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lesservillain · 2 days

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v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?”

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside.

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling.

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.”

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her.

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately.

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot.

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around.

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games.

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that.

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over.

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between.

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.”

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you.

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.”

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time.

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam.

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours.

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you.

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door.

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do.

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open.

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off.

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head.

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before.

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him.

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden.

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world.

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone.

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation.

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it.

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road.

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them.

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you.

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement.

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again.

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow.

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter.

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel.

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath.

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.”

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.”

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you.

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips.

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall.

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster.

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain.

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping.

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts.

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment.

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian.

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances.

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park.

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags.

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours.

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie.

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you.

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral.

Sure enough he was looking at it, too.

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie.

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him.

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier.

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave.

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.”

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him.

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s.

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours.

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside.

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room.

Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace.

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered.

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move.

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—”

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door.

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986.

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so.

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max.

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long.

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in.

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips.

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening.

Then it hits you.

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #disabled!eddie munson #disabled!eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie st

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freckliedan · 23 hours

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if they're both out, then why bother hiding their relationship / stuff like sharing a room and going on couple holidays? surely all of their fans know that they're together so i don't get the point of buying a home with 2 bedrooms and having a fake apartments? sorry very confused very casual fan here

hi!!! i am always so happy to share information, so ty for asking me about it! i'm going to take these questions piece by piece ^_^

if they're out why bother hiding: most of the examples of them taking serious steps to hide their relationship are from before they came out! they have been together since 2009, but dan wasn't even out to his family until 2019, shortly before he came out publicly.

why not come out sooner than that? i'll try to be brief and avoid rehashing dan's entire coming out video (which is worth watching). several reasons: he was severely bullied from early childhood onward for being gay—from before he even had the chance to consider if he was actually gay. his dad was homophobic to the point dan seems to have removed him from his life completely, & he was raised by religious grandparents so unsure of the reception there.

and significantly: he and phil were outed by a youtube glitch that leaked an extremely personal video in 2011 that leaked again on a broader scale about a year later. being outed was a part of the bullying dan had experienced so this was retraumatizing but on a bigger scale.

they had had SOME level of plausable deniability regarding their relationship before the leak, but hadn't been very actively closeting themselves before that point? and then the leak happened around when they were blowing up in popularity/around when youtube was becoming a viable career, so they were already grappling with sudden fame & a lot of other things happening in their lives at the time.

dan was 20 and phil was 24 the first time that video leaked; they were 21 and 25 and living in an apartment they couldn't afford on their own hoping the bbc would hire them (they did) the second time it did. it makes sense that they came down hard & firmly closeted themselves, especially dan, especially with what he's shared of his personal experiences.

2012-13 was the peak closet, but by 2015 they were already being more open—that's the first couple's trip they went on again after active closeting started. they've just become more and more open from there, but the peak closet era was so definitive that the public perception of them as not a couple WILL NOT SHIFT until they directly express that they are a couple.

they ARE out to fans as a couple, and imo have been since before they came out individually. they've said things along the lines of "we know you know" multiple times.

why not be definitive about their relationship status when they came out? it would've overshadowed them coming out as individuals and they didn't want that. it will be MASSIVE news when they hard launch their relationship. they went ambiguous with it on purpose in 2019 and succeeded.

so. to circle back to your questions.

why bother hiding their relationship? they haven't really since coming out. they've been living freely and being open about that in whatever ways are comfortable to them. they took some time out of the public eye for a while and i'm glad they got to have that so they could explore what happiness looks like without feeling the need to perform. but it was also something that was intentionally temporary!

at this point in time when they call each other friends or roommates etc they're fully doing a bit. like. it's funny! and it's funny at our expense which makes it even funnier—it's their turn to put us through some shit, you know? & the joke is more on people who AREN'T familiar with them than anyone else at this point. it's nice being in on things with them.

why hide sharing a bedroom? they haven't really since moving into their forever home! they have a bedroom and a guest room and there's a murphy bed in phil's filming space/personal office.

phil at some point made a comment that the murphy bed is for if they have two guests over at the same time—something that will only really read as "they share a bedroom" to people keeping track of rooms in their house.

i don't think that they share a bed they sleep in 100% of the time. which is like, normal and healthy? being able to sleep in a different bed when you want/need is NICE i've known so many people who keep seperate rooms in committed relationships and if i was rich enough i'd love having two bedrooms with beds in them in my relationship. even if we'd mostly sleep in the same place.

i also think having multiple beds means dan and phil can have freak sex in one and be lazy about clean up bc they have other beds so that's. a plus for them too.

but like. yeah. i think it's less that they're hiding that they share a bedroom and more that they share a bedroom but have better boundaries with their audience at this point—there stopped being video liveshows after they came out and they'd stopped doing liveshows from their actual bedroom when they moved in to the separate apartment situation.

+ the separate apartment situation was ONLY ever meant to be short term, & was a solution to the situation before that, when every room was in videos and it permanently felt like they were living in sets.

why hide couple holidays? they haven't since before coming out! they also go on a lot of double dates.

no sorries on the confusion and thank you for the chance to infodump!

#ARIES WILL ALSO MOST LIKELY RB THIS WITH A COMMENT.#anon #history #phan #dan and phil #bedroom #bedrooms #two flat theory #jam replies

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sammygender · 1 day

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something sooooo interesting about sam saying ‘i have powers’ present tense in american nightmare. even tho he proceeds to use past tense when talking about what he could do… he still identifies as having them. taking that as confirmation they’re still within him and he’s just too deeply traumatised by s4/5 to use them again <3 if this show was good though sam‘s psychic powers would’ve made a comeback

#it is CRIMINAL they just. never use his powers again after s5. do they even use them in s5??#i know the visions were azazel related but like. iirc there were also comments about sam being able to sense things in like s1 which i don’t #read as coming from the demon blood necessarily #my personal take on the psychic kids is that they were all prone to being psychic & the demon blood just harnessed that power in the #specifically demonic/powerful way we see in the show #is that just because i like it? yes <3 but it also just makes more sense to me. those kids were chosen for a reason.#that’s my take anyway #spn #spn 12x04 #anyway LOVED that episode #sam winchester #oliver talks

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rosedom · 2 days

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Consider, male Naga reader (with character of your choice because I'm indecisive) using our tail to wrap around the character and hold him down as we pleasure him because he's really sensitive and keeps subconsciously trying to wiggling out of our affections even thought he very much likes what's going on and is completely consenting 🤔 Maybe, it's our first time with the character (or at all/vise versa). Size difference would be so hot with this, too, don't you think? Perhaps, we're eating him out, perhaps were dicking him down- either way it would be very hot. Wait, what about a stomach bulge because that could be either our penis or our tongue since snakes have longue tongues. Also, think about how a forked tongue would probably feel on his insides 😵‍💫. I'm kind of rambling, I think, but what about like a hissing pronunciation if we ever say a word with an 's' in it and we could also have scales on parts of our body besides our tail? We could even be able to open our jaw super wide, too! Hehe, I'm going to stop, now. Sorry if this didn't make a bunch of sense, by the way!! English is my second language and I'm more used to speaking it than writing it; the punctuation is the only thing I'm confident about 😶‍🌫️

"an unnamed player has invited SHIKANOIN HEIZOU to play . . . a practice of form

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, naga!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!heizou, he's j human, cunnilingus, vaginal/anal fingering/sex, size difference + stomach bulge, creampie, aftercare implied but not written .

A/N : it made perfect sense, don't worry !! i hope what i wrote does . . .

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

There are perks to being a naga. There's the sensitivity of your tastebuds, for one, and the way warmth can seep into you oh-so easily.

So, really, it only makes sense for your tongue—this long, forked thing—to delve across the contours of Heizou’s body. He squirms under you, breathless, the heat of his blush seeping into you. Like this, you could simply swallow him up.

“Ssso warm, mm,” you murmur, all tipsy-like off of his body.

You’ve been absolutely aching for his warmth recently, the blood in your veins far too chilled to provide you any comfort; after all, the sun’s been hiding behind the clouds all week, and with its disappearance comes a pain that you can feel in your bones.

It’s lucky, then, that your partner doubles as your own personal heater. Even though he wields Anemo, he runs warm: many a time, Heizou’s created small gusts of winds to cool him down (or, alternatively, warm you up.

Your favorite remains skin-to-skin, though; or, rather, skin-to-scale. Is that even a thing?).

“And you’re so colddd,” Heizou whines, squirming away—that is, until your tail wraps around his middle and successfully pins him in place. He visibly gulps.

The bob of his throat is irresistible, and you lean down to lick at him there, too. It's so warm, here, tucked into his throat like this, the heat emanating from the thin surface of his skin down to his veins, to the heavy thrum of his pulse.

“You said you could take me like this,” you coo against him. “Backing down now, little detective o’ mine?”

He pouts and says, “Of course not;” and in his eyes is nothing but bare want.

(“I can take you,” Heizou had said, all that time ago.

You had him wrapped up in your human arms, your markedly human legs tangled with him, and it was, for all intents and purposes, a normal night—the two of you, curled up together, the soft hum of the radio lulling you to sleep.

That is, until Heizou broke that sea of tranquility with that one dirty promise.

“I dunno, Hei,” you had murmured. You had hesitated, at first, trying desperately to deny the heat that you felt in your belly at it. For a man with cold blood, you swore it had singed, right then and there, with him squirming in your lap, all those naughty fantasies of his running around in that smart lil’ head.

And, as you thought of little, you murmured, “You’re just—you’re so little that I fear I would hurt you.”

“No pain, no gain.” He had laughed, but you went on and pinched the humor out of him.

“No, Heizou.”

...

Obviously, you acquiesced in the end; and you can’t deny how much the idea aroused you, even back then. After all, Heizou, sat up in your lap like that—he had certainly felt the swell of your cock.)

“Okay,” you murmur, finally, the silence—save for Heizou’s barely-laborious breath, from the heartbeat that pounds in your ears—broken, “but you will tell me when it hurtsss, won't you?”

He scoffs. “You won't let it hurt.”

Your heart does something silly, a hiss crawling from your throat that you smother into his bare throat. “You’ve never taken me like thisss before, Hei, I can't promisss—” and then his lips are on yours, devilish little tongue probing into the “o” of your gasp.

His tongue—this small, cute thing compared to yours—licks across your palate before you regain your bearings, the muscle swiping your breath as you take control again. He melts easily when you wrap your tongue around his, teasing and tickling his mouth as you bully your way into his, instead. You can taste a hint of the chicken katsu he had earlier in his spit, dragging your tongue through his mouth in a desperate bid to swallow him right up.

You pull back at that. “S-sssorry,” you murmur, embarrassed. You knew your instincts were strong, but—

“Quit apologizing, babe.” Even as arousal simmers in his eyes—heady enough to taste, and, oh, how you want to—, his emerald irises are gentle, soft. “I’m into it, okay? And I’ll tell you if—” he looks at you pointedly, “—you hurt me.”

Melting into the hands he has beneath your jaw, you sigh, nodding. “Okay,” you repeat. “Okay.”

He grins this toothy thing, then, and tries to scoot aside, tries to get out from under you; but what neither of you expect is the way your chest aches, the way your tail lashes out and curls tight around his middle to keep him firm in the coil you’ve wrapped him in. Even through your thick skin—covered in emerald scales, some spanning the width of a small nail to an entire hand—, you can feel the erratic pitter-patter of Heizou’s pulse.

He is trapped, and he loves it.

“If I’m going to fuck you like this—” you let your words hang in the air, your breath fanning hot across his blushing face, “—then you’re going to be a good boy for me and ssstay exactly where I leave you.”

He says nothing.

“Heizou, darling,” you coo as you lean down—just enough for him to go a little bit cross-eyed—, his lips parting for a kiss that never comes. “Did you hear me?”

When he nods, you tut. “Words, please.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slow, and his tongue darts out to lick across his dry lips. “Won't you kiss me?”

Who are you to deny him? Immediately, your eyes soften, and you lean in quick to pepper kisses across his face before you land on his lips. His arms wrap around your neck as you do so, and he squirms, body twisting in the grasp of your tail; yet even as he writhes, you admit, he does stay still. He never makes like he's trying to leave your embrace; he’s merely overwhelmed by the sensation of you throughout his body.

Soon enough, you're leaning back, chuckling at the way Heizou tries to chase your lips. You squeeze him, though, preventing him from doing so.

He pouts. “Why'd you stop?”

“I can't sssuck your cock if my mouth’s busssy kissing you, sssilly,” you coo, but you do lean back in for a quick, parting peck.

Heizou’s certainly not complaining anymore. “O-oh,” he murmurs, nodding rather dumbly. You gently grin at him before, with the help of your tail—and absolutely no help at all from the man himself, manhandling him as if he weren’t over a hundred pounds of limber muscle—, laying him flat on his back. Like this, your tail acts like the perfect support for his lower back—with the added benefit of leaving him fully exposed for your greedy sight, your salivating tongue.

“You're ssso gorgeousss.” You run your hands—cold, scales brushing across his flanks—down his sides, fingernails barely-there marks of white that fade quickly.

Eventually, you tire of the same motions; so instead, you lean down, holding yourself up by your forearms, and lick at his skin, at the moles dotted across his torso.

He squirms again, then: “You’re—” he giggles, “—you’re tickling me!”

