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oneforthemunny · 3 months

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have i the right? |yandere!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: ever since you started working at turtle's tapes, you and eddie have grown closer and closer until he finally asks you out. it feels like the pieces of your life are finally falling into place, things are going right for once- but things are not always what they seem.

contains: minors dni 18+. dark fic. dark!eddie. yandere!eddie. dark tones of the fic. stalking, obsession, breaking and entering, mentions of past violence, mentions of past trauma and relationships. masturbation.

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you walked in. Eddie didn’t know what divine intervention had stepped in, decided to shine down on him and bring you into Turtle’s Tapes, a resume in hand, asking for Mel.

You had been so jittery, fingers drumming on the strap of your leather shoulder bag. Red nails, freshly painted, Eddie could tell by the smudges around the edges you hadn’t bothered to clean up. He didn’t point it out, couldn’t even if he wanted to. Tongue too thick, breath caught and suffocating in his throat, wrapped around the words he wasn’t even sure he’d form yet.

He managed to point you to the back office, croak out the words he couldn’t even remember, hoping his cheeks didn’t reveal the flush of heat thrumming through his body when you smiled at him, waving when you walked away.

“You’re working again?”

A giggly voice had Eddie turning, spine straightening, shoulders rolling back when he turned from the stack of records he was sorting.

You had your hair up today, pulled back so he could see your face fully, more features for him to memorize.

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, chin ducking to his chest, a waterfall of curls hiding the pink of his cheeks. “Brenda called out of another shift.” The eye roll he added made you giggle.

“Again? Why do they even keep her around?” You muttered, grabbing a stack of records out of the shipment box, handing the top one- Out of Time- over to Eddie. Your nails were starting to chip now, around the edges, flaked red polish.

“Well, she-she’s not bad. Pretty good on the register.” Eddie grabbed the record, sucking in a breath to calm the excited tremble in his hands.

“Right.” You frowned, lips puckering out the way they did when you were thinking. Eddie noticed it on your first day of training, when he was explaining how to stack the eight tracks, an adorable tick he found himself thinking about at night, staring at his ceiling replaying every word you’d said.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be bitchy.” You shook your head lightly. “I was- I mean, you’re always taking her shifts. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no,” Eddie’s grip tightened on the record, the plastic wrapping crinkling under his touch. “I know you weren’t.”

Stupid, stupid, Eddie cursed himself, watching your face fall. The bell trilled, pulling your attention to greet the customer with a cheery tone. You were still new, still eager to impress and help, not weathered and worn from customer service like Eddie. He was thankful for it, truthfully.

Eddie liked watching you work, liked watching you in general. When he could cut his eyes, stare shamelessly like he used to in freshman year algebra, watching Stacy Simmons from the back corner of the class.

You were better than Stacy Simmons. Prettier. Definitely nicer. Stacy never even looked at Eddie, he wasn’t even sure she knew he existed, even when he sent her the candy-gram on Valentine’s Day.

He wondered what kind of candy you liked, what it would have been like to go to high school with you. If you would have acknowledged him, maybe even been friends with him? Gone to prom, wore a corsage he pinned on with his Judas Priest button.

“Were you a cheerleader in high school?” Eddie asked when you finally migrated back over to him, stocking on the other side of the stacks.

“What?” Your nose crinkled lightly, lips curling in a tiny smile. “A cheerleader?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s heart hammered, chest burning with regret, embarrassment. What a stupid fuckin’ question, Munson, why would you ask that?

“No.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Do I look like I was a cheerleader?” You snorted lightly, brow raising playfully.

Eddie wanted to tell you, you looked like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than a cheerleader, than an angel.

Instead, he thumbed through the stacks, pretending to look for a record, a desperate attempt to play it cool. “Kinda.” He shrugged. “Not in a bad way, you’re just… you get really peppy when you’re helping people.”

“Peppy?” You laughed.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked. “I mean, your voice raises.”

“Wow.” You shook your head, lips rolling, biting back a smirk. “I didn’t even realize I did that. I guess I do.”

Eddie’s stomach turned, a violent, sharp jab when your smile dropped slightly. Munson, don’t ever speak again. What the fuck is wrong with you today? Get it together.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Eddie shook his head, sweaty palms gripping the stack of records. “You’re- The customers really like you.”

“Thanks.” You muttered. There was that silence, filling the space between you. Eddie loathed it, feared it, terrified that it would linger forever, that he might never hear the sound of your voice again because he drove you away.

“Do you close tonight?” You hummed, shuffling down to the next stack. Head still tilted down but eyes lifted to look at Eddie, lines creasing on your forehead that he’d never seen before. A new angle of you for him to preoccupy his thoughts with, play in his fantasies.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat, thumb twisting the ring around his middle finger. His stack was gone, finished, but he wouldn’t dare leave to get another. Not while you were talking, while he was in your attention.

Instead, he pretended to organize the names, shuffling the stacks. “Just us tonight.” His lips curled, dimples deep in a grin.

You smiled back, soft but bright, enough to make his heart flutter and take flight. “Fun.” You shrug sweetly. “That means we can change the music, right? I don’t think I can listen to Amy Grant on a loop again.”

“Yeah, definitely. As soon as Mel leaves we can.” Eddie swore he was in love, hoping you couldn’t see the blush in his cheeks. Every second he spent with you, time built his feelings, made them grow stronger and stronger.

“Play something actually good.” Eddie smiled. He’d been shuffling the same records back and forth, fiddling between his hands.

“I’m sure you will. You have great taste.” The compliment was so natural, so easy coming from you. Still, it made Eddie blister and burn at the praise, so sure his heart might swell and tear through his ribcage, splatter all over the aisles and on your t-shirt.

“The customers really like you too. Always come in and ask for your recommendations.” You added, filing in the last of your record stack.

“Yeah? Thanks, I mean,” Eddie took a breath, swallowing down a stutter, jumbling of words. “Thanks. Just trying to keep the kids cool, y’know? This grunge shit.” Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, I know you’re a fan. Nirvana’s not that bad.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him, an empty box cradled on your hip. “So I guess I can’t convince you to spin Nevermind tonight?” You batted your eyes at him sweetly, lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie’s knees tightened.

As soon as Mel left, Eddie was tearing open the album, shoving Heart in Motion back in its slip with far less care than he should have. Mel would bitch him out, bitch him for opening and playing a non-approved album on the store’s system. Eddie didn’t care, he’d buy the album in secret, give it to you maybe. Slip it in your locker with a note.

If your smile was anything like what you gave him when the opening chords to Smells Like Teen Spirit played through the speakers, he’d buy you a million of those fucking albums.

The hours were slow for a Thursday, especially with the new releases. Not that Eddie minded, he’d never complain about a lack of asshole highschool kids, demanding for cassettes and tapes.

“I think it’s because of the rain.” You tilted your head back, looking out the front window, painted and splattered with rain drops.

Eddie was convinced you could read his mind, sure you might be his soul mate, made just for him. “Yeah, I think so.” He nodded, wiping off the counter with a sudsy rag.

You sighed, heavy, pushing past your lips, puckering them in a perfect pout. Eddie’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, the soapy warm water seeping through his fingers.

“I was hoping it would hold over until I got off.” You admitted, shoulder’s falling, dragging the broom lazily around your dust piles. “I forgot an umbrella or a rain jacket.”

Eddie paused, a second longer than he should have, your attention moved to him. “You- Sorry, you walked?” Eddie shook his head lightly, curls bobbing, brushing against his cheeks.

“Yeah,” You muttered, looking down at the broom, pushing the piles of dirt around. “My car’s in the shop. They said it would be ready a week ago.”

Eddie’s fingers curled around the rag, water piling and pooling in the spot in front of him. He’d find where your car was, make them fix it, fix it himself if he had to.

Still, your rainy predicament gave him an opportunity he’d been looking for. Plotting and mulling over for the past twelve days.

“I can give you a ride.” Eddie shrugged, dragging the rag, stained with dirt from the years of use, over the glass, prismatic streaks on the glass from the cleaner.

“No,” You shook your head politely, sweeping the dirt pile into the dustpan. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s fine, honestly, I live really close-”

“-C’mon.” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s pouring and it’s dark. Shouldn’t walk alone at night, anyways. Lots of weirdos out.”

Your own heart skipped at his tone, thrilling and thrumming with excitement. “I mean, if it’s not a problem.” You hesitated. “I can give you some gas money-”

“-No, don’t.” Eddie said firmly, plopping the rag back in the bucket of water. “It’s not a problem, seriously. I don’t mind.”

Your lips curled, a shy smile. “Thank you.” You nodded. “I really appreciate it, Eddie.”

“It’s not a problem.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, you’re not wearing the right shoes.” He nodded towards your white Keds, cloth on top, stained with dirt from your walk here. “Can’t let them get ruined.”

“They’re already ruined. Really dirty, I need to clean them.” You smirked, toes wiggling in your sneakers. “But thank you.”

“Hey, it’s no problem.” Eddie shrugged, trailing you when you crossed the store, bending over to brush up another pile of dirt. Your shirt rode up, jeans lowering just enough for Eddie’s breath to still entirely. The strings of your panties, high cut, a lavender shade peeking over the band of your denim, that had Eddie’s head spinning.

His face flushed, blood rushing straight to his crotch, shamelessly. A still soapy hand adjusted himself, turning so you wouldn’t see. Wouldn’t see how easily he was flustered, attracted to you. The last thing he needed to do was scare you off, fuck this all up again.

Like with Chrissy.

Eddie winced, teeth clenching at his own thoughts. No, he wouldn’t think about her. You weren’t anything like her. How dare he insult you like that, comparing you so lowly to her.

His eyes cut back to you, hips swaying while you swept to the beat of Lithium, head bobbing to the clash of the drums.

No, he knew better this time. He’d be more careful. He wouldn’t mess this up.

Eddie gave you his keys to the store, let you lock up while he took the trash, sprinting to his van. He shoved the cigarette buds in the plastic trash bag, smushing down the brown, grease soaked fast-food paper bags he’d carelessly tossed in his passenger side. He would’ve had his car detailed if he would have known he’d be giving you a ride.

“Ed?” Your voice carried around the corner.

“Back here!” Eddie called, jamming his keys into the van’s ignition, the engine sputtering to life before evening out into a steady roar. One leg out, Eddie stopped, sucking in a breath. He swiped the yellow scrunchie off his gear shift, shoving it in his pocket just as you turned the corner.

Eddie smiled, walking to the dumpster, flinging the bag in. “Sorry, just wanted to get the car started. It takes a while for it to warm up.”

He held the door open for you, bowing dramatically when you slipped in. You giggled at his antics, and his heart soared, fluttered with pride. Eddie slipped into the driver’s side, eyes scanning the console and back of the van nonchalantly when he backed out, making sure he hadn’t left anything lying about.

He was more careful after what happened before. More aware, double checking his steps, but the scrunchie had him on edge. It was close, too close for his comfort.

