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eddiernunson · 3 months

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Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves... difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie's general appearance, unprotected piv, against the wall fucking, deep throating, daddy kink

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when | wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie's energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

Thanks for the hype on the preview! Hopefully this lives up to the hype

Thanks so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie ❤️

As the night swallows you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car as she drives you to the ER. While roughhousing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by, you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask you to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information, gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sitting in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain after each bout. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called as you look at memes and watch videos with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick to someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally into the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Something about him is just so enticing, drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage station, wandering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and grey tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

You spend the next few minutes convincing yourself that it was all in your head, and that for all he knew you were zoned out and happened to be zoned out on him. It feels like a reach, especially with his torso as revealed as it was.

Time itself blurs as you zone out on your phone, attempting to distract yourself from your thumping heart and the arousal that pools into your cotton underwear. A shift in movement catches your eye, blurred and black in your periphery.

Your eyes by reflex glance up, catching a glimpse of him slouching in his chair, a foot resting on the other as knee he uses wired headphones and stares at whatever’s on his phone. Somehow, his confidence at making himself at home is still attractive, drool gathering in your mouth.

You look down at your phone before he catches you again, this visit at the ER sending a thrill through you that you didn’t expect in the least.

More and more people get called to the back, and you're still stuck waiting. Everyone who you’ve told is surprised to say the least that it’s been hours and you’re still just in the waiting room. You don’t mind though, sneaking glances at the beautiful stranger has become your favourite pastime.

Four hours in, if someone asked your highlight it would be when he head-banged to whatever assumingly heavy metal band he listens to. By the time the nurse calls your name to the back, it takes a strong second place.

About twenty minutes pass before it’s your turn for a bed, and you are let your eyes wander around, now bored of your phone. As they do, they catch sight of the man you’ve kept an eye on yawning in a big stretch. What this yawn has you so captivated by is the sliver of skin his stretch reveals, and the curly brown treasure trail that peeks from just above the hem of his low sitting jeans.

Your mouth floods with saliva. With your mouth agape and eyes subtly widened, you can’t help but gawk at him. Something about the way you suddenly picture yourself pulling him into the bathroom to nuzzle into his hair takes you aback just a little bit.

Time slows down for you, stretching into hours, but it's only seconds. Finally, as his body relaxes from the stretch you turn your eyes back to his face, hoping he didn’t see your fleeting glance. Startlingly, his eyes are already on yours. This time you can’t find it in you to look away in embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he smirks right at you, and you swear his brown eyes darken a shade.

This time for sure, he caught you. He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, arms crossing over his chest as he keeps his smug expression right on you.

It’s hard to resist the smile as you go back to your phone, promising to yourself that you will remember his face for as long as you can.

Eddie thanks Gareth for dropping him off at the hospital, gritting his teeth at the slight pain stretching his torso gives him.

As he wanders into the hospital, his eyes take in the crowded waiting room and he groans, wishing the wound wasn’t so fucking deep.

He got stabbed. He got fucking stabbed. Wayne is going to kill him when he finds out he got into a fight, especially one where knives were in the crossfire. He couldn’t even say how the situation got so heated so quickly, just another fight in a parking lot after a deal goes sour.

The guy pulled a fucking knife on him, pushed it into his torso and ran off with the goods before Eddie could even realize he had been harmed.

All for fucking weed. Wasn’t even cocaine!

It takes a stupid amount of time for him to finally get to the nurse. She tells him to sit down for his vitals, and he refuses, wanting to show the wound and get it out of the way.

He lifts his shirt at her request, showing the darkened gauze and hissing as she takes a closer look at the wound when it’s removed. Eddie realizes the irony of exposing his chest in the triage, looking up to face the windows that allow other patients to see through.

He does a quick scan of the room, no one having seemed to notice how he’s shirtless. No one, but you. He saw you when he walked in, you were on your phone with one earbud in as you tapped your feet to whatever beat you were listening to. He thought you were cute, his mouth twitching in a smile as he notices you’re cradling one arm across your chest.

It couldn’t have been confused with zoning out, your mouth in a small O shape you openly stare at him. The look you have on your face is enough to turn Eddie on a little, having the urge to caress your face as you look up at him with those same wide eyes. His mouth twitches as he thinks of it, the thought enough to distract him from the shooting pain in his chest.

Your eyes dart away as soon as it registers that he’s looking back at you. His smile widens even more as you sink in your seat, your eyes glazing over as you scroll through your phone. Made him want to embarrass you more, in much worse ways.

After the nurse takes his vitals, he’s instructed to sit down, thanking some deity that the seat across from you is freed. You’re keeping yourself distracted, much to his dismay, so kicks his shoe to grab your attention, placing it on his other knee.

It works as well as he hopes, your eyes flickering up to him. He can’t help but look as if he can’t be bothered. In the corner of his eye, you look back to your own phone, biting your lip.

Eddie spends the next little bit getting your attention however he can, wondering how much it takes for your eyes to wander back to him. By trial and error, not much. He turns on a heavy metal band, nodding his head enthusiastically to the loud drum beats.

As time goes on, he gets more bored and waits impatiently for his name to be called. He figured stitches would be a priority, no? It’s past his bedtime, he decides, as he yawns a big stretch, despite the pain he causes for himself.

As he does, he catches the way your eyes are glued to him, particularly the strip of skin his shirt lifts to show. In real time, Eddie witnesses your eyes glaze over and how your teeth nervously graze your bottom lip. Whatever was on your mind, he desperately wanted to know, mesmerized at the way your throat swallows.

Finally, you make eye contact with him, and Eddie needs to let you know how much he just saw, your lust for him clear as day. He can’t lie, the feeling is entirely mutual, the look on your face is something he wants to see over and over as he rails— he’s getting ahead of himself.

Instead, he opts for a smirk, admiring the way your pretty eyes hold his gaze this time. He relaxes back into his chair, daring you to say something as he smiles with a hint of satisfaction…and all the cockiness his body can handle.

You shyly look back at your phone, failing to hide the smile that invades your face. It takes Eddie a moment to gain the courage, but he finally decides he can’t let you go if he's nursing a hard on in the fucking waiting room from your gaze alone.

By the time he finds a pen and paper to give your number, he’s writing it down when the nurse calls your name.

Eddie sighs, watching your ass in those jeans as you walk away. Just his luck.

As the new year passes, the memory of the hot stranger in the waiting room fades, much to your dismay.

The very night you had a dream where he meets you in some sort of dark room, tugging down your jeans you were wearing and wrapping those hands around your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Your hyperventilating mixed with the way your cunt spasmed as you came woke you up, taking a minute to catch your breath. That morning you groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more but to track him down.

Days passed and soon you’re in the grocery store, arm still wrapped for another week as you walk around the store for some basics. Milk, eggs, bread, all on your mother’s tab, of course. You were two seconds away from pushing your small cart to the checkout counter when you remember you're out of mouthwash.

As you try to decide whether to grab the one you liked which was not on sale or the one that was, a set of footsteps pass and settle right next to you, the customer also assessing mouth hygiene products.

The person's foot tapped, and by reflex you switch your glance down to the sound, and immediately recognize the boots. Your head moves up so fast you swear you give yourself whiplash to his face, facing the shaggy locks you found yourself obsessed with that night in the ER.

“Oh shit” you say out loud, before you could even stop it.

His eyes flicker to yours and recognize you off the bat. His smile gives way to deep dimples. He’s exactly as hot as you remember, if not more.

Of course, you can’t find it in yourself to assume he recognizes you, even if his eyes spell it out for you. “Sorry, I-I just remember you from the ER last month. How’s that stab wound?”

He chuckles, something that makes your legs clench together. “Uh, it’s better.” He comments, lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Is it unnecessary for Eddie to show his stitches? Absolutely. Did he do it for the visual reaction he missed so much? Also, yes.

Unfortunately, his bare waist is gone as soon as it appears, barely giving you a second to take in the purple stitches. You bite your lip as you glance at his face, his smirk displayed almost driving a whimper out of you.

“How’s your arm?”

“What?” You ask, incredibly distracted by the everything about him.

He chuckles pointing to the wrapped arm you can’t use as you shopped but to push the cart. “Oh, one more week then I’m free.” You comment, indicating the gauze.

“That’s good.” He comments, switching his glance back to the toothbrushes he was glancing at earlier.

How are you already messing this up? Might as well cut your losses. “Alright, nice seeing you, again.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He says, grabbing at your uninjured arm before you make your hasty exit. Your eyes peer at him curiously, wondering what he could’ve possibly wanted. “Here,”

His hands move to the leather jacket and grab a folded piece of paper to hand out to you. “What’s that?”

“My number” he answers, stating the obvious. “Shoot me a text, call me, I don’t care. Just do it. Please.”

“You’re really giving your number on a piece of paper?” You ask, tilting your head and forgetting your nervousness for two seconds. “What is this, 1986?”

He laughs, deep and whole, and for some reason it causes a heart palpitation. “Yeah, I guess I am. I planned on giving it to you at the ER, but the nurse whisked you away before I could.”

“Huh?” You ask, your brain short circuiting.

He laughs again as you accept the number, your hands holding onto it tightly as if it might disappear. He picks a toothbrush, seemingly at random and examines it, shrugging as he tosses it into his basket. “Call me,” he says, winking, and walks away from where he came from.

As he walks away, his cologne invades your senses, breath stuttering as you breathe him in. Oh, you are definitely calling him.

As soon as you’re checked out, you find yourself having to use the bathroom, so you wander to the back of the store and down the hall where the single unisex bathroom is.

It’s locked, so you check your phone as you wait, leg shaking to distract yourself from the need. When the bathroom door opens, you look up to face the patron and your brain deflates.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, facing the kind stranger, whose name you learned is Eddie from the number he gave you. You stare at one another, taking each other in, your breath heavy and your heartbeat in your ears. Why were you here, again?

Instantaneously, his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your winter jacket, tugging you forward as he places his lips on yours. Your bags drop from your hands as you gasp in surprise, your brain taking a moment to catch up.

As soon as it does, you grab onto his jacket and kiss him back, meeting his enthusiasm feverishly. His tongue darts out to meet yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, taking in how weak his lips alone make you feel.

Eddie starts to pull you backwards and into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you’re pushed up against the wall, whimpering as he moves his body against you. “Fuck.” He whispers against your lips, taking a moment to catch his breath.

You hum in response, lips reaching for him again. As you do, your hands sneak past his jacket and onto his t-shirt, clutching at the fabric as you finally feel up his torso.

“Nuh uh.” He tsks, pulling back from you. When you pout, he laughs and gives you a look of pity. “I just gotta know one thing, there, sweetheart.”

“Anything.” You promise, not knowing what you’re getting into. You just wanted his lips back on yours.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, slightly taunting you. “Okay.” He leans down, breathing down your neck as he places his lips by your ear. “What were you thinking about in that waiting room while you ogled me, sweetheart?”

Okay, not that. You sigh in embarrassment, learning he knew exactly what you were thinking while you gawked at his chest, gawked at him.

“Don’t act all embarrassed, now.” He chides, observing how your eyes widen just how he remembered. “Tell me. Tell me and we’ll do every raunchy little thing that pretty brain came up with.” He taps the tip of your nose gently with the pad of his finger. You wish he'd shove it past your lips.

Your eyes widen as the arousal floods the panties you wear. All you can do is breathe hard and attempt to find the words.

“Let me help you.” He says, shifting his weight against you slightly. “Was it my hands down those tight ass jeans you were wearing?” You gasp as his fingers barely graze your jeans’ waistband. “Or even better was my tongue on that wet cunt of yours?” You shake your head no, as much as you wanted both of those things. You didn’t even get that far. “Were you on your pretty knees?” Finally, you nod, confirming exactly what you were thinking about.

“Your cock was down my throat while I nuzzled your…” you trail off, lifting his shirt to see the patch of hair again, “oh my god.”

He chuckles, rewarding you with a wet and dirty kiss. All too soon, he pulls away. “Then what, baby?”

Your mind is dumb, trying to come up with it. “Then…then you bent me over and fucked me—” you whine as his knee bucks up between your legs and makes harsh contact with your cunt, “with your hand around my throat.”

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, teeth gritted as he gives you a look at screams with lust. “Believe me, if you asked, I would’ve.”

“Yeah?” You ask, licking your lips as your head leans back into the door. “What about your cut?”

“To hell with my cut! I had a pretty girl practically giving me the eyes, you think I care about some little scratch?”

You stare at him in disbelief, your body and breaths stilling for a minute. “Then do it.”

Eddie smirks at you, and you stare at his pretty pink lips as he leans in and kisses you, both impossibly dirty and sweet simultaneously. Eddie’s knee contacts your cunt again, this time forcing a moan out your lips. Blindly you move your hand down his chest, finally gripping the hard-on straining against the fabric of his jeans.

He gives you his first moan, a sound that opens the floodgates. “Wanna get on those knees for me, baby?”

You nod, giving one last kiss to the spot where his jaw meets his neck. Slowly, you kiss your way down his body where finally you find yourself face to face with the cock that’s pushing its way out of his pants. You fumble with the button for a second before you finally reveal him, and it’s so much better than you could’ve imagined.

So much bigger, too.

You smile up at him through your eyelashes, grateful for fates allowing you in the same place at the same time. He places his hand under your chin, licking his lips as he examines your expression of desire. “Suck my cock, baby.”

You eye his treasure trail, dipping your nose into it as you inhale his musk, uninjured hand wrapping around his thick girth. You mewl at the scent; the aroma is even better than you had imagined. One of his large hands slides itself gently along your cheek, his long thumb stroking at the apple of your sweet smile. You stare up at him, kissing the underside of the head of his cock with wet lips. Your tongue pokes out, flat as you lick it slowly, taking your sweet time, admiring the way he lets out whimpers.

“Oh…shit.”

This urges you to wrap your lips around the head, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on it gently. You take your lips off him, spitting the excess saliva in your mouth onto his shaft, your hand slowly moves up and down, jerking his length to spread the slick along his cock. The shine is pretty, the spit accentuating the pink blush.

“Pretty cock,” you compliment him, laughing breathily as you go cross-eyed just staring at it. “Tastes better than I thought it would.”

“Did you think about tasting my cock, sweet girl?”

You wrap your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down as you confirm what he asked with a simple hum. He’s big, the tip hitting the back of your mouth and that wasn’t even half of it. You choke on him, the guttural sounds echoing loudly against the tiled walls. A want of more of him in your mouth invades your mind, not tasting nearly enough of him.

You attempt to take in more of him, choking on it even more but struggling to, despite the desperate need. “Settle down, sweet girl,” he mutters, harshly brushing his fingers against your cheek as he peers down at you. “Relax your throat. Take all those tense muscles and relax ‘em.” You think about it, letting those reflexes remain tense to rest. You’re holding back more saliva, but you fail to realize it until your mouth is flooded with spit, overflowing past the barrier of your lips. “Oh, good girl.”

It's alien but mind numbingly arousing as you feel him move down your throat, moaning around him. His fingers comb through your hair, and roughly move against your scalp. “That’s it, breathe through your nose, sweets.”

The heel of his palms rest on your forehead, moving you up and down his cock. You find it stupidly easy to submit to him, the tip hitting roughly against the back of your throat. His groans are louder than the guck, guck, guck that are hitting wall to wall against the tiles. He’s brutal about it, increasing his speed from 0 to 100 quick as a thought.