Though it’s far from the first time you’ve ever licked your sweet partner—and, truly, the taste of him is nothing but sweet across your tongue—, Heizou still can’t seem to get used to the sensation. Though, to be fair, you’re not exactly playing fair, here: with each swipe of your tongue, you tease the forked end of it in small circles, the tips terribly ticklish.

“‘m sssorry, lovely,” you say, not sorry at all. You squeeze his middle again, once, this gentle thing that forces a shaky breath of air ricocheting from his chest; and, speaking of chest: “God, you’re divine.” You trace the ragged scar that sits below his chest—on his heart’s side, closest to where it steadily beats for you—with your tongue, delighting in the way Heizou is torn between pressing his chest into you and saying away from the attention.

Soon enough, you slide over to the other side of his torso, letting your tongue rake across the twin scar there, too. One of his hands comes and tangles itself in your hair, and he lightly tugs to pull you away from his skin; you succumb to his pull, but only after nipping at his nipple. (He can hardly feel it, anyway, but it's the thought that counts.)

“Stop teasing,” he says before his hand falls from your hair to rest against the tail you have curled around him. His hands are a welcome pressure against your scales, and you find yourself almost purring at the sensation.

“Ssso hard already,” you murmur, lips brushing the ruddy head of him. You can feel his hips try and jump, but, held down as he is, he’s resolutely stuck in place. “Easy, easy—” you grin when you see the way your breath makes his cunt clench around nothing, his cock throb beneath your lips, “jusss’ relax. I’ll be gentle, jusss’ like I promisssed you, yeah?”

But, you decide your beloved is right: it is time to quit teasing. “Fine, fine,” you acquiesce, beginning to nose down his belly, nose rubbing through his faint happy trail. The hair’s soft against your cheek and well-groomed, leading down to the thatch of hair that hides that which you so adore: his cute, chubby cock.

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, voice shaky in a way that is, really, so unlike him, the revered Shikanoin Heizou, detective. His voice never shakes like this, outside of this—and you love it, the possessive snake you are. (It’s a good thing Heizou loves it, else this would become awkward quick.)

Every single time, you forget just how big Heizou is: his cock fills your mouth perfectly, its weight heavy on your tongue as you lave at it. Your tongue curls around it, once, twice, the forked tip of it rubbing incessantly against the head of it. Throughout it all, Heizou whimpers pitifully, hands twitching on your tail as he can’t quite decide whether to pull you away or pull you closer.

“Please—” he cries out, and you swear his cock grows thicker between your lips. Beneath it all—where your chin juts into his leaking cunt—, you can feel him clench erratically, cunt empty yet wanting so terribly for something to fill it up. “In me, in me, please, baby,” he begs.

Around your mouthful of cock, you hum to the affirmative, delighting in his shrill cry; after, though, you slowly retract your tongue, letting it unravel from him bit-by-bit. The split at the end of your tongue rubs either side of him before you retreat fully, and then you’re fucking it into him, inch-by-inch, sliding in slow and easy, slick from him and your saliva combined. Your tongue—wholly in your control and rather sensitive at that—rubs against a swollen spot deep in his cunt, and he cries out, head falling back into the pillows as you press at it relentlessly.

“Oh, oh, please—” When he’s drunk off pleasure like this, Heizou always begins to babble: it’s always nonsensical things, little pleas and pleads for more, more, more. “‘s so deep!”

“Mhm?” you hum against his cunt in reply, tongue deep ‘nuff in him that you begin to eye a small, barely-there bulge below his navel. A moan tumbles out of you at the revelation, one of your hands coming up to press into it. The pressure makes Heizou scream.

“Fuck!” he yells, hands scrabbling for the one you have pressed on his belly. He thrashes, writhes, and you only grin against him, tongue bullied in deep; but, oh, you can go deeper, can’t you?

The perks of being a naga, you suppose.

You hum a soft warning against his blushing cunt before you gently crack open your jaw, letting your mouth fall open impossibly further. Heizou makes a wrecked sound when he realizes just what it is you’re doing before it grows louder, the sensation of your tongue going even deeper making him sob. If your eyes weren’t closed—if you weren’t enjoying this meal so terribly—, you’d notice the fat tears slipping down his cheeks.

Alas, you can kiss them away later. With your jaw cracked open like this, you’re able to run the base of your tongue against the hot jut of his cock as the end of it undulates inside of him, thrusting shallowly; but you’re favorite part?

Speaking of your cock—it’s, frankly, this ridiculous thing, long and thick and the same emerald color as your tail. It alone, however, is hardly anything noteworthy; no, instead, it's the fact that you have two in this form. It's these two twin cocks that scared you so, and it's those two twin cocks that urge you to pull out the fingers you've got knuckle-deep in Heizou’s cunt to press them, one-by-one, into his ass.

The way the added space gives you plenty of room to slide a finger below your own mouth, adding one, two, three fingers into his cunt as your tongue bullies relentlessly at the front of his walls. Like this, you can’t curl your fingers very well—not without uncomfortably jabbing through your own tongue—, but you can stretch him plenty and prepare him well enough for your cock.

His cunt would surely break with both of them.

“‘m ready, please,” he mumbles, cries, reaching for your head to pull your face away from his cunt. You don't make the prettiest sight, jaw unhinged and stupidly long tongue lolling out of your mouth, but Heizou doesn't mind it. Besides, it's easy to click everything back in place, wipe away the slick and saliva that coats your chin, and reach for Heizou’s face with the hand that was in his cunt. The fingers of your other hand still work at his ass, loosening him up for you.

“Mm,” you hum, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. “Now you are.” Your fingers leave him with a quiet pop, a sound that makes Heizou’s ears flame red. At his reaction, you gently laugh, nuzzling at his cheek. “Don't be embarrassssed,” you say, fumbling over the double s. (It’s hard enough saying anything with an “s” in it, thank you.” “‘sss hot.”

He huffs at you. “Quit talking and fuck me,” he grumbles, before adding a quiet, “please,” when you lean back to look him in the eye.

“Can’t fuck you ‘til you get my cocksss out, sssilly,” you murmur, taking him by the hand and guiding him to the soft scales beneath your belly. They're hardly noticeable, indistinguishable between the scales of your tail, but, like this, aroused and swollen, the slit of you is more apparent. As your fingers—and his—work in tandem, these small, gentle motions that get your cocks to peek out and grow, the relief of no longer being stuck inside you makes you hiss in pleasure.

Once your cocks are out, though, your tail tugs at your lover’s middle in order to get him hovering above your lap. The mess between his thighs dribbles onto your cocks, mixing with your sticky pre-cum. “Go on,” you coo, “sssit on my cocks.”

He gulps.

“We can ssstop at any time, lovely,” you add, but Heizou’s eyes turn hooded as he lifts his chin at you in challenge. “Alright!”

Heizou, the minx, lowers his hips further, supported by your tail and your hands gripping at him, ‘til his cunt and ass brush your cocks, smearing your pre-cum between his thighs. He mewls when one of your cocks bump into his just right, and, for a moment, he lets himself grind against you, still terribly empty. “Please,” he murmurs, “Fill me, please, you promised—”

“I promisssed I’d be gentle, Hei,” you say, letting his body weight be held up entirely by your tail as your hand takes hold of your cocks, instead, slowly aiming them in, regardless of your chastising tone, “and ‘m not gonna go back on it just ‘cos you’re impatient. Be ssslow, okay?”

Finally, Heizou nods, letting you lead until your cockheads pop into him one at a time, first in his cunt and then in his ass. He moans at the stretch, his breath shaky, fresh tears budding up at his waterline and threatening to spill over when he begins to slide down, down, down. You’re not even halfway in when Heizou’s body seizes up, forcing your tail to wrap tight around him to keep him still lest he fall too quickly and hurt himself.

“You’re so big,” he manages through labored breaths, “fuck me, fill me, please, please—”

“Easy, lovely,” you mumble, taking over and drawing him off your cocks incrementally before tugging him back down, allowing him ample time to stretch with each gentle thrust until he’s fully seated on your lap, cunt and ass full to brimming. “There we go.

“Do you feel good?” you ask, tail keeping him upright as his body threatens to crumble with the pleasure of your cocks filling him. He’s so warm inside, and your cocks, normally as cold-blooded as the rest of you, absolutely singe with the heat emanating from him.

In lieu of reply, though, Heizou tips his head up and begs you, oh-so sweetly, to “please, move.”

How could you resist?

It’s hard (hah), moving Heizou in this form of yours. You’re scared of hurting him—of the scales across your skin nicking him, of your tail squeezing too tight, of your cocks stretching him too painfully—, yet he moans so prettily, so unabashedly, bouncing on you as the sweetest of melodies spill past his lips. Your tail dwarfs him, and you’re taken by the size difference between the two of you. So easily, you could snap his back; he could be your prey, but here he is, boneless with trust and pleasure in your lap.

“Please, please,” he begs, delirious, eyes open and heady, aimed at your lips. You lean in to kiss him, entranced by the way his eyes flutter shut as your face gets nearer to his. Like this, you can swallow up every one of his sweet moans, his delicate cries: it is delightful.

On one particular grind, though, paired with an adjustment of your tail around him, you feel a subtle bump against his abdomen: your cocks. Just like your tongue prodded through him earlier, so, too, are your cocks, enormous inside of his small body. He seems to notice it just as you do, leaning back from your lips with a loud gasp as a shiver wracks his frame. “Oh, oh—”

“You’re ssso sssmall,” you mumble, moving him quicker and quicker as he erratically clenches around you. Like this, he won’t even need his cock touched to tumble into orgasm; and it’s this thought that makes you realize how close you are, the rope in your belly terribly close to snapping. “‘m gonna cum,” you warn, leaning into his throat to lick at his salty skin. “Gonna cum in you, fill you up even more—”

Heizou’s mouth falls open. “I-I’m—” He tries to warn you, too, but it’s too late: his body tenses as his orgasm crests over him. The sight, the sounds—it all serves to make that knot snap, following close behind him in your own orgasm.

The clench of his cunt and ass around your swollen cocks makes your orgasm feel like it goes on forever, cum spurting out of both twin heads and filling him up nice n’ heavy. He moans and mewls, whimpers and whines, clutching at you as his oversensitive holes cling to you. “Ssso good for me, lovely, Heizou, you were lovely,” you say, delirious, cocks softening and beginning to retract, sliding out of him and back into the scales below your belly. You’ll be sticky and messy inside, later, but for now, you’re worried about your beloved.

He’s limp in your hold—the hold of your tail and hands both—, twitching every now and then at the way thick, opaque cum begins to dribble out of both of his used holes, smearing across his inner thighs and you. It’s going to be a bitch to clean up, you already know, but you merely sigh, tugging him closer into you until you’re pressed chest-to-chest and you’re laying on your back.

“You did ssso good,” you repeat. “Was it what you wanted?”

He nods. “Everything I wanted and more,” he mumbles, voice barely-there. You grin.

It’s time to get used to this form: Heizou’s going to want to be fucked like this again soon. (Preferably in another week, though; he already won’t be able to sit tomorrow.)

if u noticed any spelling or grammar errors, no u didn't. i hope this fulfilled your fantasies, anon !! >< this ask made me think sooooo hard . . . but i ultimately kinda-sorta burnt out, ergo why i didn't write an aftercare scene. it is there, though: aftercare is the most important part of sex !!

don't forget to support palestine with your free, daily click.

2 JUN. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#this was over 3k words btw . . haha . .#sub heizou #heizou smut #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #sub character #sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #trans smut #ftm nsft #dom reader #top reader #amab reader #aaaand that's a wrap (a wrap of ur tail around heizou)#o(*////▽////*)q

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hoshifighting · 22 hours

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Oi lindeza, como você está? Espero que esteja bem :)

I'm gonna ask this in English because it just make ms sense to me, but could you write about seventeen being in love with a woman who has kinda a masculine energy ? I know, it's weird, but I keep thinking about how they would react if in a certain situations the girl takes the lead like they're supposed to do. Like arguing with a inconvenient waiter or while someone is trying to cross the line with them.

Obrigada ❤️

Seventeen in love with a woman who leads and takes charge

a/n: oii meu amor! estou bem e você? adorei o request, mto criativo!! um monte de beijooos, espero que goste!! ❤️❤️

Seungcheol:

seungcheol is used to taking care of others, having done so from a young age. when you first stepped in and took control of an unexpected situation, it completely blew his mind. he found it both surprising and incredibly attractive. despite his natural instinct to care for you as his woman, he found himself captivated when you defended him. for once, he could relax and be taken care of.

Jeonghan:

jeonghan absolutely loves when you take charge. the first time you did, he had stars in his eyes. he adores the dynamic and often sulks playfully, asking you to handle things for him, "Y/N-nie, can you please talk to them? they messed up my order again." "Y/N-nie, the guys are making fun of meee!"

Joshua:

joshua, the quintessential gentleman – okay, everyone knows it!! –, always aims to take care of you. however, his kindness sometimes leads to others taking advantage of him. you stepping in to assertively balance the energy, "no, Joshua. they need to respect you baby!" especially when he's too kind, makes him appreciate you even more.

Jun:

junhui feels shy when you take charge, but he also admires you immensely. when you argued with a rude waiter on his behalf, he was awestruck, feeling like he was watching a lioness protect her ground, feeling incredibly lucky to have you by his side.

Hoshi:

another one that loves when you take charge. he enjoys watching you handle situations, often making playful 'I told you so' faces to the person causing the problem. "oh really? I can't do that? let me call my Y/N-nie then."

