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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

Note

I REALLY wanna see Johnny get mad! Like white hot angry at reader. Don’t know what/how it happened but Johnny’s gonna make all of reader’s poor holes suffer🥺

Maybe Simon gets surprised and turned on by his pup’s newfound aggressiveness

3.6k pwp soap drabble 4 u (cw for referenced burning building, angry sex, some light mutual degradation/objectification, and voyeurism since ghost watches)

You fume silently, face hot with rage while you and Soap walk side by side behind Ghost down the base hallways. There's a tension at the base of your neck that you just know is going to become a migraine if you don't get some medicine soon, and your bones ache from going too long without sleep.

Soap's somehow even stiffer beside you, the distance between you two small but intentional. Usually he's impossible to pry off of you, always brushing against you and looking for more physical contact, but since you landed he's kept at least half a foot between you two at all times.

Fine by you. You don't want him touching you right now anyway.

The silence is thick as Ghost leads you two to his room, his shoulders loose and relaxed.

He's got no reason to be tense, you suppose. He's not the one who had a massive disagreement on the field, who had to drag his squadmate back from a blazing fire and deal with his bitching instead of his thanks.

Just the memory of it makes you scowl.

Ghost leads the two of you into his room in rare silence, though it's only rare because usually you and Johnny would already be teasing or flirting at this point. But you don't bother now, not with your anger so fresh in your mind.

Ghost is the only one to get settled once Johnny closes the door behind you. You two stand on opposite sides of the doorframe, both too tense to do much but stew in your own righteous anger, and Ghost starts to get dressed down into something more comfortable.

He lets the two of you stay quiet until he's fully changed into a tank top and sweats, no boxers then sits on the bed with an overly loud sigh.

"You two even gonna look at each other?"

Your lip curls as you glance at Johnny from the corner of your eyes. "I have nothing to say to him."

"'S not what I asked."

Your cheek twitches and you bite your tongue, rolling a sharp canine over it. "Honestly, Simon, I don't even want to see him right now."

Johnny scoffs, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and nearly stomps to your side, leaning in front of you to try and force eye contact. "Oh, really? Ye can't even look at me, huh? Had no problem lookin' earlier, when you were draggin' me away from my goddamn mission."

You want to growl, you want to rake your nails down his face and scream about what a fool he is, what a jackass, and you want to make him remember.

Some of your ire must shine through in your expression, and Johnny mirrors it, eyes sparking as he straightens and stands diagonally from you, chest nearly brushing your shoulder.

"Dragging you away from your death, more like," you sneer.

"Wasn't your place," he bites back, moving forward enough that you can feel the heat of him even through all your layers. "You aren't my fuckin' CO and I'm not yours - wasn't any of your business how I chose to execute my orders."

"It is when you chose to do it in the most lethal way possible! Fuck, MacTavish, had you taken half a second and listened to me-"

"Oh, that's all it woulda taken? Just had to shut my pretty lips and listen to you, jump before you even say how high? Newsflash, lass, you don't get to make those decisions."

"And you do?"

"In this case? Yeah, you're fuckin' right I do. Price said drag the man out, alive, and that's what I was doing."

"You ran into a burning building!"

"Under orders from our CO!"

"You know damn well that's not what he meant, Sergeant, cut the shit. The orders were to bring him back alive, not kill yourself in the process!"

"That's the job, Sergeant. You do whatever it takes to fulfill your orders."

You're both panting as he snarls the words, nose to nose and eye to eye, teeth bared in rage that feels almost primal. His close brush with death, the way you'd had to tackle him to keep him from running after the damn target, leaves you raw and unsteady. Had you been any weaker, any less filled by adrenaline and panic and something deeply possessive, you know Soap would've thrown you off and gotten himself killed. You were hardly able to hold him down until the screaming stopped as it was.

You take as deep a breath as you can with your heart racing, and reach up to wrap the collar of Johnny's shirt tight in your fist, dragging him so close that your noses brush, hot breaths shared.

"You don't get to fucking leave me." You shoot a glance over Johnny's shoulder, to where Ghost sits comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed. "Leave us. I won't let you."

It's the last sentence that has him bristling, that ruins your chance of a settled argument.

The only person who lets Soap do anything is Ghost. The two of you listen to your Lieutenant with no questions, no doubt, no hesitations, but the same doesn't go for your fellow Sergeant. Since the 141 had formed, you and Soap have been fighting for dominance over one another, both of you determined to establish your control of the other like Ghost has for both of you.

The insinuation that you would let Soap do anything isn't something he'll let slide.

Hours later, fucked raw and sated, you can admit to yourself that the wording was slightly intentional. But now, with the fresh wound of Soap's close call with death still stinging in your subconscious, you only mean it as a way to push his anger to the level yours has been at for hours now.

"Let me?" He rumbles, muscles relaxing as he steps forward enough to press his chest to yours, head ducked low so all you can see is Johnny. "You don't let me do shit, lass. Couldn't stop me if you tried."

You can't help the way your lips quirk up into a humorless smile, your fist tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "Had a pretty easy time of it earlier, MacTavish. Had you pinned and writhing under me, like a bitch-"

Before you can finish your taunt, you find yourself pinned to the door, a mouth covering yours.

Johnny's teeth are sharp against your lips as he nips at you, leaving behind a sting and a throb. You dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them down his arms and rumbling in dissatisfaction when his clothes keep him from feeling anything.

You bite back as you push at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get your hands on him and make him hurt. You trace your fingers over his abs as you get his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down to your height and smirking at his glare.

You don't kiss so much as fight with lips instead of fists, there's no affection or softness between the two of you right now. You're nothing but your anger, but your desperation, and deep down your fear. You cling to Johnny with something verging on desperation, bite and scratch to make him feel even a bit of the pain you had at such a close call with death.

He leans almost his entire weight into yours to keep you pinned against the door, but you only have to shove at his shoulders a few times for him to get the hint and move backwards.

His lips never leave yours as you walk him back to the bed, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he falls back and keeps you on top of him. You taste the slightest tang of iron as you shift your knees up next to his hips, squeezing his sides between your thighs and his tongue between your teeth.

"You gonna ride me?" He pants when you pull away for a breath of air, your hips working over the tent in his pants. "Think you're in charge, bonnie?"

You bare your teeth at him, grinding your core against the tent in his pants. “I’m not the one on my back, MacTavish.”

His smile is all teeth as he bucks his hips into yours, knocking you off balance so you’re forced to brace your hands on either side of his head. “I don’t need to be on top to keep you on a leash.”

It’s all too easy to hook your fingers in his throat mic - his collar. His pupils blow wide when you tug harshly enough to pull his head off the mattress, his hips following as he moans and grinds you down onto him with a bruising grip on your thighs.

“Down,” you smirk, leaning your weight back and forcing his hips to the bed, grinding your hips. “‘S my turn, Johnny. Gonna use you ‘til you’re wrung dry.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then rests on his bottom lip instead of settling behind his teeth. You can’t resist the urge to lean down and lick over his lips, covering them in your own spit and groaning when he pulls you back into a proper kiss.

