#but sometimes i get so fucking bitter about how things could have been
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too fast - l.h.
pairing: lewis hamilton x assistant!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, ANGST, lewis is kind of an asshole in this but he makes up for it, implication of smut, drug and alcohol usage, idk what else to include so if y'all find somethin' lemme know!
a/n: yeah here we go with the assistant and famous celebrity/athlete trope. i will always be a fan of this trope, no matter what. this fic is also heavily inspired by the song too fast by sonder. hope y'all enjoy! i figured i would take a small break from the toto content for the moment! <3
"so how are things lately?"
the lights of vegas glitter all around as you inhale, shrugging slightly, "could be better, could be worse."
"yeah?"
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"well i'm single," you avoid his gaze as you exhale, the smoke billowing into the cool air, "so yeah, things aren't great. maybe if you paid attention to our conversations you'd know."
"oh, right," he plucks the blunt out of your hands, "i don't know if you know, but i have other shit to worry about right now other than your life troubles."
"fuck you," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "we spend nearly every waking moment together and you don’t even listen to a single word that comes out of my mouth.”
“i mean,” he coughs, “that’s why you’re my assistant, and not my team principal. i don’t have to listen to you.”
“are you fucking serious right now?” you swivel on your heel, facing him.
lewis hamilton, eight time world champion stands beside you, leaning over the balcony of his suite. beneath you, the headlights of cars flash, the white noise of airplane engines humming overhead. there are the occasional beeps of horns, laughter from the other mercedes crew on other balconies, and the roar of luxury cars as they peel down the straights.
yet, lewis is as poised as ever, blunt in one hand, a bottle of heineken in the other. his gaze is glossy as he peers over at you, his nose piercing glittering in the dim light. his lips are pursed, as if he was processing the words that just came out of his mouth.
“hey,” he begins, setting the blunt on the ashtray, “i-i didn’t mean that.”
“i would sure fucking hope so,” tears well up in your eyes, heat flourishing through your cheeks and into your neck, “what the fuck is wrong with you? i literally do everything for you. i order all of your favorite things. i organize your ubers, your catering, other deliveries. i make your appointments with stylists. i book your photoshoots. i stock your fridge. i braid your hair for you. fuck lewis, i even call you every morning to make sure you’re up and awake. i can’t even get you to listen to me for three seconds?”
shaking your head, you bring your hands to your face, in a vain attempt to hide the fact that you were now sobbing. the tears flow, droplets splattering on your top as your shoulders shake, “what the fuck do i have to do to be listened to around here?”
“hey,” lewis takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around your wrists, “hey, i’m sorry. it was just a rough day. qualifying didn’t go as planned. i’m so fucking sorry.”
“s-sorry?” you choke out, “you just told me you don’t even listen to me and all i get is sorry? i know that sometimes practices don’t go according to plan but you can’t just be a fucking asshole and expect me to be okay with it.”
“i know,” lewis exhales, wrapping his arms around you, “i really fucked up, okay? something about your tone just really set me off, and i am so sorry. i got into it with toto earlier, that’s probably why i’ve been so bitter tonight.”
ah, so that was the reason behind the little outburst.
ever since lewis announced his departure from mercedes at the end of the 2024 season, the once positive relationship between the driver and his team principal was quickly deteriorating. frequent arguments about the car, snippy radio exchanges, and speculations from the press were only contributing to the snowball effect that was going to eventually lead to an inevitable avalanche.
as lewis’ assistant, sometimes you wondered if you knew him better than he knew himself. over the years, you had practically learned everything under the sun about the british driver. of course, when he came back from qualifying a little quieter than usual, you figured something had happened in the paddock.
you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what.
often times, the two of you joked that you acted like an old married couple the way you bickered. yet, there was nothing as hurtful or spiteful as the exchange that happened minutes ago. part of you knew that he didn’t mean it, but part of you couldn’t let it go because of his inebriated state.
sometimes drunk words were just sober thoughts.
“do you really think you don’t have to listen to me because of my status?”
“no,” his voice is small, “i don’t think that.”
“then why did you say it?”
“i d-don’t know,” you can hear his voice falter, “i-i was just upset from earlier. i usually don’t lash out like that.”
a sniffle fills your ears, his chest heaving slightly. glancing up, you notice the glimmer of a tear as it slips down his cheek, the driver’s lip trembling.
“lewis,” the notes in your tone are gentle, “is everything okay?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i-i’m sorry.”
“what’s wrong?”
“i do listen to you,” squeezing his eyes shut, he allows you to wipe away a tear, “i promise i listen to you. i don’t want you to ever feel like i don’t. i’m sorry, i’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and–”
“don’t worry about me,” tenderly, you caress his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, “i promise that i will survive. maybe you can hook me up with someone on the grid, yeah?”
“i can’t do that.”
“why not?” you arch a brow.
“because there is no one else i would want you with on that grid but me,” his eyes open, meeting yours, “i’m so upset because i hurt you. i have feelings for you, and seeing you hurt like that, it nearly split me into two.”
“lewis,” your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “i-i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“come on,” he tuts, “you know why you ended things with that guy. he was getting frustrated at how much time we were spending together. and in your heart, you know that you can’t stay away from me. the way you look at me, i know that you feel the same way. you wouldn’t learn how to do my favorite hairstyles if there wasn’t some sort of love there. you wouldn’t order my favorite food without asking if you didn’t care. you wouldn’t spend all of this time with me if you didn’t like me.”
“maybe i do, just a little bit.”
“only a little bit?” he cocks his head, “you can’t just admit you’re in love with me?”
“what if i was?”
“hmm,” he hums, his mouth only millimeters from yours, “i’d tell you i was in love with you too.”
“you would have to promise me something, though.”
“anything.”
“would you slow down a little on your lifestyle?” you inquire, slightly testing the waters to see how far you could go.
“and what does that entail?” a hand finds its way to the base of your neck, warm and comforting as a breeze rolls through.
“would you quit going to the strip clubs? driving recklessly? living the fast life?”
“if it meant that it would make you happy and secure, yes,” the words are brimmed with authenticity, “i want to make you the happiest woman on earth. i’d do anything for you.”
“would you quit tomorrow?”
���oh love,” he chuckles, “i’ll quit this instant.”
“and i’ll keep taking care of you.”
“promise?” his voice softens, “you promise you’ll stick by my side? even after i leave mercedes?”
“i promise.”
the corners of his lips curl into a smug smirk, the driver leaning in even closer.
“that only means we get to seal that promise with a kiss then, huh?”
#lewis hamilton#f1#formula 1#formula one#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x y/n#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#lewis hamilton fic#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader
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Burnt Leaves
Simon "Ghost" Riley x GNC Reader
SFW / Fluff & Comfort / No Dialogue / TW: Drug abuse mentions, mildly unhealthy coping with insomnia, one off-handed joke about dying
Summary: You deal with plenty of bullshit as is, and insomnia is just the straw threatening to break your back. You have your ways to deal with it, though. Seems like the skull masked lieutenant needs a new coping mechanism as well.
I may write more if people actually enjoy this, also i wrote this at like 3 am and i am dealing with insomnia myself, pls excuse if it sucks lmao
Being in the military was probably your best option. You weren't small or weak, you had quite a ways to go, sure, but you held your own. That's what initially impressed your training captain. You had a drive despite being depressed as shit. Which, maybe you lied to your recruiting officer. And the doctor. And your training sqaudron. But what's a little lie compared to staying in that drug den you reluctantly call home?
The harsh drills and tense, full body aching was nothing to you. Not compared to watching your mother be strung out on a stained, burned, broken couch while being left in the drug dealers care. Hell, or even when you had to help her find a dehydrated vein with a short and dull needle. Perhaps something that you considered a life saving skill, but it made you feel disgusting if you thought about it for too long.
You've been shifted around a few bases when you were needed, seeing as you were sort of an everyman. Excelled in the maintenance of weaponry, one hell of a mechanic, and maybe a few things you knew how to do that were definitely against the Geneva Convention. To be fair, though, if you had to decide between dying and using a makeshift gun that was severely out of regulation, you'd take your chances in court.
But all of this shifting around and half assed childhood you had lead to even more goddamn problems you didn't need. Often, maybe every few nights every single week, you dealt with insomnia. Bad weeks had you trying to fight the uncomfortable disorder every night, but you lucked out with having to deal with it half the time usually.
It was always so uncomfortable. The inside of your skin felt like it was covered in small pyramid-shaped cones that pressed into every nerve where there was pressure. Your eyes were heavy but never heavy enough to induce sleep. Your mind would never fog up the way it was supposed to. And it drove you absolutely crazy.
You had a few ways to deal with it, as most chronic sufferers do. Sometimes you accepted it and laid there until pure exhaustion won. Your worst option.
Most of the time, though, you'd already spent a few hours hoping, tossing and turning in restlessness before getting up. You'd lace your boots and try to walk it off. Speed up the exhaustion process manually. And it worked maybe 50 percent of the time. And you'd collapse back into your bunk, shoes still on and pillow over your head, and get just enough sleep that you wouldn't hate yourself in the morning.
And the nights that even that didn't work, you'd find yourself in the kitchenette of the rec area. You'd stare desperately at the coffee pot you were using to heat up water while you waited to choke down a bland, bitter chamomile tea. You couldn't stand tea on its own. You didn't have a sweet tooth, but you could accept when something needed a little bit of sweetness.
This often settled you down enough. The overwhelming tired made you cry in the barely lit room while your tea steeped, palms pressed into your burning eyes as you wished you'd just fucking sleep. And you'd stop. You'd drink your tea. And get enough sleep to function.
And you fell into this pattern and habit.
Until this one mother fucker.
See, you ended up being called in to aid in the upkeep up vehicles and guns at a fairly large base that served as home grounds to plenty of "real soliders". You didn't pay mind to many of them, but Captain Price's team at least treated you decently since you were the one making sure their guns jammed significantly less. However, Ghost creeped you the fuck out.
That teams lieutenant was horrifying to you. He stood way too tall, was way too broad to move that fucking quietly. He held this awful aura to him that was completely unreadable. And he barely ever spoke to you in a way that didn't feel like a back handed... well, you wouldn't even call them compliments. The man would stare more often than breathe, just watch you move about your job from the doorways and wait for you to notice he was there before declaring that he would have been able to kill you six different ways by that point. You've been able to get that number down to four, at least.
And for some reason. This also included your overstimulated and tired crying time at the coffee pot at 2 a.m. as well. It seemed like it was his third time just watching you when he spoke up for the first time, mostly just asking what the hell you were doing. You'd jump out of your skin, a blessing of a feeling if it didn't shoot unnerving shivers down your spine, and stammer out a half coherent response about tea leaves. And then he just... stood there. Watching you drink your tea and then leave after you were done.
At some point during this routine, he'd started to invite himself to sit across from you at the small table. He never really struck up conversations, though you swore you could see amusement in his eye as you made faces at the bitter tea. He knew you were burning the leaves, but he couldn't tell you that. Listening to another person rip into him about being British was very low on his to-do list.
This became comfortable. You began to tolerate his shadow-like presence. Maybe even enjoyed the silent company. You could guess that he was suffering the same just from how tired his eyes looked past the mask. Maybe he too found solace in a shared solidarity that you two really haven't expressed. It was bittersweet. Two barely functioning and sleep deprived people finding a space to relax, lit only by a half burnt out overhead lamp. Maybe, even if a bit selfishly, you had begun to go a little morr often judt for the company of a man you didn't know the actual name of.
Ghost never left before you, but only arrived after you began heating some water. He never had a cup himself, sat himself in the same chair, and limited himself to a handful of yrs or no questions a night. You didn't mind.
But he once again found a way to disrupt this routine.
You were reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet above you, your other hand grabbing the coffee pot of hot water. You heard him move, which honestly should have been your que to turn around, and you felt him standing directly behind you. He covered your hand on the handle with his much larger one and practically forced you to let him grab the pot. He grabbed two mugs and moved off to the side, only meeting your eyes when you didn't move.
What ever fucking compelled him to do that, you had no idea. You were staring with bloodshot eyes and still even had your hand vaguely where the pot was. He simply nodded his head to the table and turned back to the mugs.
Guess you weren't making your tea? Deep down, thr angsty teen part of you hoped it was the forever sleep kind of deal. But that was dumb, so you shook your head a little to ignore that.
Ghost set your mug down on the table before sitting himself across from you, lifting his mask up enough to take a drink.
You've yet to see him do that, so your brain was just kind of off at this point. You stared, not that you meant to, as the man replaced his mask and set his mug down, staring back at you with a quirked brow. You looked down in a daz3 before grabbing your own mug, taking a long sip. Did he make a different kind of tea? Why the hell did it taste so... so much better? Your confusion actually earned you a small laugh from the other, a quiet, muffled chuckle from under his mask. That shouldn't have given you butterflies. He still scared you, after all.
He never explained himself, but from then on, you left the tea making duties to him and he didn't seem to mind. You fell into the pattern of getting there before your insomnia got into full swing every night, starting the water and getting the mugs. Then your midnight partner would show up and handle the rest.
As much as the mask gave you the creeps, it was growing on you. Like the previously bitter tea.
#crowwrites#uh yeah i kimda wanna write more and post my drabbles here#do with it what you will#idk if ill be taking requests yet#but im gonna hopefuly be writing more for a ton of stuff#maybe one dayy ill put this stuff on ao3 too#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod ghost#cod simon riley#cod simon ghost riley#x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#no dialogue#tw: drugs#cod fluff#call of duty#cod modern warfare#cod mw2
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life is bad and i’m filled with rage
#bumbles (bee mumbles)#i’m thinking about my dad and my grandparents and extended family#how all of them knew we were being abused neglected and did fucking less than nothing#how my grandpa was supposed to be providing financial support and we only learned after he passed away that he ignored my grandmas will#i just keep thinking over and over as i’m struggling with my life emotionally and financially#like things could have been better if there had just been… a a small amount of kindness#or ppl actually doing their jobs#it doesn’t even have to do with how bad things are right now#but sometimes i get so fucking bitter about how things could have been#i keep thinking how much i wish my parents hadn’t had so many kids#how i wish i had never been born#that there was no reason i was born#that i’m just another fucking piece of trash in a hoarders collection#that i’m loved more as a possession than a child#idk why i’m here#i didn’t ask for this#i’m so angry and sad#i feel like every time i stand up someone pulls the rug out from under me and gets pissed that i lost my balance
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A Fighting Chance
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
Part 2, Masterlist,
"What're those?"
"Papers."
Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.
The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.
It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.
There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.
But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.
He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"
"I want a divorce."
And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.
"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.
Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."
"I did. I won't sign them."
"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.
"I don't."
She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.
"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."
"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.
Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.
When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.
"Why?"
Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.
"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.
"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"
Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.
"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.
"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."
It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.
"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.
He's about to lose her.
Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.
It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.
"I don't think you do."
Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.
Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.
"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.
If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.
"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."
She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."
"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"
"Simon-"
"A week."
"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"
"One week."
She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.
"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."
"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.
"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.
Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.
When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?
Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.
He takes her in quietly for a moment.
The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.
Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.
A right fucking bastard he was for it.
"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"
For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.
But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.
And it's all he needs.
A fighting chance.
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Part 2
(11/10/2023)
#ghost cod#cod mw ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost modern warfare#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost x reader#cod ghost#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare x reader#angst#x reader#x y/n#fluff#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare ii#modern warfare#cod modern warfare#modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii
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LIVES CHANGED
Part II: Things do Change
8.9k words
Warnings: Angst, Eddie being dumb, past Eddie x reader, mom!reader x dad! eddie munson
main masterlist
Series Masterlist
chapter 1
AN: I am so sorry for the wait, I had this whole plan to release this fic along with a reader only fic of her life after Eddie left but I made the stupid decision to apply for summer college courses thinking it would be easy LOL IM DUMB. Though the first week of classes passed and I have got it under control now. Though classes might slow down this series so bear with me, but I have planned about 5-6 parts for the series so stay tuned.
I hope you enjoy this series, and this part.
Eddie breathed a deep sigh as he rolled over, trying to catch his breath, sweat beading down his head. He stared at the ceiling, feeling sticky and dirty. He turned, reaching for the side table grabbing his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips and lighting it. Blonde hair appeared over him, a manicured hand settling over his chest.
“Down for another round?” the sultry voice said, leaning over Eddie, resting her body against his chest. Taking the cigarette from between his lips and taking a hit for herself.
He stared at her for a second, “Can’t, Honey. Gotta meet the boys”
She pouted and leaned over to kiss him, before handing him back the cigarette before hoping off him going to collect her clothes. Eddie got up, putting out the cigarette and picking up his clothes, already planning a hot shower for when he arrived home.
“Well I had fun. We should do this again sometime” She asked from her place behind him, Eddie’s back was turned to her, slipping on his jeans.
“Maybe… I-I don’t know” Eddie mumbled, it was low but it was enough for her to hear him. She laughed but it wasn’t bitter but as if she expected this.
“Y’know this is why they call you Man-Whore Munson” She grabbed her bag and moved in front of him, as he buttoned his pants.
“Jules I-” Eddie started, an apology on his tongue when Jules held up her red manicured finger telling him to stop and shut up.
“Don’t start with me Eddie, I knew what this was. Like I said, you are known as Man-Whore Munson, I didn’t expect you to drop down on a knee and propose after a few fucks” He winced at the vulgarity, he knew that’s what the truth of it was but even after all the late nights he had, he hated facing the reality of it. Of the life he had chosen for himself.
“Just let me say, from one slut to another” Jules started without an air of care.
“You're not a slut, Jules” Eddie tried having known Jules for awhile, as she had been a groupie in his second world tour mostly joining because she hoped to catch Jeff’s attention. Which poor oblivious Jeff never caught on to which inevitably left her to seek refuge in Eddie’s bed.
“Shut it Munson, there’s no need to feel bad. Your a good fuck and a decent guy. But as I was saying, I do this because I want to, I have fun. You however seem like a kicked puppy after every fuck, it’s depressing and to be honest, it’s quite a turn off” She said with her usual amount of sass.
“Well that’s something every guy wants to hear” Eddie replied, in annoyance hoping to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.
“All I’m saying is work your shit out. This life ain’t for everyone.” She shrugged, grabbing her bag, kissing him on the cheek, her red lips staining his cheek as she strutted her way out of the room.
As she opened the door, she stopped turning back for a second “Or you could do all of us and yourself a favor and go back to the one”
“How are you so sure I have met the one?” Rolled his eyes, trying to prevent the ache in his heart at the thought.
“Oh hope off it Munson. With guys like you, there is always the one” She smirked, noticing the look on Eddie’s face. “See you later” she shouted, shutting the door behind her.
Leaving Eddie alone in the smoky, dingy motel room, her words lingering in his head. He thought about the one. You.
Memories of your laughter echoed in his mind, you and him sipping milkshakes, giggling at his dramatic displays of affection, the soft whines and moans you let him pull out of you. Eddie caught him smiling to himself for a second before the worst memory of all entered his mind, attacking and killing all the rest.
Your heartbroken face, eyes red rimmed with tears streaming down, then you getting in your car and driving away from him. He shook his head and proceeded to put on his shirt, gathering his leather jacket and making his way out.
Stardom had been everything he had expected it to be. Late nights, crazy concerts, lots and lots of drugs and beautiful women throwing themselves at him. He was living his dream, but there was something in Eddie that never was able to enjoy it.
No matter how many drugs he ingested or how many women he took to bed, nothing made him forget about you. About your sweetness, about how it felt to have you in his arms or how it felt to laugh with you, how it felt to be in you, or how devastating it felt to see you heartbroken and know he was the cause of it.