Wonwoo:

he is gentle and often too shy to defend himself. he appreciates your protective nature, even if he doesn't always show it. you scolding him for not standing up for himself makes him realize how much you care. "I know I should have said something, but seeing you stand up for me..." he doesn't finish his sentence, but the blush on his cheeks says everything.

Woozi:

prefers to ignore problems, but when you defend him ferociously, he's caught off guard. he might initially tell you there's no need, but inside, he finds it incredibly hot and smirks afterwards. "come on, there's no need to get into it... but thank you."

Minghao:

despite being capable of standing up for himself, loves your protectiveness. your diplomatic skills and ability to resolve the situation calmly leave him in awe. he appreciates the way you ensure his safety, even if he tells you to let things go sometimes. "It's fine, really. but I love how you always look out for me."

Mingyu:

the big boy, feels like he's watching his superhero when you take charge. whether it's handling his documents at a clinic or standing up for him when he's uncomfortable, he loves it. he might not let you pay for dinner, but seeing you ready to do so with your card between your fingers, makes his heart swell.

Seokmin:

he sees you as his princess and doesn’t want you to lift a finger. however, he appreciates when you take charge in certain situations. he loves balancing your capable nature with his desire to take care of you. "I know you handle everything so well, but let me do this for you, okay?"

Seungkwan:

loves when you protect him, whether it’s putting your arm around him when someone gets too close or asking someone to lower their voice for him. he finds your assertiveness incredibly charming. "the way you handle things, it's so hot. I feel so lucky."

Vernon:

he doesn't mind if you lead or not, but he enjoys telling others about your assertiveness. he loves making comments about how you handle situations, showing his admiration. "my girlfriend’s giving me a ride." or "let me think what Y/N would do in this situation."

Chan:

chan learns a lot from you about positioning himself. he finds it incredibly hot when you lead and put people in their place. he admires you silently and strives to be like you. "you’re amazing. I hope I can be as strong as you are someday." you're his model, muse, love, inspiration... oh, this boy just loves you soo much! "I always admire you in silence."

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barrenclan · 2 days

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i think rainhaze is one of my favorites characters ever genuinely, issue 37 was AMAZING and i really loved how rainhazes arc finally ended. I feel rlly happy bc this was a very poingant way of putting that rabid dog down but also i mean. I am a little sad. I pity rainhaze but in a way you pity a cocroach or something... He had it coming, his death was soooo well executed!! rain and all of defiance see killing as a divine right, and seeing that turn on rainhaze was very cathartic.

The casual way he spoke about asphodels murder was genuinely sickening. As if it was all a favor to HER, instead of rainhazes cowardice and trauma and brainwashing and selfishness making him kill his niece im cold blood. The way his own death dragged on and on, how painful and terryfying and gruesome it was - this is what asphodelpaw went through. Her death was not like falling asleep and neither was his. It was scary and painful and cold. So cold.

The way this comic completely subverted audience expectations with rainhazes character is sooo so good... At first he was just a chilli dead guy. then he turned into a classic winter solider type - morally dubious but still symphatetic, a 'poor little meow meow' who was stuck in a horrible situation he had no way of leaving. and then he killed asphodelpaw in cold blood. That moment, when he chose to embrace the violence, the damned coward, was such a delicious and twisted reaveal - forcing the reader to reconsider the whole story and character from an entirely new perspective.

i think we as people well versed in fandom tend to woobify and water down characters like rainhaze and make them into 'poor little meow meows' - removing their agency in the situation entirely to make them more personable and toned down - and rain feels to me like a purposful dissection of that. he IS sympathetic, to a degree. the shit he want through was undeniably awful - and it broke him and molded him into a monster.

rainhazes character was always about choice, i think. about decisions you make and the decisions made for you, and how you respond to the latter... about the question of autonomy. where does your choices end and other peoples influence begin? and does it really matter, in the end? does it matter whether or not rainhaze did what he did out of his own will or under rangers influence? he still did it. even if he were sorry, and hes not, would that matter? he killed her. there is no bringing her back and he had to deal with the consequences himself. abandoned by his family and his tormentor alike.

his death was pathetic and slow and pitiful, and above all disturbing - just like rainhaze himself. i think thats the word that describes him best - pathetic. rest in pieces, you cold bastard. ill miss you.

sorry this is so long..... i tried to put my thoughts into words here and i still fell short, i hope at least some of it makes sense

So, so many people have wonderful, intricate and moving thoughts about Rainhaze in my inbox, and I want to share them all with you. So here is the first one.

Rainhaze really did make for a great deconstruction of the "poor little guy" trope that I was interested in exploring. Shellspring also did, to an extent, but with Rainhaze I wanted to get really deep into it. How much of this is his fault? What could he have done differently? Is his death cathartic, satisfying, triumphant, painful, tragic, or anything else? It was a lot of fun to write and I'm glad so many people seem to have enjoyed it.

#ask #rainhaze #analysis #currently i have about 240 asks so like. it may take a bit to get to them all understand #patfw spoilers

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skyrigel · 1 day

Note

Hey Rigel I love ur work like so much 💓 can I request Anthony bridgerton where he is getting married and realises his love his y/n or smth similar with him getting jealous and angry when y/n and Benedict or colin fake date like tht or anything if this doesn't make sense 😭

Enchanted | A.B x you

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict x fem!reader x colin ( platonic)

Part 1 of Enchanted, " Sparks fly " | 3.8k

Synopsis: When Aubreyton's CEO strikes a match with Miss Edwina sharma, because she's nice and kind and witty, ofcourse nothing could go wrong, except the bride elopes, except Colin has a plan, except the plan is you.

Warning :CEO! Anthony x assistant! reader, Asshole! Anthony, Benedict x sophie, Polin, bridgerton's chaotic dynamic, reader and Benedict share one brain cell that's mostly with you, alcohol, fake marriage( Anthony and reader), social media au, office au, modern setting, forced proximity, jealousy jealousy, mutual pinning, fluffy fluff, bit angst, arranged marriage, bit Collen Hoover bashing but it's a joke ( maybe not ) no Edwina bashing, scary Kate sharma, yes!!! ( Might add more later )

Rigel's note 🪩 : This makes perfect sense to me anon !!!!!! I hope modern setting au is good, I live and die for jealous! Anthony<3 also Benedict x best friend! Reader, *kisses* i really hope you like it, my silly little series and hit on multiple parts fic, my requests are open and sorry it took so long, bad Rigel :( this series needs a banner but I am so lazy !!! <33333

" Your brother is an idiot." You said, gritting your teeth as your mail blew with applicants, beautiful young ladies with peculiar yet remarkable talents.

" That." Benedict catched the grape midair with his mouth," we know of." He added with a cocky grin.

" Read another ! " Colin peppered, stealing your cookies which you ignored, sighing as you opened another mail.

" Tiana Young, twenty-one, I like to read, write and sing, my favourite author is Collen Hoover—" Benedict snorted, " —I like children and hope to be a mother, I am very soft spoken and good natured, my neighbours call me Ti, because I am a tea kinda person—"

" What's a tea kinda person ? " Colin bited the smuggled cookie, Benedict pulled the remaining to his side hastily, you felt your appetite long gone.

" It's like...they are like tea..." Benedict said, more in doubt as he looked for affirmation.

" Like milk tea or another tea ? " You asked, perhaps tea could takeaway your headache.

" What's an another tea ? " Colin's hand began to pull the tray, Benedict frowned but said nothing, taking one hurriedly and breaking it into two parts, offering you the bigger one.

" No thank-you, let me fix this Tiana's appointment." You exhaled, copy pasting a paragraph how (un) grateful you were to her for reaching out, she would soon have her appointment date and bla bla bla.

" I knew my brother was workholic but this wife hunting thingy is so exhausting." Benedict wiggled his eyebrows, you knew he was being kind but he wasn't helping at all.

" It would have been over if his requirements weren't so high, like he's not looking for a wife but some utopian woman god has yet to create ! " You were ranting, you knew, but this was the only way you could stop yourself from punching Anthony for putting you into this misery.

" Why can't he just fall in love ? " Colin looked at you and Benedict seriously, his mouth covered in crumbs, " Come on, love is like...like a force to be reckoned with ! " He beamed, ofcourse it was a force, didn't Penelope wrote something smiliary in her latest book, you somehow felt your heart shuddering, what would happen if Anthony were to be in love, some intelligent, beautiful woman, some utopian goddess of his, you didn't like the idea one bit, so you laughed it off.

" Brother in love ? " Benedict was in stitches, banging his palm on the table, shaking few very important papers that laid without any significance. They will be probably used as napkin if you weren't there.

" It's not funny." Colin got up, taking his coat, he rolled his eyes when Benedict refused to stop laughing, you shaked your head helplessly as another mail popped up, Jasmine had written a essay about global peace and increasing capatilism, you groaned, damn you Anthony bridgerton!

" Good evening Anthony." You tapped save on your screen as Anthony entered the office, a beak of sweat trickling down his neck line, okay, someone got either fired or roasted down to their very existence, you preferred the former.

" Good evening y/n." He looked up at you, he worried his jaw to say more but decided against it as he settled on his chair, it was very comfy and very big, years of working with him but you couldn't fathom the courage to ever have a taste, perhaps Benedict would help, maybe then.

" There are twelve appointments I have scheduled for tomorrow, Miss Becka—"

" Cancel them."

" What ?! " You almost shouted, you didn't waste your whole day to adjust and fit these pretty woman according to the time and weather and place and Anthony's mood so nothing went wrong, did he just said cancel them like it was nothing, this—

" We are going out Tommorow, it might take all day so cancel them." Anthony ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply, your brain short circuited at the words more and more made some meaning, we ?! Did he, for heaven's sake said we ?

" You and me ? " You blurted and lowered your gaze when his eyes snapped to you, a deep color blazed your nose as you fiddled with your skirt.

" Yes, me and you." He confirmed and you could swore, that was a smile, a small, thin, almost unrecognisable on his always stern face, but that was a smile.

" Why ? " You closed your laptop, tucking the strands of your hair that usually came out after a long day, behind you ear.

Anthony pressed a key and it beeped, he shifted his face to you, thinking that he was almost frowning and finally, he said with a neutral face.

" I have found a match." His face gave nothing away, " Miss Edwina will be most suitable for marriage." He said it like it wasn't his marriage he was talking about, " she's very graceful and witty and would make a amiable wife and a kind loving mot—"

" Right." You snapped mid course, his mouth was hanging open with words lost in void, you knew very well Miss Edwina was a fine young lady, she was beautiful and kind and sharp at wits, ofcourse this ended your torment or perhaps began another, but not now, you needed to think.

" I..I promised Benedict for dinner. " You muttered, feeling your whole body numb as you stumbled out of your seat, Anthony watched, something glazed in his eyes but you couldn't place it, you might if you looked longer but you had no courage left now. You were almost at the glassy door, he was watching you intently and you felt his gaze burn at your back.

" You like my brother quite very much." He startled you, you paused, heart beats echoing through your throat. It was like he was accusing you, almost jabbing his finger on your chest. What does that mean ?

" What could I say ? He's very amiable." You turned to smile at him, it trembled on your lips and Anthony scoffed slightly, mouth curving in disdain but it was gone as soon as it crossed his face. Damn you !

" Have a nice day sir." You closed the door behind you, covering your face as a muffled scream cut through your cartilage.

" Miss Edwina ?! " Benedict almost screamed as you narrowed your eye sternly at him, he lowered his voice in a whisper, ducking his head down towards you, " sorry but Miss Edwina ?! "

" I know, I know." You swigged another gulp of the dizzy bubbling liquid that will give you a terrible headache tommorow but right now, you just wanted this uneasiness feeling to go away.

" Didn't her scary sister vowed to ruin him or something like that ? " Benedict licked his thumb, eye's watering at the spice, you loved this place's Chole bhature very much, last time Benedict cried when he accidentally bited the green masala filled chilly.

" Yeah, she refused to take ahead the Mayfair deal, or something like that, not that it would ruin anything and—" You sighed, leaning back your head as the soft music tickled your senses.

" What ? " You heard his faint murmur.

" Well Anthony was right, as soon as our team announced his engagement, ofcourse not revealing the bride, he's well trending—"

" He's always trending." Benedict groaned, chugging water as his lips were swollen with spiced heat.

" Yes, but not for thirsty things, i meant that Aubreyton is trending and our shares are touching the sky and it's a whole profitable season ahead." You ended breathlessly, you stared at him for full second before both your eye's crinkled with smiles and laughter that came from your hearts, it lightened the air somehow as well as your heart.

" You do remember I am part of the executive board ? " Benedict tilted his head with a warm smile and you shaked your head, feeling tipsy.

" Like you do anything except torment me and poor Colin ! " You pouted, feeling your cheeks flush as Benedict threw his head back and laughed.

" Poor Colin ? " He cooed, " he's probably getting laid tonight." He added with a wink, you slapped his shoulder nervously.

" Penelope replied ? "

" Ofcourse, my dear little brother wrote a whole ass three page message, with a picture of all her books that too hardcover and first editions."

" Wow." You said, impressed, Colin was head over heels, it was only a matter of time since the dazzling author knew.

" And what of Miss Beckett ? " You wiggled your eyebrows like Benedict did when he teased you, he turned a beetroot red as he fumbled with the last contents of his glass.