Hot tears spill over your water line down your cheeks, trailing the makeup you wear down to your throat. Your hands weave themselves against the cotton of his t-shirt, fighting to keep letting him fuck your throat. “You’re so damn good at this, sweetheart, pretty little mouth working so well.”

He finally lets go, poking his cock against the inside of your cheek one last time, appreciating the swell as the glistening from your tears shine on your face. He uses his thumb to lift your chin up to him, his darkened eyes raking over your face. His pink lips parted, his dilated pupils, the heaving of his chest, there’s nothing you’d want more than to earn this gaze again. “C’mere.”

He lifts you by your chin up to kiss you, dirtily lacing his tongue against yours. “What a good girl you are, taking it so well.” A smile lights up your face from his praise. He tugs you back in for another one, a hum vibrating against his lips. A hand of his trails down your body, single handedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Good work like that deserves a reward, hmm?”

His large hand moves past the opened fly and works itself against your panties. A gasp escapes your mouth only at the touch of his fingers on your covered folds, mewling as he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He’s not even really moving them against you, but just his touch gives you some of the pressure you needed. “Christ, you’re wet,” he comments, dipping his head to work his tongue against your pulse. “Choking on my cock really got you off, huh?”

You nod, eagerly agreeing with him. “So big.”

He smirks, pressing pressure on your clothed folds, in small circles. “You like my big cock, huh? Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Bigger,” you gasp, hands grabbing on any clothes he wears anxiously.

His finger easily moves the fabric aside, finger attaching itself right to your clit. The pleasure is good, eyes fluttering closed as it grows startlingly fast. “Fuck,” you swear, your voice rough. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, close?” You nod, despite the embarrassment that floods your senses. “I haven’t even started to touch you yet, baby. I still wanted to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my fingers.”

His actions mimic his words, inserting two fingers hastily into you, moving them expertly as they fuck you. With how wet you are, his two digits slide in easily. They’re long, reaching a depth in you that you could only dream about. You gush around him, music to his ears as your whimpers grow more and more pathetic. His thumb touches your clit again, rubbing frantically.

You gasp, mewling as his teeth start to nibble skillfully along the length of your neck. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue licks a sinfully long stripe up your neck to your ear, his voice intense and husky. “Cum all over my fingers, sweetheart, make a fucking mess for me.” Your hand tangles into his hair, gripping at his root. You stutter through a sentence of whines and half-finished words, failing to convey how good his fucking fingers make you feel. “So pathetic, huh?”

The words that you wanted to say were, you make me feel so good. Instead, you say, “M-ak-m, so-so good.”

Your good arm wraps itself around his shoulders, pulling his body against yours. Against your better judgment, your other hand moves his chin so your lips kiss his desperately, wanting every wet touch of them on yours. Your whimper into his mouth, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you finally cum, drenching his fingers just as he had requested.

“There she is,” he mutters, his flat palm moving under your jacket and shirt and grazing gently along your bare torso.

It takes you a second to recover from it, still feeling the effects of it throughout your body as it lingers. You unzip your jacket, letting it fall on the bathroom floor. You can’t find it in yourself to care for the moment, but it will find itself in the wash later. As it’s a walk-in bathroom, there are poles next and adjacent to the toilet. Perfect.

“Fuck me?” You ask, eyes glazed over as they reach his.

He chuckles, hands landing on your hips. Your jeans are pushed down your legs, resting just below your knees. “I thought you'd never ask, sweets.”

You grin, pushing his jacket off his shoulders onto the floor. Before it even hits the floor, you grab onto the fabric of his shirt and step backward over your own jacket to pull him across the room to the said metal bar installed on the wall.

His fingers slink into his pocket that’s now down his leg, holding a condom between you and him. You pick it up from his fingers and fling it across the room. “I’m on birth control.”

Eddie’s hands grab under your legs when your back hits the wall, supporting you surprisingly well as your ass rests on his forearms.

He sighs, eyes half mooned as he stares down at you. “My arms are occupied, mind helping me out here?”

You giggle, spitting on your hand and grabbing between the two of you at the cock that keeps brushing against your inner thigh, moving it against your entrance. It slides in easily, the mushroom tip pushing in as two of you moan in sync. Your hand moves to the bar on the wall, starting to help him as you lean some of your weight onto it.

“How is your pussy even better than I thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, gasping in uneven breaths.

“So, so full,” you gasp back, his size far bigger than you’ve ever had. “So big.”

“You’re fucking tight, sweets.” He mutters, jaw dropping as he watches you watching him.

“Move.” You urge him, the stretch too much yet his still hips are driving you crazy. “Need you to move,” It comes out as a pathetic whine and you know it, but you’re long past caring at this point.

“Say no more,” Eddie mutters, starting to move slowly, his hips rolling perfectly against you.

He hits deep and he hits hard. “Just like that! Fuck!”

“Your pussy, fuck, baby, yours is just a new fucking standard!”

You curl into his neck, nipping and starting to mark the pale skin with purple, teeth digging in harder the faster and harder he fucks. You can’t answer his compliment, but the way you tighten around him is confirmation enough that you are in complete agreement with him. It’s like he knows exactly how you like it before you tell him, intuitively knowing you before even has the opportunity to find out.

He watches every reaction you give him carefully, how your legs tighten around his waist, your hands twisting themselves in his shirt, the mewls that leave your mouth mixed with words that you never finish, he takes every hint as gospel. He’s always intuitive to what a partner of his needs, but you’re a special case, every reaction you give him only makes him insatiable for more. The way your eyes roll back in your head is everything he’s ever wanted to see from you and more, never could he have imagined anything like this when you glanced at him in the E.R.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum, sweets,” Eddie moans, fingers digging into your bare thigh, the pressure surely bruising the skin.

“Choke me.” You gasp, voice desperate for him.

“Hands are occupied, babe.” He answers, gruff and brows furrowed.

You tap the bar, using both hands now. “I got it.”

He whines, high-pitched and gorgeous. The kind of whine you listen to on men whimpering audios. Maybe you can make it happen more. Maybe one day he’ll let you worship him for a few hours…the idea is enticing. His large hand wraps itself around your throat, the metal of his rings causing harsh friction on your neck. He admires the way you revel in it, tongue poking out of your mouth like the slut you are for him. “You’re more of a slut than I thought you are, hmm?”

You nod, his strong arm flexed and mouth watering. The drool that slips down your tongue is pure proof of it, dampening your shirt in a little streak.

“What a good little pathetic slut,” he grins, rubbing your jawline with his thumb. His grip tightens, only enough to send stars in your vision.

You tap his arm, begging him for air. “A slut for you.” You gasp, whining for him. “Want your cum, please, please cum in me.”

“Can you beg for me one more time?” He asks, your question almost making him erupt on the spot.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, arms starting to lose their strength. “I wanna be dripping from you, so bad.”

“Yeah, want Daddy’s cum?” he asks, hands gripping into your hair.

Of course, this man has a daddy kink, you couldn’t expect anything less from him. “Yes, Daddy.” You whine, grinning at his hold on you. “Fill me up.”

“Baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up—Jesus Christ.” He interrupts himself, cutting himself off as he ruts into you a final, gasping, sweaty time. He twitches in you, feeling him fill you up as some of starts to trickle out of your pussy and down your thigh.

His hand lets go of your hair, wrapping around your torso as he pulls you into an embrace. This is the kind of sex that takes time to recover from, both out of breath, his dick still twitching. A smile takes over your features, invading every muscle in your face.

“So, think you’re gonna call me?” He asks, hand moving itself under your shirt to gently brush against your bare skin.

“I’ll definitely text you.” You answer, chuckling at the annoyed look he shoots you when he pulls back in your embrace. “Oh, come on.”

He chuckles, and for some odd reason the last thing you expect from him is another kiss, his lips working marvelously against yours. They’re much gentler, much sweeter than you expected, yet everything you’d crave from him.

“What was that?” You ask, watching his two gorgeous brown eyes.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you go after that?” He asks, half a smile on his face. “Wanna come to my place later?”

“Later?” You ask, one eyebrow quirked at him.

“I’m heading home right now, wanna join me?” He kisses the top of your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your jawline, your still covered shoulder. “I kind of need to spend a few hours with my nose buried in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Your jaw drops, your mouth drying completely from his admission. “Y-yeah, th-that sounds nice.”

He laughs at your stutter; your pussy having tightened around him upon the mention of it.

Three knocks hit the door, loud and abrupt. “Hurry the fuck up!”

You look at one another with wide eyes, laughing at the disruption. He backs up, his cock leaving your entrance being a loss you whimper at. “Don’t worry, sweets. I will fuck you more than enough times to satisfy that need.”

“Dunno,” you start, legs shaky as you land on them, “I think I’m pretty insatiable at this point.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep going, won’t we?” Eddie asks, pulling his jeans and boxers up his legs.

“And if I’m never satisfied?” you ask, tilting your head as you pull up your own pants.

“Well then I guess we’ll just never stop.”

You grin at his answer, biting your lip excitedly.

The silence is comfortable as you pick your jackets back up and the bags on the ground. His fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the hall past the angry customer and out the front door of the store.

He offers to eventually take you back to your car when you need to go back home, wanting more time with you even if it’s the mere ten minutes that it takes to get to his apartment.

Not one moment is wasted as he yanks you to his bedroom, pushing you onto his bed. As promised, your jeans are yanked down your legs quick as can be, burying his nose deep in your cunt.

Only after the eighth orgasm does Eddie yank off your clothes, followed by his, finally skin against skin as he rails you in every position, even the ones you didn’t know were possible.

You might have to thank your brother for spraining your wrist, it’s the best thing he’s ever done for you.

Thanks for reading! I read every comment and tag you leave and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

taglist for Waiting Room Problems: @skrzydlak @delicatechaos @ali-r3n @suckerz @cam-peggio @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @emxxblog @lilrubles @dandelionnfluff @babygirl229 @let-love-bleeds-red @kurdtbean

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut

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roosterforme · 2 months

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.

Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.

"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."

He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.

"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."

"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."

He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night.

"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."

But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.

"Ness. I want to stay in."

She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."

She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."

His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"

Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."

Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."

When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"

"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"

Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."

"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone.

He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case.

So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.

------------------------

The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.

He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read.

When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead.

His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail.

"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"

He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days.

He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back.

This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.

He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.

Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.

"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.

He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.

Dear United States Naval Aviator,

First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!

Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)

Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.

Sincerely,

The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher

Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself.

He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.

First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.

"Damn."

The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.

"Fucking gorgeous."

----------------------

And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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bomber-grl · 7 months

Text

Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !

Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader

Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future

Very closed off and not looking for a relationship

He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.

Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.

Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.

It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.

Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.

You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.

Just as you did for him.

He didnt act on them at first.

Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.

You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.

So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.

However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.

Then from there it just went uphill.

He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.

Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.

He had no one to thank but you.

You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.

One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.

Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.

Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.

You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.

But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?

You asked him this almost immediately.

But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.

The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.

Which really relieved the both of you.

Things had changed, albeit subtly.

And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.

He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.

You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.

If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.

Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.

Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate

I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.

However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.

Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.

When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.

You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.

Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.

Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.

Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.

Then you guys begin talking.

And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.

If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.

Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.

So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.

It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.

Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.

But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.

Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)

Although not really into pda

And be more affectionate (as he can)

I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.

From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.

He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.

If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.

He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.

(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)

Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔

He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.

Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.

Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?

#gn reader #female reader #male reader #fanfic #fluff #fanfic fluff #fnaf micheal #fnaf mike #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fandom #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #five nights at freddy's #relationship headcanons #fnaf #sassy man apocalypse

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urfavlarry · 6 days

Note

hii! i love your writing so much! So can i request Joost x fellow artist!reader with one bed trope? Something like - Joost and reader have tour together, but hotel staff messes up their reservation and instead of two different rooms they get one and maybe reader is all shy with the whole situation bc she has feelings for him idunno 😭🙏

Awkward Situations

Joost Klein x artist!reader

summarry: ..one bed in the hotel room, how does that go when both of you just want to go to sleep after a tiring day from touring

genre: fluff!

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“I’m very sorry, but all rooms are booked for the night so there is nothing I can do for you other then give you the card to the room we booked for you.” The receptionist says to you, looking at you with a sympathetic look. You’ve been trying to bargain with her for the past 15 minutes, telling her you booked a totally different room but the hotel was full since it was summer and most people are on holiday at this time. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and take the key card, thanking her quietly before grabbing your suitcase and leaving. Joost trailed quietly behind you, letting you cool down since you were a bit upset from the situation. Anyone would be since you were tired from performing all day and couldn’t wait to have some tine for yourself but the hotel just had to mess something up. You didn’t try and cause a scene, it was mostly just going back and forth trying to find a solution but without success.

You walked down the hall, dragging your luggage with you and open the door, setting your stuff down and grabbing important stuff before running off to the bathroom. Meanwhile Joost looked around the room. It had a lot of space, the balcony giving you a great view of Frankfurt, the place you performed tonight. He lit a cigarette and snapped a quick photo before putting his phone away and admiring the view. He watched the cars pass by, music softly playing somewhere across the street and laughing could be heard just a few streets away. He threw the cigarette away, walking back into the warm atmosphere of the hotel. You were already done with getting yourself ready for the bed, laying down on your stomach and watching something on your laptop. You edited some footage your crew took from the concert and tried to get as much done as possible before deciding to watch a movie. You put on a random shitty comedy movie, getting comfortable under the covers. You were on the side of the bed where the nightstand was, leaving Joost to sleep on the side near the wall. You heard him get out the bathroom and feel the bed sink, a strong smell of some random shampoo hitting you like a truck. You got some butterflies in your stomach, trying to focus on the movie.

You were half asleep at around 2:29 AM, yawning and putting on a different movie. You closed your eyes, Joost already asleep and snoring softly. He was the type to always toss and turn in his sleep, but tonight he was suspiciously still. You were falling in and out of consciousness, seconds feeling like hours when you suddenly feel him moving around. He put a hand on your waist, a quiet yelp escaping your mouth. He pulled you a bit closer, his back only a few inched away from you. Sighing, you accept your fate and try to fall asleep, succeeding just after a few seconds.

In the morning, you felt trapped. You couldn’t move, eyes shooting open. You were faced with someone’s chest.. Joosts chest. Your face felt hot but you chose to ignore it, admiring his morning features. You didn’t dare move, knowing Joost wasn’t really the biggest fan of mornings, practically having to drag him out of bed every time you were on tour. He started shifting, his eyes slowly opening so you quickly close yours, trying to act like you’re asleep. He loosened his grip on you, you could feel his intense gaze on you before feeling lips on your forehead. “Morning..” He says in his groggy, morning voice before getting up, probably to shower or change. After what felt like hours, you open your eyes, grabbing your phone and checking the plans you had for today. The next concert was next week in Switzerland, then two days after that concert you were going to Italy. You were excited, always having the dream to travel the world someday which was finally becoming a reality. You shiver slightly, standing up to grab a hoodie from your suitcase and skin care, sitting down and grab a small mirror you brought so you could get ready. After finishing, you put your hair in a hairstyle you thought would fit your outfit for the day. Standing up you go on the balcony, getting some fresh air. You let your mind wander, thinking about all kinds of things before feeling a pressence beside you. Of course it was Joost, who else would it be? He stood there besidde you quietly, coffee in hand and handing you your usual. You thank him quietly, letting the warm drink heat your hands up.

It was a comfortable silence, something you usually had on mornings like these before Joost spoke up. “Slept well?” You look in his direction and nod, siping on your drink.He also nodded, the soft and comfortable atmosphere turning tense. He cleared his throat, trying his best to come up with a topic which wasn’t usually this hard for him, so why was it now? “Are you.. okay? Were you uncomfortable?” He asks, his tone being more worried then anything.