The days after the break up Eddie had put on a front, focusing all his energy and mind into his new life, the dream he had chosen over you. He had to, because if this life. The life he had chosen over a simple quiet one with you turned into another failure in Eddie Munson’s life he would never have been able to forgive himself. The funny thing was, everything turned out to be wonderful.
Corroded Coffin’s first album was a hit, one song landing on the top ten and playing on MTV. To be fair the first few months were quite a blur, he had been grieving all he left behind in Hawkins. Eddie hadn’t expected to miss the small town so much, but his break up with you had hit harder once he had arrived in LA.
He had tried so many drugs that year, he could barely remember their first national tour. Then the amount of women that had wanted a taste of the lead singer, Jules was probably right about the nickname he was given because Eddie Munson indeed became a Man Whore. Screwing almost every groupie or model that looked his way.
Then came Corroded Coffin’s second album which only solidified the band's status in LA and in the music world. Eddie had eased up on the drugs but still had his fair share at parties and an occasional joint during band practice. After that he became more selective of his female conquests, trying to avoid any woman that even reminded him of you.
Which wasn’t particularly hard, you were one in a million.
The band mates had called him out on his proclivities which had irritated him, he hated facing the reality of his love life because if he faced reality, he would have to face that there would never be another you. That you were out of his life indefinitely, he could handle the break up but to face the painful fact that he would one day fall in love with someone else or that you already had. Eddie couldn’t handle that, it hurt too much, to think that it was all truly over. Along with the fact that, it was entirely his fault.
Gareth had reminded him of the fact consistently which had led to countless fights between the two, always claiming that if it weren’t for you, Corroded Coffin wouldn’t be where they were at. That you should be with them instead of Jules or Lila or Janice or any of the numbers of women Eddie had invited into their tour bus.
Eddie knew Gareth was right but he couldn’t face it, could never face the truth, or the choice he had made. He should’ve ran to you, invited you along. Or he could have just stayed.
Though that was all in the past now, Eddie was here in the present and in the present he would shack up with Jules or Lila or Janice until any memory of you was pushed to the back of his mind.
Now on their third world tour, Corroded Coffin was currently staying in some motel room in Philadelphia. He had sprung for a motel room, not wanting to hear all the complaints that Jeff, Gareth and Doug would have for him. He was fully prepared to walk onto the tour bus and see Jeff’s judgemental gaze and hear an insult flying from Gareth’s mouth but it never came.
When he fully entered the bus, he could see Jeff on the phone, a lone tear falling from his eyes as Doug sat beside him, patting him on the back in comfort. Both Gareth and Doug looked at Jeff with pity and sadness in their eyes as well.
“Aye What-What Happened?” Eddie whispered softly in panic not wanting to interrupt whatever terrible phone call Jeff had received early in the morning.
Gareth turned to him, voice soft as well “Jeff’s dad died early this morning, they said it was a stroke”
Gareth’s voice wavered slightly delivering the news, and Eddie felt like he had received a punch in the gut. Jeff’s father had been like a third father to Eddie (After Wayne of course) always encouraging the boys to keep pursuing their dreams, he even helped Eddie fix up the van and taught him how to change a tire.
The boys had stayed silent as Jeff finished his somber phone call with his grieving mother, more tears tracked down Jeff’s face. He sat silent for a second, trying to find the words to say, but only four words came from his mouth. Four words that while Eddie understood were probably the last words Eddie had wanted to hear that morning.
“We gotta go home”
Three knocks rapped against your front door.
“I’ll be right there” You shouted from inside the bathroom. Your eyes scanned the version of you in the mirror, looking for anything out of place. You adjusted your dress once more before running out the bathroom, you turned to look at the clock on the wall. You were a little behind schedule but being behind schedule has become your new normal in the past six years.
You swung open the door, smiling at the older man on the other side. “Wayne” you breathed out “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice” You moved to the side letting the man into your home.
“Oh don’t worry about it, Darling. You know I can never stop myself from saying no to you” Wayne said sweetly. You could only smile back at the man you had known since you were fifteen.
You could feel his gaze on you, scanning your new hair do and freshly applied makeup that you had spent hours on.
“You look wonderful, Darling. First anniversary is it? getting real serious ain’t it?” Wayne asked, eyebrows raised in question. Though you could hear the teasing tone in his voice. You didn’t much like talking about your love life with anyone, especially Wayne but it was hard to keep it a secret when he frequented your life so often.
“I don’t know about that. H-He’s nice” you shrugged trying to hide the pink coloring your cheeks, twiddling with your fingers out of nervousness.
“Well you deserve nice, darling, and don’t worry on about me. I don’t tell that boy nothin” Wayne replied his voice turning sour as he said the last half, and an old ache settled in your chest.
“Thank you Wayne but you don’t need to be so angry on my account” You pleaded with him knowing that while he still loved and cared for his nephew, even he held the same amount of resentment at the boy as you did.
“I will be as angry as I like. Only a fool could ever let a gal like you go. Now let me and Miss Izzy be on our way. We don’t wanna keep lover boy waiting” He winked at you but also reminded you of how late you already were for your plans.
“Right. Izzy! Sweetie, Grandpa Wayne is here” You shouted before turning back to the older man, only a few seconds passed before you could hear the light steps of a small child running on the wood floors.
“GRAMPA WAYNE” The young girl yelled as she ran towards Wayne. A red and black stuffed bunny hanging from her fingers as jumped into the older man's arms. Him picking her up and raising her to the sky without a care to his own health.
“Izzy, what did I say about running to Grandpa Wayne like that? You're gonna hurt him” You scolded your five year old daughter.
“I’m sowwy, Grampa” The small girl said toward Wayne. Her eyes wide pleading for forgiveness, showcasing the same dramatics she could have only received from her father. Though while she bared a striking resemblance to your childhood self, there was no denying who her father was. Isabel was her father’s daughter, both in looks but in personality.
“Oh, it’s alright, Sweets. I’ll carry you and throw you until my back snaps in two” he said to the five year old, her giggling at his words.
“Again, thank you so much Wayne. My mom was supposed to babysit but she just came down with the flu. I can pay you if you’d like?” You explained, you didn’t mind Wayne babysitting your daughter as he had been there for the two of you since the day his nephew had left Hawkins. Though there was a small part of you that hated asking him for too much.
“Like I said Darling, no need to thank me. Spending anytime with my sweet grandbaby is enough payment.” He said lightly tickling the girl in his arms, her laughter spreading delight in the small house.
“You look pwetty mommy” She said, turning in her grandfather’s arms to touch your powdered face with her small fingers.
“Thank you Darling” You beamed and took a step closer, “Okay Sweet Pea, You will be spending the night with Grandpa Wayne but I will be bright and early to pick you up okay?” You explained adjusting the sweater around her torso, making sure she would be safe in the cold air.
Your daughter nodded her head, wrapping her arms around your neck from her place in Wayne’s arms “Otay Mommy” She replied, her little fingers getting stuck in your hair and probably messing up the hairstyle you spent 40 minutes on.
“Be very good for Grandpa Wayne and when I pick you up we can go for pancakes. How does that sound?”
The girl's eyes went wide with excitement as she began wiggling in her Grandfather’s hold, “Can we get a milkshake too?” she asked eyes pleading to you. You giggled at your daughters face, you could never say no to her.
“Of course, sweet pea but you got to be good for Wayne”
“I will be so so good. I promith” The young girl replied, you only smiled back at her, a moment of guilt filled you not wanting to leave your sweet girl. Though you couldn't deny the excitement in your gut for the night.
Wayne and Izzy made their way out the door, before driving off to spend the night at Wayne’s trailer. You composed yourself, fixing your hair from the mess your daughter had made before grabbing your purse and meeting the man who was currently waiting patiently for you.
“You look beautiful” He said, a twinkle in his eyes as they surveyed your face and your body.
You felt yourself blush, it had been a long time since someone had looked at you with such hungry eyes. Though now after a year of dating, you supposed it should’ve felt casual, normal but a small part of you still wanted to shrink into yourself, to run away. Though your mothers words rang in your head.
“You can’t hide away forever. You are hot stuff, you gotta move on with your life eventually”
So instead of instantly running away, you accepted the compliment and thanked the man in front of you. You had met him at a bar when you went out for your co-worker Steve's birthday. You had walked outside to call your mom to check in on Izzy. (and to avoid the music blaring inside the bar.)
When the man with chocolate brown hair, and a gray suit with his tie undone walked up to you. He had flirted with you unashamedly and then bought you a drink. When the night was over you had danced twice and he had slipped you a card with his name and number on it.
‘Adam Linden, Hawkins Post Journalist’
(260) - 555- 6784
You were wary of putting your heart out there again, though the feelings he gave you, were so refreshing. You hadn’t realized how in need of affection you were until you were being showered in it. You didn’t want to give love a try after Izzy’s father left. You spent the first three years focused solely on school and motherhood showering a baby Izzy with all the love and affection of two parents, while receiving very little for yourself.
You had gone on a date with Steve Harrington, but that only made you realize that you and him wouldn’t work out, mostly because Izzy’s father had left you distrustful and insecure. After that, you mostly avoided dating, not wanting the judgment that came with you being a single mother, or the fear of having your heart broken.
But when one Adam Linden strolled up to you, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a promise to buy you a drink, absent from any music or memory of a man from the past.
You wouldn’t deny, you were not completely comfortable, your dates with a certain Munson boy were always relaxed. Pizza dinners, movies, Bob’s diner whereas dates with Adam were five star restaurants and office parties. Though Adam seemed entirely interested in you, and it felt good. To be desired, to be wanted. The change of relationship was daunting, but every date you had with Adam there was a flicker of the dream you let go of. The dream of a true family, with a loving husband and children running underfoot.
Adam was a perfect choice to fulfill your dreams, he was kind, understanding, and had a stable job. He wasn’t the kind of man to run away from you for a better job, he would take you with him, buy you a house with a white picket fence. You would be content, and your Izzy would have a father.
When you were younger it was an image of a perfect home with you baking cookies with two kids, a husband with his hair pulled up and into a bun, with a few curls hanging loose. Him putting on a vinyl as he came to dance with one of the children, stealing a bite of the cookie dough. A perfect husband and two faceless, nameless children.
The dream was different now though, one of the children wasn't faceless or nameless, She was a bright bubbly little girl named Isabel who enjoyed dragons and princesses, who had the wildest curls and the biggest brown eyes. Who was born with all the confidence you lacked but matched you in curiosity, who was too dramatic for her own good. You could see her with another little sister or brother, being careful as she taught them how to properly mix the pancake batter or there could be an oopsie. Now the picture of your husband was different, he probably wouldn’t worry about playing music or stealing cookie dough. You could picture Adam there with you, he probably would be the kind of man to sit at the table and read the newspaper with his coffee, or maybe he would be at work, or maybe he would be right by your side helping the children?
“Babe?” Adam asked, your mind returned to the present. Your hand on a wine glass, and a half-finished grilled salmon on your plate. Adam had his brows furrowed looking at you.
“Sorry, today was tiring. I zoned out a bit, what were you saying?” You gave a tired trying smile after you explained. Your mind returns back to the present, to the man in front of you.
He smiled softly at you, he opened his mouth to say something but quickly stopped when the waiter came to collect your plates, sliding a piece of chocolate cake in front of you.
“I didn’t order this” You spoke to the waiter.
“I did, babe. I know you love chocolate cake” You blushed at the gesture; you wouldn’t say it was your absolute favorite, but the thought is what counted.
“Thank You, Adam. I do love some cake” You tried to joke but it seemed to fall on deaf ears with only Adam looking at you intently with a sort of look that made you want to run for the hills.
When you grabbed your fork, you moved the plate slightly for a better cut. That is when you noticed the shimmering jewelry hidden by the pastry. You turned the plate fully to reveal a glittering diamond ring sat next to the chocolate cake. Staring at you, asking a question.
You felt absolutely sick at the sight, but when the man before you stood up from his seat and kneeled before you. A hopeful look in his eyes, and lovely words spouting from his mouth, the looks of dozens of curious restaurant guests staring at you.
The dream flickered once more, so instead of running from fear. You accepted it.
“Yes, i’ll— I would be delighted to marry you”
Eddie’s car pulled up to the trailer. It had been almost six years since had been back, not wanting to return to his one pony town but the worst crises do bring people back together.
Eddie hadn’t felt nerves like this since his first real concert in LA but this was much worse. He wasn’t nervous at all when he was on the plane but that could’ve been because of all the whiskey he had decided to drink before taking flight.
Walking up the steps of his home and knocking on the trailer door like he was a stranger, made Eddie feel homesick for the first time in years. When the door opened, the air of home filled his senses, not only the smell of his trailer which arguably was just old furniture and cigarette smoke but it also was the sight of the man who raised him. Wayne.
“Wayne” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the man in front of him. He had spent so many years in La La Land running from reality, living in some parallel universe but he was finally here. It was unfortunate that it took the death of one Mathew Davis to bring him back to earth but Eddie was back home.
While Eddie was on the plane, drunk out of his mind, watching a grieving Jeff cry over his father, Eddie felt fear. That maybe he would return home, and find everything different and that he could be in Jeff’s position. Grieving over someone he left behind, but here was Wayne Munson, seemingly healthy but undeniably alive and still in his trailer.
Like nothing had changed.
“Eddie” Wayne smiled for half a second before bringing Eddie into his arms, hugging the boy who was a son to him. As swiftly as Wayne hugged him, he let go and folded his arms back to himself. A stern look settled in his face, like a wall being put up. Eddie felt something change, like he was about to be scolded for the first time in six years, Eddie stood awkwardly beneath the harsh stare of Wayne Munson.
“So are you gonna let me in?” Eddie asked after a few seconds. Wayne, still silent, backed up, and moved to the side, letting Eddie into the trailer.
Eddie surveyed his surroundings, everything was practically the same. There were some appliances that were changed out like the tv and the microwave, most likely bought from the money Eddie would send Wayne sometimes. Though the old couch that had cigarette burns was all the same. It was simply an old couch that many even Eddie would talk crap upon but Eddie could only feel happy at the sight of it. A wave of memories filled Eddie’s mind as he took in the sight of the old grandma couch and the smell of stale air.
His first night with Wayne after his mom left, A young small Eddie laying on the couch, finally asleep with dried tears on his face while Wayne covered him with a blanket.
Then at age 12, sitting on the couch with the coffee table moved to be right in front of him while the boys sat on the carpet surrounding him. It was his first D&D game as a dungeon master.
You and him at 15, making out on the couch, you on top then him on top, limbed intertwined. You and him at 16, cuddling and eating popcorn as Wayne sat on his usual chair, watching horror movies, with temporary smiles on all of your faces.
Eddie stepped forward and sat on the couch, the cushion sinking in from the weight. His fingers grazed the side of the couch, but a bright shade of red caught his sight. Slightly poking out from underneath one of the pillows. Curiosity getting the best of him, Eddie reached and plucked out what seemed to be a red and black stuffed bunny.
“Wayne, What the hell is this?” Eddie held up the stuffed animal with a few fingers showcasing it but Wayne quickly tore it from his fingers, as if Eddie had accidentally grabbed Wayne’s favorite pair of underwear.
Eddie was confused by the sight of the stuffed animal in what was supposed to be a childless old man's home, but Eddie became even more put off by the fact that Wayne adjusted the bunny in his hands before setting it gently down next to the television as if it was some prized jewel. Eddie stared at Wayne with a look that begged him to explain his odd behavior along with the strange discovery.
“It’s a gift for the Byers” Wayne explained but even after years apart, Eddie knew there was something off about Wayne.
“The Byers?” Eddie titled his head in question, unbelieving of the explanation.
“Yes, Joyce Byers was telling me that Jonathan and his wife, Nancy, finally got pregnant. So i bought this as a gift” Eddie didn’t fully buy the explanation as last he remembered Jonathan Byers couldn’t even talk to a girl, let alone Nancy Wheeler, but it had been a long time. The same thing could have been said about him once. Though even with that explanation Eddie was still unsure, or maybe he was still hungover from the bottle he drank before getting on the plane to Hawkins.
“Oh good for them then” Eddie smiled his usual smile but Wayne didn’t smile, or laugh or give him a funny remark, simply stared as if he was sizing him up. Eddie shrank into himself like he was fourteen again getting caught for stealing one of Wayne’s beers. Wayne sighed, and shook his head softly, preparing for the talk ahead.
“What are you doing here, Ed?” sitting down next to Eddie with a face full of contempt.
“Jeff’s dad died. Didn’t you hear?” Eddie didn’t understand Wayne’s reaction, Eddie didn’t expect a party but he half expected Wayne to be happy to see him. Though now it seemed like he wanted nothing more than Eddie out of his house.
The distance between Eddie and Wayne now, with them in the same room seated on the same couch felt far greater than it did when they were 2,000 miles apart. Eddie knew some people in town wouldn’t be too excited to see him but he never anticipated Wayne’s reaction to be this cold.
“I know that, prolly knew before you did. So that’s why you're here, for the funeral and then you're off again?”
Eddie sighed, taking a look around the trailer, everywhere but at the older man. He knew why Wayne was upset now, it almost felt like deja vu for Eddie. It was his breakup with you all over again. Like you, Wayne seemed to be angry that Eddie followed his dreams, was able to get out of shithole Hawkins. It irritated Eddie, he had made it big but just like you, and Gareth and the rest of the boys, Wayne only seemed to care for Eddie’s failures more than his triumphs.
“I don’t know why you make it seem so bad. I’m a rockstar Wayne” Eddie tried to reason with the older man but Wayne just let out a disbelieving scoff.
“So I've heard. You're a rock star when it’s a holiday, when it’s a birthday, when you have a girl crying to you. You’re always a rock star” Wayne stood up from the couch and took a few steps away as if he couldn’t stand to be near his nephew in those moments.
Eddie tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at the mention of you, but he only scoffed and directed any of his guilty feelings back at Wayne. “You didn’t seem to complain about me being a rock star when you needed a new tv, or you hurt your hand at work and needed to pay the bill. You're just mad I actually got out of this shithole unlike you” the venomous words fell out of Eddie’s mouth and there was no taking them back.
Once again, Eddie Munson stood in his place in this trailer saying things he did not mean to someone who meant the world to him. Eddie had regretted the things he said to you the second he said them, and once again he felt the familiar regret seep into his body and make his heart ache and his throat thick. Just like before, he didn’t try to apologize, and simply sat there, dumbfounded by his own words.
Wayne seemed unfazed, almost predicting this of his nephew. If the words did hurt, Wayne didn’t let it show. Though his disappointment in the boy in front of him was clear as day, practically emanating off his stoic form.
Wayne shook his head in disbelief “I always knew you were thick in the head, boy, but I thought I had raised you to be better than this. I ain't mad that you made it, I'm proud that you got out of this shithole. I’m just mad that you never came home, not once did you look back. I was waiting for you to. if i had known that someone dying would’ve brought you home, i would’ve died years ago.”
The words hit Eddie harder, another shot hitting his heart as an ache grew all over his chest, and like blood a new found guilt seeped into his body. Eddie’s anger deflated as he simply watched as Wayne began to move around the trailer seeming to collect things. Eddie had no words for Wayne, not knowing what to say or what he could say to fix things. Eddie didn’t think there was anything that could make up for how he made Wayne feel.
“Wayne” Eddie tried but Wayne didn’t seem to care what he had to say. Lifting up a hand as he put on a jacket and slung a lunch bag decorated in a few stickers over his shoulder.
“It doesn't matter, Eds. Your home now, just don’t drink any of my beers and we’ll be fine until you go” Wayne sounded tired, but he only moved toward the door trying to get away from his nephew. Eddie stood up as if he was gonna follow him but he didn't move from his place or say a word, frozen. “I gotta go to work. I’ll see you later”
“Work? What happened to your night shifts?” Eddie asked, the question was genuine as Eddie had only ever known Wayne to work night shifts, but Eddie also knew it was just an excuse to keep Wayne around just a little bit longer. To try and find the words to fix what he had destroyed.