Despite your hand around his throat and your weight on top of his, you’re both equally in control as you strip the other. You can’t be bothered to wrestle his wrists to the bed, far preferring to let him paw your shirt and pants off while you tear the seams in his indecently tight shirt.

You only have the patience to get his pants to his knees, unwilling to help him kick them off for full mobility. Instead you grind yourself against his hard length, the soaked gusset of your underwear dragging wonderfully over both his cock and your clit.

You shift your hand on his neck so your palm is resting on his Adam’s apple, giving him just enough pressure to stay flattened to the bed.

He nearly growls when you push, the head of his cock getting caught in your panties and brushing the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, bonnie, get it on with.”

You blink down at him, cocking an unimpressed brow and shifting your hips so he slips between your folds, tucking your underwear to the side with your free hand. “You’re not in charge right now, MacTavish. I’m on top.”

“Only cause I’m lettin’ ya,” he pants, hips twitching as he tries to find your hole, tries to find a hole to sink into.

You lean down just far enough to bite the air in front of his nose, all feral rage and sexual frustration as you let yourself sit on his cock, holding him still beneath you. “You don’t let me do shit, I do whatever the fuck I want to. And right now, I want to ride you ‘til you stop fucking talking.”

You press your lips to his before he can bite back the response you see waiting on his tongue, letting your hips move in the way that feels best for you as you lick over his teeth.

Johnny’s always loved making out. When Ghost keeps him locked up, or he’s just not allowed to fuck you, he’ll happily spend hours with your lips glued together, dry humping each other and swapping spit. You can’t even count the number of times he’s come in his pants while thrusting against your hip or your side, driven over the edge by just a kiss.

You take advantage of that now, keeping one hand on his throat and the other circling the base of his throbbing cock so you can line yourself up above him. He’s far too distracted with your lips and tongue to remember he could tug you down on him at any moment, could flip the two of you with hardly any effort at all.

Despite the complete lack of prep, your body takes Johnny easily, the familiar stretch making you moan as you sink down onto him with one smooth movement. You blink open wet eyes just in time to see Johnny’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when your ass rests against him, his cock buried inside of you.

You don’t let yourself rest for long, though most days you love to just feel the weight of either of your boys inside of you. But that current of anger is still pulsing beneath your skin, and all the hot, sweat slick contact between you and Johnny only makes you feel more desperate.

Your pace is merciless, for both him and yourself. Your knees and thighs scream as you slam yourself to the base of Johnny’s cock, making sure you pull off nearly to the tip on every thrust. Without a hand around his throat, you’d have lost your balance on the first thrust.

Johnny’s pulse thunders against your fingers, so fast and so harsh that you swear you can ever see your fingertips twitching against his throat. His breaths are quick and erratic, and you can’t help but subconsciously match his breathing with your faces as close together as they are.

“So fucking good,” you moan, rolling your hips as you lift yourself off of him, dragging the head of his cock along your walls. Your voice cracks when he bucks his hips up, and you’re relieved that he’s already too blissed out to notice, lost in the tight vice of your cunt.

“Yeah?” Johnny pants, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth when you pull away fully. “Stuff you just right, yeah, lass?”

You bite your tongue against an agreement, some deep part of you that’s not quite drunk on pleasure yet unwilling to give Johnny that kindness. Instead you shift your weight, so that your hand is more cupping Johnny’s jaw and putting pressure on his head instead of his neck, letting you really push him down and get the proper leverage to fuck yourself on his cock.

“Perfect fucking-” you shudder against the words, moan when he rubs just over your g-spot and repeating the same motion with your hips again and again. “Perfect fucking toy, so nice to ride.”

The sound Johnny makes is purely animalistic, torn between anger and desperation, something rough and low in his throat. You can feel the rumble of it through your hand and can’t help but moan in return, finally nearing your peak even as your legs continue to burn.

Neither of you speaks as you ride him, your head hanging low so you’re eye-level with his nipples and focused entirely on your own pleasure. The way your muscles scream at you only fills you with more need, more desperation, and the pain pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Your clit grinds just right over the rough patch of Soap’s pubic hair, soaking it in your juices and covering him in slick.

You reach your peak with gasping breaths, nearly going cross-eyed as you use Johnny entirely for your own pleasure, using him as nothing more than something to hold yourself up on and a toy to ride. Your muscles go completely lax as your pleasure overwhelms you, leaving you slumped against his muscular chest as you ride out the orgasm with small rolls of your hips.

Johnny’s still rock hard inside of you as you come down, his grip on your thighs tight enough to bruise. Your hand has slipped from underneath his collar to the mattress next to his face, and you don’t have the energy to push yourself up and away, to deny him like you’d intended.

Your lungs feel too small as you try to take deep gasping breaths, only managing a few before your lungs start hitching. Johnny’s chest rises and falls quickly beneath your head, his heart pounding beneath your ear.

You don’t have time to brace yourself before you’re flipped onto your stomach, face down on the mattress.

One moment you’re floating in post-orgasmic bliss, letting your body clench down on Johnny and milk him, the next moment you’re on your knees with your back forced into a deep arch, that same cock pounding into you like a machine.

Your groan is bone deep when you finally lift your head enough to breathe, eyes rolled heavenward as your body tries its best to adjust to the harsh treatment.

“Show you a fucking toy,” Johnny snarls from over your shoulder, his voice sounding distant beneath the blood rushing through your ears. “Think ye can just treat me like fucking nothing, get yerself off then take a fucking nap? Nah, yer gonna take what ye fucking deserve.”

The thickening of Johnny’s accent has you gushing around him, your sensitive channel clenching down so hard that you’re surprised he can pull out at all.

Johnny’s hand wraps in your hair when you try to let your head fall forward again, yanking you back with enough strength to leave you yowling at the strain on your neck.

“Don’t fucking hide,” he hisses, landing a sharp slap on the meat of your ass. “Think ye can just shove yer head in the sand? Let me fuckin’ hear you, lass, sing f’r me.”

“Fu-uck you,” you manage to groan, syllables interrupted on every thrust, your voice cracking. “You’re not- fuck, Johnny, don’t have to listen to you.”

You can practically hear the way he gnashes his teeth over your shoulder, can perfectly envision the angry snarl on his face at your lack of submission.

“Ye will. Gonna teach ye a fuckin’ lesson about yer place.”

You try your best to rear up, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare as best you can despite the grip on your hair. “My place? Who the hell do you think- oh fuck, fuck, Johnny, you can’t- goddamnit-”

“Can’t even get a goddamn word out.” Even from your terrible angle you can see that his smile is mean. “Think ye can be in charge when ye can’t even finish a sentence? Fuckin’ fool.”

You nearly shriek when he shoves your head down to the mattress, clawing fruitlessly at anything in front of you. You only freeze when you feel flesh give way underneath your nails, the hard muscles of a thick thigh under your palm.

You can just barely angle your head enough to glance up and see Simon looking down at you, but you can’t manage to see anything past his general shape with the way Soap is trying to shove you inside the mattress.