" She refused for a live in relationship." He said, his face grew sad and you mentally winced for putting him there.

" Oh." You nodded, Sophia lived with her evil mother who liked to see her suffer and she was, afterall, too good of a girl.

" Benedict..." You whispered when he closed his eyes softly, hiding his face behind his palms.

" I am not crying." He was. He sniffed as a few heads turned towards the pair of you, many with sympathy, probably thinking you had refused to marry him or something.

" Hey, hey, hey..." You pulled yourself as you dizzily tripped over to his side, wrapping your arms around him as he melted in your embrace.

" She doesn't understand..." He said it so muffled that it was unable to make out what he said, but you understood it anyway.

" She will, she loves you so much." You kissed his head and he nodded, tears streaking your shirt as he finally emerged with red, sticky face and puppy bright eyes.

" I think i drank too much." He admitted, you nodded, feeling yourself floating too.

" Let's call a cab, we shouldn't drive." You suggested, fiddling with cash as you payed the bill, leaving good tip for the teenager waiter, who smiled kindly at every inner joke Benedict shot.

" Uh huh." He focused hard on his phone, sticking his tongue out like he did when he was really, really drunk and or just really, felt the need to, or he was about to do something stupid, which he did.

Twelve minutes later, Anthony bridgerton was standing outside the restaurant with a heavy frown and it was strange to see him in normal clothes, like that grey t-shirt felt odd yet gorgeous and those sweatpants, you were way too drunk, you realised.

" You'll make a fine gentleman." Anthony curted his mouth, his words dripped with sarcasm that you and Benedict were too drunk to catch on.

" Thankyou, the cab idea was mine." He said smugly, ducking out when you smacked his ass with your purse, Anthony watched with wide eyes.

" Liar." You jabbed at him, he started to giggle and stumbled, taking you along before Anthony grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from him, Benedict winked at you when Anthony closed his eyes, frustration or whatever that dazed him, his touch was electrifying, like current jostling in water.

Anthony pulled away his arms from you, his eyes strained like it pained him just the same it hurt you.

" You are wasting my time brother, get in the car." He glared, " come." He said to you, his gaze softened but that could be alcohol, you weren't reliable narrator especially when it was Anthony bridgerton.

" Well you could have refused." Benedict ran and sprawled inside like a bear, covering the whole back seat with his wasted body.

" Yes well, I didn't come for y—" he clamped his mouth in a thin line, nerve twitching on his forehead as he breathed hard, eyeing you as you ran after Benedict's seat thievery, you opened the door and his head almost snapped when he looked up you, it was a nauseous enough to make you vomit.

" Move." You pulled his hair, in no hell you will sit in the front seat, not like you haven't, but you were drunk and you were angry and you hated Anthony and you wished so much to just, to just, just once, once just, kiss him hard, that's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Leave this idiot." Anthony was suddenly behind you, he touched your elbow with same electric touch, guiding you to the empty front seat as he opened the door, you could feel Benedict wiggling his eye, you will deal with this bastard later.

" I was thinking—" Benedict started, once Anthony started driving, he was shut real quick when Anthony glared with words.

" Stop thinking." Anthony rolled the steering wheel and you looked away, those veins taunted and lured you, it was maddening and the streets were much dull and undistracting.

Benedict giggled at something he probably said in his head, you chuckled when he burped, he did too, only Anthony didn't.

" Don't you have a date tommorow with Mr. Dorset ? " Benedict craned his neck to get a view of you, two Bridgerton's eyes were too much to take as you thought hard, well yes a date, with Mr. Dorset, yes, you did remember.

" Ofcourse." You said, Anthony drifted a turn that jerked your head forward and you would have got a concussion if it wasn't his big palm that came for rescue.

" Are you okay ? " He asked, slowing down the car as his fingers pushed you back until the back of your head was pressed against the seat.

" Yeah." You confirmed, nothing was more threatening than his touch. He should bloody know that.

" Are you okay ? " Benedict mimicked and you realised he was down there, squashed on the car floor, his face hidden somewhere.

Anthony ignored him as his expressions hardened, he was breathing hard as he worried his lips, thinking and thinking.

" You do know it might take all day." Anthony finally said and you cocked your head to his side, you were drunk and well, sleepy too.

" What ? Well, it's a dinner date." You assured, Mr. Dorset wasn't letting go and a Thai curry wouldn't hurt anyway.

" Yes well, it might be very late." He was frowning now, his eyes were on the road but he would glance between nano seconds.

" Really ? " You pouted, you were way too gone now, it didn't matter, Anthony's eyes stopped at your lips and when he looked up, something changed, like it must have changed a long ago but it's colours were only visible now, like moon hiding behind the clouds, beaming but not seen and when it's finally high, hanging at sky, you blinked, expecting it to be gone, like everything, but when you opened your eyes, it was still there, as clear as ever, shimmering at you. That's alcohol, bloody alcohol.

" Yes.." Anthony gulped hard, pulling at Benedict's apartment, how much he wanted sophie to built a home with him, soon, you thought, soon.

" Oi y/n, I think I found your lipstick." Benedict hopped up, his face had lines where because he didn't bother to get up once he had fallen, with a shade that you never used in your whole lifetime, Anthony looked away when you tried to catch his eyes.

" That's not mine." You said, feeling anger creep up your neck, not knowing why, it's not that you were the only one who sat in his car and ofcourse you weren't his girlfriend, you weren't his friend even, he was your boss, you were his assistant, that's it, that's fucking it, you really wanted to punch his face, that's bloody alcohol, you would never drink again.

" Benedict, my brother." Anthony took the lipstick away which Benedict was trying to apply on himself, " get the fuck out."

" Goodbye to you too brother." He leaned to smooch Anthony when he hastily pulled away, growling.

" Bye bye sweetheart." Benedict smooched your cheek then and his lips only touched your warm skin before Anthony pushed him back in the back seat, it was, kinda rough.

" You are drunk." He told Benedict who shrugged, blinking heavily.

"He always kissed me goodbye." You glared at Anthony, this freaking bastard, chew on your lipstick, Idiot. You leaned down to kiss Benedict's cheek and he giggled softly, eyes locked with Anthony, his wide bastard grin flashing, glittering as Anthony eye rolled.

When Benedict was dropped, it was your turn, Anthony stared ahead like a statue, you were suffering in your own head.

The silence became heavy in air as the music was either tragic or too loud for your head and Anthony sensed the discomfort, turning it off altogether.

" What are we going to do actually? Venue deciding or something." You finally spoke, remembering how much you stared and stared when the article popped up, Anthony bridgerton looking for a wife !! You remembered the qualification list, should be well spoken, should be linguistic, should want kids, should be family loving, should be this, should be that, should have good enough hips to bear a child like what ?!

You remembered days and days when he would have his appointments, yes appointments, most of times he was out within five minutes, a frown on his face.

" She doesn't know algebra." He said one time when he came out within two minutes and you shrugged, well algebra was hard afterall.

And now Miss Edwina had ended all your miseries and torture, no lists, no more algebra's and Collen Hoover's, nothing of that anymore, Anthony would be a husband soon and perhaps he would love her, or already love her, he was so determined even when Kate sharma threatened to cut deals with Aubreyton if didn't stop sending flowers, well that was your doing, sending flowers because it was your idea, but well, it didn't matter.

" Well not the venue, but wedding ring and wedding dresses, Mother say we match and cake tasting and flowers—" we.

" When's the wedding ? " You looked at him scornfully, Anthony's eyes lowered at you as he stopped the car.

" Next week." Fuck you Anthony!

" Shouldn't you decide that with Miss Edwina herself ? " You were glad, but you had this feeling that he would be taken away from you, once married, he might not be yours, he was never yours, but still, why not start now ?

He frowned like it wasn't the most sensible and obvious thing.

" I..." He hesitated, " Miss Edwina might not want to go, since the wedding is too near and also, to keep it a private engagement."

" Oh." You didn't get a thing, your mind wasn't working as Anthony leaned down to open your door, you freezed, only your heart thudded loudly, could he hear ? What he did to you, well it wouldn't surprise you if he knew and still chose to torture your poor soul. " Why not state it publicly ? "

" I can't deal with the fanfictions." He said in matter of factly way. " And paparazzi giving Edwina trouble." Don't say her name, don't.

" Fanfictions ?! " You laughed so loud that he actually stopped thinking whatever he was, and just looked at you, as if taking in every detail, savouring them, drinking every bit of you in, he looked like he was mesmerized but that was just alcohol, just your silly heart, just you, who had read all those one shots, about you and him, ofcourse you weren't going to admit it and ofcourse you would be quite dammed if you ever saw Anthony getting shipped with Edwina Sharma, they are getting married in a week idiot, yes, but not today, not now, later, when it was time, please, not now. Later, now he was yours.

" You have a good choice either way." He was, for no reason, walking you to your door, you remembered how Benedict was practically kicked out earlier, he would tease you so much if you were to ever tell him.

" Oh please." You chuckled, rubbing your hands together in the chilly air, " I gifted Benedict onesies on his birthday."

Anthony smiled, it didn't leave his face until he caught you staring and you noticed how different he looked, when those lines were of joy instead of worry, he looked young and his boyishness made your heart do cartwheels.

" That was just a joke." He amused, " wasn't it ? " His smile faltered when you shaked your head in a no, fumbling for you keys.

" It wasn't so bad." Anthony said, somewhat traumatised, " Benedict wore them anyway."

" It had penguins ! " You cringed at the memory, a drunkish Polaroid like, blurred and saturated, it was vivid but just like yesterday, Anthony didn't dance until you were both so drunk, perhaps he smiled back than too, and looked just as dazzling.

" You are good y/n." Anthony said sincerely, " stop being mean to yourself." You opened the door but your hands freezed at the doornob, why Anthony had to cut the right wires, why he had to upside down your whole world ?

" Well, same to you Anthony." You said, he lingered on the doorway more than he should, it was alcohol, it really, really was but no amount of gaslighting could blur the memory away, you always remembered how brave you were that night when you leaned down, one step not much, and placed a small, chaste kiss, just a brush of your lips against his blazing skin. A touch to his soul, it sparkled and rose and busted into a thousand orbs and sprinkled like glitters on you and him.

" Good night." You whispered, Anthony stared, too stunned to say anything, then he smiled, small and enchanting.

" Good night y/n." His smile stayed.

115 notes · View notes

railingsofsorrow · 2 days

Text

death and all of its friends

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: you have an important witness admitted to Grey Sloan Hospital, but things get out of hand in the middle of your questioning. the unsub is on the loose and your team is still on their way. it's the worst that could happen, right? except that you end up stuck in an elevator with your ex. and that is worse. ( slight crossover between GA and CM )

pairing: s.reid x f!bau!reader; past!jackson avery x f!bau!reader

w.c: 5.8K

warnings/content: heavy discussions about trauma regarding a mass shooting; PTSD; the word kill/murder is there a few times; kidnapping; break-ups; heartbreak; anxiety attack; hospitals; claustrophobia; mentions of surgery and blood and gunshot wound (not really graphic); minor character death (mentioned); there is so much drama in this you might call it unnecessary but I just had to unleash the devil in me; suggestive content (near the end); making out; long paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

a/n: ok ok, like I promised (3000 years ago) here it is. enjoy it and please let me know if I forgot to tag anyone!

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━

Five years ago you walked these same halls running from a mass shooter that entered Seattle Grace and caused havoc. Now, instead of Seattle Grace is Grey Sloan and apparently, not only the name of the hospital has changed. Amongst the Attendings, Residents and Interns there were all new faces, which only made sense since it's been five years and some of the people you knew had left and others died.

Cristina Yang nicknamed the hospital Seattle Grace Mercy Death once and after all the stories you've been told by your ex-boyfriend's friends, it seemed fitting.

You liked Cristina's dark humor. She was the funniest person you met in your time in Seattle. You were happy to hear she left to be a cardiothoracic surgeon in Switzerland, and she owned a hospital now, which was great.

As you passed the cafeteria your head was flooded with memories of Lexi pulling you to have lunch with her after she finished a procedure, her excited rambles about every detail inside an OR — she wasn't Lexopedia for nothing — and the juicy gossip she provided you about the relationships inside this hospital (and her relationship with Mark Sloan).

You might not have worked with these people but they felt like family once, the missing will always be there.

Nostalgia had to be left aside for your job though, you had to find an important witness in a case involving the kidnapping of a six-year-old boy. He had been missing for three days, you were running against the clock at this point.

“Miss Howard's room.” The nurse pointed you towards the room and you thanked her with a polite smile. “She's been sedated, so she may not be totally aware of her surroundings yet. She just got out of surgery.”

“Alright, thank you.”

Stab wound to the chest. An argument turned ugly in prison. You recalled Penelope telling you and the team that that was the reason she had been hospitalised. You observed the handcuffs locking her wrist against the bed before approaching.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you grabbed it to see a text from JJ.

Is she awake?

Yes.

You pressed send and looked up at wiped-out blue eyes staring back at you with annoyance. You could hear what she was about to say already.

“I answered all of y'all's questions already, can you people never leave me alone?”

“Miss Howard, I'm with the FBI,” you started, introducing your name and then, proceeding to the hard part.

The crease between her brows told you she was unaware of why you were there. “You people locked me up three years ago what is there to do now? Checking up if I'm killing any more disgusting men who deserved it?”