“Things change.” Wayne said dejectedly, opening the door to try to leave but as if Eddie’s time was running out he asked one more thing abruptly. Eddie didn’t know why he asked, why it was the first thing to fall from his lips, he just knew he needed to know before Wayne left for work.
“Wait. Wayne, before you go. Can I-I— Do you- Um do you know if she still lives around here? Or anything about her?” Eddie asked with a pleading look in his eyes, he didn’t even know if he wanted to know. What if you were terrible, unhappy and alone without him? Or what if it was the opposite, what if you were perfectly happy and even better without him? He wasn’t sure which he preferred, they both made him want to cry.
Wayne stopped and turned around to look at Eddie, this time all the stoicness of Wayne Munson left and only a look of disappointment and resentment showed clear on his face.
“I may have sat on that couch waiting for you to come home, but that doesn't mean she did. Not all of us can wait six years. Like I said, things change, Eddie”
Yeah, Eddie Munson was starting to get that.
Eddie had stood in his place for longer than he wanted to admit, after the exchange he had with Wayne he didn’t know what to do. He also hadn’t been home for years, he couldn’t just go back to smoking in his room or playing his guitar. He couldn’t hang with the boys as they were all probably hanging out with their own families, most likely having a better welcome home than Eddie had received. They actually visited their families in the past six years.
Eddie walked around the trailer mindlessly, smiling at the memories but frowning at all the changes in his family home. The tv, the microwave, the ripped stitch in Wayne’s old chair had been fixed, there was no longer a dinner chair that rocked because it was uneven. It had all been replaced.
Eddie’s eyes stopped when he reached the refrigerator seeing a drawing. It wasn’t the best drawing clearly drawn by a child, it was all stick figures. One was a stick figure of a man with three hairs coming out of his head, Eddie let out a chuckle when he read the name above the figure.
‘Wayne’
What confused Eddie were the other two figures, one of a young girl with their loops on her head, she wore a red dress and was holding on to the stick figure of Wayne and another stick figure of a woman with a blue dress. The words ‘Izzy’ and ‘mommy’ written over their heads.
Eddie looked back to the red and black bunny that sat proper next to the television. Did Wayne have a lady friend that he never told him about? Eddie thought to himself.
Eddie was unsure of his idea, but he hoped it might be true. It would mean Wayne wasn’t alone all these years. Eddie chose to ignore the drawing for now, hoping to question Wayne for answers when he got home. He was about to reach inside for a beer when he remembered Wayne’s words not to drink any of his beers. Usually, Eddie would have ignored the request, and simply would have taken one and laughed it off later when Wayne would scold him, but that was a long time ago. Wayne was never this angry at Eddie before, he didn’t want to push it, especially if he had a chance to make it better.
So Eddie closed the refrigerator door, and reached for his rental car keys in his pocket. Melvalds would still be around, while things were sure different now. There was no chance Hawkins would get rid of one of its only few stores, there had to be a place for all these people to get a pack of cigarettes and beers.
Eddie was about to be on his way when the phone rang, like if he was a teenager once again Eddie reached for the phone answering in his usual jokingly manner “Munson Residence”
The line was silent. “Hello?” Eddie asked but no answer, the line then quickly cut off before Eddie had the chance to ask if anyone was there. Eddie waited for a few seconds, maybe it was a bad line and they would call again but nothing.
Eddie shook off the interaction making his way out of the door, back to his previous plans.
After the proposal, you felt as if you were in a daze, far from reality. You had heard from some of your friends that the prospect of getting married was ‘an unreal experience’ though you were unsure if this is what they meant. When you went to pick up Izzy from Wayne’s that night, you hadn’t said anything, you even took off the bright engagement ring from your finger for those few minutes.
You didn’t not want to get married but thought you should at least feel overjoyed. Now in this moment though, as you had a half eaten plate of waffles and fruit in front of you, you knew you had to talk to your favorite person. Who was currently sitting right in front of you, with a sticky face from all the syrup of her pancakes, who was currently begging for the milkshake she was promised.
“Once you are finished with your food, I will order the shake. Just eat now, sweet pea” You explained softly, but as you watched as the little girl stuffed her face with another giant bite of food. You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your lips at the sight
“Okay maybe eat a little slower” You leaned forward to wipe her face with a napkin, feeling slightly lighter now that you looked at her.
Izzy was the light of your life for the past six years, your reason for getting up in the morning, the reason you could smile in the darkest of moments. Even before she was born she helped you get through your first heartbreak and even after she was born, you knew you could never love anything as much.You wanted her to be as happy as she made you, everything you did was for her. Which is probably why this conversation was so hard to start.You knew she wouldn’t mind a father but would she like having Adam as her father?
You were unsure how to approach the conversation with someone so young. This wasn’t just a life change for you but for her as well. Izzy had met Adam before but only a few times, and you still didn’t know how she felt about ‘mommy’s friend’.
You had been hesitant for a while for Izzy to meet Adam, he had known you were a mother but you feared actually meeting her would change everything, especially if Izzy didn’t like him. It wasn’t until the 10th date that he had briefly met Izzy, he had greeted her when he was picking you up for a date. He had brought you a bouquet of flowers that Izzy had just loved.
So the second time had been a much more formal greeting, where he had introduced himself, giving her a much smaller bouquet of flowers asking her if he could take her mommy out for dinner. The girl too mesmerized by the flowers said yes but you could tell she was a bit reluctant to see you go with the man she barely knew. The few other times the three of you had time together was when he had breakfast with you and Izzy one morning after he and you spent the night together. Izzy had never been a shy child but she seemed to become one around Adam, never speaking to him directly. She seemed to grow more comfortable after the three of you went out one night for his annual family christmas party. Though it was more likely to have to do with Adam’s family dog than Adam himself.
“So sweet pea, you know mommy’s friend Adam right?” You broached delicately, moving to sit closer to her in the diner booth.
She hummed but didn’t seem to pay attention to you, only focusing on finishing her pancakes. “He smells funny,” she said absentmindedly, finishing a bite. You chuckled lightly, understanding she meant Adam’s love and slight overuse of cologne.
“Yes he does smell funny” You agreed before broaching the subject. “Ho-How would you feel if Adam was around a little more?” You tried to read your daughter’s face but you weren’t even sure she would understand what you meant.
She tilted her head in thought, her lips pursing to the side deep in thought. “Like Grandpa Wayne?” She asked before eating her final piece of pancake.
You let out a fake awkward laugh “No no, sweet pea. More like a daddy” You cringed as you spoke the words, your body stiffening in preparation for her response. Your daughter looked at you surprised, you tried to smile but you were definitely not expecting what she would do next. She laughed.
“You so silly mommy. Adam don’t look like daddy” She only giggled and looked at you in disbelief, to say you were confused was a little to say the least. You tried to laugh with her but you were still unsure of what she meant.
“What do you mean sweet pea?” You asked leaning closer to her as she stared at you with a smile, her fingers moving her hair away, something you noticed, knowing she would have to take a bath later.
“Daddies got long hair, curly like mine. I remember. Adam don’t have that. He has short hair.” She explained as if it was the most obvious thing but it only made your chest ache.
You understood now, she was talking to her about her real father and now you knew she was confused because of you. You had mistakenly shown Izzy a photo of her father and you from highschool.
It was after her first week of school, she had come home crying that everyone else had ‘daddies’ but she only had a ‘mommy’ which is when you explained to her that her daddy was ‘far away’ and showed her the photo. It was of you both at seventeen in Hellfire shirts, his arms wrapped around your middle from behind as you looked up at him, dazed and in love and he looked at the camera, smiling. Ironic.
“Well I- Iz. Your daddy– He–. Remember when I said that daddy was far away. He is still away, and Adam H-He is right here. He would be like a new daddy? ” Your voice broke slightly as you explained, admittedly it was probably a bad explanation but you didn’t know how to.When it came to your dad your mom only told you that he was in the sky, and you never had asked for her to elaborate but you came to understand what that meant with age.
Izzy only stared at you with a confused expression, her lips pursed once again. You could tell she didn’t fully understand what you meant by ‘away’ but she didn’t need to understand that her father was away because he didn’t want her or you. You barely understood yourself.
“But what if daddy comes back from twip” She tilted her head in question once again, she was only asking a genuine question in her mind. Though she didn’t understand how much she was breaking your heart. After you had initially told Izzy about her father and him being ‘Away’ she seemed to chipper up and became indifferent, but now you knew. She wasn’t indifferent because she stopped caring about having a father, she was still waiting for him to come back.
You were now in Bob’s diner on the verge of tears, how were you supposed to explain it to her without hurting her feelings.Before you could find the right words, Izzy interrupted you.
“I fink I forgot Ozzy, mommy”
This caught you off guard, you had been so wrapped off in your thoughts and post-proposal daze that you hadn't even noticed that the bright red bunny that Izzy had humorously named Ozzy was not attached to her or anywhere in sight. “Did you leave it at Grandpa Wayne’s?”
“ I fink so” She said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. You looked at the clock on the diner wall, Wayne wouldn’t start work for a few minutes, maybe he could drop it off on his way? You thought to yourself.
“Can I have my milkshake now?” Izzy, her eyes wide as she looked to you awaiting your answer for her favorite dessert.
“Yeah Sweetpea, just let me call Grandpa Wayne. Maybe he can bring Ozzy” You put on a fake smile as you explained to her but honestly you needed to step away, to have a distraction. You knew this conversation with Izzy would be difficult but not this heart breaking.
You took a deep breath and walked to the diner counter, you knew they would have a phone on the wall where you could call Wayne from. You also knew that Wayne could be of help when it came with conversations about absent parents to young children.
The phone rang a few times and you were just about worried that Wayne had left for work and you would have to deal with a crying Izzy tonight, when the phone finally connected you felt a brief relief until the voice on the other line spoke. A voice you hadn’t heard clearly in years, and two words that made you feel like the earth had just shattered beneath your feet. “Munson Residence”
It was like your vocal chords had been cut and you were frozen in place. “Hello?” the familiar voice said again, you regained consciousness then.
You looked to your daughter who was standing on her knees, her body stretched over the booth as she stared at you, awaiting her milkshake. You stiffly put the phone back on the receiver. You were practically shaking, as you walked back to the booth.
“What happen mommy?” Your daughter noticed your shaking hands.You had forgotten your mother mentioned that Jeff’s father had passed but he never came back, even when all the boys did. Though he was here now.
“Nothing baby, nothing at all” You pulled out your wallet, setting money down as quickly as you could. You needed to leave, if he was back In Hawkins he would probably get lunch or dinner or breakfast. Bob’s Diner was his favorite place to eat when you were together, you were unsure if his tastes had changed but you were not going to risk finding out.
“Come on, Sweetpea. Let’s go” You spoke to your daughter who only looked at you strangely.
“But my milkshake mommy. You promithed” She whined, her lips coming to form a pout. Shit, you had forgotten about the milkshake. You could see the beginnings of a temper tantrum, so you kneeled down before your daughter.
“I know I know. Um- How about we stop at Melvalds very very quick and I make you milkshake at home and if we make them at home, we can watch the little mermaid, how about that?” You tried to reason, after being a single mom for a few years you knew exactly how to make your daughter happy. You just needed out of this diner immediately.
She sat in thought for a lot longer than you wanted to, but eventually agreed with an “Otay” and bounced her way out of the booth.
Eddie Munson entered Melvalds with a ring at the door, the sight of the store made Eddie happy that not everything had changed. It was still the same shade of blue and white, and teens were still making a mess in the chip aisle and it still played the same old 50s music.
When Eddie was young he hated it, always wanting something good like Metallica or Black Sabbath, he even tried to convince the owner once but that only made him threaten to kick Eddie out or arrest him for loitering. Though for the first time Eddie was grateful for the boring music, it brought him a wave of nostalgia.
Eddie made his way going straight for the beer aisle but the colorful section of candy caught his eyes. He stopped there, deciding maybe getting Wayne and himself some candy might be a good way to ease the tension. He looked for a pack of Swedish fish when a little voice spoke.
“You look like my daddy” Eddie turned to the sight of a small girl, dressed in an overall dress, with curly hair and a missing tooth. She stared straight up at him with a smile, she was fidgety in her stance, almost bouncing in place, but she only stared at him with big bright eyes in awe.
Eddie looked around the aisle, seeing no one else but the little girl in front of him. “I-I’m sorry.What?”
“You” the young girl said with utmost confidence and a small finger pointed straight at him “look like my daddy” She said with more emphasis.
Eddie laughed a nervous laugh, he kneeled down to the girls height to get a better look at the obviously confused girl. He couldn’t deny there was a slight resemblance but he wasn’t the only man with wild curly hair and brown eyes in the world. There's no way. Eddie thought.
“ I don’t think that’s possible, sweetie. I haven’t lived in Hawkins in over five years” Eddie tried to reason with the small child that he was indeed not her father, hoping she was just as confused as he was.
“I’m almost six” She practically shouted at him with a cheeky grin on her face. One that Eddie hated to say looked familiar. She stuck her hands out, showing him six fingers.
“Oh I— Well sweetie. I— That does not mean” Eddie tried to find a way to explain but then remembered she was a child, he looked around hoping to find the girl’s parents. A mother or even better a father, but besides a few teenagers, there was no one else. Eddie tried thinking of another solution, to try and get himself out of this situation “What is your daddy’s name?”
This seemed to throw the young girl for a loop, her eyes widened and Eddie could see the gears in her mind turning as she twisted her mouth to the side. Which only made Eddie feel like he was looking into a mirror. Which only made Eddie feel more sick, but the denial in his mind was strong. There was only one way this child could be his, and well there was no way. Right?
Her small finger came to tap onto her chin, as she thought about it. “Um. I don’t member but my mommy told me a long time ago” She shrugged
Eddie smiled at the young girl but the twisting feeling in his gut didn’t subside. Eddie tried to find another way out of this uncomfortable situation, he thought that maybe he could just tell the young girl goodbye and be on his way but he still didn’t see a single person old enough to be a parent. While Eddie could admit he has been an asshole lately, he wasn’t that big of an asshole to leave a lost child alone. “Where is your mommy?”
“She's buying me ice cream” The girl turned around and pointed at the cash register sign that read ‘Cashier 5’
Though before Eddie could ask if he could walk her to her mommy, the voice of the mother seemed to begin calling “Izzy, did you pick out your candy?”
Eddie knew that voice, it had been six years since he heard it but he undeniably knew that voice. He had dreamed about it often, and then there it was again “Izzy? Lets go”
Then she appeared before him, the face he had dreamed of for years, for a second he thought he might be in another dream, but she looked older, more mature than in his dreams but still as beautiful as ever. Eddie only stared and smiled without thinking, while she stared at him with a look of shock and fear, both of them frozen before each other. He had wanted to see her for so long and now she was here in front of him. With a pint of ice cream in her hands? and a ring on her? Wait, did she say Izzy?
Everything was finally coming together in his mind like lyrics to a melody.
The two stared at each other still in shock, as if trying to find her words she only breathed out one. “Eddie”
The two of them snapped out of their frozen daze when an abrupt loud voice of the little girl before them yelled in realization.
“OH YEAH! That's my daddy’s name!” her large brown eyes stared at him, mirroring his own.
Eddie Munson finally truly understood.
Things really do change.
AN: I feel like I might have disappointed y'all with this part, but I promise there will be a lot more Eddie and reader in the next part but what do you guys think?
Please Like, Comment, & Reblog.
If your name is scratched out is because I could not find you on tumblr
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader angst#eddie munson#eddie munson series#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#wayne munson
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tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington
🩵💥🩵
“Someday, you're gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.
But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.
Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.
But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.
Enter Steve.
Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.
Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.
So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”
Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”
Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.
He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.
Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.
Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?
Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.
Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”
Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”
The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.
Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”
Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”
His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”
Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.
What could it hurt? Steve thinks.
Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.
Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.
Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.
And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.
To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.
And Steve follows.
Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.
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Following Rules - Spencer Reid (smut)
I don't know where this idea came from, but boy do I love this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: What if JJ had an older daughter? What if Spencer had known said daughter ever since she had been a teenager? What if Spencer no longer remembers the rules he was supposed to follow when (y/n) finally gives in and pulls Spencer close?
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f and m), age gap, mom's best friend situation, teasing
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3k words)
If there was one thing Spencer had learned from an early age, it was following rules. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about the rules themselves, about the sometimes random-seeming words that somehow managed to transmit a message burned into his mind from the second the rules were spoken to him, no matter the age. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about how the people teaching him these rules tried to pronounce the important words, underlining the importance of the rules he was supposed to follow. No, it wasn’t about these things, but it was all about Spencer desperately trying to fit in, hoping to blend in with those around him as he remembered sentences that had no real meaning to him.
If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was remembering everything, from single words, long conversations or the plots of books that had more pages than even some other so-called geniuses could count. He could remember every rule that had been forced into his mind, no matter his age, but fuck, those rules were really testing him whenever he was around her. The girl who was just above twenty-one, the girl he had known since she was a teenager, the girl who called his best friend “Mom”.
“C’mon, (y/n), please. It’s just one night.” JJ’s sigh echoed through the living room, hands placed on her waist, eyes staring her daughter down. (Y/n) was sitting next to Spencer, eyes flickering up from the book she was reading, barely listening to the words her mother had spoken.
“I have a test next week, I need to concentrate and not babysit Henry. Why don’t you ask Penelope?” Before JJ could reply, eyes momentarily fluttering close to give in to the inner battle she was fighting – torn between being proud of her daughter for her academic success and the annoyance (y/n)’s determination pushed through her – Spencer spoke up, forcing all eyes towards him.
“I am free, I can totally look after Henry while (y/n) studies for her test.” The softness of Spencer’s voice momentarily distracted (y/n) from the way her heart began to speed up whenever he was close to her, wearing that smile that could melt her from the inside out, paired with the glistening pupils she saw whenever her eyes fluttered close.
(Y/n) was anything but proud to admit the way she had been crushing on Spencer for the past years. Once a harmless crush she had tried to accept when she was a teenager, it had escalated into something deeper, something more sincere the older she got. Deep down she tried to accept that this wouldn’t ever be more than a crush, a one-sided one that is, and yet she wasn’t ready to shake those feelings just yet, clinging to the thin thread as if it was her lifeline, saving her from drowning.
“You don’t have to, Spence. I know how much you enjoy your Saturday evenings.” (Y/n) tried to stop her eyes from rolling, not wanting to give her emotions too much room as she was surrounded by two profilers, but the small bits of annoyance filling her whenever her mother looked at Spencer with those big eyes of hers were hard to shake. She wouldn't be surprised if her mother had some feelings for Spencer, leaving (y/n) with a bitter taste on her tongue.
“Oh, no, I’d love to do it. And I can even help (y/n) with studying.” Their eyes met for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Not like she needs any of my help, but who knows, maybe I’ll get the chance to learn something new from her. So it’s a win-win situation for us all, I’d say?”
……
Music rang in her ears, eyes focused on her notes, trying not to give in to the distraction silently calling for her, luring her eyes towards Spencer’s frame. A sigh wanted to leave (y/n), cursing herself for giving in all too easily, not used to being around Spencer without her mother or any other member of the BAU around. Fuck, she’d need to get a grip before one of them could see through her lies, all too aware of her crush on Spencer.
“I think it’s almost dinner time. Do you want to eat with Henry and me?” Spencer’s soft voice drew a smile onto (y/n)’s lips, clearing her throat as she tried to shake her sinful thoughts.
“Uhm, sure. I think Mom prepared something for us.” She felt his eyes on her frame, watching (y/n) make her way towards the fridge, reaching for the containers filled with food. The sound of his Converse meeting the ground filled the momentary silence, coming to a halt next to (y/n) to help her fill their plates, standing way too close.
