#they were dirt cheap at £20 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 7.5k

Chapter 1/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Late August, 1996.

July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana.

The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior.

“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool.

“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it.

“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”

The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking.

You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”

She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”

You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.

“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”

Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.

“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”

“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too.

“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in.

“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”

An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended.

“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”

“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated.

“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.

“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do.

“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.”

The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”

“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.”

Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.

“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said.

A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.

“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.

“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.

Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.

The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.

“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”

Oh.

“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol.

“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”

“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically.

Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”

Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself.

Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink.

“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth.

Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band.

You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”

She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”

You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis.

“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt.

Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name.

Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat.

“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.

“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”

“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.

But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”

“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”

He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”

“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”

“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.

“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”

You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence.

“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.

Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.

Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.

“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”

“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.

“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”

He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”

“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.

“Turned thirty last month.”

“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.

You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.”

End of conversation.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs.

“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”

Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.

“You still want to?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”

Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home.

You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.

A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.

“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.

“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.

The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.

Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.

“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.

“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…

Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”

You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building.

The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.”

You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.

Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.

“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin.

“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.

“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it.

Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”

You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.

“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.

Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”

“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers.

Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.

Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth.

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”

He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him.

“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend.

“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.

“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.

“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.

“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”

“Huh? What?”

“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.

“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”

Stay for a bit, baby.

It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!”

He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you.

You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.

You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.

You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.

“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”

That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”

Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”

Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.

You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.

“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.

“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night?

“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”

“Yeah…is Jess there?”

He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”

“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.

But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.

Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”

Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.”

His…son?

Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”

“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”

“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”

“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.

“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”

You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?

The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.

Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.

Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.

“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.

“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.

“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”

“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.

A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”

Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.

You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best.

The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.

“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”

“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.

Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…

And a Harris Munson.

“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”

The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.

You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes.

“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”

“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead.

“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie.

“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”

You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now.

“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”

“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”

The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks.

Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”

“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys.

“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks.

“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek.

You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”

Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”

“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.

After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.

“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”

He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”

“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”

Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.

Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.”

Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.

“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris.

Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts.

“Excuse me?”

“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face.

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”

Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Can’t come soon enough.”

Taglist: @littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

3K notes · View notes

dragonloanshark · 2 years

Text

I am going to break something

#i cant. afford anything #and to rub it in my face like ‘haha if you were british this book would be dirt cheap. sucks to suck’#SINCE WHEN ARE BOOKS $40 #literally I can’t find a paperback under $20 (most are $25) and hardcovers are all at least $30 most are more #whyyy why why why I will never be able to afford a book ever again #claire.txt

0 notes

patrollingboston · 2 months

Note

Hiya! Could you write a fic where we have to share a bed with Price?

Much love ❤️

An awkward conversation // Price x reader fluff

guilty pleasure one bed trope, this is not meant to be realistic!

After completing gruelling week on a mission, You, Gaz, Soap and Price were headed back to the pickup location to take you all back to base. The conversations being shared were short and snappy due to everyone’s exhaustion. Gaz was fast asleep snoring like bear and it was driving you insane. Soap had earphones in as Captain Price drove along the long stretch of road ahead whilst you were directing him from the passenger seat.

A loud crackle buzzed through everyone’s radio; Gaz snapped awake as everyone focussed on the voice on the other end of the radio.

“Bravo 0-6?”

“Price, you there?”

“What is it Laswell?”

Price held down the button on his radio whilst his eyes remained focused on the road ahead. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel occasionally looking over at you. Everyone’s curiosity was peaked as the mission was over, why would Laswell need to contact them now?

“Nikolai has a problem with exfil, his helicopter has needed some uh, um emergency maintenance. We can’t fly you back to base until tomorrow morning, can you all find a motel nearby just to rest up for a night?”

“Oh, fucking hell- “

Gaz groaned, Soap joining him. You flopped your head back against the headrest in protest. Everyone just wanted to go home, sleep in their own beds, eat normal warm food and be alone.

“Is there no other option? I think we all just want to be back ASAP Laswell.”

“Fraid’ not, earliest we can get to you is 8am tomorrow.”

“Alright, we will sort something out.”

Price said taking his hand off the steering wheel for a second to rub his temples, you glanced over noticing how tired his eyes looked. Everyone’s did.

With that statement the radio cut off. Everyone’s eyes were on Price as he was magically going be able to solve the issue.

“Well, what’s the plan?”

Soap chimed in, peeking his head round from the back of the car.

“There’s a cheap motel not too far, look we aren’t going to be there long. It’s already late, it’s just to clean up and get some rest. I know it’s not ideal.”

“I’m sure we can survive one more night, at least it will be warm?”

You spoke, trying to lift the mood of your fellow soldiers only to be met by awkward silence.

Price tapped on his phone to get directions to the motel. He was right about needing to clean up. Everyone was in their gear, dirt and mud were splashed over everyone’s clothes and face.

“I miss real food.”

Gaz said, Soap nodded in agreement as he began bumbling on about a restaurant near his house.

10 minutes later the car pulled up into the carpark for the motel. There wasn’t much to say about it, it didn’t look too bad from the outside but in your current state of tiredness you would sleep in a bed made of cardboard.

“Gaz, Soap go get us rooms, we will unload the car.”

Price ordered, Gaz and Soap split off entering the reception as you and him began lugging in everyone’s duffel bags. It was quite sparse, a few potted plants and a strikingly red carpet that frankly was hurting your weary eyes.

“Cap? They only have 2 rooms.”

You placed the bag down you were carrying and peered over to soap who was stood speaking to the receptionist.

Price sighed so loudly you could hear it from across the room.

“Well, we can go two and two, or we can take a chance on the other motel, think it was about 20 minutes away.”

You stepped over the pile of bags to join the conversation.

“I don’t mind sharing, please I just want to shower and lie down.”

You said rubbing your eyes, smearing the warpaint from earlier.

“Who goes with who?”

You suddenly felt everyone’s gaze on you.

“You pick F/N you’re the only woman here.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

You teased as you watched Gaz’s face drop.

“No that’s not what I meant, c’mon.”

You weighed the pros and cons of each person in your head, quickly ruling out soap for how often he liked to flirt with people, that could never end well. Gaz was an option? But you recently discovered he snores and you needed sleep. That only left Price, your captain. You didn’t mind him, in fact over time you had grown quite fond of him despite his grumpy attitude and hat collection.

“I’ll go with Price.”

Price’s eyes widened ever so subtly; it seemed like he was taken back you chose him. His face quickly returned back to normal but you still managed to see the change in it.

A few moments later you stood outside in the hallway shoulder to shoulder with price as he wrestled with the dodgy room key.

“Sonofa- got it.”

He said before cracking a little smile and barging the door open.

You stepped inside looking at the (one again bright red) carpet laden with cigarette burns, you shrugged the bags onto the floor before going into the rest of the room and standing beside price who looked to be in deep in thought. You followed his gaze to find it.

One bed.

One bed that looks like it was made of concrete, with white ruffled sheets and 2 sad pillows.

Your stomach sunk, you had read about this in books and seen it in films and now it was happening to you.

You gulped loudly, praying Price didn’t sense your hesitation.

“I’ll sleep on the floor- “

He said sharply, it caught you off guard. What do you do now? Do you object? Do you share the bed? Do you let him stay on the floor?

“No, I know you’re just as tired as me, I don’t care, please.”

You said gesturing to the bed. He turned around and gave you a kind smile before he sat on the end and started removing his boots.

“I’m going to hop in the shower.”

He nodded as you stepped into the backroom locking the door behind you. That shower might have been the most heavenly experience of your life. Washing away weeks build-up of dirt on yourself. The warm water flowed down your back; you could have stayed in there forever. You stepped out wrapping the white towel around yourself as you reached for your bag. You searched through it trying to find something you could comfortably sleep in. Most stuff in there needed a wash as it was covered in dirt or sweat. You cursed under your breathe as you unlocked the bathroom door and peeked your head out.

“Hey Price?”

He was sat on the bed with his arms folded across his chest, intently watching the little crappy tv.

“Mhm?”

He said his gaze finding you, you could have sworn his eyes faltered and fell up and down you. Pushing back down the blush creeping up your cheeks you responded.

“Do you have anything I could sleep in? My stuff is all uh in need of a wash.”

“Oh, um let me look.”

He hopped off the bed and bent over to rummage around in his backpack before throwing you a khaki green shirt.

“That work?”

“Cheers.”

You closed the bathroom door again before changing into the shirt. It hung below your knees like a nightgown. It was so comfy compared to the mountains of gear you had been wearing for the previous week. It smelt like him too, it was comforting.

You walked into the room; Price had changed now. He was wearing a tight-fitting grey shirt and some baggy shorts. You had never seen him this casual, it was weird but you also liked it however you couldn’t deny how good he looked in his gear too but you would never let anyone know you thought this.

You peered over at the clock.