“Martha, it's about your son, Ben Howard.” The way she immediately froze made your heart clench. Why did it have to be you to give her the news? JJ is way better at doing this, you have no idea of comforting people so you'd rather just not do it. “He's been kidnapped by your husband, Thomas Howard.”

“Ex-husband.” She tried sitting up with difficulty while being handcuffed to the bed. You helped her. “What— No. Ben visited me with my sister three days ago, he's fine. He wouldn't dare touch my boy.”

Ten minutes later into your questioning, your back pocket started to vibrate and you pulled it out to see who it was.

Spencer calling. . .

“Everything you said is very helpful, Miss Howard, we're going to try everything we can to find Ben.”

“Please do.” Her voice cracked and you saw the mask of indifference crumble a little. “He's— he's all I got.”

You nodded, then excused yourself to answer the call outside of the room.

“Hey, I was just about to update you guys—”

“He's in Grey Sloan.” Spencer blurted out the first second you answered. “Thomas Howard is in Grey Sloan. Where are you?”

“What— What about the kid? Did you find him?” You quickly informed the two police officers outside the room to not let anyone else in. “You don't mean he's inside Grey Sloan, right?”

Hotch's voice rang through the line and you knew you were on speaker. “He's going after Martha. We found Ben, he was unarmed but Thomas's endgame is Martha. And yes, he's inside the hospital at this moment. Do you know where Martha is?”

“I just talked to her,” you turned your neck to glimpse at her room again subconsciously. “There are two officers outside her room, I already told them. But Hotch—”

“He's armed, wait for backup.”

“We profiled him as a psychopath, Hotch. He's impulsive and has no remorse or guilt, you know what he's capable of, especially if he let the boy go.”

“Kid, don't be reckless yourself. We're almost there—” Rossi tried to intervene.

“We're almost there.” You heard Spencer's voice and that made you hesitate for a second before hanging up. “Please don't—”

Your heart was thumping hard and rapidly against your ribcage, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. As soon as you felt numbness in your fingers you clenched your hand into fists and let go, this was the way your body warned you you were about to have an anxiety attack. Thankfully, you were able to notice it before it got to the point where you passed out.

Your name was called from afar and you halted, bumping into a nurse and mumbling a shaky sorry. The owner of the voice touched your elbow and you flinched, hand immediately searching for your gun.

“Hey, whoa, it's me, Amelia. I didn't mean to scare you but when I saw it was you I just— it's been five years and you're here!” You withdrew your hand from the holster on your hip, inhaling and exhaling slowly to force your heart to calm the fuck down, you are not in imminent danger.

“Amy,” you smiled and accepted the hug she was eager to give you. “Hi. How are you?”

“I'm great, yeah. And you? For how long are you staying?”

“I'm not. I, uh, I'm here on a case, with the FBI.” You cleared your throat. “Actually, I need your help with something.”

Fifteen minutes later you had already warned most of the staff and Attendings in two floors to keep an eye out for Thomas Howard. You tried slowing your fast pulse by practicing the guided breathing you learned in therapy all those years ago. You did everything your therapist said, every single step from questioning your thoughts to counting everything blue you found in your way.

You couldn't stop memories from revisiting your brain.

━━━━━━━━━

You were waiting to have lunch with him.

It was almost one in the afternoon, Jackson was late because of a surgery that was taking longer than expected due to complications.

It was your day off. One of the rare days you'd appear in Seattle Grace Mercy West before 6 p.m. when your classes at Washington University were over. You were a part of the Psychology department at WU, and a professor for the Undergraduate Program of B.S., Psychology.

It wasn't usual for you to have a day off but given the amount of days you've been accumulating over the year, it was only fair.

So you visited your boyfriend in the hospital, patiently waiting for his belated surgery to end so you could have your lunch date. That was until Lexi Gray pulled you into the hospital's cafeteria and you ended up having lunch with her.

Lexi.

You remember her terrified face when it happened. It had been a terrifying day, one that no one expected. It's funny how tragedies are never announced, isn't it? They just come barging in and you can't just ignore the door, tragedies do not need to knock.

It was in that day, that you understood the gravity of that.

Of course, it wasn't as nearly as bad for you as it was for those who worked at that place. They would have to come back every day and see the walls and that same floor which were smeared with their friends' blood.

Jackson had lost two of his best friends. He spent two months having nightmares screaming their names during the night and getting mad at himself because you weren't able to sleep. That was the least of your concerns back then. You know something that would forever be etched into your brain was the barrel of a gun being pointed at you and the sound of the safety being taken off. You can't even recall the actual shot, only the pain that followed afterward and Jackson's horrified expression as he held your weak body on the floor.

You thought you died. Jackson thought you died. Meredith, Lexi, Cristina and everyone else thought you died. In reality, you had just passed out from blood loss caused by a bullet wound to your chest area.

That must have been terrifying to watch. You couldn't imagine being in his place, you probably would've been crying non-stop at the amount of blood, not saving his life, like he did to you.

During the recovery process, you remember thinking about the absurdity of your dream of becoming an FBI Agent. If you weren't able to control your emotions on situations like that then what's even the point of anything?

According to your therapist, what you suffered didn't determine the person you were, which, at first, you judged as complete bullshit. But you understood in later sessions what she meant by that.

“Is it something you think you are not capable of doing?”

You looked up from your hands, staring into the gray eyes of Isobel Houston. Jackson had made a compelling deal with you. He basically threw in your face that if he, who was threatened with a gun, was doing therapy, you, who had been shot and almost died in his arms, also had to talk about it.

And here you were.

“I'm not sure if I would know how.” You replied, brows twitching with your uncertainty. You were discussing about holding a gun and going out into the field, which was required in the training at the FBI Academy. You told her if you freaked out at the sight of blood then you shouldn't follow through with your decision to become an FBI Agent.

“Well, that's what training is for, isn't it?” Isobel quirked a brow at you, earning a scoff. “You would learn certain abilities and improve the ones you already have in the academy. They wouldn't expect you to know everything.”

“I'm not sure if I can.”

Isobel nodded and wrote something down in the notepad you were planning to steal to see how she was making fun of you in there.

“It is too soon still. But don't rule out your dream career quite yet. You are healing, it's a process that requires patience, both from you and from others around you. You don't have to think about that now. How about you take some time to yourself, focus on healing, getting better first?”

A year later you would be forever thankful for those words. Because you didn't give up of your dream career, you made the decision to follow through with it and it worked.

Partially, at least.

“What do you mean you were accepted?” Jackson put his fork down as he chewed on his salad, tilting his head in confusion at you. “How can you be accepted somewhere if you didn't even apply to it?” The amusement in his tone instantly died as soon as he saw your serious face across from him. He connected the dots. “But you did apply... didn't you?”

"Jack, I've always wanted this."

He offers you a look of disbelief.

"I know! But- You didn't even talk to me and-"

"That's my decision." You cut him off.

"Well, yes, but I'm your boyfriend. I think I deserved to know you were thinking about leaving for four months?"

It caused a rift in your and Jackson's relationship. Back then, you didn't mind the fact that you were kind of doing things on your own, because your only goal was to leave and maybe, just maybe, forget what happened but the scar you had in your chest had to remind you of it. You never told him that, and you blamed him for not wanting you to leave for four months. Selfish; that was what you called him countless times after you broke up before you left. When, in reality, you had been the selfish one in the relationship.

Truth be told, you wanted to forget that part of your life. Your completely foolish mistake and how wrong you were. Your healing had taken years and it still wasn't perfect, you weren't unflinching to the threat of an armed man. Right now, you wanted nothing more than to go back to Virginia and crawl into your blankets to feel some sort of safety.

You had to bring safety to these people when you felt lost and cornered, how fun was that? You felt like such a failure. Years of experience and training going down the drain because of a stupid trauma.

To add to that, you were currently stuck in an elevator. With a reckless man going after your witness. And your team was close to your location but not quite enough.

Maybe they were already here since you had no reception and no way of knowing about their whereabouts.

Maybe they already caught Thomas Howard and Hotch was thinking about his careful words as he fired you for your incompetency.

“Why is it that when I find you you're always leaving?”

Right. You got stuck in an elevator with your ex of all people. It was like everything you did not want to happen would materialize in front of you.

“Jackson," you hissed, rubbing a hand across your face in pure frustration because of the useless phone in your hands. None of the messages were sent. Where were they? How was Martha?

Hey, Spence. Where are you?

I'm stuck in an elevator, fourth floor. I don't know what happened.

You sent those fifteen minutes ago.

“It was just a comment,” Jackson said, shrugging in that infuriating way as if he knew he was right about something. You also knew Jackson Avery's way of deviating from his real problems was to seek anger. And usually, someone was the target. This time, it was you. "What are you doing here?"

You looked down at your bulletproof vest and glanced up at him. Jackson's brows rose up to his hairline in understanding. God, he could be slow sometimes.

"You're with the FBI."

"I am the FBI."

Jackson blinked, "right. Right. Uh, I- Sorry, I-" his apologetic wince made you relax your shoulders. "I'm sorry, I'm just... This is too familiar." Yeah, you could relate to that.

"Jackson," your eyes softened but you tried to reassure him as much as you were able to. "This is not the same thing. His reasoning is completely different. What happened then- It won't happen again."

His bright green eyes study you with a newfound curiosity but you could see some of the tension leave his body.

"You sound sure."

"I am," you said. "My team is close by and they're good. Besides, all of the local cops probably asked for backup already. And SWAT is right outside."

He took a long minute staring you down to nod quietly. The silence that came afterward was uncomfortable. There was so much to say and nothing and the same time. This wasn't the time, but it was inevitable to not think about your last words to each other. You didn't hold a grudge against Jackson, you had no reason to, but he had plenty to do it and you wouldn't blame him.

Fuck, why was this elevator so hot? Why were the walls so close to one another?

"I saw you on TV once."

You swallowed hard, feeling your throat closing up. Your attention drifted towards Jackson's whitecoat.

"I didn't know being in the FBI made you famous." His attempt at joking had you scoffing despite your current state of mind. "I would've made a career exchange if I knew."

"You were already rich, why do you need to be famous?" You mumbled with your eyes shut as you tried to calm your erratic breathing down. "Actually, you were already famous and rich, so anything you just said is..." your voice failed. "… complete bullshit."

He said your name twice and you were obligated to open your eyes. He was much closer and concern tugged his lips downwards.

"Put a hand on your chest and tell me what you can see." You stared at his lips moving slowly as your vision blurred slightly. He said your name more urgently this time. "Put a hand on your chest and tell me what you see."

"Your stethoscope," you said as you stared at it, clearing your throat. "F-flyers," you croaked out, glancing briefly above his shoulders to the flyers splattered around. You couldn't see what they were about, but you knew they were there as they had been since the first time you stepped inside this elevator years ago.

"What can you feel?"

Your fingers drummed against your ribcage. Your breathing slowing down but not quite there yet. "My heartbeat. Mhm... The-my cold necklace." It was always two things. You thought about one and as you searched for another, you would calm down through the process.

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your arms, helping grounding you back to earth.

"Good. Two things you can hear." He was way relieved after your voice stopped shaking.

"Your voice," you uttered, feeling your fingers moving and the sweat dripping down your back. The anxiety diminished little by little. When you were about to say the next thing you could hear, what you could only describe as two loud shots right outside the elevator doors made the both of you flinch and stare at the metal doors with widened eyes.

You immediately got into action, thankfully prioritizing being numb over any other emotion at that moment, which was what you should have done from the start.

"What are you doing?" Jackson asked you confusedly as you tried prying the doors open. "We might not be entirely on the floor-"

"Help me open this, Jackson and I'll figure it out from there."

Just then, your phone came back to life. Reception. At the same time, the doors opened without any human force. You didn't have time to see the caller ID before your gun was drawn in front of you and Jackson, ready to fire.

"Hey, hey, it's me!" The voice you've been craving to hear for half an hour called out your name in front of you. Honey-brown, you thought, locking eyes with Spencer, I can see honey-brown eyes too. "I just got your text, I was looking for you- Hey." He breathed out in your ear as you threw your arms around his neck. His arms squeezed you in comfort. "Are you okay?"

I am now.

Your head bobbed up and down as you leaned back to get some distance. PDA wasn't your forte, but you had been triggered just a few minutes ago, and you needed some comfort from the only person who would effectively provide it to you.

“They got him. He was hidden in one of the on-call rooms on the third floor.” Spencer filled you in before you could ask. He was assessing you thoroughly, looking for any strand of hair out of place, something that would tell him you had gotten hurt.

You placed a hand on his chest, patting it gently. “I'm okay,” you tried reassuring him, eyes traveling through the room until you found some of your coworkers talking with the local police.

“You should drink water.” Jackson's voice startled you a bit and Spencer looked behind you curiously. “And sit down.”

And that comment immediately canceled out Spencer's certainty that you were okay.

“Oh, I'm fine.”

“Anxiety attack.” Jackson mouthed to Spencer out of your eyesight. He moved away to talk to some doctors while Spencer stared at his back, trying to pinpoint where exactly did he knew him from and why he was acting as if he knew you.

But then it clicked.

Jackson Avery. Harper Avery's grandson. Owner of a share of the Grey Sloan Memorial. Plastics surgeon.

Right, of course. And your ex-boyfriend.

“Is Martha okay?”

Spencer looked down at you, blinking. “Uh-huh. Yeah, she's safe.”

You gave him a look, “what?”

“What?” His voice failed, which was a bit embarrassing, really.

