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#and I hate that. I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry and scared and alone
floral-hex · 10 months
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I’m fucking disabled
#I had this conversation with my therapist last week. I’ll give you the secret HIPAA breaking rundown#I HATE calling myself disabled#I don’t know why. there’s no shame in it. it’s just ya know it’s just what I am#but I still can’t get it into my head that yes I’m kinda fucking disabled#because here I am sitting on this creaky futon unable to understand anything anyone is saying to me bc my hearing is so bad#it’s a bad hearing day! it happens! some days are good! today is very much not so good!#so I told my therapist I’m way cool with telling people I have mental health issues#but when it comes to hearing it’s ‘oh no I’m not REALLY disabled. I just uhhhhh can’t uhhh fuckin hear sometimes 🤷🏻‍♂️ that’s normal right?’#and he’s like no my sweet boy you are disabled you need to own that shit#okay… he didn’t say it like that but this is my flashback please let me have this#let me be a sweetie boy in my own mind#he said it’s usually the reverse: people don’t like to admit mental health issues but will mention physical disabilities#I just… I spent 30 something years with great hearing and then it all just got taken from me out of the blue and no one knows why#and I hate that. I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry and scared and alone#and I hate admitting that yes I am disabled. like really disabled. it feels like defeat.#and it shouldn’t. like I said it’s just kinda what I am now. It’s like saying I breathe or I’m allergic to birds. it just is me.#sorry I’m just having a rough day#I got about an hour of sleep and now I’m holding down the fort while a home inspector and the new buyer look through the house#and I can’t talk to either of them. I can’t understand them talking to each other. it’s isolating.#I have therapy later and I’m hoping I’ll be able to communicate and hear during it. I really just need someone to talk to#I miss talking to people in person. I can still do that it just can take a bit of work and I hate subjecting people to putting up with me#I feel so needy. I just want some human connection. I want to know I can still make this work.#gosh this is whiny. sorry about that. just needed a quick vent to get me through the next few hours#anyway I love you. probably. maybe… ehhh#you can ignore this#text
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he opens the mail
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Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.
Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price
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“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 
“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 
You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 
You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 
“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”
You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,
“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”
He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 
“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”
“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”
Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,
“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”
You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 
You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 
“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 
“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 
He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 
“Fuck me!” He shouted. 
“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”
“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”
Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.
“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”
She gasped, 
“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”
She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 
“You alright?” You asked him. 
“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”
You nodded,
“Yeah, just in case.”
He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 
“Captain, are you okay?”
“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”
He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 
Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 
“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 
“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 
You inched closer to him,
“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”
“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 
You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,
“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”
His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 
“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 
You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,
“Ahh, careful.”
“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”
“No, doesn’t hurt.”
He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 
Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 
Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,
“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”
You escaped his jaws for a moment, 
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”
Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,
“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”
She sighed, typing something into her datapad,
“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”
She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,
“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”
Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 
“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”
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Part 2
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nearwildheaven · 1 year
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why do men have to ruin everything
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sensitivegoblin · 1 year
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…..
#I’m supposed to care and say the right thing 24/7 and be a good person so I can get to Heaven#but nobody thinks about what they say to me……….#fuck I’m so hurt and tired and in pain#i can’t even be mad at anyone but I’m just mad#i don’t blame anyone I blame myself for existing#i hate myself so much fuck why can’t I just do it already :((((((((((#I’m never gonna make it….#if my own family doesn’t understand anymore no one will#I’m doomed to be alone#this is why I hesitate when she offers to buy me things#and she thinks it’s just a funny way to get what I want#nope. cus I knew you’d do this.#fuck I wanna die so bad if I don’t feel better by the time they go to bed I’m fucking done#i don’t want anyone to be scared it probably won’t happen cus Im a fuck up at that too#but obviously everyone around me is suffering with my presence#fuck existing just isn’t worth it……#I’m just so angry at myself and everything and fuckfuckfuck#i hate myself so so much I’m crying n hitting myself#why can’t I be fucking normal what is wrong with me why do I cause everyone to suffer I’m not trying it#:((((((((((((((((#I’m calming down already but it’s not really calming down. it’s surpression.#her boyfriend is wrong ALOT cus he’s genuinely an idiot#but he’s also right a lot about her attitude n stuff#i dunno I’m just so over people doing stuff for me then shoving it in my face#i treat everyone how I wanna fucking be treated because I NEVER GET IT BACK#i dunno I’m so over everything I’m an angry apathetic now#I’m tired of not knowing what to do constantly
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES
warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.
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jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.
for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.
“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.
“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.
you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.
you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.
“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.
a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.
you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.
“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.
“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.
he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.
“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.
“fuck you.” he grumbles
“fuck you.” you hiss back.
done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.
intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,
jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.
“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.
“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.
“don’t. push. me.”
both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.
“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.
“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.
“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.
without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.
it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.
he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.
“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.
“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.
you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.
before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.
“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.
“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.
he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.
“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.
“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.
jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.
he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.
you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.
“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.
“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”
you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”
“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.
“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.
you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.
right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.
“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.
“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.
your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.
“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.
“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.
“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.
“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”
you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.
“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.
“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.
you smell so tempting and delicious.
your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.
jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.
“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.
you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.
pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.
“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.
“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.
hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.
“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.
hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.
tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.
your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—
“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.
“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”
“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…
“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”
“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.
“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.
your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.
“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.
tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.
“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.
you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.
he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.
“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”
right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.
if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.
“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.
too confused and trying to process what just happened.
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like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!
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emmyrosee · 2 years
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sssssSSSHHHHHHLEAVEMEALONE-
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You’d gone to bed angry last night.
It was a promise you’d made to each other long ago, back when you’d gotten into your first big fight in the early months of your relationship, to never go to bed angry, to work through and compromise with whatever problems plagued your love. No one deserved to go to bed thinking their partner was angry at them.
But when Bakugo spit his venomous words, turned on his heel and slammed your bedroom door shut last night to leave you with the shattered heart he’d just created, your feet couldn’t even begin to move towards the closed door. You didn’t want to face him, want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how bad he hurt you, and if he so badly didn’t want you in bed next to him, who were you to try and convince otherwise?
So, wordlessly, you climbed into the scratchy, lumpy couch he’d seemingly banished you to, and you pulled the too-small, too-thin blanket over you, and stared at the leather of the couch for the next six hours, the clock ticking all the while.
The rest of the morning was a blur; showered, brushed your teeth and had a cup of tea in the silence of it all, you’d finally found it in your means to make something to eat, and you’re also finally reminded of why you didn’t want to do that in the first place when a sleepy, albeit still tense Katsuki shuffles his way into the kitchen to face you for the first time since he’d yelled at you.
“Hey,” he mumbles, a calloused hand carding through the blonde locks of bed head that he sported. You don’t spare him a glance, instead, you keep slicing the fruit for breakfast, barely acknowledging him with a quiet, almost bored, ‘hi.’
In your peripheral, he winced at your coldness, clearly not used to it, “I… uh…” he chews his lip, and it’s a side of Katsuki you haven’t seen since high school, timid and hesitant to even look at you for fear of rejection. He’s always so confident in his snide remarks and quick reactions, but now he looks so… scared, like you’ll smack him with the pan you’re cooking on.
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” you mumble, breaking an egg in the pan and watching it sear under the heat of the stove. When you’re met with more silence, you force yourself to not look at the man you’d fallen so hard in love with, because you knew if you did, you’d immediately forgive him for the pain of last night.
“You didn’t come to bed,” he says, clearing his throat.
“You made it pretty obvious that you didn’t want me there,” your reply comes quick, and it silenced him immediately.
Then, the signals in your brain surge and cross as thick arms wrap around your waist and a face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and when you try to squirm out of his grip to be alone for even just a little bit longer before breakfast, the lips against your shoulder mumble out a quick, but sincere, ‘I’m sorry,’ and it finally causes you to still.
“I was shitty last night,” he continues. “I said dumb things to hurt you, and it… it wasn’t cool.” Fingers fiddle with the waist band of your sweats, but you know it’s more for search of your loving warmth than anything else. “I hated waking up without you. I always want you next me, I always want to kiss the corner of your eye to make you smile in your sleep, I always want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up. I don’t know how I knocked out last night without you. But this morning, when I saw you weren’t next to me, I just… Fuck, I can’t believe I ever-“
“Katsuki?”
He shuts up at the use of his name, whole body tensing and arms tightening even more around you, almost scared to loosen them. You sigh, “you just… hurt my feelings last night.”
He whimpers. So you rest a reassuring hand on his wrist.
“I know,” he swallows.
“I don’t understand why…”
“There’s not a ‘why,’” he sighs. “I just did, because I’m an asshole, and it was fucked up of me.”
You hum in agreement at his words, turning around in his arms to finally face him. His eyes look sunken in and they glimmer with a certain shame, but they’re still the eyes you fell in love with so many years ago.
“Please don’t talk to me like that again,” you whisper, fingers moving back a blond lock from his face. Meaty fingers wrap around your wrist to keep it close, and he turns his head to plant a kiss to your warm palm. “And… and no more going to bed angry.”
“We won’t, baby,” he promises, giving your wrist a reassuring squeeze. “I promise..” maroon eyes blink longingly at you before his pink pout curls into a small, rare smile. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper, allowing him to pull you into an easy hug. Your cheek nuzzles against his shoulder, relishing in the familiar feeling, “even if you are the worst man ever.”
He chuckles shortly, “I know, babe.”
“I mean like, an absolute monster-“
“Got it, I’m an asshole.”
“-worst creature to shamble the face of the earth-“
“I fucking got it, dumbass!” He snarls, using his force to shove you backwards against the counter, your arms instinctively tossing around him to brace yourself while giggles pour from your lips. “Enough fuckin’ guilt tripping!” The hands on your waist gently move to your lower back to keep them from getting bumped and bruised by the counter; even in his worst, he prepares himself to protect you from anything, no matter how mad he wants to pretend he is.
But you don’t discount the way you hear the smile in his voice, and when you feel it stretched out against the skin of your neck, the weight off your shoulders eases in realizing that you two would be fine.
7K notes · View notes
sooniebby · 1 year
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ఌ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
꧁ 𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖! 𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖! 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Teaser ➤ he loves what he can’t have
Word count › 1.6k
Rating › NSFT
Warnings › none
Kinks › a/b/o, light mention of creampie
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ BEGINNING
“What the fuck is your problem?” 
(Name) hated Geto. And he hardly hated most things. It was the day before December 24—a day that Geto will kiss the earth goodbye. But it didn’t matter right now. It’s not like he knew anyway. 
“I didn’t say anything. Does my presence anger you that much?” Geto asked, eyeing the man in front of him. His scent was sour—due to Geto being in front of him. 
(Name) rolled his eyes. “Knowing you’re still alive pisses me off. Now fuck off.” He said, turning to continue on his way home before he felt something behind him. 
He panicked, which in hindsight was such a stupid plan of action, and he fell back onto the concrete. On his back, he stared straight up at Geto who looked at him with a simple smile. He wished he could just kick that smile off his face. But he knew his strength level. 
No way in hell could he realistically fight against Geto and survive. 
“You act like an omega.” 
(Name) blinked before a growl left his throat. Being an omega wasn’t bad but it was certainly being used as an insult by Geto. He slowly stood up, wondering to himself if he should risk his life just to get a slap at Geto. 
He decided against it and rolled his eyes. “Better an omega than a brainless alpha.” With that, he side stepped Geto and continued on. 
But he didn’t get too far when he bumped into Geto. 
“Oh for fuck sakes!” (Name) yelled, wishing he hadn’t taken that late night mission for a random curse. He was just about ready to push Geto but was quickly stopped by him. 
Of course. How could he go against Geto with his noodle arms? (Name) stared at Geto, waiting for him to speak. Or possibly kill him. He wasn’t sure what was going on with Geto in the head these days. 
He’s changed from high school. 
“You’re not as smart as you seem.” 
“Oh okay. If I wanted to get insulted I would’ve went to my mother. Thank you,” (Name) laughed bitterly before prying himself out of Geto’s grip. He was shocked, a bit scared really, at how easily he bruised from it. 
Geto shook his head. “I like you.” 
(Name) blinked. He stared. 
And then he walked away. 
What type of sick joke was that?! 
“Hey!” 
(Name), he would never admit this, shrieked when he was grabbed by his shoulders and shoved up against the nearby tree. Only the street lamp in the park illuminated the angry look on Geto’s face. He sighed softly before pulling at (Name)’s sweater, revealing his neck. 
“Oi, what the—?!” 
“You’re really dense.” Geto muttered. “Since my previous actions never worked—I’m trying something different.” 
And then he bit him. (Name) choked, reaching up to grasp his shoulders but he didn’t push away. He was an alpha… but he liked this. It was going to leave a scar but he was into it. But he wasn’t about to get used by Geto for some quick sex. 
(Name) moved his hand and scratched at Geto’s neck, causing him to pull away. He didn’t even show any ounce of pain. (Name) really was weak compared to him. 
“I’m not some quick fuck. Especially if you’re trying out alphas. Go to Gojo if you want that.” 
Something flickered in Geto’s eyes but it was gone in as fast as it came. He only chuckled. 
“It’ll be fun.” 
“Yeah, sure it will.” 
“I mean, you’re a virgin. How could you know unless you tried?” 
(Name) blinked. 
“Okay, get the fuck off me.” 
“I can easily change that.” 
“I don’t want you near my ass.” 
Geto smirked. “So you know I’ll fuck you?” 
“If I let you fuck me will you leave me alone?” 
A flicker of disappointment was on Geto’s face before he quickly hid it. “Yes. Are you sure you can handle an Alpha’s cock though?” 
“I’m sure an alpha can handle another alpha,” (Name) rolled his eyes. 
And how wrong he was… 
“Do you think any of those monkeys could satisfy you like this?” 
(Name) mewled in pain at the newly fresh bite on his neck. He hated how good this felt. The two of them got to (Name)’s apartment and Geto was on him as soon as the door closed. (Name) didn’t want to know why Geto was so experienced: easily tearing off his clothes and using the lube to open his ass. 
It was certainly an odd experience. How could an omega actually like having a finger up their ass? (Name)’s cock was aching to release his knot but Geto would always squeeze it whenever he felt he was too close. 
“You seem… nng, obsessed with those ‘monkeys’ you hate,” (Name) gasped at the squeeze on his knot. He muttered out an apology as Geto pulled out his fingers, licking them as (Name) watched in embarrassment. 
“Disgusting…” (Name) muttered. 
Geto simply hummed as he pulled down his pants, letting out his cock. (Name) blinked in fear. Holy shit. He was larger than him in every category. The knot, the length, the thickness.
How the fuck was that supposed to fit in his non-omega ass?! 
“Don’t look so scared. You handled my fingers well—my knot should be easy.” Geto grinned. 
(Name) was scared and he did not try to hard it as he watched Geto slowly push it inside of him. It was painful. He would not lie to himself that he felt like crying as his scent soured once more. Geto’s own scent was hardly there. It was never really there, even in the past. 
He had said he just learned to hide his scent… But right now, like an omega, (Name) wanted to smell something calming that contrasted his own. But he didn’t want to ask that. It felt odd for an alpha to ask about something like that from another alpha. 
(Name) gripped the bedsheets underneath him, hoping it would get easier soon. But his knot stopped him. Geto’s knot was too fucking big to fit inside of him. (Name) whined in embarrassment, ignoring the chuckle he got from Geto. 
“You need to relax. It can’t go in if you’re tight.” 
“Don’t talk about me like that…” (Name) muttered but tried to calm his nerves. It was hard but he tried to calm himself. An unknown smell began to intertwine with his own. It was Geto’s… 
(Name) would never tell him, and he would never get to, that his scent was the most calming one he’s ever smelt. It was a basic vanilla swirled with cinnamon. He hated how his heart swelled and he wanted to smell this forever. 
He wanted to be drenched in it. Could an alpha really like another alpha’s smell this much? 
Before he could ask this question, he came. His orgasm was the most intense thing he had ever felt. Back arching and mouth opened wide in an open scream. And it all only happened because Geto’s cock was now fully inside of him. 
(Name) didn’t dare look at Geto. He knew the little shit would be grinning like he won. (Name) could tell that his knot was still there. Despite him cumming, it still swelled, ready for release. 
Geto leaned down and easily pushed (Name)’s legs up towards his head. A simple grin on his lips as he bit harshly on the fresh tanned skin beneath him. He wanted to make sure (Name) would wake up with these marks for weeks on end. 
If only he was an omega he could mark as his forever. 
He pushed it into the back of his mind as he began thrusting, enjoying the way (Name) tried his hardest to hide his moans. Each little thrust touched something deep inside of (Name) that he’s never touched before. 
He remembered his alpha friends talking about it before but he never knew he was missing something this pleasurable. The sound of squelching from the copious amount of lube they had to use for a hole not made for penetration was taking over the room. 
His bed squeaked as the thrusts got quicker. Geto’s unusual strength beginning to shine through with each particular thrust. The little moans coming out of his mouth was that similar to an omega. 
It shouldn’t have turned him on but it did. He truly felt like he was becoming Geto’s. 
Embarrassingly enough, the sex didn’t last long. Geto seemed ready to pop his knot much faster than (Name) anticipated. But he was glad, because he was holding in his knot so he wouldn’t embarrass himself cumming first. 
“Are you ready for my knot?” 
“Eh?” Was all (Name) could say before he felt the similar pulsating that he knows is a knot swelling into release. He whined in distress before being pulled into a surprise kiss. It stopped any sort of complaints on his lips as he, embarrassingly, returned the kiss in full. 
He loved it. He wanted to stay like this with Geto. The feeling of his seed coating his inside as if he was an omega. The feeling of his lips on his as they kiss in the moonlight seeping from his closed curtains. The feeling of his hands on his body. 
The warmth that they’ll no longer hold. 
They pulled away from the kiss and stared at each other. There was no longer any words exchanged. It was silent. But that was all they needed. 
But in the morning, he was gone. 
It was a new year. (Name) still hated Geto. He also came to hate Gojo but it was for a silly reason. 
(Name) cleaned off any dust he got from his recent fight and was ready to get home. The bite marks that Geto had once given him were beginning to fade and he wasn’t sure if he was sad or relieved he wouldn’t see them in the mirror anymore.