1:23

Price was just beginning to pull back the duvet on the left side of the bed. Would it be awkward if you did the same? God, it felt like watching an awkwardly married couple get into bed. You both climbed into the bed, the space between you was almost amusing, it was clear you were both trying to avoid one another.

“Night F/N.”

He grumbled, shuffling around to get comfy.

“Night!”

You chirped back, your voice slightly breaking in doing so.

The both of you were so tired you fell straight asleep.

You woke up to some movement beside you in the early hours of the morning. Your eyes fluttered trying to gather your surroundings only to find yourself wrapped in someone’s arms. Realizing whose arms, it was you were torn on what to do. You decided to stay still, letting yourself take in the warmth. You lay there comfortably, his breathe tickling the top of your head as you fell asleep trying not to think about the awkward conversation this would lead to next morning.

447 notes · View notes

libraford · 5 months

Text

Every black friday, I think of when I worked for walmart before Amazon was a big deal and the only way to get certain electronics for dirt cheap was to line up at midnight and wait for one of us to unwrap the stacks.

Our strategy that year was misguided- people could line up and wait til 3am when we wheeled them out, but if you left the line for any reason youd have to go to the back of the line. We had a guard at each line to prevent people from cutting or getting into a fight.

They sent me to guard the $200 laptops.

People lined up at midnight. The rules were posted. Stand in line, do not move. Once the stack is open it's one per person.

After the first hour, attendees were starting to get pissy with me, a 20-something getting paid less than 10$ an hour, because they chose to wait three hours for a shitty hp laptop. At one point they started pointing at me and yelling 'hall monitor' which was ridiculous because- again, no one is forcing you to be here.

When the stack came out, they all rushed, the entire stock was gone in three minutes.

But it was done. And I could go back to stocking shelves. As I'm pulling a pallet of diapers from the back, a woman stops me. It is now 7am

"Where are the 100$ laptops that were being advertised?"

"I'm sorry, but those sold out within the first ten minutes."

She's furious. "Well! I guess my children will have to be STUPID in school, then."

And that stuck with me for a long time, and will stick with me for a long time, because in 2010, laptops were not a requirement for most schools and if you needed to type up a report for class you did what everyone else did and went to the library where you could do all this for free.

Anyways, this story didnt have much of a point apart from be nice to anyone working retail this season because most people shopping right now forget how to act right.

700 notes · View notes

design-is-fine · 1 month

Text

HIPGNOSIS.BREATHE. Album Cover Art und Photo Design by Aubrey Powell & Storm Thorgerson Celebrating 50 Years THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON. Exhibition Ludwiggalerie Schloss Oberhausen, Germany, 21. Januar – 20. Mai 2024.

01 Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon, Design Hipgnosis, A. Powell, S. Thorgerson © Pink Floyd Music Ltd. 02 10cc, Look Hear? © Hipgnosis 03 ACDC, Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap © Hipgnosis 04 Led Zeppelin, Presence © Hipgnosis 05 Peter Gabriel, Scratch © Peter Gabriel 06 Pink Floyd, Animals © Pink Floyd Music Ltd. 07 Pink Floyd, Arnold Layne © Pink Floyd Music Ltd. 08 Pink Floyd, Belsize Park, Foto Aubrey Powell © Pink Floyd Music Ltd. 09 Pink Floyd, Live at Knebworth 1990 © Pink Floyd Music Ltd. 10 Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here, back sleeve, invisible businessman © Pink Floyd Music Ltd. 11 Rainbow, The Best of Rainbow © Hipgnosis 12 Pretty Things, Savage Eye © Hipgnosis

#album cover #music #cover design #british design

183 notes · View notes

bitterpotionn · 8 months

Text

Johnny Slaughter - Thoroughfare

This is kind of a long one. I based a lot of elements on my favorite Ethel Cain song, Thoroughfare. Listen to her album, Preachers Daughter if you ever get a chance. It's actually life-changing.

I consider this fic a bit of a prequel to "Dirt Road" but you don't have to read that one to understand this one.

As always any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome! I am so thankful for all the love on "Dirt Road", I hope you all like this one as well!

Warnings: Dub-con, unsafe sex, car sex (again), Johnny is manipulative and mean, light fluff, neck grabbing, unhealthy dynamics, smoking, name-calling, Johnny is possessive, light slapping

She walked down the near-vacant streets of an old Texas town. Her feet ached as she made her way down the cracked sidewalk. The air around her was stale and unmoving, no breeze, nothing to cool her down from the blistering heat of the Texas sun. She kept her head down, counting each of her steps. Well, she attempted to, but she always messed up around the 1000 mark and had to restart. Her brown satchel bag draped over her shoulder seemed to get heavier with each step she took.

After a while of walking, she spotted an old gas station on the outskirts of the small town. It was nothing special, only having two pumps outside, with a garage attached to the side of the shop. Only one car was at the pump, an old white pickup truck. She tried to quicken her pace, eager to reach a resting point. Once there, she entered the small shop and browsed around, looking for a cheap snack that could last her a couple of hours. She walked up to the counter and was greeted by the toothy smile of an old man.

"This it for ya hun?" he asked picking up the snickers bar she placed gently on the counter.

"Yes sir, that's all" she spoke softly. He raised an eyebrow, examining her rugged appearance. "Well that'll be 20 cents"

She gave him a nod and started rummaging through her satchel, counting out the small amount of money she had on the counter. "Here's 20..." she muttered pushing the two dimes toward him.

He gave her a frown and took the change. He rung her up, before handing her the Snickers bar he turned and grabbed a bottle of water. He pushed both items towards her. "You be safe out there alright? Dangerous out there for a young woman alone" he said giving her a small smile.

She smiled back at him, noticing his small act of kindness through the bottle of water. "Thank you sir, I'll be okay" she said simply before turning and walking out of the store, the ring of the welcome bell behind her.

Leaning against his white truck a man watched her as she walked out. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. Her clothes were dirty and worn. Her hair was unkempt. A thin layer of sweat reflected off of her skin. He bit down on his lip, feeling a small pulse in his stomach.

She didn't even notice the man as she continued down the road. Opening the Snickers bar and devouring it in a couple of bites. She took a long sip of the water, before putting the rest of it in her bag. Back to counting steps.

Behind her, she could hear the roaring of a vehicle approaching her. She paid it no mind as she continued walking. She didn't take notice until it slowed down right beside her, the passenger side window creaking open. She turned to look, noticing the white truck from the gas station. She stopped and looked into the window, where she spotted him.

He was leaning towards his passenger side window to get a better look at her. A smirk adorned his sharp features. Thick brown hair framed his face, he couldn't be much older than her. She noted a scar running down the right side of his face. He quickly snapped her out of her staring.

"Hey there, where you headin'" his accent was thick and his voice deep.

She shook her head and began walking slowly "Nowhere, I don't need a ride" she said curtly, continuing on her path. The man didn't let up though, his truck matched her speed as he continued staring at her.

"Hey now, don't run off. You look rough, you sure you don't need a ride?" he asked, the same smirk adorning his face. She couldn't quite decipher it. Sure he was handsome, but something about him felt...off.

She looked down at her aching feet, noticing small streaks of blood, she's been walking forever. A ride might be nice right? She turned back toward him and nodded "Alright"

He stopped the truck fully and put it in park, he leaned over and opened the door for her. She looked behind her, hesitating for a moment. She didn't necessarily want to just hop into a stranger's car, but she was exhausted. His truck sure did beat walking though. So without a word, she hopped into the passenger seat of his car.

"There ya go, darlin'" he said as he leaned back, looking at her intently. "So where you headin' off to all by yourself?"

"I...no where in particular. I guess I'm just tryin' getaway. Ya know?" she said turning her head to meet his intense stare. He gave her a knowing nod, all while smirking wide. "Do you live around here?" she asked.

He shook his head and leaned back a bit. "No ma'am, I guess I'm trying to get away too. I've been away from home for a while now" he started back up his truck again "If your heading nowhere in particular, you care to join me?"

"On your road to self-discovery?" she joked leaning her head back onto the seat, breathing out a sigh of relief when she was finally able to rest her head.

"Somethin' like that" he shifted the car back into gear and took off down the road. "Maybe we can find what we're searching for together hm?" he chuckled. She turned and stared at him, he was smiling. Wide.

The smooth material of the seat stuck uncomfortably to her sweaty thighs. She kept shifting every so often, trying to avoid getting a rash. The diner was lit by the warm glow of wooden pendant lights hanging above every table. At this time of night it was nearly vacant. The only other person was an older man seated on the other side of the diner at the bar, working on his fifth beer of the night.

Johnny sat across her on the other side of the worn vinyl table. He was leaned back, legs spread and eyes focused as he read over the menu. She sipped from her vanilla milkshake, staring at him. Admiring the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was thinking hard about something.