You shook your head, finally sparing him a glance. “It felt nice.” You say, awkwardly and he just nods, letting the silence engulf you once more. You went inside, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward around your best friend. You get changed and decide to go look around Frankfurt. You and Joost talked like nothing ever happened, leaving the morning incident behind. You went inside a museum you found interesting, paying for everything and going inside to explore. It was nice, a lot of things took your interest but Joost seemed like he was in his own world, just walking around and looking dazed. Once you decided it was time to head back, you made your way to the hotel once more. You met a few fans, most of them being thirsty for Joost anyway but finally you got to your destination. Joost looked pretty annoyed about something, sparing you a few glances and pouts. You sat down next to him on the bed, deciding to get the information out of him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, making him chuckle. “Being blunt, are we?” You shrug and raise a brow, your leg bouncing impatiently. “Joost, what’s bothering you hm? You haven’t started a random topic for 15 minutes. Which is very unlike you might I add.” He stares at you dumbfounded but shakes his head. He shrugs and looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain his sour mood. “Well, last night..” He starts and you mentally curse. You really were hoping this wasn’t mentioned but it had to be at some point.

“I liked.. what happened and I’m pretty sure you did too because you would’ve spoken up about it, I know you enough to know you speak up about things when you’re uncomfortable with something.” He starts and you try your best to not break eye contact with him, letting him speak his mind. “I didn’t only like that, I like you and have for almost a year and I thought we could.. try?” You smirk, deciding to tease him; “Try..?” You smile and he looks at you with a ‘really?’ face. “You want me to spell it out for you? I want us, to be together, at least try. We can work something out I know we can.” He says and you nod, inching closer to him. “I’d love to Joost.” You say and he stands up spinning you around making you giggle like a child. The rest of the night was just you two making fun of the situation and what convinced Joost to confess. It really was funny that one bed made you get together with the most amazing person on earth.

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#joost klein requests #joost klein x y/n #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joostice for joost #joost x reader #justice for joost #joostice #free joost #stand with joost #joost klein fanfiction #eurovision requests #eurovision x reader #eurovision fanfiction

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coco-loco-nut · 9 days

Text

loml

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: a journey through your relationship with max

a/n: so for a little background... my ex (he wasn't an F1 fan, it was never gonna work, let's be real) broke up with me the night before this album was released, so writing this series has been very healing; however, this one was extremely difficult to write bc it's the only song i can't analytically listen to and find the deeper meanings yet, especially after losing your first love. sorry for the rant and making this short🙃

tw: emotional abuse, manipulation

masterlist ttpd masterlist part two

________

You and Max were fan favorites, it was evident to anyone with eyes who had eyes. But they say you never know what happens behind closed doors.

“She’s the love of my life,” Max would always say about you, looking at you like you held the universe in the palm of your hand. His fans could recite your love story by heart from how much he loved to talk about you. It only made sense that he could shatter that public opinion.

“Y/n and I have divorced, I would like to ask for privacy as we navigate the changes,” Max posted one day, his socials wiped of everything. Your accounts remained the same, your last post being from the fateful race months ago. You haven’t posted since. The fans should’ve realized when the WAGs and George unfollowed Max.

