn shirtless in the summertime. And he could say the same about you. He got to see you in your driveway when your mom insisted on taking pictures on the first day of school every year, he was able to see your reaction when you got your first car, and he loved the view from his bedroom into your backyard, especially when you were lounging around in a skimpy bathing suit.

Most of the time he had to fight with himself over whether or not he should sneak a picture on his polaroid to keep all for himself.

He did feel a bit strange to be left all alone in his house with you, but now all he was focused on was making sure his blood didn’t drip onto the carpet.

You led him into an upstairs bathroom and sat him on the edge of the tub as you searched through the medicine cabinet and vanity drawers, looking for something to try and clean him up.

“Where do you guys keep your band aids?” You said, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton pads from under the sink.

Gareth pointed to the medicine cabinet, and you were able to find them, along with a bottle of Tylenol.

You set everything onto the counter and took one of the washcloths next to the sink, soaking it with cold water and handing it to Gareth to clean himself up. He winced as he pressed the cold fabric to his face, his hand red and bruised, struggling a bit to keep the cloth stable as he pressed it to his face.

“Here,” You sat in front of him and took the cloth from his hand, gently pressing it to the side of his face to try and let the cold ease the pain as it soaked up the bit of blood still trailing from his lip, “better?”

He nodded, and you gave him a shy smile as you sat there cleaning him up. The small spot of blood was able to be cleaned up pretty easily, thankfully it was nothing too severe, but the cut on his lip and the bruise on his cheek were another story. His hand would definitely need some ice too, especially with the condition it was in.

You removed the cloth from his face and set it onto the counter, grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton pads. You soaked the pads and set the bottle back onto the counter,

“This is gonna sting a little bit, ok?”

He took a deep breath and groaned as you pressed it gently to his lip, dabbing at it just a bit to clean it.

“It’s not so bad,” He said, trying to ease the tension as the two of you were so close together, “hurts a lot less than a punch.”

You softly giggled at how he managed to still make you laugh while he was so hurt. It was cute that he was trying to mask his pain, but you knew that he was hurting much more than he led on.

“Alright, I think the bleeding stopped, but you definitely need some ice on that hand.” You took his injured hand carefully into yours to look at it. It was red, bruised, and you could tell he was going to be in pain for the next couple of days, “I think you’ll live though.”

“Oh, thank god,” He said as the two of you stood up, his hand still in yours, “I was worried we’d have to amputate.”

You giggled again as you gently let go of his hand, putting away the cotton pads and antiseptic before pulling out a Band-Aid to put against his lip,

“Well, if you think it’s that bad, I can always just use a knife from the kitchen and save you some money.”

He tried to smile but winced from the cut on his lip. You opened the band aid and gently put it over the cut, your fingertips gently brushing over his lips, and you could see the faintest pink over his cheeks.

“There. How do you feel?”

“A little better… Still hurts but I think if I put some ice on it for a bit, I’ll be alright.”

The two of you exited the bathroom and made your way back downstairs into the kitchen.

“You sit, I’ll get you some ice.”

You rummaged through his freezer as he took a seat at the kitchen table. He looked at his hand and winced again as he tried to move his fingers, but you quickly stopped it as you sat next to him, two ice packs in your hand,

“Here, this one goes on your hand,” You said, placing one of the ice packs on top of his hand on the table, “and this one goes…” you said as you gently placed the other onto his cheek, “there.”

You smiled as he held the other ice pack to his cheek, his fingers gently brushing over yours as he held it. He smiled, laughing to himself.

“What’s so funny?” You asked him with a shy smile.

“It’s nothing, it sounds kinda weird…”

“It’s fine,” You said with a giggle, “it can’t be that bad.”

“Well, um…” He looked down at the icepack in his hand, trying not to look up at you, “it’s just been a while since you had to help fix me up you know? Got that weird déjà vu feeling of when we were little and fucking around in the street and I fell over on the curb and skinned my knee really bad.”

You giggled as you remembered that day, there was a block party, and all the kids were running in the street trying to pop all the giant bubbles from one of the other neighbors’ bubble machines. You couldn’t have been older than seven, and you and Gareth kept trying to see who could pop the most and while he was chasing after one, he wasn’t looking and tripped over the curb.

“Yeah, we didn’t want your parents to find out and get us in trouble for messing around in the street. I think I used that same bottle of antiseptic stuff; it looked pretty old.”

“I think so, yeah. Its weird, it felt almost the same, except it was my face that got all fucked up and not my knee.”

You smiled and gently bit your lip, looking down at his hand on the table,

“Yeah, and I didn’t try and kiss it all better like our moms did when we got hurt.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a moment. It was a bit awkward, and you both could tell you had the same thing on your mind.

“You know…” Gareth looked back up at you, breaking the silence, his cheeks and nose glowing the brightest shade of pink, “it might help a little bit.”

You looked back up at him, though your eyes darted back and forth between his eyes and his lips, and his did the same.

You couldn’t tell who moved first, but the two of you slowly inched closer to one another and before you could even process it, your lips were on his.

It was soft, gentle, and though it only lasted a few moments you could feel a gentle spark between you. You had barely seen each other as you grew older, only spending time together at neighborhood functions, and now you were kissing in his kitchen. Neither of you were sure of what to call this new ‘relationship’ you had, but whatever it was, it was nice.

As your lips parted, you both quickly looked to the garage door as Jeff and Grant made their way into the house,

“Hey man, we got your kit put all back together, I don’t think anything’s broken,” Jeff said as he shut the garage door behind him, looking back at the two of you at the table, your faces bright red and your eyes wide with the adrenaline of almost being caught, “you guys alright?”

“Yeah, you look kinda weird.” Grant said with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah were totally fine,” You said, trying to ease the tension from you and Gareth, “I was just going.” You stood up from the table and looked back down at Gareth, “I’ll see you around.”

You said with a smile, waving to him and his friends as you quickly left through the garage door.

“(Y/n)!” Gareth called out to you as he followed you out, reaching for your hand, but wincing once again as he forgot all about the pain, he was feeling in it, “You know um… You don’t have to if you don’t want to but, I was just thinking that maybe when my hand isn’t all fucked up, and my face is looking… like this,” he said with a nervous laugh, “maybe you’d want to um… do something?”

You giggled at his nervousness. He seemed so eager to kiss you and yet just asking you out made him so flustered; it was cute to see how nervous you made him even after watching each other grow up right across the street from one another.

You took a step forward and gave him another gentle kiss, catching him by surprise,

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You said with a smile, leaning in just a bit closer to him, whispering, “Tell your friends its rude to stare.” You gave him another gentle wave as you made your way down his driveway and back to yours.

He turned and saw Jeff and Grant standing in the doorway to the garage. Jeff smiled and approached him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder,

“Nice job man! I guess girls are into guys with scars.”

_______________________________________________

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Paul Dano characters + tumblr posts part 2

lol some Miami firefighter got suspended for texting this

sometimes I forget stranger things isn’t this little tight-knit tumblr fandom

I’ll see rednecks in my classes talk about the show and every single time I think I’m hallucinating

….like is this fandom not just a bunch of gay people on my phone…? nah no way