"You folks ready to order?" the voice of an older woman broke her out of her thoughts.

He grunted and set the menu down. "We'll both have the pancakes" He gave the older woman a smile and handed her the menus. She nodded and wrote down the order in her small notebook. "I'll get that in for y'all all" the old woman walked away and out of sight into the small kitchen.

Johnny crossed his arms and looked over at the girl sitting across from him. "Let me try that" he grabbed the milkshake and took a large sip of it. "Hey! I was drinkin' that" she pouted reaching her hand out to retrieve it from him.

"I'm payin' for it" he joked giving her a playful grin. He handed it back to her, the milkshake was now half gone. "Yeah yeah" she mumbled now guarding the milkshake.

They walked hand in hand out of the diner. "Thank you for payin' for dinner these last couple weeks, I really do appreciate it" she said squeezing his hand. "Don't mention it darlin' can't have you starvin' can I?" he teased reaching into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He lit it and blew the smoke into the air. She watched the smoke slowly get carried away by the subtle night breeze.

Once they reached his truck he leaned against the side of it, still holding her hand. She leaned against his side and sighed softly, looking up at the star-less sky. He unlaced their hands and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, keeping her close to him.

She grew to love the feeling of his arms around her. Since she's been with him, she's always felt so safe. She naively thought once or twice that she wouldn't even get a cold around him, that somehow he could prevent any threat that came her way.

"It's been a while since I felt like this ya know?" he muttered, still looking straight ahead. "Like what?" she asked, shifting her eyes to him. "Like...Like I know where I'm headin' now. With you" his eyes slowly looked down at her, a hint of nervousness laced his voice.

Her mouth parted a bit, looking up at him. After a while, she finally spoke. "I feel the same, you make me feel safe, Johnny" she gave him a smile and he chuckled. He put out his cigarette and suddenly lifted her up, leaning her against the truck. Her legs snaked around his waist, her arms hooked behind his head.

"I make you feel safe huh?" He hummed out, stroking his fingers across her back. She nodded in response. "I suppose that's right, I mean who else could protect you like I could?" he leaned forward and caught her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. She could feel his hair brush against her forehead. She melted into the kiss, savoring the taste of syrup and tobacco on his tongue.

After a few moments, he broke the kiss slowly, opening his eyes to look into hers. "You're my girl right?" he asked, an intense look in his eyes. She took notice of this look, it was almost possessive. It made a shiver go down her spine. Despite this feeling, she nodded. "I'm yours, Johnny"

He bit down on his lip and looked around, scanning the empty area of the diner parking lot. "Makin' me feel some type of way, baby" he chuckled and kissed down her neck. "Say it again" he looked at her with hooded lustful eyes.

"I'm...I'm yours, Johnny" He groaned lowly and moved his hips towards her. She could feel his hardening cock through his jeans. She leaned her forehead against his, her face heating up. He looked at her with dark eyes, his smirk growing wider. "Get in the truck"

He held her against the seat of his truck, hovering on top of her. Their lips clashed together, he tried to not break the kiss as he fumbled with his belt. Her hands wrapped around his waist pulling him closer. Once he got his belt undone, he grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them above her head. "Don't move" he muttered lifting up the hem of her shirt, exposing her breasts to the cool air. He chuckled and took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it.

Her back arched into his movements as she let out a small whine. "J-Johnny..." she muttered, her eyes wide with lust, her body trembling from his touch. "Look at you doll, you're shakin', you want it bad huh?" he snickered biting at her breast. He yanked down her shorts and reached a hand down to rub her clit, he chuckled when he felt just how wet she was.

He leaned off of her a bit and sloppily pulled out his hard cock. Her eyes widened when she noticed just how big he was. She wasn't that experienced with boys back home, especially not ones that were packing something like that.

He must have noticed her hesitation as he grabbed the base of his cock and began stroking it in front of her. "Too big, baby?" he teased, a wide grin on his lips. She shrugged and bit down on her lip. "You're not a virgin, are you?" he asked, his free hand playing with her exposed breast. She quickly shook her head "Just...one guy..." she muttered out, her voice laced with embarrassment.

"Well, aren't I lucky?" His smirk widened and he rubbed at her clit. "I'll go easy, promise" his tone was dripping in sarcasm. His words made her nervous, she knew he was quite experienced with sex. She didn't want to disappoint him.

Without warning he lined up his cock to her slit. While staring at her he plunged into her. She gasped and her eyes widened at the sudden feeling. He began thrusting steadily into her, not giving her time to fully adjust to his size. "Johnny! S-slow down a bit..." she mumbled looking into his dark eyes.

"No no baby, if you're gonna be my girl. You gotta learn how to please me, right?" his right hand held her wrists above her head, while his left wrapped around her neck lightly, keeping her in place while he thrust into her. She went silent after that, only allowing small noises to escape her. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to decipher his sudden change in temperament.

His thrusts continued at a dizzying pace. He continued his hold on her, letting out small groans and chuckles as he watched her body move against him. "C'mon baby, you can be loud. Let me hear you" he said as he kissed the side of her face.

She let out a high-pitched moan when his thrusts became more sloppy, he was desperately chasing his climax. "Fuck!" he growled out. He removed his hand from her neck and began rubbing her clit, staring into her eyes, waiting for her reaction. Her mouth fell open as she moaned, feeling overwhelmed by his cock and now his fingers rubbing wildly at her clit. "Cum on my cock, darlin'. I know you can do it, c'mon" he groaned out, his thrusts becoming brutal.

She let out a loud moan that she quickly tried to muffle by burying her head in the crook of his neck. Johnny's grip on her loosened as he came deep inside her cunt. He groaned and buried his face into her hair, panting.

After a long pause, he gripped the back of her head, leaning her back so she was looking into his eyes. "You were such a good girl" he muttered peppering kisses all over her face. She let out a breathy sigh and looked up at him with tired eyes.

Once they both collected themselves and got dressed, Johnny pulled her onto his lap, his head resting against the headrest. She straddled his waist and laid her head on his chest, her eyes unfocused. Her mind couldn't avoid going back to his rough treatment. This was definitely not how she imagined their first time together. While it was good and left her shaking, her change in attitude...scared her. But he was just teaching her what he liked...he didn't mean it in a bad way, right? Her thoughts clouded her mind, filling it like a slow infection.

Johnny rubbed her back as he held her. He noticed her silence and gripped her chin, angling her head up to look into her eyes. He studied her for a bit before speaking, “Why you bein' so quiet?”

Her eyes widened a bit at his words, not expecting him to even notice. "I'm not...I'm just thinkin'..." she mumbled, leaning her head back into his chest. His chest was broad and hard. Yet, she found comfort in it.

"Thinkin' huh..." he let out a huff, placing one of his large hands on the back of her head, almost cradling her. "Why don't we get a motel room tonight? I don't think my back can handle sleepin' in this truck again" he let out an exaggerated groan as he rubbed his his shoulder.

She appreciated that he didn't pry into her feelings. She wasn't sure she could handle that right now. She let out a small laugh and nodded "That sounds nice"

Living with Johnny was...difficult. If you could call passing through cheap motels living with a person. Johnny was becoming increasingly controlling and harsh. Almost like a veil was lifted off of him once they spent more time together. She thought she knew him, as well as you could know a man who picked you up off the side of the road.

He leaned back against the headboard of the cheap mattress in their more recent motel room, smoking a cigarette. The sheets were an obnoxious faded orange. It paired nicely with the peeling yellow wallpaper. The place made her feel sick. She leaned against the open window, peering out, studying each passing car. The smoke was giving her a headache.

"C'mere" his voice was gruff, raspy. She sighed and leaned her head onto the cool glass. "I'm getting a headache, I just wanna stand here" she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

She heard him get up quickly, she didn't have much time to react before his hand found its way around her neck. "I said c'mere" he growled out, pulling her against him. She squeezed her eyes shut and coughed slightly. "Johnny, cut it out!"

He laughed at this licking his lips. "'Cut it out' really?" he scoffed and threw her down on the bed. She quickly sat up, trying to regain some control. "You need to listen to me darlin', you're my girl right?" He stood in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs, and he bent down to meet her eye level.

"You..." she sighed "You can't keep treating me like this...bossin' me around..." she shifted her gaze to the side, avoiding his narrowed eyes. "Oh yeah?" he snickered and pulled her thighs apart more.

"Or what? You gonna leave?" He grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks together so she was looking directly at him. "And go where, baby? Back walkin' all by yourself, half-starving? Ya know you never told me why you were all by yourself" she whimpered and tried to shake his hand off her face.

"Your my girl, right?" He glared at her and released her face. Her hand cupped her face, rubbing the now inflamed skin. Tears started running down her face. "I'm yours...Johnny" she cried and hiccupped, covering her face with both of her hands.