“Just spit it out, Spence.”

So, he did.

“Were you stuck in an elevator with Jackson Avery?”

You almost choked up on your own saliva, earning a grimace from your boyfriend. Your concerned and caring boyfriend wasn't making that question because of pure jealousy, he genuinely wanted to know if you were okay after being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend in the same place you got shot by Gary Clark.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here,” Spencer said with a sigh. “I should have come with you. I'm so sorry I wasn't here.”

“Spencer, I'm fine,” you insisted, taking his hand on yours. Fuck it. “Hey, nothing happened in there.”

He knows that but that's not what he meant. Not in that sense.

“I'm not jealous.” He felt the need to clarify. He wasn't immune to jealousy but that was neither the right place nor moment for it. He just wanted to know if the reason for your anxiety attack was just being in a confined space or if the other person you were stuck with had something to do with it. “But you— Did he say something to you? To trigger it?”

It took you a moment to get what he was saying, but once you did, you sighed and pulled him aside away from prying eyes.

“No. I— It was the images. Memories. And the whole thing of being inside an elevator for more than one minute. He didn't do anything. He actually... helped me calm down.”

Spencer brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “okay. Good. And do you feel better now?”

A tender smile twitched the corner of your lips.

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you ready to go?” Hotch approached you and Spencer and you watched Emily, JJ, Derek and Rossi exit the hospital.

“Yes.” But your eyes drifted to the side and you told both of them you'd meet them in the car. “I'll be right there. It won't take long.”

Spencer kissed your temple on his way out.

━━━━━━━━━

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?"

Both of you have been on opposite ends of the room for the past five minutes and none had the courage to break the deafening silence. It should have been you, though. You were the one to ask Jackson for a quick word.

"Why wouldn't I be?" His brows furrowed as he stared at his hands. He seemed deep in thought. You wondered if he was thinking the same as you. It was a long time ago. It was a long time ago but it is somehow very fresh when he's standing in front of me.

Because we never got closure. I didn't let that happen.

"We never talked about it." You sat down in one of the bunk beds, knowing this wouldn't be as fast as both of you liked it to be. Years of a relationship couldn't be fixed in five minutes. You texted Spencer to let him know you'd meet all of them in the motel since the jet would only be available tomorrow anyway, and you didn't want anybody waiting for you.

"We did."

"Talking to our therapists is not the same as communicating to each other." You interjected.

Jackson's gaze flashed with hurt and he looked away.

“I couldn't stay," you said, biting your cheek because it was so hard to admit that out loud.

He finally looked up, tilting his head to look at you. “You couldn't or you wouldn't?”

You clenched your jaw, annoyance seeping through your demeanor. “I wouldn't. It was my dream, it had always been my dream to get into the FBI—into the BAU. I wouldn't give that up. And it's not fair for you to judge me when you know exactly how that feels. Yes, I could have stayed, but I didn't want to.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, standing up to pace around the room. "Yeah, it was pretty clear you didn't want to stay."

"Jackson-"

“Look, I'm not judging. And yes, I do understand. I just think—" He halted and looked at you, green eyes burning into yours. "God, did you have to pack your bags without even talking to me? You made a life-changing decision and you just up and left.”

Your breath hitched, and something in your chest churned painfully. Guilt, probably. Five years and you hadn't uttered the words he deserved once.

"I'm sorry." You swallowed with difficulty. "Jackson, I- What I did was unfair and I'm so incredibly sorry for hurting you. You deserved more than that."

"I've forgiven you a long time ago," Jackson confessed, uncrossing his arms and angling his body towards you. "It's been five years. Those words have been bottled up in my throat since the moment you walked out... but I don't hate you."

You winced, "but you did hate me."

Amusement travels through his face. "For a bit, yes."

"Fair."

"I'm sorry too."

You gave him a sad smile. "You didn't leave me, Jackson."

"No, but I said some pretty hurtful things to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Mhm, okay." You nodded, shifting on your feet. “You're forgiven too, I guess.”

Jackson offered his hand for a handshake...? You glanced down at it, holding back a laugh because of how awkward he was being. You shook his hand, grinning with a shake of your head.

Yeah, that could be closure.

“I saw you on TV,” Jackson repeated what he said before but you weren't exactly alright to actually hear it. “Are you giving out autographs?”

“I'm giving out this, does it work for you?” You flipped him off. A nurse passed by you and gave you an ugly look while Jackson just smirked.

━━━━━━━━━

As soon as you walked through the doors of Grey Sloan Memorial, exiting the hospital, your eyes caught the back of a familiar lanky figure whose light brown curls waved wildly with the harsh wind of Seattle.

When you got close enough, you heard an indignant edge to your boyfriend's tone. He was speaking on the phone. Your amusement grew when you realized was on the other line, pissing him off.

“Yeah, you know what, Derek?” Spencer started but cut himself off upon seeing you arrive at his side. “You're back.” His annoyed tone switched to something softer.

“What's he pissing you off about now?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Tell him I'll slap his bald shiny head if he doesn't stop.”

Spencer snorted, covering his mouth. You could hear Derek's telling you to fuck off through the phone before Spencer hung up the call.

You accepted the urge to pull him close to you by wrapping both of your arms around his middle and lowering your head to his chest. His immediate response was to bury his face in the croak of your neck, the cold tip of his nose grazing your skin made you squirm a little.

“I thought I told you not to wait for me.”

Spencer rubbed your back, leaning back slightly to look down at you.

“I wasn't gonna let you drive back on your own.”

You chuckled, “are you telling me I'm a terrible driver?

He hummed, lips quirking up when he kissed the tip of your nose. “You're not as terrible as me.”

“I'm not sure if that can be classified as a compliment, angel. But you're right, nobody is a worse driver than you.”

A pinch in your hip made you whine. He started laughing as you gave him a playful shove before getting in the car. Driver's seat. You had to prove a point.

“How are you?” Spencer asked after a long minute of being silent and you knew he'd be dying to ask that.

“I'm okay.” You told him, giving his thigh a soft squeeze as you concentrated on leaving the parking lot.

“How did it feel?”

You stopped at a red light. The motel was about fifteen minutes from the hospital by car, and you wouldn't go back home today, the jet was only going to be available tomorrow.

“Suffocating.” You laughed after you admitted it out loud. That was how you felt. “Yeah, that's about it. The moment I stepped inside Grey Sloan I felt cornered.”

“That's understandable.” Spencer caressed the back of your hand before you had to pull it back to move the car gear. “You haven't been there for five years. You may have seen, smelled, felt, or touched something that triggered you to go back to that very moment. Even though triggers are usually harmless, they cause your body to react as if you're in danger.” He explained, causing your mouth to quirk upwards in amusement. “Which was why I wanted to be there with you.”

“Hey, that wasn't your fault. And I'm not a little girl anymore, I can get a grip on myself, Spence. We were doing our jobs.”

From the corner of your eye, you were able to see him lean back on the seat with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, yes, I know but I wanted to be there with you. You know just... be there.”

You parked in the motel's parking lot, turning the car off. You inhaled heavily before turning to Spencer, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. Your boyfriend hummed in satisfaction, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

“What was that for?” He blinked bleary, voice slightly dazed after your surprise kiss. Your insides turned to mush and fondness overtook your body.

“I love you,” you said, thumb running across his cheek lovingly. “like... a lot.”

His eyes sparkled at your statement and he started smiling like an idiot. An idiot head over heels for you.

“Like a lot?”

“Like a lot.”

A harsh tap on your window made your body jerk and you hit your knee against the steering wheel, a loud curse slipping past your tongue.

Spencer lowered the car window with a glare.

“Alright, lovebirds. We're going out to the bar across the street to have a little fun. Are you coming or what?” Derek dipped his head as his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “Was I interrupting something?”

“How are you so annoying—”

“There is no scientific explanation for that, angel.” You pat Spencer's shoulder, who huffed while getting out of the car. He was immediately wrapped in a side hug by Derek as you locked your car and followed them both down the street, where the rest of your team waited.

Emily snorted, nudging JJ with her arm. “Told you he was going to cockblock them.”

“Emily,” Hotch said sternly, but his mouth betrayed him with a little smile.

“C'mon, pretty boy.” Derek dragged Spencer to the bar as you followed them inside. “Let's drink the night away to make you forget about seeing your girl's ex, who has the greenest eyes I've ever seen—”

Your lips parted in astonishment.

“Hey!” JJ warned him. “Stop that. C'mon, leave him alone you've teased him enough with this.”

Spencer looked at you, lips pulling into a smile at the scowl you were sending Derek as he walked away with JJ and Emily beside him.

“It's alright,” Spencer mumbled, nudging you to a corner as your team scattered around to find a table for eight. “He's just playing around and I'm not threatened by light-colored eyes, anyway. They're overrated.”

You huffed out a laugh, surprised at his nonchalant claim.

"Good." You were so close that your breaths mixed, his eyes falling to your lips and rising to your eyes again. You pulled him flush against your body by the belt loops of his pants, earning a shaky exhale from his parted soft lips. "Cause... You know," you pressed a kiss against his jaw. "There's nothing you should be threatened about. I'm pretty certain of that."

"You are?" Spencer realized how pathetic he sounded and how needy he was starting to look.

"I am, angel," you reaffirmed in his ear, leaning forward to kiss him. Before it got too heated, you smirked against his lips, pushing him away gently as he groaned in protest. "Okay, we can pick this up later tonight, now let's celebrate a bit with them, yeah?"

Spencer sighed, burying his face into your neck for a second and drawing it back to glance at the table their friends chose. It was in a corner of the room, across from where they were currently... talking.

"Okay."

"Don't sound too excited."

"Shut up," he grabbed one of your hands and pulled around his hip at the same time his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders. "You know what I'm excited about-" he pretended to cough upon gaining a light slap on his back as a warning for him to shut up before any of your friends could hear the implication his words were carrying.

As soon as you arrived at the table, Emily placed a shot before you, claiming you were late for the party. You smiled apologetically at the brunette, bringing the vodka shot to your lips and downing it in one go, gaze locked to your boyfriend's beside you. Oh, this was going to be a long night.

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taglist: @lvtilzs ; @inexplicableeee ; @fkapluto ; @nellxsies

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #jackson avery x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x grey's anatomy crossover

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stolitzsings · 2 days

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It's just SO fucking good and so fucking gutwrenching how much sense both of their mistakes make for them

And how backed into a corner both of them felt

It's completely understandable that Blitz would feel blindsided by Stolas’s confession- from his perspective it's coming out of nowhere

But this is something Stolas has been wrestling with for months now, and it's slowly killing him. He starts off his day with an anxiety vomit bc of how stressed he is about this conversation, and he also thinks this might be his one and only chance to tell Blitz how he feels. He's giving Blitz the crystal, no strings attached, so for all he knows he might not ever see Blitz again after tonight. He needs to lay it all out there if he wants Blitz to understand

Also Stolas has been trying to show Blitz he cares for so long: inviting him to hang out for things, suggesting movies and comfort after the turmoil of Ozzie's, letting Blitz take the lead on whether to see him for the full moon each month, plus everything Blitz mentioned to Fizz! Liking his pictures and asking him how he is and all those things that Blitz dismissed because he simply couldn't fathom that Stolas would actually be interested in him. Stolas has been giving him space and checking in on how he's feeling and offering to talk about things, presumably for months now, all in a bid to show Blitz they could have more than a transactional relationship.

And he'd been hyping himself up to have this conversation, telling himself it could go great! Maybe Blitz would be just as happy as he was! Maybe he felt the same and this would all work out!

But even though Blitz does care about him, he's fucking terrified to show or even acknowledge it, because feelings mean getting hurt. And he's been shutting himself off from the possibility of Stolas having those feelings for months as well. He can't allow himself to hope for anything more, and anyway it would just complicate things, so best to stick to nice, safe sex stuff like he's sure Stolas wants to anyway.

So he completely misses all the times Stolas is trying to give them a way forward, and as a result he just can't believe Stolas’s confession could be real. And then he REALLY fucks up. This has to be a sex thing, right? The one thing he's convinced himself Stolas wants, especially tonight? He's thinking "there's no way anyone could love me like this," but all Stolas hears is "there's no way YOU could love me like this."

Because while Blitz has been shutting out any hope that Stolas could love him, Stolas has been CLINGING to scraps of hope that Blitz might love him, in order to give himself the strength to have the conversation they're having now. I don't think he understands why Blitz wouldn't leap at the chance to believe him.

To Stolas, this is confirmation that Blitz still sees their relationship as the same as it was after Ozzie's, when he said their relationship was just sex and Stolas SAW how unhappy he was. Clearly, Blitz still feels this whole thing is about Stolas wanting Blitz to fuck him, and it's not fair to keep him trapped in that dynamic. He thinks the conversation is over, he has his answer because Blitz wasn't happy then so he clearly isn't happy now.

Stolas spends the rest of the scene trying to bow out gracefully. He thanks Blitz for changing his life and tries to escape before he really breaks down. Remember, he's going through an acrimonious and, to be frank, VIOLENT divorce right now, with the person that he's terrified of becoming in his relationship with Blitz. He would do anything to get out of his shitty relationship quietly, so clearly the kindest thing he could do is let Blitz go without making a fuss.