He yawned to himself and covered his katana with it’s usual bandage until he felt someone in the building with him. 
He turned around quickly, aiming his katana at their chest, ready to cuss out whoever it was until his nose smelt something. Something he hadn’t smelled since a few weeks ago. 
“Geto….?” 
“Now you and I both know it’s no longer Geto in this body, (Name).” 
Oh, he fucking hated Geto Suguru. 
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ END
Requested by @xweirdo101x
This came out way more sad than I originally planned but I wanted to show off my angst chops!
Thanks for the request! My requests are open if interested!
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ghostofwriting · 26 days
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Kildare Split Part Two: Place In Me
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter 2: Place In Me
Note: Me: I don't know when I'll post chapter 2 maybe on the weekend but who knows. Also me: posts 3 hours after saying that. Once again I wanted to thank everyone for reading and interacting! I appreciate all of you so much. Not edited so be warned. I confused everyone with part 21 and this doesn't provide any answers! Just more context for other parts of the smau. Enjoy!
Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean, y/n being mean
Word Count: 3,371
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Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
She thought that she made herself clear and that they understood where she was coming from after her speech in the green room.
She’s not expecting Barry to be sitting on the couch of the tour bus she had chosen to sleep in, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead from her run, slightly out of breath. 
When she opens the door and sees him sitting there, she jumps.
“Fuck, Barry what the hell?” Barry had a very specific regime for show days. He should’ve been napping on the other bus.
“We can’t go on hiatus. You’re being selfish.” She feels her ears start burning, she scoffs at him. 
“Selfish? You better be kidding me. The audacity of you to come in here and accuse me of being selfish?”
“Y-” She doesn’t let him continue.
“I have put up with this bullshit for two years, Barry! Just because I’m tired and need a break doesn’t make me selfish.”
“If you would just talk to him.”
“No. Fuck you. No.”
“If you talk to him, and he explains himself, you’ll understand and this can all go back to normal.”
“No. I will not fix this. I don’t need to fix this.”
“What happened to be there for each other?”
“Barry. You and Topper were supposed to be there for me!” She snaps, her voice rising.
“You were the only people who knew exactly what I was going through not only with Rafe but with the fame and the drugs and the people wanting things from me. You were going through it too, I know you were. But you abandoned me the second Rafe decided to what? Get in a relationship? You threw me away, I was so alone!” 
Tears are threatening to spill over now. She hates how she can’t get angry without crying. 
“I went through everything by myself and the people I thought were my best friends abandoned me. I get it okay. You chose your boy. But I thought I meant something to you. I thought I was your friend. He broke my heart and my spirit.” She stops to catch her breath, “I was a shell of a person and you still didn’t even ask me if I was okay. In two years you haven't checked in.”
“y/n..”
“He told me he didn’t want to live without me and the next day I found out he was seeing Sofia. And suddenly I wasn’t his friend or his bandmate or even a person. I was just someone he fucked. And I don’t care why he said that. I don’t care if he meant it or not or if he was lost and scared. He still said it. I’m done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this Los Angeles, I’m done. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t need to talk to him.” She finishes her chest heaving. Barry is staring at her, eyes wide.
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the band. But it’s work. That’s all. We aren’t friends.” 
Barry’s silent. Still sitting on the bus couch. 
“Get out. Please.” 
+++
The early days of getting over Rafe were hard. She wanted to go back to who she was before him. The version of herself before she got involved with him. Journaling and writing song lyrics and poems could only do so much. Everyone told her that she needed someone else. She understood that but she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to get her heartbroken all over again. 
Not when she constantly got her heart broken on tour, not only when she saw Rafe making out with Sofia backstage but when Barry walked right by her without acknowledging her existence, or when Topper pretended not to hear her. Her heart cracked every time for the little girl who trusted these boys with her entire being and let them in only for them to stomp all over her. 
She spent endless nights on tour, alone in her hotel room crying at the top of her lungs and on the tour bus muffling the sound of her sobs with her pillow. So when people suggested she needed to meet someone to get over him, well, it didn’t sound like a good idea to just let someone else in to break her even more when they eventually left. 
It got better little by little, the heartache over her friends hating her. The heartbreak over Rafe choosing someone who wasn’t her, someone who was worth it. The loneliness never did. It was crippling how alone she felt. There were times when she wanted to go back to the drugs, drinking, and partying. She would feel so much better if she just couldn’t feel anymore. She didn’t go back on the promise that she made to herself. She would never be that afraid high out of her mind 17-year-old girl again. 
She isn’t sure if she gets over Rafe or if she learned to live with the pain. Sometimes she thinks she’s so angry at him and that’s the reason she doesn’t want him. She misses him all the time, she thinks she’ll miss him forever. At least who they were before they had sex and fucked it all up. 
She lets everyone know that when the time comes she’ll make them all aware. Cleo tells her that she better be the first one who finds out she’s seeing someone. She tells her that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
The day she met him was one of the most ordinary days she had lived in her entire life. She had woken up in her Los Angeles apartment, made herself breakfast, gone for a swim and gotten ready for the day. She didn’t have anything planned for the day, maybe tidy up a little, call Sarah, and run some errands. The craving to make brownies hits her out of nowhere, she doesn’t have any of the ingredients at her house though, the life of a touring artist. 
She’s leaving the grocery store with her reusable bags filled to the brim with all her cravings. She’s digging in her tiny pink purse that can’t hold anything for her keys when she drops two of her bags. 
She doesn’t want to get angry when she sees everything fall, she stares at it for a second, takes a deep breath and moves to pick it up. Once she gets everything together and packed up in her car, she decides that she needs a little treat for putting up with her groceries falling.
Her favorite pastry spot in LA is right by a hotel where all the celebrities who don’t live in the city full time. It’s usually a curse because everyone is hanging out or camping outside the hotel for a small glimpse of someone famous.
She thanks Caroline, the bakery owner and steps out of the store without looking at where she’s going. She feels herself collide into something strong and hard. Someone. Her pastries shake in the box. Of course, this would happen too. Why can’t she just keep herself from dropping her food today?
“I am so sorry.” She says to the man standing in front of her. He’s pretty, she thinks. Dark brown hair, almost black, brown eyes that look very familiar, and strong, and his arms are bulging where his black shirt sleeve ends. He’s hot. 
“Don’t worry, you’re fine.” She hears his friend behind say something in a different language and the man in front of her shakes his head and smiles at her. 
“Are they making fun of me for being a klutz?” He laughs. 
“No, they think it’s funny that I would run into my celebrity crush. Literally.” Any other time, if someone confessed that she was their celebrity crush, she would run so far so fast. Something keeps her there, smiling like an idiot, at a loss for words. She says the first thing that pops into her head.
“Have we met? You look familiar.” She feels like she’s seen him somewhere but she can’t place him. 
“Mira que te ha visto a través de la ventana.” one of his friends says, he shushes him not even turning to look. 
“I’m an actor?” He says it like a question, his cheeks flush, and he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing. 
“Yeah? Have I seen anything you’ve been in?” 
“I doubt it.” 
“So as your celebrity crush, it seems that I have a responsibility to watch whatever you’ve been in, don't you think?”
“No way.” He smiles at his friends doing a quiet chant of something behind him.
“No? Not even if you join me and walk me through it?” She knows she’s giving him eyes now, looking at him through her eyelashes, fluttering her eyelids a little too much. Her resolve is gone, she doesn’t know where her confidence is coming from and she’s going to use it until it’s gone. 
“We could arrange that,” he pauses, “Julio.” He extends his hand out for her to shake. 
“Y/N.” and maybe when she takes his hand she feels a shock run up her arm. 
Maybe she’s being dramatic and jumping the gun but what if everything she’s been through led her to this moment? Right here with him. 
+++
When Rafe finds out Y/N is seeing someone he tries not to lose it. He knows he has no right. His palms start sweating. He feels his breath shorten, he’s honestly a mess though he doesn’t show it. 
At least not until Topper pushes him on the subject when they’re left alone. 
“She’s seeing someone.” The room is eerily quiet, they’re in the studio recording their second album. Y/N had gone off to probably call her boyfriend and Barry was off doing who knows who.
“Yeah.” He’s short with his answer, scrolling on his phone to distract himself from the ever-intrusive thoughts of her her her. 
“You good?” No. No, of course he’s not good.
“I have Sofia.” Topper clears his throat and continues his torture on him. 
“Doesn’t answer my question.” 
“Yeah.” He looks over at Topper, his eyebrows lifting in acknowledgement.
They stay quiet for a few more minutes, the questions and thoughts and everything eating at him.
“Who’s the guy?” The question forces its way out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to know anything about the man that holds her heart.
“Some actor,” Topper responds nonchalantly, looking at him like he’s going to blow up if he moves anymore.
“Cool.” He wants to claw his heart out. What the fuck is happening to him right now.
“Rafe.” Topper isn’t convinced that it’s cool at all. Because Rafe can lie to everyone in his life but not Topper.
“No yeah, that’s cool. It’s great, yeah, good for her.” He knows he still doesn’t sound convincing.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Let her be happy.” He’s going to be mature about this. He asked Sofia to marry him last year for god sake. If he gets to be happy, she does too. Is he happy?
“Rafe.” Fucking Topper and his questions.
“I’ve fucked her life up enough. She deserves this. Deserves someone.” It spills out of him again, his eyes meeting with Topper’s, begging him to stop. 
“Do you ever miss her?” Topper’s not showing him any mercy today, wanting to know everything he’s kept inside for the past two years.
“More than anything.”
“You fucked up” understatement of his life. He ruined her and in turn, ruined himself. He was stupid and selfish and he deserved the worst.
“Yeah.”
+++
“You have to apologize to her.” Rafe’s once again fiddling with his guitar. The arena is empty except for the techs playing with lightingThe stage had been set up the night before. Y/N was with Sarah exploring the city before she had to be back for soundcheck. Barry was taking a nap and Topper was being a pain in his ass. He tweeted some bullshit at him and Rafe had called him back to talk.
“I don’t have to do anything, she’s leaving.”
“Yeah because of you. Because of what you did to her.”
“I seem to remember that you were included in isolating her.”
“That only happened because she was so hurt she pushed everyone away and I thought I would make it worse by forcing her to talk. Anyway, that’s between y/n and I. You need to take responsibility, Rafe.”
“For what? It wasn’t my fault I didn’t love her.”
“Oh fuck off Rafe. You loved her. You were just scared.”
“Of course I was scared! It could’ve ruined everything. The band, our careers.”
“You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved.”
“I couldn’t help it!” He closes his eyes, doing the breathing exercises they taught him in rehab, in therapy. 
“Please, just talk to her.” 
“She doesn’t want to hear it.”
“You have to try!’
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Because I’m engaged. I’m with Sofia and I’m happy and if,” he breathes “if y/n were to even give me the slightest greenlight I would burn my whole relationship to the ground. Her whole relationship.” He says the last part under his breath, hoping Topper doesn’t hear it.
“What the fuck, Rafe?”
“I know.”
“Why now?”
“I did and said some shit back then to not fuck up the band. It was wrong, stupid and childish. It’s not a question of ‘why now,’ I never stopped.”
“You still love her.” Rafe doesn’t confirm or deny it. Topper shakes his head. 
“You need to apologize.” Topper leaves Rafe to strum his guitar in thought. 
+++
Everything changes when he comes into her life. It’s like she was living in this deep black hole of anger, sadness, and endless turmoil. He’s her calm. He grounds her and she feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t felt wanted in such a long time and even though they are long distance most of the time between his film schedule and her tours, she has never felt alone since meeting him. 
She has a video from him every time she wakes up in the morning. Sometimes it’s just him telling her something that happened to him during the day, or a funny story, and sometimes he sings. She wishes she could drop an album just to feature him on it. She wants the entire world to know that he’s hers and she’s his and she is so incredibly in love. 
It’s scary going from such a low to such a high. The extreme contrast is intimidating at times but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She learned what she wanted in a relationship from an extremely difficult situation and somehow it was all worth it as long as she got to have him in her life. 
They’re together for a year before it gets out. They chose to be private about their relationship, it’s easy when he’s halfway across the world most of the time. That doesn’t stop her from spending every single moment that she isn’t on tour or in the studio next to him in Spain, Italy, France. She loves him. She would do anything for him. She knew that he was the one three weeks into their relationship and when she told him and he told her he felt the same, it confirmed it.
It’s her fault it gets out, he said it was about time and he wasn’t mad about it at all. 
Sometimes she still finds that deep-seated anger she holds for Rafe bubbling over. It’s all-consuming and she can’t stop the venom that leaves her body.
When Rafe’s engagement gets out, she and Julio step out on a date night. Cleo calls the paparazzi for her. It’s a great plan until everyone is freaking out because they’re convinced she and Rafe were dating this entire time.
She loves her fans but sometimes the theories and threads get a little too much. Mostly because they’re correct most of the time. 
At first, she was scared of Julio seeing all those things and seeing how everyone wanted her and Rafe to get married. She was scared he was going to run away. It never seemed to faze him. He never not once doubted her. He understands how people get and believes her when she tells him she chooses him for the rest of forever.
+++
Topper’s words haunt him. He wants to apologize to her and give her and himself some form of closure. He doesn’t know how to approach it. They haven’t talked in years, not really. How does he talk to the person that he hurt so much?
He catches her after soundcheck one day, his wringing his hands together, riddled with anxiety. 
“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out after her as she passes him.
She slowly turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him in surprise. 
“What can I do for you?”
He gulps as she looks at him expectantly.
“I was wondering if you had listened to the album?” What? Why the hell did he open with that?
“Why would I listen to the album?” She asks incredulously 
“Well, because I mean it’s about,” he stumbles over his words, “I just wish you would listen to it and maybe hear me out.”
“You want me to listen to your album so that I can hear you?” She nods her head and puckers her lips. 
 “It’s so stupid that after all these years you can’t apologize to my face so you what? Make an album? Is your apology hidden in there somewhere?” 
“Yes-No, I just think that if you gave it a chance, we could talk about it.”
“You want me to pretend to give a shit about your album when you can’t tell me how you feel right now in person?” She’s laughing a little now. Shocked at his suggestion. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Please, can you just listen?” 
“No Rafe. I am so done with this. I have been done with this. I don’t care about your album, I don't care about you.” Her words hit him like knives in his heart.
“Why do you care about my opinion about your album? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that your album is about me? You called it Angel, Rafe! The fucking nickname that you gave me when we were 12 years old! I’m not some dumb girl who you can just manipulate and get whatever you want out of her. Not anymore. I am not that person for you.” She stops, her hands coming down from where she was waving them. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and he has a ball the size of a grapefruit stuck in his throat.
“You made it incredibly clear to me that you don’t think of me as a person. Like- what did you say to me? That I’m just a fuck?” He grimaces when she throws his words from three years ago back at him. 
“Yeah, you said I’m just some girl you fuck, ‘you’re just some girl I fuck I don’t care about you.’ Sound about right?” He can’t move. He’s frozen.
“You could have worded it a million different ways and still gotten your message across. You could have been so much nicer. Let me down easy. Let me know in a better way that you found someone that you wanted to get to know. I would’ve put everything aside and just been your friend but no, you decided that I meant nothing to you, that everything we had been through, everything we had built, Our friendship was not important to you.”
 “Because I’m just someone you fucked. So, Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my opinion because you’re just someone I fucked too and someone that I no longer care about. You are just my bandmate. You are just a coworker, I don’t think of you. I’m done with you. Keep your album. Good luck.”
He was so fucked. It would be a miracle if he ever got her to forgive him.
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months
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Hated - Ethan Landry - Part 1
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Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT. - Minors DNI
Part 2
Summary: Ethan's hated you for a while, but a little bit of time alone and a heated argument leads to something more.
A/N: There will probably be a part 2, but I'm not sure if I like this.. If you guys have any requests, please send them in. I need ideas!
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You loved hanging out with your best friend, Chad. The only downside to the friendship: His roommate hated your fucking guts.
You thought Ethan was cool when you first met him at a party with the “Core Four”, but that changed once you started to spend so much time with Chad. He rolled his eyes whenever you spoke, made comments about the way you dressed at parties, and just seemed to loathe your presence.
One day, you arrived at Chad’s before he made it home from class. Ethan didn’t want to let you in, but it was cold outside, and he wasn’t heartless. You both took a seat on the couch, him on one end, you on the other. After a while of you both scrolling through your phones, you finally decided to speak.
“Why do you hate me?” You asked, not looking up from your phone. You saw his head snap in your direction in your peripheral vision.
“Why wouldn’t I hate you?” He scoffed, and it took everything in you to not slap him.
“You didn’t answer my fucking question,” The irritation in your voice obvious.
“Maybe it’s the way you play dumb all the time whenever you’re studying with Chad. Maybe it’s how you dress like you’re looking for attention whenever we go out. Maybe it’s the way you flirt with anything that fucking walks. Shit, all those things would be a good enough reason to hate you, don’t you think?” His condescending tone was infuriating.
You stood up in front of him, “First off, you make it sound like I’m just out there fucking everybody, which isn’t true. I haven’t had sex since my boyfriend and I broke up before I even came here. Second, even if I was trying to find someone to fuck, that’s none of your business. It’s not my fault that you’re jealous.” Your words set Ethan off.
He jumped up too, inches away from you, “No, what IS your fault is knowing I had a crush on you, making out with me after that party, and then acting like it never fucking happened!”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, as his face twisted in disbelief.
“You don’t remember me taking you back to your dorm because you were too scared to walk alone? You don’t remember inviting me in? You don’t remember moaning my name when I was kissing your neck?” At this point, he was pacing. Seeing him this angry was a turn on, so you decided to press further.
“I was WASTED, Ethan. Plus, I have a hard time believing that you made me moan.” He stopped pacing, staring you down. His eyes were lust-filled, and you could see he was starting to get hard through his sweatpants.
“I guess you don’t remember asking me to fuck you either, huh?” he asked, stepping closer to you.
You smirked, “What if I asked you to fuck me now?”
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Within seconds, you were in his room. As soon as he closed the door, you were up against it. His mouth attacked yours as you lightly ran your fingers under his shirt and over his abs.
You both hurried out of your clothes. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and up to this point you thought Ethan was a virgin, but now you aren’t so sure.