“How’s studying going? Do you need any help?” Heat rose to her face, eyes forced to concentrate on the food rather than the unmistakable grin tugging on Spencer’s lips. For a moment (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of the buzzing atmosphere, of the way he made her feel something she had only read about in books so far.
“It’s going okay. Maybe you can quiz me later, once Henry’s in bed?” God, she was digging her own grave, a grave so deep she’d never be able to escape. Just the mere thought of spending any more time with Spencer, without her little brother near, left her shuddering in excitement.
“Absolutely, whatever you need, (y/n), I’m here for you.”
Fuck, if it was only that simple.
……
“I knew you wouldn’t need any of my help, you’re acing it!” A proud grin tugged on her lips as she sunk further into the couch, feet finding Spencer's lap before she could even think about what she was doing. But while (y/n) was panicking inside, debating pulling her feet back, Spencer didn’t seem to mind the contact, hand finding her right foot without taking his eyes off the sheet he was using to quiz her.
“Alright, two more. Name me some sources for Shakespeare's Macbeth.” With a hum leaving (y/n), she tried to focus on the question, yet barely able to do so as Spencer’s hand began to move up from her foot to her shin, absentmindedly stroking her skin. Goosebumps covered her body, growing more and more with every passing second.
“Uhm,” her eyes fluttered close, hoping to collect herself. “Bits from the Daemonologie of King James, several tales in Holinshed's Chronicles, and parts of Hector Boece’s book Historia Gentis Scotorum.”
“Good girl.” The praise was spoken all too softy, yet loud enough to force her eyes open, finding his darkening ones within seconds. Spencer was looking at her with something unreadable swimming in his pupils, something that seemed to call her name, begging (y/n) to move closer, to find her way to him with her gaze set on his lips. But she didn’t try to move, not daring to give in first. “Last question, finish the following quote: Was the hope drunk-”
“Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now to look so green and pale, at what it did so freely?” Spencer hummed as (y/n) finished the first parts from Lady Macbeth’s monologue, unable to meet his eyes. She felt him shift, watched him place the sheet down before he turned back towards her.
“From this time such I account thy love. Art thou afeared to be the same in thine own act and valour, as thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine own esteem, letting ‘I dare not’, wait upon ‘I would’, like the poor cat i’th’ adage?” Spencer’s words rang in (y/n)’s ears, eyes focused on his wandering hand, moving up her leg till it found her trembling fingers. Their eyes met, wordlessly communicating, forcing her to shift her weight, slowly sitting up.
“You know, if there’s one thing my time at the BAU has taught me, it’s seizing every chance, even if you’re held back by rules you are supposed to follow, if it’s something your heart desires. I’m tired of fighting this, (y/n).” Spencer whispered his words, words that forced a grin onto (y/n)’s lip, barely believing her luck. Perhaps it was the warmth his words pushed through her body, perhaps it was the excitement his words made her feel, whatever it was that guided her on, it forced her to press her lips against Spencer’s before either of them could overthink this very situation.
Within seconds she found herself in Spencer’s lap, thighs placed on either side of his, squeezing them. A moan clawed through the both of them in unison, tongues meeting as their hands started wandering. (Y/n)’s fingers tugged on Spencer’s curls, forcing the man to groan against her mouth as his hands found her behind, squeezing the soft flesh through the thin fabric of her leggings.
“Spencer,” she hummed his name, fingers moving down to his chest, toying with his sweater, desperate to get it off him. “I need you, I want you, all of you."
“You have me, pretty girl, I’m all yours.” A smile widened on (y/n)’s lips as she kissed him again, shifting her weight further against him. The deep groan that left Spencer as her core met his hardening cock made her feel as if she was on fire, needing to feel more of it.
“Bedroom?” All Spencer could do was whisper the word, not trusting his voice, trying to hold back before he’d fuck her ruthlessly on the couch. Wordlessly she guided Spencer to her room, pulling her shirt over her head before he could get his hands on her. The sight left Spencer moaning, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, “You’re so beautiful, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”
“Onto your knees, be a good girl for me.” The shift of his voice, now dripping with dominance, made her walls clench around nothing, watching him plop down near the edge of her bed. She sank to her knees close to him, eyes following his long fingers, watching how they undid his trousers, how they freed his cock.
This moment had something so intimate to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t done this much sooner. For a second, she was forced to think of her mother, wondering how she’d react to knowing that Spencer was about to fuck her daughter, thoughts that were swallowed the second (y/n)’s gaze found Spencer’s twitching cock.
“C’mon, open that pretty mouth of yours for me.” Wordlessly she followed his command, eyes rolling back into her head as he forced her lips apart with the red tip of his cock. Groans clawed through Spencer as her tongue explored the parts he had pushed into her mouth, tasting him, feeling him, hoping that she’d never forget this very moment again. “Tap my thigh two times if this is too much for you, sweetheart.”
She hummed around him, choking on her breath as Spencer forced himself deeper down her throat. (Y/n) gagged around him, tears were instantly dripping from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks one by one, but she didn’t dare pull back, wanting to make Spencer proud. He fucked her mouth slowly, trying to keep his moans from growing any louder, not daring to attract any unwanted attention.
“You’re taking me as if you were made for me, such a good girl for me.” His praises left (y/n) moaning around his cock, trying to keep her hands from wandering, needing to take care of the heat growing between her thighs. Spencer could tell how needy she was, how much she wanted to feel his hands on her – a sight that only spurred him on. She was at his mercy, would follow his every command, like his own toy to use, to own, to love.
“I want you to swallow for me, can you do that, pretty girl?” Their eyes met, his blown wide from the lust thumping through his veins, hers glassy from the tears that kept on rolling. She tried to nod, tried to move her head, though without any luck, Spencer’s cock was too deep down her throat, forcing her to hold still. Her hands pumped the parts he didn’t force down her throat, adding more friction to the way he fucked her mouth.
He twitched against her tongue, about to cum down her throat, letting go with a silent groan. (Y/n) watched his head roll back, eyes fluttering close, lips parted – a sight she’d take to grave with her. She swallowed every drop he offered her, groaning at the salty taste, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time he fucked her mouth, the last time she got to taste him.
“Take your clothes off and get onto the bed, sweetheart.” Spencer’s gaze burned straight through her, watching her shuffle out of her sweatpants, panties and bra, bare in front of him. The mere sight of (y/n), naked for him, was enough to leave his cock twitching once again, already begging to feel her around him.
Their eyes held contact as Spencer stepped closer, quickly undressing himself before he rested between her thighs. He pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss, hovering over her with his hands exploring her naked body, cupping her breasts, pinching her hardening nipples before they found her dripping core.
“Oh god, feels so good, Spence.” She whispered her words, eyes fluttering close as she felt his warm breath clashing against her soft skin, tongue darting out to run along her folds, tasting her arousal. Spencer took his time with exploring her cunt, thumb rubbing her pulsing bundle as he dipped his tongue into her tightness.
(Y/n) choked on her moans, having to cover her mouth to try and stop her sounds from clawing through her too loudly. He studied her with mischief swimming in his pupils, set on making her thrash around beneath him, body shaking from the first of many orgasms he’d push through her.
His thumb picked up its speed as he pushed two fingers into her, instantly finding her swollen spot, close to making her cum right there. Soft praises left him, praises she couldn’t pick up on, already too far gone, about to cum for him. Her teeth drew blood from her lip, biting into the soft flesh all too forcefully to try and keep her sounds bottled in.
“Cum for me, pretty girl, let go.” Spencer’s words seemed to push her over the edge, holding her close as if he was scared she’d disappear right in front of his eyes, not daring to ever let her out of his sight again. His fingers fucked her through her high, marvelling at (y/n) and her pleasure-drunken features. “You did so well for me, so well.”
“Spence,” (y/n) murmured his name with her voice raspy and exhausted, yet dripping with anticipation. “Fuck me, I need you inside of me.”
“Are you sure?” His hands found her chin, forcing (y/n) to get lost in his pupils, struggling to reply. A soft “Yes” rolled off her tongue, momentarily pushing him away to reach for her nightstand, placing a condom in his hand. They kept holding eye contact as Spencer rolled the condom down his hard cock, as he positioned himself near her entrance, and as he pushed into her all too slowly.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His curses left her clenching around him, needing to deeply exhale as she tried to adjust to his size. Spencer watched her intently, not daring to move before she quietly whimpered his name, telling him to fuck her. He took his time, wanting to properly enjoy this very moment, feeling her walls flutter around him with every thrust.
(Y/n)’s moans guided him on, eyes staring up at Spencer, at the concentration tugging on his features, on the way his tongue kissed his teeth, on the way his eyes swam with a mixture of love and lust. His name rolled off her tongue every now and then, a mere whisper made for his ears only, a confession that weighed all too heavily, a confession that left both their hearts racing in excitement.
He fucked her faster with every passing second, holding onto the headrest of her bed to try and stop himself from properly destroying her, not wanting to mark her up on their first night together. And even though Spencer tried to control himself, wanting to properly concentrate on (y/n), she couldn’t help but beg for more, letting go of a “Please” every now and then, luring Spencer further into the darkness calling his name.
“Touch yourself for me, pretty, make yourself cum on my cock.” Their eyes kept meeting, watching one another as her fingers circled her overstimulated clit, drawing a few more moans from her slightly parted lips. Spencer knew that he’d never forget this moment, the way she looked so perfectly buried beneath him, made for him only.
“I’m close, Spence, need to cum, please.” Her words drew a “Fuck” from Spencer, knowing that he was just as close as she was. With a small “Cum” leaving Spencer, she let go, choking on her gasps with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. He kept on fucking her, high on the feeling of her, on the way she called his name, on the way she was his only.
Spencer let go a few seconds later, burying his face in the crook of (y/n)’s neck, silencing his sounds. For some moments they were engulfed by a thick blanket of silence, with only their moans echoing through the night, filling her room over and over again. Only as Spencer pulled away, throwing away the condom, did she dare to find her voice again.
“Spence,” the call of his name left him smiling, finding his way back to (y/n)’s bed. “Don’t leave just yet.”
“I’ll stay right here with you, promise, but I’ll be gone before your mom comes home, we can’t risk anything.”
Perhaps breaking rules had some perks to it after all. Perhaps breaking rules wasn’t as awful as people have always told Spencer.
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hello!! ive been lurking on your acc for a little bit and i absolutely adore your writing like omg!! but earlier i got to thinkin about toji (as we all do) and i was thinking about how vulgar i imagine him to be in a sexual context and it makes me like soo shy and im not shy 🙄 im just obsessed with the idea of him saying really filthy shit to us and then practicing what he preaches yk
PRACTISE WHAT YOU PREACH
a/n: i keep falling asleep on the couch writing. and thank u for the inspiration for the name LOL
wc: 2.4k
warnings: reader has the same bite to her as toji does but gets shy when said man says filthy things, dom!toji, implication of sex in parts of the drabble, (public) dirty talk, pet names, he calls you ‘whore’ and ‘slut‘, toji calls you ‘mama’ once, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, spitting (on hand and in mouth), p -> v penetration, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, riidng, praise, degradation, daddy kink at the end, creampie / breeding kink, brief oral / cunnilingus @ the end, n*sfw under the cut
fushiguro toji is a vulgar man inside and out. It’s obvious when he tells the teenage boys to go fuck themselves when he catches them looking at you and you have to slap his bicep, or perhaps grabbing a piece of your ass while waiting in line to pay for groceries and all you can do is send him a nasty glare and a strong nudge of your elbow.
he doesn’t mind his baby fighting back, especially with how easily he can overturn the tables and have you squirming and breathing heavily whenever he gets you under him in the bedroom.
it comes to light first when you’re talking with a co-worker at a company party, talking casually with them before toji comes over with both your drinks. he’s tamer, then, sucking up to your insufferable colleagues even if they didn’t know what they were saying. this dude was clearly eyeing you, too, despite knowing toji was your plus one, and at that point the poor man has had enough.
“how ’bout you invite him back to our hotel and let him watch as i fuck you? maybe then he would stop fucking starin’.” toji passes you your drink as he whispers it, albeit the last part filled with mild bitterness, not entirely as secretive as he would like to be because the colleague’s eyes are widening immediately. he swallows his saliva at the large stature of your boyfriend’s and you just know he did it on purpose. but when you don’t reply and bark back at him with annoyance, toji’s lips curl in a smile, a light bulb going off in his head at his discovery and he’s been incessant since.
“yeah? how ’bout you clean a bathroom for once, fucker,” you roll your eyes, throwing a rag into the bathroom sink, disgruntled at how your boyfriend couldn’t even clean his own sink. it was beyond him to clean the place where water flowed everyday but when he told you that all you could muster was a look of disgust.
you were in no mood for him when you saw him creep in behind you in the mirror, eyes trained on the male who just mutters apologies into your neck, kissing the skin there like a tease and resist the urge to shiver, keeping up your angered expression.
until his words hit. “’m sorry baby, shoulda known better than to say stupid shit like that. how ’bout i make it up to you?”
“like what, toji? you gonna get on your hands and knees and scrub the floors yourself? cause i’d like th—”
“i’ll do it,” but not for the reason you think, “i’ll do it if i get to eat my pretty girl’s pussy out. and then let me pound her while she watches how good i make her feel.”
needless to say, your panties were thrown in the washing machine immediately as he made your moans echo in that squeezy bathroom, and the sink ended up being squeaky clean for the next few weeks.
it’s the best way to get you to shut up and sometimes the way your lips move as you’re rambling about something or how your figure looks as you’re reaching for the tv remote and spouting profanities is just so hypnotising. he’s obsessed with you.
toji stares blankly at you while you’re explaining the way to work the air fryer for the third time that day, and it’s not his fault you’re currently in a camisole. it’s accentuating your tits and the home shorts you’re in isn’t helping either, because he can easily swipe it to the side to fuck into you.
you snap your fingers in front of his face, “wha—? listen to me when i’m talking to you, babe.”
toji just rolls his eyes, something he knows you hate, and he watches your outburst with a lovestruck smile. he catches your snapping hand with ease, switching to holding it. “hey! what did i say about rolling eyes?”
he leans forward, placing his other hand dangerously close to your ass, but the forehead peck distracts you. “i heard you the first time, darling.”
“you—!” toji just laughs at your surprise. sure, he was old as fuck but he wasn’t entirely clueless about the air fryer, but he let you explain and drone on about the settings, knowing you’d be focused on the device. that way, his eyes could travel unforgivingly and just like that, the playful moment is overcome by his vulgar disposition again, the act of his body craving yours before his words made you freeze on the spot.
“but enough about air fryers, hm?” the sight of toji’s hand almost covering yours was enough to send you reeling, but it’s increased when he drags your hand down the hardness of his front. you can feel the ridges of his abs, down, down, down until his bulge. he guides you to squeeze his dick, a guttural groan making its way to the front of his throat. “how ’bout you show me how much your eyes can roll back as my cock disappears into you, huh?”
your breath hitches at the proposition and toji’s smile spreads into a grin at your reaction because it’s like this every. single. time. unconsciously your hands start to undo the knot of his sweatpants, pulling it under his hardened shaft, the other sighing when your hand finally wraps around it. it aches so much that he finds himself thrusting into your hand briefly before you start stroking.
toji gathers a blob of spit on his tongue and maintains eye contact, spitting directly onto his cock for some lubrication and you take a deep breath, slick noises sounding out throughout the house. he makes sure to do it again later. “getting it ready for your pretty little cunt, aren’t you? filthy girl— f-fuck…”
the words make you rub your thighs together, stepping closer to him while you continue stroking, up, down and up, down, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine. pushing him until you’re out of the kitchen, he lets you shove him onto the couch, a loud groan leaving his lips when you descend to your knees and your mouth closes around his cock.
“s’big,” you whimper, swirling your tongue around his angry tip and going back to deepthroating him, desperate to feel his dick down your throat.
“oh— s-shit, baby,” toji pulls back the hair from your head, seeing your eyes barely being able to focus as it hits the back of your throat, “that’s it… suck it like the dirty whore you are.”
the degradation is reason enough for you to bob your head quickly, moaning around his length as your mouth drips drool mixed with the pre-cum from his tip. toji chokes out your name, hips bucking into your warm mouth while your hands find purchase on his thick thighs, taking him down your throat until your nose meets his pelvis. soon he‘s cumming down your throat with grunts, feeling the hot semen rush into your cavern.
“stay there, good fuckin’ girl,” the other groans out when your eyes shift to him, swallowing bits of his cum with a small stream of tears filling your lash line that threaten to fall. he notices your hand sneaking into your panties and he smirks, bringing you off his cock to catch your breath. you sputter and gasp, hand still lightly wrapped around him. he’s still hard after cumming, but he’s also more sensitive.
“can i ride you now?” you ask like it’s any other question, shimmying out of your underwear before wasting no time to straddle him. his tip pokes your pussy and you grab him, dragging him up and down your folds to collect your slick. before long, you’re grinding on the bottom of his shaft, your labia spread along his dick and toji is charmed by how you move on him with needy moans and two hands on his torso.
“sure ya can, doll, but…” you can tell toji’s impatient, as with you, so with a roll of your eyes (toji mumbles under his breath that you’re a hypocrite), you sink down slowly on him, the arousal of your cunt wet enough to take him without prep. inch by inch you take him deep, head thrown back as toji enjoys the view — the curve of your body, how your nipples poke through your camisole — and he smiles as his baby calls out his name from being so full.
“o-oh my god… toji—” the last bits of his name fades out when he moves his hips experimentally, the pain soon fading into pleasure and the feel of his cock in you causes you to lean forward.
“yes?” he grins, body now propped up with his elbows, meeting you halfway, “is my princess tired already?”
“n-no, i can do it,” you mewl when your hips start to bounce, the stretch of his dick feeling so good. he’s reaching places in you that you can’t even fathom, “i can take you…”
toji groans softly at your declaration, body twisted in such pleasure as you soon find a rhythm on him, relishing in the way toji watches you with lust in his eyes. he helps you with a hand on your hips, but the other pushes your top past your tits, mouth latching onto your nipple and taking one into his mouth and the gesture halts your movement for a bit. a chill runs through your body as he swirls his tongue around your bud, a breathless moan leaving you as toji looks up at you through hooded eyes.
it’s got you clenching, and toji hums into your chest, moving to your other nipple before releasing it with a pop! “tired?”
you make a small sound of agreement, the sensations of his thick cock in you paired with his lips on your tits and the burn of your thighs too much for you. he happily indulges you, bringing your body close to him before he plants his feet on the sofa and fucks up into you, a choked moan leaving you. that one thrust was just to tease you, limping into his embrace as he hears the slap of his balls onto your ass.
“you’re taking me alright,” toji laughs, cut off by a moan when he continues his ministrations, entranced by how you’re so wet you manage to leak down his length. with how your pussy is drooling, he rams into you easily, obscene noises of your sopping cunt against his pelvis as your sounds of pleasure comes out in little breaths.
“so wet,” toji comments softly, cock twitching from how your boobs felt against him and how your pussy feels so damn tight. it hugs him so snugly he has to will himself not to cum, but you’re making it difficult by how you call out his name in whines. “don’t tell me she was wet earlier already?”
you can hardly focus on his questions as he bullies his cock into you, body rocking from his relentless hips and the friction of your clit against his skin, but you mutter out a yes, a high-pitched one that’s got toji chuckling.
“my baby loves it when i talk dirty, huh?” you whine into his neck, arms tightening around his neck, “she loves it when i tell her how much i want to slam my cock into her pussy, yeah?” toji is ruthless, continuing to thrust while his words have very much the same effect. “or maybe she wants me to say how i want to cum deep in her cunt, filling her to the brim. shit… does she want me to fuck a baby into her?”
you clamp down around his cock with a loud moan and he stutters, “gotta stop clenching around me, darlin’, f-fuck.”