But Blitz is only just realizing that he read the situation so wrong. When he chases after Stolas, Stolas might see it as just another person following him around his house to yell at him. For Blitz, though, he's scared, he's angry at Stolas for springing this on him, and he feels like Stolas is trying to discard him because of one dumb thing he just did. Stolas doesn't know how many times Blitz has been dropped before because of one fuckup. He doesn't get how close he's gotten to Blitz's past trauma. Meanwhile Blitz is trying to get Stolas to give him a second to figure shit out, to just stick with him and not expect him to have all the answers right away.

And when Stolas doesn't give him that, because he's convinced that Blitz is still unhappy and is now just trying to make this hurt as little as he can, Blitz retreats back into anger. Finally Stolas is discarding him just like he always knew he would eventually. Their relationship has been such a rollercoaster for both of them and he just needs a little time, dammit! So now this feels like just another case of someone throwing him away for not living up to their expectations.

Stolas can't hear him asking for time, though. All he sees is Blitz following him to curse him out, to yell about how shitty he is, just like Stella has always done. And Blitz is right!!! Stolas was so crushed by the initial rejection that he didn't give Blitz the space he needed to process things. Blitz wants to talk and yell and fight through things and get all the shit out there. But Stolas is so focused on holding himself together for just a little longer.

Stolas's biggest fear was that he'd trapped Blitz in their arrangement, and the way Blitz tries to ask for time and engagement unfortunately hits directly on that. Blitz is yelling that Stolas doesn't get to just dismiss him, he deserves a chance to be heard and to figure shit out, and to have an actual conversation about this. But Stolas fixates on Blitz’s accusation that he's treating him like a servant, and assumes that he's referring to their entire relationship. It confirms, in his mind, that Blitz was never with him willingly and would never want to be with him willingly.

And it must hurt so much to hear Blitz call him a "pompous, rich asshole" in that moment, when he has been trying so hard to be selfless about this. He made himself so vulnerable with this confession and the gift of the crystal. He put everything he had out in the open. But if Blitz thinks he's an asshole, well, there's no way he could share his feelings, right? He's being vulnerable, and probably expected Blitz to do the same and lay his true feelings out there as well. And Blitz really is trying, but he's still using anger and insults because they're familiar and safe. PLUS there's the added panic of "Oh fuck, how badly did I hurt him that he thinks of me like this?"

Stolas doesn't know how many times Blitz has been abandoned for fucking something up, and Blitz doesn't know how many times Stolas has had to shut down and endure tirades of abuse he couldn't escape from. Stolas thinks he's done all of this and Blitz still can't see him as anything but a stuck-up, frigid jerk. And if this desperate, grand gesture wasn't enough to get Blitz to see how much he cares, well, what hope is there?

He's still reeling from what he perceived as Blitz’s mockery of the very idea that Stolas could care for him. He tried to leave peacefully but Blitz won't let him bow out, still wants to yell at him and tell him how shitty he is, won't even give him the dignity of breaking down in private. Never mind that those weren't Blitz’s intentions at all. Stolas was so scared, so tentative about this, that Blitz’s almost inevitable incredulous/messy reaction was bound to hurt.

Both of them are working off their own assumptions, their low opinions of themselves, and their past traumas, and can't see enough of each other's histories to understand that's what they're doing.

#blitzø #stolitz #stolas goetia #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss the full moon #helluva boss meta

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emjayewrites · 1 day

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Just Between Us - LH44

SYNOPSIS: Sometimes two is better than one....

PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem!OC (Sydney "Syd") x Miles Chamley-Watson

WARNINGS: sexual content, cursing, flirting, threesome. MINORS DNI (18+ only)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @perfecttrashface

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The woman I linked to be a face claim for Sydney was something I've found on Pinterest. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Miles couldn't stop thinking about Sydney. She was perfect - beautiful, funny, intelligent. Everything that Miles wished he could find in a girlfriend. But there was one big problem - Sydney was already dating his best friend Lewis.

Miles had been trying to ignore his growing feelings for Sydney, but it was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day. Lewis was a great guy and an amazing boyfriend who treated Sydney with the utmost love and respect. He cherished her and their relationship in a way that Miles couldn't help but admire.

Yet as much as Miles cared for Lewis, he couldn't deny the crackling chemistry he felt with Sydney, their comfortable banter, the way she just seemed to "get" him. Every time the three of them hung out, Miles found himself staring at Sydney, getting flustered anytime she so much as glanced his way. He would distractedly nod along as Lewis and Sydney playfully bantered, Miles only half-listening as he studied the curve of her lips as she laughed.

He knew it was wrong to have these feelings about his best friend's girl. The bro code should have prevented Miles from developing feelings for her, yet Miles couldn't deny this profound connection with Sydney that felt like they were soulmates, as stupid as that sounded. Miles spent nights lying awake, torturing himself by imagining what it would be like to actually be with Sydney. To hold her hand, to run his fingers through her hair, to caress her soft skin. Would she taste just like the jasmine and citrus perfume she adored? How would her gentle curves feel under his embrace?

Lewis had noticed the way Miles reacted whenever Sydney was around. At first, it angered him - how could his supposed best friend be eyeing up his girlfriend like a piece of meat? But the more Lewis observed their interactions, the more he realized he couldn't exactly blame Miles.

Sydney just had that effect on men. She was gorgeous, with curves in all the right places, sun-kissed brown skin, and a brilliant smile that could make anyone's knees go weak. But it was her fun, effervescent personality that really drew people in, coupled with her whip-smart sense of humor. Lewis knew he was a lucky bastard to have landed such an incredible woman.

They had been dating for over a year now, and the passion between them showed no signs of cooling off anytime soon. In the bedroom, Sydney could barely contain her insatiable appetite, revealing a ravenous side that wildly contrasted her sweet, girl-next-door exterior. Lewis grinned remembering last night's escapades - Sydney was an absolute freak between the sheets, and she was always keen on doing more, which Lewis loved to oblige.

As they readied for the next Grand Prix race in Australia, Lewis couldn't help but notice the subtle way Miles' eyes lit up at the prospect of spending more time around Sydney while he had to handle pre-race duties.

"Babe, you know I hate leaving you alone in the paddock," Lewis murmured huskily as he pulled Sydney flush against his toned body. "Especially looking as gorgeous as you do in that little sundress."

His hands roamed appreciatively down the curve of her spine to grope her firm ass. Sydney let out a soft giggle, arching herself into him.

"You know Miles will keep me entertained while you're handling your racing responsibilities," she purred, batting her long lashes up at him innocently. "He's such a sweetheart."

Lewis threw a sidelong glance over at his best friend, who was studiously avoiding eye contact but failing miserably to hide how his gaze kept dropping to Sydney's cleavage. Miles shifted awkwardly, adjusting the front of his shorts, and it made Lewis inwardly smirk, thoughts already formulating on something worthwhile between the three of them.

"That's what I'm worried about," Lewis chuckled. "You two troublemakers alone is bound to lead to no good."

"Me? A troublemaker?" Sydney gasped in mock offense, bringing a delicate hand up to her chest. "Why, I'm just an innocent young thing!"

The low-cut neckline of her gauzy white sundress gaped open temptingly with the gesture. Both Lewis and Miles couldn't tear their eyes away from the tantalizing glimpse of her luscious breasts, the tawny peaks of her nipples straining against the thin fabric.

Lewis continued to squeeze Sydney's ass firmly, pulling her even closer until she could feel his growing arousal pressing into her belly. He claimed her mouth in a torrid open-mouthed kiss, his tongue delving aggressively to taste her. When they finally broke apart, Sydney was flushed and breathless, her lips swollen from his intensity. Lewis slowly dragged his gaze over to Miles, taking in his friend's dazed expression, the tent in his khaki shorts.

"Keep an eye on her for me, bro," Lewis smirked. "This one's a total handful."

He slapped her ass one last time, then sauntered off, leaving Miles alone with the gorgeous temptress. Sydney blinked a few times, still flustered from Lewis' passionate kiss as she regarded his friend with a shy smile.

"So…" she began slowly. "What should we get into while Lewis is gone?"

Miles swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from Sydney's tantalizing form. She was a goddess in that little sundress, and his eyes were drawn inexplicably to the swell of her breasts straining against the flimsy fabric.

"Uh…w-whatever you want," he stammered out, mentally kicking himself for sounding so lame.

Sydney's smile widened as she took a step closer, giving Miles an enticing view straight down her dress. He felt his mouth go dry as her cleavage was put enticingly on display.

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" She looped her arm through his, pulling him along. "Corn dogs! I'm starving."

Miles blinked in surprise but allowed himself to be led towards the nearby corn dog stand. As they waited in line, Sydney chatted animatedly about her plans to finally open her own event planning business after years of slugging it out in corporate gigs she hated.

"Lewis has been so supportive," she gushed. "He's really pushing me to take the leap and pursue my passion."

"That's awesome, Syd," Miles replied with a warm smile, genuinely happy for her. "You're gonna kill it."

She beamed at his encouragement before turning a bit more somber. "The hard part is, I can't really eat stuff like this around Lewis." She gestured to the corn dog stand wistfully. "He's so strict about being vegan. Which I totally respect! But I do miss the fun fast food sometimes."

"Well, what Lewis doesn't know won't hurt him," Miles said with a wink, signaling for two corn dogs piled high with chili and cheese. "Your dirty little secret is safe with me."

Sydney laughed delightedly, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze as she accepted her treat. They found a nearby picnic table to settle at, Sydney closing her eyes rapturously as she took a big bite of the crispy battered frank.

"Oh my god, that's so good," she moaned around her mouthful. She opened her eyes to catch Miles staring at her fixedly. "What?"

He cleared his throat, refocusing his gaze. "Nothing, just…you looked really happy there for a sec."

"I am," she smiled warmly at him. "Thanks for keeping me company, Miles. It's always fun hanging with my favorite fencer."

Miles felt a flush of pleasure at her words. "Speaking of, you know I'll be competing in the Summer Olympics in Paris this year, right? Gotta start mentally preparing myself to kick some French butt."

Sydney laughed that bright, melodious laugh that never failed to make his heart stutter. "I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines, as always."

"So have you settled on a name for your company yet?" Miles asked between bites of his chili-smothered corn dog.

"I'm thinking 'Exquisite Events by Sydney'," she replied, wrinkling her nose adorably. "Though Lewis says that's way too on-the-nose."

Miles barked out a laugh. "Well, I think it's perfect. When people see you've planned their wedding or party or whatever, they'll definitely remember a name like that."

Sydney's eyes sparkled with delight at his vote of confidence. "You always did have my back, Miles."

She reached across the picnic table to playfully nudge his arm. Miles's breath caught in his throat at her innocent touch, his eyes involuntarily dropping to her parted lips, still glistening with a stray smear of chili sauce.

Get it together, man, he scolded himself, dragging his gaze back up. This is your best friend's girl you're undressing with your eyes.

As if reading his mind, Sydney spoke up hesitantly. "You know Lewis and I both care about you so much, right Miles? You're like a brother to us."

Miles felt his face flush hotly at her words, a tight knot forming in his stomach. Of course she just saw him in a brotherly light - how could he let himself think anything else? He was Sydney's boyfriend's best friend, and that's all he'd ever be to her.

Clearing his throat roughly, he forced himself to respond lightly. "Haha yeah, you two really are stuck with me as the annoying third wheel, huh?"

Sydney laughed that bright, tinkling laugh that Miles loved, giving his arm a fond squeeze. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Miles managed a genuine smile back at her, ignoring the slight pang in his chest. Having Sydney in his life as a friend was better than not having her at all. He'd learned to accept that was all they'd ever be.

For now, he thought to himself as he gazed warmly at Lewis's girl. There was still a part of him that hoped, one day.

The mood was subdued as Lewis, Sydney, Miles, and Spinz arrived back at their hotel after the Australian Grand Prix. Lewis had DNF'd due to mechanical issues, furious at another race gone to waste through no fault of his own. He stayed mostly quiet through dinner, his jaw tensed in restrained anger.

Now back in their suite, they settled in to half-watch a movie together on Netflix, though the tension was still palpable. Spinz checked his watch and stood up with a stretch.

"All right, I should get going - early flight back to Toronto tomorrow to check on my mom," he announced.

After they said their goodbyes, Spinz headed out, leaving Sydney, Lewis, and Miles alone. Miles was sprawled out on the L-shaped couch, while Lewis and Sydney cuddled together on the opposite end. As the movie droned on, Miles could see Lewis's hands start to roam over Sydney's body out of the corner of his eye.

He trailed his fingers lightly up Sydney's bare thigh, drawing teasing circles over her soft skin. She shot Lewis a warning look and hissed under her breath, "Lewis! Miles is right there."

"So?" Lewis murmured back lowly. "It's not like he hasn't seen us be affectionate before."

Miles pretended not to hear their hushed exchange, keeping his eyes trained forward on the TV screen even as heat crept up his neck.

"Miles couldn't care less," Lewis said louder, making Miles's head snap over. "Hell, he probably gets off on it, the little perv has such a crush on you, babe."

"Lewis!" Sydney looked mortified, smacking his chest as she shot Miles an apologetic look. "That's not true, is it Miles?"

All eyes were suddenly on him. Miles felt like a deer caught in the headlights as he struggled to find his voice.

"Uh…I…um…" he stammered uselessly.

Sydney's eyes went wide as Miles failed to actually deny Lewis's claim. "Oh my god, you do have a thing for me, don't you?"

"What? No! I mean…" Miles could feel his entire face going red as he trailed off lamely.