Once you were on his bed, he kissed you all down your chest, paying extra attention to your nipples. You were a moaning mess within minutes, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.
He started to kiss further down your body, the anticipation killing you as he inched closer to where you needed him the most. He suddenly stopped, and you shot up to whine in protest.
“Hey, I want to make sure you’re okay with everything I’m doing. If it’s too much or if it’s not enough, tell me. If you want me to stop, tell me. I want you to feel good.” For the first time in months, you’re seeing the Ethan you first met. The kind, sweet, caring Ethan. You almost didn’t know what to say with the complete personality switch.
“This isn’t a hate-fuck thing anymore, is it?” you asked, as he started to blush.
“I kinda pictured my first time to be a little more…intimate, I guess? If you want to stop, I understand,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
You were in shock, thinking there’s no way this man exuded this much confidence and had you so turned on, but was still a virgin.
“We can keep going, if that’s okay with you. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with,” you said, before placing your lips on his.
He started to kiss down your body again, spreading your legs to kiss you as far down as he could. He placed a gentle lick to your clit, testing the waters to see if that felt good. His eyes connected with yours, “Keep doing that, baby,” you said, as he continued. It felt good, but you needed a little more.
Before you could say anything, you felt one of his fingers slip inside you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, as he found that special spot. He added another finger as his mouth got more aggressive on your clit. You wanted to praise him for doing such a good job, but your brain was turning to mush as you felt your orgasm building.
You felt yourself tightening around his fingers, unable to control the moans coming out of your mouth. Once that wave of ecstasy hit, you were thrown into the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Ethan couldn’t stop staring at this blissful expression on your face, so happy that he was the one to make you feel good.
“I know you’re a virgin, but there’s no way you haven’t done that before,” you said, smirking as your breathing steadied.
“That was the first time,” he whispered, as we heard the front door close.
You mumbled ‘fuck’ under your breath as you scrambled to grab your clothes off the floor, putting them on as quick as possible.
“Roomie, you here?” Chad yelled from the other side of the door. You had a look of panic on your face, terrified that he would open the door.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, as he put his clothes back on.
“This isn’t over yet,” you whispered, nibbling on his ear lobe.
“Promise?” he whispered as you both walked out of the room.
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pookie-and-cereal · 10 months
Text
Random Dialogue +Prompts
Thank you so much for over 200 followers 😭🫶🏽
"Let’s just clarify, I don’t like you," "you’re holding my hand," "T-That’s— different!"
"I hate myself," "I love you though…" "I hate myself a little less,"
"Stop smirking! We’re in the middle of an argument!"
"Could you stop playing the same song over and over again?!"
"You’re an asshole," "But you love me,"
"Are you crying—?" "NO," "Ok. Alright, you’re not crying. But let me at least hug you,"
"I don’t wanna sound possessive, but— remember, you’re not with that asshole anymore. You belong to me. Understand?"
"So this was all a set up? You weren’t really in a relationship?! AM I REALLY THAT BLIND???"
(They’re drunk) "I love you," "As in a friend right-?" "Bitch, what the fuck. We’re dating!"
"I don’t wanna talk about it," "Ok. If you’re not comfortable sharing. That’s okay, if you don’t want me to be clingy right now, that’s okay too,"
"Fuck this shit! This! This belongs to me! And only me!"
"I can’t believe you were with that person, for three years,"
"I love you," "You don’t need to say that every time we see each other," "I know. But, I’m scared that one day if I won’t, you’ll die without hearing me say I love you!"
"Stop hugging me," "I can’t hear you~" "If you don’t stop hugging me, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to use your hands again,"
"Awe~ are you angry? It seems like you’re angry," "Yeah I’m angry! You know why? Because of your stupid smile and stupid life intervened into mine!"
"Stop moving," "Why..? Oh—"
"Let’s just stop pretending we think of each other as friends,"
"Stop whispering into my ear!" "But— that’s my only way of seducing you!" "WHAAAAT?!"
"Sly fox, dumb bunny" "Hmm. More like, dumb fox, sly bunny,"
"What?" "What, what?" "You’re looking at me weird," "I’m not!" "Uh huh,"
"Uh— hehe, this an awkward situation. Isn’t it?"
"I love you, but, I’m not just going to ignore the fact that you’re trying to seduce me,"
"Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Lay down for me darling,"
"Stop looking at me like that!"
"I don’t want to be alone, don’t leave me!"
"Were you— just—" "NO, what made you think that!?"
"Get off of me"
"Stop breathing into my ear!"
"Why are you sweating?" "I— uh," "Need some help?" "Maybe?"
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agoodroughandtumble · 2 months
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Roronoa Zoro x Reader - I Didn't Need Saving Part 2
Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is hurt after battling with the marines Warnings: 18+. Language, injury, implied violence (in keeping with the show)
It wasn’t Zoro’s proudest moment, walking away from you. Not when you were injured, not when you were looking at him so desperately. Not when the entire situation was a direct consequence of his actions. You had saved his life, thrown him away from a danger his arrogance hadn’t even registered. And now you were beaten and broken all because of the misguided assumption that somehow his life was more precious than your own.
Fuck he hated you. Hated that you could so casually throw away everything, hated that you were so stupid enough to think that it would be possible for him to carry on without you.
He didn’t know what love was but if it was self-loathing and guilt at your expense he had that in abundance. If it was the way your smile made his heart leap, the overwhelming urge to be close to you, to be good enough for you, to rip open his chest and let you make yourself a home there, well, then he was fucked beyond all reprieve.
Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was the worst thing. Either way, he wasn’t going to risk being alone with you again. At least he could be certain of that.
Two days later he was stood outside your door. Pacing. Nami had said you had been asking for him. That meant one of two things: Nami was tired of covering his shifts so was passing on the buck, or you actually wanted to see him. Which, after how he left you, was not something he was particularly looking forward to. Unfortunately, you were a request he was fundamentally unable to refuse – even if he had actually wanted to.
Hence his pacing.
The irony was not lost on Zoro. The Demon Pirate Hunter was scared of a girl with a hole in her side. But scared of what he wasn’t quite sure. Scared you would yell at him, or be disappointed, angry, spit venom at him again. But what if you didn’t. What if he allowed himself to consider the possibility that you felt a fraction of what he felt? What if you had saved his life because it was him and not because he was a crew member and you were clearly an idiot with a death wish.
Guilt prickled its way up his spine. He was, at least, going to have to acknowledge you at some point. He knocked on the door frame – the door being open in case of an emergency, but he had deliberately been pacing out of sight.
No answer.
Fine. Good. He could leave now – tell Nami he tried but you weren’t up for seeing anyone.
He made it two steps.
Fuck.
Zoro turned around and walked into the room with the determination that only someone who nearly lost it all could have. He’d come this far.
“Come to kill me then?” There was humour in your voice, albeit laced with sarcasm.
He let out a relieved sigh. Maybe you weren’t that pissed off with him. “Only if you pull a stunt like that again.”
You shuffled under the covers and he couldn’t help but be grateful at the ease with which you seemed to move. “I’m promising nothing.”
“Yes you are.”
His sudden serious tone caught you off guard and you hoisted yourself onto your elbows, and although Zoro would rather you didn’t exert yourself he was glad to see you moving without wincing.
You looked at him expectantly, “What am I promising?”
He slumped onto the chair Nami had placed at your bedside and rested his swords against the wall by the headboard next to you. “You’re promising not to leave me.”
You rolled your eyes. The nonchalance with which he spoke failing to convey his meaning until it was too late. “I didn’t leave y- … oh.”
Once again, Zoro felt the familiar rising of guilt starting at the base of his spine, slowly traversing upwards as he watched a thousand expressions cross your face, felt the weight of a thousand unspoken promises embedded in his shoulders. When he looked down at you it was nigh on impossible to say anything that wasn’t his hopeful heart trying to meet yours. He cast his gaze very firmly on anything, everything that was decidedly not you. Anything but you. “A swordsman is no swordsman if he can’t protect his friends.”
Your face dropped only a fraction of a second sooner than his heart. “Well I’m glad we’re friends.”
Zoro searched for some sarcasm only to be met with something else. It was a rare shade on you – embarrassment - and one he didn’t much care for. He sighed. Somehow he had already managed to make things worse. Not for the first time, he wished he could be someone else for you. Someone better. Someone like Luffy with his endless optimism to put a smile on your face, someone like Usopp to take you on an adventure with his fantastical tales. Hell, even someone like that shitty cook who never had any inhibitions when professing his undying love to whichever woman was the latest to catch his eye. But he was Zoro. And apparently that meant all he was good for was failing you.
Failure was not something he was accustomed to. His whole life was built around striving for perfection – whether that was through swordsmanship or being first mate. Failure seeped into his bones, became an obsession, clawing at him. And here you were, unbeknownst and unapologetic. Seeped into his bones. Carving your way into his soul as if it was the easiest thing in the world, as if you had belonged there all along. But you were friends. Because Zoro had failed. Again.
He really should have brought some sake with him. The look of uncertainty, the way you pulled the covers to try to hide as much as yourself as possible, make yourself smaller would be much easier to swallow washed down with alcohol.
He wanted to reach a hand out, rub a reassuring thumb across your cheek. To tell you he was being an arsehole – to somehow articulate that the feeling of hope of reciprocation your actions had arisen in him could in no way compare to the fear of losing you. He wanted to tell you he wasn’t worthy of such an act – and he was so, so angry that you would rather he lost his soul, his heart, his only chance at true happiness over his life. He could happily, willingly, die a thousand deaths if you lived. But if you died. If you left him devoid of all hope and salvation, he could certainly learn how to hate you then.
“I should go.” It was almost a question but one he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Zoro watched as you shuffled further into the covers – protecting yourself. He should be protecting you. He should be holding you in his arms. He should be doing everything and more. But he wasn’t. He was walking out of the door before you could respond. He was failing.
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kjdkive · 10 months
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it's always been you.
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pairing: jungkook x reader (afab)
genre: slowburn, brother’s best friend
warnings: cursing, jungkook being so boyfie
summary: when you get stuck on a date with a total asshole and you need someone to pick you up who else are you gonna call in a new city where you only know your brother and his best friend.
a/n: if you actually like it, tell me if you want a part two cause im honestly thinking about writing one. and if you are gonna read it, you can tell me and i’ll put you in the tag list <3 and also you can always send me an ask if you have any idea for me to write. and also i got this from a “someone write this” tiktok but decided to put more of my stuff in it. if i find the user i’ll let you know
i hate men, i really do. i’ve been single for a while, for the same reason. don't get me wrong, men are really hot and sometimes smart, it's just my bad experiences with men that aren't helping. i moved to a new city for an internship and talking to my friends back home they convinced me to “put myself out there” that maybe “i’d find the one” as if i had time.
now that i think about it, i was so stupid for listening to them because now i’m here, stuck on a date with a total asshole i found on tinder. it was good at first, not gonna lie. i swiped right, we matched, he made sure to compliment me: call me pretty, beautiful, majestic even and we even had actual conversations. so i said “why not? what’s the worst thing that could happen?” 
the date was going well... until it wasn’t. we were talking about what we wanted to do with our futures which is a total important question on a first date. 
“i don’t know, i feel like if i get married i wouldn’t let my wife work, she has to take care of my kids, be grateful that i put food on her table and take care of me.” jisung, my date, said while trying to grab some pasta from his plate. 
i was shocked, i thought he wasn’t gonna be like that. “what do you mean? your wife is not your mother to take care of you and kids are a two-person job.” i told him. 
“oh god, don’t tell me that i just made angry your feminist heart.” he laughed “it’s true, though, what i’m saying. are you finished? let’s go back to my place.” 
“i’m not finished actually, and back to your place?” i asked him. 
“yeah, well, i paid for your food so the least you can do is go back to my place.” 
oh, dear god. what have i gotten myself into? but i really was not in the mood to get in a fight with a man that won't understand why what he's saying is totally wrong.
“uhm, i’d like to ask for dessert.”  i told him. 
 “but you'll have to finish it fast, i wanna go already.” he rolled his eyes. 
i ordered a chocolate cake just to make time while i excused myself to the bathroom and called my brother for help. “why are men always like this?” i ask myself while dialing my brother’s number. it's either they’re mysoginists or they’re cheaters. last time i got a cheater now i got a mysoginist. wow me. 
one ring, two rings, three, four, five… nothing. damn it. i call again, begging the universe for him to pick up the phone and come get me because i was scared to leave alone, i mean i am new in this city, i don't know the bad neighbourhoods and i am not too familiar with the public transportation here. also, this horrible guy was gonna be my ride back home but my brother doesn’t pick up and now i’m doomed.  
“fuck you, taehyung, wherever you are.” 
the only other person i knew in town was my brother’s best friend, who’s probably with him so i should call him because yeah that seems reasonable, right? but what if i bother him? what if he’s not with my brother and i called him for nothing? 
"hello?" i hear a voice from the phone. apparently, i'm so stupid i dialed accidentally.
"hi, jungkook, how are you? it's y/n."
"hey, are you okay? is everything alright?" he asked, sounding more aware, more awake.
"uhm, yeah, just... i went on a date with this guy but he turned out to be an asshole and he was supposed to be my ride back home so i was gonna ask you if taehyung was there with you so he can come pick me up."
"text me the adress and don't move from wherever you are."
"jungkook, don't—" and the sound of him hanging up made me not finish my sentence.
i text him the adress and put my phone back in my purse again, wash my hands and go back to the table where i see jisung on his phone and a piece of chocolate cake in front of him. i sit down and start eating it, really slowly, trying to make time until jungkook come get me.
"can't you be faster? i told you i wanna leave." jisung asked me.
"well, you know already i am a slow eater."
as i am biting the cake i hear a voice behind me.
"let's go now."
i turned around and it's him, jungkook. his outift was not helping, or his voice, or his tattoos, or his piercings, or his hair for how handsome he looked right now. it had been a while since i had seen him, he had less tattoos and longer hair.
"y/n, what the fuck?" jisung asks angrily as we both stand up.
but as i am standing up and getting near jungkook, jisung tried to grab me from the arm. "do not fucking touch her, you hear me?" jungkook told him, while grabbing me from both arms gently and getting me to stand behind him. and jisung sat down, defeated, not giving it enough importance to make this a problem.
jungkook took my hand and also took me out of the place, making us both walk to his bike in the parking lot.
"jungkook, thank you and i'm so sorry for that, i just didn't know who else to call, i know no one here."
"you don't have to apologize and neither thank me, it's alright." he said, giving me a sweet smile as he put a helmet on my head.
"thank you."
"what did i just say?"
i laugh. "you're right. okay but..." i see him already sat on his bike "can you not go so fast, it's my first time getting on one of these and i'm kinda scared, not gonna lie." i ask him while sitting behind him, putting my hands around his waist.
"just enjoy the ride, doll, nothing to worry about."
he doesn't give me time to respond because he's already putting his foot on the gas (if that's what you say about bikes, because i have no clue how these ones work) and i'm already cursing him out.
i feel the air hitting the little part of my face the helmet is not hiding, and i let myself rest on jungkook, hugging him tight, resting my head on his back and feeling safe. well, now this wasn't so bad. we stopped at a red light and i felt his hands caressing my legs. it felt good, really good. i couldn't lie how much i was enjoying this, how much i didn't want this moment to be over.
"would it be so crazy if i ask you to go faster?" i ask him.
the light turns green and i feel the speed already. i let out a squeal as i hug jungkook even tighter. i felt so alive.
and then it was over.
he parked and we both got off the bike.
i try to take off my helmet and as soon as i do i feel a pair of hands over mine "you don't take it off like that, silly." jungkook giggles.
"my hair must be a mess." i said, as i try combing it with my hands.
"you're more than alright, y/n, don't worry." he tells me, while he also runs his hand through my hair giving me butterflies.
butterflies... what?
"well, thank you."
"you're more than welcome. but this is where i go back."
"don't you wanna come upstairs? have a drink or something with me. i haven't seen you in a year." that came out faster than expected and i don't know from where this courage is coming from. i'm not usally like this with jungkook, at the end he's not really my friend, he's my brother's.
he looks at his bike and then at me "uh, yeah, i'd love to."
"you got yourself a sweet appartment." jungkook tells me as soon as he enters and starts taking off his shoes.
"thanks, i got really lucky. you want some wine?"
"ew? you don't have beer?"
i grab him one and pour myself a glass of wine.
"god, i don't know why i went out with that guy, actually he seemed fine at first, you know?"
"and i could see from miles away that he was a dick, his posture, his vibe. i don't know how you didn't notice."
"well, i'm sorry, mr. vibes." i rolled my eyes, playing with him.
we get to talking, an actual really enjoyable conversation of what we were both doing here, how i was doing with my intership and him with his promotion on his corporate job at a really young age. we were both doing amazing, and we were having a really good time. and there was this feeling again, of not wanting it to be over. not once in our lives have we been alone, my brother was always there or just someone. we never got to do something alone even when we were younger and jungkook went to my house for dinner and my mom asked us to set the table so this was a new one. he also looked so handsome tonight, making those weird butterflies worse.
"i'm sorry, that was a really long story. but i've been wanting to thank you again for picking me up and saving me from that prick. i really needed that." i tell him while i get myself more comfortable on the couch. "i hope you weren't doing anything important and i interrupted you with my annoying problems."
"i was hanging out with some friends back at my place, actually." he says, while putting his head back on the couch, letting me see his neck and that little tattoo behind his ear.
"what? jungkook, oh my god, i'm so sorry i wouldn't have called you if i—"
jungkook laughs, standing up from the couch.
"are you going back to your place? god, i'm so sorry." i stand up with him.
"shut up." he laughs again.
"what? no, i mean it."
"shut up, y/n."
"what? why?"
"i did have some friends hanging out back at my place and yeah, i was busy." he starts, while walking slowly towards me "but that didn't matter as soon as you called me and told me you needed me. because whatever you need i'll run through heaven and hell to give it to you, walk the whole planet barefoot if you needed me to."
our faces are just milimiters apart from crashing into each other's.
"it's just because i'm your best friend's little sister." i tell him, almost whispering.
"no, it's you over your brother anytime." he grabs my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. "it's you, y/n, it has always been you."
i prepare myself for the kiss, a kiss that's going to change whatever dynamic we had for years. but there's no kiss, just a soft touch of his upper lip against mine.