“Seriously, thank you.” You looked over at Eddie, the glow of the street lights cast a nearly angelic, golden luster over your features. “Saved me from getting sick.” You nodded towards the window, Eddie’s wipers creaking with every swipe over the glass.

“Can’t have that now.” Eddie smirked, looking over at you, throwing his blinker on. “Have to take your shifts too. Then I’ll really be overworked.”

You laughed, looking out the window, smile falling as Eddie cruised down the familiar street.

“But seriously, if you ever need me to take a shift for you, I don’t care to.” Eddie shrugged, eyes cutting over to yours. He didn’t see the way you’d stilled, hands wringing in your lap, spine rigid. “I was just kidding.”

You stayed silent, heart hammering, inching further and further up your throat. Eddie frowned, looking over at you. “You alright?”

Your wide eyed gaze met his, scared, startled. He saw flashes of Chrissy before him, merging into his vision. “What?” Eddie cringed. He didn’t mean to sound so fierce. “Are you alright?”

“How do you know where I live?” You asked, blinking at Eddie, eyes rounded. Your eyes cut to the road ahead, Eddie inching closer to your apartment complex.

His heart stopped, a pause that lingered a little bit longer than he meant it to. “You told me.” He blurted, a white knuckled grip on the wheel, turning back towards the road. “When you started, you told me you lived at Magnolia Place. My friend Jeff lives over there, remember?”

You had mentioned it, not to him, to Lindy. Eddie had overheard it, when he was lingering around, watching you from behind cassette stacks. You frowned, but your grip loosened, relaxing. Eddie held his breath, switching his hand casually, freeing his right hand- just in case.

“Oh,” You chirped, flushing with embarrassment, chin tucking towards your chest. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot about that.” You shook your head.

“It’s alright.” Eddie shrugged casually, his fingers loosening around the wheel.

“No, that was weird of me.” You shook your head, hands rubbing down your face. “I watch too much Dateline.” You laugh softly. “It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?”

Eddie smirked. “Do I give off those creeper vibes?” His eyes cut to yours, longer than they should have, reading your reaction. “Bundy vibes or something?”

“No,” Your laugh made him relax, exhaling slowly. “I’m just- I don’t know. I need medicated. I get, like, super worried about things sometimes.” You looked down at your nails, picking at the chipping polish.

“No, that’s a good thing. Better to be careful.” Eddie nodded, turning into the apartment complex. “Ok, now I do need you to tell me which one. Left or right?”

“I’m in the very back right.” You pointed through the rainy window, drizzle still steady.

Eddie turned the wheel with his palm, slowing the van to a cruise through the parking lot. “Where does your friend live?”

“Hm?” Eddie hummed, brow furrowed, looking over at you.

“Your friend?” You pressed lightly. “You said he lives over here? Where, if you don’t mind me asking? I just… it would be nice to know someone just in case.”

Eddie craned his head, heart thrumming in his chest rapidly. “He lives right there.” Eddie pointed, finger pressed to the window. “On the left side.”

You nodded slowly, leaning forward, close enough that Eddie could smell your perfume. His head spinning, stilling entirely, scared to move and have you inch away.

“But if you ever need anything,” Eddie followed your muttering of directions. “You can just call me. I don’t live too far.”

“That’s sweet,” You smiled softly, turning so you were inches away from Eddie’s face. He hoped you couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “I don’t want to bother you, though.”

“You’re not.” Eddie shook his head. “I promise. I’ll let you know if you bother me.”

“Yeah?” You laughed, Eddie could feel your breath on his curls.

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded, sliding into a parking space easily. “You’ll know.”

You smiled, and for a moment, Eddie contemplated leaning forward, grabbing your face with his hands and kissing you. You moved before he could, unfastening your seat belt instead. Eddie tried to hide his huff of disappointment.

Too slow, Munson, you’re always too fucking slow.

“Well, thank you, again.” You reached for your purse, slipping your arm through the leather strap. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time.” Eddie’s fingers drummed on his denim clad thigh, desperately racking his brain for anything, anything to get you to stay. Even just for a second longer.

“Enjoy your day off.” You smiled, the streetlights above you catching in your eyes. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks.” Eddie gave a tight lipped smile, heart jumping when your fingers cradled around the door handle. “Wait-” Eddie’s voice was sharper than he meant, your head whipping around towards him.

“Sorry,” Eddie blushed. “I just- You don’t close tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, foot shaking by the brakes, the rumble of the engine vibrating the soles of his shoes.

“No, I’m an opener. I get off that four.” You smiled proudly.

“Oh, well, I was thinking if, um,” Get it the fuck together, Munson. “If you’re not busy tomorrow after work, I- we could go to The Hideout?”

You blinked. “I mean, I know we talked about it, and you said you’d never been. I’m not playing tomorrow, but I-I know the band that is. We could go and listen to the music, or just go and hang out. It’s really fun, really chill.” Eddie rambled. Chill? Who says chill?

“If you want to.” Eddie blurted before you could reply. “I-I know you probably have plans, or something better to do-”

“-No,” You shook your head, a smile spreading over your features, beaming as bright as the streetlamp about the two of you. “I mean, yes I want to go. No, I’m not busy.” You gave him a small, breathy laugh.

“That sounds like fun.” Eddie was convinced it was a dream, the entire interaction. You in his van, agreeing to go out with him. His luck was finally changing, falling into place.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes were bright. “Yeah, I-I mean it will be. I promise.” His foot still shook. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Yeah, that-that would be nice.” You beamed, heart fluttering with butterflies, tingling with excitement.

“I can get you at seven? We can get there kinda early and get a good seat by the front if you want.” Eddie couldn’t help his smile, couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to.

“Sounds good.” You smiled. There was a pause, and you weren’t sure why, what came over you when you leaned forward, lips pressing in a soft peck to Eddie’s cheek, soft over the crease of his dimples.

Eddie flushed, body burning, flaming with heat, he knew he wasn’t hiding. You grinned, a small giggle, bubbly like the two of you were in junior high, kissing behind the bleachers.

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned, opening the door. Eddie nodded, eyes still wide, lovesick or maybe lovestruck- he couldn’t decide.

“Thank you again!” You squeaked, shutting the door, scampering to your door. You turned, waving at him before pushing the door open, slipping inside.

Eddie sat, in a daze, head foggy, blinded with a rush of emotions. He could feel your lips on his cheek, a light tingling imprinted onto his skin.

He’d nearly ruined it, fucked it all up before it even began. He wouldn’t let that happen, couldn’t be careless like before.

Eddie pulled out of the parking spot, the light from your bedroom catching his eye in the rearview as it flickered on, blinds wide open. For someone who watches so much Dateline, you should know better.

Eddie’s stomach turned, foot pressing into the gas, halting in front of another complex. Eddie turned, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see you. Maybe you hadn’t left it open. His mind swam, flooded with fear. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened.

Just a quick check. Make sure she’s alright, and then leave. It won’t be like last time.

Eddie let the van roll to a stop, cutting the headlights before killing the ignition. A steady stream of rain drummed on the roof of the van, melodic and calming. Eddie reached in his pocket, holding your yellow scrunchie. The thing that had nearly blown his whole plan. He swiped it from your locker four days ago, held it close to his nose that night, hand wrapped around his shaft, eyes fluttering closed, breathing in your scent and imagining what it would be like if you were there instead.

Eddie closed his fist around the silk, tucking it back in his pocket, reaching for his leather jacket, thrown over the back seat. An old Yankees cap, navy and worn in the floor of the van’s trunk. Eddie slipped the cap over his curls, pulling the brim low, zipping his jacket up.

Hands in his pocket, Eddie scanned around him. Nobody out to see him, catch him like last time and stop him. He wouldn’t let them even if they tried. Not this time.

The rain beat off Eddie’s shoulders, repelling off the leather of his jacket, wetting the ends of his curls. A final look over his shoulder, and Eddie was slinking back towards the wet brick of the opposite unit. Shuffled side steps, creeping closer and closer into the dark, angling himself to see your window.

He stilled, pressed fully to the brick, when your figure fluttered out of the corner of the window. Eddie watched the steam roll, following you out of the bathroom in a cloud, a towel wrapped around you, another in your hair. Toothbrush lazily scrubbing inside your mouth, flicking on the TV in your room.

She’s safe, now leave. Leave. Eddie’s mind screamed, but his feet were cemented in place. Hidden in the dark shadows, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, the light luring him though he stayed still.

You disappeared, Eddie watched you in the large mirror above your vanity.

Now, go now. Before she sees you. She’s going to see you.

The pounding in Eddie’s ears roared over the falling rain, deafening. Still, he stayed. Frozen in fear, maybe instinct.

When you returned, dropping your towel, kicking it to the corner of the room, Eddie was glad he stayed. Eyes wide, willing himself not to blink. He didn’t want to miss a second, not a single one. Your bare figure, better than his own imagination could curate. Soft edges and curves that Eddie couldn’t wait to feel. How jealous he was of your hands, smoothing the Avon body lotion over your shins, up your thighs.

What he would do to be the one doing that instead, his mind fading, slipping into his imagination. Inside your bedroom, instead of out, pressing soft kisses to your freshly lotioned shoulders, nose trailing along your soft skin. He wondered how you’d feel in his arms, letting yourself relax in his touch.

Eddie’s fantasies were halted when you moved to the vanity, snapping back to his cruel reality, a jolt of icy cold fear dumped into his veins. He could see himself in your mirror, the very corner. You bent down, picking up your comb and he took his chance, stepping back, hidden from your gaze, only a sliver of you to be seen, when you’d tilt your head a certain way to blow dry your hair.

Eddie stood, cold puffs of air clouding around his nose, clutching the switchblade in his jacket pocket every time he heard the smallest rustle. Ready to attack, to do anything he could to keep from being caught. He couldn’t ruin this, lose you before he ever truly got you. He was so close, so close.

Your light didn’t turn off, the same warm glow spilled out from your window, rain beating against the glass. Eddie’s feet ached, heart rate stroke level high. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie muttered, carefully stepping back towards the window.

You were no longer at the vanity, instead on your stomach, painting your nails at the end of the bed. Not red, from what Eddie could see- black. His lips curled. He liked to think you were doing this for him, for tomorrow, to match his dark and moody attire.

Eddie army crawled under your window, holding his breath when he passed under your window sill. He could hear the muffled sound of the TV- Dateline. You really should know better. Eddie would make sure to tell you that when he finally got inside, make sure to put in blinds and curtains for you.

His jaw flexed at the thought of someone trying to hurt you, someone else watching you. Watching you to harm you, not keep you safe like Eddie. The thought nearly had him staying in his van, parking closer and keeping watch through the night. He decided against it, the risk of nodding off and you seeing him there stronger than his want to stay.

Instead, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot, watching your window in the rearview mirror of his van as he drove away.

“Morning.” You sang, a skip in your step that you couldn’t hide, punching your card with glee, putting it in the assigned pocket.

“Good mornin’ to you, Sunshine.” Brenda grinned, brows raised at your cheery demeanor, running the price gun over the new cassettes. “What’s got you so happy on a Friday morning?” She snorted lightly.