Your apartment was full of things that reminded you of Max, every time you walked in it reminded you of every memory. He was embroidered in everything. You look at a printed photo of when you first met him. Despite it being six months later, you couldn’t get rid of him.

~~~

All it took was locking eyes with him across the pier for you to fall in love on that breezy summer day. He walked up to you and asked you to join him, and you did. You kissed him at the top of the ferris wheel later that night, and you didn’t even know he was famous all you knew was that he made you feel safe. The breeze reminded you of the warm ocean breeze from that day, one you called the winds of fate.

Despite being young, you married him after a year of being together. Things weren’t perfect even then, he could be incredibly mean, but he was also a standup guy when it mattered. That erased any wrongdoing of his.

“You have made me a better man, you reformed me, the love of my life,” Max had said that fall evening, repeating the one line that brought you back to him every time.

You believed his words, his lies spun to make you believe the hell you were living in was actually heaven. When he takes his anger out at you, doesn’t defend you against his father, you start to second guess him but he calls you those four words.

“I’ll never leave you, Schatje,” Max holds you in his arms, your back against his chest as you both look at a tv in the Paddock. The fans loved that photo, calling your love legendary. They didn’t know about the growing hole in your heart.

Your marriage was looking like one of those black and white movies you and Max watch on snowy winter afternoons. You and Max had been talking about starting a family, but you couldn’t get pregnant and you were watching everything you loved slip away.

“God, Max, you are like a con-man. I feel like I’ve been sold a get-love-quick scheme. What happened to you?” you ask, voice laced with hurt, during an argument about it. Max just ignored you, pushing past to stream with some friend. He ignored the sobs coming from your bedroom. He told the chat that you are the love of his life when asked about you.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” some of the WAGs pulled you aside during a race. They told you how Max was shit talking you to other drivers, saying you were a waste of a wife for your inability to get pregnant, saying he should’ve never married you, pointing out every flaw he told you was beautiful when he was lying to your face. You stand up and leave, not saying a word even when the girls try to stop you. Max is confused but simply responds to your text saying you were sick with an okay.

You are laying in your bed sobbing when Max gets back from the race. You face the terrace, where you and Max would dance under the stars. You can see the ghosts of it through your tears, and you wished you could un-recall when you thought you had everything.

“Please get out of bed,” Max says, his concerned tone laced with venom. Maybe the ghosts of your relationship are embarrassed by the scene on the other side of the glass.

“No,” you cry, mourning the loss of your counterfeit relationship.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Max sighs leaving the room. You sent a text to the WAG group chat who helped you remove all your belongings from Max’s apartment into George’s apartment that he wasn’t using at the moment.

Your phone is flooded with messages from Max, so you turn it off unless you are talking to your lawyer. Max finds a divorce petition and your apartment key on the dining room table when he comes home from training a few days later. The relationship that had such a valiant roar ended with the blandest goodbye.

You sit in George’s apartment with Carmen and Lily drinking wine. You took over George’s lease after they insisted that you did.

“For someone who claims to be a lion, he sure is a manipulative coward,” Carmen says as the three of you comb through the years of lies he spun.

You took the dreams that you thought you and Max wanted and lit the match to destroy them with your divorce papers. Despite your somber eyes, you seem more at peace, even with the sadness you will carry with you until you die.

“He’s the loss of my life.”

part two

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid #max verstappen #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #george russell

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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TREVOR SPENGLER ; you make loving fun

summary ; you, Trevor's first proper non-toxic partner shows him true love, and how great it really is when you find your person

warnings ; language, mentions of making out, talk about toxic people/exes, verbal abuse, and emotional neglect

disclaimers ; Trevor is described as bisexual, reader is a garbage fan (green flag)

word count ; 1k

I'm working on reqs rn dw guys 🙏

masterlist

Trevor knew that the second he'd met you, he'd fallen head over heels.

The only thing he was worried about, after being reassured by both his mom and Pheobe, was how you'd treat him. His last ex was terrible to him, and by that point, he felt like he was an abuse magnet.

Thankfully, nothing was ever physical, he thanked whoever or whatever was looking over him for that, even fate itself.

Talking about past exes, his last ex-boyfriend first, he'd essentially treat him like shit and try to hide their relationship. He'd use him for pleasure and attention and then ignore him and act like he didn't know him. Trevor was always there for him, but he was never once available for Trevor. That shit ended quickly thanks to his mom convincing him to end things, plus moving away again made it easy.

His ex-girlfriend was slightly the same way.

For context, Trevor was never popular, but he wasn't ignored or bullied in school either. He was attractive enough to be boasted about, I guess, but he wasn't gathering hoards of girls to swoon over him either.

She used him as popularity points, as she was one of the half-popular girls who wanted brownie points for dating someone on a lower social level than herself. Trevor never saw it and had to deal with the consequences. The fighting, the way she'd scream and yell and argue with him over the simplest things. She treated him like a charity case.

So, he was fairly afraid to hurt himself again. He wanted to pursue you, he did. He was just fucking scared.

But, with enough pressure and reassurance from Pheobe, his mom, and new friend Lucky, he gathered the courage to ask you out. During that process, he rambled about how smitten he was for you and had to genuinely stop himself as he realized he'd never felt like this for anyone before. You weren't someone he just wanted to occasionally hold hands with and kiss. He wanted a genuine, healthy relationship with you. He wanted to be treated right, just this once.

But you, knowing about his past relationships, knew what he needed. And you were dedicated to showing him what actual loved looked like, what a real relationship felt like.

From dates at the roller-rink, to movie nights inside, you showed him that you could love him like how he needed to be loved. He needed to be shown that what he went through before wasn't normal and that you would never think to hurt him like people in his past did.

You made loving fun for him, he'd never smiled and had so much fun with someone, ever.

He loved making out with you in his new bedroom at the firehouse, and your soft kisses of reassurance when he was upset or stressed. He'd always find his stomach and lungs genuinely in pain from how much he laughed with you. He was infatuated with you, with holding your hand and caressing said hand with his thumb, with wrapping his arms around you to just hold you like that in silence.

His photos app is filled with pictures of you, over 500 through the past year. His lockscreen? A picture of you two at the county fair under dark blue neon lights.

He watches you sitting in the window, your body barely fitting onto the ledge. Thank God for bay windows, but christ, the people who made this building over 120 years ago needed some better architectural design here. What was the bay window for if not to sit in it?

He'd only woken up a bit ago, having been in the shower as you entered his room, awaiting his arrival. His family thankfully loved you, and would let you in no matter what.

"You look nice today," He comments, running a hand through his hair.

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Do I not usually look nice?"

"No, no, I mean, yeah! You always look nice!" He quickly sputters, "I-I like your shirt. Garbage, they're cool"

You lightly smile, reassured in his loyalty and kind-heartedness by his answer. "You're fine, Trev, I'm playing" You chuckle, "You've never even listened to Garbage"

You pull the sleeves of your undershirt down, feeling a cool wave hit your body like the wave of water at the beach. Your baggy jeans cover you perfectly as the sun peaks out from the clouds.

"You don't know that!" He exclaims, crossing his arms, "All your Spotify playlists are public, I can listen to whatever you are with a couple clicks"

"Okay, bud" You throw your hands up in a sarcastic annoyance. "Whatever you say, pal. I guess we gotta break u-" You quickly stop yourself, looking up at Trevor with slightly widened eyes. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry"

You quickly hop off the ledge of the window, your hands clenched into fists as you stand in front of him awkwardly, awaiting his reaction.

"I'm so sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn't mean to say that-"

"It's fine, Y/n/n" Trevor looks at you with a confused yet laid back expression. "Why are you apologizing?" He catches himself, finding the answer on his own, "Oh, well... it's not that big of a deal, it's okay" He shrugs, "It's fine"

"Sorry, uhm-"

Trevor quickly wraps you in a hug, resting his arms over your shoulders. "I love you, okay? I've never loved anyone so fun and amazing to me, joking about shit is fine"

You nod into his shoulder, "Sorry"

"It's okay" He chuckles, rubbing a hand over your back. "You're fine, it's alright"

"You're the fun one, by the way" You mumble.

"Hm?"

"You're the one who makes loving fun, Trev"

He silently smiles, his face flushing as he holds you a little tighter.

#Spotify #lowkeyrobin #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #trevor spengler #trevor spengler x reader #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters frozen empire #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

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itstheghostofmypast · 2 months

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Lime Milkshake

Non-Idol Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: Love is not a feeling that comes without a cost, a give-and-take relationship that flourishes if both ends of the line meet at a pleasant frequency. Choi San had yet to understand that concept, especially when he deemed himself to be unworthy of love, in all its forms.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 5.1k

Est Read Time: 25 minutes

Warnings: past relationship trauma, language, ghosting (it triggers me so yes)

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

Fate had never been fair, not with anyone who ever dared to dance with it, and luck was often watching from the sidelines, that's exactly how he felt when he saw her walk in with another man that day, watching the way she laughed at something the stranger had said to her- whispered to her, leaning closer to her, who knew the girl he had given his heart to was busy fooling around with it. That day he had stomped out of the shop, making sure to walk past her, feeling her body tense up, breath hitch and eyes widen as she turned her head to face him, locking her panicked orbs with his cold, hard ones-, a look she had never been a victim to before. That was the last time he had seen her, spoken to her, responded to her texts or even made the effort to open the door.

The thing about love is that it leaves a mark, an imprint that one may either wear proudly or cover with shame. She wasn't the first person he had been with, no, he had been in a few other situationships- unfortunately, she wasn't a situationship, she was a relationship, much like his previous ex- the one who had cheated on him with his own best friend, ironically his best friend was unaware of the relationship. He never thought that one night he'd visit her apartment, to surprise her, a day before his birthday, that he wanted to celebrate with his lover, his Bora, his angel, and find none other than Jung Wooyoung with her on her bed. It took Wooyoung four days to force San out of his room and another six for him to actually communicate with him, Bora was already out of the story, someone who didn't even bother calling back San or trying to reach out to him. That day Wooyoung had seen his best friend implode, keeping it in more than his introverted self ever did before, he was shy by nature and was one to put up a strong front to match his physical presence (the current big mountainous one) the old Sannie was as fragile as his porcelain heart, the recent development however was the addition of his nonchalance followed by his tactic to ignore the situation. The younger man had practically broken into his apartment to talk to him, only to find him mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he sat beside him, trying to talk to him but what he had received was a step ahead of the silent treatment- it was as if he was invisible like he wasn't even there. To get a reaction when Wooyoung had snatched it out of his hand and flung it across the room, the man simply grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, mumbling to himself about some movie- it was only two hours in of him sitting with Wooyoung in silence when his head whipped in the direction of his friend, at the sound of a broken sob, he'd never seen Wooyoung cry, let alone sob like that. It was after that when the two finally talked it out, how Wooyoung explained how he never knew San was in a relationship with Bora, and perhaps San shouldn't have hidden his relationship with her if he truly loved her, even if she had asked for it, he should've at least kept him in the loop.

He did thus keep him in the loop, for one fine afternoon Wooyoung had received a text from San, while he was busy cleaning at home,

"It's over, don't meet her anymore, she's just like her."

Her- two years had passed and she still haunted his best friend, keeping him awake at night until he met someone else, Wooyoung was glad he had, for once San had met someone different, someone who would pull out San from the bubble he hid in, she was honest but careful with her words which Wooyoung had noticed, the two had met at a 7-Eleven at midnight, buying a lime milkshake and bonding over how disgusting of a midnight snack that was- though San had told him how she had done most of the talking, even while he walked her home she was talking, they had exchanged numbers because she had suggested becoming "mid-night snack buddies"- initially Woo thought she meant that sexually, but ironically she didn't, there was no other implication, but honest words of sincerity, a range of snacks were exchanged and shared and slowly San had begun to fall again, only this time he knew his mountain of a friend would fall into her arms and she'd catch him. Or so he thought, the text itself was something that had scared him, as soon as he read it, he was quick to leave his home to his friend's side, only to find her at his door, crying and asking for his help. Initially, he had thought she was no different, just as San had suggested, but it occurred to him how Bora had never cried like this, never tried to fight for San- if she truly was different then she would try no matter what, which is why he had decided to stay out of the matter, only advising her to "Don't give up on him." San, at the realisation that this was Wooyoung's advice, was, to say the least, enraged. His now ex would be at his door all the time, he blocked her number and email address, and made sure she couldn't find him on social media, at one point she began to show up at his door, knocking, gently calling him out, "Sannie, please I- I don't know what I've done, but please listen to me or at least talk to me." He'd ignore her diligently, making sure to leave a message, of how he didn't want her, how she was like her, how she was no different and how he was not someone to play around with. This went on for months, five to be exact, not that he was counting, she came to his door whenever she knew he was home from work, gently knocking on the door, "Hey... it's me, I just wanna talk." "Sannie, please, please just tell me what I did wrong?" "I hope you're taking care of yourself..." "Hey...Wooyoung told me about her...I'm not her San, I'm not Bora-"That was the last time he had heard from her, that night, he had almost opened the door, instead opting to lean his forehead against it, listening to her laboured breathing, "I- I don't know why you think I'd ever do that to you...I don't even know what I did to trigger this- please San, I know you're there. I know you can hear me- everyone in this building thinks I'm insane, like I'm a lunatic- I don't care about that but San I- please don't ghost me like that, don't pretend I never existed....just open the door...if you won't I..." he had heard the way her voice had cracked, his own resolve had begun to crack as well, but when he closed his eyes to keep the waterworks at bay, the image that flashed in front of his eyes was not hers- it was of the one who did this to him, he was so distracted by the face of his ex that he had almost missed her final call, "I won't bother you anymore."

It wasn't fair how all he asked was for true love, yet he was given something bitter as this every time he received any, it was unfair how he'd still cling to the memories, onto the habits and the little activities, only to make himself feel better, to feel whole again. It wasn't fair how he was now climbing down the damp, slippery stairs, on his way to have a disgusting, cold, unworthy lime milkshake. It took him a while to come out of the habits he had developed with Bora, but now that he thinks about it, those comprised of usually pleasing his ex, it was different with her, she'd usually look for a middle ground. Scoffing to himself he stuffed his hands in his jacket, what did it matter, he hadn't heard from her since that night, he hadn't heard from her for almost a year, she was no different, at the end it was only-

"Ah!"

His ears picked up a loud thump, followed by the sound of things clattering around, a pained cry had him focusing on a crouched figure, leaning against the wall almost at the base of the stairs- oh no, they must've slipped. Making his way quickly, but carefully down the remaining concrete steps he clicked his tongue at the figure, a woman, "Miss, are you okay?" He asked as she watched her gripping her ankle, and let out a shaky breath, she couldn't hear him. Moving closer he tapped her shoulder, "Miss, do you need.... help..." his words died down as his eyes locked with a familiar misty pair, which widened upon a sudden realisation. Honestly, she was quicker than him, shaking her head and mumbling an, "I'm fine", before trying to reach for her bag and its fallen contents hastily, not sparing him a glance.

Did she change her hair?

Did he change his hair?

Her mind raced with a thousand questions, but she didn't listen to any, quickly trying to stuff whatever she had dropped, back in her bag, her keys, her wallet, her perfume, and her…her phone? A gasp escaped her as she continued to frantically look around, hands slapping against the dimly lit stairs, cringing at the wet dirt that stuck to her palm.

He watched her silently, frozen in the spot as he tried to process what had just happened, how did he not notice her walking before him? He hadn't noticed anyone at all, why was she out at this hour? It was still drizzling a bit; it was cold and- since when did she wear wide-legged pants? Sandals in the rain? His ear picked up her little gasp, picking up her little "Where's my phone...", he saw the glint of the device on two steps below, making his way around her to go down quietly.

She felt his gaze on her, somewhat humiliated, somewhat angry and truly upset. Why was he not helping her? Was he just going to stand there and watch? The San she knew wasn't like this, he was cold-hearted- she saw him crouch down to grab something, her phone- shit- the screen lit up, reflecting off his eyes that had widened for a split second before he closed them, letting out a sigh and locking the screen.

He picked up her phone, pushing the lock button to check the damage, only for his breath to hitch at the sight of her wallpaper, it was the first couple picture they had taken together, one she had coaxed him into after three months of being together;

"Don't worry, it won't have your face or mine." "I... how?" "Watch, just stop walking." She instructed as he stood still, still carrying her on his back, this was a habit that developed when she'd come to the store after leaving work way later than she had imagined, which is why walking back was a bother, so he had brought up this suggestion, "You're wearing trousers anyway." Regardless of how worried she was, he held her with ease, carrying her up the same steps they were now on.

This picture was a shadow of the two, with her on his back, this was the picture she had as her wallpaper when they were dating as well- a year ago. He walked over to her, looking at her face, trying to read through her turmoil, something twisting within him as she stared up at him for a split second before looking away, the familiar words ringing in his ears, "I'm not Bora."

She looked away from his face, chewing on her lower lip, almost ashamed that he had caught her like this, that he had found out how she still hadn't moved on, as she tried to move her leg, only to wince, eying the reddened ankle swelling as the now tight strap of her sandal pressed against the skin.

Crouching down he slipped her phone into her back before gently pulling it out of her hand, turning around before she could protest as he stood there, facing ahead, pondering for a moment, before sitting down on the step after hers, quietly waiting for her to understand the signal.

"I- I'm fine, I can walk-"

He sighed, turning around to look at her with a frown, "You can't walk."

"I don't need your help," she looked away, slowly trying to stand up as she braced herself for the pain, only for him to grab onto her arm and move it around his shoulder, manoeuvring so she had to cling onto him when he stood up at full height, arms wrapping around his neck as he hooked his arms under knees.

"No, you do need my help. You don't want my help." He sighed, as he slowly started making his way down the last step, walking down the pathway, ignoring how she let out a shaky breath, her fingers digging into his cotton shirt when he took a quick step, the jerk causing her to wince, making him mumble a small "Sorry."