"but we'll talk about it later, when you haven't come from a shit date."
he grabs his jacket and lets himself out of my appartment.
i want to say something back, tell him that leaving me like this it's unfair, but nothing comes out of my mouth, just my hand moving to my mouth trying to remember the lingering touch of him against me.
i was left there speechless.
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funnylittlelad · 1 year
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Trailer Park Blues - Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader
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Thank you for 100 followers! :)
Read on AO3
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summary: You don't think much when you start letting Hellfire use your trailer for their meetings. Dustin asked and you caved, as per usual. What you weren't expecting was the rollercoaster ride that becomes your relationship with your little brother's best friend, Eddie Munson.
wordcount: 15.8k
tags/notes: SMUT (MDNI), gn!reader (nonbinary coded if you squint), reader is Dustin's older sibling, name-calling, degradation, hate fucking i'm ngl it's hate fucking, unprotected sex, power play, mentions of bad past relationships, queer eddie munson, talks about dead parents being dead
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You might kill Dustin. The windows of your trailer are illuminated. He told you they’d all be gone by the time you got home from work. As you get closer to the door and hear the excited shouts you know that they’re all still here. You’re tired, you smell, and the last thing you want to do is look at a bunch of high schoolers playing some table top bullshit. 
“Dustin,” you shout as you swing the front door open.
 Everyone at the dining table jumps and snaps to look at you. When you enter your trailer you’re immediately met with a view of the living room to your right and the small kitchen to your left. Your table is in the middle, creating a makeshift dining area turned D&D area. 
The normal crew is there, Mike, Lucas, and Will. There are some new, and semi-new faces. The semi-new face is one you’ve seen, but never spoken to. Eddie Munson, four trailers down, and originally part of your graduating class. 
“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of us!” Dustin exclaims, holding his heaving chest.
“You’re not supposed to be here for me to scare the shit out of,” you remind him, the annoyance evident. 
“I know, I’m sorry. We’re almost done, I promise. Can we please just finish?” he pleads with big eyes and a quivering lip. 
This fucking kid knows he has everyone in his life around his damn finger. You’d like to smack him.
“Fine, but you’re explaining to mom why you're not home yet,” you point at him as you speak. 
His face breaks into a smile. 
“You’re the best!”
“Call, now,” you order.
 When Dustin goes to the phone on the wall next to your fridge, you exit to the short hall. The company isn't going to stop you from showering. Eddie is frozen. His eyes follow you as you leave the room, mouth parted slightly. You barged in a little angry and it knocked him through a loop. His poor little bisexual heart felt ready to explode. You must get more shit than he does looking like that. Doesn't matter that you’re stunning, being the picture of androgyny in Hawkins can't be easy. He wants so badly to examine that picture up close and in detail. Dustin was right about one thing. Jesus Christ.
When the kid told Eddie they could use his sibling’s trailer Eddie was surprised to find he lived so close to a Henderson without realizing. Now, he really can't believe it. 
“Okay, let’s finish before I get my ass kicked,” Dustin says as he comes back to the table. 
Eddie snaps out of the trance he fell into.
“Uh-we can call it here,” Eddie says, sounding far away.
 The rest of the table balks at him.
“You’re calling the campaign early?” Dustin questions.
“When I asked if we could cut last week's campaign short you said you would strangle me with your bare hands,” Mike adds in disbelief. 
“We’re in the middle of a fight,” Will protests. 
The rest of the table starts voicing their own arguments creating a cacophony of disgruntled nerds. 
“Okay, okay,” Eddie gets loud to quiet down the table, “Dustin’s next in initiative.” 
The boys cheer triumphantly causing Eddie to smile. If his eyes keep darting to where you disappeared down the hall… Well, that’s his business. Your trailer is close to his in layout, but it’s much more well-kempt and put together. Makes sense since you live here alone and two grown men live in Eddie’s. 
When you reappear, toweling off your hair, they’re wrapping up. Your sweatpants that sit just below your belly button and short cropped shirt don't go unnoticed by Eddie. His eyes glide over your midriff and the soft dark hair that it's home to. It seems no matter what you’re in you remain more androgynous than Boy George.
 A trait that absolutely entices the queer disaster that is Eddie Munson. Dustin only ever uses sibling to talk about you. He doesn't use any language that would give any more away than your appearance does. It doesn't matter anyways, Eddie is infatuated regardless. Maybe even partially because of. 
The boys all throw you a goodbye as they exit until only Dustin and Eddie are left. Dustin is cleaning up any dishes or garbage left behind while Eddie packs up all the D&D materials. You didn't realize how much goes into this table top bullshit. Eddie has books, binders, and notebooks worth of information and ideas. There's stats and prices of various items on the screen he puts up so no one can peek at his notes. Then there's the velvet drawstring bag of different shaped dice. Shapes you’ve never even seen dice come in before. 
“How long were you guys playing for?” you ask the two of them from where you lean against the counter. 
You don't know what time they got started, just that they were supposed to be gone when you got home.
“Six hours,” Dustin says sheepishly.
“Six hours?” 
“It took longer than expected,” he shrugs with an apologetic smile.
You chuckle and shake your head. Your eyes flicker over to Eddie, catching him staring at you with wide dark eyes. Once your gaze meets his he looks down and hurries to finish packing up. You choose to disregard it. Eddie Munson can eat dirt if he thinks he's in any position to judge you. If only you knew he wasn't judging you, he was admiring you.
“It’s getting late. Do you want to just spend the night? I don't like the idea of you biking home when it's this dark out,” you say to Dustin softly. 
You don't have a car of your own to drive him. Since everything that happened with Will… Yeah, he’s definitely not biking home alone at night. 
“I can bring him,” Eddie offers as he zips up his bag.
“You can bring him?” You question thinking about the death trap of a van you’ve seen him drive. 
Somehow, that feels even worse. 
“Yeah, I can bring him,” he repeats and finally meets your eyes again.
 He sees the distrust, the anxiety. It hits him in the gut. 
“That’s okay, he can just spend the night,” you refuse him politely. 
“How d’you think he got here in the first place?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.
 Your nostrils flare a little at the smugness.
“Then I should consider myself lucky he’s still in one piece,” you shoot back. 
Eddie dramatically grabs his stomach and doubles over with a grunt as if he has just been punched.
“You hurt me, Henderson,” he huffs as he looks up at you from his bent state. 
A smile grows on his face when he sees you fighting off your own. 
“Hello, I’m right here, y’know,” Dustin looks between the two of you exasperatedly, “I can go with Eddie.”
“Dust-”
“I can go with Eddie,” he cuts you off to repeat himself. 
You exhale sharply through your nose. The two of you glare at each other for a moment. You still lean against the counter while Dustin stands beside the table. Eddie watches from where he stands on the opposite side of the table. Then your smoldering gaze turns to Eddie, stopping his breathing.
“Do the speed limit,” your voice is even, but so stern that all Eddie can do is nod. 
He swallows the lump that forms in his throat as a result.
“Cross my heart,” he uses his pointer finger to draw an X over his heart. 
Dustin hugs you goodbye. You make him promise to call tomorrow. Eddie gives you one last wide eyed look, a small smile plays on his lips. Then you’re finally alone. You love having Dustin over, but you’re also glad to have peace and quiet. 
You moved out a few short months after graduation. Your overbearing mother proved too much to continue living with. Dustin was pissed at first. He came around when he realized it meant having a space to escape to and be himself. Something you're more than happy to provide for him. 
He was thrilled to learn that Eddie lives only four trailers away from you. When Dustin asked if Hellfire could meet at your place to continue a campaign they had started you agreed for this one time. Even when you said it, you had a feeling Dustin will end up begging for 
more and you’ll end up caving. The kid really does have everyone wrapped around his finger. Eddie included it seems.
“So, are they always so…,” Eddie struggles to finish his question as he drives through Hawkins. 
Hot, breathtaking, pulse pounding, awestriking. He can't really say any of that to Dustin. 
“Protective?” Dustin offers.
“Protective works,” Eddie nods. 
Not exactly what he was thinking, but that applies too.
“Pretty much.” 
“How long have they lived in Forest Hills?” He tries to keep his tone casual, but ends up sounding just a little too interested. 
He can feel Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of his head. 
“Year and a half,” Dustin answers.
“So they're… nineteen?”
“Twenty.” 
Eddie glances over at Dustin. He looks one part irritated and two parts suspicious. Eddie adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. 
“Wait, we were in the same grade?” Eddie asks, surprised.
“You were supposed to be,” Dustin ribs. 
“You wanna walk from here, Henderson?”
“You wanna get murdered?” 
Eddie shoots him a glare knowing he’s right. His threat is hollow with you around. If you found out he let Dustin walk halfway home he’s sure he wouldn't see morning. 
“Why are you asking?” Dustin inquired after a moment of silence. Eddie shrugs.
“Just curious.”
“Uh-huh,” Dustin sounds entirely unconvinced.
“Whatever,” Eddie mutters to himself. He pushes you out of his mind and focuses on driving. 
He can feel Dustin’s occasional glances. The younger Henderson has clocked his strange demeanor, he knows it. It’s not hard. He isn't as goofy or teasing. He’s more lost in thought than he'd like. He just doesn't know how he's never noticed you before. How has he never noticed the one person in Hawkins that seems to tick every single fucking box he could possibly have? 
***
The next time Eddie sees you it’s raining. The weather is only noteable because he sees you walking home with no umbrella. He catches you as you make it under the awning of the movie theater. It gives you temporary shelter from the pounding of the rain. Eddie pulls over to the curb in front of you. He had been going to the store to grab some munchies, but that’s something he can do later. 
You eye his van curiously. He doesn’t bother with his hazards. Cars go around him without issue. He leans over and cranks the window down.
“You need a ride?” he calls out.
“I’m good, thanks,” you call back.
“Seriously? You’ll catch your death walking all the way to Forest Hills in this. Just get in.”
You sigh, but do as he says. It's not like you want to walk in the rain. Keeping a distance from Eddie just felt like the right thing to do. He gives you a feeling in your gut you can't quite place. He always has. Is it possible to admire someone and not like them?
“Thanks,” you say as you close the door. 
You’re shivering as you drip on his seat.
“Yeah, no problem,” Eddie says as he blasts the heat. 
His typically loud music is soft as he drives. Something you appreciate. Work was a headache. Having to walk home in the rain was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass Eddie has luckily saved you from.
“Where d’you work, anyways?” he asks after a few minutes.
“I’m a manager over at the general store.”
“Shit, really? I steal-I mean I-uh go there all the time,” Eddie doesn’t course correct quite fast enough. 
To his surprise, you laugh. It’s a nice sound. Calming like the rain is when you aren't stranded in it.
“I’ll remember that next time I see you in there.”
There’s a comfortable silence after that. Eddie is actually a better driver than you assumed. It makes you feel a little better about Dustin driving around with him. You don't even notice you've stopped shivering. The van is warming you up, but you’re still soaked. 
“Sorry about your seats, by the way,” you say.
“Eh, it’s just some water. These seats have seen worse,” he shrugs.
You grimace in disgust.
“Like what?” 
Eddie lets out a hearty laugh.
“Probably better you don’t know.”
“Jesus, you’re nasty, Munson,” your laughter betrays you. 
“Oh, you have no idea, Henderson.”
Another round of comfortable silence as Forest Hills comes into view. You expect Eddie to park at his trailer. You don't mind walking the short distance to your own. Instead he pulls right up to your door. 
“Seriously thank you, Eddie,” you give him a smile.
“Don’t worry about it. If- y'know, if you need a ride again you can give me a call.”
“Sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to give me your phone number,” you tease.
Eddie chuckles.
“Two birds, one stone,” he smiles.
“You’ll need to try harder than that, Munson. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” You flash him a smile and then you’re gone.
Only the wet imprint of your ass lets him know you were ever really there in the first place.
***
“Please,” Dustin pleads over the phone. You sigh.
“Dustin, it’s my day off. I don't want to sit here and listen to you guys for six hours,” you tell him.
“We’ll only be an hour, two tops.”
“Dustin-”
“I can stay over after and we can hang out. We’ll watch E.T.,” he sweetens the pot. 
He knows that's your favorite movie and he knows you’re a sucker for quality time with him. Little asshole.
“Fine, but you only get two hours before I kick everyone out.”
“Three?”
“Two and a half.”
“Thank you, you're the best, bye!” he hangs up before you have a chance to change your mind. You chuckle and shake your head.
Two and a half hours stuck in your room isn't too bad. Besides, you’re not really stuck. You just don't want to get in the way, or listen on in utter confusion. You know a little about D&D from Dustin talking about it, but not enough to follow. Sure you’ll pop out to grab a drink, maybe something to eat, but overall you intend to stay removed. 
Part of you wants to stay away from Eddie. You know he’ll just start flirting and you'll be too weak to stop it. Too weak to resist giving it right back to him. It shouldn't surprise you when Eddie is the first to show an hour later, but it does. He gives a quick rhythmic knock on your door. 
“I'm surprised you made it so early. I know the commute is killer,” you quip when you see him standing outside the screen door. 
With a grin, Eddie braces his lower back beneath his old bookbag and leans into his hands a bit to dramatize discomfort.
“Yeah, my back is killing me from the long drive over,” he makes a face as he jokes to drive it home. 
You chuckle and push the screen door open to let him in.
“Dustin isn't here yet,” you tell him as he enters.
 He pauses just inside the doorway leaving him so close to you his body heat reaches the skin of your arms.
“I can come back,” he says and begins to turn.
“No, it's alright. He should be here soon. I’m assuming you need to get set up or something?” you tilt your head toward the cleared off dining table. He nods and you hold your arm out to tell him he’s welcome to continue inside. 
You watch him make his way to the table. Something about the way he’s joking back with you makes you wonder if you had things wrong. Maybe he wasn't flirting in the van the other day. Maybe it was just friendly banter. 
“Thanks for letting us play here. We usually use the drama room, but they’ve needed it more with that stupid musical coming up,” Eddie says as he opens his bag and begins to pull things out.
“Let me guess, Grease?” you shut the door and find your place on the couch.
 Eddie glances at you with an amused smirk.
“Sure is.”
“Figures. Thank God Dustin isn't a theater kid. I don't think I could sit through that every year,” you chuckle.
 Eddie’s smile is curious, maybe even a bit nervous. You're watching him and it makes his movements just a little less sure. 
“Instead you get a bunch'a freaks playing D&D at your table.”
“You calling my brother a freak, Munson?” There’s an edge to your words. 
Eddie’s eyes get wide.
“Uh- no, I-”
“I’m just kidding, calm down,” you laugh, “it’s okay, he is a freak. Besides, I don't think you’d ever be mean to Dustin.”
“Why’s that?”
“He worships the ground you walk on. If you were ever mean to him your uncle would need to pull dental records to identify you,” you say it light heartedly with a smile.
 Your voice and expression don't match the vicious threat. Eddie’s heart thumps hard as he spreads out the battle map.
“You’re a little scary, y’know that?”
“How else am I supposed to keep you in line?” 
Heat crawls up Eddie’s neck. His throat dries and he clumsily knocks into his DM screen. It clatters flat onto the table. You watch on in amusement as he fumbles with it. He’s flustered. A fact that goes straight to your ego. Eddie is Dustin’s friend so you had no plans to actually be mean or rude to him. Admittedly, your brother is pretty good at picking people. Even if others don't see what he does in those people. 
Is flustering Eddie by accident mean or rude? Is continuing to do it because you like that you can? 
“How is it I’ve never seen you around before?” Eddie asks once the DM screen is back up the way he wants it. 
“You have, you just never noticed,” you shrug.
“Trust me, I would have noticed you,” he glances at you as he says it. 
When he sees your attention is already on him, he quickly moves on to digging out the miniatures he brought. 
“Trust me, you wouldn't have. I haven't always been this comfortable dressing and existing how I want. Not everyone can be Eddie Munson,” you give him a small smile.
“What's that supposed to mean?” he pauses setting up to look at you. 
He half expects insults to start being hurled at him.
“You’ve always been yourself. Even when it would be easier to be someone else. I’ve always admired that about you. It took me a long time to be that brave,” you answer genuinely. 
His face reddens and his eyes nearly strike you down where you sit. They’re big, as always, and the distinct brown of them swims in an emotion you can't place. Eddie’s heart is in his throat. He knows he’s attracted to you physically, but you might have just sunk a hook in him emotionally. Whether you meant to or not, you nearly destroyed him with your words. He can't remember the last time someone has said such nice things to his face. 
“Always, huh? You been watching me, Henderson?” he bounces back, diffusing his own feelings with the joke. 
You shrug with an innocent smile.
“You make it hard not to.”
Eddie’s face somehow gets even hotter. He might need to peel off his jacket if this keeps up. As he struggles to come up with a response to that, Dustin bursts in. The large smile on his face drops when he sees the flustered state of Eddie. His eyes travel back and forth between the two of you.
“What’s happening?” he asks
“Just getting to know your friend,” you shrug casually. 
Traces of that smile can still be found on your face. That's when Eddie knows you’re doing it on purpose. You saw how flustered you made him and decided to keep going. He’s not sure if he hates you or just fell in love with you. 
“Right,” Dustin says, completely unconvinced. 
“Okay, well, I’ll make myself scarce before the rest of the nerds get here. Remember, two and a half hours, Dustin,” you point at him as you rise from the couch. 
“I know, I know.”
Eddie watches you disappear down the hall. His eyes stay on the beginning of the hallway until he hears your bedroom door click shut. Then he finally looks at the boy in front of him. Dustin has narrowed eyes on Eddie.
“What?” Eddie asks defensively and continues emptying his bag. 
“You tell me,” Dustin crosses his arms.
“I don't know what you mean,” Eddie lies as he spreads out his reference materials and notes behind the screen.
“Bullshit.”
“We were just talking.”
Before Dustin can pry further the rest of the boys start piling in. Mike, Lucas, and Will are confident just walking in like they live there. Jeff and Gareth follow with more hesitation. Eddie happily dives in once everyone is settled at the table. Happy to continue the campaign and happy to avoid talking about you further with Dustin. He’s not sure how the younger Henderson will take his burgeoning crush. 