“Mm, nothing.” You hummed, twisting the metal lock around. You were getting better at it, thanks to Eddie. He’d helped you the first few times. Tricky things, he’d told you with a half smile.

“Nothing?” Brenda sang, a playful mocking tone that had you blistering in heat. “You’re just that excited to stock tapes all day? That’s it?”

“Yeah.” You snorted lightly, pulling the lock open, wrangling it out of the metal hold of your locker. “No, I…” You spun the lock in your hand. “I’m going on a date tonight.”

“Oh?” Brenda’s brows raised.

You nodded. “Yeah. With, uh, with Eddie, actually.” Your heart fluttering in your chest, bubbly and excited.

“Oh, really?” Brenda laughed, putting her hands on her hip, pricing gun still in head. “Well, that makes more sense then.”

You frowned. “What?”

Brenda shook her head, kicking the box lightly with her foot. “That boy,” She snorted lightly. “He called my phone night before last, all crazy, I thought he’s been hurt or somethin’. Askin’ me to switch shifts with him last night.”

You paused, stilling. “H-He did?” You squeaked, hand closing around the lock tightly.

“Yeah,” Brenda smiled. “I mean, I was a little confused why he’d want to work a closing over an open, ‘specially with all the shifts he’s been picking up. But I thought, hey, none of my business. Maybe he needs the money.” She held her hands up playfully. “This makes me feel better, though.”

You twisted the lock nervously in your hands. “It does?”

“Yeah.” Brenda looked at you. “He just likes you. Wanted to take you out. Probably scared I’d tell you or somethin’, you know how he is.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “He gets a little paranoid about things. Dramatic, that one.”

Your stomach turned, sharp and twisting. “But-But Eddie, he wouldn’t, like, he’s a good guy?” You asked. “I mean, he seems like a good guy, but you-you know him better than I do.”

“I’ve known Ed since he was a little boy.” Brenda waved you off, her flippant tone made you feel better somehow. “I used to date his uncle, actually. Wayne started taking care of Eddie when we were together. He was wild, I’ll tell ya. But the sweetest kid. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Right.” You nodded, swallowing down your nerves. “Right, I- I’m just not from here, ya know? I get kinda…” You waved your hands, slinging your purse in your locker. “I also get paranoid.”

“A good match then.” Brenda grinned. “You’ll have fun with him. If he doesn’t treat you right, you let me know. I’ll tell his uncle and he’ll handle him, alright?” Her eyes shone in a playful way, comforting. Soothing your nerves with a warm smile.

You were anxious, and why wouldn’t you be? You hadn’t been out on a date since you moved to Hawkins.

Since you left your hometown.

Since you left him.

You swallowed, shaking it from your mind. You wouldn’t let him ruin this for you, wouldn’t let your mind consume itself. Eddie’s locker was just above yours, a plethora of stickers- Metallica, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, and so many more all collaged together. Some peeling, overlapping and covering the others. Right in the middle, a bright, smiley face sticker. You’d given it to him last week, the grocer at Melvald’s snuck one in your bag.

“I brought it for your sticker collection.” You had grinned at Eddie, waving the yellow sticker around playfully. You hadn’t expected him to put it right in the middle of his collaged locker.

It was sweet. A simple, sweet, silly gesture that had you giggly and blushy for the rest of your shift.

You pinned your badge to the inside of your shirt, letting the metal back snap into your soft cotton, pushing out the back doors and towards the register, letting your mind drift into daydreams about tonight. About Eddie, while you straightened the tapes on the front table.

A ringed hand gripping the plastic cup, warm from the coffee inside, Eddie sipped slowly, eyes trained on the corner. He waited, parked and hidden behind the row of bushes in front of McDonald’s, hoping it would camouflage his van enough.

His breath hitched, strangling the liquid in his throat when a figure rounded the corner. Your hair was down today, freshly styled, and you had gone without your white Keds. Eddie’s heart bubbled, fluttered to life with a soaring warmth. Your nails were painted black, he could see it as you got closer on the sidewalk, shrinking in his seat, peering just over the steering wheel to track you until you got to the store.

When you slipped into the door, safely inside Turtle’s, Eddie geared into reverse. Van rolling steady back towards Magnolia Place.

“It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?”

Your voice rang in his head, a rhythmic melody that lured him into a trance, tunnel visioned all the way back to your apartment doorstep. The flathead screwdriver and allen wrench heavy in his pocket, clammy palms wrapped around them.

As much as he hated his father, cursed and blamed him for the way he was, every hardship he’d endured, he did have to thank him for making him resilient. Al had passed on more than just his wild curls to Eddie. He’d given him his resourcefulness, taught him. Eddie thanked Al, wherever he was, when the door clicked open.

Your apartment smells exactly like how he thought, looked exactly how he imagined. A hodgepodge of second hand furniture, throw pillows and blankets neatly folded and placed on the patterned couch. Your shoes kicked in a pile by the door, your white Keds amongst them.

Eddie crouched down, cradling the shoe in his hand. The small speck of dirt splattered on the sides from your walk to work yesterday, an imprint of your foot molded into the sole.

Eddie let himself wander around the small space- your space. He hoped he’d be back tonight, invited in this time, but in case he didn’t, he just needed a look. To see the full thing, to see how you lived, feel closer to you any way he can. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know everything about you, every single thing.

Your perfume taunted him from the vanity, clouded his mind the very same way it did when he smelled it on you, catching whiffs when you’d walk past. Eddie drenched the edge of his band tee, saturated it in your perfume. For later, when his mind would wander back to you, when he’d miss you, when he’d long to smell you.

Stacks of photos lined the vanity, a man and woman donning similar features to your own. Even when you were younger, you always had the same smile, bright and warm. Your towel still kicked in the corner of the room from the night before, bed sheets crumpled from sleep. Eddie’s hand slid across the crinkled cotton, he hoped they’d still be warm.

Next to your sink, a bottle of purple acetone, red soaked cotton pads in the trash. A small tray of nail polishes next to that, pushed into the corner, every color imaginable- including the red. The same red you wore when Eddie met you. That you kept painting over for the following days until you finally gave up, let it chip away.

His mind screamed, roared at him not to. That you would know.

I’ll give it back. I’ll give it back when she invites me over. She’ll never know.

Eddie plucked the Revlon bottle out of the group, pushing the others back into place, pocketing it.

Ok, that’s enough. Enough. You’re gonna get caught. It’s going to be Chrissy- No, no, don’t fucking even compare her to that sick-

Eddie’s mind spiraled, pulling deeper and deeper into himself, a white knuckled grip on the counter, eyes crossing in a hazy daze, foggy and distorted. A familiar buzz ringing through his ears, a roar of static, heart hammering so fast he was sure it wasn’t beating at all. Flashes of memories he’d tried to forget, beat his head against a wall and knock them out, unforgiving and rapid.

A sliver of purple peeking out of your wickered hamper halted those hauntings just as quickly as they’d begun. Carelessly thrown on top, Eddie’s vision honing in through the mirror. The same lavender thong that had teased him the night before, consumed his thoughts later that night, hand pumping his cock, free hand holding your scrunchie to his nose, eyes screwed shut picturing- wishing it was you instead.

I’ll bring it back. With the nail polish, she’ll never know.

Eddie was nearly in a trance like state, swiping the panties off the top of the towels, shoving them in his pocket. He couldn’t- not here. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to contain himself.

Instead, Eddie waited until he was back home, in the sanctuary of his trailer. Pulling the old, metal lunchbox off the top shelf of his closet, he sunk into the mattress. A treasure chest, filled with all his favorite things. All his memories of you.

The scrunchie, a note you’d written him about an order signed with a heart before your name, your application he’d swiped off Mel’s desk after you got the job. It was small, smaller than Eddie would have liked but it was safer this way. The nail polish he tucked away, but the panties he kept out.

Reaching for the Jergens by his bed, Eddie freed his length from his boxers, settling back against the headboard. Tail of his shirt tucked by his chin, the overwhelming scent of your perfume wafting up to him, dizzying his senses. Eddie sighed, free hand tugging at his shaft, relaxing into the pillows.

He could see you, a fantasy that challenged his perception of reality, riding him soft and slow. Would you like it like that? Harder? Rougher? Sweeter? Him on top? Eddie’s mind flurried with worry, what if’s, pleasure simmering out slowly.

Eddie blinked, a heavy lidded gaze landing on the panties in his hand. You flooded back to his mind, picturing you in your little panties, shy and bare before him. He swallowed down a groan, pushing the crotch of your panties to his nose. A pungent, spicy scent, swarming with something so intoxicating. Eddie whimpered, pushing the lavender panties further under his nose, suffocating himself nearly, but he didn’t mind.

He hoped to have you in a different way, to experience you authentically later tonight. Even just to kiss you again, feel you again, his body ached for it. But for now, Eddie would suffice having you this way, his own little secret, a dark and twisted fantasy just for him.

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nyxoz · 2 years

Text

When you and Eddie are 9, he falls off the monkey bars at school and breaks his arm. You sit with him and hold his good hand while the teachers call an ambulance. He looks up at you with big brown tearful eyes and a sniffle and says “Don’t leave me.” You hold his hand tighter and shake your head, “I won’t.” You say.

When Eddie gets his cast on you’re the first person to sign it. You write your name with a little heart next to it in red marker. “Do you think I can get Stacey Carmichael to sign it?” Eddie asks. You frown a little and your tummy feels weird at the thought. Stacey is in the grade above you and she’s the coolest girl in school. “Dunno” you shrug before Mr. Munson calls from the living room to tell you your parents are here to take you home.

When Eddie is 11 he starts a band called Corroded Coffin. You think it’s a funny name but Eddie tells you that it’s really metal. You tell the boys they should enter the middle school talent show and they do. They come 4th but Eddie is so happy that he picks you up and spins you around even though you’re taller than him. “You didn’t even win!” You laugh as he spins you, “I don’t care, that was so fun!”

When you and Eddie are 12, you fall off your bike riding down the big hill near the trailer park. You scrap your knees and chin and you’re crying all messily. “Eddie! It hurts!” You sob as Eddie holds your face in his little hands to look at your chin. “I know. Let me go get Uncle Wayne!” And then Eddie runs as fast as you’ve ever seen back to the trailer to get Mr. Munson who comes speeding down with Eddie and a first aid kit in hand. “Okay, little miss, what have you done to yourself, hmm?” Eddie holds your hand while Mr. Munson patches you up.

When you’re 13, John Baker kisses you at the snowball dance while you’re slow dancing to a song you don’t know. It was okay but your mom’s lipstick you stole gets on his lips and he has to go to the bathroom to clean it off. “I kissed John!” You tell Eddie who is sitting on the bleachers looking bored. Eddie screws up his face “Yuck.” You frown, “I didn’t say it was yuck when you kissed Jessica Thompson!” You argue. “Did you use tongue?” Eddie asks. This time you screw up your face. “Gross! No!” Eddie shrugs, “Then it wasn’t a real kiss.” You don’t think that’s true.