"It's okay..." she whispered, her warm breath against his neck causing him to shiver, as he cleared his throat to distract himself, before asking her the real question, "Where were you headed?"

"...7/Eleven."

He stopped walking.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

"Why?"

"I think you know why."

That's how the two found themselves sitting on the footpath, grimacing at the weird taste of the lime milkshake, watching the once-in-a-blue-moon car pass by, her bag in between them. She didn't know he had finished before her, but he had stood up and walked back inside the shop, causing her to turn her upper body to look at him walk inside, he'd grown prettier since the last time she saw him- well he was always pretty- she quickly turned back when he came outside with a paper bag in hand, trying to act casual, only that failed when he crouched down in front of her reaching for her ankle, "ITS OKAY-"

Clicking his tongue, he glanced up at her, narrowing his eyes when she cleared her throat, letting him have a look. Folding up the wide end of her pant leg he frowned, "This is bad..." he mumbled, undoing her sandal buckle with deft fingers, watching the imprint in the swollen, pink skin, "Since when did you where such pants?"

"I was trying something new." She sighed, placing the empty bottle of her shake next to her, reaching for her ankle, "I-I'll put some ice on it, it's fine."

"Why did you do it?"

His question caught her off guard, causing her to look at him all confused for a second, before pouting "Wear...sandals? Cause they matched-"

"Cheat on me."

"What?" She frowned, "I didn't cheat on you- San, I understand that lady hurt you, but I'm not her and if you weren't ready to move on, you should've said so." She scoffed, amused and angered by the fact that she had been crying each night for a man, who couldn't see past his ex, what was she? Some form of comfort cushion for him to use when he'd miss his ex?

"Then" he placed his hand on her ankle, gently massaging it, though he narrowed his eyes, glaring at her, a contrast between the way he looked at her and the way he was touching her ankle, "Who was that guy? At the cafe? You don't think I noticed how he was whispering to you?"

Reaching forward she slapped his hand, hard, only for her palm to hit her own ankle in the process, hissing in pain as she looked at him tear-eyed.

"OW- WHY WOULD YOU- ARE U MAD?" He yelled, pushing her hand away as he tenderly ran his thumb over the bluish skin, "Why would you hit your own bruise?" He sighed, before pulling out an ointment from the paper bag with his other hand, ignoring the way she was glaring at him, maybe she did lose her mind when they broke it off.

He had begun massaging the ointment on her ankle, not looking at her, though he could feel her glaring daggers at him, watching him work on her, and for some reason, though he didn't care, he didn't mind. It was as if the voice inside of him was berating him, scolding him for letting his insecurities get the best of him, pushing away the only person who had accepted to glue back the shattered pieces of his heart, promising to place in pieces of hers in the cracks that were left by missing pieces.

"I hate you."

His hands paused, one holding her ankle and his other hand holding the gauze, not an ounce in him wanted to look at her, wanted to see the hurt that swirled in her eyes, her words hung in the air, still as the mist on a cold bitter morning, perhaps such as this one, it was already past midnight. Clearing his throat, he continued his work as if nothing had happened, not daring to look up at her. Once he was done, he inspected his work before standing up, ignoring how her head followed his movements, still looking up at him, as if waiting for an answer, though he had nothing to give her, she hadn’t answered his question as well, she had only rejected the accusation. He grabbed her sandals in one hand and slung her bag over his shoulder before turning around and crouching down once more, the expanse of his back at her view, making her scoff, but she slowly got on, mumbling an ‘I still hate you.’

He had been making his way up the steps when he began to feel her tighten her arms around his neck, ignoring her for a minute or two, maybe she was scared she’d fall, so he let it be. That is until it became a bit too difficult for him to breathe for which he wheezed out,

“I can’t breathe.”

She let out a small gasp, “Aww…really?” before her grip tightened causing him to stop on a step, coughing out her name.

“That’s how I felt EVERY NIGHT when you IGNORED ME!”

Her grip loosened to its usual strength as he coughed for air, one of his hands flat against the wall as he tried to steady himself, letting go of her uninjured leg, feeling it wrap around him, wiping away a bit of drool with the back of his hand he hissed in anger, “You still haven’t told me who he was? What do you take me for-

“AN IDIOT, I TAKE YOU FOR AN IDIOT!”

“WHAT?” turning his head to glare at her, he frowned as she leaned over his shoulder to glare back with the same intensity, the volume of their voices wasn’t helping either, if anyone were to see them they’d probably call the cops, though that didn’t stop him from finally blowing up, letting out everything he should have the first time she came over to apologise, “WHY? WHY AM I THE IDIOT WHEN ALL I DID WAS WAIT FOR YOU AT THE CAFÉ LIKE YOU ASKED ME TO? AND THEN YOU BRING OVER SOME GUY AND-

“HE WAS THE F*CKING REAL ESTATE AGENT AND HE IS GAY!”

Just like the previous statement she had bombarded him with, her words hung in the air around them once more, the only sound that was evident to the ear was their heavy breaths, though he could see the way her ears had turned pink, not from the cold nipping at her but the anger that he had caused to run through her veins, “I- I can’t believe you, you walked out on me, you never let me explain and- and all I wanted to do was to surprise you with an apartment we could share.” She sighed, slowly letting go of him, causing him to panic, though she pulled back holding the handrail, “Just give me my stuff, thanks for today, just pretend none of this happened, you’re good at that anyway.”

Turning around to look at her he watched her reach for her bag that he was still holding onto, only for him to pull away, biting his lip to hold back the flood of emotions, especially when she looked up at him all exhausted, “I really did think Wooyoung was right, that you’d give me a chance but- I, I don’t think you were ready for something new and-

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, catching her off guard, eyes widening at the way he looked down at his shoes, holding onto her purse like it was his own, or perhaps he was holding onto something that was hers, the only piece that was not taken away, much like the memories of her, of how she loved him through the darkest patches of his life, how she spent time peeling away each layer with delicate movements, how she spent most of her time trying to understand him, how she’d be there with her melody, trying to soothe his aching soul, only for him to toss her out when the voices inside became so loud he couldn’t hear her’s anymore.

“You’re…sorry?”

“Yeah, I- Hey!” he almost lost his footing when she shoved him, staring at her in shock, for the love of God, they were still on the stairs, “Don’t do that,” he held onto her wrists when she almost shoved him again.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me she hurt you like that, you- don’t you think I would’ve stayed with you? I love you- I- I helped you as much as I could and if I knew you needed professional help I would’ve stayed by your side- did I not love you enough for you to realise that?” her words cut through him, it was as if reality had come and punched him in the face for her, “What’s the point of being so tough of on the outside when you’re hurting on the inside, indirectly hurting everyone who chooses loves you…” He watched her sigh, her resolve breaking as she looked up at him, streaks of fresh tears painting her face, causing his breath to hitch at the sight- no, if he had opened the door on the first day he would’ve cracked, he would’ve crumbled at her feet and to think he didn’t, to think he had let her cry like this at his doorstep for so long, to have her break down, to lose a piece of her every night because he was too afraid to confront her, even though she had come to him, fate was not cruel to him, no, for once fate had pitied him, by sending him a form of compensation he was unworthy of, a form of love that he was unworthy of, for he was unworthy of her.

“I…” his head hung low, fingers tightening around her wrists as he let out a quiet sob, before he slowly sat down, the world around him spinning a bit too fast, though he did not know she had followed after, he didn’t even know when he started bawling his eyes out, his deafening cries were being muffled by her shoulder as she hugged him close, a soothing hand rubbed his back, though she never shushed him, never asked him to stop, in fact, it was as if she was encouraging him to continue crying, to let it all out. Soon his sobs turned into incoherent apologies, which morphed into hiccups of her name, squeezing her close to him as she pressed his face into her neck, whining and mumbling about- honestly, she couldn’t even understand him, she was just glad he had finally decided to let it out, to finally feel whatever he had barricaded away, whatever was stopping him from loving and feeling loved. He doesn’t know how long it took, but he’s sure it was after a solid twenty minutes when he finally peaked up at her, catching the way she gave him a small smile, only for him to whine and hide back in her neck, mumbling, “Do you still hate me?”

“I don’t hate you San, I just hate what you did to me.” She sighed, slowly peeling him off her as she cupped his face, taking note of his puffy eyes and red nose, her thumbs caressing the warm and wet skin below his eyes, “I don’t think I deserved to be punished for something I didn’t do.” He could only meekly nod at her statement, before sniffing and letting out a shaky breath, followed by another apology which she nodded at. Standing up he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, before he picked up her things once more, turning around so she could hop onto his back.

“I can slowly walk there, you know?” she asked only for him to shake his head, not even turning to look at her as he did so, just waiting for her to do as he asked, which she did thankfully.

The walk to her apartment was quiet, though not as tense as the walk to the store was, or before they finally fought, in fact, she felt quite better, she didn’t really know about him, but it had been a long time since she had felt this light as if the weight of the horrid world had been lifted of her shoulders. Ever so often, she’d hear him sniff, but that was all, halfway up the elevator ride to her apartment she felt him gripping her tighter, closer, though she did not say anything.

It was when she was at the door when she tried to move but he didn’t let go, instead stood there facing the door with her on his back, not saying a word or moving an inch.

“San.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t lose you again.”

She sighed at his statement, before giving what was similar to a back hug, placing a kiss on his shoulder, slowly slipping out when he eased because of her antics. Limping over to the door she finally unlocked it, turning to look up at a dejected mountain of a man, holding onto her pink sandals in one hand, while on his shoulder clutched close to his body was her hot pink purse, if this wasn’t a serious moment she may have even laughed. Still, the sight of him standing there, like a kitten kicked in the rain had her gripping the doorknob, wondering what she should do next, was it worth the effort? Was giving him another chance worth the risk of the pain? All that therapy she had to go through when she decided to move on- but had she moved on? Well, she thought she did, until she met him again tonight until he began to carry her down the stairs, until she realised he too was going for that horrid drink, until he sat there quietly drinking it with her, until he began to treat her injury as if nothing had happened- perhaps a part of her did not want to move on, or was she waiting to see if he had moved on?

“I can’t just…forget everything San.” She finally gave into the rational part of her being, “I can’t help someone, who doesn’t want to help himself,” looking up at him she noticed the way his eyes had watered, his lower lip trembling, much like his shoulders, “I need to know if what I’m fighting for is worth it? Are we really worth it, Sannie?”

His ears picked up the little nickname, most people who were close to him would call him that, but when the name slipped off her tongue, his heart grew bigger three sizes, his heart grew braver three sizes, something ignited within his soul, his fingertips tingling with a new found sensation, his eyes met hers, eyes burning with a new found determination, a newfound realisation, “We are. I need to make it up to you, I want to make it up to you, I will make it up to you…” he paused, before taking a deep breath, “Only if you let me.”

She looked at him quietly, taking in his words, perhaps she had woken up someone who lay asleep for years, slowly losing himself within the broken shell of a man who walked aimlessly around the Earth claiming to be Choi San, perhaps this was the real Choi San, the one Wooyoung had told her to fight for, the one Wooyoung had told her would love her endlessly, would hold onto her tighter than she’d hold onto him, the one who was to bring down the galaxy and present it to her on his palm, all wrapped within his love and admiration for her.

“I have to go for talking therapy at 8 pm tomorrow.”

“We have to go for our talking therapy at 8 pm tomorrow.” With that he handed her the purse, leaning closer to the door before opening it and picking her up princess style, her sandals still hanging off his fingers as she scoffed, wrapping her arms around him, “You’re sleeping on the couch though.”

“As long as I still have a date with you tomorrow.”

“Again, it’s therapy.”

“Therapy dates can be our thing.” He smiled down at her, a genuine smile, a smile that she had barely seen, one that came with the dimples and the crinkle of his nose, his teeth peaking out at her, contagious enough for her to morph a similar smile, perhaps not as pretty as his, but for him, it was the brightest, most beautiful, most charming smile he had ever seen, the very sight he would long for each night, when his self-induced state of pity would subside and the kinder, selfless San would resurface, the one who had decided to set the same picture as his wallpaper as her own- that’s why he was so shocked to find out that even though the two hadn’t met for almost a year, or talked to each other, they somehow still happened to have the same wallpaper- guess fate really did know what she was doing, enough to have the two craving the disgusting, ungodly lime milkshake.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

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igotanidea · 1 month

Text

Run baby, run: AK!Jason x reader

part 2 to Somebody's watching me.

She looked so peaceful. So innocent.

And completely oblivious to the fact that the casual outing she went to with her friends was carefully observed by a pair of eyes, hidden under a metal helmet.

Or was she-?

He was like a predator.

Waiting for a single mistake of his prey to take a change and lunge at the opportunity fate presented him with.

Whatever the mistake may be in this case.

But sooner or later she was gonna make one.

Part ways with her friends.

Get drunk and bibulously let some guy touch her.

Dance to the music to the point of exhaustion and end up on the couch in a stranger’s house.

And he would be there to prevent the aftermath of that.

***

For the last week she was going crazy.

Ever since that one night when she saw a silhouette on the rooftop it felt like someone has been following her every move, ever step, lurking in the dark, so close to her and yet, just beyond reach. However, when she tried to tell her friends about they look at her like she was making a joke. So obviously she stopped doing as much as even mentioning it, cause the last thing she wanted was to be abandoned by the only people in her surroundings.

Even if those friends didn’t really deserve the name.

But still – those were the only one she had.

Incomparable with the Waynes she used to spend her time with years ago, before all went to shit. But Jason’s disappearance left an everlasting scar. The only thing she wanted was to forget it all, and yet – the only impossible thing in her life seemed to be letting go of the past. And being in the company of Dick, Tim, Babs and the rest of the clan was making her skin burn and her stomach twist and turn with the incoming, checkless panic attack. Like her entire body and mind felt the pressure of the past on her fragile conscience and damaged soul.

And the only thing she felt like doing in the Manor was either screaming or crying.

So she moved on, or so she tried to convince herself of.

***

Mistake number one was left her drink unattended when she went to the toilet.

Rookie move with the possible grave consequences.

But it was gone when she came back. Only fueling her paranoia.

Mistake number two was letting her eyes off her companionship and being left alone by the exit with some drunken and already horny guys.

But when with shaky hands she pulled out her phone, desperately searching through her contact list for a potential backup, those men were already dragged into the nearest dark alley and knocked down.

But her worst mistake was not calling the cab and deciding on actually walking home. In her opinion it was a way to get some air and calm her rapidly racing heart, but she freaking forgot it was Gotham.

Like a freaking fool.

Under any other circumstances she would never and the fact that the though of going on foot even crossed her mind was the perfect reflection of her shattered mind spinning like a freaking Ferris wheel.

Something was wrong.

Something was awfully wrong and she felt like she was a main character in some horror movie.

Like that girl, who you watch on the screen, screaming at her to not go to that creepy attic from where the most suspicious sounds come, and then do the exact same thing when faced with a threat.

A ruffle of the leaves. The sound of an empty soda can rolling on the street. The flap of bird’s wing.

It all made her feel like a Freddy Krueger was coming after her.

And maybe she was not so far from the truth.

Her pulse was over the moon, heart running out of her chest, breath quickening, legs starting to move faster and faster and faster as she started running. Not really watching where as long as it was forward and away from whatever imaginary individual was chasing her.

With wild hair, tears in her eyes and blurry vision.

She was so stupid. So fucking stupid and mental, belonging in the mental institution due to her damaged brain refusing to stop dwelling on the past trauma.

“WATCH OUT!”

Before she was hit by a car a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist pulling her back to the pavement. She closed her eyes in fear letting whoever her savior was hold her trembling form. As weird as it was, for some reason being in this embrace felt… good. And familiar. Like she belonged there.

And if it was another wave of schizophrenic images coming from her brain she refused to accept it, freezing at the spot and waiting for it to pass.

But the stranger’s seeming grip on her body did not falter. For a longer while that seemed both like an eternity and like a second.

“Y/N….”

It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind.

“Y/N…”

The second the voice hit her ears again she turned around abruptly, but there was no one there.

She was going crazy.

With wide terrified eyes, slowly coming back on earth she finally took in her surroundings.

Realizing, to her undeniable terror, that she was right next to Dick’s house. And even worse – noticing the lights in his windows. Which meant he was here and not in Bludhaven. And not patrolling. Which was an uncommon, if not impossible conjuncture.

The past finally caught up with her.

“Y/N?!” Dick noticed her outside and opened the window, holding back the instinct to just jump outside (from 3rd floor) like an acrobat he was. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you ok?”

“No…” she sobbed “No, I’m not okay…” she finally broke down in the middle of the night, on the empty street.

“Damn!” a few minutes later Grayson was downstairs holding her for dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happened, you are safe with me now, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Crying from fear and stress and helplessness.

“Shhh… come on, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I got you.”

When Dick was slowly guiding her to his apartment, the same predatory red eyes were focused on the pair and the sudden need for vengeance sprouts buds, growing roots deep into the long-petrified heart, crushing down the ice it was covered with.

No one was going to take her away from him this time.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45

#jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #arkham knight x you #jason todd angst #arkham knight jason todd

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spdrvyn · 2 months

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im begging for miguel x reader where he’s sick/tired/woke up from a nightmare and is in desperate need of shooting. so she takes care of him - pure domestic contentment- grooming him/washing/shaving/brushing hair/towel drying/changing clothes (and socks 🥺)/feeding him - doing everything to relax him and make him feel loved

solace in your sweetness

summary: in the deep trenches of the night, miguel wakes up due to night terrors and you're very deadset on comforting him. no matter how many times he denies you that.

tags: hurt/comfort. very sweet and fluffy. reader isn't a spider-person. fem!reader.

notes: i love this request so so much, i have been ITCHING to do it. thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Miguel didn't really have nightmares when he was younger. On the occasion that Gabe would bother him to watch a scary movie, there would be instances where he had them, but it wasn't a regular occurence. How naïve was he when he thought that he'd be able to leave those behind in his youth?

It started simple, he would be in the barren, empty streets of Nueva York. Before he would slowly watch every thing dissolve around him, glitch by glitch, pixel by pixel, unable to do anything but to just stand there, before he fell into the abyss and woke up.

The darkest part of his mind had always managed to make the scenario more horrifying, another time it was zombies, another time it was zombies again, but of only Gabriella. There was even a version where he was being chased by the other dead version of himself. He consulted many articles, read and bought a lot of books, and even tried meditating, but none of it worked so he just decided to live with it for a while. It wasn't like they happened every night, no big deal.