Ghost’s hand comes to rest on your head, and when you lean into him he pushes Johnny’s fingers off.

“Watch it, pup,” he rumbles, and Johnny’s hips stutter behind you. “You’re already in trouble. Do you really wanna make it worse?”

Your self-righteous smirk is hidden in the sheets, but you can’t fully muffle your laugh when Johnny’s whines over your shoulder. The sound quickly morphs into a snarl, and he buries his teeth into your shoulder as his hips start to work again, the sound of his balls slapping against your soaked cunt obscene.

Johnny wraps his arms beneath your torso, hooking his hands on your shoulders so he can tug you into every thrust, moving his face up to nose at your throat. You feel covered by him, consumed by him, as he chases his own pleasure.

You don’t quite manage to get off before he empties himself inside you, but there’s a deep satisfaction in your bones that still lets you melt into him.

Johnny’s all heat and power at your back as he goes weak against you, and a small shove to his shoulder from Ghost has both of you resting on your sides, spooning with his cock still buried inside of you.

Your breaths sync with his quickly, matching the inhales and exhales you can feel against your neck and the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Your eyes flutter shut, relaxing into the bed and Johnny’s arms. You know that you’ll have to Talk later, about what he’d done and how you’d responded. But you know it’ll be an easier conversation after Ghost’s punishment, when all of your consciousness has eased a bit.

“There ya go,” you hear Ghost say, followed by a soft stroke over your head. “Exhausted yourselves, huh? Silly pups.”

You hum and Johnny rumbles behind you, burying his face more fully in your throat. You feel Ghost’s other hand pet over his mohawk, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“I guess you can nap.” Ghost sighs, like he’s doing you both a great favor. “You’ll both need all your energy for your punishment, anyway. Breakin’ damn near every rule in the book just cause you got a little worked up. What am I gonna do with the two of you?”

You don’t have the energy to respond, and the best Johnny manages is a small and plaintive whine. Ghost chuckles from above you, and you feel him lay in front of you, his arms wrapping around Johnny’s back and tugging you both to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just relax now, you’re alright.”

It’s easy to drift off, even if the heat is near suffocating and the stretch of Johnny’s cock verges on the edge of too much. You’re loose-limbed and sated, and Johnny’s safe beside you. There’s little else you could ever want, ever need, and you can’t be much more than grateful as you fall asleep between your men.

#ghoap x reader #nobody saw me complaining about this last night :)#bo writes #soap mactavish x reader #< since it's mostly him #btw i off and on contemplated making this reader male so if their vibes change throughout the fic thats why lmao #2 big military men fighting for dominance over one another while a Bigger & More Muscular partner watches knowing they're under his thumb..#yeah that's the stuff

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recklessmark · 10 months

Text

my husband is a curse

Summary: having a husband like Mark Lee seems like a curse, where he is too powerful and you will be left with nothing after this marriage.

Pairing: toxic possessive husband Mark x trophy wife Reader

WC: 3k

Warning: heavy dubcon/noncon elements (don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable), drugging, infidelity, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding, oral sex, squirting, toxic marriage, idk what else

a/n: Mark is an major douche and you’ve been warned, again.

He comes home late, again. And the smell of alcohol is too strong for you to ignore. But what’s harder to ignore is the fresh blooming hickey on the juncture of his neck. One that you didn’t give him.

You clutch your hand tight and nitpick the soft skin on your thumb. Forcing a loving smile despite how heavy your chest feels right now.

This routine has been going on for quite some time now – a year perhaps. You’ve lost track of how many nights he will come home smelling like another woman, give some petty excuse he got roughed up at work when there are love bites scattered all over his body, how he will dodge with a petty excuse of showering you expensive gifts, and how you took all of that kindly. Dumb, loving, and naïve.

After all, you are his wife. Your love for him has made you endure it all, accepting the hurt that lingers beneath the surface. The word itself catches in your throat. Yes, you still love him—the piercing gaze of his dark eyes, his pretty boy smile that could melt your heart, his everything. But this—this is where you draw the line.

“Where have you been?”

You still sound doting—to say the least. Your nurturing and caring nature overpower the pain that consumes you.

"Just out with the boys... grabbed a few beers, love," he responds, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

It would have been a sweet sweet gesture if he didn't carry the scent of another woman, tarnishing the moment.

You are far from naïve. Before becoming his prized trophy wife, you were an accomplished surgeon. That's where your paths first crossed, when he wavered at the edge of death and you mended him. Love blossomed in the midst of chaos, ensnaring you in this pitiful predicament.

"Did you miss me?" He questions, drawing you closer for a hug, his chin resting gently atop your head.

You delicately pull away, overwhelmed by the lingering aroma of another woman that fills your nostrils, causing a disorienting wave of dizziness. Your lips press into a thin line, revealing the hurt etched upon your face.

"Gone for a few nights and returned with those marks on your neck, huh?" You finally snap, determination evident in your voice. This is the breaking point, the line you can no longer ignore.

Mark freezes for a second, but smiles fondly. Like you are some lunatic spewing nonsense. You never voiced anything for so long so why now?

“Baby, what are you talking about?” He chuckles and removes the few strands of hair on your face, then gently caresses your cheek.

“It’s nothing.” He says with a sickeningly sweet smile.

God, it hurts.

“Nothing?”

You echo, your face all scrunches into a frown. You will not buy that bullshit again this time, no. Nights of being in denial that your marriage was savable has already gone down the drain. You can’t keep being an actress in your own home anymore. You can’t keep letting him always have everything in his way. But you also can’t let go of him, let go of your marriage.

Having a husband like Mark Lee seems like a curse. Where he is too powerful and you will be left with nothing after this marriage. But you already have nothing – you only feel nothing. Your lack of warmth alarms him a little so he kneels in front of you and grabs both your hands.

Those eyes again.

Eyes that you once loved – now playing tricks on you to hide his own selfishness.

“Yes baby, nothing. You know how work can be demanding sometimes.” He says, offering a loving smile as if all is well, as if you were still in the midst of a romantic novel.

You know those marks are not from work but you smiled. Letting it go. You know deep down he is too prideful to admit his mistakes. You know you will never hear the words ‘I'm sorry’ from him.

“Alright.” You pull your hands from him. His touch is all too burning.

He grins, probably thinking you are too easy to manipulate. But in truth, you know everything, yet you let yourself cling to the threads that maybe. Just maybe. There is hope. He leans in again, pressing his lips to kiss yours this time.

You do not reciprocate it. There is no reason to. You already packed your bags and are ready to run away from him, run away from everything this morning and die quietly somewhere.

So you pull away.

"I'm tired," you manage to say, forcing yourself to meet his gaze and conjure a smile. However, your tears betray you, cascading down your cheeks, leaving trails of sorrow on your rosy complexion.

Mark sees through your facade. "Baby, what's wrong?" Concern lacing his words.

"Just tired, that's all," you reply, evading the truth—tired of this marriage, tired of his infidelity, tired of him.

"Alright.” He responded simply.