When you and Eddie become freshman’s he joins a club called Hellfire and it’s all he talks about. “Our DM is so cool! He listens to Judas Priest just like me!” “The campaign is so fun!” “Look at the shirt that they gave us! I’m never taking it off.” He can’t hang out at lunch anymore because he sits with the Hellfire club and that makes you sad but you don’t tell him that. You’re just happy he’s happy.

When you reach sophomore year, you and Eddie agree that Friday nights are your dedicated nights to hang out. Eddie came to you at the end of freshman year saying he missed you and you were so happy you almost cried. You barely saw him anymore so now that you have a night just for you, you couldn’t be happier.

When Eddie turns 16 you surprise him with an audition at the hideout for Corroded Coffin to play every Tuesday night. It might just be a few drunks that heckle at them every gig, but Eddie literally tackles you onto his bed and almost squishes you in thanks. He’s bigger than you now.

When you and Eddie are 17, you’ve become somewhat of the band manager. You help them unpack and pack every night and Eddie usually drops you home after. The rest of the band have left and it’s just you and Eddie hauling the last of the equipment in the back when you almost fall out the back of the van. Eddie is underneath you in an instant, catching you bridal style. “You saved me.” You laugh as you hop down to your feet. Eddie doesn’t laugh, he just looks down at you “‘Course I did. I always will.” He says. It makes your stomach flutter and before you know it you’re leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. You pull away and stare up at him nervously watching as Eddie’s face breaks into a smile. “Y’know, it’s not a real kiss unless there’s tongue.” He says. You slap at his shoulder.

When you’re 17 and 6 months, you’re at Eddie’s trailer and Mr. Munson isn’t home. You’re in Eddie’s bed and you’re both in your underwear and under the covers. Eddie is kissing all over your face, “You sure you wanna? We don’t have to.” He asks for the millionth time. “Yeah, I’m sure.” You reassure him.

When you turn 18, Eddie gives you a little box. You open it and find his guitar pick necklace curled up in the soft velvet. “Eddie,” you gasp, “I can’t accept this. This is the most important thing to you.” Eddie pushes a piece of hair behind you ear and leans in close, “You’re the most important thing to me.”

When you and Eddie are 20, Eddie finally graduates high school. He runs up to you and Mr. Munson (‘Call me Uncle Wayne’ he told you a million times before) and picks you up and spins you around in his cap and gown. “You did it!” You cheer, giving him a loving kiss. He holds your face in his hands “I fucking did it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #joseph quinn #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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aphrogeneias · 7 months

Text

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 — overstimulation

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: switch!eddie. handcuffs are used with no safeword, but consent is discussed and given explicitely.

One of the first things you'd asked Eddie when you took in his room for the first time was if he had ever used those handcuffs on someone.

It was mostly a joke, really. You liked to watch him fluster, the ever confident boy — at least, on the outside, but you'd grown to know better — putty in your gaze. Saying things that would make Eddie blush and stutter was almost like a game to you, seeing how far you could push his limits.

That's until he started talking back.

Subtle, clever comebacks. Sometimes he'd just chuckle and smirk at you, and you would lose all the composure you were carefully building around him. Tiptoeing between friendship and something more, fantasizing about friends didn't do. Pushing the boundaries until they were only blurred lines and lingering stares.

Eddie must have not forgotten that question. One night, when you'd just finished smoking the second joint of the evening and contemplative silence fell over his room, Judas Priest's Defenders of the Faith spinning in the background, he blurted out, "I'd let you use them on me."

He kept looking forward, straight to where the infamous handcuffs hung on his wall. There was a slight tinge of pink in his cheeks, but you didn't know if it was from the high or if he'd just admitted something he wasn't quite ready to.

You turned to him, "Been thinking about it, huh?"

"What if I have?"

You stared at each other for what seemed to be a long moment. All it took was a nod from you, not trusting your words, and Eddie was handing the handcuffs to you, as one would submit something precious to another.

You got lost in the feeling of it. Watching Eddie undress and lay himself in the middle of the bed, pliant as you locked the cuffs around his wrists.

When they were secured in place, it started to really settle in. You were going to do this. "If you… if you want them off, you tell me, okay?"

"I will, sweetheart." His eyes seemed even bigger from above, deep pools of warm brown pouring into your own. You were used to Eddie's intensity, but this was different.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He didn't want them off. Not when you started kissing him, slowly at first, and then growing hungrier by the minute. You could tell Eddie struggled, wanting to touch you, but when you lowered your kisses down his neck, and further down, down, down, he was compliant in your hands.

You couldn't help but feed on it. Running your nails down his pale torso, watching his skin redden and his back arch. Finally taking him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around the wet, hot head of his cock, sucking it before taking more of him in your mouth, humming at the raw taste of him. You switch between stroking him and licking from his base to the head, taking him deep within your throat, pressing into the delicious bush he hid beneath his briefs, and pulling back all over again.

Eddie whined and cursed, breathless. "Fuck, fuck, fuck baby… That fucking mouth, it's gonna kill me."

Speeding up your movements, you got spurred on by the slick sounds of your mouth slurping on his length, and his moans that grew louder and louder as he got closer to the edge. You dragged it on as much as you could, relishing on the taste of him, the weight of his cock on your tongue.

"Please, please, sweetheart." You heard him whisper, "Let me cum, please. Wanna cum in your mouth. That sinful little fucking mouth is gonna make me cum."

It was your turn to smirk. You took him in your hand, jerking him off in earnest, while you took your mouth to his head, licking and sucking the sensitive flesh, feeling him twitch under you. It didn't take long until he was cumming, with a long groan that you were sure the entire trailer park was privy to. Not that you cared, you were too caught up on the power trip that was having the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen melt beneath you.

When he was, you didn't stop. Working him up again with your hand, lavishing him with praise. You didn't stop until you saw tears in his eyes, incoherent sounds coming from his bitten lips, hips trying to arch away from your mouth.

You didn't stop until you were seated on him, taking his sensitive cock inside of you, reliving a bit of the tension that had been growing inside of you, wet without even being touched. Riding him until he begged you to take his handcuffs off.

You did, but you didn't stop then, not even when he grabbed your waist and started fucking up into you. Not even when he flipped you over, and you were the one in his mercy.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #kinktober 2023

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devourable · 7 months

Note

Do you have smut hcs for the delinquents with an oral fixation darling? Outside of sex, they're playfully nipping the boys or giving plenty of kisses! Darling could be getting dicked down within an inch of their life but they'll whine if they aren't sucking dick/biting someone's shoulder/or having one of the boys' fingers in their mouth. it's degen hours for me ajsdhsjsdkjfblsjfk

this post is dedicated to mazzy. she literally ghostwrote this anon AKDJSKTB

i was gonna post this yesterday but i fucking blacked out so. hope yall like smut in the morning

nsfw, minors / ageless dni

· the boys are ALL over this. it drives them crazy when you’re affectionate with them, to the point they start arguing about who gets your attention next. they're melting every time you pepper them with kisses, playfully biting you back whenever you bite them, always so eager to return your energy when given the opportunity to.

· naturally, this attitude follows them to the bedroom, too. it wouldn't be too uncommon for some of them to bicker about who gets to fuck your mouth first next to spark up, especially since some of them would definitely start to hog you upon given the chance. it’s a guarantee that you won’t be leaving an encounter without the taste of one of them lingering on your tongue.

· aaron and judas are the most gentle, having their fun rubbing their cock against your mouth just to make you whine for them. judas would take his time getting himself off with just your lips no matter how much you protest or try to suck him off, gently scolding you every time you make the attempt to. aaron on the other hand would lose his patience after some time. all that begging, so desperate for him, he'd have no choice but to shut you up. who is he to deny you of what you both want?

· mattias and dom, meanwhile, are both practically the opposite of their friends. any time either man is involved, you'd definitely find yourself gagging on one of them before all of your clothes are off. they just can’t wait to be inside you any longer than what’s necessary.

· dominic isn't as classless as mattie — he's taking his time with you, asking you if you like how he tastes, looking real deep into your eyes throughout the whole act. he really loves to see the look on your face when he's cumming down your throat. but mattias can't help himself from using your mouth like a fleshlight, no matter how hard he tries. the sounds you make when you're gagging on him, the feeling of you desperately sucking his cock, the way you look at him when you know he's about to cum? he’s addicted to it. he likes it more than he likes actually fucking you, especially knowing how much you enjoy it too.

· you'll never have to worry about going unsatisfied with these four around. they're obsessed with and take advantage of your fixation as much as you'll let them — and you'll let them as much as they want, won't you? they're only trying to give you what you want, after all!

#this isnt even the most degen thing ive written and im still embarrassed #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x oc #yandere boy #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere boys #male poly yanderes #yandere smut headcanons #yandere smut #yandere nsft #yandere x reader smut #xxi ;; the world — asks #🚬 mattias c. - dominic g. - judas j. - aaron d. ;; the delinquents

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devouringdevoutly · 19 days

Text

The Hound of Heaven

Summary: Whoever said that you can't fuck God clearly hasn't met Bada yet.

Note: There is no actual god in this fic, it's just straight up a world ran by the Devil. This is also biblically inaccurate as well so please don't stone me to death. Again, this is a work of fiction and does not reflect real life situations and relationships. Originally posted on ao3. CW: Smut, Church Sex, Confessional Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Cunnilingus, Demon Sex, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Religious Guilt, Catholic Guilt, Catholicism, Cheating, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Lemon. Pairing: Bada/Reader Language: English Words: 1,897

Whoever said that you can't fuck God clearly hasn't met Bada yet.

That was the first coherent thought that had formed in my brain as her long fingers slid in and out of me, my warm and wet cavern welcoming her with so much exuberance you'd think I won the lottery jackpot. It sure did feel like that as I was cornered by her towering height and the wooden walls that the booth was made out of, all the while her snake-like tongue making sure she'd had enough of mine. I should feel disgusted by the way our mouths met. The way our tongues glided so ferociously that it made an obscene amount of wet noises that were clearly bouncing off the walls off the confessional booth. The way that my sap trickled down along my legs as Bada mercilessly continued on fingering me. The booth that was once used to repent one's sins was now used to make one after the other.

I should probably feel burdened by the weight of the situation I was in but who cares? My mind and body was stuck in a limbo named Bada.

Her hands then roamed to my now bare breasts as she had managed to rip off my brassiere and the white sundress that I wore earlier, was now practically holding onto its dear life as it was solely held by Bada sandwiching me between her and the wall. She then squeezed and fondled my left bosom, my nipples were already hardening by the cold air hitting it. I let out an elicit whine that even I didn't know I could make and my back arched against the wall like a frightened cat.

Bada's mouth had now reached my right nipple, her tongue flickered back and forth as I moaned like a bitch in heat and I could feel her physically smirk through it. Both of her hands were more than preoccupied, her left hand was groping my left tit and her thumb was playing with my bud, all the while her right hand was still pumping deep inside of me; making sure that she curls her fingers every once in a while but purposely never hitting the spot so as to deny me of reaching my high anytime soon.