“y-yeah… wan’ that…” you pull away from your hiding place to babble out, eyes close to closing and drool dripping down the sides of your mouth. “wan’ all your cum, daddy.”
toji sucks in a breath at the name drop and in a second, he’s switching the positions. he admires the sweat on your skin and your heaving chest, and for the first time he’s able to see just how soaking wet you are, along with the stretch of your pussy on him.
“wan’ you to make me a mommy…” you mewl softly, and that’s all it takes for the other to start moving again because if it’s anything he loves more than seeing you crumble at his words, it’s how you tell him what you want.
you can feel toji twitch in you at that, but you have close to no strength, letting him thrust into you with vigour that’s running out too — he’s too besotted with your moans and face that’s morphed into pleasure, along with your whiny pleas.
“c’mon, open your mouth, mama,” toji pulls on your bottom lip with his thumb, “stick out ya tongue.”
you obey, hand squeezing his bicep as he gathers saliva in his mouth again, thrusts stopping briefly. he can feel your hips move, but you’re still focused on how toji purses his lips and how the spit leaves his lips — the long line of spit that descends slowly onto your tongue and the tension that surrounds it tells him you love it.
“attagirl,” he grins, wiping the corners of your cavern as the pace starts up again, and it’s so sudden you already feel like cumming.
“g’nna cum, daddy,” you mutter out, legs closing around him when you feel the familiar coil of your abdomen and toji just holds you closer, intoxicated with the moment that he wants it to last. “gonna—”
your eyes are blown wide when toji secretly reaches down to press a thumb into your clit, drawing lazy circles. that’s enough for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, pussy clenching hard on the other.
“daddy— oh my god!” toji still continues to rail into you, whimpers of his name spurring him on until you’re moaning out again as his cock spurts his cum deep in your cunt, filling you with his load until it spills out.
toji immediately drops down and starts to lap at your clit, a first class seat to his cum leaking from your pussy, laughing when you hardly care about it staining the sofa, too cockdrunk to care about reprimanding him.
“so pliant,” toji uses a finger to push his cum into you, “maybe i should get you like this more often, heh.”
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro smut#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x you#jjk scenarios#jjk smut#jjk drabbles
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a miserable pile of secrets [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz & Hen Wilson | 1/1]
1.8K words | friendship | emotional hurt/comfort | implied/referenced cheating
a miserable pile of secrets [on AO3]
She finds Eddie up on the rooftop, which makes sense, given that Buck is currently working out his feelings on the heavy bag after Bobby finally snapped at the two of them to get their acts together unless they wanted to be benched. Chim's down in the weight room with him, which means that Hen is up here in the warm night air to talk some sense into the other half of their codependent little unit, who is currently perched on one of the folding chairs that they usually leave up here. He's as still as a statue, tense like he's afraid of what his body might do if he lets it move.
"Hey," Hen says, and he gives a jerky little nod of acknowledgement. "Mind if I sit?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks." She pulls out one of the other chairs and sits down. "So."
"Bobby sent you."
"I sent myself," she corrects mildly, and watches Eddie's shoulders hunch a little. "I don't think I've ever seen you and Buck fight like that."
Though the truth is, she really only caught the tail end of it. Buck's frustrated voice rising on, "Do you hear yourself? How did you think this was going to work out? Have you even thought about Chris? What, you were just going to introduce him to her like—"
"Chris? Since when is how I parent my son any of your business?"
"I don't know, Eddie, you kind of made it my business when you put me in your fucking will!"
"Yeah, well, maybe that was a mistake!"
There was ringing silence in the wake of that. Then Buck said something quieter, inaudible from where Hen and Chim were standing frozen outside the locker room door, and Eddie spat, "Go to hell. I'm done talking about this."
The door slammed open and he stormed out, only pausing for a moment when he saw the two of them standing there. It wasn't until he'd already stomped up the stairs to the loft that Buck emerged, scowling.
"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped, before either of them could speak.
That was six hours ago. Neither of them has said a single word to each other since outside of the bare minimum on calls. The tension in the back of the truck has been thick enough to cut with a knife, and none of Chim's increasingly desperate jokes has done a damn thing to lighten the mood.
Hen doesn't blame Bobby for being fed up with the pair of them. She's caught somewhere between that and worry, herself. This isn't like them. Either of them.
Eddie shrugs again, tense. "I don't really feel like talking about it."
"Mm."
Hen kicks her legs out, relaxes into the chair and waits him out. It doesn't take long. Maybe two minutes before he lets out an angry little huff and says, "Marisol dumped me this morning."
"Oh," Hen says. That explains some of the mood, anyway. "Well, I'm sorry to—"
"I cheated on her. She found out."
She closes her mouth. For a moment she just looks at him: his tight jaw, his hands in fists on his thighs, so tense he looks like he's about to snap. Like looking through a warped mirror to a younger version of herself, and maybe that's why she manages some gentleness when she says, "That doesn't sound like you."
"Yeah. That's what Buck said. Shows what he knows."
"Why'd you do it?"
"It doesn't matter. It was stupid. I fucked up."
"If you're waiting on me to tell you otherwise, you'll be waiting a while." Eddie lets out a sharp, bitter little bark of laughter, and Hen adds. "I've been there, you know."
"Yeah. But it's not—Karen forgave you."
"Eventually, yeah. She didn't have to."
"Yeah," Eddie says, and then doesn't say anything else.
"Is that what you and Buck were fighting about?"
He shrugs again. Like talking to a damn teenager, Hen thinks. Not Denny, with his easy sweetness, but like one of the other kids who come through their home sometimes on temporary placements: already on the defensive, claws out, ready to fight.
"I guess," he mutters finally.
"You put him in your will?" Eddie scowls at her, and she shrugs. "Hey, if you want it to be a secret, maybe don't have your domestics at the top of your lungs in the locker room we all use."
He scoffs, clearly annoyed, but doesn't get up and storm off, so she's counting that as a win. Finally, he says, "Yeah. He's down as Chris's legal guardian if something happens to me. Since—uh, since I almost died in that well collapse a few years back."
Oh. Hen contemplates that for a moment, squares it up in her head with what she already knows about Eddie. It's not, she'll admit, completely out of left field. But still. "And you think maybe that was a mistake?"
Eddie groans, dropping his head back. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."
"Maybe you should tell Buck that."
"He's pissed at me."
"Seems mutual."
"Yeah," Eddie says, wry and still kind of irritated. But then he sighs. "You ever do something where you know the whole time you're doing it that it's going to blow up in your face, and somehow that still doesn't stop you?"
"Yep," Hen says, remembering a dark little motel room and the sharp cut of Eva's smile. A whole damn pile of fuck-ups, that relationship was, and she dragged it along with her to almost ruin the best thing in her life.
"I keep thinking I see Shannon. It's like she's just around the corner, like if I turn around fast enough, she'll be there, and I'll be able to go back and make it right. But I can't."
"No. You can't."
"It's been five fucking years."
"No timeline on grief."
"I went on a date with a woman just because she looked like her." Hen raises her eyebrows at him. He slouches lower in his seat. "A couple of dates. It—didn't end well."
"Mm. You mean because she turned out to be a whole damn person who wasn't Shannon, or because your girlfriend found out?"
"Both," Eddie mutters. "Believe me, I already heard it from Buck."
"Oh, I believe it."
"But he's—" Eddie snaps his mouth shut.
"Kind of a hypocrite on this particular subject?" Hen offers.
"That's not what I was going to say. He's with Tommy now. So."
"So?"
"Never mind. It doesn't matter."
Hen would dearly love to interrogate that line of thinking, but she keeps her mouth shut. For a little while, they don't speak. It's a transient kind of peace; their next call could come at any minute. But for now, the city's as quiet as it ever is, lit up and beautiful in the distance.
Eventually, Eddie shifts in his chair, straightens up like he's bracing for something, then says, abruptly, "Can I ask you a personal question?"
Hen raises her eyebrows. "Go ahead."
"Have you ever been with a guy?"
"Excuse me?"
"Forget it," he says quickly, hunching in on himself again. "I don't even know why I asked. You can tell me to go to hell."
She almost does tell him to go to hell. Has her mouth open and everything. But then she takes another good look at his face and lets the words dissipate.
"No," she says finally. "Kissed a couple of boys in high school, but I pretty much always knew it wasn't for me."
"Oh." Eddie's mouth twists. He's still staring a hole in the concrete by his feet, and Hen wishes like hell that this was easier for him, that he could have stumbled into it with wide eyes and open arms without leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. Buck managed it, but it's not like that for everyone. She knows that.
"Karen was engaged to a man, you know," she says, and she watches him still, watches him turn, finally, to look at her.
"I didn't know that."
"It was a long time ago. College sweetheart. She called it off a week before the wedding. Broke his damn heart, from what I hear. Probably better in the long run, though, all things considered."
Eddie laughs at that, a raw, horrible little sound. "I was a bad husband to Shannon. I loved her so much, and I still could never—and I always thought that maybe, if we'd just had more time, maybe I could have gotten it right, and we could have been a family again, and it would have been okay."
"But she died."
"She asked me for a divorce."
"Oh." Hen takes a breath, lets it out. Careful, careful. "I didn't know that."
"Nobody knows that. I mean. Bobby does. But nobody else. Because she died two days later, so I never had to—to tell anyone. I never had to admit it. I could keep pretending. But it doesn't even matter, because I've also fucked up every relationship I've been in since. So it's kind of obvious where the problem is."
"Mm. You know what my mama used to say?"
Eddie cuts her a look. "What?"
"Get down from that cross, we need the wood."
When he laughs this time, it sounds a little more real. Hen nudges her knee against his, and for a minute they sit there together in silence.
"I fucked up," he says again, but it's calmer.
"Yep."
"What the hell do I say to Buck?"
Not Marisol, Hen notes. Though the truth is she's pretty sure that whole relationship was dead and gone long before whatever went down this morning. Maybe from the very beginning. Eddie's just got a bad habit of dragging those corpses around. "Sorry might be a good start."
"He's gonna ask why. I don't have a good answer. I can't—" He looks over at her, and all Hen can think is that he looks so damn young. "I can't."
"So tell him that. You know he's not gonna push it."
"Yeah, he will."
"He's worried about you."
Eddie scoffs. "Yeah."
That was, Hen surmises what the fight was about in the first place. Unstoppable force, immovable object. Sometimes she wishes she could just knock their stubborn heads together until they showed some sense.
"He loves you," she says, and Eddie flinches.
"I know that," he mutters.
Hen sighs. "Just talk to him. You don't have to tell him anything you're not ready to tell him, but just—talk to him. Okay? For all our sakes."
"Yeah, okay," Eddie says, sounding defeated. "Sorry about that."
"We'll survive," Hen says. She bumps her knee against his again, and they sit there together in silence, watching the city lights, until the bell starts going off below.
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The truth lays within jealousy- Bellamy Blake
Warnings: basically just cursing and knife play
Summary: Bellamy's your enemy but things begin to take a turn once you start fighting to push through emotions you feel towards each other.
Bellamy Blake made my blood boil, and I prayed I made him feel the same way. I was best friends with his sister, Octavia. Meaning, I had no choice but to be in the same tent or room as him. The rivalry between Bellamy and I formed when the 100 first came to Earth. We were on dividing sides, he had everyone in his control and made them feel free but that ended dangerously. I was with the group that wanted to help and make sure we survived.
“Do you always have to disagree with me, Blake?”
He turned to look my way, his hand resting on the map below our waists laying on a table. “Do you always have to have disagreeable ideas–Kane?” He spit my last name out as if it left a bitter taste.
I’m just thankful he didn’t call me that other name, the one he knew I so deeply despised. My eyes rolled on instinct, “You’re such a dick, you are aware of that flaw right?”
He glared my way, “You always keep me aware don’t you, princess?”
I fucking hated him, “Don’t call me that, Blake.”
“What will you do if I say it again?”
My father made me train with guards on the Ark since I was a child, I could easily take Bellamy, and him forgetting that made me always want to remind him. I stabbed my knife into the wood table and as soon as I did Octavia walked in.
She moved the tent opening away, “What is going on?”
Bellamy folded his arms making his muscles fight with his shirt. I tried my best to not stare but as much as I loathed this man and wished him nothing but the absolute worst–he was the formation of my desires. And that left lingering resentment. “Your friend is threatening me, O.”
I unstuck the knife and pointed it at him from the other side of the table as I talked, “He was testing me, Tavia. It’s his favorite pastime,” I said staring harshly at Bellamy.
“How about you both go train, maybe away from each other? You can work with Murphy and I’m sure you can find someone, Bell.”
I gave a half smile, “I’m sure every–what’s the number now?” I made it look like I was deep in thought, “Like 50 girls now? Are willing to train with you, you know your way around the 100, Blake.”
Bellamy gave me dead eyes as his jaw clenched. I struck a nerve. “O, get out.”
Octavia usually hates when Bellamy orders her around just cause he's older than her but she listened without a fight this time. She knew I crossed some form of a line. She mouthed sorry to me and walked out.
I moved over to him, my knife laying close to his throat. He didn't care, he didn't even bat an eye. He almost smirked at the notion.
“Tell me, princess, was I supposed to pent up everything I was feeling like you do? Tell me, how's that going for you?”
My eyes widened a bit, “I’m sorry do you want me to just go sleeping around with every dude on this earth because what? I can’t deal with my emotions correctly?”
He bit his tongue.
“I guess maybe I should take your advice because I see how greatly it’s been going for you. The known asshole you only go to for a hit and quit it.”
Bellamy eyed me, “Is this you trying to offer up, princess?”
My breath was shaky, I scoffed, “Go float yourself.” I stormed out of the tent and went to the only place inside Arkadia where you could blow off steam. The training spot. Bellamy usually overwatches, sometimes with Lincoln so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made his way over here.
Murphy made his way over to me, “Need a partner?”
I nodded my head and decided to not take my anger out on him–at least not with words. “Yes, but I can’t promise I’ll go easy on you, Murphy.”
He smiled as he got into his stance, “I didn’t expect you to. I remember seeing you training from time to time with soldiers. I’m going to have to bring my A-game now.”
I laughed and it made me feel a bit better, say what you want about Murphy–but his sarcasm and wit will always make you laugh. I got into position and Murphy punched towards me and I moved my hand fast enough to push it away and block it. We kept going back and forth, not taking it seriously.
Soon, as expected Bellamy appeared. He crossed his arms as he analyzed our performances. Suddenly both of us began to take it a bit seriously, but I chose to ignore Bellamy. He knew I was holding back, it showed in Bellamy's face.
“Let me try.”
I ignored him but Murphy stopped fighting, I tried to regain my breath. Murphy was like Bellamy’s sidekick since the beginning, that faded and nobody tried to make an enemy of Bellamy. Like it or not he did run a lot of things we live by. Especially with Clarke gone.
He got into position and I immediately went to attack. I moved close and elbowed his face causing him to move forward. I went straight for a kick to his bent knee and easily got him down. When getting up his hand stayed on my thigh as he rised up, it was like he was purposefully trying to mess me up. That could be the only reason.
“Damn Bell, maybe she should replace you as a trainer,” Octavia said while spectating. Monty and Jasper laughed.
Bellamy stood up and hit me immediately in the gut. From the force, I took a couple of steps back, and I cursed under my breath. He shrugged with a grin forming on his lips. When he went to pull another move I grabbed his arm pointed it up, and used my left arm to push down on his arm. I twisted his shoulder and I knew I was causing pain. I had this move done to me and I was in pain for a couple of days.
For a split second, I heard a groan from him, it almost put a smile on my face. “C’mon Blake, are you even trying? If you lose this–I can only assume where you’re going to go to…or who.” Maybe it was a low blow but he pissed me off before.
My fist came towards him and he grabbed my arm tightly, almost hard enough to leave a bruise, and flipped me onto the ground. I tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was hanging onto this fight by a thread. I kicked his stomach and he caught my leg and tried to make me fall but I did the one trick that took me years to master–I kicked with enough force off the ground for a second to gain a stance to be able to kick him back.
Bellamy went to hit me in the face but I got to him first and elbowed him. He spit out blood and turned his head up with a grin as he wiped the blood. He tricked me and by making it seem like he was going for a low attack, I didn’t move up in time to block him and he punched me. My lip began to bleed.
“Guys, I think you should stop now. You proved you both can fight–now stop,” Octavia warned.
We ignored her warning and kept going. I was determined to beat him, and I didn’t have a real reason why. Part of me wondered if this was my only source of letting my emotions go, maybe I wasn’t that different from that man that I hated. We are both stubborn, witted, determined, quick-tempered, reckless, and aggressive.
“One hit and we’re done,” he said. “Better make yours count, princess,” he whispered. The way he made it seem, that nickname was for our ears only. He never said it loud enough for others to hear and I almost preferred it that way. And when he did, he was only focused on me. As if nobody else was on the earth with us.
My thoughts were distracted and he immediately brought me down. My back hit the ground and I winced in pain, my back arched a bit hoping that would help the pain. Before anyone could help, Bellamy quickly moved to my side. “Are you okay,” he asked almost frantically in a low voice. He sounded genuine.
The gaze I had on him changed, it softened even though I was in pain. I was utterly confused. “What are we doing,” I whispered, his back covering everyone’s view of my lips. At best, they’d hear mumbles.
“Your solution to letting your emotions out, remember?” He lightly laughed, “Fuck, we’re idiots.” Bellamy brushed his thumb on my bottom lip, “Truce?”
My brow almost furrowed, “Truce? Does that mean we suddenly don’t hate each other?”
He laughed and began to help me up, “No, definitely not. You’re still the bane of my being.”
I stood up and got my words out fast enough before everyone crowded me to see if I needed Abby, “And you’re still the only person I hate in this world.”
Bellamy slowly backed away as we kept our eyes on each other, everyone kept asking if I was okay but I didn’t reply. I was too fixated on the man I detested. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said while brushing past them. The one person who got horrendously hurt was Bellamy, yet he didn’t complain or stop them from helping me.
“I’ll help you to, Abby,” I said putting his arm around my shoulder which felt oddly–right. When I looked back to show Octavia I was going to help him, I just saw a group of disbelieving faces. I’d be shocked too, never would I have ever felt pity or thought of helping Bellamy. “I kicked your ass.”
He laughed as if he didn’t have drops of blood on his shirt, “I’d call it a fair fight.”
“I’d call it my win.”
He glanced at my lips then my eyes, we came to a halt. “You want to finish this?”
I could feel his hand brushing along my neck, “I think we’re probably banned from training together for a bit. Though I think that wasn’t a training session–that was fighting.”
Bellamy’s gaze dropped, he stared at me, almost desperate as if he was yearning for something he never even got to get ahold of for years. His touch became more apparent, he stared at my lips as he talked. “I’m not talking about in the training spot.”
My lips parted and suddenly every feeling I had for him disappeared. Only one stayed- the desire I clung to. Instead of going to Abby, Bellamy and I went into his tent.
It was as if both our strengths had been regain, like we were both pushing our limits to be ignoring our pain to mix it with pleasure. Bellamy took his shirt off with such poise and it made me roll my eyes. I started undressing myself also. My eyes lingered on his chest, God, he was so defined. Like a Greek god or a statue made out of generosity.
"My eyes are up here, princess," he said as he pushes me down onto his bed.
I didn't like how much I secretly enjoyed him calling me princess. "You're so full of it, Blake."
He kissed me roughly, as if we didn't have time to spare to be kind to one another. Our hate lingered and I loved it. I winced in pain because of my lip and that caused him to groan into my mouth. He was making it harder and harder for me to not rush this.