Around thirty minutes into their gameplay you appear for a drink. You notice immediately that Eddie becomes distracted when you pop into the kitchen. Eddie’s eyes track you the entire way as the others discuss their next move. You catch his gaze when you turn around from the fridge. Before he can try to act like he wasn't staring, you smirk. Then you’re taking a nice long drink from your can of coke. Eddie swallows, watching you, Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to regain the ability to speak. 
“Eddie,” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s eyes.
 Eddie blinks back into the game, feeling like he traveled a million light years and back. Dustin glances over his shoulder to where Eddie had been zoned off staring. You give your brother a small wave when he sees you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looks back to Eddie who is trying desperately to get back on track. Eddie hazards one more quick look at you. You throw him a wink as you make your exit. On their way back to the table in front of him, his eyes meet Dustin’s.
“What the hell was that?” Dustin questions.
“That was Mike getting knocked prone,” Eddie answers and reaches over his screen to knock Mike’s miniature on its side. 
“You’re deflecting,” Mike says smugly, happy to have some retribution for the hit Eddie’s NPC made on his character. 
“Uh, no, I’m DM-ing,” he makes a sweeping gesture to the layout in front of him.
“Holy shit, Eddie has a crush,” Lucas realizes out loud. 
Dustin groans.
“Are we gonna have to stop playing here?” Will asks genuinely.
 Will is the only one Eddie can consider innocent here. The rest of them earn a glare. 
“I don't know, Eddie, will we?” Dustin sasses with a pointed look at Eddie.
“No, we won't. We only have a couple hours here, can we get back to the fucking game?” Eddie snaps them back into focus. 
An hour goes by and you’re back. This time Eddie is able to drag his gaze away from where you’re digging around in a cabinet. You have to reach up in a way that exposes the skin of your stomach. A silky stripe of skin and some tufts of dark hair between your too small shirt and sweatpants. 
Instead of allowing himself to get distracted by you again, he starts putting on more of a show. His movements become more dramatic, he throws himself more fully into the voices he’s doing, and overall amping up the theatrics. He figures if you admire him always being himself, he'll dial himself up to ten. 
You find yourself leaning against the counter with a bag of chips in your hand watching. No one else seems to have noticed your arrival. They’re too taken in by the narrative Eddie is weaving. You can't blame them. Eddie puts his full body into it. After a couple minutes he lets the group deliberate their next move. His eyes flicker over to you again, a smirk on his face. The eye contact jolts you from whatever weird fog you’d fallen into watching him. As you make your leave you see the quick wink Eddie tosses your way. 
Your heart is loud in your ears when you shut your door. Oh, it’s on, Munson, you think to yourself. If there's one thing you are, it's competitive. It’s clear you fluster Eddie, which means there’s some type of attraction there. Truthfully, you’re attracted to him too. You always have been. His authenticity and ability to stay true to himself have always drawn you in. Now that you can tell he’s into this too, you’re ready to have fun with it. The two of you have officially entered a little game and you refuse to lose.
 An old pair of shorts is your next move. They’re Hawkins High green with white trim and stripes up the side of each leg. They’re long enough to cover everything, but short enough to draw attention. You give it another fifteen minutes before re-emerging. When you do so you fan yourself with your hand to pretend your room is hot. Without looking to see if Eddie has noticed you bend at the hips to start peering in the fridge. You look innocuous enough searching for a water bottle to cool down. Then you hear a clattering, a few shouts, and fumbling.
“Shit,” Eddie hisses. 
You turn around with a water bottle pressed to your forehead. Everyone, but Eddie, is frantically looking for something on the floor. A small red pointy looking die sits in front of you on the linoleum, a black number twenty facing up. You pluck it off the floor and hold it up lazily. 
“You guys looking for this?” you ask. A couple of them hit their heads on the table on their way up. 
When they see the D20 between your fingers they swarm you. Suddenly you’re trapped against the fridge by several manic nerds. Dustin grabs the sides of your upper arms. 
“Did you see what it landed on?” He all but demands. 
You shove him off and push through them. Eddie remains seated at the table watching with huge eyes. 
“First off, whose is it?” you ask.
“Mine,” Eddie’s voice wavers just a bit on the single syllable. 
With a bright smile you walk it over to him. He looks up at you when you’re next to the table, face getting more and more red. You place the D20 down in front of him, black twenty still up. His mouth parts slightly as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You have him all lined up where you want him. Now, you just have to make the goal by brandishing some of the only D&D knowledge Dustin has imparted on you.
“Natural twenty,” you say, your smile curling into something more mischievous, “Congrats on the crit.”
Eddie continues blinking his wide dark eyes at you. The rest of the boys groan behind you. Whatever Eddie just rolled for clearly isn't good for them. They all take their seats again. 
“You couldn't have lied?” Dustin huffs comically.
“And rob your DM of his roll? Never,” you chuckle. 
You lift his hat, ruffle his hair, and walk off. Eddie gapes after you, heart absolutely pounding. He won't be able to stand the rest of the game. His jeans got a little tighter when he saw you bent over in those fucking shorts, distracting him mid roll. It only got worse when you walked over his D20, looked down at him like you know the hold you have, and congratulated him on his nat twenty.  
“I think he’s drooling,” Mike’s voice pulls Eddie back to the table.
“He’s speechless,” Gareth adds.
“I’m not speechless. I'm contemplating.”
“Contemplating what?” Lucas questions unconvinced.
“How exactly I want this nat twenty to fuck up your day.”
You don't make another appearance until their time is up. By the time you make it out there it's just Dustin and Eddie. Dustin is on his knees in the living room looking through the different VHS tapes you have in a milk crate. Eddie is packing away all his stuff neatly. 
“How’d it go?” you ask them as you plop down onto your couch. 
Dustin launches into an excited and detailed account of the game. Eddie expects you to tell him to calm down, that you don't need a play by play of every second. You don't. Instead you listen encouragingly, ask questions for clarification, and let Dustin rattle on. 
“Sounds like you did a good job with this one, Dungeon Master,” you say to Eddie with a smile. 
His heart skips. 
“Even I have my days,” he shoots you a smile in return as he zips up his bag. 
“Yeah? Maybe one of these days you’ll be able to keep your dice on the table,” you tease. 
Dustin watches the two of you and it clicks. At first he thought Eddie was just taking a morbid interest. You’ve had plenty of that. Guys in Hawkins like experimenting, toeing the line you ride between genders, and then denying anything ever happened when they come to their senses. He didn't want to think Eddie would be like that, but as protective as you are of Dustin he is of you. The way you prop your chin on your hand and lean on the arm of the couch toward Eddie finally clues Dustin in. You're into Eddie too. 
“Eddie, you should stay and watch E.T. with us,” Dustin interjects. 
Your eyes dart to him curiously. 
“I promised Wayne I'd be home by eight. Next time, alright?” Eddie swings his bag over his shoulder. 
Dustin is disappointed, but doesn't put up a fight. Eddie knew he wouldn't last through a movie with you. Not if earlier was any indication of what you’re capable of doing to him. Not with Dustin around. As disappointed as you might be, you’re also relieved. If Eddie sat next to you the movie would have been forgotten immediately. You and Dustin bid Eddie farewell and start the movie.
Dustin is knocked out on the couch by the end of it. You throw the soft blanket you keep in the living room over him. It’s too early for you to be tired. You take to cleaning up a little, grabbing what Dustin missed when cleaning up after the campaign. When you go to toss the little bits of trash in the garbage can you find it full. You roll your eyes knowing full well Dustin left it like this for you when he could have taken it out. 
The outside air nips at your exposed legs. It’s a short walk to the dumpster, but in the dark it can be creepy. Forest Hills isn't the most lit up place at night. You hurry to toss the bag into the dumpster.
“Come here often?”
The voice startles you. You whip around with a small yelp. Eddie stands before you with a garbage bag in his hand and a teasing smirk on his face. When you realize it's him you recover quickly.
“Only when I’m hoping to see you,” you tease as you step out of his way. He tosses his own bag in the dumpster and turns to face you.
“You callin’ me trash, Henderson?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I didn't say that, but if that's what you took from it…” you smile playfully. 
He shakes his head chuckling.
“You're kinda mean,” Eddie points at you as he says it. 
“Am I?” You ask, taking a step forward. 
There's a foot of space between you and Eddie. You can see his breathing stutter in his chest. 
“Yeah, but I like it,” he admits quietly, heart pounding. 
You smile and take another step forward. You’re fully in Eddie’s space now. He can't even tell if he’s still breathing. You’re still in those fucking shorts, you're openly flirting with him, and you’re so god damn close. He might just die on the spot.
“Do you?” You're torturing him now.
 He knows it. You know it.
“Now you’re just tryna get me to say nice things about you,” he teases with a smirk. 
How he’s maintaining any amount of composure is beyond him. Maybe God is real and right now Eddie is His favorite little soldier.
“Is that so hard?”
“No, not when you're wearing those.”
He nods down to your shorts. You laugh, placing a hand on the breast of his jean vest over his leather jacket. 
“I thought you’d like’em.”
“You were right.”
“I’m glad I dug them out for you then,” you smirk, toying with one of the many pins on his vest. 
“You- for me?” Eddie sputters not expecting the bold statement.
 Light teasing and flirting, sure, but not that.
“You’re really surprised?” you chuckle.
“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs lamely. His composure is quickly slipping.
“Then you haven't been paying attention very well,” you chide playfully. 
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes. 
Before you can say another word, Eddie breaks. He grabs the sides of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You grasp onto the denim of his vest as you melt into it. His lips are warm, urgent, and a little sloppy with desperation. The kiss sends a thrill through your entire body. It’s only when he pulls away that you remember where you are. Outside at night kissing Eddie Munson next to the fucking dumpster. Are you sixteen again? 
You just look into each other's eyes for a second. Eddie’s face is still just inches away from yours. His pupils are blown to shit and you're sure yours are too. You drag him forward again by the grip on his vest. This time your other hand finds a home in his coarse wavy to curly hair. He moans into your mouth as your hold on his hair tightens. You give a surprised groan when his hand grabs your ass. He rides the shorts up just enough for him to brush against the skin they once covered. 
It takes an extreme amount of effort to pull away. Somehow, you manage. Both of you are breathing heavily. After a second of just studying each other's face, you shake your head with a smile.
“I better get going before I try to jump your bones in the dumpster,” you say, but don't move. 
“Maybe you can jump my bones another time,” Eddie suggests with a smile. 
You chuckle.
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Aren't you eager,” you tease.
“Can you blame me?”
“No, I guess not.”
He gives you an expectant stare. You pretend to think his offer over. 
“Okay, tomorrow. Dustin should be gone by one,” you nod. 
Eddie fights off a groan. He forgot about the Dustin of it all. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe he should call the whole thing off. 
“See you tomorrow,” he says instead. 
“I look forward to it,” you smile and leave him.
 He watches you walk back to your trailer. Without you pressed against him, he’s suddenly cold. He jogs back to his own trailer still in disbelief. His thoughts are spinning. One thing is for sure, his dreams are going to be full of you tonight.
***
Eddie’s fist hovers by the door for a second. This is his last chance to back out. It’s his last chance to turn around and avoid any awkward confrontation with Dustin later. Eddie cares about that kid’s opinion of him far too much. Once he has the thought to leave, he gives a quick rhythmic knock. 
“Eddie?” Dustin questions when he opens the door, “What are you doing here?” 
Eddie struggles for something to say. Dustin is supposed to be gone. 
“Oh, Eddie left his dice. I gave him a call last night,” your voice calls from deeper in the trailer. 
The lie is easy and smooth.
“So, you gonna let me in or what?” Eddie jerks his chin up at Dustin. 
His hands are shoved into the pockets of his vest. The left one is wrapped around the condom he brought just in case you didn't have any. He’s almost afraid if he lets go it’ll fall out and Dustin will have more questions. 
Dustin pushes the screen door open to let Eddie in. When he enters he sees you standing over the kitchen sink. You shoot him an apologetic look over your shoulder. He returns it with a small understanding smile. Clearly, you hadn't planned on Dustin still being here either. You turn off the water, dry your hands on a nearby towel, and face him from the kitchen.
“I have the dice in my room,” you tilt your head toward the hallway. 
You lead Eddie to your bedroom. It’s at the end of the short hall, similar to his own. An unmade full bed is pushed into the far corner under the singular window. A dresser sits in the opposite corner with a couple framed pictures on top and what looks like a small silver urn. The wall behind your bed is adorned with an intricate forest green tapestry with the tree of life on it. 
“I’m so sorry,” you begin in a hushed voice.
“S’alright,” Eddie assures you.
“He decided to stay and I couldn't exactly tell him no,” you explain anxiously.
“It’s really alright, Henderson,” he gives you a reassuring smile. 
Your heart skips a beat. Part of you feared he’d be pissed. There have been plenty of guys in the past whose tempers were as short as their sexuality was confusing. Eddie notices the way you relax when you accept his words.
“Well, you’re welcome to hang out as long as you’d like,” you tell him.
“Maybe I should go. This probably wasn't a good idea anyway,” he says with a quick look over his shoulder. 
Dustin is still in the living room, Eddie can hear the tv. When his eyes turn back to you, your whole demeanor has changed. Your face is suddenly unreadable. Your stance is closed off. 
“Yeah, maybe you're right,” your voice is cold.
 Eddie starts internally panicking. Clearly he said the wrong thing, but he doesn't know what. 
“It’s not you,” he rushes to explain, “it’s Dustin.”
You roll your eyes.
“Don't use my brother as an excuse for whatever sexuality struggle you're having,” you whisper harshly.
Eddie’s hands find either side of his head. His fingers sink into his hair as he tries to understand how this situation turned on him. 
“I’m not having a sexuality struggle,” he argues, frustration beginning to bubble up.
“Whatever, Eddie. I’ve been through this too many times.”
“Through what? You're not actually fucking talking to me. Just talk to me,” he gestured wildly in the air, shaking his hands in a pleading motion. 
“Through assholes chatting me up, making me feel special, like maybe someone actually fucking likes me. Only to find out I was nothing but a novelty. I don't know why I thought you could be any different,” you explain bitterly with a shake of your head.
Eddie runs a hand over his face as he processes. Your words sting. They burn tiny lacerations into his skin. I don't know why I thought you could be any different. He never thought he'd be compared to the rest of Hawkins, always an outlier. You’re grouping him in with probably the worst Hawkins has to offer. Now that really fucking hurts.
“I do actually fucking like you. Why can't you get it's more complicated than that?” 
“Oh, I get it. You can't figure out what you’re feeling and you’re afraid it’ll make you gay. So, test it out with me and then move the fuck on like nothing ever happened,” you say while crossing your arms. You fold in on yourself, becoming smaller and smaller before Eddie’s eyes.
“I am gay-I mean not gay gay but-fuck,” Eddie struggles. 
The heels of his hands dig into his eyes as he tries to collect his racing thoughts.
“Just go, Eddie. We can pretend this never happened,” your voice is low, almost a rumble. 
“Will you just listen to me?” he demands frustratedly, voice raised. 
“Is everything alright?” Dustin appears in the open doorway. 
His face is full of concern and confusion. 
“Yeah, everything’s fine, Dust. Eddie was just leaving.”
Eddie gives you a desperate look. He pleads with those big brown eyes. When it's clear you’re done and this conversation isn't going any further he sighs.
“See you later, Henderson,” he mumbles as he pushes past Dustin. 
You’re not really sure which one of you it's directed at. Eddie isn't either.
***
You actively avoid Eddie the following week. It’s painfully obvious. He wants a chance to grab you. To talk to you and explain the misunderstanding. He's beginning to think you can sense that and that's why you’ve been so slippery as of late. The only time he really could is when you’re on your way to work, but he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to make you late or upset you before a shift. 
Dustin opens the door the next time Eddie knocks. You’re still letting them play in your trailer, but you haven't been home the last couple sessions. He does his best not to let it bother him. It's fucking hard when Dustin keeps giving him these watchful, curious looks. Almost like he’s trying to decipher what happened just by studying Eddie’s face. These looks are peppered throughout the entire campaign, exhausting Eddie.
It feels like fate when you come home as he’s packing up. He gives you an unsure smile. You return it and go into your room. That’s something. That’s progress. At the end of the day, Eddie doesn't want you thinking so low of him. He hates knowing you think he'd use you as an experiment. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a piece of shit. 
“Dustin, if you need a ride home Steve is stopping by in a few minutes,” you call out from your bedroom.
When you walk back out you’re in a pair of dark blue shorts that fall to your mid-thigh, and a baggy white muscle shirt. You catch the expression Eddie was making before he managed to wipe it off his face. You pause between the kitchen and the front door. 
“What?” you question a little aggressively.
Eddie holds his hands up to his chest in surrender. The unwarranted attitude automatically sets him off.
“Put the gun away, jeez. I didn't know you’re friends with Harrington is all,” Eddie snaps back defensively. 
“Okay, what the fuck is going on between you guys? I thought you liked each other,  but now you’re acting like you hate each other,” Dustin interrupts exasperated. 
“Shut up,” the two of you say in unison.
Your head snaps to Eddie.
“Did you just tell my brother to shut up, Munson?” you demand. 
“You did too!”
“Because he’s my brother. Who the fuck are you to talk to him that way?” 
“Will you calm down?” Dustin demands.
“Dust-”
“No, this is so stupid. What happened?”
You grit your teeth. A sharp exhale exits your flared nostrils. Your eyes flicker to Eddie for a second. His face is red with frustration, his eyebrows are set, and his mouth is a thin line. You look back to Dustin's confused face.
“Jason,” you state flatly.
“Jason?” Eddie questions, absolutely bewildered.
Dustin’s face drops. His eyes squeeze shut as he sighs. You watch him slowly turn to look at Eddie. Eddie’s stomach sinks when he sees Dustin’s broken expression.
“Eddie, you didn't,” he pleads softly. 
Eddie’s eyes fly furiously between you and Dustin. He’s trying to grasp what the fuck is happening. Why did you bring up Jason? Why is Dustin looking at him like that?
“Didn’t what? What’s going on?” he asks, absolutely lost.
“You should go,” Dustin answers solemnly. 
“Jesus Christ, you fucking Hendersons don't know how to have a conversation to save your lives,” Eddie grumbles as he continues packing up his stuff.
“What’s that, Munson?” You demand, stepping forward.
“C’mon, don’t-” Dustin starts.
“Dustin, go wait outside,” you order without looking at him.