His glare faded as he watched her cry. "Hey...c'mon..." he sat down next to her and placed her in his lap. He laid her head on his chest and rubbed her back as she sobbed into her chest. "You know I hate when you cry, darlin'" he rocked her gently as she sobbed.

A while passed, she was still curled up in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Smoking another cigarette. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, avoiding the smell.

His hand rubbed up and down her thigh. His lips found their way to the side of her face. Her cheeks were still red from the force of his grip. His kisses stung.

He let out a low hum as his hands traveled up her shirt. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts, it was ripped and fraying at the edges. His calloused hands squeezed at her breast, his fingers tugging at her hardening nipple.

She whined at the contact and looked up at him. He was smirking down at her, his eyes dark and determined. "You feelin' better?" he asked his hands pushing up her shirt, exposing her breasts to the cool air. She gave a slight nod.

"Good, I think you should make it up to me. Ya know for bein' difficult" he hummed out, slipping the t-shirt over her head. She shrugged a bit, tracing shapes with her finger onto his bare chest. "Speak up" he said while he continued to rub her breasts.

"I didn't mean to be difficult..." her words trailed off, her eyes shut at the continued attention to her breasts. "I just think after all I do for ya, you can help me out hm?" he hummed out. She could feel his hardening cock through his pants. She gave him another shrug.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he easily lifted her up, laying her down on her stomach. "Ass up" he said, giving her rear a rough pat. Like she was on autopilot she lifted her ass in the air, her face on the faded motel sheets. He slowly pulled down her shorts, savoring her vulnerable position.

"Phew darlin', you're leakin'" his fingers brush against her cunt, giving it a small pat. "Good enough to eat" he snickered and bent down, both of his hands spreading apart her pussy. He gave her cunt a single lick from top to bottom. This caused her to moan louder than she expected. He smirked wide at this reaction.

"I'd love to eat this pussy, darlin' but I'm hurtin'" he said unbuckling his belt, pulling out his hard cock with a hiss. Her face was still buried into the sheets as she reached back, trying to hold his hand. He grabbed her hands and put them behind her back, using one of his hands to hold them together. Without much warning, he pushed into her.

Her eyes widened, she found that she could never get used to his sheer size. He never gave her time to anyway. She wiggled her fingers as he held them behind her back, trying to signal that she wanted to touch him, he didn't even notice.

His thrusts were at a brutal pace, his right hand kept her hands in place behind her back, while his left slapped her ass periodically. Her moans were louder, she wasn't used to this position, he was hitting her deeper than ever before. Then, they both heard pounding on the wall to their left. "Quiet down perverts!" she heard a woman yell as she hit on the wall, she must have been in the room next to them.

Johnny snickered, this made him increase his pace. "Hear that baby? Everyone can hear what a slut you are ha" he was out of breath, his voice raspy. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, humiliation filling her stomach.

Then, she felt him almost completely stop, he pulled out of her. Just when she was about to look back and see what was wrong, he thrust into her again. Causing a muted scream to exit her lips. She buried her face completely into the sheets, wanting to make as little noise as possible, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“No no baby, I wanna hear your” he grabbed her head and lifted her face up “Let me hear you” he said as his pace quickened. She whined out and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled at this and gave her a fake pout “What? Is my girl embarrassed?”

He pulled out of her and flipped her over. “Cant hide that pretty face now can ya?” He leaned down and kissed her neck as he plunged back into her. Her back arched, pushing him even deeper into her soaking cunt.

He didn’t let up on his thrusts, his eyes focused on her face, noting every expression she made. His brows furrowed as he came close to the edge. “Fuck you’re tight” he groaned out tipping his head back.

She couldn’t help but to admire how handsome he looked. His bare chest sweaty and his hair falling into his face. Her eyes were wide with awe as she tried to memorize how he looked like this.

He gazed down at her and noticed her staring. He chuckled sheepishly and leaned down kissing her. “I’m so close, baby” he mumbled as they kissed. “You gonna cum with me darlin’, you gonna be my good girl?” He asked, his forehead resting against hers. She nodded quickly, desperate to please him.

He smirked and lifted her legs up over his shoulders, locking his arms around her knees. His head lay against her legs as he drilled into her.

She felt the familiar warm pulsing in her lower stomach. She shook as she let out one final moan, her back arching a bit off the bed. He wasn’t too far behind her as he let a small moan slip, pumping her full of his cum. “Shit!” He groaned tipping his head back.

They stayed like that for awhile, his softening cock still inside her, not letting any of the cum spill free. He finally pulled out, she let out a small whine at the sensation. Her eyes locked onto his.

He just stared at her for a while, his hands rubbing the side of her thighs. He gave her one last kiss before he got up to go shower, leaving her there on the bed.

She lay in bed as she heard the shower run, her legs were sore. Her heart felt sore too. After a while, he came out of the steamy bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair dripping wet. He walked up to the bed and dropped the towel, climbing in beside her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She buried her head in his chest and closed her eyes; trying to ignore his hardening cock against her thigh.

She was sitting quietly in his truck as he pumped gas. He was reading some newspaper as he waited, intently reading the pages, almost like he was looking for something.

After awhile of waiting he opened the passenger side door and smirked at her, handing her a snickers bar. Her eyes lit up a bit as she smiled at him. "Thanks Johnny! These are my favorite" he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. "I know" he said before shutting the door.

He hopped into the driver's side door and set the newspaper to his side. She looked over and read the headline; "ANOTHER BODY FOUND, POLICE SEARCH CONTINUES" her brow furrowed and she looked back up at him. He was started the car and began driving down the road.

"Ya know darlin', I have to admit. I've been feelin' a bit homesick" he explained looking over at her, his hand finding its way to her thigh. "We've been travelin' together for a while...would you want to visit home with me?" he said 'home' as if she lived there her entire life too. Honestly, she was eager to take the next step with him. Meeting his family would be great, she wanted to make him happy after all.

She held his hand that rested on her thigh, she nodded and gave him another smile. "If that's what you want"

He hesitated a second before nodding "Yeah...that's what I want"

#johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #tcm #smut #johnny slaughter smut #johnny tcm game #bitterpotionnfics

202 notes · View notes

asolareclipses · 18 days

Text

(Previous Part)

Taking a bus halfway across Maine was not on Nicos bucket list. Yet, there he was in a stuffy bus that looked, and smelled, like it had been made back in the 20’s—which Nico would know, he was there. Next to him Leo sat anything but still, his fingers drumming against the arm rests and occasionally grabbing things from his tool belt to tinker with. Sometimes he looked like a toddler hyped up on too much sugar. His constant movement comforted Nico though, it was a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Of course he was still mad at Leo for ruining his genius plan to face a goddess alone, or at least he was trying to convince himself he was mad.

“Dude, this bus needs so much work.” Leo said, as he held up his freshly made penguin that consisted of various screws. “I’m not sure how they got it to last this long, it’s like beyond messed up.”

“Probably why the tickets were so cheap,” Nico replied as he watched the screw penguin’s head bobble around.

“I give it about an hour before it breaks down,” Leo suddenly paused, titling his head as if he were hearing something. “Scratch that she’s going down now.”

As soon as he said that the bus sputtered, losing speed as the driver pulled over to the side of the road.

“Sorry everyone, we seem to be having some problems.” The bus driver grumpily announced, he acted as if this were a regular occasion.

“It’s my time to shine,” Leo grinned as he stood up from the seat. “Don’t worry mortals, Leo’s got this all under control.”

“Please ignore him,” Nico gave the few confused passengers a smile as he pushed Leo towards the door. “You can just call people mortals.”

“Oops,” Leo shrugged as he hopped down from the last bus step onto the pavement. “Anyways let’s see what’s up with this bad boy.”

Nico rolled his eyes as Leo popped open the hood of the bus to reveal the engine. The driver appeared shocked, as Leo shouldn’t have been able to just open it without releasing the latch.

“Hey kid, what do you think you’re doing?” The driver called out as he slowly made his way out of the bus.

“Just fixing up some stuff, don’t mind me.” Leo didn’t even look up as he pulled some tools out of his belt.

Nico was about to try and mediate the situation when he realized something was wrong. Back in the bus he hadn’t noticed it due to the overpowering musk of age, but the driver was most definitely a monster.

By the change of expression on the drivers face, Nico saw that he too realized they weren’t just regular mortals. Leo was, of course, oblivious to this.

“Looks like I have a rat problem,” The bus driver snarled in their direction.

“Nope, not rats, just a really rusted battery.” Leo offhandedly replied.

“Leo, he’s not talking about the bus.” Nico nudged him, as the mist around the driver began to evaporate, morphing his two eyes into one.

“Then what is he-holy smokes!” Leo dropped his wrench in surprise as he saw the undercover cyclopes be revealed.

“Should’ve known you demigods would’ve snuck in here sooner or later,” The driver clenched his bulky fists as if preparing himself to attack.

Nico scanned the area for any makeshift weapon, he was really regretting leaving his sword behind.