She finally pulled back from tantalizing my sore nipples and she eventually stopped pumping my equally sorely soaked cunt. I whined at the loss of contact as Bada's tall figure leaned onto me.

"I wonder if your wimpy god-fearing boyfriend knows how much of a whore his girlfriend truly is…" She says with a shit eating grin, I swallowed the lump in my throat as I didn't feel any sort of guilt for betraying him… I knew that even Judas did feel a tremendous amount of guilt as he had sold the blood of Christ for a mere thirty silver coins. I knew that the moment I had planted my lips against Bada's, that the Devil had penetrated into every part of my being as he did so with Judas Iscariot.

Nevertheless Jesus had already forgiven him before he even committed his sin, perhaps that idiotically pious of a Christian man will forgive me too if there is anything to be forgiven in the first place. If that is the case then I'll gladly break bread and be consumed by her as his disciples did in the last supper, every intrusion that she had made inside my walls was a carving of our covenant.

I already had my bite of the forbidden fruit and there was no turning back to the Garden of Eden.

"Stop talking about that twat and just fuck me already will you?" I groaned out as my hole clenched and unclenched around her fingers. I knew that my words were as insolent as our actions were. Father, will you forgive me for this rotten curiosity of mine? or will you banish me as you had with Lilith and Eve?

"Demanding much? I'm sure you already know that you're the one at my mercy here, angel." Her cocky tone had only gotten me wetter and my cunt pulsed as fast as my heartbeat did. Bada's smile turned wider, almost menacingly as she had clearly noticed my reaction to her degrading words. My mind was in a haywire, my vision was turning hazy as I could see the face of God in the Devil's body. Why did God make the devil's advocate painstakingly handsomely gorgeous if he didn't want me to dive into the river Styx?

"You like that hmmm?" Her thumb pressed meanly against my clit. She knew exactly what she was doing, the pet name? Angel of all things after calling me a whore? I let out another whine as my cunt's lips fluttered.

"Fuck… if you only knew how much I wanna fuck you on the altar… Fuck you in front of those foolish devotees singing words of praise to their equally foolish god. Make you cum with my mouth as they sing lamb of god or whatever the fuck they cry out in these futile masses." She crooned out as she rested her head against my neck and continuously drove three of her fingers inside my plump sopping cunt. Her staggering breath tickled my neck with every word that she had sermonized. I knew she would've done it if I just didn't have a reputation to keep, as if fornicating in a confessional booth was a last act of mercy on her part.

I knew that I was reaching my peak with every thrust Bada had propelled and she knew it too. The ascend to my peak was immediately put to a stop as Bada had other plans in mind. She quickly pulled her fingers out of me, leaving me with a pathetic gaping hole. My resolve had been long gone and my knees were absolutely weak, threatening to give up on me at any moment.

In a swift movement I was easily lifted by Bada and was placed on the velvet cushion of the enclosed box's seat like some ragdoll.

She seized hold of my feet and placed a chaste kiss on it before kissing the entirety of my legs, from my sole to my thighs. It was an intimate moment as if she was almost offering a prayer of thanks before she started to devour every bit and piece of me.

She stretched out her hands and deftly parted my legs like the red sea, I could see her devious grin as she had finally a closer and more intimate view of my aching fleshy cunt. I knew that I was embarrassingly wet and that I was absolutely sore but I didn't dare look down as I was afraid to meet her eyes and see what she had done to me.

"Look at me." Bada said in a benign but firm manner, quite the contrast as she had grabbed my face forcefully and for a moment I was confused. Why the sudden tenderness? Bada's firm hand let go of my jaw before she dove into my ocean of wetness, her forked tongue slithered inside of me like a snake. I couldn't hold myself back anymore as I moaned loudly within the confines of the wooden booth, both sides of her tongue were able to move on their own accord and it just gave her a better aim at her insistent prodding. Bada didn't dare to cover up the noises I made anymore as the ongoing mass was clearly about to end, the people in their assigned seats were standing to give praise to the Lord.

Her tongue kept on ambushing both my lips and cavern, my tears of pleasure had now mixed with the sweat that I've accumulated with how steamy the enclosed space had gotten. I could smell the scent of sex and oak mixing together creating a musk. Somehow my senses were heightened once Bada had started eating me out, I was now conscious of the noise from the outside almost taunting me that we weren't safe from being walked in on by a random passerby.

Bada's gaze met mine, as if her foxy calculating eyes pierced through every part of my being. My eyes were hazy from my tears and I could definitely feel myself getting there.

And with one last skillful flick, I pressed her further into my cunt by grabbing onto her hair. I came hard on her tongue, filling her mouth with so much cum that it dropped down to her chin. I lustily moaned as the churchgoers outside had finally reached the chorus of the song, their harmonious high pitched singing had covered up mine. Bada had finally lifted her head and I looked at her just with a stupefied yet content daze.

She finally sat up from her kneeling position before grabbing my face and roughly pressing our lips together. She kept much of my cum inside of her mouth before forcefully transferring it into mine, making me swallow and taste myself whole. My eyes widened before accepting my fate as I swallowed all of it without any defiance.

Bada kept our tongues in a languid movement until she could feel that I was running out of breath. Our mouths have finally parted ways and I could feel some sense of shame brewing inside of me but it was quickly interrupted by the clap of unison from the crowd, indicating that the mass has finally ended. I took multiple breaths before gathering the strength to pick up my discarded underwear and fix my dress up as Bada did the same for herself. I stood by the door, hesitating, leaving my hand and heart too heavy to open to unlock the doorknob and end this affair with the Devil herself.

I took a final deep breath before opening it but Bada suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"Where do you think you're going my sweet cherub?" Her voice had a hint of malice and possessiveness in between lines, she raised an eyebrow and looked at me suspiciously. I looked at her a bit dumbfounded.

"H-home?" My voice trembled as I whispered my answer, I was unsure of myself where I was heading to either. I felt absolutely lost as my mind was now clear of any trace of lust and desperation, the realization dawning on me that I had just sold myself to the Devil for a mere exchange of ineffable pleasure that I was only to experience just once in my life.

Bada grinned mischievously as she pulled me to her chest before she pressed her mouth against my ear.

"You're coming with me." She whispered as her voice had dropped and shifted into something a lot more sinister sounding.

I stood frozen in shock, I could feel my breathing pattern falter with each and every second passing by. I had come face to face with the Devil and willingly danced with her.

I was finally faced with the cold hard truth that I had left the Garden of Eden long ago. I had laid with her under the thorny olive branches of Gethsemane. I had fed the evil with every bit of my purity in its wake. I had now buried every living being in me, I was now bound to her for eternity, unable to suffer the fruit of Eve's mortality.

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dollymaniac · 8 months

Text

Just a Holy Fool

Desc: Leon decides you're the perfect vessel to carry the black god's legacy.

Pairing: Priest! Plagas! Leon x Nun! Plagas! Reader.

Tags: Porn with no plot, Minors DNI, Breeding Kink, Plagas! Leon, Afab/Fem Rader, unprotected PnV, Oral (F recieving), Degradation Kink, Praising (at the end), pet names (Whore, slut, sister, sweet, dear), OOC Leon.

Wordcount: 0.5k

Author's note: Finally got inspo, Not proof read nor beta tested lol. Title from Judas.

Leon had taken you to the chapel, his plagas begging his body to use you and breed you, he didn't hesitate to bend you over the ritual table, lifting up your black shirt and ripping your panties in a swift move off of your body.

"This is your duty dear" he said,looking as your needy body pooled arousal, you nodded, feeling how much your own infected body begged to be pumped full of his cum "serve our god" he mumbled.

He didn't wait long, he needed to taste you, to take you, to fuck his cum into you, he sat you up on the table,pulling your thighs in before diving into your messy cunt.

His tongue lapped around your slit, taking in as much of your slick as he possibly could, making you whine and throw your head back. His tongue teased circles at your clit, before taking it on his mouth and sucking, enjoying the lewd, unholy noises you made for him.

He released your clit with a pop before his tongue slipped inside your hole, plumping in and out, tasting every inch he could. Your hand instinctively grasped his hair, pushing his face further into your pussy and riding his face, nose bumping over your clit.

"Taste so good" he growled against you, vibration running through your core, making you moan loudly. Just as you were about to peak however, he pulled away, smirking as you whined in need.

"Don't worry my sweet, I'll give you something far much better" his laugh echoed into the chapel before he pulled out his fat cock, weeping already. He took your legs, pushing them over his shoulders before bullying his length inside you.

The feeling of your gummy walls clenching around him made him grunt, taking a second before pulling himself out, leaving just the tip inside and ramming back inside you, making you scream his name.

"Careful Sister, wouldn't want anyone coming inside and finding how much of a slut you are, would we?" He smiled at you, his hips thrusting hard, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and making you see stars.

You could feel his plagas squirming inside you, brushing over your sensitive spots. He quickly reached down, thumb pressing against your clit and rubbing fast and harsh circles. He wanted to make you cum with him, Milk his dick to get every ounce of his seed.

"S'close" she cried out, gripping hard on the table, leaving scratch marks. Your own parasite was squirming and having your body still to let him use you like the toy you were meant to be.

"Do it, do it you whore" he panted out, pounding you and making you hear how wet you were for him. Your climax washed over you, making you whine and wrap your arms around his neck, vision blurry and the only thought in your brain being that of extasis.

Leon kept the rhythm, not slowing down, not stopping a second and not showing how close he was until he made a final thrust and buried deep inside you, spilling his milky cum inside you, feeling how the plaga squirmed to give you their eggs as well.

"Good job sister, you'll be carrying the lords child and fulfilling your roll" he said as he grabbed your face, kissing your lips harshly.

Thank's for reading, Dividers by cafekitsune

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grimoireofhayley · 8 months

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Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 0.4k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @junnniiieee07 @elevenpurple @ok-boke @ren-ni @katie-tibo @bruce-yamada

A/n: I am SO SORRY for not updating for awhile, my mental health just wasn’t doing so great and everything just kept getting shittier and shittier by the day, it’s still not great now, but it’s at the point where I’ll manage. On the bright side, here’s a chapter and I met both Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich yesterday, so that’s tubular! Also, I’ve reached almost 300 followers! If I can get to 1k by the end of the year, I’ll announce what I’ve been working on for so long behind the scenes 💜💜💜 THANK YOU

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 10

The pulse of your heart ripped at your chest, pounding furiously against your rib cage, screaming to be let out.

He was a taken man, you couldn’t do this again, but oh how it was tempting.

You turned on your heel, ready to grab the door knob to leave, but Billy was quicker…

“What.. what is it?” Billy whispered, standing in front of you, “Was it too much?” He asked, almost innocently, but you knew better than that.

“Billy…” You mumbled, a cloudiness engulfing your orbs. As much as you wanted this to be a reality, it couldn’t. He was still dating Sidney, regardless of the situation she put him in. He was her heart, while she was his.