I switched spots with Bellamy, God forbid he lets me control one thing. I kissed down his neck being anything but gentle to the parts I knew he was going to have a bruise at tomorrow.
"Fuck," he whispered.
My hands traveled down his chest and before I could do anything he traded spots with me. "Watch yourself princess, if you keep going- I don't think I can stop myself."
"I don't want you to."
Bellamy used his knee to spread apart my legs. He put his hand around my neck and slowly pushed down so I’d be lying flat on my back. I felt my stomach growing butterflies. “I will be anything but gentle with you–” He paused and stared at my lips. “But I think you can take it.”
#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy blake#octavia blake#oneshot#enemies to lovers#bellamy blake imagine#the 100#the 100 fanfiction#john murphy#bob morley#jealousy#abby griffin#clarke griffin#knife kink#Spotify
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A Reward
VAL + MLIST ; Happy Valentine's! It doesn't intrude on anyone if you'll be spending the particular day this month brings in, alone, we can spend it together with these one-shots I've prepared just for you, hoping it would send passion to you.
NSFW : office sex, secretary x ceo, humiliation, dominance, cockwarming, teasing, fingering, exhibitionism, praise, teasing, pet names, riding, cursing, degradation, penetration, etc.
note : I was only gonna do one character but since I've been inactive, yall take this, Happy Valentine's! The poll's ending and so far, secretary y/n x ceo is in the lead, whatever won would be the result for the female version as well. 💗
[ male ver. ] — Al Haitham, Ayato, Dainsleif, Diluc, & Tartaglia
│ AL HAITHAM
doing something nasty with your boss was something you never thought would ever happen to you in your lifetime of work at a publishing company, especially in your life as a bitter individual, but here we are, with the most recent edition in progress. you felt your stomach flip whenever he would thrust up his cock inside you further, the warmth radiating off his body seeping into yours, and that one thing you had always been discreetly craving for came right back again.
it's funny how all those sexual thoughts about him that you have never really let yourself admit to anyone, in particular, come rushing to mind when you think about what it might be like to fuck him, to have sex with him, it’s almost enough to make you feel ashamed from your desires.
"S-Sir... Please..." you begged him, and though it was difficult for you not to plead with him since he liked edging and teasing you like this to get you into positions where you would just do what he said or say something he wanted you to, you pushed your best to the limit to withstand him.
"Can't even wait until I finish my work, huh? Like a naughty thing you are, entering my office without even knocking first." He whispered seductively, You bit your lip, hoping you didn't make things worse for yourself by refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry... I-It won't happen again... I... Was just in hurry to- to get the work done as fast as p-possible so you'd get off early, s-sir..." you explained, your voice quivering and barely audible, but you were doing everything you could to hide how flustered and embarrassed you were at that moment. You didn't want to seem weak before him, it would only make him more determined to have you as his cocksleeve,
He hummed in reply, and you heard the shuffling of papers behind you, "So what? You want me to award you or something for doing that? I never asked you to rush the work, but if you must insist on having your head held down, then I can't deny you this." he told you. You gulped and looked at him sheepishly, You weren't exactly sure what he meant, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't refuse anything he asked, especially if it involved getting to kiss him or touch him, you just couldn't help yourself sometimes, you had fallen hard for him. "if you can wait for me to finish this, who knows? I might even consider rewarding you."
│ KAMISATO AYATO
The sound of skins clapping and your wails are the only voices that permeate the room. You’ve lost trail of time after all this. In a way, You wouldn't lie, it was kind of nice though, being so immersed in the sensation of someone else or rather your 'boss' who's doing you to such a great extent that it leaves you feeling like a mess.
The chimes that come out of your mouth were loud enough to drown out any thoughts and doubts that might come to the surface, even if you try not to think about them at all. You're not certain how long you've been laying there with your hands clutched together, but all you could think at the moment is how much satisfaction he had given your body from the inside.
"You've been working pretty hard, (y/n)," You felt an arm caress your waist, Ayato pressed his lips against your neck. "And for that, You deserve a reward." His lips move to smooch your skin as he speaks to you, sending shivers down your spine every time. It's almost like he knows precisely what you feel and how to please your body just right, leaving you unable to move on your pact.
the way his cock moved inside your tight walls while he fucked you into thoughtlessness and made you enjoy the moment better... It made your heart beat faster, He was so fine, the way he would move with his lips on your neck and his cock into you made everything more severe than it should have been.
"A-Ayato~" you couldn't help but whine loudly when he started moving slowly in and out of you from behind. The oscillations of his hips against your own caused warmness to pool between your legs, stretching out through your whole body and making you want more. He groaned and bit your earlobe. "Normally, I'd be furious for you calling me by my name informally just like that, but today I'm just too busy here to care," Ayato said in between heavy pants. Your mind went blank as you felt him hit that particular spot, causing you to arch up and let out another moan that sounded less like a word and more like a plea.
│ DAINSLEIF, & DILUC
you were always curious about his reputation, in fact, you never get how your workmates are drawn into him! He was all cold and mysterious, always working at his desk and barely interacting with his employees. But then again, there is no shortage of people who are frigid and bizarre, to begin with. You know this. everyone was envious of you for being taken the yield of as his 'assistant' but that's just how things are between the two of you. It's not like he behaves toward you differently or anything, it's just that you can see right through the facade he puts up when it comes to his emotions toward others.
so now it's all weird to say that you're giving your boss the best day ever, How did it happen? it was because you had an argument with him and now with his dick inside your mouth, it felt really good, especially when you heard some sounds coming from his pretty lips. He sounded like he was having trouble controlling himself and you thought he would stop you but he didn't. so that's when your brain finally clicked. you were both horny, and the only way to relieve that pain would be to do something to each other.
but no, you were being disciplined for speaking disrespectfully toward him, and now would you even call this punishment? giving him a head like this makes you feel incredible, especially when your hands roam around his body, touching what you could brush. you don’t know how to describe his body, he has a ton of muscles that move with every movement he makes. it’s all amazing to you. you wish this feeling will last permanently because right now you think you could fall asleep with this man's cock inside your mouth, your lips wrapped around his shaft.
you’ve been sighing softly and he seems to be getting a kick out of this too. maybe he finds it as arousing as you do, maybe he's aware of what you want, or maybe he doesn’t give a damn either. you don’t know but he seems to be getting more impatient, and soon his hand is on your hair, pulling slightly so you open up further to take a better hold of his cock. “oh... your mouth... Fuck” he mutters breathlessly before thrusting into your throat harder than before. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second and you don’t think that’s fair because this isn’t even fucking you yet.
the noises he makes and how his dick slides into your mouth smoothly feel like heaven in the best way possible. he’s almost completely out of breath by now and looks like he might collapse any moment. you have him now, your fingers tightly wrapped around his shaft, pumping him with your mouth as hard as you can just to earn his forgiveness.
| TARTAGLIA
Your tight walls hugged his cock as if they were the very walls of your heart. Your hands held resting on his shoulder with your weight as you pressed your body onto him. You rode him hard until he cried out in euphoria. His face was buried in your neck, his hair was soft, and his scent was intoxicating.
He felt you squeezing his hips to keep his cock deep inside of you. He was aching for discharge, you could sense it. But the instant his hand wrapped around your waist, you gasped. His touch left an ice-cold trail across your back. The way his fingers traced circles on your skin made you shudder. He had that effect on you that no one else ever could. It was so powerful, so captivating. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized how much you liked this.
You like all of the noises he's making, the feeling of your thighs against each other, the roughness of your bare legs digging into his chest. You're sure that it makes him think of other things too when you're fucking him, but you don't mind at all. There's just something about having someone so passionate about sex, but so careful with everything else as well. "You're so tight..." he groaned, It's like you're in sync with each other, both of you moving in perfect tandem. You want to be as close to him as possible. So when he touches your shoulders or your ass, you let go and take his hand wherever you can reach. And that feels good. You love his big strong hands roaming over you. They are bigger than your own but softer. Like when he caresses you from behind, his touch lingers as it travels upwards.
"Not only were you good at seducing others," he says, "But you also knew what you were doing." His breath tickles your ear and you shiver. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your hole has you moaning softly. It seems like the only thing that sounds louder than your breathing, and that alone makes you crave more. Your body aches for more. Your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you. You move your hips up again and again, pushing yourself against him as if trying to draw every bit of his cock into you. It drives both of you insane. All of it. Everything.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#al haitham x reader#al haitham smut#genshin al haitham#al haitham#kamisato ayato smut#kamisato ayato#ayato x reader#genshin ayato#ayato smut#kamisato ayato x reader#genshin childe#childe x reader#childe#childe smut#genshin tartaglia#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia smut#dainsleif smut#dainsleif x reader#dainsleif#genshin dainsleif#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc ragnvindr#diluc x reader#diluc smut#diluc ragnvindr smut
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Teach Me Tonight - Part 7
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]
Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)
Rating: Explicit (3k)
Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink
Summary:
Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.
"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"
Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.
Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.
"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"
"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"
"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.
"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."
Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.
He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"
You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.
"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"
"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.
"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"
"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."
"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.
"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."
It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.
Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?
"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"
You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.
"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.
"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.
You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.
"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.
He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.
"Mhmm, that's more like it."
You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.
"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight.
You smirked - why was this so hot?
You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.
"What about you?" he said, his voice low.
"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."
"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.
"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."
"Which part?"
"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.
"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.
"Yeah," you exhaled.
"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.
Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.
"Fuck, Carmy."
You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.
Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.
"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.
"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.
It worked - his eyes darkened again.
"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.
"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.
Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.
"I swear I'm gonna-"
You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.
"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.
"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.
"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.
"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."
You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.
"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.
"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.
Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.
"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."
You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.
You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."
"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.
His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.
He grinned.
"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.
"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.
"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.
You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.
"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.
"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."
He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.
He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.
"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.
"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"
"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."
He kissed your shoulder lovingly.
"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"
"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."
You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.
"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."
Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."
"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.
"Shut the fuck up!"
He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.
~
You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.
You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...
"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."
He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.
"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."
"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.
After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"
"What?" you froze.
He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.
"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."
"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.
"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"
"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"
You nodded.
"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."
"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.
"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."
"Wrong how?"
"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"
"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."
"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.
You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.
"Would you-" he said, then stopped.
You turned to face him. "Yes?"
"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.
"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.
"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.
~
You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.
"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.
"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."
"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.
Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.
"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.
"Have I told you I really like her?"
"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.
You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.
"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.
It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.
"Missed you too," he replied.
His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.
"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.
"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."
"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.
"Mmm..."
He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.
"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...
Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.
"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."
Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.
"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.
He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.
"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.
"Too cold?" Carmy asked.
"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.
You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.
His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.
"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.
You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.
Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.
"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.
"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.
"I'd like that."
~
[Deleted Scene]
[Part 8]
~
@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp
#reader moves in with carmy; shenanigans ensue!#it's three separate days/nights in case it wasn't clear lol#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#carmy x you#carmy berzatto smut
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he's such a pretty liar || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz @deadgirlrin
AVAILABLE ON AO3
Dialogue Prompts: 8 + 2
Inspiration: my boy by Billie Eilish
Summary: You and Rick had gotten along at some point, at the farm and prison. You were friends even. Until the Governor killed Hershel, which you believed to be perfectly preventable. Because of his inaction then, you'd gotten a bitter taste in your mouth at the thought of him and eventually, he started to reciprocate the behavior. But as time passes, and you experience more and more with him, is it really hate that you feel?
TWs: enemies to lovers (like fr though), yelling, mentions of death (Shane, Lori, Beth, and Hershel), mention of the Claimers scene, cursing, anger, nosebleed, bruising, love confessions, injuries, blood, and all things TWD.
[[A/N: This is based on Carl being mad at Rick after the prison. Rick do be stressed out, and he do be saying some terrible stuff, but like so are you. This gif is so 🫣💞🤭💞🤪. Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]
You weren't a bad person, and in that regard, you wouldn't say Rick was either. Honestly, you respected him as a leader -you just didn't agree with all his choices. That's where it all started, after all, isn't it?
You'd seen what a wrong choice could do, you'd watched Hershel die right in front of your eyes. You'd seen it all.
And, sure, maybe you were grieving a little but you still largely disagreed with Rick's actions on the matter. It was preventable.
It started there, and only really got worse. It was like once you identified one flaw, suddenly you were second-guessing his every move. The two of you couldn't be in a room without arguing, couldn't be put on shifts together, nothing. Daryl, for one, wouldn't let you be alone together at all. And if it wasn't him, it was someone else.
"Rick, seriously," you spoke once, almost sternly, "-that can't be your decision."
"Why?" he responded -pointed and short, "-Ya got a better idea? Go right fuckin' ahead."
You knew that since the prison, Rick had been strung thin. You knew that he had been harder on himself than you could ever be about Hershel. But, you still were angry. Sometimes, sometimes it felt like maybe he was just a target for everything that you'd been through. And you were trying to change your behavior, change your ways.
You'd known him for so long, and you were going to be stuck with him. The group, even though the two of you weren't on the best terms, was like family to you.
And then, it started getting personal.
This argument stemmed from something small, trivial, you can't even remember it now. Maybe a decision on a run? You can't-
"Ya act like ya ain't made mistakes of your own," he added, "-all high and damn mighty-"
"When did I say that?" You interrupted, more cold than anything, "-You're putting words in my mouth, Grimes."
"-Because I seem to remember ya tellin' me about your family," he continued, not even pausing to listen to you.
You stilled in place.
"Rick," you warned (voice slightly shaking), "-don't... don't go there."
Your family. At the beginning of all this, you'd froze -scared. Watched one of them get bitten, and then everyone just followed after -not willing to grieve. You regretted not being quicker, not being more aware, but you weren't used to it. You weren't-
"Ya fucked up," Rick continued, as if he wasn't bringing up what he was, "-We all do, why do you-"
"No, no," you shook your head, voice shaking, "-Rick, that is not fair. You can't bring up my family-"
You had hated yourself for that, hated yourself. Still did. You would never forgive yourself for not saving them, even though you really didn't have an idea how to then, you should have-
God, he was bringing this up? Really?
"-over a goddamn run strategy."
"Well, you pick apart every damn thing I do," he retorted, "-'Thought I'd do the same for once."
"Oh, fuck you, Rick," you seethed, tears burning the backs of your eyes, "-you want me to poke at your wounds? Talk about who you could've saved?"
He pursed his lips, and you saw something flash through his eyes (they were trailing the now shake of your hands) that looked a little like regret. Like maybe he was understanding what he said. You felt like your skin was on fire.
"Do you want me to start from the beginning?" You tsked, a fire burning in your chest, "-Shane? Or maybe Lori? Beth? Hershel-"
"Stop," he stated, quieter than before.
"-Why, Rick?" you hissed, and you felt the tears now, "-Is this not what we're talking about? Oh, do you not want me to bring that up? Over a run?"
"I get it," he spoke, softer, and something in you sharpened, "-I get it, Y/N."
"Do you?" you responded, frustrated and just... angry, "-Do you, Rick?"
"I shouldn't 'ave-"
"Can it," you interrupted -short, "-Let's just get the fucking supplies and go."
Rick frowned, blue eyes far more emotive (all you could see was regret and pity), "Y/N, I didn't-"
"You didn't what?" You countered, and your voice was cracking, "-You didn't mean to bring up the fact that I watched my family die, right in front of me? Do you think that I don't hate myself every day for not doing anything then?"
Rick didn't say a word.
"-Hate to break it to you, sheriff, but I fucking do."
"Y/N..." he trailed off, blue eyes much calmer, the rage from before dissipating out of his voice.
"No, just-" you cleared your throat, wiping mindlessly at your frustratingly red eyes, "-Let's get this shit done and leave."
From then on, it had been much deeper.
You couldn't stand him, you hadn't been alone with him since. He made your skin crawl and your mind flare up in anger, and sometimes, just sometimes, it would shake your respect for him. Because you did have some, you probably wouldn't even be here, if you didn't.
The funny thing about it all was that you were close to Carl, very close to him. At the prison, after Lori's death, you'd nearly been inseparable. It was kind of like a parent relationship, but at the same time a little like a friend. It made you want to reconcile sometimes, but all you and Rick did was clash.
So much that you started to wonder what a normal conversation was like with him.
And then, you had the run-in with the Claimers.
God, what they'd threatened to do to Carl? You personally would've snapped their spine yourself if you had the chance. But what Rick had done? You couldn't imagine it yourself.
But you knew that he did what he had to. And some part of you wanted to tell him that, despite... despite all of your problems, you knew he needed it.
It was late that night when you decided to talk to him. It was just the two of you awake. You, on purpose, and you just knew Rick would be. Doing that was probably still rattling through his skull, he probably couldn't even close his eyes without-
Your steps were slow and careful, trying not to startle him -he just seemed to be staring. Endlessly staring, and just pacing. Despite it all, you felt something in your chest swirl with worry.
"Rick?" you spoke, gently. Even still, you saw his whole body tense up.
"Please," he muttered, voice low and gravelly -blue eyes heavy on you, "-I don't need your shit right now. I kno' 'at I did somethin' bad, really damn bad. But I just can't deal wit' ya-"
"No, Rick," you interrupted, "-that's not why I'm... That's not what I want to say."
"What do ya want to say, then?"
"You made the right decision," you responded, tone sturdy and unmoving, "-you... you did what you had to."
Rick stilled, something flickering through his face -a flutter of emotions.
"I know, we aren't on the best terms, but-" you rolled your lip around your teeth, "-you're not a monster, Rick."
The silence was loud then, as his blue eyes skimmed over you -carefully. Maybe like he was seeing a new you, or maybe an old one he'd forgotten about. One you'd forgotten about.
"Trust me, I know it feels like it," you added (mind flashing with what you'd done over the years), "-but you did what you had to. You saved your son, and that's all that matters."
He didn't say anything for a moment, trying to process your words. And if you really looked, you might've seen his eyes fogging up a little and the slight drop of tension in his shoulders. A little like he was waiting for someone to tell him that.
And then, he replied, "Thank ya."
You pursed your lips a moment, fidgeting with your hands. You weren't sure what else to say. This was all so new. With a succinct nod, you moved to spin on your heel and lay down for the night.
"Wait," he called, and you turned back to him -eyes inquisitive.
There was a beat.
"-'At day, on the run," he continued, slow and regretful, "-I'm... I'm sorry. I never should 'ave said somethin' like 'at. I never should 'ave brought it up at all. 'Wasn't right of me to."
"Thanks, Rick," you responded, brief but genuine, grateful. You could tell he understood.
Before you could fully turn around though, he added -softer, with something you couldn't quite name, "Goodnight, Y/N."
There was a pleasant hum in your mind at the way he said your name, but you shoved it away. You'd locked all of that far away, a long time ago.
"Night, Grimes," you chimed back, lighter in tone.
He smiled at you then, and something in you gleamed a little from it. Not that you would ever say it out loud.
There was something different after that, a sort of trust or respect. Or maybe something else, you didn't really know. It was there, though.
When you found Alexandria, things shifted a little. Mostly because it was your group against another one, you and Rick were profoundly on the same side. That being said, you still clashed. You weren't sure if it was just the authority of it all, or what? (It might've had a little to do with a blonde wife that he was spending some time with, but you'd never say that out loud.)
"You're seriously not going to let me lead the run?"
"I got Daryl on it," he responded, eyes solely sat on you.
"He's been on all the runs lately," you continued, trying to explain your case, "-Shouldn't this shit be evenly distributed? Have you even talked to Daryl about what he wants? Or are you just assigning us like it's some dictatorship-"
"'Course I damn talked to 'im," he snapped back, and you could see something tired in his eyes, "-everybody gets a say in what 'ey're doin', ya know 'at."