Your glare remains firmly on Eddie. Eddie who is glaring firmly back, only the battle map left on the table. 
“I’m not gonna wa-”
“Outside, now.”
Dustin huffs, but ultimately listens. Once the door is slammed shut behind him you march up to Eddie. Eddie backs up, but you don't stop. Soon his back hits the wall and there’s nowhere else to go. You stop directly in front of him and start aggressively poking his chest.
“Let’s get something fucking straight, Munson. If you’re going to be using my home for your stupid fucking childish fantasy game you're not going to talk about Dustin or me that way, got it?” you spat.
“Oh, now it's a stupid fucking childish fantasy game. That’s rich. You didn’t seem to think that when you were drooling over me DMing.” Eddie counters, still holding up his facade of confidence despite being cornered. 
“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff.
“I’m not. It’s pretty fucking clear you’re into me, sweetheart.”
“Yeah? And what are you? Completely indifferent? You get a hard on just from seeing me in shorts. You're pathetic.”
Eddie wants to be hurt. He wants to be hurt so fucking bad. His body has other plans in response to your words, though. Fire spreads to every limb. He has half a mind to bend you over the table right now and show you just how pathetic he is. He’s ready to make you an incoherent mewling mess so he can lean down and whisper who’s pathetic now? into your ear. 
“And you’re a fucking tease,” he snaps instead. 
“Holy shit,” you laugh sarcastically, “You’re getting turned on right now, aren't you?”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn't you?”
“Me? Munson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
The front door slams open. You whip around and Eddie’s eyes snap up to the door. Steve is standing there with his hands on his hips, looking completely unimpressed. 
“Alright, kids, what seems to be the problem here?” Steve asks.
He steps into the trailer with Dustin at his heels. Both you and Eddie are red, breathing heavily, and still standing within an inch of each other. 
“Steve, can you just bring Dustin home, please?” you try to sound less irritated, but it doesn't work very well.
“Okay, well, one, you said I could borrow your blue jacket. And two, I’m not going anywhere until you two explain what the fuck is going on.”
“Nothing, I’m just dealing with Jason Junior over here,” you answer, crossing your arms. 
Steve’s head lolls back briefly in exasperation.
“God, Eddie, not you too,” he groans. 
“Not me too, what? Can you guys stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me what you mean?” Eddie demands.
He’s absolutely over being compared to Jason out of everyone. You huff and walk away. The three of them watch you wander into your room and then back out. You throw the blue bomber jacket at Steve. He catches it with a frown.
“Everyone just get the fuck out of my house,” you grumble and stomp back to your room.
The door slams with such force Eddie is surprised he doesn't hear the wood splinter. All three boys flinch at the sound. Eddie scoffs to himself and starts to barge out. Steve stands in front of the door, blocking Eddie’s way.
“Move, Harrington,” Eddie orders.
“Not until you tell me what all that was about, Munson.”
“Can we do this outside?” Dustin interjects.
The three of them leave the trailer. You’re left alone in your room with nothing, but endless silence. Endless silence and that heavy feeling you get in your stomach whenever you just get done ruining everything. 
“Okay, can someone please tell me what the fuck all this Jason bullshit is about?” Eddie turns on Dustin and Steve once they’re a good few feet from the trailer.
Steve and Dustin exchange a look that Eddie doesn't like. They’re both privy to something about you that Eddie isn't. It’s not surprising, but it's surely irritating. Especially when everyone is talking about it like he knows too. 
“You remember that black eye Jason had inexplicably about four months ago?” Steve sighs.
“Yeah, it was a helluva shiner.”
“I gave him that.”
Eddie spends a moment just blinking. How is this relevant?
“Okay…” Eddie trails off, shaking his head to tell Steve to continue. 
“I gave him that because he’s a little prick that really fucked’em over,” Steve continued with a gesture over his shoulder at your trailer. 
“Wait… Jason? They were with Jason?” Eddie questions in disbelief. 
“Yeah, behind locked doors. Until Jason was done playing queer and got with Chrissy without saying anything,” Dustin says bitterly.
Hearing queer from Dustin’s mouth kinda stung Eddie, he won't lie. He knows Dustin meant it in a sexuality way, not derogatory. Something he likely picked up from you. Still, there’s something about someone decidedly straight saying it. 
“When they confronted him about it he… He said some not very nice things. It really fucked with them. Like really fucked with them. I mean he wasn't the first one to do something like that, but he was the worst one,” Steve explained, sounding irritated at the memory.
“I still don't get what that has to do with me,” Eddie rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“You tell us,” Dustin crosses his arms.
“I don't fucking know.”
“Just tell us what happened between the two of you,” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose, a hand in his hip.
Eddie tucks his hands in his armpits. He spends too long looking between Dustin and Steve. He really doesn't want to do this. He really really doesn't want to do this, but he also doesn't want to be put in the same league as fucking Jason. Frustrated that he’s backed into a corner for the second time today, Eddie wets his lips with his tongue.
“Fine, fine. We’ve been flirting. Last week we made out a little- the night you guys watched E.T.. I was supposed to come over the next day after you were gone so we could… y’know,” Eddie gestures awkwardly with his hands.
Both Dustin and Steve let out an ew.
“Yeah, anyway. You were still there. When we were talking in their room I said that maybe it's for the better that we didn't do anything. After that… I dunno what happened exactly. They started going on about me having a sexuality crisis, which isn't what was happening. I was just worried you would be pissed at me if we did do something,” Eddie finishes explaining. 
Dustin and Steve exchange a look again. Eddie hates this. He hates feeling put under a microscope. He hates that you’ve turned on him so quickly. 
“You sure you weren’t… experimenting?” Steve asks, jerking his chin up at Eddie.
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I got experimenting out of my system a long time ago, alright? I know who and what I like.”
Steve nods and rubs his jaw in contemplation. He glances once more at Dustin who wears a troubled expression. That troubled expression is aimed directly at Eddie.
“You're both pussies,” Dustin states.
“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs.
“Not you,” Dustin rolls his eyes.
“I’m not a pussy. I tried, alright? Whenever we talk now it’s just a fucking fight,” Eddie says heatedly. 
“You used me as an excuse. That’s why they think you’re full of shit. You flirt and make out then all the sudden you get concerned with what I think? It’s bullshit, Eddie. You just got scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of the possibility you could have feelings!”
Eddie’s jaw sets. His hands tuck back into his armpits, now his arms apply more pressure. Acid rises in his throat. The kid is right. It’s not that he has any crazy feelings right now, but he can feel them coming. Like a sneeze building up, he can sense the oncoming rush. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak to others, the way you speak to him. Eddie knows he could catch feelings fast if given the chance. When an out was presented, he took it. It’s the feelings that make this feel messy, not your relation to Dustin.
“Can we just fucking agree that I’m not Jason?” Eddie sounds more desperate than he’d like. 
“You’re not Jason, but you gotta get them to realize that,” Steve tells him.
Eddie sighs.
“I’m going inside. I’ll see you later,” he mumbles, turning on his heel. 
This conversation has him exhausted. You have him exhausted. He knows he has to find a way to talk to you. Talk, not argue. Not fall down a rabbit hole of aggressive sexual tension. Right now, though, he needs to take a fucking nap.
***
The short rap on the front door startles you. You wait for a beat where you lay on the couch. Another set of three knocks. Curiously, you answer the door. When you see Eddie standing with the screen door open you go to close it again. His hand flies out and stops the door from shutting.
“Will you just let me talk?” He huffs.
“Fine,” you sigh and go back to the couch.
You don't bother checking if he’s following. The screen door creaking shut followed by the front door lets you know. He sits delicately next to you. There's a few inches of space left between your legs. Eddie fiddles with the rings that have become a permanent fixture on his left hand. 
“So, talk,” you order.
“I’m not Jason, alright?”
“Cool, that it? You can see yourself out.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie snaps. 
He tries to believe he made a valiant effort to stay calm. Your attitude irritates him more each time you show it. Eddie is a lot of things, patient in the face of unwarranted malice is not one of them. 
“You, you’re my fucking problem.”
“Me? Henderson, you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Eddie turns your own words against you.
Your head snaps to look at him. Nostrils flaring, face red, and eyes full of contempt. 
“Please, Munson, you’re beneath me. You’re pathetic,” you sneer.
Jesus Christ, there's no reason your words went straight to Eddie’s dick the way they did. How are you able to play him with more skill than he does his guitar? 
“I wasn't pathetic when you were sucking my face off by the dumpster,” he counters.
“You act like I sucked your dick. It was a stupid kiss.”
“I remember you wanting to jump my bones after that stupid kiss,” Eddie mocks you.
Your fists clench in your lap. You’re about a second away from grabbing Eddie by his hair and showing him just how pathetic he is. 
“Yeah, then unfortunately for you, you kept running your fucking mouth.”
“Unfortunately for me? Trust me, sweetheart, you’re the one missing out. I woulda rocked your world, anyone else woulda been ruined for you,” Eddie’s voice is condescending with a challenging edge. 
You lean in slightly with narrowed eyes.
“I really doubt that.”
Eddie leans in some.
“Do you?”
You lean in even further.
“Yeah, I do.”
Eddie’s eyes flash down to your mouth before quickly moving back to your eyes. 
“Maybe I should prove it to you then.”
“Now who wants to fuck so bad they look stupid?” You smirk. 
“Fuck it, me,” Eddie breathes and closes the space between you.
His hands are on your face. His mouth moves furiously against yours sending shockwaves down your body. One of your hands takes hold of the back of Eddie’s hair. The other runs along his jaw until it’s circled around his neck. You force him away by tugging back on his hair and pushing forward on his throat. He looks so pretty like this with his big eyes wide as can be, all pupils. His face is flushed and his breathing is ragged. Eddie is pliant in your grasp.
“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you coo teasingly.
“I’ll show you pathetic,” he grumbles.
In a blink, you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned above your head with one of Eddie’s strong calloused hands. He hovers over you. The heat radiating from his body soaks into your skin. The tip of his nose brushes against yours.
“You’re a real fucking brat, y’know that? Go on, admit it. Tell me you're a brat,” he hisses in your face, warm breath hitting your lips.
Your heart is pounding. Your body is heating up. Every part of you wants this so bad no matter how much you hate it. 
“You’re an asshole,” you hiss back.
Eddie’s rings are cold against your jaw. His grip is punishing as he manhandles your face. He presses his forehead to yours. Those huge brown eyes are commandeering as they lock onto yours.
“Am I gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you?”
You manage to let out a taunting laugh.
“You don’t have what it takes to fuck anything out of me,” you bite.
His grip tightens making talking impossible. Eddie's mouth brushes against your ear and his hair tickles your nose.
“I’m going to fuck you until the only words you know are Eddie, please, and more,” he whispers. 
You hate the shiver that runs down your spine. You hate how much he just turned you on, how much you want what he’s threatening you with. Every nerve ending is on fire. Eddie’s lips begin an assault on the soft bit of skin just below your ear. The sensation makes you squirm in delight. Eddie smiles against your neck.
“There you go, now you’re behaving. Now that you’ve finally shut the fuck up,” he taunts.
You glare at him, still unable to speak with his hand holding your face. That’s it. He’s been on you long enough. You’ve let him have control for long enough. Confusion flashes across his face when you smile. You lock your legs around Eddie’s waist. With a grunt, you launch your hips and legs up and over. 
Eddie lands with an annoyed noise on his back on the carpeted floor. You straddle him, wrists free. Now you grip both his wrists next to his head. You brandish a wicked smile as he looks up at you in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting to be bested at that moment. Your knees dig into the carpet uncomfortably around his hips, but you ignore it. Eddie’s slightly nervous expression takes your attention off of it. You lean in to brush the tips of your noses together like he did before. 
“What, big boy? Not feeling very confident anymore? You got no more to say?” you mock him quietly.
“I already said everything I need to say,” he mumbles back.
“What’s that, bitch? I didn't hear you,” your voice drips with venom. 
Something in Eddie completely snaps. He swears he hears the sound of it. A deafening CRACK SNAP POP. Then whatever wild animal that has been scratching at his insides bursts free. 
“Alright, I’m real fuckin’ tired of this attitude, sweetheart. Guess I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.”
You open your mouth to challenge him further. To berate him, degrade him. He can feel it. While it would only egg him on, only contribute to the growing erection in his pants, he won't allow it. He won't let you win control over this situation. Not this time. You’re already far too smug.
Eddie manages to rip his hands away from yours. In a blink, he’s sitting up. You place your hands flat on his chest to shove him back down, but he moves too fast. His hands are under your ass, scooping you up as he stands in a second. Instinctively, you wrap yourself around him to avoid falling. He has a firm steady grip on you, though.
“You won't be able to walk right when I’m done with you,” he growls, setting off for your bedroom.
“I just don't believe you’re good enough at sex for that,” you whisper into his ear with a smirk.
“Oh, I’ll make a believer out of you. My dick will have you meeting God and calling him by my name.”
He throws you onto your bed. The rough manhandling is something you never knew you wanted. It’s riling you up even more. 
“You got condoms or are we doing this raw?” Eddie questions.
“I have condoms, but we’re doing this raw anyway,” you answer smugly.
“Is that what you think?” he taunts.
He rummages around your bedside table. There’s a decent sized box of condoms that’s about three quarters of the way empty. Admittedly, you haven't touched the box in a while. It’s from another life that ended months ago. However, when Eddie teases you about them, you find yourself lying.
“Jesus Christ, you’re more of a fucking whore than I took you for,” he holds up the box, shaking it to emphasize how empty it is.
“I like sex, and I like cumming even more. Too bad only one of those things will be happening tonight.”
Eddie takes out a condom and throws the box back in the drawer. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off unceremoniously. You can see the imprint of his dick hardening in his tight boxers. He looks down at you with hooded lustful eyes. Soon you’re staring at his bare dick, his underwear abandoned on the floor. It bobs throbbing and red, glistening with precum. 
“Get on your hands and knees. M’gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like havin’ it open so fuckin’ much,” he snaps.
You don’t know why, but you listen. Now that you’re on your bed with Eddie’s dick right there, all fight is gone. Eddie's hand grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes into your mouth. 
“Shit,” he moans as you welcome him in with a twirl of your tongue. 
He starts fucking your face slowly. You look up at him through your lashes. Eddie is watching you take him into your mouth like it's nothing. The eye contact makes you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he brushes the back of your throat. 
“Never thought I’d get you to shut the fuck up,” Eddie grunts as he picks up his pace. 
You try to remove your mouth. A scalding remark on the tip of your tongue. His grip on your hair tightens until it burns. His thrusts don't break.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. I plan on cumming down your throat before that loud mouth of yours starts up again.”
And fuck if that doesn't send you on a mission. Eddie doesn't even need to guide you after that, but it doesn't stop him. He refuses to relinquish control. He refuses to give you an opportunity to flip this on him. Finally, his hips stutter. Then he’s holding your head, calling out a resounding FUCK, and buries your nose in the dark hair at the base of his dick. You moan as Eddie shoots hot streams of cum down your throat. You take every last drop.
Once he’s finished, his grip on your hair loosens. You sit back on your heels. While making eye contact, you use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. It’s a move that makes Eddie’s softening dick twitch.
“You had something to say?” Eddie's voice is raspy, but still condescending.
You narrow your eyes at him. As if he wasn't just using your mouth to get off, you cross your arms petulantly. 
“No, it’s okay. I don't think your fragile ego can handle it,” you shrug.
Eddie huff in disbelief.
“I just fucked my cum down your throat and your gonna call my ego fragile?”
“Seems so.”
“Just tell me what you were gonna fuckin’ say,” he orders, climbing into the bed over you.
Eddie crowding you causes you to lay back. Even in the compromising position, you smirk smugly. Eddie’s hair tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“It was nothing really… Just that Jason’s dick always managed to shut me up way faster than yours did,” you say casually, almost bored. 
“Jason’s di- are you seriously bringing him up right now?”
“Why, that bother you?”
“Considering I’m about to make you meet God like we talked about, yeah a little,” Eddie’s voice is breathy. 
He actually sounds a bit irritated.
“Never took you for the religious type.”
Eddie gets a wicked smile.
“‘M not, but you’re already in bed with the Devil, baby. Only one other Big Man to meet.”
“Big? Is that what you think of yourself?”
“Do you need a reminder? I’ll be happy to fuck that pretty mouth of yours again.”
Eddie leans down closer. Fuck, you want to kiss him. You don't. You won't let him know just how much you’re enjoying this. Instead you smile teasingly.
“You think my mouth is pretty?” You bat your eyelashes at him.
“Fuck, I hate to admit it, but… Not gonna lie, I think every part of you is unreal. Y’know, until you start talking.” 
You snake your hands up Eddie’s chest. Slowly and sensually, you make your way up his shoulders. Then you skirt up and around to the back of his neck until your fingers tangle in his hair. Eddie really likes when you play with his hair. You can tell by the way his eyelids droop a little more at the contact. He almost looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss you. So, you take your chance.
Your grip tightens tenfold. Eddie’s eyes widen as you pull him back, sitting up in the process. He hisses, but doesn't complain otherwise. You glide the tip of your nose up the side of his neck until you reach his earlobe. With a smirk, you angle your head up so you can speak into his ear. 
“I’m gonna use that big mouth of yours since you like having it open so fucking much,” you whisper, using his own words against him.
You swear you hear him breathe a curse. You let go of his hair, knowing he’ll follow you wherever you lead. Eddie is sure you could lead him into Mordor, up Mount Doom, and down into the lava like Sméagol. He’s sure that whatever painful obsession the ring of power imposed on Frodo, you just imposed on him. For better or worse. Eddie Munson is officially and completely captivated by you. You’re his precious.
That’s why he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't argue. He doesn't talk back. Instead he watches, waits patiently for you to settle into your pillows and peel off your shorts and underwear. Eddie happily, even eagerly, let’s you fuck his face like he did yours. You swear his tongue is magic. It’s hitting all the right spots, deft movements eliciting loud moans from you. 
“Look at you. Just as pathetic as I thought,” you say as your thighs clench around Eddie’s head, your fingers digging into his scalp.