There's an emptiness in his eyes that sends shivers down your spine. It's disconcerting, how a man like him can shift from being a loving husband in one moment to wearing a vacant expression the next.

"Don't be angry, baby. I promise we'll go on vacation for a week, okay? You've been longing for that beach getaway," he suggests, attempting to appease you.

"I'm not mad," you assure him, and by the heavens above, you mean it. Anger has long since evaporated within you, leaving only pain and suffering for your weary heart and mind.

"Good," stepping closer, his hands rubbing up and down your arms in a feeble attempt to comfort. "If I've done anything to hurt you, I'm sorry. You know how much I love you,"

"I love you too," you respond, yet deep down, you question the sincerity of those words. You feel like an empty shell, a mechanical entity trapped in a pitiful routine perpetuated by his unfaithfulness.

“I prepared your bath. It's gonna run cold.” This is the last time you’d do that.

Your words elicit a smile from his lips as he hums in agreement. "A bath together sounds lovely."

Turning your face away, you contemplate the situation, weighing your options.

"Come on, it's not like we haven't done this before! Please, baby?" he pleads, pouting in an attempt to sway you.

The audacity.

"Alright," you respond stiffly, masking the turmoil within. You ascend the stairs, making sure to double-check that the other room where your bags are packed remains securely locked. Finally, you enter the sanctuary of the private bathroom within your shared space.

This night will mark the end. You repeat the words silently to yourself, resolute yet burdened by conflicting emotions.

Mark follows closely behind you, his hands carefully cradling an exquisite bottle of wine as he raises it for you to see. “You love this wine.”

He approaches from behind, enveloping you in his comforting warmth, his hand tenderly caressing your belly as the other skillfully undoes the zipper of your dress.

The coolness of the bathroom causes a shiver to ripple through your body, but his kisses on your shoulder offer you solace. “Let’s take a bath together. What do you say, hmm?”

With each article of clothing removed, he peppers your shoulder and nape with affectionate kisses, seeking your agreement.

You say nothing and the lack of response infuriates him. But that's okay. One thing Mark will never do is to hurt you—well at least physically. He could not bring himself to do so. He loves you.

Gently grasping your chin, he guides your faces together, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "Right, love?" he implores, yearning for your acknowledgment.

"Fine," you answer dismissively, acquiescing to the moment, and step into the inviting embrace of the bathtub. Mark sheds his own garments, joining you in the warm water. Your back leans against his chest, finding comfort nestled between his thighs.

He delicately grasps the bottle of wine, pouring a generous amount into his glass. "Let's share, my love," he murmurs, his eyes filled with affection.

With a swift sip, he finishes his drink, refilling his glass and tenderly pressing it against your lips. Reluctantly, you part your mouth as he urges you to taste the wine. A few droplets escape, trickling down your chin. "Oh, we can't have that," he laments.

His fingers firmly grip your chin as he leans in and playfully licks away the spilled wine. "There, perfect," he whispers, his voice laced with temptation and sweetness.

Yet, despite his alluring words, you remain silent. Deep within, you know that no amount of sweet talk can erase the pain he has caused you.

Your silence begins to worry him. "If it's my demanding schedule that troubles you, I'll change it. I'll change everything for you, baby," he pleads earnestly.

A soft sigh escapes your lips. "You can't change, Mark.”

In that instant, the room falls into silence. You are right, of course. His empty promises hold no weight. He has used every excuse in the book to justify his infidelity. Weariness and suffocation envelop you, stifling your very being. And so, you rise from your seat.

But as you stand, a sudden dizziness overtakes you. You hadn't consumed much alcohol—just a single glass—which should be insufficient to make you feel drunk.

“About time," he murmurs, understanding dawning in his eyes.

As you slip in the bathtub, Mark's quick reflexes save you from a potential fall. His chuckle fills the room, followed by the warmth of his arms enveloping you lovingly. He presses gentle kisses against your back, his lips conveying a mixture of playfulness and affection.

"You thought I didn't notice the bags you packed in the guest room?" His voice filled with knowing amusement.

Your voice and muscles feel weak and tired, reminiscent of a long day spent under the sun at the beach. "Please, let me go, Mark," you manage to say, your words tinged with exhaustion.

A note of finality seeps into his response. "No," he declares firmly. "You can't simply leave me... I love you, and you know that."

With a small flicker of consciousness, you open your mouth to speak. "What have you done..." your words trail off weakly.

"Don't worry, my love," he reassures you, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. "It will only make you more pliant, like a good girl for me."

Your lower belly tingles with an unexpected warmth, but you resist it. No.

"I understand I have my faults as your husband," he confesses, his tone softened. "But don't worry. The other woman is no longer a concern."

He... what? Did the fucker kill her?

"Mark—" you begin, but he interrupts you, his voice filled with urgency.

"No one else can come close to you," he insists. "No one can ever replace you."

"Then why?" you whisper, confusion etched in your voice.

"It's just old habits that die hard," he chuckles, devoid of humor. A heavy sigh escapes him. "My love for you is real, don't doubt that. I've taken care of her and all of them already. It's their fault, not yours, baby."

His kisses trail down your spine, culminating in a gentle bite on your neck. "When I saw you packing your bags on the camera, panic consumed me," he confesses. "I had to travel 16 hours just to get back home in time."

"I needed to ensure you were still here... Not that you could escape anyways," he adds, a hint of possessiveness creeping into his voice. "Shadows always surround this place when I'm gone. I have to protect you somehow."

Summoning the last ounce of strength within you, you push him away, breaking free from his grasp.

"Hush, my baby, it's okay," he soothes, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. His breathing becomes heavier, you can feel how hard he is at your ass.

He carries you towards the bed. Wetting it with your bodies. When he releases you, he grabs you and forces you onto your front. Mark gives no time for you to adjust. The bedsheets run coarse against your soft skin, your thighs rubbing the skin of your pussy.

“Mine.” He pulls you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs widely. His thick fingers find your hole. With neither warning, he plunges three of them into you. And you let out a silent scream.

It’s been so long since you guys did it–no. It's going to hurt.

He reaches deep inside and feels you convulse against him. “That’s right, my sweet wife. Think you can give me one, hmm?”

With experienced fingers, he keeps hitting the soft spongy spot deep inside you. He kneels, eyes transfixed on how you swallow his fingers. Then, suddenly, he enclosed his mouth on your engorged clit and sucked, hard. You scream in pleasure, legs shaking and you squirt– wetting the sheets. Mark dutifully laps at your folds, drinking your juices.

He pulls away and slaps your cunt. Hard. Earning a whine from you. “That’s for thinking of leaving me behind.”

Your eyes water.

“Shhh” He groans. “You little minx know how to make me feel guilty. I’ll give you that.” He gently wipes your tears away.

“I love you, baby–always do.” He stand on his full height. “And I will remind you how much I do.”

Mark pushes forward, stretching you further than his fingers have prepared you for. It doesn’t hurt, but the burn of the stretch sears through to your lower abdomen. Strong arms keep you from escaping, the solid wall of muscle holding you steady as his cock works you open inch by inch.