"Except for me," you contradicted, "-you keep giving me the same fucking chores, when I'm useful in other places-"
And he was, he kept you in Alexandria -washing clothes, making dinner, keeping an eye on the people. He made you some kind of mediator between Deanna's people and your own. But you were useful, you shouldn't be locked inside like you couldn't handle yourself. Because you could, and you had before.
"-You know, I scavenged for months before I met you, right? I was alone, and I figured it out."
"I know 'at," he confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could nearly see the stress radiating off him, but you couldn't stop, not then.
"So, so what-" you asked, "-you don't trust me? You don't think I can do it?"
Rick sighed, big and loud -fully facing you, "It ain't 'at, Y/N. I know ya can handle yourself, I've seen it."
"Then, what is the problem, Grimes? I don't get it-"
"Just take the goddamn next run," he groaned, something in his tone broken (and something a little like guilt curled up in your stomach), "-I'll tell Daryl he's switchin'."
You stopped in place, words faltering off your lips. Your will and the fire in your gut extinguished, you suddenly felt very out of place, and a little like the bad guy. You knew you weren't though, but he just looked so tired-
"Okay," you finally responded, a little dumbfounded, "-thanks."
He nodded in your direction and didn't say a word. You took it as a motion to move along, so you did.
Apparently, he might've had a good reason to worry.
It wasn't that first run, or even the second or third, it was the fourth after that conversation that you were stupid. Well, it really wasn't your fault. You thought someone had your back, and they didn't; so, one of the walkers had clawed pretty deep into your arm.
It was bleeding a lot (maybe too much) and probably needed stitches, but you didn't worry about it. Denise could handle it, and you, as a community, were pretty good on medical supplies at this point.
What you didn't expect, was after Denise patched you up for one Rick Grimes to be on your ass.
You were still sitting in her doctor's space (you had no idea what to call it) then, silently trailing your fingers over the bandaging. You could already see some of the blood through the white of it. It made you a little nervous, you won't lie.
And then, the door swung open.
At first, you nearly grabbed for the knife you hid on you -alarmed, assuming it was someone coming to hurt you. Instead, you were met with one Rick Grimes -his face was all scrunched up in that way he always got when he was frustrated.
If there was one thing you could recognize, it was that.
"Rick?" you questioned -carefully, a little shocked by him bursting into the room. Did you do something to him recently?
"'At's why ya can't go on fuckin' runs," he grumbled out -suddenly so angry, it made your head spin.
You furrowed your eyebrows, "What?"
"You're always makin' damn bad decisions," he continued, and something in you bristled. Your defenses were up in an instant.
"What the fuck, Rick?" you countered, "-You don't even know what happened, how the hell do you know it's on me?"
"You're injured," he clarified, a little like he was talking to himself, "-ya made a stupid mistake-"
"How the hell do you know that?" you hissed, "-Do you just think everything that goes wrong has to be my fucking fault, Grimes?"
"-and you're damn hurt."
There was something there in his tone, something different. Your frustration twisted into a little bit of curiosity. What was that?
"I can’t leave ya alone for one second without ya hurting yourself, can I?" He started up again, and it was there again, angry but also... but also-
Your eyes swam over him, and you recognized it then, worry. He was worried about you, you felt something in you stall. It was so different from what you knew from him-
"I mean," you responded, a little awkwardly -unsure (since when did he care so much?), "-I’m fine so it’s okay-"
"No, it’s not okay," he suddenly shot his eyes to you, blue eyes heavy with worry (so much, it shot to your core), "-Not when I feel like I’m goin' to go batshit fuckin' crazy, thinkin' you’ve hurt yourself."
It was silent for a moment, as your mind processed the words. Skimming along his face, as he seemed to do the same -frustration dissipating along his features.
That... That was new.
"It's just some scratches," you spoke -a little lost, you weren't sure exactly what to say. He cared about you that much? Thought about you that much?
Rick's eyes darted to the bandages, which were just about as dark as before -which was just a little, the stitches seemed to stop it mostly. Something in him relaxed, you could tell in his shoulders -the drop of the tension. You couldn't believe that was because of you. When-
"Ya had to get stitches, yeah?" He spoke, suddenly and a bit awkwardly too (like he wasn't sure what to do).
"I did," you confirmed, just looking and something in you felt like you needed to tell him more, so you did, "-Uh, five in one, and three in the other."
He pursed his lips (like he was debating something), before shattering out a breath, "Can I see it?"
"It's already wrapped up," you responded, blankly -you were running a little on autopilot, "-She already-"
"Denise can rewrap it," he offered, stepping closer. Something in your stomach stirred.
You furrowed your eyebrows, "You want to waste medical supplies, just so you can see my wound?"
Rick's lips pressed into a thin line, something in him firing back up, "I'll replace the supplies my damn self, if I 'ave to, just let me see."
You couldn't really say anything, it felt like all the words had washed from your head. Like you couldn't speak if your life was on the line.
He faltered a second, sighing, and his eyes shifted to something softer (a little like pleading), "I... I need to see if ya are alright."
You felt like you were stone -frozen.
"Please."
Your heart lept into your throat (and you let your mind drift somewhere you'd never let it before), "Yeah, okay."
That started the shift.
And he started checking over you after every run, you thought it would've been annoying but... you got used to it. And something in you liked helping him calm down, although you'd never say it out loud.
Things were a little different. You clashed but it wasn't as fiery anymore. Because you knew he cared about you, and somewhere you could acknowledge you cared about him. (More than you'd ever admit.)
This time it wasn't even Rick you were arguing with. It was someone originally from Alexandria. You couldn't even remember their name, but they'd said something about you and you let it slide. But then, they kept going.
"You made a shit call," the guy remarked, sauntering up to your side.
You were a little startled, but you stayed composed, "What are you talking about?"
"We could've gotten more supplies," he continued, "-that gun store was right there, and you called the whole fucking thing off."
You soured -something steeling in your gut, "You mean the one that was swarmed? Hate to break it to you, but we were outnumbered."
"We could've done it," he added -persistent, something frustrated in his tone, "-we had the manpower."
"Are you serious?" you laughed a little incredulously, "-There were three of us, and about 30, 40 maybe, walkers. That is-"
"Maybe you couldn't have done it," he tsked, lips falling in a flat line.
You flexed your jaw, trying to stay composed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You're a sorry fucking excuse for a lead," he gritted through his teeth, "-You don't know shit about-"
"Next time, just go right ahead and do it yourself then," you shot back but stayed still in your space (composed, composed, composed), "-and I don't know about you, but I value life more than something we already fucking have-"
"It's ammunition," he seethed, stepping much closer to you -something sparking behind his eyes, "-Don't know if you fucking know this, but it's pretty damn important to survival-"
"No," you disagreed, voice calm and collected, "-it's not. You don't need to walk into a situation that you can't handle-"
Without warning, a fist flew at your face -right at the nose.
"Shit," you hissed, and you felt the thrum of pain under your skin and could almost immediately taste the coppery taste of blood, "-What the fuck? Why did you-"
"What the hell is goin' on 'ere?"
It was Rick, and his tone was something you'd only heard a few times -blue eyes flickering over you. They held onto your, now bleeding, nose which you were now trying to soothe, and something in his jaw tightened.
The guy was the first one to speak, mostly because you were trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily, Maggie rushed up to your side with paper towels -doing her best to help too.
"They made a mistake on the run-"
Rick didn't let him get far, "So, you punched 'em in the damn face?"
"Well," the guy fell quieter, "-we were arguing-"
Maggie snapped back, shifting her focus for a moment, "You were arguin'."
"No-"
"They were just trying to talk some sense into ya," she continued, tone cold, "-You were the one who took it personally-"
Rick put a hand on her shoulder, eyes flickering toward you -something swimming through them that you recognized from a different day, and Maggie took the notion to stop talking. She turned back to you, and gently guided you to tilt your head forward. On instinct, you pinched your nostrils shut -breathing out of your mouth.
"Even if it was a fuckin' argument," Rick tsked, something cold in his tone, "-there's no damn reason to do 'at. They weren't gettin' violent with ya-"
"How do you know that?"
"Because I kno' 'em," he retorted, "-an' if 'ey got their hands on ya, you wouldn't be standin' in front of me."
You laughed a little and could feel his eyes shoot to you for a second. It made something in your chest flutter, something you were trying desperately to ignore.
"We need to get ya some ice," Maggie spoke, mostly to herself, "-It's already bruisin' up pretty bad."
"'S leave 'is for another day," Rick seemed to exit the conversation with the man, tone unshakable, "-but if I 'ear anythin' else from ya, 'ere's gonna be a problem. Ya got 'at?"
You could almost visually see the way Rick shifted as he made his way over to you. Composure slipping into something more worried, eyebrows furrowing and eyes shining in an entirely different way. Like he couldn't help it, his hands frantically found themselves along your shoulders. It made your skin buzz a little, and made you feel a little woozy. Well, you guessed there could be more than one reason for that.
On that note, you stumbled in place a little, and Rick's hands immediately slid to your sides -stabilizing you. Your heart skipped a beat, stupid fucking handsome men with big fucking hands.
"'Ey, can ya bring a chair over 'ere, please?"
Before you could so much as blink, he was pushing you into it -gently, mind you. Ever-so-gently. And almost on instinct, he fell onto one knee in front of you, trying to hold your eye contact with your head slightly forward, you guessed. His eyes were the same as that day, but there was something else there too, something fuzzier.
"Maggie, ya go get the ice," he turned to her, "-I'll stay with 'em."
She seemed to scamper off because you could tell it was just the two of you. Maybe he'd warded off everyone else, Rick had this... aura to him when he wanted to -a dangerous one. Sometimes you thought it was to balance out his natural nature as a leader.
Quietly, you heard Rick tear off another paper towel and gently wipe at your mouth (where you imagined blood was staining at this point). It was strangely intimate, as you just skimmed over his face.
He was entirely focused on the task, so your eyes roamed along the creases along his face, the blue of his eyes, the sharp line of his nose, the little curls that peeked behind his ears-
You blinked, clearing your thoughts. He was always handsome, you knew that.
"What even is that dick's name?" you questioned, testing to see if your nose had stopped bleeding as much. It had.
Rick smiled a little, looking up at your eyes from where he was focused before (he seemed to be done), "I 'ave no fuckin' clue."
You laughed at that, and if you were honest with yourself thought you saw something shoot through his eyes. Something warm. You ignored it.
"'S hurt?" he spoke, softer.
You responded, simply, "I've had worse."
Rick smiled a little at that, but fell into something more serious, "So, yeah?"
"Like a bitch," you admitted, and he let out a low sort of chuckle.
It made something in you relax, something warm lighting up in your chest. You let yourself feel it this time, just once.
"Just so ya know," he interrupted your thought process, "-'at ain't happenin' again."
You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows -warmth dissipating, "Are you- Are you chastising me right now?"
"No," he quickly responded, but didn't explain further, "-'M just tellin' ya I ain't lettin' it happen again."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Rick paused a second, ripping another paper towel off and dabbing at your nose. It was probably still bleeding a little bit.
You just watched him, waiting for an explanation. Even though, you weren't entirely sure he was going to give you one.
"Anyone touches ya, says anythin' to ya, so much as looks at ya the wrong way-" he listed, tone deadly serious (it shook through your skull), "-ya come get me, and I’ll set 'em straight. Understand?"
Your mouth moved before you could stop it, "What?"
"I'll handle it," he repeated, pulling away the paper towel and locking eyes with yours, "-It ain't happenin' again."
"Rick," you laughed -incredulously, and maybe a little defensive, "-I don't need a fucking guard dog. I can handle myself."
"'Didn’t say 'at," he hummed, carefully, eyes skimming along your face -a little like he was in wonder (it made your head spin a second), "-'S for me, not ya."
"How does that-"
"If 'ey're fuckin' with ya, 'ey're fuckin' with me," he interrupted, eyes so solid that you couldn't really look away, "-you can handle it how ya want, but Imma 'ave some choice words of my own. So, send 'em my way too."
The words faltered in your throat, something swirling around your heart. He was just so-
The coppery taste again.
You shriveled up your nose in disgust, and Rick laughed at it (something gleaming in his eye), as you reacted -spitting the taste out into the dirt.
"Yeah, keep laughing, Grimes," you tsked, but there was no bite, not really. Not like there used to be, "-I'll beat the shit out of you."
"'Ere's no doubt in my mind," he retorted back, smiling in a way that crinkled at the eyes. You thought for a spare second it was a beautiful one, that maybe he was beautiful.
After that day, you'd say that everything was a little confusing.
These feelings towards Rick were far from new, very far. They'd always kind of been in the very back of your mind. Part of you was actually pretty sure that hating him had in some way distanced you from what you felt otherwise. Now, that is to say, you had definitely hated him at one point. That just didn't mean that it erased the... other thing.
You and Rick were off-kilter. Or at least you were. You guessed you couldn't say anything about him, he was very much a mystery to you at this point.
He just kept doing things. Like the scratch and nosebleed. And every time he'd smile at you a bit warmer, say something you couldn't really avoid. Not anymore. (And you weren't sure you wanted to avoid, honestly.)
And he'd looked at you a lot more, searched you out (when before you used to shun each other, avoid each other), and just smiled at you sometimes for no reason. The thing was you didn't mind it. You wanted him to. Because you... because it was all different.
You were confused, but you weren't going to be the one to encroach on it. It all felt so surreal, that one day something would happen and you'd just snap right back into place -just like before. To be fair, you still argued. But, it was moreso bickering now. And even if it wasn't, before you could get as heated as you used to, you compromised -easily.
You slotted together perfectly and bounced off each other with ease. Hell, he started coming to you about running Alexandria, about problems he couldn't quite get. And the two of you would talk until you worked out a solution. Because you always did.
It made no sense why you'd even clashed in the first place.
You were confused, beyond confused. And you wanted things, wanted to ask things, but they seemed dangerous. Far away-
That brought you here, on a night when you couldn't sleep. Which were more frequent nowadays, if you were completely honest. This whole situation made your mind run for a lot of different reasons, and when it wasn't that, it was nightmares. Alexandria was safe, you knew that, but it didn't necessarily stop your fight or flight -the urge to constantly be on edge, protect.
So, sometimes you sat here on the steps of your porch in the night -the chill and silence of it soothed you. It wouldn't always get you back to sleep, but it would make you feel better. Remind yourself that you're breathing. That you're alive.
You exhaled, trailing your finger along the wood of the railing beside you -absorbing the low buzz of bugs in the air and the strangely familiar groans of walkers outside the walls. It was kinda fucked up that it calmed you down, but you gave yourself a pass.
"Funny seein' ya 'ere."
Your eyes shot up and latched onto his.
The Grimes house was just a couple of houses down, diagonal to yours. So, you could see him, but not entirely clearly.
He was leaning on the porch railing, you could see the sleeves of his jacket against the starch white, and his hair seemed a little messy -your eyes trailed over a particular curl. It was hanging slightly down in front of his face. (You got the urge to fix it, comb it back into place.)
"'Could say the same to you, Grimes," you replied.
You saw him smile, dropping his head to look at the ground. It made something in your chest flutter. But, before you could say anything else, he was stepping down from his porch and making his way to you.
As he got closer you recognized that he was in pajamas with just a jacket thrown over.
He stood just at the bottom of the stairs, leaning onto the railing slightly and just looking at you. Like he always did these days. With worry and... something else.
"Nightmare?" he questioned, genuinely.
You rolled your lip around your teeth, deciding to say, "Kind of."
Rick's lips pressed into a frown, eyes glazing along your face (you didn't look back at him), "Can I sit?"
You were wordless, but moved slightly to the left (despite not really needing to) as unspoken acceptance. He stared at you for a second longer, before slowly but surely making his way to the steps. He sat closer to you than you thought he would've, but it was almost in character of him to do something that surprises you so.
"Ya cold?"
On cue, you shivered slightly, "I've had worse."
Rick let out a low sigh (he knew you well now), nudging off his jacket and hanging it squarely on your shoulders without hesitation. His eyes trailed over you wearing it for a moment, a small look in his eyes that you couldn't name. All shiny as his lips quirked up just a smidgen.
"You don't have to do that," you objected, but it was quiet and weak.
"I want to," he replied, simply.
You couldn't argue with that. Hell, you didn't think you could argue with him anymore-
Rick interrupted the thought, eyebrows furrowed in that kind of way you knew to be worried, "What do ya mean 'kinda'?"
You took a second, staring out into the night -listening to the silence.
"My mind won't stop," you clarified, "-sometimes it's... things I've done, and other times it's... things that I just can't seem to figure out."
"What's it today?"
You pursed your lips a minute, before answering, "Something I can't figure out."
He stared at you, blue eyes flickering along your face in a hazy sort of way. It made something unfurl in your chest that you'd tried to keep shoved down, "Is 'ere anythin' I can do to help?"
You ran the idea through your head a few times, and let your eyes match him a few more. You aren't entirely sure why, but talking to Rick fel a little like he'd never judge you. Even though he had before, it was... it was now. Things were very different.
"Can I ask you a question?" you spoke, then, deflecting a little.
"Shoot," he responded, almost instantly. ( A little like he'd do anything you'd ask.)
"What happened to us?"
Rick's eyebrows furrowed, and you took it as a motion to keep talking, to explain. So, you did.
"We used to-" you dropped your hands on your lap, and stared out into the Alexandrian streets, "-We used to scream at each other until our faces turned red. We couldn't stand each other, and now..."
"'At ain't a good thing?" he questioned, something in his tone a little disappointed (it made your head swirl a little), "-'At it changed, I mean."
"It is," you reassured, facing him a second, "-but I just... Isn't it confusing?"
Rick stayed silent a second, eyes smoothing along your face. Just looking, like maybe he thought you were beautiful (just like you did on that day), or maybe like he never wanted to forget what you looked like.
"No."
You pressed your lips together.
"Don't get me wrong," he clarified with a smile, "-I hated ya once, a long time ago. But 'is? Now? It makes sense."
You asked before you could think about it, "What is 'this'?"
He just stared at you a second, something flickering through his eyes, careful and considerate. Something warm. The warmth you kept seeing now, the one you tried to avoid.
"You," he answered, vaguely, "-Us."
"What does that mean?" you asked, your confusion was ever-so-clear. This was all things you didn't understand.
He didn't say anything, as you stared out into the streets -watching some of the porch lights flicker. The night sky was still dark, so you weren't really worried about the hour.
And then, you felt calloused fingers on your chin -guiding you back to his eyes. The thoughts cleared out of your head.
"Y/N, you drive me fuckin' crazy," he laughed a little, and you felt your eyebrows furrow, "-not just in a frustratin' sorta way. You... I worry about ya like crazy, I think of ya like crazy... I care 'bout ya like crazy-"
Your heart skipped a beat.
"-an' I... I love ya like crazy."
Your lips felt stitched shut, as he just smiled at you -something in his eyes that you could see now. You could identify.
"Ya poke and prod at me until I'm reelin', yeah, but-" he pressed his lips together, eyes shimmering across your face, "-I wouldn't 'ave it any other fuckin' way. An' I mean 'at. I just... I'm not me without ya annoyin' the shit out of me. Without ya callin' me out on my shit."
You laughed, something burning the backs of your eyes, "I am the only one who would do that, huh?"
"Ya are," he grinned at you, and you felt something in your chest squeeze tight.
It felt clear then, abundantly clear.
"I love you too, Grimes."
He grinned, the big kind that crinkled at the eyes, "Thought so."
You rolled your eyes, with no bite, "Oh shut up, sheriff. I could still kick your ass, and you would deserve it."
He laughed, the genuine kind -hand coming to cradle your cheek, "Still, don't doubt it, sweetheart."
You smiled, and noticed just how close the two of you were. He only seemed to be roaming closer, and it made your heartbeat pick up in your chest a little. Before you could stop it, your eyes dipped down to his lips.