You looked away, your hair falling in front of your face, shielding you from any embarrassment as quiet sobs escaped your lips, not daring to finish your sentence.

The guilt of almost sleeping with Billy midst a police station while Sidney was just behind the glass, was bubbling to the surface, almost suffocating you, making it harder to breathe, but on the other hand, it was hot, especially knowing you could be caught at any second whether it was by Sidney or the cops; it was dangerous, but would be worth it.

Billy frowned, stepping closer.

“(Y/n)…” Your name fell from his tongue like velvet, “Look at me.” He added, grabbing your arms, but you refused to, not letting him have even a glance.

“Whatever I had with Sidney…” He took a deep breath, “is most likely over.” He finished, “Look where I ended up because she doesn’t trust me, what does that say about us as a couple?” He chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s destined to end.”

He sucked in his bottom lip, revealing some teeth, as his doe-like brown eyes scanned your hair-covered face, trying to find your own (e/c) ones.

“Baby~” He purred, taunting you now, his grip tightening, you hated how this made you feel, you wanted him to keep calling you that and so much more. You were a slut for him, and he knows it.

You gulped, scared to meet his face.

“Would you look at me?” He snapped, quickly taking his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

You whimpered, but listened, you knew Billy was bi-polar, but didn’t realize how much he was, until now.

“There you are.” He grinned, stroking your hair behind your ear, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He spoke softly, pulling you into an embrace, comforting you.

You shakily wrapped your arms around him as he held your head into his torso, your anxiety still at bay.

“As much as I want you, (Y/n), I can’t have you just yet…” His words were muffled because of your hair, but you still heard everything…

It made goosebumps rise to your skin, what could he possibly mean by that?

<— Previous Next —>

#fanfiction #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy x you x stu #scream franchise #stu macher #billy loomis x female reader #billy x stu #stu macher x female reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface x female reader #ghostface

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unclewaynemunson · 10 months

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There is thunder in our hearts

Eddie used to love thunderstorms. He loved it when he could feel the heavy electric tension in the air, when the skies got that dark shade of gray expanding over the horizon; he loved the anticipation of what was about to come. But most of all, he loved it when the clouds burst: the moment the skies broke open and the pouring rain, accompanied by the rolling thunder far away but swiftly coming closer, would sound like the opening chords to his favorite song. He loved running outside, standing in the dirt with his arms spread out wide, the taste of the water on his tongue and the rain washing away everything that didn't matter. He'd see other people sprinting from their cars to their houses and he would quietly laugh at them because they were missing out on the single most magical thing that nature had to offer.

Eddie used to love thunderstorms. Until that one time when the skies went gray and the thunder started roaring and all he could think about were bats crowding the air above him, long tails wrapping around his neck, claws and teeth tearing into his flesh, tears in Dustin's eyes...

He ran outside like he always did, hoping that the feeling would pass, hoping that the rain against his skin would remind him of exactly how alive he was; but no such thing happened. Wayne had to follow him into the storm and carry him back inside. He wrapped him in a blanket and made him a cup of hot cocoa and it took Eddie twenty minutes until he managed to stop crying and almost two days before he felt like himself again.

Ever since that happened, he stopped going outside during thunderstorms. Instead, he curls into himself now, as far away from the windows as possible. He plays his music at the loudest possible volume to not have to hear the thunder and he closes his eyes to not have to see the lightning. Sometimes, Wayne is there with him. He never asks, never pries; he simply keeps him company and hands him a blanket in case he feels the need to hide himself further away. He does what Wayne does best: letting Eddie know that he is safe by merely existing next to him, a quiet and calming presence who tells him stories in an attempt to distract him, his soft voice barely drowning out the sounds of the storm.

But Wayne isn't always there when a storm hits. He's often at the plant, or Eddie himself is at work, or with his friends. And it's fine. It isn't like that first time anymore, when he collapsed in the middle of a big muddy pool in front of the trailer and could see nothing but red skies or hear Dustin's screams ringing through his ears, the scent of decay filling up his nose until Wayne got to him and pulled him back into the present. It's not that intense anymore; he can blink those memories away and focus on the music or the voices around him instead. Even though it may still speed up his heartbeat and make his breathing uneven, he can keep functioning.

Or that's what he thought. Until he's in the car with Steve and a storm takes them by surprise and there's nowhere to hide; no way to get away from the window, to bury himself underneath a blanket under the pretense that he's cold, to do anything to take his attention away from it all. And maybe it's also because Steve is sitting right next to him: Steve, whose arms carried Eddie out of the Upside Down, the same arms that are now folded in front of his chest in the passenger seat of Eddie's van.

It's just heavy rain, at first; Eddie can handle rain, he's not a complete coward. But then he hears the rumbling thunder in the distance and his fists clench around the steering wheel and he almost forgets how to breathe. He starts pushing random buttons on the broken radio in the hope that it'll magically have repaired itself and start blasting Judas Priest to save him. Nothing happens, though. Of course not. And the rain only gets louder.

'Eddie,' says Steve, letting his name dance off his tongue in the last echoes of the thunder. Only a few months earlier, Eddie would've loved the sound of that, would have wanted to record the melody and play it on repeat forever.

'Hm?'

'Are you okay?'

Before Eddie can even start to answer that question, another deep rumble echoes through the skies while the rain starts beating even harder against the roof and the windows of his van.

'Eddie,' Steve repeats, more urgent this time. 'I need you stop driving. Right now.'

And Eddie immediately obeys.

'What's happening?' Steve asks as soon as they're standing still. His soft brown eyes wander over Eddie's face, attentive and worried.

'It's the goddamn storm, man,' Eddie explains in a choked voice.

Understanding dawns over Steve's features right away.

'Want me to drive you home?' he asks without missing a beat.

But Eddie shakes his head. 'I can't - can't get out. Of the car.' His mind takes him back to that moment when he collapsed in the middle of the trailer park - he can't do that again. Not anywhere, but certainly not here. With Steve.

'Okay, well, there's no way we're gonna keep driving like this,' says Steve. 'Let's wait it out, alright?' He doesn't talk to Eddie any differently, still seems practical as ever. Probably what years of experience with the craziest fucking supernatural shit does to a person, Eddie supposes. It's Steve at his core: act first, think later. Make sure everybody is – or feels – as safe as can be, the rest is secondary.

The thunder has come closer and a forked bolt of lightning flashes through the gray expanse of the sky. Eddie can't help but flinch at it.

Steve unbuckles his seatbelt and promptly starts climbing between the two front seats towards the back of the van. If Eddie was in any better mindset, he would probably have appreciated the view he is given much more.

'C'mon,' Steve says when he's sat on the ground, offering a hand through the two front seats. 'This seems like a good place to hide.'

Eddie has no choice but to take it. He ends up right next to Steve in the small space in front of the backseats, crouched down in a slightly uncomfortable position. Steve reaches further to the back to get the ratty old blanket that lies there and wraps it over both of them.

'Does this feel safer?'

Honestly, Eddie doesn't know. 'A little bit, I guess,' he mumbles, because that sort of feels like what the correct answer should be.

'You wanna talk about it?'

'Not really,' he admits.

'That's fine too,' Steve answers with a slight shrug. 'We can just sit here. Or do you want me to distract you?'

'I dunno.' It sounds quiet, with the way the big raindrops keep clattering onto the van. 'Wayne tells me stories, sometimes.'

''Bout what?'

'The olden days.' Eddie tries to use one of his dramatic voices, get things back to normal again, but the delivery doesn't land all too well. 'Shit he and my dad used to do. How my grandpa would get mad at them.' He pauses for a moment. 'Apparently my grandpa was scared of storms, too. And my dad. It runs in the family; that tends to happen when you're a farmer and a whole year worth of income can be destroyed by one single storm.'

'When I was younger,' Steve starts to tell, 'I was scared as shit of storms, too. I'd always make those huge pillow forts in the living room, put as many layers between me and the storm as I could.'

Eddie can picture it clear as day: a little version of the guy sitting next to him, with chubby cheeks and shorter hair, hauling a whole bunch of cushions and blankets around to make himself feel safe. It helps him take his mind off what's happening on the outside of the van.

'Sometimes my dad would crawl in there with me,' Steve continues. 'And he would wrap his arms all around me – like this – one more layer, y'know.' He shuffles to haul Eddie into his arms. They're warm against Eddie's own skin, and it is indeed comforting, so Eddie doesn't complain.

'Try to relax, okay?' Steve says. 'I'm right here, and I'll stay here with you for as long as you need. I won't let anything happen to you.' He tightens his grip and urges Eddie to let himself fall against Steve's chest. Eddie has no choice but to sway the way Steve wants him to and lands with his head right on top of Steve's heart. The fabric of his dark green polo is soft against Eddie's cheek and the sound of his heartbeat gets added to the symphony of the storm. He tries to focus solely on that heartbeat, complemented by Steve's breathing, Steve's voice – it makes it easier to drown out the sounds of the storm.

'I hate that this had to happen,' Eddie quietly admits. 'It used to be one of my favorite things in the world, standing outside in the pouring rain. Made me feel alive more than anything else.'

'It sucks,' Steve agrees. He raises one hand to put it on Eddie's head, softly stroking over his hair like he's a cat. 'After the first time we fought it,' he continues, 'when we, you know, pieced together what must've happened to Barb... I couldn't swim anymore. I was terrified of my own backyard. Nance helped me get through it, told me I should face my fears head on. She went to the library and got a whole bunch of books about phobias and traumas and kept talking to me about “exposure therapy.” I was skeptical about it at first, but it actually helped.'

Eddie chuckles darkly. 'Wanna know what happened when I tried to face this shit head on?'

'What?'

'I fucking lost it, man. Went out into the storm like I always did, and just – it was like I was back there. I lost my goddamned mind and Uncle Wayne had to pick up the pieces.'

Steve hand keeps stroking over Eddie's hair while he wraps the other one around Eddie's nervously fumbling fingers.

'We can try it together,' he says. 'We don't have to do it right now. Just... whenever you're ready. If you want to.'

Eddie nods. He isn't sure if he'll ever be ready, but at least doing it with Steve seems less daunting than doing it alone.

Another thunderclap, louder than any of the previous ones and accompanied by a bright flash of lightning, makes Eddie jump in Steve's arms.

'Try not to pay attention to it,' Steve says. 'It's gonna be over before you know it.' And then he starts humming. He even starts rocking Eddie in his arms. It should make him feel embarrassed, Eddie thinks, like he's a fucking child. But it doesn't. It helps him to let the sounds of the raging storm fade to background noise, finally taken over by the symphony that is Steve.

By the time the storm dies down, Eddie is pretty sure he must have fallen asleep at some point, because somehow he imagines that Steve presses a gentle kiss against his temple.

#this has been sitting in my drafts for literal months #and i finally managed to kill off this part that i loved but was too out of place #so i have extremely mixed feelings about this :')#tw ptsd #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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mlmxreader · 23 days

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05/04 onwards prompts

side note: this prompt list is only for requests to be sent to @mlmxreader , please do not use for your own writing or your own inspiration, thank you.

rules: you can mix & match as always!! multiple prompts can be sent at a time!! there's 30 in each (90 in total), so there should be plenty!