Though, it was a big deal to you. Which was his true fear, he didn't want you to fawn over something so trivial. He didn't want you to go out of your way to take care of him, despite how much it would fill the big, gaping hole in his heart.

So when he jolts awake from another night terror, he keeps himself as quiet as possible. He slowly looked over to the side of your bed, relieved to see that you were still in a peaceful sleep. He shifts silently and keeps his footsteps light as he makes his way over to the kitchen for some tea. The calming, minty aroma sweeped his senses, but it'd be better to work right now instead of relax.

He went back to the bedroom, setting the teacup down on the bedside before pulling out a small tablet. He winced as it opened, the brightness of it hurting his eyes even with glasses on. After lowering it, he immediately goes to rifle through his files.

That is until he felt the weight of your head on his shoulders, you looked up at him with a frown. "You're working."

"I am," Miguel spoke like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. As embarrassed as he was, it was too late. You should probably be going back to sleep, he remembered that you also had work early tomorrow. "I just got thirsty, go back to sleep, cariño."

A bald-faced lie, would you believe it or would you not? Your brows furrowed and your pout deepened, it made Miguel's palms sweat. Moments like these forced him to think if you really did have superpowers, there were too many instances where it seemed like you read his mind word for word.

"Why are you lying to me, Miguel?" Shock. It was his face, wasn't it? "Did you have any another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

Miguel's pride had shattered, you were too good at this. A little more and you'd be unmasking every single villain in the city. "You need to be up early, I just didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep." He closed his files and turned off his tablet, this was his fate now.

You all but groaned at his remark, kicking the bedsheets off of your body before stamping out of the bedroom. "Where are you-"

"Stay there, don't move an inch." He didn't want to incur God's wrath, so he obeys. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the pillows, his smell picked up on the scent of food being freshly cooked. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but by the lord, it smelled delicious.

Miguel was left there to wait for a while, this sort of reminded him of his younger days too, granted a lot more blissful. There were times when he was younger where Gabe had nightmares too, he'd come knocking on Miguel's door, asking if he could stay there for a while or if he could play video games with him.

To which Miguel would begrudgingly agree, but he normally tried to keep Gabe as uninterested in whatever they were doing as possible so that he could fall asleep already. This usually resulted in him falling asleep then Miguel having to sleep on the couch, but it was whatever. I mean, he only stopped doing that at the young age of 11.

So now being the one taken care of, it made Miguel feel like there was an outside force tipping the scales. After being a caretaker, one way or another, his whole life, having you step in and take him for a breather was like seeing a fish head on a lion's body.

You came back soon enough with a plate and spoon in hand, it was made clear to Miguel exactly what you were cooking. Tomato sauce with meatballs, you diced a small bit of the beef with the spoon before scooping some soup up, bringing it close to his mouth. "Ahhh,"

"I can eat on my—"

"Ahhhhh."

"For shock's sake—" he quickly took a bite, his eyes lit up as he swallowed. "It's good."

You smiled knowingly, finally allowing him to feed himself as you handed him the plate. "I know," then your expression hardened. "I'd like to talk to you about what you dreamt about, if that's okay with you." Miguel sighed, reaching over to the bedside to take a long sip of his tea.

His heart told him that it was perfectly fine for you to know about what was troubling him for so long now, but his mind, his rationale, told him to shut his trap about anything that could cause you any sort of worry or distress. When he doesn't respond to you after another moment, you lean in closer.

"Miguel, I'm always going to worry about you." You whispered, "That's just how I am, but it's because I love you. I love you so much that I can feel how much you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it from me."

"I love you too," he closed the gap to press a kiss to the crease on your forehead, you released a short breath. "I just- I don't know how to say it, I guess."

You placed a hand on his chest, "I can put the pieces together, I just want you to get this off your chest." He wished he had the ability to deny you, you're his weakness, especially when you bat your eyelashes and look at him so sweetly like you have all the love in the world to give.

He tells you as much as he can about his dream, it's all a mess. There were many parts that he wished he could just go back and erase, he didn't even want to go through with this idea in the first place. But you were so... understanding of him, it felt creepy. Not creepy, that wasn't the right word, but it was unsettling.

Being comforted by someone else always made Miguel feel like the other person had a 'holier than thou' attitude, that or he was horribly pitied to the point where he didn't want to keep opening up anymore. You carried none of those qualities, you simply nodded, listened in pure silence, but you'd chime in with some remarks every now and again. He doesn't know how he got so lucky with you.

You gave him some advice. Miguel's experiences were gut-wrenching which resulted to his night terrors, but you could share the sentiment. To some degree, at least. The advice was to just talk about it, letting that feeling build over time and dreading the next time you fall asleep would result to more casualties in the long run. And that if he had no other people to turn to, you were the first on his roster (granted he'd talk to you first anyway, but that's besides the point).

After putting away his empty plate, you joined him in bed again, it's probably still very late into the night, only three hours until you get up for work, but you didn't mind as long as you got to spend it with Miguel. However he wishes to.

The feeling of yours lips on his forehead, face nuzzled into his hair while your fingers drew shapes into his back.

The way he wrapped his arms around your hips, slotting one of his legs in between yours, and the sound of your heartbeat.

He falls into a blissful sleep, knowing you will protect him from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. For once in his life, Miguel has been taken care of and he's so glad that it's you.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #fluff #hurt/comfort

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waynes-multiverse · 1 year

Text

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓��

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #writing request #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic

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heavenlylie · 9 months

Text

how you lost the girl

pairing: jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a rainy night makes you think back to your relationship with jenna, but a unexpected appearance interrupts your thoughts.

warnings: angst<3

word count: 3k

a/n: flashbacks are in italics!! heavily based on "how you get the girl" by taylor mother but ofc i had to make it angst..

The rain was relentless, pounding against the windowpane as if mirroring the turmoil inside your heart. Six months had passed since that fateful day when your relationship with Jenna crumbled like a fragile porcelain doll.

The apartment felt empty, its corners echoing with the memories of laughter, whispers, and stolen kisses that had once filled the space with warmth and love.

You chuckled, shaking your head at Jenna's silly behavior. She had just thrown flour all over you while you were trying to bake a batch of cookies using a recipe from your phone. "You are so weird," you said.

As the flour settled on your face, you couldn't help but laugh. She had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but you couldn't deny that her antics always made you smile.

"Alright, alright," you said, trying to hold back your laughter. "I think that's enough flour for one day."

Jenna giggled and brushed some of the excess flour off of her apron. Oh, come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I have plenty of adventure in my life, thank you very much."

Jenna smirked. "Oh really? Do tell." You smiled and leaned in closer to her.

"Well, for starters, there's this." And with that, you closed the distance between you and kissed her deeply.

The flour on your face was forgotten as you lost yourselves in the moment. Jenna's lips were soft against yours, and it felt like you could kiss her forever.

Eventually, you broke apart, both of you breathless and grinning from ear to ear. You brushed some of the flour off of Jenna's cheek, and she laughed, looking up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

"I guess I'll have to clean this mess up," you said, gesturing to the kitchen, which was now covered in a thin layer of white powder.

Jenna smiled mischievously. "Oh let's just leave it for now," she said, stepping closer to me again and placing her hand on your waist.

"Why don't we go do something else instead?" She suggested, looking up at you seductively through her lashes.

You chuckled softly and pulled her closer until your bodies were pressed together. "That sounds like an excellent idea," You agreed. And then you were off into the night, leaving the kitchen far behind you in a flurry of kisses and laughter.

You stood by the window, gazing out at the rain-soaked streets, your thoughts consumed by memories of her. You had tried so hard to move on and rebuild your life without Jenna, but the pain of her absence lingered like a ghost haunting your every step.

The rain made you wonder how everything had gone so wrong. Jenna was the love of your life, or so you thought. But things had spiraled out of control, and now here you were, alone and heartbroken.

"Maybe we could watch a movie tonight," Jenna suggested, her eyes on the road as she drove home after a long day of traveling.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at her. "Do you seriously have energy to watch a movie after a whole day of work plus flying home from New York?"

Jenna shrugged, a playful grin spreading across her face. "I'll have plenty of energy if the movie is interesting enough."

You chuckled again, admiring Jenna's mischievous spirit. Even after a long day, she was always up for a little excitement. As you pulled up to your house, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having her by your side.

Once inside, Jenna immediately made her way to the couch, scrolling through Netflix with a determined look on her face. You grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and settled in beside her, laying your head on her shoulders.

"What do you feel like watching?" you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

"Hmm, how about something with a little action and a lot of sex?" Jenna winked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement. "You never change, do you?"

Jenna leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "Why should I?" She said with a wide grin.

You turned away from the window, your heart heavy with a mixture of anger and longing. How can someone just disappear from your life without a proper explanation?

The hurt ran deep, leaving scars that no amount of time seemed capable of healing. As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. Your heart raced in your chest as you cautiously approached the entrance. Who would be at your door at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday?

A sudden knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You hesitated for a moment before making your way to the door. You opened it to find Jenna standing in front of you, drenched to the bone by the rain, her eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you gazed into her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. She looked up at you, and for a moment, neither of you said a word, the silence between you heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions.

"Are you insane?" Your voice wavered and your eyebrows furrowed, a mix of anger and vulnerability evident in your tone. "Showing up here like this after all this time?"

Jenna swallowed hard, her own emotions starting to overwhelm her. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have left the way I did. I miss you."

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you―anger, hurt, and a deep, gnawing desire for her. You wanted her to explain why she had left and make things right. But at the same time, you couldn't ignore the intense longing you had for her, the way your heart leapt at the sight of her.

You wanted to pull her into your arms, to feel her warmth and sweet smell again, but you held yourself back. You needed to know the truth before even considering letting her in again.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice was cold and distant. As much as you wanted her, she didn’t deserve to see you cry. "You just disappeared without a word."

Jenna took a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. "I was scared," she said, her voice shaking. "I didn't know how to deal with everything that was happening between us. I needed time to figure things out."

You felt a pang of sadness and hurt at her admission. How could she have just left without telling you? "You could have talked to me, Jenna," you said, a hint of anger creeping into your voice. "We could have worked through things together."

"I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I regret it every day. But I'm here now, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

You shook your head, looking at her with an evident hurt in your face. "And it took you six months to come back? I mean, you left without giving me an explanation or looking back. Can you even begin to understand how much that hurt?" You said with tears in your eyes, holding them back for as long as you could.

Your gaze hardened, but her eyes held a glimmer of something that resembled hope. "A long six months, and you were too afraid to tell me what you wanted. Is that it?"

Jenna looked down, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her wet shirt. "I was afraid," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of losing you, of losing everything we had built together."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "And you think just showing up here in the middle of the night is going to make everything better?" You asked, your tone laced with a hint of bitterness.

Jenna looked up at you, her eyes filled with tears. "No," she said. "I know it won't. But I had to try. I had to see you, to tell you how much I love you, and to ask for your forgiveness."

You felt a knot form in your stomach at her words. Despite everything that had happened, you still loved her, and the thought of being without her had been unbearable. But at the same time, you couldn't just forget all the pain she had caused and let her back in your life.

The rain continued to pour outside, the drops tapping against the windowpane like a somber melody. You stood there, facing Jenna, contemplating your next move. It was tough to ignore the pain she had caused you, but at the same time, the love you had for her wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that.

You decide to speak up, knowing staring at her for too long would only hurt even more. "And what do you want, Jenna? You left because you were scared, now what?"

Jenna looked up at you with hopeful eyes, willing you to understand. "I want us to be together again. I want to make it work, to do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

You sighed, feeling torn between your desire to have her back in your life and the hurt she had caused you. "It's not that simple, Jenna," you said, your voice softening a bit. "You can't just waltz back into my life and expect everything to be okay. You hurt me beyond what I could ever even imagined. You are a coward, you should’ve fought for us, for me!" You said in a louder tone, letting your emotions take over, and the tears you were fighting back streamed down your face.

Jenna's eyes filled with tears as she listened to you, her own emotions starting to bubble up to the surface. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was a coward. I should have fought for us, for you. But I was scared, and I didn't know what to do, can't you understand that?"

"No! Because I don't want to be your dirty little secret, I deserve more than that! I deserve a girlfriend who’ll take me to her family’s Christmas dinner, a girlfriend who’s not afraid of what other people in the media will say about her relationship!" You said now crying almost uncontrollably. You wanted to hate her, you deserve better. But she was Jenna—your Jenna.

Jenna shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a mixture of shame and love in her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry," she said. "I want to make it up to you, to be the girlfriend you deserve. Please forgive me."

You sighed. You wanted so much to believe her, but a part of you still felt that she was just trying to make things better for herself. "I don't know," you said, shaking your head.

"I'll do anything you want, I just want to win you back!" Jenna pleaded, tears and drops of rain streaming down her face.

You looked at her, knowing deep down she meant every word, but you still felt the hurt. It was an impossible situation, and you didn't know what to say.

Everything seemed to fall silent for an endless moment once again, and the weight of the situation settled in. The silence was almost deafening, and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes again at the thought of never seeing her again.

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions. You knew that Jenna had hurt you deeply, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still had for her. "I need time, Jenna," you said, your voice softening. "Time to think about everything that's happened, and time to decide if I can forgive you."

Jenna's eyes filled with tears once again, but this time they were tears of hope rather than desperation. "I understand," she said, her voice shaking. "I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I deserve your forgiveness."

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. Maybe things could work out between you and Jenna, but it wouldn't be easy. "And I need space, Jenna," you said softly. "I need time to process everything and figure out what I want."

Jenna nodded, her eyes still filled with tears. "It's okay, I get it," she said again. "I'll give you all the space you need. But please don't shut me out completely."

You gave her a small smile, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of not seeing her again. "I won't shut you out completely, Jenna," you said. "But I need to take things one day at a time."

Jenna nodded again, wiping away her tears.

You watched as she turned to leave, her footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floor. As she reached the door, she turned back to look at you with a sad smile on her face. "I love you," she said softly, before slipping out into the rain and disappearing into the night.

You stood there for a moment, staring after her, unsure of what to do next. The rain continued to pour outside, the drops tapping against the windowpane like a lullaby.

You took a deep breath and let the gravity of the moment wash over you. Jenna had hurt you deeply, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still had for her.

You knew that you needed to take things one day at a time and figure out what you really wanted. Only time will tell if you were willing to take the risk and try to make things work with Jenna again.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x reader

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myabsurddreamjournal · 7 months

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Fate

(part 1)

Soldier Boy x Fem! reader

Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.

warnings: None, im a ace so my character and story is going to be asexual💜

she slowly approached to cryo where they kept him frozen. it has been a while since she had a opportunity to do this. Since she was taken here they always kept an eye on her, watching every move, punishing any sign of disobedience. It didnt take long for her to learn to be silent, be obedient. scar on her arm reminded her to keep her mouth shut every time she wanted to question something they do. She still remembered the pain. It was her second week here, and she made a mistake of asking why they kept him frozen for almost 40 years. She got the scar for her mistake. The sound of her bone breaking... She could still hear it.

Teardrops started to fall from her eyes as she opened the door of cryo, whenever she was alone she was crying now. It almost became a ritual, sitting on floor with her head hanging low while confessing and apologising to him. Who looked like a statue of a almighty god.

"Hello Ben" she opened her mouth. It made her feel weird hearing her voice saying something other than "yes", or "sir"

"its september 19 today, your birthday isn't it?" she was crying harder now. "i read your file other day. It says you had a rough childhood, me too you know, and now we are both prisoners here. What a fate huh?" she looked at his face as she said that. He looked pale, too pale for human. Well he was in this damn lab for almost 40 years...but deep down she liked the thought of him being something other than a human. Humans always hurted her after all.

After watching the torture tapes she learned he experienced pain and anger just like her. (she threw up all night after seeing the tapes for the first time) he had a life once, he was a child, he had a family. favorite food, favorite drink, he even smoked weed which made her a bit shocked when she read it on the files. But in time she found out he was a lot different from what they made him seen. She saw the few unaired interviews where he acted strong and confident as usual until he was asked about his family or childhood. His eyes getting teary for few seconds, Then his hard expression getting back. His mouth twitching every time journalists made a rude remark.

She knew he was a human. But him being alive after all things human did to him told her he was also something other than human.

and it made her feel good.

"i never wanted to be here, i never wanted this, she said. "i wish i could save you. If i had a powers like you, i would burn here to the ground. And kill all of them. But im so weak. Im so sorry Ben. Im so sorry." She waited there for few minutes. Her head between her hands. Until tiny beeping sound from her watch made her flinch. Telling her it was almost midnight. She needed to get up. Too many work tomorrow. Another day as a prisoner here