He grinned again, the kind that rattle down to your core, all handsome and shiny white teeth. And then, he started moving closer, his own eyes dipping to your lips.
"Ya kno', I can think of a way to get me to shut up."
"Can you?" you teased, quiet between the two of you.
He just hummed, distracted. It made something in your stomach stir.
"I am pretty desperate for you to," you remarked -playfully.
Rick busted into laughter, a loud kind that you barely ever heard from him. It made something in your chest shimmer, proud. You kind of wanted to hear that forever. And now, maybe you could.
The thought made you grin, as you leaned forward, impatiently, and connected your lips to his. It was just a press of lips, but you did feel him lean into it. Before you could get far, he laughed even more, breaking off the kiss, and it made you laugh.
"'Course ya can't wait for one second," he chuckled -playfully, "-You've always been so damn impatient."
"Oh, fuck you, Grimes," you laughed into the night, "-You're lucky I don't-"
And this time, he shut you up.
#its griming time#rick grimes#stuff n' thangs#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x y/n fanfiction#twd#twd rick grimes#rick grimes fanfiction#he's such a pretty liar
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okay so that last last post you made said Dammon had a scent kink, but what about Rolan and Zevlor?
mmmmmmmm listen okay i enjoyed this too much honestly but i feel like i could literally write an entire fic centered around Dammon the panty stealer okay. idk why it just calls to me. so thank you hehe
Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Scent Kink
very NSFW, adult themes, etc etc. MDNI/18+
Tiefling boys and getting off to Tav's scent
Dammon:
I’ve made my feelings on this known before, but the man is dirty! I honestly feel like the smutty book he has in his room is one of the tamer ones he owns, somehow. And then he literally smells the malfunctioning components of Karlach’s heart, so we know he has a good nose. Put them together and the scent kink just makes sense!
He's not just interested in the pretty scents either– how they smell like flowers right after a wash or how their hair always seems to bring with it the scent of a campfire. No, it’s all of them.
The way they smell after sex: the salty, earthiness of their sweat as it mixes with the floral perfume of their soap.
How they come into the forge with a tangy musk after having ran around all day in their warm armor.
Even the bitter metallic odor that permeates their clothes after trying to wash all the blood out.
It never fails to stir something in him deep down, like a primal instinct to lay them bare and take them like a wild animal.
His favorite scent though? Their arousal.
Maybe it’s because he’s a tiefling with a superior sense of smell, but the way they smell when they get heated, wetness pulling in their smallclothes. It raises the hairs on his neck with pure want.
Dammon isn’t proud of it, but when Tav isn’t around he’ll steal a pair of their underthings that haven’t made it to the wash yet (only if they’re in a relationship of some sort, okay he’s not an animal) so that he can really enjoy himself. The smell alone makes him so hard he can feel the wet spot forming in his own pants.
He’ll touch himself right then and there with nothing but Tav’s scent in his nose and his hand around his cock. And it’s the hardest orgasm he’s ever been able to give himself.
But Tav always ends up wondering where their underwear went? They know they had more when they moved in with Dammon!
Rolan:
Rolan will never, ever admit he enjoys a good filthy sniff or two. Even to himself. Nope, he’s not some ‘degenerate’, thank you.
And to be fair he isn’t as down bad as Dammon. I think out of the three, he’s the least likely to have a true scent kink.
He can be a little pretentious at times, and definitely doesn’t like what he considers to be bad odors. Things like potent, musky sweat just aren’t his cup of tea to be honest.
He’ll enjoy the smell of Tav’s clothes because it reminds him of home for some reason, and he always ends up feeling at ease when the minty smell of their breath washes over him.
But he’s a total sucker for the smell of sex.
The way the room smells head and organic after they’ve just fucked over his desk.
Or the smell of their sheets as their cum and arousal and sweat all mix together.
Makes him ready for another round almost immediately.
When he’s alone and touching himself, he’ll sometimes stop to smell the sheets just to try and catch a whiff of the last time they had sex. I’m talking on all fours, nose pressed into the bed, hand around himself desperately.
Nothing ever makes him throb as hard as when he goes down on Tav, their slick on his hands and chin and lips. When he’s absolutely positive that Tav is too far gone to notice, he’ll sit and take in the sweet musk of their wetness, it makes his mouth water like the bouquet of a fine wine.
Tav jokes that Rolan gets a renewed vigor for oral after they cum the first time, but they never know why that is.
Zevlor:
Alright Zevlor fuckers this may be controversial. But. Zevlor is BIG into sweat. I just know it. He has to have some dirty secrets up his sleeves somewhere!
Like, you know the way someone smells after a long day in the sun outside? Kind of like dirt and warmth and just a tinge of bitterness?
That shit drives him mad. Feral.
I don’t even think he realizes it for a while. He just thinks he’s particularly pent up on those days and that’s why he’s taking Tav into the bedroom at his first chance, or furiously tugging himself off after they get home.
But one day they’re both in bed, sweating and breathless and sore. Zevlor leans in to kiss them and instinctively takes a whiff of them. And it’s almost a bad smell but not quite, it’s uniquely Tav. It makes him groan out loud.
It’s very clear to him after that.
He’s like Dammon: a clothes thief. But his go to is shirts, especially after an intense day of training or after an incredibly hot day.
He will never, ever let Tav see this though. It’s too ungentlemanly and he would actually rather combust into flames than let them in on this little quirk of his.
That still doesn’t stop him from using their shirt to get himself off on days when they’re out of the city or when he’s sure he won’t be interrupted.
#bg3#bg3 smut#bg3 dammon#bg3 rolan#bg3 zevlor#rolan#dammon#zevlor#dammon x tav#rolan x tav#zevlor x tav#baldur's gate 3#requests/suggestions#lemonandhoneytea#my writing
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𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮
Tags: midoriya izuku x gn!reader,angst, breakup, swearing, ft bakugou,
It's been 4 months since your break up with Izuku, and you wish you could get over him. Lucky, you realised, if you could just erase everything from your head.
One word: Lucky.
Pretty pink ribbons and a flash of green. Rosy cheeks and laughter so sweet it chokes you.
Oh.
Your eyes lift to see Uravity greeting Deku with a smile that is brimming with such love that it makes you want to throw up. They're at it again.
The gifts and the bentos are bad enough, but the phone calls, the text messages, the team-ups.
It's everywhere like a plague with medicine; a virus with no vaccine-it's suffocating.
"Oh, Izuku," Uravity's soft voice breaks in, so innocent and perfectly surprised when Izuku brings out a bouquet of roses.
Third time this week but, hey, who's counting?
"These are lovely," She giggles, taking them and inhaling deeply. I'm not going to have enough vases for all the ones you're giving me."
"Then we should hit that florist Friday morning to get some more," Izuku replies easily, green eyes lighting up. "Your morning is free, right?"
"Sometimes I think you know my schedule better than me." Uravity teases. And oh, how vanilla it is to see the Number One flustered by his picture-perfect girlfriend.
You distinctly remember taking interview lessons when in U.A to evade paparazzi advances, but there's no training that can save Deku from being at the mercy of Uravity's words.
He bends his back over for everything with a pulse, but he bends furthest back for his girlfriend because that's who Deku is.
Lucky.
"Shortie?"
Vermillion red meets your blank stare, so you stare back. "Bakugou."
His searching eyes trace your gaze, and he pieces things together like it's elementary.
"It's been 4 months."
Since the breakup.
"You're still not over him-"
"I am."
Bakugou lets out a snort. "Yeah, real over him."
And in a flash, your fingers are grasping his collar and you're dragging his face closer to yours.
"I'm. Over. Him." You hiss.
You give him your most vacant stare, your steeliest tone. "I don't love him. I hate his face, his eyes, and his shitty, sunshine personality. His smile is the most hideous thing that I wish I could scrub from my memory and I hope I can blast my eardrums before I can hear his laughter for the nth time this week. Now for God's sake Katsuki Bakugou. Fuck off."
You hope that as you convince him, you'd gaslight yourself.
Bakugou's gaze is unwavering. No softening, no sympathy because hello, this is Katsuki Bakugou. Instead, he stares back unwaveringly, not backing down from your gaze. "Izuku misses you. He wants you back, as a friend."
Your grasp loosens on Bakugou's hero costume, and he adjusts it as he stands back at full height. "Get-together with Class A at the usual bar. Denki shot you a text, said you never replied."
You flop down on the seat of your tiny office, stationed right opposite Deku's.
You were one of the best heroes in the agency, and Deku recognised it. Fuck him, honestly.
"I'm not going." You reply.
"I'm going."
"I don't care."
"I'm knocking some fuckin' sense into you, alright, so dial back the sass." Bakugou growls. "My idiot friends care about you, so suck it up and let them care about you. It's been 4 damn months, so get a grip and move on. Stop trying to cut everything out of your life just because the nerd is there."
A twig snaps. A volcano erupts. Something happens, because your hands are numb and your laugh is bitter.
"They're your friends, Bakugou. I was just the plus-one, the lucky girlfriend, second to Deku. I'm not part of your little clique. I'm not part of your class. I was never meant to be there."
Your eyes cut through his gaze like knives, and if Katsuki looks hard enough, maybe he can see the harsh words are just a mask for your sorrow. A facade to block out the hurt and the isolation for not being the right person.
For being just another lesson, an ex, an outsider to their story.
Maybe, if he looks hard enough, he could see the pain building behind your eyes. "I'm not playing second fiddle to a guy who told me I wasn't enough. He wants to be friends? For such a thoughtful guy, he sure is dense."
Poisoned water in a desert, a peace offering of a patronising smile and victories shoved in front of your face. Haven't you suffered enough?
"Goodbye, Bakugou." You grit out, eyes ablaze. "And don't ever tell me how to run my life again."
The door slams shut, and Bakugou runs a hand through his hair. That breakup really did change you.
Because a little under 5 months ago, he still remembers the way your eyes lit up at Deku's name. The way your eyes would sparkle when you were asked about him, and you would say, honey-sweet.
"I love him. I love his face, his eyes, and his wonderful sunshine personality. His smile is the most beautiful thing in the world that I wish I could tattoo it in my memory and I hope I can keep making him happy so I can hear his laughter for the nth time this week. He's great, seriously. I'm the luckiest person in the world."
---
I was feeling toxic today. And hangry.
#mha#mha fanfiction#my hero academia#deku x reader#deku#mha deku#midoriya angst#bnha midoriya#midoriya izuku#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya#mha angst#angst#bakugo katuski#katsuki bakugou
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Could you do a bratty F!reader with 2009 Tom. Like the reader and him are enemies and she gets bratty with him at a party, and he takes her to a room and like fucks her hard! and she like sucks his dick!!! I am sorry if it's not enough context!!!
omg yes sure
Secret
PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader
CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT
SYPNOSIS: Tom and you have been enemies for so long, you, him and his brother Bill go to a party together and when Tom sees you dancing with another guy he gets PISSED. He grabs you and pulls you away, you argue and then get freaky hehehe
A/N: i love all ur requests! this doesn't apply to the person above but can everyone please use detail when wanting a fic? I love knowing what you want specifically and it helps me a lot
WARNINGS: tom!dom, reader!sub, p in v (missionary), degrading, sucking d, tit playing, rough kissing
Me and Bill stepped into the party, searching around for alcohol, we had come with his fuckass brother Tom, we have been enemies for so long. I don't know how it started, we've been friends since we were 6 and he was fine until puberty. Then he became bitter and cold, I don't know why but it honestly hurt, I missed the old him.
I hated how Tom treated me, whenever I was excited about something he'd put me down, making fun of me. The weird thing though is he got mad when others made fun of me? But I always ignored it, lately I've been giving him an attitude back, he deserves it. We get into such heated arguments I sometimes imagine him fucking me roughly. (foreshadowing!!!)
I grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring multiple shots for me and Bill, "oi! where is mine?" Tom yelled at me, shoving the glass into my face, "fuck off Tom get your own!" I smacked his hand away and downed the shots, the liquid burning as it slipped down my throat.
"Whatever..verdammte schlampe" he muttered under his breath, I rolled my eyes and turned to Bill, "what is his fucking problem? He always has an attitude with me" I sighed, Bill shrugged "don't know, guess he's always been that way with you" I scoffed and took another shot.
'Well fuck him, he's not going to ruin my night" Bill chuckled and clinked glasses with me, downing yet another shot with me. My head was getting hazy, vision slightly blurring. "Let's dance!" I said, slurring slightly and grabbing Bills hand, running to where everyone else was dancing.
Sweaty and horny bodies dancing against each other, I decided to stick with Bill, dancing to the music, jumping up and down and laughing loudly.
Bill grabbed my hips and grinded into me, we were laughing the whole time, knowing that it all a joke. I glanced over to Tom and saw him clenching his fists, I furrowed my eyebrows and just ignored him. He was probably looking at another girl, afterall he hates my guts.
After dancing with Bill for a while he disappeared to the toilet, probably hooking up with someone. I was dancing on my own and then felt a random guy grab my hips, pulling me in close and grinding on me. I grinned, knowing Tom was watching, secretly wanting him to be jealous.
I started to grind against the guy, matching the rhythm of the music, swaying my body passionately against his. Reaching my hands back to his shoulders as he kissed my neck roughly, throwing my head back as he found my sweet spot, continously sucking it.
I moaned softly as he grabbed my hips tighter, spinning me around, I smirked, resting my hands on his shoulders again and diving my face into his neck, kissing it passionately, leaving small hickey marks.
I turned around and started to grind against him again, lowering onto the floor and coming back up.
I glanced at Tom and saw his eyes narrowing, filled with rage. I rolled my eyes and continued to dance with the guy. Suddenly I felt a strong hand gripping against my wrist and looked up, seeing Tom. "Get off me Tom!" I tried to pull my hand back to no avail. "Hey! Piss off man!" the guy spoke up, Tom huffed out and punched the guy, I gasped "Tom what the-" "shut up! come with me, now." he said sternly, cutting me off. I obliged as he dragged me to a secluded spot.
"What the fuck was that?" He yelled, pinning me to the wall. I narrowed my eyes "the fuck do you mean? Can I not dance?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes and looking away. He grabbed my face and turned it to look at him "quit being such a fucking brat, you're mine, I don't want to see you with other guys" he pushed his face closer to mine, staring deeply into my eyes, "I'm not yours Tom and I never will be" I glared at him, testing his patience.
His chest heaved up and down, pulling away and dragging me into an empty bedroom, slamming it shut with such force the floor trembled slightly, he locked it and pushed me onto the bed, my eyes widened as he stood over me, smirking darkly. "Take your fucking clothes off, now." he demanded, I bit my lip and grinned, zipping my dress down and taking it off. Revealing my black, lace thong and my bare tits.
"Such a fucking slut, hm?" he stepped closer, climbing on top of me, his fingers trailing down my cleavage and then to my tits, circling his fingers around my sensitive nipples, flicking and pinching the buds. "Tom.." I panted out, squeezing my eyes shut.
He latched his lips onto them, sucking roughly and biting softly, teasing me to a maximum. I moaned softly and grabbed onto his braids, tugging them roughly, my back arching at the pleasure.
He traced small circles down my stomach to my pussy, grabbing onto my thong and ripping it off, I gasped "hey! that was fucking expen-" he huffed out "shut up! I'll get you another one" he grabbed my legs and pulled me closer to him. He unbuckled his belt, shoving his pants down, leaving him in his boxers. He smirked and pressed his erection against my leg, leaning down and kissing me roughly.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss with as much passion, our lips smashing together and locking in a intense embrace. Grabbing my hips roughly, leaving cresent shaped marks on my waist and butt. He bit my lips, making me gasp as he smiled, taking the chance to slip his tongue in, licking a stripe off of it
Our tongues fought for dominance, swirling against each other. We were basically eating each others faces. He let go for a moment, taking his cock out of his boxers and alligning himself with my entrance, I looked up at him nervously, he kissed my cheek softly and pushed himself in, bottoming himself out, I groaned loudly as he stretched me out, my hands flying to his arms. "Fuck!" I moaned, he quickly shut me up by smashing his lips into mine again, thrusting roughly, in and out of my pussy.
His cold, metal piercing brushing against my lips roughly as we slobbered on each other, not daring to break the kiss. "You're so fucking sexy..meine schlampe" he muttered against my lips as he pounded into me roughly. Hitting that gummy spot in me repeatedly.
I withdrew from the kiss, throwing my head back and moaning loudly. Both of our lips swollen and red from kissing so roughly. He smirked down at me, rubbing my swollen clit softly as his hips slammed against mine harshly. I bit my lip and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.
"Fuck!" I yelled out in pleasure, digging my nails into his arms savagely, he groaned, enjoying the pain and shoving his face into my tits again, licking and sucking my nipples brutally. I whimpered as his cock slammed in and out of me faster now, his pace unmerciful.
I screamed out in pleasure, my heat tightening against his cock, signalling my climax. He smirked and retraced from both my clit and tits, focusing on the buldge that shifted up and down in my stomach, his eyes widened as he pressed down on it, causing me to moan loudly "How many cocks have been this deep inside you, hm?" his voice demanding, I cried out "none!", he smirked, his cock throbbing in me.
"G'nna cum!" I gasped, feeling the tension build in him too. "Cmon baby...cum for me" he grabbed my hair roughly, I moaned loudly, my orgasm washing over me, releasing all over him. He groaned and pushed his cock deep into me one last time, squirting his thick cum into my hole and coating my walls. I sighed and crashed into the mattress.
"Come here, get on your knees" he said, breathing heavily. He grabbed my legs and dragged me off the bed, getting me onto my knees. I looked up at him and opened my mouth, he chuckled "such a good slut" he shoved his cock in and I began bobbing my head up and down, sucking harshly.
I moaned on his dick, slobbering and swallowing his cock. Saliva building up on my face. Mascara filled tears running down my face urgently, I felt Toms thumbs come down on my cheeks, rubbing the mascara tears roughly, creating a mess.
I didn't care though, I needed his cock. Being deprived from it for so many years made me act up so much once I finally got the chance. I continued to bob my head up and down ruthlessly, squelching sounds coming from his cock as all the saliva built up.
I gagged and choked as his tip hit the back of my throat, rolling my eyes back. "Fuck..so good.. gonna cum baby keep going.." his hand reached down to my head, guiding it on his cock. Pushing it ever so slightly.
His breathing became ragged, his legs twitching slightly. I knew he was close and smirked, sucking harder and faster. Gaining a reaction out of him that fueled me deeply, he moand loudly, slightly whimpering.
With one last thrust he came hardly, pushing his cock to the back of my throat where he shot his hot seed down into my throat, "swallow." he demanded and I obliged, swallowing and sticking out my tongue to show him, he chuckled and pulled me up, grabbing a tissue and wiping my mouth and pussy. "Get dressed, we're leaving" he enforced.
I walked over to my dress and put it on, grabbing my purse and shoes. I went over to the mirror and gasped, I looked like a mess, my hair scruffy and my makeup smudged, he chuckled at my reaction "now everyone will know you're mine", I giggled, fixing my hair and grabbing his hand, walking out with him.
Bill was outside, waiting for us, once he saw me his eyes widened. We got into the car and Bill suddenly spoke up "I see we had fun, that's good, I guess Tom you didn't ruin her night afterall" he chuckled, teasing us. "Shut up Bill" Tom grunted and drove off home.
Toms hand stayed on my thigh the whole drive home, at a red light he looked over to me and smiled softly, rubbing his thumb softly over the skin.
E/N: should I do a part 2 of this like a happy ending that would be so cute, comment yes if i should
#tom kaulitz#tokiohotel#bill kaulitz#georg listing#gustav schäfer#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz angst#smut#angst#degrading k1nk#sloppyblowjob#blowjov#deep thr0at#rough smut#roughfuck
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