RULES & GUIDELINES

misc dialogue

“I did it exactly the way you liked it”

“Call it off!”

“Either you get out of my face, or you kiss me”

“Look, I can keep you safe here”

“Didn’t I promise to always be there?”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that it meant nothing”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Please tell me you found something”

“Just ignore the bloody phone”

“Seemed like your kinda thing”

“Bite your fucking tongue or I will cut it out”

“Are you sure that this is what you want?”

“Sit down. We need to talk about whatever the fuck this is between us”

“Easy, easy! Calm down!”

“Can you, erm, can you stay the night? I don’t… I don’t wanna be alone”

“I trust you - it’s everybody else I don’t trust”

“We can’t unring this bell”

“Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“So, what’d you wanna do?”

“Stop biting your lip like that”

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” “Maybe”

“I just need to hear you say that this - me - is what you want”

“You said you couldn’t stay.” “It’s different”

“Don’t leave me again”

“Do not fucking scare me like that!”

“C’mon, it ain’t all bad”

“Not even a good luck kiss?”

“We can do this together, if that’s what you want”

“What’s the matter with you? You’re all… distant and shit”

“Sucks, don’t it?”

rules & guidelines

LYRICS

Orville Peck: Dead Of Night, Winds Change, Turn To Hate, Queen Of The Rodeo, Kansas (Remembers Me Now)

Judas Priest: Breaking The Law, Grinder, United, You Don’t Have To Be Old To Be Wise

“You're right by my side”

“You wake me up, you say it's time to ride”

“I don't mean no lies, baby, please don't lose it”

“From the way that we said goodbye, I knew I'd never see you again”

“Don't leave, don't cry”

“You're just another boy caught in the rye”

“Tell me you can't wait”

“Tell me you can stay”

“You rode on in with nowhere else to go”

“You know the tune so the words don't matter”

“Beyond this town lies a life much sadder”

“Babe, I know”

“Come and lay down your shoulder”

“Tomorrow isn't that far”

“Just know you were always my star”

“All inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town”

“Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die”

“I've had every promise broken, there's anger in my heart”

“You don't know what it's like, you don't have a clue”

“That's why I won't get caught”

“I need room to breathe”

“I take my leave”

“They're moving in”

“Hold your ground”

“We can do it”

“So keep it up”

“Don't give in”

“Let's get one thing straight”

“I'll choose my fate”

“And it's got nothing to do with you”

rules & guidelines

FILMS

Horror: JAWS (1975), The Silence of the Lambs (1991), The Thing (1982), The Wolf Man (1941), Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931)

“You yell shark, and we got a panic on our hands on the fourth of July”

“It wasn’t any propeller, it wasn’t any coral reef, and it wasn’t any Jack the Ripper - it was a shark”

“This guy, he keeps swimming around in place until the food goes down”

“Smile, you son of a bitch”

“But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? What about it? Why don’t you - why don’t you look at yourself and write down what you see? Or maybe you’re afraid to”

“I know you gentlemen have been through a lot, but when you find the time, I’d rather not spend the rest of this winter tied to this fucking couch!”

“Yeah, fuck you, too!”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding”

“I dunno what the hell’s in there, but it’s weird and pissed off whatever it is”

“You’re gonna have to sleep sometime.” “I’m a real light sleeper”

“Now I’ll show you what I already know”

“The generator’s gone.” “Any way we can fix it?” “It’s gone”

“Poor baby, you’re starting to lose it”

“There’s a storm hitting us in about six hours. We’re going to find out who’s who”

“The way you walked was thorny, through no fault of your own, but as the rain enters the soil, the river enters the sea, so tears run to a predestined end”

“Frightened, of what?” “Of the night.” “Rubbish. You startled me.”

“A werewolf can only be killed by a silver bullet, or a silver knife...or a stick with a silver handle”

“I tell you, I killed a wolf! A plain, ordinary wolf!”

“It isn't a wolf... it's a werewolf!”

“Were you hurrying back to the castle? Did you have a moment's doubt? Were you hurrying to make sure he's all right?”

“Now you asked me if I believe a man can become a wolf. If you mean "Can it take on the physical traits of an animal?" No, it's fantastic.”

“Just imagine having a stuffed werewolf staring at you from the wall!”

“Is this your walking stick?” “Why, yes. That's the stick I killed the wolf with.”

“Don't try to make me believe that I killed a man when I know that I killed a wolf!”

“There's something very tragic about that man... and I'm sure that nothing but harm will come to you through him.”

“It's not a horse's head. That's a wolf's head. Make a note of that”

“Whoever is bitten by a werewolf and lives becomes a werewolf himself.” “Ah, don't hand me that. You're just wasting your time.” “The wolf bit you, didn't he?” “Yeah. Yeah he did!”

“Perhaps you prefer a gentleman. One of those fine-mannered and honourable gentlemen. Those panting hypocrites”

“Forgotten it? Can a man dying of thirst forget water? And do you know what would happen to that thirst if it were to be denied water?”

“Gentlemen like me have to be very careful of what we do and say”

rules & guidelines

SONG FICS!

#do not use for your own thanks #this is ONLY for requests to be sent to me

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lunarw0rks · 10 months

Text

Through The Ashes | Chapter Five

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): my attempt at slow-burn, canon-typical violence, mild language, mentions of violence, injuries, blood, hurt/comfort kinda??

A/N: I've been using dialogue from the campaign for these chapters, so hopefully it translates well enough. Thank you for all the support :) | Word Count: 3.5k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

Kiss Of Judas

Valeria remained completely silent during the entire helicopter ride, refusing to look anyone around her in the eyes. She never expected to be caught, at least not by foreign forces. She was a complicated woman in your eyes, always nearly impossible to read.

You still felt jumpy and wired from the whole operation as the adrenaline began to dwindle, which was not helping your impatience. Valeria was the reason for your condition, but also the reason you didn’t get the life squeezed out of you. And yet, here she was, not giving your Task Force any reach on where to find the missiles.

You opened the door with your keycard and stepped inside, seeing her sitting in the middle of the room—surrounded by your team and the allies.

Her eyes flicked up at you when she heard the motion, mirroring the look she had in her eyes when you were the one in the interrogation chair. You ran your tongue over the cut on your lip, keeping a blank expression.

“Las Almas needs me,” she purrs, giving Alejandro and you a glance. She was searching for any sign of emotion in your eyes as if testing you. You weren’t going to give it to her, or anyone else in this room who tried the same.

Alejandro bends down closer to her, hovering his face in front of hers. “Las Almas needs soldiers, not sicarios… And you,” he begins, looking back at you before he speaks, as if referencing what she let happen to you. “You disgrace the Army, Valeria.”

She wasn’t like Hassan.

He was too emotional when backed into a corner—he was cruel. She always kept a cool attitude about her, always steps ahead of her enemies. And she harbored one skill you hadn’t mastered yet—keeping your enemies close.

Ghost remains posed against the wall, only keeping his eyes trained on the target. “You’re a narco harboring a terrorist.”

Valeria maintains a grimace, carelessly leaning against the back of her chair. “Terrorism is good for business, it’s insurance.”

“Innocent civilians turned to ash, all to protect your drug game?” You finally spoke up, crossing your arms to your chest. When law enforcement is more focused on maimed civilians, they turn a blind eye to the war on drugs.

She ignores what you’re implying, too intelligent to admit that out loud. “To find your terrorist and your missiles, you need me.” Valeria tilts her head, observing the tightness you were carrying in your posture.

Graves approaches her from behind, gripping one of her shoulders with a gloved hand. “I want the missiles, I want the targets, and I want Hassan. You’ve got ten seconds or I’m gonna show you the difference between the military and me.” For once, his combativeness might get you the answers you needed.

To get to Valeria, you needed to mirror her. Ladylike interrogation was not the way she did things, so the opposite was all she knew.

“I can tell you where to find the missiles. When you return, I’ll tell you where Hassan is.” She never meets Graves’ eyes. “In exchange, you will let me go. And get the fuck out of Las Almas.”

“Deal.” Graves loosens his grip and nods his head to the rest of you.

Making a deal with her was not in the team’s best interest, not in the slightest.

Graves only saw the big picture ahead of him, and he didn’t pay any mind to the people he would trample to get to that goal.

—

The intel Valeria grave led your team to an oil rig miles out on the Gulf Of Mexico. Considering how horribly wrong your last mission involving water went, you were hesitant to see the team going along with it, even if it did lead to the missiles.

How could you be sure Valeria was being honest? She had no reason to. She had the entirety of your unit wrapped around her fingers, and that’s exactly how she wanted it.

Perhaps you were lucky you nearly died the previous night because you were going to sit the mission out.

You’re sat on your bunk, cleaning your pistol with a rag, being the only person left in the quarters. Your eyes flick up toward Ghost as he approaches. Usually you would ignore him, or have some snarky remark, but there were bigger problems everyone was facing.

“Do you think the missiles will be where she said they would?” You questioned, setting the rag on the mattress beside you.

“She knows if she gives us this, we’ll have no choice but to set her free.” He keeps his eyes on the ground, still refusing to look you in the eyes. “We’ve been through situations like this before. Terrorists are all the same—only out for themselves.”

You nodded and dropped down from the top bunk to face him. He turned around hesitantly, his face contorting in confusion.

You looked around the room, making sure it was clear before you spoke. “What about Graves? Is he only out for himself?” You muttered, leaning close to him.

“He’s an ally of ours, until we know otherwise, you need to act like it, Sergeant.” He grumbled while reaching for his pack. The truth was, Ghost didn’t trust any of them either. The way Graves forced you into the operation yesterday made him seethe.

Ghost blinked away the emotions that filled him. The flashbacks he had, hearing you struggle for yourself in his ear, the gunshot that followed with silence—all while all he could do was stay put on the hillside.

He grabbed his bag and looped it around his shoulder. “Just say put here, and don’t make any more enemies while you’re at it. Think you can handle that?” He added, looking down at you as if you were dirt on his shoes.

You knew you were right. The most spiteful people have their weaknesses, and Graves had one for sure. Even if no one believed you now, they would soon. You just hoped no one had to die for it to become clear.

—

You’re awoken by what sounds like a disturbance outside, and the voices are familiar. The team must be back from disarming the missiles. You look at the clock, seeing it’s early in the morning.

You sit up straight and gather your composure, curious about what’s going on. Whatever it was didn’t sound good at all.

“This is my base.” You press your ear to the wall, hearing Alejandro’s voice first.

“It’s not a base. This is a sizable covert facility, and I admire it.” Graves speaks next. “So, I’m taking it.”

You feel like your jaw dropped to the floor. You were right all along, and things were about to go very bad very fast. You climb off your bunk and put on your backpack, grabbing all of your gear.

“Nobody needs to get hurt here.”