You are thankful that he stills for a moment. But that doesn’t last for long. With practiced ease, he grips the backside of your thighs and pushes your legs towards your chest. Bending you in half as his strong hands pin you. He pulls away and pushes in slowly. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Then drags it out slowly till only the head is left.

“Tell me you love me.”

You try to blink the tears away and open your mouth. Yet no words come out.

“Tell. Me. You. Love. Me.” He punctuates every word with deep thrusts.

You gasp a ragged breath, and his grip locks down on your throat like a fucking vice, cutting off your oxygen. Then without warning, he rams hard, fast, bullying your poor cunt. You feel your eyes roll back as they are filled with overwhelmed tears, a bit of drool trailing down your chin as you sob out moan after guttural moan, and then he adjusts his angle slightly and hits your g-spot with every thrust. Then when you are so close, he completely still inside you.

“No…” You whine.

No, you want him to continue…

No, you want him to stop…

You were not sure anymore.

Then he starts moving again. Slow, deep, rolls of his hips this time. “Come on baby… Say the words and I’ll let you cum.”

This angle allows him in so deep, each pass stretching your walls, bliss batters into your core. Rough hands paw at your breasts, pinching your nipples while you fist handfuls of the bed covers, fingers twitching as you try to hold onto the remaining shreds of your awareness. You are smashed into the mattress by his weight. Rough, primal noises huffed with each ragged breath.

“I love you…” Fresh tears prick your eyes.

It pains to admit it but you really do. You still do.

“Yes… Fuck!”

He fucks you faster and harder. “Maybe I should fuck a child inside of you, yeah?”

Your eyes widen.

“Keep you full of my cum everyday so you can’t escape me.”

A child would be the last thing you want from him right now. Not when your relationship is so shaky and hopeless. Yet here you are—helplessly pinned by his battle hardened body. But in your blissed-out state, you are too far gone to mind in the slightest.

Your vision blurs and your ears ring as the blood rushed away from your head to other areas that demand more. Your swollen and overstimulated clit smashes into his pelvis each time he pounds into you, accompanied by the low, rough grunts. A sense of weightlessness washes over you, as you become nothing but a ragdoll to be fucked by your husband.

"Fuck, I'm cumming."

He grunts, the sound tearing out from deep within his chest. His cock twitches inside of you, flooding you with sticky warmth that mingles with your own fluids. You are breathless as he pops out of your well-used hole, his hot cum leaked from you. He is transfixed by the sight of your pussy and how it clenches to drip his cum down the sheets, already feeling himself hard.

“Now that won’t do.” He pumps himself a few times and manhandles you to lay on your stomach. “We will make lots and lots of babies forever. Right, baby?”

#mark lee smut #mark smut #nct smut #kpop smut #nct 127 smut #nct u smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #kpop fanfic

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celtic-crossbow · 26 days

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 21

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore; Sexual content; Animal death (hunting - not descriptive); Mild description of vomit; a little sad angsty moment; Non-con sedation

You had to admit that holy shit, it was nice to be out in the fresh air. It was cold as fuck, but you were bundled up in the coat that had been brought to you all those weeks ago. It sucked to keep it situated for easy gun and knife access but it was enough. Your feet were warm in your boots, two pairs of socks since they were a little big to accommodate any swelling of your feet as the pregnancy progressed but that only meant that your toes were nice and toasty. Leggings under maternity jeans were a hindrance when the baby decided to drop kick your bladder, but otherwise, necessary to ensure you didn’t get frostbite in very inconvenient areas, as well as your legs.

You had been walking through the snow for about an hour before coming across any walkers. There were two, both women. One a little older than Beth and one about your own age. They moved slower in the cold, you had noticed. After putting them down, you became aware that their skin appeared to be freezing solid.

“Walker popsicles. Huh.” You muttered, storing that information to share. Another fifteen minutes went by and you had still seen no game, so you decided to stop and rest. You weren’t necessarily out of shape but you were growing a human inside of you. That tended to take a bit out of the energy department. You had swiped a canteen and some of the jerky, partaking of both to make sure you could carry out what you came to do.

“Alright, Thumper. Let’s see if we can figure out daddy’s weapon of choice. Can’t be that hard, right?” You promptly came very close to shooting a bolt into your own foot. You blinked at it and looked around as if there had been anyone else to see the incident before putting a hand to your belly. Thumper rolled as if just as shocked. “Let’s just keep that between us, okay?”

It was the operation that hindered you. Once you figured out the mechanics,—with about forty-five minutes of tinkering—aiming and firing were things that came naturally to you. Daryl was going to murder you when he had to fix everything you had fucked with in your exploration of the weapon. Collecting the bolts you had used for practice, you froze, eyes narrowed on the small indentations in the snow. Rabbits.

Small game was your specialty. You always hunted rabbits and squirrels when it was just you and father. There was nowhere to keep an abundance of meat in your small home. No smokehouse. It had been different when the family would come over, your aunt and uncles. They loved their venison and you never had to be concerned with wasting anything.

The smile that lifted the corners of your mouth was one born of bittersweet longing. You wished your father could be there to meet his grandchild, but you were—at the same time—thankful that he wasn’t around to see what had truly become of the world, that it would never go back to how it used to be.

Still, you chuckled as you wiped away a tear. Your father would have had one hell of a time getting used to the idea of Daryl being the father, but in the end, he would have been the first to see through that rough exterior to the man hidden underneath. And he would not have wasted a single second before calling the archer out on it.

“If you’re a boy, I could name you after your grandad. Maybe after your uncle, if your daddy wants.” Daryl still hadn’t revealed much about his family. Maybe once he was better, you could sit with him and just talk, quid pro quo. You ask a question about him, and then him about you. He seemed to be okay with that sorta thing. He never liked being the center of attention.

He also appeared interested in learning about you in every way he could. It hadn’t taken you long to notice the way he picked up on things and filed them away. He knew how you liked your meat cooked when it was being eaten outside of a stew. He would take it from Carol and do it himself, usually. He knew how things touching the front of your throat made you feel uncomfortable, like scarves or the top buttons of a flannel, stopping Maggie from wrapping a rather pretty knit fabric around your neck one bitterly cold morning.

Daryl also knew just how to touch you, how to curl his fingers inside of you and how much pressure you needed when his thumb would graze over your clit. He excelled in making you shiver by wetting his digits with your own arousal before dragging the tips over your skin to stimulate your nipples. He did all this while pressing soft kisses just behind your ear or over your pulse, everyone sleeping around you being none the wiser. It was always so incredibly erotic to be brought over the edge knowing that any of them could simply open their eyes and see that he was working you over.

Maybe you could show him what you knew he liked while he recovered. You knew for a fact that he would groan if you lapped and nibbled at a specific area just above his collarbone. He would never admit it but you had noticed the way touching his nipples made his hips jerk when he was inside of you. The first time you’d gone down on him back in the woods, you had kitten-licked at his tip and pressed your thumb against the vein that ran underneath, dragging the digit up his length. He had clawed at the tree behind him so hard that you were certain he’d be picking splinters from beneath his nails afterward.