Lewis let out a bark of laughter, not bothering to hide his amusement at his friend's predicament. He pulled Sydney more tightly against him, purposely letting his hand drift up to brazenly cup her breast.

"Don't worry about it, man," Lewis said with a cocky grin. "I'd probably have a crush on my girl too if I was you."

Lewis kissed Sydney's neck, his lips brushing against her skin with an intensity that made her shiver. Nearby, Miles watched on, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and curiosity. Sydney's hands tried to tear Lewis off of her, her voice trembling as she asked, "What are you doing?"

Lewis stopped kissing her neck, glancing at her, then over at his friend. "Do you like Miles, baby?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Sydney was at a loss for words, her mind racing to make sense of what was happening. "Of course, I do. He's our—"

But Lewis interrupted her, his gaze unwavering. "Beyond that. Don't you think Miles is handsome?"

Sydney looked at Miles, giving him a small, hesitant smile. "Of course he is. Any woman can tell that he's handsome. Lewis, what is the point of this?"

Lewis licked his lips, his eyes darkening with desire. "Remember when you said that you wanted a threesome?" Sydney nodded her head slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. "How about we have some fun with Miles?" Lewis suggested, his tone dripping with anticipation.

Miles's eyes widened further, his gaze locking with Sydney's. There was a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes — excitement, maybe, or a deep, simmering desire that mirrored Lewis's.

Sydney's voice trembled as she declared, "That's your best friend, Lewis. He's practically your brother."

Lewis's smile was slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. "Which makes it good, yes? We trust Miles, we love Miles. You think Miles is attractive. Makes sense to me."

Miles inched a bit closer, his gaze intense as it flickered between Lewis and Sydney. "Are you serious, man?" he asked, his voice low and incredulous.

Lewis nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of mischief and earnestness. "Absolutely. We trust you, Miles. I want this, Sydney wants this. Syd, what do you say?"

Sydney's heart raced as she looked between the two men, feeling the weight of the moment. Miles's eyes held hers, a silent question lingering there, as if he was asking for her permission, her final approval.

Slowly, Sydney nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."

Lewis's grin widened, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek. "Good girl," he murmured, before turning his gaze to Miles. "Are you going to sit there being weird or are you going to move closer?"

Miles was still stuck motionless, his hesitation palpable. Lewis clicked his teeth in annoyance before his lips descended on Sydney's once more, the kiss searing and demanding. Miles watched for a moment longer, his internal struggle evident, before finally stepping forward. His hand gently rested on Sydney's shoulder as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and he planted a chaste kiss on her temple.

Sydney's heart raced, her senses overwhelmed by the dual sensations. She could feel the heat radiating from Lewis's body, the intensity of his kiss, while the gentleness of Miles's touch provided a stark contrast. The blend of both their touches sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling within her.

Sydney turned her head, capturing Miles's lips in a tentative kiss. It was soft and exploratory, the taste of him different but equally intoxicating. She could feel Lewis's eyes on them, his hands roaming her body with a possessive hunger.

The moment felt surreal, like a dream she hadn't dared to fully imagine. The forbidden thrill of it all made her pulse quicken, a heady mix of adrenaline and desire. She pulled back slightly, looking at both men with a newfound boldness in her eyes.

"This is… unexpected," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with anticipation.

Lewis's gaze was dark and intense. "Sometimes the best things are," he murmured, his fingers tracing a path down her arm. "How do you feel, baby?"

Sydney took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "It feels… amazing. Strange, but amazing," she confessed, her eyes flicking between them.

Miles finally spoke, his voice low and filled with a mix of emotions. "Are you sure about this, Syd?" His hand squeezed her shoulder gently, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt.

Sydney nodded, a determined smile curving her lips. "I'm sure. I want this. I want both of you."

Lewis grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's all I needed to hear."

With that, he leaned in to kiss her again, his lips claiming hers with a fierce hunger. Sydney's hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. She felt Miles's hand slide down her back, his touch sending electric sparks through her skin. When she broke the kiss with Lewis to turn to Miles, she kissed him with equal fervor, her tongue dancing with his as she explored the new sensation of his lips.

The room seemed to close in around them, the rest of the world fading away as they lost themselves in each other. Sydney could feel the heat building between them, an undeniable connection that pulsed with every touch, every kiss. She was caught between the two men, reveling in the attention and the way they made her feel alive and desired.

Lewis's touch was rougher and more insistent, while Miles's caresses were gentle and exploring. The contrast heightened her senses, making every touch, every kiss more intense. They moved in sync, undressing her slowly, reverently, as if unveiling a precious gift.

Sydney's moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure as Lewis kissed a trail down her neck, and Miles's lips followed the curve of her shoulder. They took their time, savoring every moment, every sensation.

Miles cupped her breasts, his hands gentle but firm as he stared at them with adoration. His thumb brushed over her nipple before he leaned in to take it into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the hardened nub. Sydney gasped, arching into his touch.

Meanwhile, Lewis's hands trailed lower, skimming over her hips and down to the apex of her thighs. His fingers stroked the juncture of her panty-covered pussy, teasing her through the thin fabric. "You're so wet, baby," he murmured against her ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

Sydney's breath hitched, a moan escaping her lips as she felt him move her panties aside. His fingers found her wet folds, sliding through her slick heat with expert precision. "Lewis," she whispered, her voice a mixture of pleading and pleasure.

Miles glanced up from her breast, his eyes dark with lust. "I think we should take this to the bedroom," he suggested, his voice husky.

Lewis nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Agreed. Let's make you even more comfortable, love."

Together, they helped Sydney up, leading her to the bedroom. The light from the streetlights of Melbourne played against her skin, casting a soft glow that made her look ethereal. Miles couldn't take his eyes off her, his gaze filled with awe and desire.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Lewis asked, his voice filled with admiration.

Miles nodded, his eyes never leaving Sydney. "The most gorgeous woman I've ever seen."

They made out again, their kisses heated and desperate. Sydney felt her knees go weak as she was caught between their bodies, their hands roaming over her skin, igniting every nerve ending.

With trembling hands, she undressed them, her fingers fumbling slightly in her haste. When she finally freed them from their clothes, she looked down to see Miles' erect penis for the first time, her eyes widening slightly at the sight. She felt a thrill of excitement at what was to come.

Sydney knelt before them, her hands wrapping around their lengths as she looked up at them with a sultry smile. She began with Miles, her tongue darting out to taste him before taking him fully into her mouth. His groan of pleasure spurred her on, and she bobbed her head, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Lewis watched with dark, hungry eyes, his hand tangling in her hair as she switched to him. She gave him the same attention, her mouth working him skillfully as his hips bucked slightly. They both groaned, their sounds of pleasure mingling in the air, driving her wild.

Sydney's thoughts were a blur of sensation and desire, her body humming with need. She was lost in the moment, in the way their bodies responded to her, and the thrill of being the center of their attention. It was everything she had fantasized about and more.

Lewis pulled her up, kissing her fiercely as Miles pressed against her back, his hands roaming her body. "I want to taste you, too," Lewis murmured against her lips, his eyes dark with promise. He led her to the bed, laying her down gently as he kissed a path down her body, pausing at her breasts to suck and lick each nipple before continuing lower.

Miles joined him, his hands and mouth everywhere, exploring and worshipping her body. Sydney's moans filled the room as they worked in tandem, driving her to the brink of ecstasy. She had never felt so desired, so completely consumed by pleasure.

The room filled with the heady scent of arousal as Miles and Lewis took turns devouring Sydney’s pussy. Their tongues explored her folds, each lick and suck sending shivers through her body. Miles's mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking over her clit with practiced precision, while Lewis's strong hands held her thighs apart, his tongue delving deep into her. The combination of their efforts drove her to the edge, her moans growing louder with each passing second.

Sydney’s body trembled, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. With a final, shuddering cry, she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The men didn't stop, their tongues continuing their assault, prolonging her pleasure until she was a quivering mess.

Lewis pulled back first, a satisfied grin on his face. He reached over to the bedside table, retrieving a box of condoms. He handed one to Miles, who took it with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

Lewis's voice was low and teasing as he asked, "Want to try Sydney out first?"

Miles's answer was immediate, his voice thick with desire. "Fuck yeah."

Both men helped Sydney move, guiding her to straddle Miles. She positioned herself above him, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. Lewis watched with dark, lustful eyes, his hands moving to his own cock, rolling on a condom and stroking himself as he watched.

Miles kissed every inch of exposed skin he could reach, his hands caressing her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice filled with awe and desire. "I can't believe this is happening."

Sydney felt the head of Miles's cock press against her, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered herself onto him. They both moaned at the sensation, their bodies finally joining after so much teasing and anticipation.

Miles's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as she began to ride him. His eyes were locked onto her, filled with a mixture of lust and disbelief. Each touch, each kiss, each thrust was a reminder that this was real, that he was inside her, and it drove him wild.

Lewis moved closer, his own need evident in his intense gaze. "You look so good together," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I can't wait to join in."

Sydney glanced back at Lewis, her eyes dark with lust as she rode Miles. The pleasure was overwhelming, but the promise of what was to come made her even more eager. "Why are you sitting over there then?"

Lewis let out a chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "I like watching you, baby. You look so good riding Miles' dick."

Miles groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he thrust up into her. "Feels amazing," he panted, his eyes locked onto Sydney's. "So tight and wet."

"She's got the best pussy," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration, as he moved behind her. He placed a series of kisses along her neck, his other hand trailing down her spine to her ass. "But I think it's time we give her a bit more."

Sydney moaned, the anticipation making her even wetter. She leaned forward, bracing herself on Miles's chest, as Lewis's fingers began to tease her other entrance. He spread her cheeks, his thumb gently circling her tight ring of muscles.

"Relax, baby," Lewis whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Just let me in."

She nodded, her body trembling with desire. Lewis applied more lube, his fingers working her open slowly, preparing her for what was to come. Sydney gasped as he inserted a finger, the sensation strange but not unpleasant. He moved it in and out, adding another finger to stretch her further.

Miles watched with rapt attention, his cock buried deep inside her. "You okay, Syd?" he asked, his voice thick with concern and desire.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice shaking with anticipation. "I want this."

Lewis smirked, his fingers working her open. "Such a good girl," he praised. He positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her newly prepared entrance. "Just take it slow."

Sydney bit her lip, leaning forward further to accommodate him. She felt the pressure as Lewis began to push in, her body stretching to take him. The sensation was intense, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort, but she trusted Lewis and Miles completely.

"You're doing so well," Lewis murmured, kissing her neck as he continued to slide in. "Just relax and breathe."

Sydney took a deep breath, her body adjusting to the dual sensations. Miles thrust up into her, his movements slow and measured, while Lewis continued to press into her from behind. The combination was mind-blowing, and she felt herself being filled completely.

Finally, Lewis was fully seated inside her, his hands gripping her hips. "You feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight."

Sydney moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. She began to move, riding Miles while pushing back against Lewis. The rhythm they found was perfect, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through her body.

"Fuck, Syd," Miles groaned, his hands roaming her body. "You're incredible."

Lewis echoed his sentiment, his breath hot against her ear. "So perfect, baby," he whispered. "You're taking us so well."

Sydney's mind was a haze of pleasure, her body moving on autopilot as she gave herself over to the sensations. The two men inside her, the way they filled her, the way they praised her – it was all too much, and she felt herself hurtling towards another orgasm.

With a final, shuddering cry, she came, her body convulsing with the force of her release. Miles and Lewis held her tightly, their own groans of pleasure mingling with her cries as they continued to move, riding out her orgasm together.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Sydney collapsed onto Miles's chest, her body spent and satisfied. Lewis pulled out gently, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder.

"That was incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're amazing, Sydney."

Miles nodded in agreement, his hands gently stroking her back. "Absolutely amazing," he echoed, his voice filled with awe.

Lewis and Miles gently eased Sydney off of Miles, laying her down on the bed with utmost care. Sydney's breath was still ragged, her body tingling from the intense experience. Lewis leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch tender and comforting.

"How are you feeling, love?" Lewis asked softly, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

Sydney managed a tired smile, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction. "Great," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thank you."

Miles, still lying beside her, reached out to hold her hand. "You were incredible, Syd," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "Just relax, we've got you, baby girl."

Lewis stood up and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, dampening it with warm water. He returned to the bed and gently cleaned Sydney's body, wiping away the remnants of their passionate encounter. His touch was soothing, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Just rest," Lewis murmured, his voice a gentle balm. "We'll take care of you."

Sydney closed her eyes, letting herself be pampered by the two men. Miles continued to hold her hand, his thumb stroking the back of it in a comforting rhythm. The room was filled with a serene silence, the chaos of earlier moments forgotten.

After Lewis finished cleaning her, he joined them on the bed, lying down on her other side. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to his chest. Miles shifted closer as well, creating a cocoon of warmth and security around her.

Sydney sighed contentedly, feeling safe and cherished between them. "You guys are amazing," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

Lewis pressed a kiss to her temple. "You're the amazing one, Syd," he replied softly. "Just rest now. We'll be here."

Miles nodded in agreement, his hand continuing its gentle caress. "We've got you," he echoed, his voice a soothing whisper.

As the night wore on, the three of them remained entwined, their breaths syncing in a peaceful rhythm. Sydney felt a profound connection and trust with Lewis and Miles, and their shared experience deepened their bond. Eventually, exhaustion claimed them all, and they drifted off to sleep.

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