“Hey buddy,” Leo raised his hands in attempt to reason, “I’ll fix your bus for free, how about you don’t kill us?”

“Killing you is much better than driving this piece of junk,” His eye was focused on Nico as he spoke. “Especially you, you reek of the underworld.”

“And you reek of spoiled eggs,” Nico snapped back, “at least I have an excuse, what’s yours?”

The cyclopes didn’t like that, which was made apparent by him grabbing a chunk of dirt and lobbing it towards them.

“Hit the deck!” Leo called, which didn’t really apply to them as there was no ‘deck’ but Nico didn’t point that out. Instead, he dropped to the floor as the piece of earth sailed past their heads.

“Leo, does your tool belt supply weapons?” Nico asked while the cyclopes reloaded on dirt.

Leo rummaged for a moment before pulling out a weird hatchet-hammer tool, which later Nico found out was a drywall hammer. “How’s this?”

“Good enough,” Nico said as he grabbed the hammer thing.

Another mound of dirt flew towards them but it was blasted to dust when Leo shot a ball of fire towards it. “Take that dirt boy!” He screamed.

Using Leo as a distraction Nico bolted off to the side, running around the bus so that he ended up behind the cyclopes. Unfortunately the cyclopes seemed to have predicted this as he quickly spun around, his arm slamming into Nico resulting in him being thrown into the side of the bus.

Before the cyclopes could do anymore damage Leo screamed, “Take this dirt face!” Then a wrench bounced off the back of the cyclopes’s head.

A flash of rage appeared on the cyclopes’s face as he turned towards Leo, grabbing an extra large chunk of dirt. “Oh you’re going to regret that.”

“I am?” Leo asked with a grin.

The cyclopes had forgotten about Nico leaving him the perfect opportunity, “I will crush you-” The cyclopes stopped mid sentence as Nico stabbed the hatchet into his back. Then with a look of shock, he erupted into dust.

“Nice!” Leo called out.

“Yeah..” Nico winced as he looked down at his arm, the bandages had been soaked through with blood after the hard hit he took.

“Dude, ouch.” Leo’s smile dropped as his eyes moved over the once white gauze.

“It’s fine,” Nico sighed looking back towards the bus, “more importantly. What are we going to do now?”

Leo seemed to realize they were now faced with a bus full of angry commuters, with no bus driver, and still had about 150 miles to go. “Right, looks like we’re taking a ride on the Leo express!”

—

Leo knew how to drive, mostly.

While he’d never taken the time to get an official license, he knew machines better than anyone. A bus was certainly easier to handle than a giant flying ship.

Fixing the engine was also a piece of cake.

The difficult part was the passengers, turns out they weren’t thrilled by the sudden staff change.

“There’s no way we can just let a 15 year old drive!”

“Hey!” Leo snapped at the lady who looked like she was about to demand to speak to his supervisor. “I’ll have you know i’m 18!”

“Do you even have a license?”

“Now now, everyone calm down. Listen, i’m a trained professional.” Leo shrugged with his palms up, “I mean, do you want to stay on the side of the road forever?”

The bus went quiet with defeat.

“Right, well then sit down, get comfortable, because the Leo train is leaving the station!” Leo didn’t get the cheers and applause he expected from that statement, just a few groans and unpleasant mutters.

Soon, the bus was driving smoothly across the roads and Leo barely had to pay attention as he’d fixed up a temporary autopilot gadget. Beside him, Nico winced as he removed the bandages from his scratches. Somehow the wound looked worse.

“Dude, that looks really bad,” Leo frowned as he pulled out more bandages from his tool belt.

“It’s fine,” Nico mumbled, not even looking up at Leo.

“Yeah you keep saying that but I’ve yet to start believing it.”

Nico wrapped the bandages carefully around his arm, gritting his teeth as he tried to hide the pain. “It’s just a scratch, i’ve seen worse.”

That didn’t comfort Leo, in fact in made him feel worse. Of course, it’s only expected that a demigod face some pretty rough injuries here and there—Leo himself had seen quite a few. But Nico’s insistence on ignoring his pain made Leo worried that if it were to be serious, he’d never know.

Despite that, he knew arguing would just make Nico more annoyed, so he tried to liven up the atmosphere. “You know, if we were in an episode of the Magic School Bus right now you’d be Arnold.”

“What the Hades is the Magic School Bus?” Nico looked at Leo as if he were crazy.

Leo threw his head back in exasperation, “You’ve got to be joking! You don’t know the Frizz?”

“The what?”

“That’s it, i’m making a list of all the things you need to watch when we get back to camp.”

“Whatever,” Nico rolled his eyes, “as long as you don’t put Twilight on there i’m happy.”

“Hold up, Twilight?” Leo tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“Yeah, Will told me it was iconic, or whatever.” Nico paused as if remembering something unpleasant, “If iconic means torturous, then it surely was.”

Leo burst into laughter at the thought of Nico actually watching Twilight, “Dont worry, we will not be watching any vampire shows.”

The rest of the ride was spent with Leo determining what things Nico had and hadn’t watched. Turns out Will had caught him up on quite a lot, but Leo still developed a lengthy list of things he would bless Nico with. In a way Nico’s unawareness of modern culture reminded him of Jason, due to his upbringing by wolves he was a bit out of the loop when it came to many popular things. Leo figured he’d do a “modern culture” class at camp, maybe invite Hazel. The idea made him smile, it was something to look forward to.

Eventually, they made it to the bus station, where he and Nico quickly snuck away to avoid suspicion. To their luck no one at the station had realized what happened until they were long gone.

Not to their luck, they still had a five mile walk ahead of them.

They spent a large part of the walk in silence, as it was hard to focus on anything other than the heat. Eventually, Leo got bored and tried to think about anything else, his mind wandering back to their previous conversation.

“I’m really wishing I had a magic school bus right about now,” Leo whined as he trudged forward. The warm air was now unpleasant as the sun beamed down upon him.

“And i’m really wishing I left you back at camp.”

“Hey!” Leo glared at Nico who bit back a smile, “You’re lucky! I blessed you with my company.”

Nico scoffed, “Right, blessed, that’s the word I was looking for.”

“Why does this place have to be out in the middle of nowhere?” Leo asked as he peered into the distance in hopes of seeing the outline of the school.

“Guess they didn’t want any kids running off,” Nico shrugged. “Honestly I don’t remember much about it, I was only there for like a year?” He seemed to think about it for a moment before giving up.

“That was after the casino?” Leo asked, he decided to take this as a chance to ask more about Nico’s past. It was the one topic Nico avoided, or maybe Leo was the one who avoided it, after all he knew how much old memories could hurt.

“Yeah, time felt so messed up back then. I mean it was like seventy years? But then suddenly i’m in the 20th century at some school in a state i’d never heard of before.” Nico sighed, “Not sure how I wasn’t more confused, it just felt normal, or whatever I thought normal was.”

Leo nodded, he was afraid to speak, careful to not scare Nico away.

“You don’t have to be so on edge,” Nico turned to look at him, almost as if he’d read his mind.

“I’m not...” Leo paused, “It’s just you’ve never talked in depth about this stuff with me before.”

“Yeah, I hadn’t talked about it with anyone until Will. But Mr. D says ‘talking is good,’ so might as well take his advice for once.”

The idea of Mr. D being a therapist threw Leo for a loop but he didn’t say anything about it, “Yeah, I guess I never really told anyone about all my stuff until Jason.”

Nico suddenly smirked, “You too seem pretty close.”

Leo’s face flushed red as he avoided Nico’s eyes, “What? No-I mean, of course we’re close, we’re best friends. Totally platonic best friends.”

“Right, and I totally believe you.” Nico rolled his eyes with a grin. There was a peaceful silence for a split second before Nico’s smile faded. Now, in the distance the outline of a large school could be seen.

Nico sighed, a hesitant look flashing across his face before he spoke, “We’re here. Welcome to Westover.”

Part Six

64 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 10 months

Text

Big-engined, long-wheelbase sedans are the foundation that this civilization used to be constructed upon. You could throw the entire family into the car, drive across the country, and bear witness to the greatest things we offered. On your trip, you’d see other sedans: nicer ones, and less nice ones, and ones about the same level of niceness as yours. Things were great back then.

You could still get a bigger sedan. A really big one. That way, you’d know that you were more important than the other sedan owners. Even today, movies use these vehicles (no longer made for decades!) to represent that a character is incomprehensibly rich. They stand out. There was just one problem: automakers needed more margin. What if they could take a nice cheap truck, and then sell that truck to regular people, and charge a little (or a lot) extra to make that truck more tolerable for long-distance driving?

Now, everyone tools around in too-high sports-utility vehicles with huge wheels. That sense of proletarian community has been replaced by a level of paranoia that used to only be witnessed in tank commanders. They’re out to get you, the advertisers said: bad roads. Dirt roads. Mud. Snow. Other cars on the road. Carjackers. You’re better than them. You should get a bigger car, and then you can really fuck them up.