All Eddie can manage is a moan as you fill his mouth. You don't take as long as Eddie did to finish. Him using you and cumming down your throat had gotten you close enough, closer than you care to admit. You cum with a loud moan, no actual words coming out. With your fingers tangled in his hair, you pull him up. He looks dazed, drunk on your taste. 
“At least your mouth is good for something,” you tell him with a slick grin. 
Christ, Eddie is a goner. He’s an absolute goner. This is so so bad.
“Look at you, you’re already all fucked out and we haven't even gotten to actually fucking yet. You’re really making me miss Jason…” you sigh dramatically. 
The mention of Jason again wakes Eddie up. A growl rumbles through his chest. His hand finds your wrist, applying enough pressure to get you to let go of his hair. He clambers over you, face real close to yours. There’s something hungry in his dark eyes. Something carnivorous.
“I’m gonna make sure you forget about fucking Jason,” he hisses.
“Fucking Jason is the one thing I like to remember,” you tease.
Eddie silently curses his own poorly placed fuck that gave you that opening. Hearing Jason’s name in the middle of this is seriously starting to grate his nerves.
“That’s it,” Eddie grumbles.
Before you can question him, he grabs onto your waist. With little effort he flips you onto your stomach. Your face is held sideways against your pillows. Eddie forces your hips in the air. You can feel the tip of his dick tease your entrance, causing you to twitch. 
“What happened to the condom, prude?” you spit at him from your compromised position.
“The whore wanted it raw, the whore will get it raw,” he growls back. 
It’s in that submissive state, Eddie’s rings digging into your scalp as he holds you down, him degrading you that you realize you’re a goner. You’re an absolute goner. This is so, so bad.
“What’re you waitin’ for then?” you question.
A loud SLAP rings out and a burning sensation spreads across your ass cheek. You gasp at the feeling. 
“This is for my pleasure, whore. This isn't about you. I’ll go as fast or slow as I like.”
On the last word Eddie pushes into you. He doesn't go too fast at first. Sure, he wants to fuck you until you can't walk, but he doesn't want to hurt you. The foreplay was minimal, slow is better for now. You whine as he bottoms out. Completely stretched out and full you can do nothing but grip the sheets on either side of your head. 
Slowly, Eddie begins to move. He’s so lost in the feel of you around him and his own mutterings of Jesus Christ that he doesn't register you speaking at first.
“What?” He breathes.
You cackle.
“Christ, Munson, you’re pathetic.”
There’s that word again. That fucking word. Eddie leans down, both of your damp shirts still on and sticking to each other. 
“Remember what I said earlier?” he whispers into your ear.
“I remember you saying you think I’m unreal,” you mock him.
He straightens back up.
“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’ while you still can. Soon you’ll only be able to say Eddie,” he gives a single powerful thrust earning a moan from you, “please,” another powerful thrust, “more.”
Eddie sets off on a wild chase of his second orgasm and your delirium. Admittedly, that delirium was setting in very fast. His movements are quick, strong, and fluid. You can't think of anyone else who has fucked you like this. In a way you didn't realize you’ve been craving. In a way that doesn't make you feel like an object, a subject to be studied, or a novelty. Eddie makes you feel a person who is desired, even in spite of the animosity ripe between you. He makes you feel like a whore in the best way possible.
“Shit, you feel so fucking good,” Eddie groans as you tighten around him. 
He’s giving you so much already, but he was right. There are only three words you can think of right now. Only three words you think you’re capable of uttering.
“Eddie,” you moan.
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
“Please.”
“Come again?”
“More.”
“Not sure I heard you right,” he says smugly, never breaking pace.
“Eddie, please, more,” you moan.
“Thought so.”
Eddie’s thrusts become animalistic. All the anger, frustration, name calling, and overall emotion from the rollercoaster that your relationship has been are being taken out on you. You start saying it like a mantra. Eddie, please, more. It’s a white flag, a surrender. It’s you telling him he’s won. Boy, oh, boy is it a sweet fucking sound. A sound that turns into a scream of a moan with your body tensing around him. He spills into you, hips flush against your ass. His own moans mingle with yours in the air. 
You collapse onto your stomach, Eddie close behind. He stays on top of you. After a minute of catching his breath he rolls off of you. You stay on your stomach as you come back to your senses. 
“You alright, Henderson?” Eddie’s voice is much softer than you’re expecting. 
You turn your head to face him. He’s watching you with wide eyes. How does he manage to look so innocent after everything he just did to you?
“Yeah, Munson, I’m peachy. You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He nods, eyes never leaving you. Your eyes don't leave him. What’s the point in trying to hide staring after all that? You don't care that he is and he doesn't care that you are. 
“So, you still miss fucking Jason?” Eddie asks playfully.
“Who?” 
“Good,” he smiles, looking awfully pleased with himself. 
“Do we still hate each other? I can't remember anymore,” you knit your eyebrows to feign confusion. 
Eddie laughs. It’s a low sound that rumbled through his chest. His eyes take on a gooey quality that you fear you may get stuck in.
“I think we might like each other now. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Sounds good to me.”
***
The scent of sex is thick and heavy in the air when you wake up. Golden light streaks across your face as the sun lowers beneath the horizon. When you shift to turn over and check the time on your alarm clock, a warm weight stops you. Eddie’s arms are around you loosely, holding you against his chest. Both of you are still in only your shirts. 
Carefully, you extract yourself. Eddie groans, but doesn't wake. You only bother with a new pair of underwear. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble and the hunger hits you. You take another look at Eddie’s sleeping form. The annoyance doesn't creep up at the sight of him anymore. Something else does in its place. Something you decide not to dwell on. All you know is if you’re this hungry, he’ll wake up hungry too.
Eddie wakes up to the smell of sex, bacon, eggs, and melted butter. It takes a second to get his bearings. The smell makes him think morning, but the position of the sun tells him it's evening. He crawls out of your bed and pulls his bottom layers back on. When he makes his way out to the main living area he finds you in the kitchen. You’re humming God Only Knows and pushing eggs around in a sizzling pan. Beside you is a plate of bacon and a plate of pancakes. 
There’s a moment where the only thing Eddie can do is watch you. You’re bathed in the last golden rays of the evening, nothing but that baggy white muscle tank and a fresh pair of black underwear. The song isn't one he goes out of his way to listen to, but Wayne has thrown it on a few times. Enough for Eddie to recognize the Beach Boys’ tune. 
“All that for you?” Eddie finally alerts you to his presence. 
You jolt a little in surprise and whip around to look at Eddie. A coy smile crawls upon your face.
“Uh- no. I woke up starving and figured you would too,” you shrug.
As if on cue, Eddie’s stomach lets out a loud growl. You laugh and gesture for him to sit at the table. The whole scene feels so… domestic. If something in Eddie snapped earlier, something else is connecting now. There’s a satisfying click in his head as the sensation of things finally being on the right track sets in. 
“Y’know, I didn’t peg you for a Beach Boys fan,” Eddie comments after a moment of only the sound of you scraping eggs around the pan.
You don't look at him, but Eddie swears he sees color rise to your cheeks.
“I’m not really. It… my dad used to sing that song all the time,” you explain, something close to troubled taking over your voice.
Eddie’s eyebrows raise. He’s never heard mention of Father Henderson before. Dustin only ever has complaints about your mom. Neither of you have mentioned a father until now.
“Dustin’s never mentioned-”
“He wasn't Dustin’s dad.”
You slide the scrambled eggs onto the last empty plate. Eddie watches you bring them over before grabbing a couple more plates for the two of you to eat from. Then some cutlery.
“I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject,” he apologizes with big eyes as you sit across from him.
You begin shoveling food onto your plate.
“You didn't. I actually love talking about him, but my mom and Dustin have never really felt the same. So, I just don’t.”
“Do you want to talk about him now?” 
You finally look at Eddie. Eyebrows slightly raised, eyes a tad wider than normal, and a soft smile on your lips. He wonders if it's okay to reach over and kiss you. 
“His favorite song was God Only Knows by the Beach Boys, but I guess you probably figured that out.”
“Not a bad choice.”
You chuckle.
“I can't imagine you listening to the Beach Boys.”
“I don't, but Wayne does sometimes. God Only Knows is one of the only ones that doesn't make me want to rip my hair out,” he flashes you a playful smile.
“My dad would sing it whenever he was doing something boring. Laundry, dishes, but especially cooking.”
Eddie nods as he fills his own plate. There’s a couple minutes where the two of you eat in silence. Occasional voices could be heard outside, some cats, and the clinking of bottles as recycling goes out. The average soundtrack of Forest Hills.
“Can I ask what happened or is that not cool?” Eddie asks genuinely. 
He really doesn't know how to navigate this conversation. He doesn't want to piss you off or upset you in general. All he knows is how he would want to be asked and, honestly, he simply wouldn't. You don’t seem as closed off on that front as he is, though.
“Pancreatic cancer. My mom ended the marriage before the cancer did, though. Said it was too much for her to handle.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eddie suddenly felt very guilty for asking.
You just shrug. 
“Where’s Dustin’s dad?”
“Who knows,” you snort, “he ran off with some woman from his job.”
“Jeez, your mom really has-”
“Poor choice in men? Yeah.”
“I was gonna say piss poor luck.”
You laugh, which loosens some of the tension that's built around the conversation. Eddie chuckles along, scarfing some food down in the process. 
“We would fly kites when it was nice out. Sometimes he’d bring me to the lake where we’d fish and swim. He liked going to the library a lot, too. I basically grew up in the mystery section. A lot of that was lost when the cancer got bad, though. All of it, really. All of it except that song. No matter how bad it got, he always sang that song,” you rattle on sadly, but with a smile.
It’s been so long since you've talked about him. It feels good. Like visiting him after a long time away. Memories are nice, but there’s something special about sharing them. It’s easier to relive them. Easier to enjoy them when you get to do it with someone else. Maybe it’s just because that someone else is Eddie. You think if anyone will understand, or at the very least respect, how it feels it'd be him. 
“What was his name?”
“Jack. Jack Coleman.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. He narrows his eyes and leans in, pointing his fork in an accusatory fashion. 
“Wait, so, you’re not a Henderson? You’re a Coleman?” He questions.
You break out in a smile. 
“Guilty.”
Eddie looks like he was struck by lightning. Like the heavens just opened up and revealed the meaning of life to him. 
“Shit, wait… I do remember you!”
“No, you don't,” you shake your head, attempting to hide how mortified that sentence makes you.
“Yes, I totally do! All your friends called you Cole. You had those sick green vans,” he wears a goofy smile.
You feel heat crawl up your neck.
“You remember my vans?”
Now it’s Eddie’s turn to flush bright red.
“Yeah, like I said, they were sick.”
“I still have’em somewhere. Maybe I’ll break’em out one day,” you smile.
Both of you clear your plates after that. You really were hungry. It’s an amicable silence. One that grows more uncomfortable in your chest because you know another hard conversation has to be had.
“I know you’re not Jason, by the way. I mean, I know now. Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I've been through a lot of Jasons,” you tell him softly.
Eddie offers a soft smile.
“S’alright. Would you tell me what happened there? I can't imagine you with fuckin’ Jason.”
You chuckle.
“Yeah, he asked me for help at work and then started saying all the right things. The dating pool for me in Hawkins is small. So, when he said he didn't want anyone to know I said okay. When he pretended not to know me in public I said okay. Then, one day, he was just…,” you frown at the memory of them walking down the street holding hands, “with Chrissy Cunningham. I asked him about it, but he was pissed I called his house. Called me about every derogatory name you can think of.”
Eddie could actually kill Jason. He already hated him, but now he’s actively cursing the ground the asshole walks on. How could he treat you so shitty? How could he not feel grateful he gets to be in your presence in this capacity? 
“Well, I’d like to keep doing this. As public as possible. I want everyone to know I’m with someone this unreal,” he keeps his tone playful, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. 
Your heart starts pounding against your chest. Eddie is sitting across from you offering you everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Someone who not only wants to be with you, but is proud to be with you. It’s almost too much. 
“So, you're with me now, huh?” you tease.
“I sure am,” Eddie teases back with a wolfish grin.
“Maybe let's start with an actual date.”
“You asking me out, Hen-Coleman,” he places emphasis on getting the last name right. 
A smile forms on your lips. You don't have an issue with being called a Henderson. The different last name is why so many people don't know you and Dustin are related. So, you don't correct people anymore when they call you Henderson. The reminder that you're technically only half siblings has always upset Dustin.
“Yeah, I think I am, Munson.”
“Then I expect to be picked up at seven sharp. You better have flowers and chocolates. I’m expensive to date.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Eddie helps you clean without you asking. He takes over the dishes, scooting you out of the way and instructing you to dry and put them away. 
“I dunno where anything goes,” is his excuse.
Really, he just wanted to take on the more arduous task for you. A sort of repayment for making him food. The effortless kindness you've met him with after the sex you had. The angry, heated sex. Eddie finds it kinda funny how the two of you have fallen into this little exchange of kindness and good will considering how the day began. 
When the dishes are all done and put away, Eddie begins awkwardly fiddling with his rings. It feels like his time with you is coming to an end. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, but fuck does he want to stay. Just hanging out with you like this makes him feel… normal. He doesn't feel like the Freak, the drug dealer, or the fuck up. He just feels like Eddie and, for the first time, he feels like maybe that's enough. 
“Is it really dumb to ask you to stay?” you ask him suddenly.
You’re standing across the small kitchen, having just put the last of the plates away. Eddie looks at you with wide, excited eyes.
“Awe, you wanna spend more time with me, Coleman?” Eddie coos teasingly. 
“Alright, forget I said anything,” you roll your eyes with a smile.
Eddie lets out a laugh.
“I’ll stay until you kick me out,” he smiles back. 
You don't kick him out until you have to go to work the next afternoon.
***
The next time Dustin calls to beg for permission for Hellfire to meet at your place, you agree without hesitation. The day before you work, but only until five. Eddie is waiting in his van in front of the store when you exit, a lit cigarette between his lips. You smile and hop in. 
“I wasn't expecting you to pick me up,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.
You know he had work at the record store today. Eddie takes one last drag of his cigarette and puts it out in the cup holder on his side. He’s been doing that ever since you yelled at him for flicking his butts out the window. 
“Got out at four. I’m not gonna let my precious Coleman walk home if I can help it,” he shows off a goofy smile and starts to drive. 
“You think I’m precious,” you coo.
“More precious than the One Ring,” he coos back.
“Okay, you've lost me.”
Eddie glances at you in disbelief.
“You have Henderson as a brother and you don't know Lord of the Rings?” 
“Oh, that’s those books that read like textbooks, right?”
“Read like- Jesus Christ, I might have to rethink this whole situation,” he says to himself.
“Sorry,” you laugh, “I don’t have much time for reading. So, when I do, if it's not simple and to the point, I can't get into it.”
“Lord of the Rings is art. It’s a painting on paper.”
“Aren’t all paintings on paper?”
“Canvas,” he corrects, “you’re makin’ me feel real smart today.”
“Glad I can be of service,” you say sarcastically. 
“Seriously, though. That’s like… my favorite thing other than D&D and music,” his voice is more tender, more serious.
And you, he thinks. It’s far too early to admit that. Doesn't mean he doesn't feel that way, though.
“Maybe I can give it another go,” you shrug.
Eddie throws a soft smile your way. You hold onto the warmth it fills you with for as long as you can. Eddie ends up staying the night, which isn't much of a surprise. It was clear he was expecting it because he brought his D&D bag with him. It did make setting up the next day easier since he was already there. 
By the time Dustin shows up Eddie is all set up. You’re laying on the couch, Eddie is crouched beside you. His face is close to yours, a sly smile present. You’re busy giggling like a maniac at whatever he must have said. Dustin lets the screen door fall shut behind him. The sound of it slamming startles you and Eddie. 
“What’s going on?” Dustin asks suspiciously. 
Eddie smiles widely.
“Just telling Coleman here what’s in store for you guys today,” he says easily. 
Dustin visibly stiffens. He doesn't find this situation as amusing as the two of you seem to.
“Coleman,” Dustin states, eyes set on you.
You can see the hurt. It’s been so long since you've corrected someone on your last name. You didn't think about how the sudden change might make Dustin feel rejected.
“Yeah, y’know, their last name,” Eddie eggs the conversation on, unaware of the ugly feelings bubbling up.
“I know their last name, Eddie,” Dustin snaps. 
That clues Eddie into the sore nature of the subject. He glances apologetically between you and Dustin. 
“Dustin, don’t be rude,” you chide.
“You two were at each other’s throats the last time I saw you together and you’re telling me not to be rude?” 
“Well, we’re not at each other’s throats now. So, yeah, I am,” you begin catching Dustin’s own attitude. 
You sit up, causing Eddie to stand. 
“Whatever, it’s bullshit and you know it,” he rolls his eyes and throws his bag down next to the chair he usually occupies. 
“Excuse me, what’s bullshit?” You question and stand up.
Eddie is watching helplessly. He can't help but feel like he incited this situation. Dustin gestures widely at the air around you and Eddie.
“You telling me what to do. You guys are friends today, but tomorrow you’ll probably be fighting again. Isn't that how it goes with you?”
Any emotion falls from your face. Your hands shake a bit. You won't let them see you break. You won't derail their night. Besides, Dustin is right. You and Eddie are good now, but you like to blow up all the good things in your life. Ever since your father died, the idea that anything good may be permanent feels more like a pipe dream. It’s easier to discard good things before good things discard you.
“Yeah, it is. I’m going to be in my room. Have fun with your campaign,” you mumble and storm past him to your room.
The door doesn't slam. It clicks shut calmly, which is scarier. Eddie rounds on Dustin. 
“What the fuck is your problem, Henderson?” he demands.
“I don't have a problem.”
“You wanna talk about bullshit? What is it? Am I not good enough-”
“Eddie, you know that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
Dustin takes a second. He sighs, closing his eyes, and then opening them once more.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” 
The waver in Dustin’s voice throws Eddie off. His features soften as he looks at Dustin. Guilt washes over him. Sure, Dustin might be younger and Eddie might see him as a protege, or a younger brother, but he’s still one of Eddie’s best friends. Fuck, this was really shitty of him. He should have told Dustin he’s into you, regardless of how obvious it was. He should have told him you two have hooked up and are seeing where things go. Maybe not official, but exclusive. Instead, he acted like it didn't matter. Like it didn't matter that he’s seeing his best friend’s older sibling. Eddie runs an anxious hand over his face, stopping at his chin to hold it in thought.