It took a soft thump to the cranium, snow falling from a branch overhead, to bring you from your pleasant thoughts. With an ache between your thighs and the prospect of maybe getting some alone time with your boyfriend—you still needed to clarify what you could call him, if anything—while he wasn’t trying to evict his lungs from within his chest, you whined quietly. You kinda wished you had stayed there and were curled up in bed with him. Was he okay? Were the meds helping? Was Carol whacking him over the head with the bedpost to keep him from chasing you?

You had nearly convinced yourself to turn back when you saw the first rabbit, a decent sized cane cutter that would make a nice stew to last a couple of days. It hadn’t seen you and taking it down was easy since you had not yet shouldered the crossbow.

“One down, Thumper!” You took one step and then paused. “It’s kinda insensitive to call you Thumper when I’m hunting rabbits, isn’t it?”

You had two rabbits by the time at least three and a half hours had passed, a little disappointing but it was freezing and you did have to make periodic stops to put down walking corpses and even more stops to pee. You were feeling a little nauseous as well, so it was likely beyond time to head back. Maybe Daryl would rest just as well the next day and you could come back out since this excursion would show everyone you could handle yourself out there.

Wiping your knife across your thigh after yet another slow moving walker, you had barely secured it into the sheath before you noticed the tracks.

Deer.

A single deer, young but more than a year. Based on the depth of the tracks, you could likely manage to haul it back on your own if you could take it down. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glanced at the way back to the house; back to Daryl.

This was all for him, after all. The more food you could secure, the longer he could rest and recover. The decision was simple after that. Ensuring a bolt was loaded, you set out to do what you once did best.

You were still her.

The only differences were the people in your family were no longer an aunt and two uncles, the main man in your life was no longer your father, and you were 11 or so weeks away from having your own baby. You had never needed to be provided for, always the provider. There was no reason you and Daryl couldn’t share that responsibility. When the baby came, you’d adjust and adapt, providing differently and that was okay. The longer you could nurse Thumper, the easier it would make things. You’d step back then, let Daryl take over. It would be even more important to him then, the need to provide. You’d be a team, each caring for the baby in your own way.

The prospect was equal parts exciting and terrifying. New parents in a dystopian world. It wasn’t impossible. It was just dangerous. Daryl had done so well, thinking ahead when he had cleared that Wal-Mart. So much that would be needed already secured, ready to carry with your group when moving from place to place. With a small, tender smile, you glanced at the bracelet for morning sickness you still wore. It likely no longer worked, but you couldn't really bear to part with it.

You wanted to search out a baby store eventually, or make a request for a run. Cloth diapers would be a lifesaver once the disposable ones had been used. Infant and children’s medications needed to be stocked.

Thumper gave your ribs a jab, earning a hiss in response. “Okay, okay. I’m focused. Jeez, kid, can you be any more like your father?”

The tracks were getting closer together in clusters, the deer stopping to check out areas in search of food. You were catching up, the falling snow not yet filling in the prints. In the back of your mind, you maintained an active regard for the time you’d been gone, one eye on the sun to ensure you’d make it back before dark. You would be late and you’d steered off course but you were confident. You’d need to circle around and place yourself downwind soon if you wanted to stand a chance. This is what you knew.

You’d meet up with the search party at the very least on your journey back. That is if Carol hadn’t grown anxious and sent them earlier. Or Daryl— dear god, if Daryl hadn’t somehow managed to drag himself out of that house. No, they wouldn’t let him. You had to believe that. It would be Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog. Maybe Maggie. They’d likely be sore at needing to come find you but if you were hauling a deer, that disgruntlement would likely be forgotten quickly. You just needed to ensure you succeeded and that you stayed safe.

Just as you continued to track, you muttered a curse at a slow shuffling walker. One bolt needed to remain untainted for hunting and, so far, your knife had been sufficient but you were closing in on your target. Using the crossbow would be ideal for the dead at that juncture. Nearly silent kills. The crossbow was level with your eyes when you saw it.

The doe’s head perked up just beyond some snow-covered shrubbery, ears twitching. “Fuck.” You whispered. You had to take the deer first or risk it running from the walker. It had already spotted the threat, getting ready to move. There was no time to think. The deer went down easily, your muttered apologies and gratitude for what it would provide for your group were unheard as you dropped the bow and sprinted for the corpse.

Loading another bolt would take too much time, the deer would be lost to the walker. You were already cutting it close this way, the snow and the off-centered weight of your belly slowing you down. Just as the dead man began to fall on top of your kill for the unearned feast, you tackled him. There was a jolt of pain in your midsection but your knife was already sinking into an eye socket, the deed done.

“Ow,” you muttered. Scanning the area for threats as you unzipped and moved clothing, raising your sweater to look at the deep red mark on the side of your belly, just below your right rib cage. “Fuck.” A knee or elbow must have been angled just right to jab you on impact. “You okay in there?” Your sweater still rolled up, you laid your knife on your thigh and caressed the taut skin with both hands. “Come on, Thumps, need you to move.” A foot or hand pressed firmly into the injured side. “Okay, okay! Point taken! No more tackling walkers. Ouch, you little gremlin.” With a huff, you adjusted your clothing. You’d have Hershel look you over and check on the baby when you returned.

Wiping your knife on your jeans, you secured it on the sheath and crawled over to the deer. It remained unsullied and perfect to feed your family. It was a clean, quick kill and it didn’t suffer. You were always thankful for those.

“Alright, let’s get this back—” No time to register what was happening before you tilted over to retch violently. “Shit.” You panted, looking away from the mess of bile, water, and undigested jerky. Of course this couldn’t just go smoothly. Once again, the world had decided to fuck you. “At least Daryl beat it to getting me pregnant.” You laughed at your lame joke and laid back against the belly of the deer to catch your breath.

“Fucker.” You growled, angling your leg to kick the man's corpse. The baby moved as you laid there, the slightly ripple showing beneath your coat and sweater. “Oh, hey. I could see that.” You smiled, rubbing your very upset stomach. “Your father is gonna skin me right along with this deer.” You nodded to yourself. Closing your eyes, you took deep, calculated breaths in an attempt to gain control over the nausea.

But when they opened again, it was dark, the sun having fled and the moon bright in the star-filled sky. You groaned as you sat up, checking yourself and the area around you for any signs of walker activity. No bites. Your deer was frozen but whole. Shaking off the snow that had gathered on you, you rubbed your hands together, digging through the pockets of your coat with numb fingers in search of your gloves.

“You good in there, Thumps?”

Nothing.

You had just finished pulling on the second glove before stilling to stare at your round stomach hidden beneath your coat. “Thumper?” You had grown so accustomed to the baby reacting when you spoke that to feel such stillness made your chest tighten. “Baby?” Swallowing hard, you adjusted your clothing again, shivering when the chill of the night air struck your belly. “Come on, baby, can you move for mama?”

What if the baby had died inside you? Does the virus affect a fetus? What if you carried the baby only for them to be born a walker?