She cupped his cheek before closing the door of cyro. It was so cold, but still soft. She couldn't help and kept her hand there while looking at his face. His closed eyelids, then freckles on his nose. Still remembering the first time she noticed his freckles, it was one of the days where her legs hurted for being on her feet for so long. She was taking his blood for monthly test. And she saw them. He had freckles on his nose! They were never shown in his movies or pictures, always hidden behind makeup or his green-gold mask. But they were here. She found them adorable. Never showed it of course. keeping hidden behind her cold emotionless expression.

But she often find herself thinking about him when she tried to sleep at night in "room" they gave her. what else he was hiding under all that persona? What made him happy or sad before all this happened? was it true that he never cried? She tossed and turned at night. Sometimes thinking about him and sometimes thinking about her life. The similitaries between them. Humans hurted him just like they hurted her. They stole their life. She usually fell asleep with this thoughts. And in her dreams it was always end of the World. Everything burning in flames and she watching it from distance with smile on her face.

with a deep exhale she withdrawed her hand from his cheek. "see you tomorrow Ben." she whispered. And she was gone. Not knowing that he heard every word.

that night, she dreamed of something else for the first time since she was captured. Pair of green eyes. They were looking at her. Their shade reminded her a small lake she saw everday when she was a little girl. It was on the right side of the road that she used while walking to school. She always loved the way water moved in small waves. After 2 years, for the first time, she woke up with a warm feeling that morning. it felt like gentle morning sunrise.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #the boys #the boys imagine

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mismatched-sockss · 3 months

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Where I never dared to stand

» Pairing: purely Spencer Reid x fem!Reader [NO JEID whatsoever] » Wordcount: 4k » Warnings: JJ's POV (3rd person), based on Where I Stood by Missy Higgins, we're staying within the realms of canon with this one - this focuses on JJ's feelings and my own interpretations regarding those, spoilers mentioned for s12!Spencer and 13×01 300, heavy spoilers for 14×15 Truth or Dare, kind of for 15×02 Awakenings too (i used a part of the conversation between JJ and Reid about what happend in 14×15), reader is Garcia's college roommate & friend, no time line mentioned but first meeting of Spencer and Reader is said to happen somewhere after JJ married Will to mid s10 (so somewhere from s8×01 to about s10×12, reader and Spencer are together when s10×13 happens), no mentions of Maeve only a vague mention that the last years have been rough for Spencer), » A/N: multiple mentions about reader being a woman / female, use of she/her pronouns, no body description, no mentions of readers clothes --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general » IMPORTANT!!!: i just want to say that i hated the way the writers where forcing the climax of 14×15 through out the whole s14 both on the characters and us, and i hated just about everything about the whole thing in general tbh, (after making Will such a big part of JJ's life JEID was over and done with, i never liked them as a ship in general; just wait until i'll unleash my hate for JJ in the future (hate only regarding the way she is treating Spencer, otherwise i like her for the most part)).... the only reason this fic happened in the way it is, is because i lost track of my initial plan when i got inspiration from the song, but then i kind of got carried away while writing; i tried to capture and bring out JJ's inner conflicts, the guilt she feels about all of it etc

Jennifer Jareau liked you from the moment she saw you, no doubt about it. There was something about you, that uplifted the whole room you were in; it was hard to not be in a good mood when you were around.

Penelope had brought you along for a girl's night one evening. You had been her dorm room-mate in college and fate brought you back into each other's lives, when it just so happened that you moved into the same building she was living in. From then on, you joined them for girl's night on most occasions and it was just a matter of time until Penelope invited you to a party where not only the girls would be attending, but also the rest of the BAU team. It so happened to be Penelope's birthday party.

Everyone could see the sparks fly when Spencer and you met each other then. One look at the both of you was enough to see it; that this was a once in a life time, soulmate kind of thing. The kind of love you could only find in movies or books, the stuff all the cheesy romance movies JJ liked to watch were made of.

Something had stirred in her heart when she saw the two of you interact at Penelope's birthday party; a small ache, something she couldn't quite place at the time. So without further thinking about it, she brushed it away, forgetting all about it in the following days. That is, until the next time she saw the two of you. Together.

It was at one of Rossi's dinner parties not too long after Spencer and you met. Everyone was already accounted for in Rossi's backyard, except for Spencer. The doorbell rang and Rossi went to open the door; when he got back a big smile was plastered on his face and he was wiggling his brows suggestively. After him, Spencer walked in. With you. Holding hands.

Then and there the ache found it's way back into her heart, a little more persistent then the last time. This time she knew in an instant what it had been.

Jealousy. She couldn't stand your hands on him.

At the realization she had felt dizzy. Had it been any later in the evening she probably could have blamed the dizziness on the wine. But the glass she held in her hand was her first and she had barely nipped on it. No, it was because she was jealous, and the guilt she felt at the same time collided with it and mixed into an even bigger ugly thing that almost swept her off her feet.

Here she was, standing next to her husband and the father of her child, feeling jealous over another woman holding hands with her friend; a friend who she knew once had a thing for her, a friend who she may have had a thing for herself at one point but never even had went on a date with - actively avoided it even, if you thought about it. A friend, who she shouldn't have any feelings for that would call for her to be jealous when he got romantically involved with someone else.

A friend, she instead should be nothing less than happy for, after all the shit he had to go through in his life. She should be happy, that he finally had something good in his life, something that made him smile, something that made him happy. All she wanted was for him to be happy.

Will had commented that Spencer and you looked good together, that you made a cute couple. No matter who much that jealous part of her hated it, she had to agree.

That night at Rossi's she drank a couple more glasses of wine to flush out her confusing emotions than she maybe should have. When someone said something, she successfully played it off as being able to let go for an evening since her mother was watching Henry for the whole weekend. Luckily Will was okay with it, and even was pampering her the next day when she had a bad case of hangover.

After a short time, when JJ had sorted out her feelings, she really was happy for Spencer. So incredibly happy for him; that he had found his person. His safe haven. His forever.

And everyone could see it. That the two of you were perfect for each other.

She didn't think she had seen him this happy since... Ever, actually. Life had never been exactly easy on Spencer, but the last years had been especially rough for him. You were his rock when Gideon died, were there for him when his mom got worse and additionally stayed with her when he had to leave for a case after he took her in – oh, how much Diana loved you. You were the only person except for Spencer who she would let come close when she had an episode and was chasing the nurses away he hired. After he had been arrested in Mexico you as good as moved into his place to help (the nurse with) Diana. Whenever JJ came to visit her with the boys, she was amazed by the way you cared for Diana, so patient and understanding and affectionate, and how she would let you take care of her.

When Spencer had to go on mandatory leave after prison and the whole shit-show with Cat, JJ watched as you broke down the walls he had build around his heart in those three months he was locked away. She watched as you crumbled them down until you reached him again and then you gave him a new ground to build on, a ground back in safety and trust and love.

You broke his walls down, like JJ would never have been able to. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she could stand the fact, she just knew she should.

Back then, all those years ago when Spencer had sat down next to her on the jet with the Red Skin's tickets in his hand and asked her to go, she was scared. She knew that now, had realized it when Spencer and Penelope had been abducted by Meadows and the Messiah, when Emily spoke with her in the restroom and JJ was going crazy with worry about her best friends. Before, it had never really clicked for her, that maybe that was why she had invited Penelope to come with them to the game. Because a little voice in the back of her head had been whispering to her telling her to run, to turn away from him. She was scared of what could be, of what others might say and think.

Scared of hurting Spencer.

Deep down, she knew even back then, that she wasn't right for him.

And then, a year later, she met Will and the more serious their relationship got, the more any feelings for Spencer became platonic in nature. And it was good the way it was: working with each other, being friends. Maybe even something like best friends. It was enough.

She was happy with Will. She loved Will. She couldn't imagine life without him. The what if's and could have been's about Spencer hadn't been on JJ's mind in a very, very long time. Never really gone if she had to be honest, but not at the forefront of her thoughts all the same.

And since being honest was the keyword for today, here in this jewellery store forced with a gun pointing at her and Spencer and the other hostage, a rapid back and forth that could spiral more out of control with every passing second, the Truth she had to admit today, could change everything she had in her life.

"Truth." JJ swallowed after she said it and bit on the insides of her cheeks. Stand strong, show no fear; that was what she repeated in her head again and again, trying to fight of the raging panic that kept rising up in her chest ever since the guy had fired a warning shot in Spencer's direction just a moment ago.

"I want you to say something, you're afraid to say", the Unsub spat through gritted teeth. Saliva was pooling at the corners of his lips and the hand he was holding the gun in was shaking uncontrollably, “That you'd never tell anybody. And you better make it good!” He didn't take a step closer, he only shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but with the way he accentuated every word he was screaming with a movement of his hand, she felt like he was coming closer. Like he was placing the barrel of the gun closer to her body with every twitch, until he'd be able to press it right onto her sternum. “'Cause if it's not, it's gonna be the last thing you ever say!”

Her nostrils flared as she took a slow breath in, trying to calm her nerves enough to find an answer and to give him the answer without a waver in her voice.

“What's it gonna be?” This time when he shifted his weight, he did take a small step closer to her.

By the way her nose was aching and her eyes were burning she knew it would only be a matter of moments until the tears would fall. She blinked to keep the tears away a bit longer and avoiding eye contact with the Unsub, only looking at him for a second. When she answered, she cursed herself for how shaky her voice was. “There are only four people it trust in this world.”

“Boring”, he commented in a weird sing-sang before he pointed the weapon down and shot the Judge in the leg. The gun was immediately pointed back at JJ. “Next!”

The gunshot had drowned out the whimper she hadn't been able to hold back. And when the deadly attention was back on her, she immediately went back in to position - stand strong, show no fear. The second part almost wasn't manageable any more for her. “Uhm”, she let out, again racking her brain for an answer, something the would finally accept. What could she say? What was she willing to say?

“My, uhm.” The pained whimpers of the woman in front of her as she slowly slid down the cabinet distracted her, she wasn't sure if she was welcoming the distraction or not. JJ felt bad for even remotely feeling thankful that the woman was in pain. “My baby, I lost, I um-”, she looked around, first meeting the Unsubs gaze, then at a random point at the wall and back to him. The emotions bubbling up in her almost choked her and she had to clear her throat. She didn't want to tell him this, but she had to. “- wanted to name her Maggie.”

“BULL!”, he screamed and JJ jumped. “Come on, you can do better than that!” Again, waving the gun, closer and closer.

Spencer tried to get his attention and pull it away from her, calling out the Unsub's name. “Casey...!”

Now the gun was pointed at Spencers head. “SHUT UP!” And again with the uncontrolled waving and twitching. JJ felt like she couldn't breathe.

She jumped again when Casey suddenly was right in front of her, forcefully grabbing into the hair at the back of her head, pushing her down to her knees with the tight grip and possibly even pulling some strands out. “Okay, okay..”, she mumbled, whimpered. What could she say?

“Last chance! Something you'd never say aloud. Not even to your partner here.” For a moment he waved his gun at Spencer again. “Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I'll kill him.”

It was the first thing that came to her mind when the Unsub demanded this, and threatened Spencer's life. It was the only thing that fought its way through the panic. The panic that had clouded her mind for anything else but the need for survival. Hers. Spencers.

She couldn't hold back her tears any more. In a desperate attempt to catch Spencer's gaze, she darted her eyes to his direction. At the same time the guilt that was already coming over her and trying to pull her down, before she even said one word and it made her look away from him.

“COME ON!”

So she said it. Hoping, it would be enough to save their lives. Hoping, her fear of losing her best friend would stay just that. A fear. Hoping, that they would walk out of here alive and that nothing would change between them. That even after saying what she was about to say, they could go on like before, that they would be okay. Selfish as it was, JJ couldn't lose him. She just didn't know who she was without Spencer in her life. Her best friend, her confidant. Her fi-... She knew she should know it, that it made no sense to feel like this. But she couldn't help needing him.

With a shy look on her face, she turned to her friend, took a deep breath.

"Spence, uhm,” she started, shooting him a pained smile to ease his nerves and her own. And he looked at her, waiting for her to continue, with a sad but still vary and concentrated shimmer in his eyes. He was sitting weidly stiff and there was ovment in his shoulders but she wasn't able to focus on anything else than his face.

Or not, because JJ had to look away. She didn't think she could say this while directly looking at him. This was just too...

“I've always loved you", she admits, helplessly shrugging her shoulder as she said it. You meant more to me than anyone I loved before you, before Will.

It took Spencer a moment to understand, what she is saying. How she meant those three words, that they had said a lot of times to each other over the years, in a platonic way.

His eyes slightly widened when the words sink in. The true meaning behind them.

“And I wasjusttooscaredtosay it before.” Her words came out in a blur, almost undistinguishable. She exhaled and looked away, shook the hair out of her face with a quick motion of her head. And as she tried to bite back her tears,she scoffed. “And now, things are just”, the sob leaving her throat almost sounded like a laugh, “far too complicated to say it now.” I am married and have kids, my kids are your godsons. You have a girlfriend, the love of your life waiting for you at home. These are the things she didn't say, didn't need to say. Didn't want to say in front of everyone else in the room.

Maybe she did laugh. The situation was so absurd, so surreal. It almost didn't feel real if there wouldn't be this gun pointed at her.

With tears running down her face she forced herself to look at Spencer. “I'm sorry”, she breathed out. “But you should know.” In case I die here. In case you die here. I had to let you know.

He didn't give away what he was thinking or feeling, had closed off the expressions on his face after the initial shock. The whisper of a sad smile stretched his lips as an acknowledgement when she stopped talking.

The giggle the Unsub let out, made the bile rise into JJ's throat.

“Hot damn”, he laughed, switching between looking at her and Spencer. “That's what I'm talking about.”

Neither of them looked up at the man standing over them, caught in a silent conversation. Did I just destroy everything? - Don't worry. At least that was what she hoped he was saying with his eyes.

“Now those are some last words right there.” Could this guy please, please, please just stop waving the god damn gun around!?

For the fracture of a second, everything fell from JJ's shoulders. The guilt, the sorrow, the fear. She did it, her confessions had been enough. Worthy of saving them. Just when the muscles in her body relaxed, the gun was pointed back right in to her face, mere inches away. “But not good enough to safe your life!” Spit landed on her face.

JJ readied herself, even with the immense fear shooting through her whole body so harsh her body felt numb. The hole of the barrel drew her eyes to it, hypnotized her. For some reason, she started a countdown in her head.

Three, two – BANG!

Casey's legs gave out and he grunted as his weapon fell out of his hand and he helds his stomach. Then, he collapsed, his dead-weight body falling into the space between her and Spencer. Her brain had problems catching up after already checking out, after making some kind of peace with her immediate death.

She looked from the dead body, to Spencer and the gun in his hand, too stunned to ask or think about how he had managed to free his hands and where the gun came from.

They didn't speak a word to each other after their team burst in, there neither had been the time nor a fitting occasion to talk. They didn't speak until some time later in the evening, after the team made it back, just in time to get cleaned up and celebrate David's & Krystall's marriage.

When they finally shared some words when they both headed to the bar to get something to drink, they didn't talk long.

JJ was nervous. A whole lot of new what if's regarding Spencer were now on her mind. What if he hates me now? What if he wants nothing to do with me any more? What if he leaves me? She hated herself for being so selfish when the last one crossed her mind. She had been prepared to take this secret with her to her grave. But she had needed to say some thing real, something that would not only get the Unsubs attention, but also Spencers. Only then could she have made sure to get a chance at getting them out of there. She was sorry for spilling her secret, for doing this to him and burdening him with it. But now it was out an she couldn't take it back.

“So I, uh, I didn't get a chance to... say it back there, but...”, she started before saying anything else about her confession, having to start the conversation at least somewhere. “Thank you... for saving my life.” She smiled at him.

“You're welcome.” He nodded his head, a small smile stretching in his lips as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She laughed nervously. “So uh, Luke was right, two guns, huh? Since when have you been wearing an ankle holster?”

“Around the time I got out of prison”, Spencer smirked.

“Right.” JJ nodded, then quickly looked away, internally working herself up to get the next words out, the ones she so desperately wanted to ask him. “Look, uh, I... Are- are we, okay?” That was all she could hope for at this point. It was all she wanted. That they were okay.

He smiled at her reassuringly and nodded. “Of course.” His smile and the soft tone his voice held eased her nerves instantly.

She held back a sigh of relief and smiled. “Good.”

They fell silent as they wait, Spencer for his water and JJ for a glass of wine. She softly drummed the tips of her finger on the wood, before she turned around to find where you were standing. When your name fell from her lips Spencers eyes darted to you, not even having to search the room. Like a magnetic pull, something that just came natural to him, knowing where to find you. “She looks beautiful tonight.”

Spencer silently nods as his eyes roam your body, how the fabric of your outfit hugged itself around you. “Yeah”, he breathes out, almost inaudibly. “She is.”

The glass clinking as the drinks were served caught her attention and she turned to take hers into her hand. With her free hand she touched Spencers arm and squeezed lightly. Their gazes met and they shared a smile before she walked away.

Just when JJ got back to the table the music changed into a soft and slow tune. Will took the glass form her hand and pulled her away to dance with her. Happy, she leaned into him, and enjoyed the moment. Enjoyed being in his arms.

She couldn't help but look as Spencer and you found your way to other side of the dance floor. He pulled you so close to him, not even a sheet of paper would have had space between the both of you. He was smiling down at you as you were slowly swaying to the rhythm of the music together and you were smiling up at him just as bright. Lost in each others eyes. Every so often he would lift your intertwined hands from his chest up to plant a kiss to your knuckles, or he would brush the tip of his nose against yours before he stole a quick kiss from your lips. Not for one second losing the bright smile, that all but screamed that he was drunk on love.

Spencer was JJ's first love, and the first love is something special, something you can't just erase out of your heart as if it never had made it's home in there in the first place. He was a big piece of her heart and would always be. But she had never even dared to try and stand where you were standing now. By his side; as his partner, his equal. His other half. His forever.