This line of advertising worked great, because it also presided over a time where the social contract was being torn up in a million different ways. Advertisers aren’t stupid: they know exactly what you’re panicked about, and they’ll reach in and sell you the cure to it. Or at least, whatever they have to sell, marketed as said cure. Sports utility vehicles flourished on our highways.

Personally, I’m going to resist this for as long as possible, and not just because even used 20-year-old SUVs cost more than I paid for my last bail. Like every cultural warrior whose time has passed, I want to hold onto the imagined zenith of our way of life, positive til my last breath that one day humanity will see the light and return home. All they have to do is see my shitty Belvedere, and the column of blue exhaust that it leaves behind on even moderate throttle pressure, and know in their bones: there was a better way.

173 notes · View notes

az-cain · 1 year

Text

Bruised Thighs/Flowery Sheets

rhett abbott x reader ≈ 3300 words

TUMBLR ATE THE ASK DAMMIT, i am so so sorry anon, but it said:

If you're taking requests...sub!Rhett needing help to clear out his mind after having a rough ride and he can't stop the self-doubt. Poor boy just needs to be fucked so good his brain stops functioning 😈

this is pure filth! i love it. so fun to write. thank you to @girl-in-the-chairs-void for encouraging me and my terrible thoughts lmao, i wouldn’t have picked it back up today were it not for you.

TW FOR: description of bruises and hard landings, mild angst, brief mention of shitty fathers and poor body image, food and a poor relationship with it (ice cream), mild dacryphilia (crying kink), spanking, oral sex m&f!receiving, anal fingering m!receiving, pegging, dumbification, pet names (honey, baby, good boy, sweetie, darlin’)

Rhett’s thighs always hurt after a ride. The bull’s bucking consistently left his legs black and blue, so he’d grown accustomed to the pain. What he hadn’t grown accustomed to, however, was the sting of his forearms smacking the dirt on a bad dismount. The gravel dug in even through the thick shirt he wore, and the disappointment pierced through his skin beside it. As he scrambled away from the raging bull and into the pen, he sighed heavily, wearily, looking at the time. Five seconds. He hadn’t even made it ¾ of where he needed to be.

As he passed by his father, who clapped him on the back with a lightly-disguised look of displeasure and murmured common words of reassurance, he struggled to smile gratefully. He’d had an off day, he knew that was all. It was only a qualifier, so he wasn’t out of the game. Still, the stinging anger that rested behind his eyes refused to subside until he saw you.

You had his red flannel unbuttoned across your chest and your sports bra exposed to the wind, the summer night heat beating down on the whole stadium. Your jean shorts were just long enough to be decent, and the smile you gave him was anything but. His worries melted away, now just residing in his mind as a quiet nagging voice.

“Hey, baby,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around him eagerly and letting him bury his sweaty forehead in your equally sweaty neck. “How are you feeling after that dismount?”

He pulled back and tried to smile, lips quivering slightly, but ultimately shook his head in resignation. “Not great.”

You rubbed up and down his upper arms, meeting his eyes with a sad smile. “I know. You want to go get ice cream?”

He nodded with a sniffle, feeling like a child. He knew, though, that you only wanted to cheer him up. So, as you led him to his truck and pulled his keys out of your pocket to unlock it, he straightened his back and tried to push his bad thoughts from his mind.

Did it work? Not entirely.

As you shifted into drive, he clicked his seatbelt into place and felt you set your hand on his knee. You rubbed comforting circles on the soft skin and hummed along to the pop song filtering through the stifling summer air, made more tolerable by the blasting A/C and the open windows. He was struck, silently, by how much he loved you, and it gave him pause. Your hand on his knee calmed him significantly, almost enough to make him stop thinking about his off day.

As you pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru, you moved your hand back to the steering wheel. “Same as always?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled gently, so entirely enamored with you.

He listened to you order for the two of you, the crackling response that was nearly inaudible, and your loud “thank you.” As you waited in the drive-thru line, you cranked up the radio and plugged in the classic rock cassette he’d recorded for you, much to your amusement.

A number of sleazy songs played loudly across his cheap, 20-year-old speakers, and as you sang— or belted, rather— the lyrics, he couldn’t find it in him to care that the two of you were being the annoying drive-thru patrons everyone despised. The pencil you’d found to use as a microphone was dropped into the cupholder as you lowered the volume and met the teenager’s extended hand with a thank you, collecting the two cups of ice cream that you handed to him. He took small spoonfuls of the stuff as you drove home, the negative thoughts seeping back in in the form of body image. He wondered if he’d have gotten a better time today if he didn’t eat so much ice cream.

Of course, he knew that these thoughts were silly, so he did his best to put them out of his mind as you pulled into the driveway of your home and helped him out of the car, offering yourself as a brace for his bruised thighs and stinging forearms.

You entered the house together, settled on the dark couch and ate silently with one another, content to simply be in each others’ presence. When you’d both finished, you took his cup and ventured into the kitchen to throw both away before returning to your seat. At your gesture, he laid his head upon your thigh and let your hands come to rest in his hair. You sat there, running your fingers through his long hair for minutes, until you began to want more.

You tugged lightly on it, just testing the waters, and Rhett keened, whimpering through the muffling of his palm. “Please,” he whined quietly. A faint smile split your cheeks and you hummed, continuing to scratch his scalp like you’d never pulled on it. “Want you,” he continued, turning to meet your eyes and lifting his hips off of the soft couch to try and find friction against his jeans.

Chuckling softly at his neediness, you nodded. “Okay, honey. Let’s go to the bedroom.” With that, you patted his shoulder to make him move, and stood up behind him. When he moved slowly because of his sore thighs, you smacked his ass. A loud groan ripped through him— and through you— as you said “C’mon, baby.”

He started walking faster, your legs keeping easy pace, and made it into the bedroom quickly. He turned around and grabbed for you, pressing his lips to yours eagerly.

“Need you, please,” he whined again, to which you pressed your lips against his harder, biting at his bottom lip and swiping your tongue against his. His desperation only served to turn you on, lightning ripping through your lower abdomen.

You pressed one more harsh kiss against his lips before you squeezed his ass and commanded, “Strip.”

Ever obedient, he reached to tug off his tight t-shirt as you took a step backwards. He shed the rest of his clothes quickly, his boots slipping off of his feet with ease, jeans and boxers falling to the carpet with the quiet whoosh of denim against skin. You watched eagerly as his cock, red and swollen, smacked against his milky-white thigh; you listened as he whimpered from the small amount of contact. You felt yourself clench with excitement as his hand twitched towards it, but you met his eyes and shook your head solemnly. He pursed his lips, breathing heavily, and nodded quickly in return.

“Good boy,” you crooned, approaching him again. One of your fingers traced along the ridge of his cock, a hum breaking from your chest as he bucked against you with a cry. “Stay still for me, sweetie. I’ll give you what you need.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The words were quiet, but the obedience warranted some kind of reward; noting this, you kissed down his neck, to his torso, to his Adonis belt, to the base of his cock, all the while slipping to your knees before him.

His breathing sped up, bruised thighs clenching and unclenching as he struggled to stay still for you. “Good boy,” you said, kissing along the tops of his thighs gently, working ever closer with each kiss.

Finally, reaching the wiry hair at the top of his cock, you looked up to meet his eyes. His eyes were foggy, lust-addled and exhausted, but when he met yours, you saw them warm up slightly with adoration.

You held that eye contact as you kissed down his length, gently taking the tip into your mouth and suckling lightly. A wail broke from his lips as he doubled over, hands balling up into fists with concentration. “Please, please, oh god—” Rhett breathed the words quietly, just loud enough to be heard over your own breaths.

The resolve to be good for you made you moan around him, your thighs pressing together to find some sort of friction. Your mouth popped off of his tip with a pleased hum. “Use your words, baby.”

He struggled to meet your eyes, his pretty blues looking straight through you for a moment before you snapped your fingers to catch his attention. He focused in on you, just barely, and you raised your brows. “Words, darlin’.”

He nodded absentmindedly, trying to gather his thoughts. “Please, oh— please suck me off— or— or fuck me, please,” he stuttered out, breaths coming quickly as he tried to process what he was asking for.

You closed your hand around one of his ass cheeks, avoiding the tender bruises. In response, you got a broken moan and a few senseless words of thanks. “Good boy, thank you for telling me what you need. Let me take care of you, sweet thing.”

Finally, you opened your mouth and let his dick fall onto your tongue, drool sliding down the length of it. You used your spare hand to collect the moisture, stroking it from where it fell from your mouth to the base of his cock. He sobbed above you quietly, eyes still fogged when you look up. The wiry hair scratched at your hand as you held his base tightly, allowing yourself to take him into your throat carefully, but not wanting him to let go just yet. It was a struggle not to gag, as it always was, because his cock filled your throat with so pleasant an ache. Still pushing your thighs together, you shifted your weight slowly to try and find some relief against your clit, moaning harshly around him when you succeeded, punching a groan out of him at the vibrations.