Then there was movement, gentle ripples below the skin. Some that you could see, some that you couldn’t. But the thought remained, a very real terror that your baby could already be dead and just trying to get out.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. You could only jerk your eyes back and forth at the sound of footsteps getting closer.

“Whatcha sittin’ in the snow for, Peanut?”

Now you definitely couldn’t breathe. There, bathed in moonlight, standing on two very there, very functioning legs, was your father. “Dad—daddy?”

“Hey, there.” You sat stock still, sweater still rolled up, eyes still frozen on him as he approached and crouched in front of you. “Let’s get you all fixed up here.” Gentle hands fixed your clothing, zipped your coat, and ruffled your hair.

“Am I dreaming?” You asked with the slightest wobble to your voice.

“‘Fraid so, Peanut-butter.” When the sound that punched out of you was like a painful sob, he was ducking to find your eyes. “Hey, hey. None of that.”

“I miss you.” You sniffled, letting him pull you close with his chin on your head. “There’s so much—”

“I know, baby girl. I’ve been watching.” He pulled back, thumbing away your tears. “Gonna be a grandpa, I see. Daddy wouldn’t have been my first choice but he surprised me.”

“You like him?” You smiled, lopsided and silly, giggling when he rolled his eyes.

“No father thinks any man is good enough for his little girl, but this one? Well, he keeps surprising me.” He offered you a hand, pulling you up with him as he stood. “He needs you. He’s always needed you just as much as you’ve needed him. So you need to get you and my grandbaby back to him before he loses his mind.”

“But the baby—”

“Is fine.” He chortled, gently stroking your cheek. “You’ll be an amazing mama, Peanut.” He was starting to fade right before your eyes. “You’ll see.”

“Don’t go.” You pleaded, hands passing through his shoulders when you tried to pull him back.

“I’m so proud of you.” His voice was echoing, distant even when you could still see his face. “You’ll be fine, all three of you. But now you need to wake up.”

A tear was frozen to your temple, pulling at your skin there when your eyes opened. Snow peppered down from the dark sky, the moon barely visible beyond the clouds. You felt no panic, breaths coming calmly and the baby kicking periodically, even if it did smart when the little extremities connected with the sensitive injury.

You winced pulling yourself away from the deer you knew would be at least partially frozen. The meat would keep, at least. You’d let the men handle the thawing and prepping anyway. The area was dark, no signs of flashlights or sounds of voices. They had either passed you by or never came at all.

It wouldn’t matter in the end.

Because you were going back to them.

Getting to your feet, you gathered your things and prepared to drag the deer. It would likely be about 115 pounds so carrying it was unlikely. You wouldn’t risk leaving it for later retrieval, not when 45 to 50 pounds of meat was likely from that single kill. Hell no.

You had once dragged Daryl while he was soak and wet and he had at least 60 pounds on that deer. This was doable. You just needed to think. Eyes darting around, you let your fingers drum on your tummy while you pondered. With a deep breath, you started to believe you’d just be dragging the damn thing by hand but then you noticed the walker you had put down. Grabbing your knife, you grinned like a damn fool and set to work.

Lori was pacing in front of the door, watching the men prepare to leave. “You should have already been out there hours ago! Before dark, Rick!” When the deputy stood with a sigh, she didn’t back down. “Do you remember when the decision was made to leave Daryl out when he didn’t come back? Who went to get him? What shape he was in when she brought him back?”

“Yes, I remember, okay! I was just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt! She seemed like she had something she wanted to prove.”

“She said four hours. Carol came to you before that because we were about to lose Daryl on a crazy quest to find her.” Maggie was looking at Glenn but then sent a pointed glance to each of them.

“He’s gonna have a lot to say when he finds out you waited, especially after what we had Hershel do.” Carol said from her spot on the top of the stairs.

“What did Hershel do?” All eyes turned to you in the doorway, dropping the straps you had made from the walker’s overalls. It was Lori that made it to you first, her arms winding around you awkwardly with two different sized bumps barring the way.

“Carol told us you had left to hunt and all I could think about were the things I said upstairs.” The other woman’s eyes were wet and sincere. With a smile, you pulled off one of your gloves and wiped a thumb below her eye. You didn’t say anything because what could you say? She had been incredibly insulting to Daryl and you wouldn’t speak for him. Maybe she would get the hint and talk to him eventually. Maybe not.

You looked past Lori toward Rick, T-Dog, and Glenn. "Got a deer and two rabbits." Then your next smile, wry as it was, aimed up the stairs. “What did Hershel do, Carol?” Carl and Beth came thumping out of the kitchen, throwing their arms around you. You hugged them close while your eyes flitted over to the old veterinarian himself walking along the banister from Daryl’s room. You were gentle when pulling away from the kids, tossing a kills are on the porch, have fun at the men while you began your ascent.

Carol fell in step with you.

“Before anything else,” you started, unzipping your coat, “I had a literal run-in with a walker. Hershel, can you—?” You rolled up your sweater, the skin already bruising.

“Has the baby been active?” He asked immediately, probing the area with tenderness while the other hand struggled to place his stethoscope in his ears.

“It’s Nascar in there, I promise.” You felt the baby squirm slightly before they settled again, your eyes on the old man’s face, watching for any concern. You found none and let out a breath when he straightened.

“Seems like all is well. Heartbeat is just fine and it is indeed the Indy 500. You were lucky.” There was a bit of a reprimand in that last statement, one you couldn’t say was unwarranted. Nodding in agreement, you made up your mind that as long as the meat could last until Daryl was on his feet, you wouldn’t venture out alone again.

You then turned to Carol. You had told her to do whatever it took to keep him there, even knock him out. If Hershel was involved, you assumed the knocking out was of a medicational nature. He wasn’t dead, they would have been smart enough to tell you that around people that could restrain you. “Okay, what’s the damage?” You asked from just beside the doorway, afraid to look inside just yet. “Is he tied down?” Carol shook her head.

“He was determined, Y/N. He pulled out the IV, only made it to the stairs before collapsing. They couldn’t get him back into the room, weak as he was, he fought all three of those grown men.” Hershel sighed. “I gave him a very small dose of morphine. It was enough to sedate him without compromising his respiration.”

You groaned. That man was going to verbally rip you a new asshole, but you’d take it with grace because it was going to keep him safe and give him more time to recover. As long as the meat was prepared and rationed correctly, it could last a while. Maybe that would give you a chance to get back on his good side.

He needs you. He’s always needed you just as much as you’ve needed him.

“Okay, so what do I need to do?” You asked, finally rolling your back against the wall to place you inside the room. Daryl was out. You had never seen the man so unconscious, and you’d seen him nearly die. That was a frightening thought. The plus side was that his color was so much better and the rattle in his chest couldn’t be heard until you were much closer. He didn’t stir in the slightest when you sat down next to his left hip, all the way around toward the wall, avoiding the arm with the replaced IV.

“You won’t need to do much of anything. Monitor his breathing and fetch me if it gets too slow. It shouldn’t with the dose I gave him but his body has been fighting a horrific illness, so we can’t be too careful. It’s been a couple of hours so it will likely start wearing off soon, regardless. When he wakes up, make sure he drinks and encourage him to cough. Coughing and keeping the lungs free of mucus and liquid is crucial.”