Even if she wouldn't have Will and her two beautiful boys - and don't get me wrong, she wouldn't trade her life with her family for the world-, the way the two of you were clinging to each other right now, looking like you were deeply sunken into your own little universe where no one else existed; and so full of bliss and love for each other... There was no way she would destroy this, no way she would break you two apart.

There was nothing in the world that could break Spencer and you apart.

JJ couldn't hear what you were whispering about, she could only guess by the way you looked at each other and giggled occasionally. The longer you danced it seemed like you were melting into each other, merging your bodies and souls together to form one.

Emily's speech from earlier ringed in her ears then. Penelope says, that this was fate. That [their marriage] was in the stars. [They] are twin flames. Two souls, that are always meant to be together. […] The thing about twin flames is, that nothing can keep them apart.

It was similar to something she had heard Spencer himself say once: "There's an old Buddhist saying, that, when you meet your soulmate, […] the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." She thought both descriptions were fitting for what you and Spencer had.

As she let her eyes linger on your swaying forms, she suddenly felt like she was intruding something personal and intimate, so she averted her gaze and turned her head away. She rested her cheek against her husbands chest as she faced the other way and closed her eyes. JJ hugged Will closer and as his own hold on her tightened he rested his chin on the crown of her head.

It wasn't fair that she loved Spencer. Because she loved Will and her two boys too. Her family had made her who she was. But so had Spencer.

It wasn't fair to anyone involved.

She had never meant to hurt him, never. She just wanted him to be happy. And you made him happy.

No matter who much she loves Spencer now, had loved him before and would continue to love him, she could never love him as much as you did; the woman who stood where JJ never even had dared to stand.,

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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valya-dudycz-lupescu · 2 years

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Musings on Ice-Pick Joe

I'm not sure why no one is talking about Ice-Pick Joe's death scene, especially with rumors of the Ice-Pick Joe prequel circulating the internet.

The scene where Ice-Pick Joe walked by Sofia's window on his way to the fateful meeting with Katya, stopping to lean against the light post long enough to see two silhouettes come together. (I can't be the only one who was getting Blue Velvet vibes in that scene?) Why isn't anyone talking about his longing? The voyeurism? His fear of abandonment stemming from childhood trauma...after all, his mother picked him, of all his siblings, to leave at the orphanage! She left him with nothing but those appleseeds that he carried around in his pockets.

I'm absolutely sure that Sofia was the unnamed child in Joe's flashback (Jodie Foster was so good as the scrappy, androgynous best friend. She did have a limp in that scene when they were running from the cemetery. We don't actually know at what age Sofia lost her leg. And Donny Osmond was the perfect young Ice-Pick Joe!)

If you watch closely, she had the same birthmark on her shoulder in that first awkward kiss scene that Sofia had when she and Katya fought that night of her birthday, when she ripped her blouse and threw her glass of champagne at the wall.)

But back to Joe on the empty street, those shadows against the wall like shadow puppets, and the way the clock motif came back at that moment? Such haunting music, reprised again in the film score during Joe's death (I still cry when I hear "The Demise of Ice-Pick Joe". Linking to it here, because I played it on repeat when the movie was over. Brilliant and haunting.)

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Remember how the flashbacks showed us that Ice-Pick Joe was really superstitious and believed that he had inherited his grandmother's gifts? If you watch the way Joe looks at the shadows and then down at his watch, you can see him hesitate before going to the docks. Was he hearing voices?

Most people agree that the shadows on the wall looked like a child, but I'm not sure that Ice-Pick Joe's hesitation to go to the dock was about his own son. I think the shadows looked more like that kiss flashback when he and Sofia were children. The frame and perspective are almost the same angle, as if they are being watched from below.

Either way, he is clearly making the choice to leave the past behind that brings him to his tragic and senseless death.

I would love to know what happened that took that gentle young Joe who loved to sing and turned him into the tortured stoic we meet in Goncharov, the only affection reserved for his cat, Mrs. Claws.

(I can't help but wonder if they meant for her to be an echo of Le Befana, the Italian winter witch-goddess who sometimes gets translated as Mrs. Claus? After all, his mama's last words to him when she kissed him goodbye were, "If you're a very good boy, maybe La Befana will bring you to a new home on Epiphany morning, a warm home full of food and presents." Poor Joe never finds that home.) You know, I think that was the first time I heard about Le Befana, and that was one of the inspirations that led me down the road to my own version of Mother Christmas.

Does anyone know if it's true that the Ice-Pick Joe prequel got permission to use "Hotel California" as its theme song? I wonder if we're going to get the story of his time as an unskilled laborer in the vineyards of Napa in the 60s? I was never clear about how he got to America and then back to Italy with a small fortune and hitman skills? They're saying it's like Better Call Saul meets the Sopranos meets Twin Peaks. I'm here for it, especially if they can get Cole Sprouse to play young Ice-Pick Joe.

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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The Stars Align | Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Your hopeless crush on Eddie Munson might not be so hopeless after all thanks to a trip to family video

Content: fluff, Steve has a little crush on you but you’re into eddie, swearing, making out, mentions of bullying, she/her pronouns, reader is a year younger than Eddie

Word Count: 3.1K

a/n: i haven’t posted a fic in so long i’m so happy i was actually able to finish something! i hope you all enjoy :)

divider by @firefly-in-darkness

“Oh my god, Robin, she’s here! How does my hair look?” Steve asks frantically as he sees your car pull into family video. “Who is it this week?” She sighs, growing tired of seeing Steve strike out again and again.

“You already know who it is. I’ve been using my best work for weeks and…nothing” he groans. “Really? Telling her about the time you had a dental emergency due to milk duds is your best work?”

Before Steve can respond, the bell above the door rings and you walk in, looking as pretty as ever.

“H-hey! Haven’t seen you in a while. I hope you aren’t cheating on us with blockbuster” Steve says when you approach the counter and Robin cringes so much that she has to walk away.

“Nope” you say with a laugh “I’ve just been busy, but I finally have a night to myself. Can you check if you have a movie for me?”

“yeah, anything for you- I mean, um anything for a loyal customer not like I’d do anything for you. Well, I might, but not in a weird way-”

“Steve” you chuckle “I didn’t think it was anything weird. Until now”

“Right, yeah. Sorry. Anyways, what movie are ya lookin’ for?” He sits at the computer to pull up the movies on file. “Nightmare on Elm Street”

“Actually, my friend, Eddie, rented that yesterday, but I can see if he’s watched it yet so he can bring it back for you?” he suggests

“Eddie munson? You’re friends with him?”

“Oh, yeah, but don’t worry he doesn’t actually worship the devil he’s just like this huge nerd with a weird taste in music”

“No, I know. I just, uh, think he’s really cute”

“Oh” he says in a bit of disbelief. he’s been trying to ask you out for weeks and this whole time you’ve had the hots for Eddie. “You think he’s cute?” Robin asks, appearing out of nowhere with a big smile on her face.

“y-yeah. there’s something about the big brown eyes and long hair, i guess” you sigh, dreamily while Steve thinks hey, i’m a guy with brown eyes and a lot of hair.

“Ya know what, feel free to look around and we’ll take care of something real quick” Robin says and you wander off to the horror section.

“Call Eddie” She tells Steve.

“What? Why?”

“This is fate, Steve. She wants to rent the same movie Eddie just rented and she also happens to be, like, totally in love with him” She states and he rolls his eyes. “In love, Robin? She said he was cute because he has eyes and hair.”

“Aw, you’re jealous.” she teases. “Well, kinda. I wanted to ask her out and I haven’t had any luck in months with anyone.” Steve whines

“Think about it. Do you really wanna ask a girl out who’s into one of your closest friends? That’s obviously a recipe for disaster, so call him” Robin says and Steve groans. He hates when she’s right, but he picks up the phone and dials anyway.

“Hey, munson. Have you watched Nightmare on Elm Street yet?”

“I got it yesterday, Steve, what’s the rush?”

“There’s a pretty girl here who wants to rent it”

“And what do I have to do with that?” Eddie asks, thinking Steve is just trying to use his ‘position of power’ (Steve’s words, literally no one else's) to try and impress any cute girl that walks through the door.

“Well, somehow the universe keeps finding ways to laugh at me because when I told her my friend Eddie has it she said you were cute or something” you can overhear Steve and you could die of embarrassment. You had flashbacks to middle school when your best friend told your crush that you liked him and he made fun of you for the rest of the school year.

“I am cute, Harrington and you know it. Who is she?”

Steve tells him your name and Eddie's heart practically stops for a second. He can’t believe the pretty girl he’s had a crush on for years thinks he’s cute.

“I’ll be right there” Eddie says before hanging up and sprinting out the door with Nightmare on Elm Street in hand.

“Welcome to Fam- Oh, it’s just you. She’s in the horror section” Steve grumbles when Eddie walks in. “Why do you have that look on your face?” Eddie asks Robin. Her eyes are big, smile even bigger with a hint of her ‘I just came up with a master plan’ look. “No reason, just go find your girl”

Eddie strolls over to find you and you look as gorgeous as always. You’re wearing a dress that stops halfway down your thighs, leaving your beautiful legs exposed, your lips shimmer from the gloss you put on, and you have an adorable look of concentration on your face as you look through the movie selection.

“Hey, you must be the pretty girl who’s just dying to watch this movie” He finally speaks up after admiring you. You turn to him and smile “you brought this back for me? you didn’t have to do that. did you at least get a chance to watch it?” You walk closer to him and the smell of your perfume makes him crazy. Everything about you just gets better and better.

“No, but it’s alright. I saw it in theaters, so it’s no biggie”

“Now I feel bad. You obviously wanted to watch it again and i’m only renting it because I’m like the only person who hasn’t seen it yet”

“You haven’t seen this masterpiece yet? It came out four years ago” he gasps and holds up the movie, making you giggle. Music to his ears.“I know. I’m lame”

There’s a beat of silence and if anyone were to look at Eddie, they could practically see the wheels turning in his head. For years, he’s been trying to find a way to work up the courage to just talk to you and now it feels like he’s been presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Maybe we could watch it together” he suggests and feels like he’s stopped breathing until you give him an answer. You look up at him with your captivating eyes and nervously fiddle with your hands. “Yeah, I’d really like that” you respond and Eddie feels like he could do ten cartwheels right here in the middle of the isle. Little does he know you feel the same way.

“Yeah? Are you free tonight around eight?’’ He asks and you nod. “Can I get your address?”

Luckily, you had a scrap piece of paper and a pen in your purse and you write down his address with shaky hands due to the nerves from being asked on by the guy you’ve been hopelessly pining after for years.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?” He asks as you both walk over to the door. Steve and Robin are watching you both like hawks, but quickly act like they are working when Eddie shoots them a glare.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” you promise and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Me too. I mean, of course I will, it’s my house so why wouldn’t I be there, um, anyways I’m gonna go before I say something stupid again” He chuckles, nervously.

“I should go too. Thank you for bringing that movie back” You touch his arm in appreciation and his head spins at the feeling of your touch. “No problem. Plus, this movie might be too scary for you to watch alone”

“Yeah? Are you gonna protect me?’’ you step closer to him, hand still on his arm.

“With my life, sweetheart”

Ten minutes before eight, you park outside of Eddie’s trailer. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after wanting this for as long as you can remember.

You had transferred to Hawkins High your junior year, which was Eddie’s first senior year and you’d been smitten since. On your first day, he had one of his infamous outbursts in the cafeteria, and while everyone else was mortified, you couldn’t help but be intrigued at his passion. He was always loud and never let anyone’s opinions of him change who he was. It was admirable

The two of you never had many interactions besides when you’d let him borrow a pen in science class. You were always too afraid to ever say anything to him about the way you felt, and when you graduated while he stayed behind, you’d thought your chance had passed you by. Now, three years after you graduated, you’re standing outside his front door about to watch a movie with him. Life is funny like that.

“Hey- fuck, you look good” Eddie’s words slip out before he can process that he said it out loud and you chuckle “Really? I just threw on some comfy clothes, but thank you”

“You always look good. Anyways, welcome to my humble abode” He bows and motions for you to come inside. You look around once you're inside, taking in your surroundings. You’re in Eddie Munson’s living room and you know it’s silly, but it feels like things are finally falling into place.

“Make yourself at home, I’m gonna get the popcorn. Do you want anything to drink? I got some coke it you want one”

“Yeah, that’d be great” you answer as you sit on the couch. He puts the popcorn in a bowl and pours you both a drink. You take note of the Garfield mug he’s put his drink in and you smile at how adorable he is.

“Lights on or off?” he asks after he puts the movie in. “Off, obviously. Gotta have the whole experience, right” He nods in agreement, turning off all the lights until the tv is the only illuminations. When he sits on the couch, he sits right next to you leaving no space and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Eddie’s confidence seems to grow in the dark. He does that cheesy thing where he pretends to yawn and stretch so he can put his arm around you. It’s cliche, but it makes both of you smile, nonetheless.

As you sense a jumpscare approaching, you nestle closer to his side and hide your face in his neck. He can feel your breath fanning on his skin and he can’t seem to think straight. When you hear a scream from the television, you jump a little and he chuckles. “This coming from the girl who wanted to turn the lights off” he jokes

“Hey, don’t make fun of me. I was promised protection and that’s supposed to come without torment” You move your head to look at him and when he looks back at you, your faces are so close together your noses are almost touching. You’re about to put your lips on his until another scream comes from the movie, causing you to jump again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks in a whisper. “yeah, anything” you move to position yourself more comfortably, but still close to him.

“I’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you since high school” he confesses and your eyes widen in surprise. “you have not”

“Cross my heart. You were the only person to smile at me when I’d pass you in the halls. You weren’t afraid of me like everyone else.”

“Why would I be afraid of you? You’ve always seemed like a teddy bear wrapped in leather to me.” You think it sounds too cheesy when you hear it out loud, but Eddie thinks it makes you even sweeter.

“Teddy bear, huh? I didn’t work this hard for my bad boy image to be compared to a stuffed animal” he jokes. “Bad boy image?” you scoff “You’re drinking out of a garfield mug”

“Alright, you got me there, but Garfield is a total badass”

“If you say so. Can I tell you something now?” you ask and he lets out an mhmm before you continue. “I’ve had a crush on you since highschool, too.”

“No shit? I mean Steve told me you thought I was cute but I thought he was just fucking with me” Eddie seems to be playing it cool at your confession, but he’s screaming on the inside.

“It was my first day at Hawkins and you were hard to not take notice of after one your cafeteria spiels. I remember everyone thinking you were obnoxious or a freak, but I was just enamored with you.”

“You never thought I was some satanist sacrificing children? I think you were the only one” he huffs out a laugh. Eddie’s life has been easier since high school. He still gets some weird looks every now and then, but things have calmed down. Although he always put on a brave face, some of those days were harder than others. It’s nice to know that you never thought he could be capable of doing those things he was accused of.

“I always felt guilty that I never stood up for you. I hated watching them berate you and what I hated even more is that I was too scared to ever say anything to them” you say, looking down at your lap to avoid eye contact.

“Don’t feel guilty about that. They wouldn’t have stopped anyways” he places his hand on your thigh and you turn your head to look at him. He has a look of appreciation in his eyes, like he’s trying to let you know that you didn’t need to say anything to those assholes. Just you being thoughtful for him is enough.

“I even left a note in your locker one day. It was when one of those idiots tore pages out of your campaign notebook and I guess I just wanted you to know that there was someone on your side”

“That was you? It’s been driving me crazy for years trying to figure out who that was!”

“you got it?” your eyes light up.

“I did. Still have it, too. This is probably embarrassing, but I’d read it whenever I had a bad day. I guess I didn’t want anyone to know that anything ever got to me and that I was above it all” He sighs. Eddie likes that he can be vulnerable with you. He hardly ever opens up to anyone about anything, but there’s just something about you that makes him comfortable. He feels like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him for a second.

“Do you still have it? The note?” you ask and he scurries to his room to rummage through his nightstand where he keeps it.

“Closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a love letter” he says before handing you the piece of paper that reads:

Eddie,

Sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how they treat you. I think you’re awesome and I hope you think that too. This town is a little less shitty with you in it. Never change

P.s. you look really good with long hair please don’t cut it

You chuckle when you read the last line. “I can’t believe you kept it. I knew I was right when I called you a teddy bear. You’re secretly a big softie, huh?”

“The softest. But only for you, yeah?”

“So that crush on me you had in high school… do you still have it?”

“It never went away, but now it’s even bigger than some teenage puppy dog shit”

Everything around you seems to drown out. You’re too focused on how close Eddie’s face is to your own. His lips look so soft and pillowy, the perfect shade of pink. You scan over the rest of his face, entranced with his beauty. His eyes are even prettier up close. You could count his eyelashes with how little distance there is between the two of you and you think that one day you will.

Right now, the one thing you’ve wanted the most is quite literally staring you right in the face. Not a loud sound from the movie, or even if the end of the world was happening right outside could take you away from this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, hand coming up to cradle your face. “Please” you barely get out.

Eddie gently places his lips on yours and it feels like this weight you’d be carrying around had been lifted from your body. Nothing in your life has felt more right than this kiss.

You’re kissing Eddie Munson. The boy from the hallway that always gave you a kind smile and made you weak in the knees. The boy from your science class who never had a pen. The boy who you’ve wanted since you were 17. You always criticized yourself for never getting over what you thought was just a silly little crush, but it’s always been more than that. Every moment leading up to this has been worth it and you’d do it all over again if it meant you got to kiss him.

You instantly miss his lips on yours when he pulls away and you can barely stand it, so you pull him back in. This kiss is more intense. You melt when his tongue glides into your mouth and his hand moves to hold your waist. You both put all of your feelings and passion into this kiss. It’s pure electricity.

You wish you didn’t need oxygen to breathe. You wish you could live forever in this position, but unfortunately that isn’t the case, so you both slowly break apart but not without him giving you a few pecks before fully pulling back.

His pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed. His hair is a little messy due to you threading your hands through his soft curls. He’s never looked more beautiful.

“So, I know this was only our first time hanging out, but- uh- do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks, nervously and you smile so big that it causes your eyes to wrinkle.

“I’d love to” you simply answer.

“Yeah? You wanna be mine?’’ he smiles as relief washes over him.

“I’ve always been yours”

Nightmare on Elm Street has been long forgotten. Eddie restarted it twice, but each time you both end up in deep conversation and he’s kissed you more times than you can count. Maybe one day you’ll watch it, but today isn’t that day. Not when you’re sitting next to the most kissable person on earth.

The End

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson on #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic

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