The hand that remained on his ass started to squeeze again, working its way between his cheeks. You sunk your middle finger in, searching for his rim. Finding it rather quickly, you reveled in the loud, strangled noises he made as you circled it with some pressure. He begged and pleaded for more nearly incoherently. “Oh god, please, oh my god,” was most of what you pieced together. Not deigning to pull off of him to respond, tongue and mouth still working around him, you pushed those two fingers in gently, more harsh crows tearing from his chest.

Distantly, you mourned the fact that you wouldn’t get to take him down your throat entirely, needing to keep that hand there for his sake. But still, you were having your fun and getting off on just this, your spit dripping down his cock and onto your wrist, and the middle finger from your other hand teasing lightly around his most sensitive spot. He was sobbing above you, hands balled into fists as he approached the edge but couldn’t quite reach it.

Quiet whines, praises, and pleas left his throat, high-pitched and needy; putty in your hands. Your jaw had begun to ache rather quickly, the sheer girth of him making the fun short-lived. So, pulling back and standing up, you told him to get on the bed. You tore your own shirt and pants off of your body, needing your overheated skin exposed to the air.

Rhett had laid down face-up, just how you’d wanted. Walking up to him, you slipped a finger between your thighs to show him just how slick you were. You were positively aching: throbs of pleasure were radiating through your hips with every step you took, the sight of his cock twitching against him and the sound of his whimpers only exacerbating the issue.

When you reached the bed, you climbed up onto him to straddle his face, his eyes following your pussy eagerly. “Oh fuck,” he whined, hips canting off the bed with desire, before you wrapped a hand around the base of his cock again, He panted below you, breaths completely erratic as you settled down onto him. Your hand tangled in his hair, balancing you directly over his open mouth as you kept a tight clutch on his dick. Licking eagerly into you, Rhett pushed his hips down to try and keep from thrusting into your fist. As a reward and in order to satisfy that ache, you ground down against him. His nose caught your clit, and you groaned a guttural sound that sounded like you were being torn in two. Again, and again, his nose caught your clit, and you felt that tightness ratchet higher and higher within you. After one more good grind down against his open mouth, his tongue trying to work its way inside of you, you let go, collapsing forward as you let his cock go, one hand clutching tightly into his hair and the other against the headboard. Shocks wracked your body, moans leaving your mouth entangled with expletives in a stream. You sat atop him for a few more moments, still clenching lightly as you tried to gather yourself.

When you finally felt that you’d recovered, you dismounted his face with one more grind and strutted to the bathroom to get the strap-on, sure to sway your hips for the boy watching. You pulled it and the lube from the cabinet you kept it in and rinsed it thoroughly, removing any dust that may have settled since you last used it— purely a precaution, but you were nothing if not thorough. Having shook most of the water off and slid the harness and vibrating dildo on, you shut the bathroom light off and emerged to find Rhett face-down on the bed, knees spread below him and hands clutching the sheets beside his head.

“Oh, darlin’, you’re so smart. Just what I wanted to see,” you crooned, one hand coming up to smack the unbruised part of his ass as you approached the bed. He rocked forward with the impact, arching his back towards you as he cried out.

You popped the cap of your water-based lube and slicked your fingers, warming them up for a moment before tracing circles around his asshole and slipping two fingers into him. With a loud moan, he pressed back against you, ignoring your command to stay still for the first time that night.

Smacking him lightly again, you scoffed lightheartedly. “Already fucked stupid? Stay still, baby.”

He nodded, sobbing muffled apologies into his pillowcase as you worked another finger in. Taking his sobs as a good enough apology, you grabbed for the base of him again and pressed gently at his prostate. He wailed into the pillowcase, his head flying back and forth as he struggled to keep still for you.

When you pulled your fingers back, he settled down a little, just enough to catch his breath. Moving up enough to level your hips with his, you smiled down at the sight of his farmer’s tan-striped back arched against your flowery sheets, the perfect composition of beauty, before you pressed the head of the silicone cock into his ass.

Slipping past his rim, you continued to slide in slowly, letting him adjust to the width of the toy splitting him. You didn’t use this one often, usually opting for the thinner pink one, but you really wanted to fuck the brains out of him tonight. It seemed that this toy was the right choice for that objective, because he was babbling mindlessly into the pillow, drool seeping from the corner of his mouth.

With a smile, you pulled your hips back, then slammed into him with all of your might, sure to angle your hips down. He screamed into the pillow, hands fisting the sheets as he let go, streaks of come spurting onto the bed as he shook like a leaf. “Fuck!” You heard, the first intelligible word you’d gotten in minutes. He rocked back against you and continued his babbling, still recovering from his last orgasm but wanting more.

With a smile, you continued to rock into him slowly, stroking up and down his back with a nail for a few minutes to allow him to recover. When his breathing seemed to return to a steady pace and his hands had returned to an open position, you reached down to flip on the vibrator, the harness resting against your clit perfectly.

He jumped at the sudden change, but quickly melted again with a moan when he realized what happened. “Oh my god…” he sighed, hands balling into fists once more. You rocked into him slowly, testing the waters, before slamming your hips against his ass and setting a grueling pace.

The vibrator allowed you to find pleasure, steadily building both of you up as you whispered praises to the cowboy underneath your hands. You ran your palms along his ass, squeezing occasionally to get a garbled moan out of him.

Angling your hips down, you set yourself to getting him off at the same time as you, because you felt yourself rapidly approaching that peak. “C’mon, baby, I know you can do it,” you murmured half to yourself and half to him as you nailed his prostate. He rubbed his face into the pillow at the thrusts, trying desperately to muffle his desperate sounds.

You leaned back and wrapped your hand tightly around his cock, throbs resonating through your hips as you tried to hold on. Just as you were about to give up and let go, he wailed into the pillow and thrust his hips into your palm, hot, sticky ropes of come falling onto the bed. Content, you thrust into him one more time to rub your clit harshly along that bump in your harness, letting go with a cry of your own and grinding your hips against his as you rode it out. The waves died down, your walls still clenching lightly as you pulled off of him and discarded your harness in the bathroom sink. You grabbed a towel and ran warm water over it and wiped yourself down before repeating the process and bringing the cloth to the bedroom.

He murmured your name, reaching back to stroke your hair when you bent over his back to kiss his neck. “Roll over, baby,” you murmured against his skin. With a groan, he obeyed you, his eyes cracking open to meet your own.

You tenderly wiped his thighs and ass, wary of his hiss of discomfort, meeting his eyes again and only continuing at his nod. You folded the cloth to swipe quickly at his sweaty armpits and chest before you tugged him out of the bed, throwing the blankets (that had luckily been at the foot of the bed) to the floor, stripping the sheets, and removing the bed cover. You turned to tread to the linen closet to grab the extra sheets, turning over your shoulder to see him behind you, butt-naked and tired, coming to help you.

You waited for him to catch up and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, continuing to walk to the closet and collecting the sheets. After you’d returned to the bedroom, you struggled to put the fitted sheet on together, threw the flat sheet on top, and reassembled your bed set.

Utterly tired, you collapsed into bed together, your head lying on his chest and feet curled behind you. You turned to press a kiss to his bare chest, eyes closed, and whispered against his skin, “I love you, Rhett.”

He pressed a big, scar-mottled, and calloused hand to your hair and bent to kiss your head: you felt the rumble in his own chest and the swell in your own when he opened his mouth and got nothing coherent out, his “I love you too” sounding more like an “Aluh’y’t…”

#rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbot x female reader #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott pegging #sub!rhett abbott #sub rhett abbott #rhett abbott #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #outer range smut #az writes

161 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 2 years

Note

Hey! I'm not sure if requests are open, but I would like to ask a picture where Darling lives alone and a ghost/shadow creature always watches her and ends up becoming passionate/obsessed and Darling gets to see him and isn't afraid, in fact she talks to him and the two even sleep together when Darling feels lonely or afraid of something else. Thanks!!

No compliant darlings on this blog, but yes to the ghost. Thanks for requesting!

Slight Lemon warning!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

“I swear.”

Taking a deep breath, your roommate slowly let it out, keeping up your serious gaze. Contemplating their reply, they lifted the glass of orange juice to their lips, sipping it as they thought. They were hardly impressed by your little presentation but felt restless. “Let’s assume for a moment there is a... presence.”

“Eli!” Their name was a whispered groan as they still didn’t seem to understand the severity of the situation. However, Eli lifted their hand, silencing you as they weren’t finished.