“Are you threatening us?” Ghost asks. You can practically feel the tension building, even if all you’re hearing is bits and pieces.

You peer out the window, seeing them standing at the gate. Alejandro is inches from Graves’ face; Soap is in the middle of it; and Ghost preemptively has a hand on his knife, searching for any excuse to use it.

Where are the rest of Los Vaqueros? The realization came that you hadn’t seen any of them since the team left.

A burst of gunfire filled your ears, making you jump. You didn’t have time to sit around and watch, and you weren’t going to be the next person sent home in a box. You grab your pistol and make sure it’s loaded and ready.

The compound will be swarmed with Shadows any minute now—and there was no time to regroup with your team.

You hear Graves’ voice again, but this time through a nearby radio, followed by the stomping of boots. “2-0, cordon the compound. If you find Ghost and Soap, keep them contained. Find the other one, she won't get far.”

You kneel behind the large structural pillar, watching as one of the Shadows patrols the sleeping quarters. He turns his back to respond, “Sleeping quarters are clear, Sir. No sign of her.” You crept behind him, jamming your knife into his jugular.

He goes down quietly, only suffering for a matter of seconds. The Shadow didn’t deserve your brutality. He couldn’t have known what hand Graves was going to play up until now. Still, it was better for them to be dead than you. And there was no time for a moral dilemma.

You jog to the armory, finding it cleared out. Graves was thinking way ahead of just taking the building, he was taking the inventory too, leaving your team with nothing. “Goddammit,” you muttered to yourself, before dashing back to the Shadow’s body. You winced as you ripped the rifle from the corpse’s stiff fingers.

You need to keep moving.

You advance to the upper level, wagering that it would be less noticeable to take one of the side exits up top. You do just that, finding a window in one of the offices to squeeze yourself through. Your feet prowl down the metal steps, keeping your eyes peeled for any hostiles. Lucky for you, the backend of the base isn’t well protected.

Your boots crunch the gravel below you, even when acting at your stealthiest. You reach one of the tall chainlinks bordering the perimeter, and loop one foot through it, taking each ascendant one foot at a time.

You reach the top, using the fabric of your shirt to protect your hands from the barbed wire. You carefully swing your leg over, and follow with the other, now descending down the other side. You drop down once the distance is close enough, taking only a second to catch your breath.

The easy part's over—now you needed to find an area that wasn’t crawling with Shadows on the lookout for your face.

The previous night's injuries didn’t make the ordeal any easier. You found yourself having to rest quicker than usual, almost letting out pained grunts when you extended your limbs. You needed to push through it, just like you did when you survived the tunnels.

You removed one of the backpack straps off your shoulders, leaving it to rest on one side, while the weapon rested on the other. You need to get out of here before another Shadow patrol rotates your way again.

The only sound in the distance was chirping insects, and faint traffic pollution from the city and the base behind you. Things were too quiet.

“Commander, possible sighting by the North Tower, engaging now.” You heard faintly, making your eyes bulge. Your feet carried you before your mind could decide to, making some distance between yourself and the noise.

You felt the rush of the bullets whizzing around you as you bolted until eventually you were knocked down by a lucky one. Your body tumbled down, rolling into one of the ditches. You felt a fiery sting on the fatty part of your hip, flinching as you pulled down the part of your waistband atop the wound. It was a deep slice, bloody and jagged torn skin.

Mercifully, the backpack slowed down the force of the bullet when it zipped through. It grazed your skin instead of being buried inside it.

“Approaching to confirm the hit, Sir.” The voice from before carries, as it echoes through the vastness of the humid air.

“Don’t confirm it—Finish it.” Graves chirps through, sending a rush through your veins. Once the Shadow finds you, it wouldn’t be a graze. If there was any chance of making it out of here, you needed to either choose fight or flight.

You muffled the sounds of agony escaping through your lips, biting into them instead. You scrambled to your feet, reaching for your pistol.

The soldier’s radio static grew louder as he examined the ditch, expecting you to still be laying there. In reality, you were behind one of the concrete dividers lining the path. Before he noticed you, you fired off one shot, dropping the Shadow. You followed the lights of the city in the distance, getting yourself as far away from where you fired as possible.

When you made it several yards away from the compound, finding yourself on a sidestreet, you finally utilized the radio clipped to your collar.

You turned the knob, finding the correct channel so it would go straight to anyone in 141 and not the Shadows. “This is 7-1, how copy? Anyone?” You grew frustrated at the lack of answer. “I repeat, this is 7-1. Anyone copy?”

The voice glitched at first, before it finally came through. He says your name, his tone filled with defeat and worry.

“How copy, Sergeant? You injured?” The reception finally cleared, allowing you to hear it clearly.

You sighed and cleared your throat. “I’m hit, but solid. I got a dozen Shadows chasing my tail. What the hell happened?”

Ghost doesn’t answer your question, but deflects. You sense it has to do with what he spat your way before they left. He knew you were right about Graves, and he wasn’t, and he couldn’t handle admitting that right now.

“There’s a church near the plaza. I’m heading there now. Any sign of Johnny?”

“No. You’re the first I’ve come in contact with. Was he hit? I heard shots before I got out of there.” You continue down the backroad, approaching the main district of Las Almas.

“Affirmative. Keep your eyes peeled for him. And watch your back, Sergeant.” The line cuts after he finishes his sentence, leaving you to stay alive on your own. Soap must be somewhere in the shops in the same prickly situation you are.

There was no time to search for Soap, especially if he’s left a trail of Shadow bodies through the city. You’re of no use out here when you’re bleeding all over yourself.

You needed to find Ghost.

—

Each time a gun fired in the distance, you had to double check you weren’t hit again, even though it felt foolish.

You finally reached the outskirts of the plaza, where the Church was sitting on the top of a hill. It looked almost ancient, tilting to one side. You hovered your finger over the pistol trigger as you crept to the door. You pushed it open, hearing it creak loudly as you did so. There was no light inside, except for where the night sky peaked through the holes in the walls, and one large gap in the roof.

Finally, you spotted his figure near the altar, knelt beside it. You limped up to it, meeting his eyes, which were all you could see given the dark clothing he was wearing.

You slowly dropped to your knees next to him, placing your pistol in the holster. “No sign of Soap while I was out there. Goddamn city is infested with Shadows.”

He nodded at your update, grabbing one of the stray candles off the altar. He fishes out his lighter and puts it to the wick, illuminating your battered appearance, while allowing you to view him.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, studying him as he takes the backpack off your shoulders, and begins to dig through it.

“I didn’t have time to pack supplies. There’s nothing whole in there.” You comment, watching as his brow tightens in concentration.

He still hasn’t uttered a word this entire time, simply returning deep glances through the warm candle fire. You flinch when he reaches toward you, but his hands are gentle and slow. He pulls up the fabric of your shirt only slightly, and pulls down the side of your waistband now turned a deep maroon.

You keep still as he examines the graze. He grips the sleeve of his jacket, and rips off a square of fabric with ease, beginning to pack the wound. You snuff out your struggles when he touches the tender parts, clenching your jaw instead.

For the first time, it wasn’t him saving you because he had to; he was because wanted to. He was showing an inkling of the tenderness buried deep within him.

He finished packing the wound with the tear of fabric, before carefully covering your bare hip with your waistband again.

You rise to your feet again, making sure not to put pressure on that side of you. You’re expecting hours of silence between you and him—hours of agonizing silence.

He finally speaks once his back is turned to you, as if he can’t look you in the eye. “You were right about Graves.” He sounded apologetic, like if he had just believed you before, none of this would’ve happened to you.

You tilted your head delicately, stepping closer to him. “Ghost… This isn’t on you. You couldn’t have known Graves would flip.”

He was looking down at the wood floor below him in disappointment, looking as if he wanted to curse himself. You reached out your hand, placing your fingertips on his forearm.

“Ghost,” you whispered. He shook his head and gathered himself before facing you, flinching away from your hand. His eyes had gone glossy, filled with angst.

“If this is about what I said, Ghost—It’s not a concern of mine anymore… We clearly have bigger problems.” You finished your sentence with a light smile, trying your best to lighten the mood. Your attempt to add comedy did nothing to ease him tearing himself apart inside.

“Did you hear me, Simon?” The first time you’ve said his name. He casted a look you’d never seen before. Not hardness, not anger, just torment.

“People like me don’t belong with people like you, Sergeant.” His exterior ran cold again, and he straightened his posture. “Everything that we did, everything you went through because of it, that was all me. Got it?”

You were stunned, completely stunned. You spent so long being angry at him, that you were blind to the truth of it. It wasn’t arrogance he used as a shield, it was his scars.

“Simon-” You repeat, feeling like you have been sucker-punched in the gut.

“Don’t say my name like it means something to you. None of it meant anything to me.” He snaps, stepping closer to you, using his frame to tower over you. The vulnerability he showed only last seconds before it quickly became a thorn in your side.

He lowered his voice to give his last blow. “I break everything I touch… I’ll break your heart, Love.”

You felt tears sting at the corner of your eyes. You tried to be stronger than this, but paired with everything you’d been through to get you to this spot, it was too much.

You quickly wiped them away and ripped your backpack from his grasp, slinging it back on your shoulder. You hurried toward the church doors, painting your face void of the emotions you were feeling.

Once you were outside, you radioed the frequency again. “Soap, how copy?”

He replied almost instantly. “Copy. I’m by the shopping district.”

Instead of following behind Ghost like usual, you led him. You ducked through alleyways, avoiding the Shadows rather than taking them out. There were still too many left to count. When you reached the shopping district, you and Ghost split off to take out each hostile one by one. With each kill, you followed the bloody trail that would lead you to Soap.

When you laid eyes on him, you let out a breath of relief. He was only hit on his arm, and it went through.

“Forgive me, Lass.” He was slumped against a brick wall, holding his injury. “But you look horrible.” At least you knew there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with him now. Focusing on him made you forget about your troubles with Ghost, even for just a minute.

“Well, it’s clear there’s no brain damage.” You said backhandedly, reaching out your hand to him.

You helped him to his feet and found an empty vehicle that was left behind, allowing him to climb inside. Ghost took the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat. You kept your eyes trained on the passing views as Ghost sped out of the city, showing no signs of slowing down for anything.

Las Almas was soon to be a distant memory—a memory that lingered within you nonetheless.

—

You craned your neck up at the aquamarine sky, your attention locked to it. You had to find the beauty of this place somewhere, even if the experience was only filled with violence and heartache.

The rest of your team was finishing up business with Valeria. You decided to sit it out. The closer you stood to the plane, the faster you would be climbing inside of it when they finished their business here.

Price and the rest of the Task Force approached the cargo plane you were standing by, making you break your gaze with the sky.

“Good work here, Private.” He patted your back and then returned his hands to the collar of his tactical vest.

“It’s not over yet. Valeria was privy to a third missile, somewhere in Chicago. Might be another long flight.” You acknowledged the update, following him onto the plane. It never truly ends, does it?

There are only moves and countermoves until there’s no one left standing to shoot at or bomb.

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