“I’m really sorry, Dustin,” is all he can say in the end.
“I don't want an apology. I want an answer. I asked you so many times, Eddie. Every time you just dismissed me. I’m not stupid! And I don’t care! I’m happy for you, for both of you. I just… I just really wish you told me.”
Eddie takes a shaky breath. Dustin's words fall heavy on his shoulders. They're a weight he can tell he’ll be carrying for a while. 
“I should’ve. I was afraid of what you'd think. What you’d say. It’s not an excuse, I know, but… I dunno I think this is real, man. It feels real.”
Dustin does what Eddie thought he may never do again. He hugs him. It takes Eddie a second to register, but once he does he hugs back tight. He’s hopeful when they separate. 
“I think it’s great. Seriously, you both look really happy. But if you hurt them, Eddie, I’ll get Steve to beat you up.”
Eddie nods with wide eyes.
“Understood.”
“Okay, I have to go apologize,” Dustin sighs. 
Eddie watches him disappear to your room. Mike and Will come strolling in. Eddie thanks whatever is out there that they showed after all that. 
***
“So, we’ve been doin’ this a while now,” Eddie says, head lolling over to look at you.
You’re in your bed, fully clothed. These nights are Eddie’s favorite. Together in bed for the sake of being together in bed and nothing else. Eddie’s hair is splayed out behind him. The singular telephone pole light outside exposes the blush on his cheeks. It makes you smile. You like that you do that to him. 
“I s’pose we have,” your voice is soft and quiet.
“D’you maybe wanna make this an official thing?” 
He looks shy, nervous. It’s adorable. 
“I’d love to be an official thing with you.”
“Metal,” he breathes with a smile.
You chuckle and press a joyful kiss on his lips. When you pull away Eddie can tell you have an idea. Your smile gets this funny little quirk when you get an idea.
“Since we’re an official thing, I guess you should formally meet my father,” you try to sound serious.
Pure confusion crosses Eddie’s face. You gesture to the set up on your dresser. A small urn and some photos. Understanding and then mischief lights up his face. He hops out of bed and stands before the dresser. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Eddie says and bows as if addressing a king. 
You let out a little laugh. Then he’s staring tenderly at the photos. One from your third birthday. You're on your father’s lap covered in cake. Another is from one of the times he took you fishing. You’re around six in that particular photo. The final photo shows you at eight. Your father looks so much older despite it only being a few years. He’s paler, thinner, and more tired looking. You’re tucked into bed with him, asleep. Eddie can only assume it's the last photo you took with him. 
“You were a cute kid,” he comments adoringly and jumps back into bed.
“What, I’m not cute now?” you tease.
“No, you're unreal now, remember,” he smiles.
You chuckle.
“You’re unreal too, Munson.”
One thing’s for sure, Eddie was right. This official thing is definitely real and it’s definitely it for both of you. 
1K notes · View notes
saenora · 9 months
Note
Imagine meeting your neighbor Yuuta in the apartment next yours. You were coming back home from another shitty date night. Cursing about how the guy just wanted to fuck you and didn’t even pay for the food. You were tired and tipsy and mostly angry, as your keys seem to be working against you, you tried twisting and turning the key multiple times in the keyhole to get inside your apartment. But it just wasn’t working, you let out a scream and bang your head against the door. Tears pricking at your eyes as you choked out sobs. You then hear the door turning and around the corner peeked a timid looking young man? Teen? He looked old enough not to be called a kid but his babyface made him seem really young. You blink at him thru unshed tears and jumped away from the door. “O-oh shit! This was your apartment! I am so fucking sorry, I thought this was my apartment, you see I’m not a crazy person, I swear! I just-I-fuck-I” You start babbling about your terrible date night to your confused and possibly scared neighbor you just met.
You couldn’t stop yourself though, like the tears, your words just kept on spilling out. Until your were a crying mess, your neighbor didn’t end up calling the cops on you though, he held you in his arms and soothes your cries until you were just whimpering. He listen to your words and said sweets words to you that made your heart melt and heat pool in your core. He invited you inside his apartment after you calmed down, saying “I hate to leave a pretty girl like you stained with tears all alone tonight…” He was so sweet and nice, and alluring.. your mind was a daze as you knew you shouldn’t trust a stranger but the way he held your hand and wiped away your tears… You joined him inside.
“Ah-Ah-mmm-hahh!” Now here you were, legs locked into a mating press by the boy that was just sweet talking you earlier. You were crying once again, but not from sadness this time, you were crying from the overstimulation, Yuuta was giving you on your spent pussy. “Yuuta! Yuu-ahhh, Yuuta, Yuuta!” You chanted his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say even though you barely learned it tonight. His hips slammed in yours with such force that the bed shake beneath you everytime, his thumb was rubbing circles on your puffy clit, the cum and juices leftover from the orgasms before made it quite easy for him to rub at you. “It’s your fault, you know.. hahh.. fuck.. banging on my door like that.. wearing this slutty dress..mmf.. like you were begging me to just fuck you then and there..”
You whined as you start to feel another orgasm building, however this time, Yuuta pulled out his thick cock and slapped it against your twitching clit. His arms still pressing your legs against your chest. "You want to come again...?"
"Hmm... tell me that won't go see those other men anymore and that this pussy.." He slaps his wrist this time against your pussy, causing you to try to buck your hips up, to no avail. "Belongs to me and only me... and then I'll give you what you been begging for.."
RAHHH YUUTA IM TIRED STOP INVADING MY BRAIN PLS
SOFTIEEEE I AHVE BEEN REREADING THIS OVWR AND OVER AGAINSHE TRYING TO FIND TEH RITE WORDS TO TYPE IN THE RESPONSE 😭😭😭 BUT I CANTSHDDJ FRFRFRFR… THIS YUUTA ISSS SUCHA. DREAM… NEED HIM TO RUTT AGAINST ME 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 HE IS SUCHA. NEEED AND I CAN BE SO NEEDY FOR H— BYE
#: @mrskenmakozume @kenruu @daikiiss
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vivgst · 3 months
Text
She hates monotony and loves the new challenge she finds in you, so she won't rest until she gets her way, as always (Part three).
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Just one part left yayy, btw Idk what is happening but I think Tumblr is not showing my posts so pls INTERACT with this thanks<3333
TW: guns I guess, Idk how to use tw leave me alone.
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Part of her expected that, to wake up and realize that you weren't by her side, that you had run away… such a coward. However, she did not expect to go to the club and not find you, as if earth had swallowed you and she began to get desperate.
Playing hard to get and not being afraid of her was one thing, but disappearing without telling her? It wasn't exactly the best thing you could do and she would find you, she would search even under the stones.
For now she was already at the club so she would try to make it worth it, she tried, she really did but it was difficult for her because she had already gotten used to the cold vibe that surrounded you, your arrogance, your stubbornness.
Having a woman in front of her who looked like a scaredy cat didn't exactly cause any memorable reaction, so she rolled her eyes.
“Are you new, chula?” She asked without much excitement, the woman who was in the room with her shook her head, Valeria wanted to die, this was not going to work...
She took a sip of her whiskey before getting up from the couch and leaving money on the table, she couldn't go back to be with women who were scared to even breathe the same air as her, women who weren't you. She needed the challenge, the swearing, the cold eyes.
So she would find you, she didn't even have to work for it, just ask here and there about you and soon she had an answer.
“I didn’t give you my home address.” You narrowed your eyes at her, she completely ignored you and walked in, walking around the place as if it was hers and gave you a look that was somewhere between mocking and impressed.
“Nice place, how many clients do you have daily to own a place like this?” You shrugged, the truth was that you didn't need too many clients when the one who had gotten you the place was only one, however you were a pain in the ass.
“Quite a few, I usually can't count them with one hand.”
"Careful". She gave you a stern look and you almost grinned, but you saved it. You walked to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of wine, Valeria looked at you from top to bottom, that black silk robe was quite tight, quite short, almost...
“Did you come here to fuck me?” You brought her out of her thoughts with that question and she scoffed, you were impossible, as blunt as usual.
“Fucking god…” She muttered, shaking her head and took a moment to look into your eyes, the truth is she didn't have an answer in mind, I mean, what had she thought when she came to your apartment? “I came because you were running away from me.”
“And if you know I'm running away from you, why the hell are you still looking for me?” You spoke in a monotone voice and Valeria gave you a look full of disbelief, you were detestable even though you were right but that didn't make you any less detestable.
"Because I can".
“I’m not going to have sex with you again.”
"Why?"
"Just because". That made Valeria growl in frustration, it was so difficult to get you to talk, she wanted to yell at you but even that wouldn't work. You took a sip from your glass and looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds before speaking again. “I don't like to enjoy it, I don't like to have sex for pleasure.”
She moved closer to you, cradling your face in her hands as her gaze burned into yours and you decided to blame the few sips of wine you had taken for the sudden urge to kiss her that you were feeling.
Valeria could notice something else in your gaze, guilt, perhaps, but she didn't ask any further, she didn't want to make you angry or uncomfortable.
"So… did you like it?" She asked in a mutter, her hands sliding down your body until they wrapped around your waist and pressed her body to yours, you placed your hands on her chest, you needed her to pull away but you wanted to have her close. You had mixed emotions and you let her take advantage of that, you let her bring her face closer to yours, your lips parting, inviting her to kiss them.
"I liked it". You admitted in a whisper and that was enough for Valeria to capture your lips in a kiss, a little slower than the previous ones you had shared. Her lips slid over yours almost tenderly and you clung to her, to her arms.
“Let me get you out of that place.” She spoke between kisses and you shook your head, you couldn't, you had problems to deal with and you didn't know if you would ever be able to escape from that place.
“I can't, no…” You said panting, pulling away from her, your lips still tingling with the feeling of the kiss, you hated wanting her so much.
Valeria was going to protest but was interrupted by the doorbell, she frowned, who was looking for you so late at night?
She felt even more confused when she looked at your face, you looked scared. You weren't even afraid of her, there were bodies covered with narcomantas all over the town thanks to her and her desire to mark territory and you never hesitated to tell her to go fuck herself so, who could make you scared like that?
"You have to go". You spoke as you hurried to throw away the remaining wine from your glass and almost dragged her to the door, Valeria wasn't going to protest, she was going to watch.
You opened the door to a tall man, his long hair tied in a ponytail and he probably had more tattoos than years, he didn't look like a gang member but more like a rich kid, his gaze and Valeria's met for a slight moment as she left your apartment and once she was outside she began to hear a lot of yelling, which made her lose her patience a little.
She went to the parking lot and once she was inside the car she had an internal battle between getting back and punching the bastard in the face or just leaving. She had a lot of questions, she wanted to know if that idiot was the one who had hit you, if he was the client who had made you get used to violence and why the hell you depended on him so much.
And since she knew very well that her questions would fall on deaf ears, she would look for the answers herself.
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“Pues la familia tiene varo, son franceses y medio gringos, él sí nació aquí” (Well, the family is wealthy, they’re half French and half Americans, he was born here though). Diego spoke as he went through the folders with the information he had gotten of Kyle, the boy Valeria had seen in your apartment.
“Hmm… ¿Y por qué chingados le paga todo?” (Hmm… and why the fuck does he pays everything for her?) She mumbled thoughtfully, she had a lot of information about him, but Valeria was getting nowhere with all this, he had kept you out of his life it seemed.
“Pues no sé, wey” (I don’t know, dude). Diego spoke and cleared his throat when Valeria glared at him, he couldn't afford not to have the answers she wanted. “Pero se la pasa en el club el vato, yo creo que vive del varo de los papás” (But he is always at the club, I think he lives off his parents' money.)
“Lo más probable, está morro aún” (Probably, he’s still young). Valeria looked at Diego for a few seconds before taking the folders and looking through them, she felt stupid for going to such lengths for you, you would probably be mad at her, again.
She gave a couple more instructions to her men before she was left alone in the mansion, she was thinking what the hell she would do.
She didn't need information to threaten him, fuck the reasons why you were seeing him, she would get him away from you and that's it, she had no laws and she didn't care how rich that kid was.
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The boy's smug look swept over Valeria from head to toe and she narrowed her eyes at him, she was in no mood to take shit from anyone, much less from that brat.
"You can't touch me." He spoke and she let out a mocking laugh, giving him a condescending look. If Valeria hated something, it was being challenged, there was no one untouchable for her, she had no laws.
And to prove her point, she pulled her gun from the holster on her hip and shot him in the leg, making him scream in pain, fear, or maybe both, finally his gaze had the fear she thought it should have in a situation like the one he was in. She approached him, crouching slightly to look him in the eyes intently.
“There are no rules in cartels, kid. I don't want you to touch her, to pay for her things, to look at her, I don't want you to go to the club again to breathe the same air as her, do you understand?” He didn't respond, he was dizzy from pain and fright, Valeria didn't give a damn though and pressed her gun on his wound, he growled, looking at her with rage but nodded, he couldn't speak.
“Take him back, tell the family what will be left of him if he keeps sticking his nose where it doesn't belong.”
Diego and Álvaro almost dragged him out of there and she let out a sigh, talking to you would probably be another headache because you were stubborn as a mule and refused to accept help but Valeria couldn't help it and especially after having seen that expression of fear on your face that had made her blood boil, she had to meddle.
So she got busy concluding her work and that same night she went to the club, you were there, wearing another of those dresses that made you look out of this world and she was enthralled for a moment.
“Damn woman…” She muttered sounding bitter, you drove her crazy, just seeing you from afar made her feel a thousand things that she couldn't explain.
And all those feelings only increased once your gaze met hers.
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sweet-lover-girl · 10 months
Text
Jealous Woman
Okay! So I wrote this for @glowstickfracture (hi honeybee!) I hope you like this, I’m sorry if it seems, rushed..or weird? I’m high, but I really wanted to write this for you. So I hope you like it!(I’m sorry, this isn’t long at all.. ><)
Warning(s): Spit kink(spit is mixed with blood), blood kink(brief though), possessive!Abby, jealous!Abby, Abby gets punched, but then the random guy gets his shit rocked by Abby, spit sharing(again it’s mixed with a little bit of blood), making out, I think that’s it?
———
Abigail Anderson was not a jealous woman, nope never…at least not until she met you. She was never jealous with Owen when other girls would flirt with him, she never got upset or mad, she would just shrug and go on about her day. But when you and her began dating she realized early on into the relationship that she was indeed a jealous woman. She always craved your attention, if you were focused on someone else or some task Abby would gently bump her shoulder into yours. If that didn’t get you to respond she would then huff loudly and look away, still trying to get your attention. Even if she had to put on a show to get it. If you still didn’t pay her any mind, Abby would then go and sit down somewhere and pout, waiting for you to come and find her yourself, moping, all alone. Of course once you come and find her she’s automatically okay!
But that still doesn’t excuse her behavior at the gym..(even if it was hot)
———
Abby let out another puff of air as she flexed her arm, curling the weight up making the muscle in her bicep bulged and flexed with the heavy strain. She looked out the corner of her eye and saw you were working out as well, your workout clothes were well fitting and squeezed all your curves just right. She couldn’t stop staring at you, you were just so fucking beautiful. You were this amazing person, this beautiful soul that walks the horrid world with a golden light shining down upon you. Abby felt blessed that you were even in her life let alone be all hers.
But then, Abby then saw something that made her blood boil, a man had walked up to you, disturbing your workout, talking your ear off. Abby slowly put down her weight when she saw you back up a little. She stood up but waited to see if the guy was gonna make a move on you. She knew you hated it when she started fights but fuck she can’t help it when it’s you she’s protecting.
She saw the guy take a step forward and that’s when she charged. Quickly running up to the guy and grabbing his wrist in a tight grasp, the man gasped and looked at Abby and quickly got mad. He took a swing at her and Abby suddenly tasted blood as her head jolted to the side, her jaw throbbing. The WLFs gym fall quiet as Abby looked up at the scared man realizing the error of his ways.
“My turn.” She whispered as she swing her fist, making contact with guys nose and a nasty crunching sound echoed the room making you cover your ears at the sound and tremble.
The guys head flew backwards and he landed on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ automatically knocked out from the hard punch to the face. Everyone just watched Abby huff and puff, afraid she was gonna blow on any of them if they moved. Which was your que to step in and drag her away before one of them do fuck up and make her even more angry. You quickly walk up to Abby and gently lay your hand on her shoulder, making Abby twist her head to the side to see who had the gall to touch her. But once she saw it was you she relaxed and grabbed you wrist tightly, dragging you out of the gym, you could hear the people who watched from the sidelines finally jump into action, two men grabbing the unconscious guy and carrying him to the infirmary. 
Abby was walking a few paces to fast for you to keep up, so you were jogging behind her. The tight grasp she had on your wrist began to hurt so you tug your wrist making Abby snap out of her thoughts and turn towards you. Her eyes were still raging.
Abby suddenly pushed you against the hallway wall and grabbed you by your cheeks, digging her fingertips into the hinges of your jaw to force your mouth open. She looks down at you from the length of her nose as she gathers spit in her mouth, puckering her lips Abbys spits into your open mouth. You could faintly taste sharp iron— her blood, from when she got punched. You let out a whimper as you squeeze your thighs together. Your hands shooting up to grab her wrist— trying to pull yourself away from her strong grasp - though you can’t lie to yourself, you found this incredibly hot. Abby stared down at you as she held your mouth open, her gaze flickering down to your open mouth, your twitching tongue glistening with her spit on it. Her blood.
Abby suddenly bent down and captured your lips in a hot, passionate kiss, your tongue twirling in a battle of dominance, you both sharing her blood and saliva, mixing yours with hers. She stood up pulling away from your lips and forced her fingertips into the hinges of your jaw once more, making you whimper as you stick out your tongue. Abby grins and gathers more blood-coated spit in her mouth and spat it into your mouth before leaning back down and making out with you again.
Abby finally pulls away once you begin to wiggle up against her, not knowing if she had the strength to keep kissing you without fucking you right after. Pulling away, you both were breathless. Your breast brushing up against each other’s, she gave you no space as she crowded you against the wall. Huffing as you both caught your breaths, Abby leaned her left arm against the wall and loomed over you. Leaning down, she got close next to your ear and whispered,”You’re mine, you got that baby?”
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