“I’m sorry, but we only just signed the lease. I don’t think they would let us out of it because of paranormal activity.” They made some awkward wiggles as they clearly were making fun of you, and you felt your heart sink. It was disheartening to see your best friend joking and demeaning your problems. If anyone should have believed you, it should have been Eli! No matter how silly the situation was, 20 years of friendship should have counted for something!

They watched as your expression changed, frustration and anger crossing over it as you put your head in your palms, leaning on the kitchen counter. This apartment had been a dream for you two, completely furnished and dirt cheap in the center of your city. It was close to everything - groceries, public transportation, college - and aside from the occasional bird at your windowsill, there was nothing to complain about. Almost.

“Hey, I know, I really do,” Eli tried to sound sympathetic even though you knew they didn’t believe your crazy story, rounding the counter to comfort you. Their hand rubbing over your back, you felt close to tears for the first time in a long while, but not the kind that Eli expected.

“Everything’s still new, and we are so far away from home. I feel the same way, really. But what you’re experiencing... look, you’re just tired. You’ve got so much on your plate at the moment. There’s nothing in your room; you’re imagining things.”

You felt like gripping their shoulders tightly, shaking them as the frustration kept boiling inside you. It was true that you only just moved into this apartment, far away from your hometown and your family, and that you’ve been working hard to keep up with your studies and work. But you had expected more from your best friend since kindergarten.

“Look, if it helps, we can go and find some... voodoo, spiritual shop this weekend and smoke out the whole apartment, okay? I’m sure that we can get rid of... of...”

“The ghost,” you finished their sentence. Snappily, since they refused to address the thing they believed didn’t exist directly.

“Right. Ghost. This is our dream apartment, and we’re not letting some ghost-butt kick us out! But it’s best if you go and catch up on some sleep, you have an early day tomorrow, okay? I’m sure no one will wake you up tonight, or else just scream, and I’ll come running!”

With a few condoling pats on the back, Eli took their glass with them as they walked back to their room, closing the door behind them. However, the walls weren’t thick enough to muffle the sigh you heard them make once they thought to be in the safety of their own room.

They were right, of course, that this was your dream apartment, perfect in any way. Yet, you felt so defeated; crushed that even the person closest to you wouldn’t believe you. Let down and left to your own devices, having no choice but to go back to your room, though you contemplated sleeping in the bathtub that night. Still, you’d need to at least grab a blanket and a pillow if you wanted any sleep at all.

So you had to face him. Your nightmare.

The moment you stepped into your room, you squeezed your eyes shut tight and turned around, facing the door that you closed slowly. You didn’t want to be alone inside your haunted bedroom, but you especially didn’t want to see the ghost you had encountered creeping around your bed at night and roaming the shadows. At the same time, you wished Eli was right, and you were just tired and hallucinating, and that, any second now, you’d open your eyes, and nothing would be out of the ordinary.

“See, they didn’t believe you,” the mocking voice of your unwelcome roommate snarled above you. His mass pressed into you, backing you against the door with his cold, goosebumps-causing body. Sandwiched between wall and ghost, you could barely breathe, fearing that every movement would press you further into him. He was hard to describe—being a ghost and all—but you could feel every flexing of undead muscle around you and the cold draft at your sides when he dragged his hands down the door to cage you in.

Your ghost was huge, looming above you with a broad chest and strong arms. At least his form was somewhat human, which made it a little easier to predict his movements. And yet you feared him more than you had any man before. No matter if his dark blue, translucent form resembled that of a man, he had eyes as piercing and cold as silver daggers. You didn’t need to look him in the eyes to feel them drag down your body, the goosebumps following his gaze as if he was cutting open your skin. The moves he could do with his limbs had the range of a human but at the same time were too erratic, too possessive to lull you into a false sense of security.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked you, the smile curling on his chapped, dead lips resounding unmistakenly in his voice.

“We’ll cleanse the apartment and purge you!” Your voice betrayed you with its shakiness as you tried to sound confident. Knowing your ghost could only manifest himself at night, you felt safe confronting him even though it was scary. Especially when he let out a low, humored laugh as a reply.

“You think a little bit of incense and some stones can make me go away?”

Upon hearing his taunt, you finally took heart, breathing in deeply before turning around painfully slow. From beneath your lashes, you caught a glimpse at him, his long hair falling from his scalp around your head, so you were caught face to face with him. Your ghost wasted no time pressing his body against yours tightly. Every curve of your body caught by his chest, causing him to growl in satisfaction. One arm wrapped around your midriff, pulling you as taut as he could, letting you feel every muscle and every bulge on his body as well. “Haven’t I told you that we can co-exist peacefully just like this?”

“Yes,” you replied honestly, but in reality, you didn’t really know what he meant by ‘this’. Maybe the worst part about the situation wasn’t knowing he was a ghost or that he looked the way he did. Perhaps it wasn’t even him watching you sleep every night while you pretended he wasn’t there. The worst part undoubtedly was what he wanted from you: life.

The ghost never told you what that meant, but you had your assumptions.

“And you told me you lived ‘peacefully’ with the last tenant too.”

“Right,” he agreed, grinning since you remembered what he told you.

“Then why did they leave you?” you added to your sentence, watching his expression twist and twitch as you hit his sore spot.

A long moment passed you in silence as the ghost seemed to get increasingly angry the longer he thought about your statement. You took your chance to slip out from his body prison, walking around him and stumbling to your bed. Slowly, he straightened his back, his head slipping into the ceiling as he stood at his full height before he followed you, needing less than one step until he reached your bed.

“They... were weak. They couldn’t see me like you do. Couldn’t experience me to the fullest like you will. It scared them.”

Exhausted from the stress and his riddles, you sat down at the edge of the bed, watching as he stretched out his hands, long fingers pointing in all directions before returning into the shape of a hand. This gesture felt almost normal to you now, showing signs of hesitation and nervousness on his part, though you weren’t sure what someone as frightful as he had to be nervous about. The topic of the old tenants had never been a good one, that’s for sure.

“I can’t either. I’m scared too and I don’t want to,” you shattered whatever hopes he held in his non-existent brain, perhaps a bit carelessly. His head twitched before he disappeared into the shadows. You jumped as your bedside lamp suddenly switched off, the only light coming in from the street through your curtains.

“You don’t know yet... how good I am.”

“Please...” you sighed, feeling a headache burning up behind your tired eyes. “Please just leave me alone.”

Suddenly, two large hands grabbed your knees, pushing them apart, though you reacted quickly, your palms landing in his face and causing the ghost to stop. You couldn’t see what he was doing, only feeling his tongue slip between your fingers, hoping to cause you to retract your barrier so his body could advance. But even though you used all your strength to push him away, you were soon toppled over on your bed, the ghost creeping on top of you like a night terror. Paranormal spit dripped from your hands onto your cheek, his tongue remarkably long, wrapping around your wrists and rubbing over your palms.

“You give me what I want, and then I will consider leaving you alone... for a little bit.”

“I. Don’t. Want. To!” You stood your ground, wiggling one leg between his body and yours and pushing into his groin. It wasn’t as successful as you thought. Instead of him moving, you gained a groan rumbling deep through his chest before reaching your ears.

“I’ll show you regardless, and you can change your mind afterward.”

“I will scream!” you warned him, infuriated to hear him laugh out loud at your feeble tries of scaring him.

“I don’t mind an audience. Not when you’ll make me feel more alive than I have been in centuries.”

“Let me go!” you finally yelled, regardless of who would hear. Tugging hard at your hands, more spit dripped down at you, every drop making you want to throw up. Even his tongue was stronger than your whole body weight tearing at it. You were lucky his hands were still settled at your thighs, pushing them apart to give him more access.

“I’ll never let you go,” he finally confessed, causing more goosebumps on your skin and your movements growing even more frantic as you panicked. “I was waiting for someone like you to finally come here, recognize my presence and feed me. I’ll eat it all, Darling—your fear, your panic, your pleasure.”

Despite his tongue hanging out, the words he spoke traveled clear and loud into your ears, but your mind could not make sense of them. “Stop it,” you whined softly, shaking your hands in his hold, but his tongue only tightened in return.

“No can do,” he chuckled. “By the end of the night, you’ll finally understand.”

Helpless, all you could do was tug your arms in, using them as your last defense against the ghost. You were too scared to ask but at the same time needed to know the solution to all these little riddles he spoke in. But that was a pleasure you’d never get.

“Understand what?”

As if he had waited for you to ask, the ghost smirked a bit wider, a little crazier than before, the look of victory washing over his face, full of confidence and madness. Finally, his tongue slipped off your hands, and you pulled them close, wiping the spit off on your shirt and readying them to fight if necessary.

“Understand that you can’t get rid of me. You belong to me now, and I...”

Leaning down, his lips brushed your cheek, almost tenderly so, before he lowered himself to your ear and purred,

“I’ll always be with you.”

#Ghost #yandere ghost #yandere!ghost #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #Lemon

520 notes · View notes