You were nodding almost robotically, your fingertips just brushing his hair back and forth with no particular rhyme or reason. Just touching him.

“His fever has yet to break but it’s lowered dramat—is she even listening to me?” Hershel finally asked Carol, who chuckled and leaned across Daryl to clasp your shoulder until you looked at her.

“Watch how he breathes, don’t let it get too slow. Only for an hour or so. Get him to cough and drink when he wakes up. Fever has come down but hasn’t broken. I’ll come tell you when to give him more tylenol. Okay?”

You smiled, both embarrassed and grateful. “Okay.” With a nod to Hershel and an eye roll at Carol’s wink, you watched them shut the door.

Your hand on his cheek had to be freezing. They had just said his fever was down but he felt like a furnace to you. Shit. You were still in the clothes you had been wearing out in the snow. Coat, boots, jeans, and one pair of socks were quickly shed, you were in your sweater and leggings with your thicker socks still covering your feet. You’d been gone long enough and couldn’t seem to wait another second to crawl onto the bed with him. He shivered once but settled, his head turning toward you. You thought for a moment he might wake but he remained still.

With a deep breath, you settled yourself against his shoulder so that you could look up at his face. “I know you’re going to be mad as fuck at me, and I get it. You have a right to be and I won’t tell you otherwise. I was careful, I promise.” Your palm settled on his chest, feeling his heart lazily thump against it. “I have a—well, it’s just a bruise. Hershel looked at it. Thumper’s okay. I’m okay.” Why were you even talking? He was sound asleep. “I didn’t like being away from you while you were so sick. I don’t think I would have liked it even if you weren’t sick.”

Your hand left his chest for your fingers to dance along his jaw while you admired just how peaceful he looked. No lines of worry or pain. Just resting, fully relaxed. Seeing him like that just made your own exhaustion compound into something nearly unavoidable. With a large yawn, you snuggled closer and placed your hand back on his chest, counting his breaths like sheep. You knew you were losing the battle to stay awake, a tinge of worry sparking to life in your chest until you felt him move, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. He wasn’t so sedated that he couldn’t move.

Sighing, you smiled and finally let your eyes drift closed. “I love you.” You whispered, too far gone to react when the hand sporting the IV came to rest on top of yours.

“Me too, crazy girl.”

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ozzgin · 5 months

Note

I can order a yandere cute (kawaii), who maybe because of his cute and innocent appearance managed to get close to his beloved, but maybe this boy is not only cute and has a very disturbing past...

When you described a cute yandere with a messed up past, all I could think of was Kanato from Diabolik Lovers. This one's less of an asshole though. Hopefully. I also wasn't sure what you had in mind for 'disturbing past', I may have gone overboard.

Cute!Twisted! Yandere x Reader

Children will say the strangest things. Such as the marriage promise you’ve received from the little boy you befriended a long time ago, when you were rather young yourself. Yet sometimes the words aren’t entirely devoid of meaning. He definitely hasn’t forgotten his intentions, and your current fiancé is a mere delay to his plans.

TW: mentions of abuse, obsessive behavior, violence, small age gap, death

He still remembers the day you met, so clearly and vividly. His most cherished memory.

It was particularly cold despite the sun and his feet were hurting. He didn't have the time to put any shoes on, he ran out the moment he'd heard the sound of glass breaking.

Mother was so scary when she'd get upset. The bulging eyes, the screaming mouth, the wild hair scattered over her face, darkening her features.

What if she were to follow him outside? No, she was never mean in front of others. Then again, the street was empty...He bit apart the skin on his fingers in panic.

"Isn't it a bit late for pajamas?"

His eyes darted up and met hers. A girl somewhat taller and older, holding a basketball under her arm and staring intently, visibly confused. He was, after all, shivering outside by himself, barefoot and in sleeping garments in bright daylight. He blushed in embarrassment.

"I snuck out for some fresh air."

"Rebellious already, huh?" She smirked and walked over, dropping herself on the sidewalk next to him. "I'm (Y/N). Do you live in the area? We could hang out when you feel like it. No need to sit by yourself."

She pointed to a house unexpectedly close. Has she always been nearby? Then again, he was never allowed outside. Besides the spontaneous escapades in order to avoid the burning rage, he didn't see other people much. It had always been him and Mother.

For his own good, really. At least that's what Mother used to say. When she wasn't angry, she'd cry and hold him tight, telling him how much she pities him between hiccups and candid sobs. A vile creature like him would surely be mocked by the rest of the world. Not his fault, the poor little angel. Alas, his miserable fate still had a glimpse of hope, because Mother would never abandon him. He would always find acceptance from her all-forgiving heart.

And yet, there was always the seed of suspicion in the depths of his mind. Her sweet, soothing words felt like a hot slap over the blooming wounds already adorning his body, shaping a paradox.

Then he met you. You didn't seem to be disturbed by his presence. The following days, whenever he approached you, you'd welcome him with the same warm smile. Just like you promised. He couldn't find the ridicule he'd so often been warned about.

The puzzle pieces didn't fit together, and it became painfully obvious once Mother confronted him about his secret outings. Somehow her wrath had faded. Her shouts were mere waves echoing from somewhere distant, only grazing by his ears. She must've noticed his indifference, too, because she began rummaging her pockets for the basement key. Perhaps an old fashioned discipline would have helped him regain his voice. But the dark, cramped walls of the basement no longer frightened him. During his time spent outside, he had discovered a fact of stunning novelty:

He didn't have to listen to her. Staring into her ferocious, bottomless pits, he only found the reflection of (Y/N)'s face. Her peaceful, loving expression, devoid of pain, or fury, or punishment.

His little hands reached for the box cutter.

"It's you that has to go downstairs, Mother. You're a liar. I hate liars."

Was it the right choice? His small outburst had ultimately cost him your company. That evening he politely called emergency to let them know his Mother had gone mad. And so they dispatched a couple of officers to investigate the gruesome cadaver, sprawled along the stairs with too many gashes to count. They shyly investigated the basement, and a social worker carefully inspected the little boy's abundant markings. This couldn't have been a suicide, but the tearful, frightened eyes of the child kept them from pressing further. Whoever had stepped foot into their home that day most likely did him a favor. Nonetheless, he was now essentially orphaned, requiring an adult, and was swiftly shipped to the first available relative.

He didn't have the time to meet you one last time. A shameful departure given his final meeting: completely inebriated with ardent affection, he dared to present to you his innermost wish. One day he'd marry you, he was certain of it. You chuckled and extended your pinky finger reassuringly. A sealed deal.

All he had was your name and your promise and God, how dearly he clung to them every night, every passing year. His true glimmer of hope.

You're scrolling through your emails, waiting for the bus to arrive, when a gentle tap on the shoulder startles you. Behind you is a young man, although the soft, feminine features give him more of an androgynous appearance.

"May I help you?"

"You're (Y/N), aren't you?" he bats his eyelashes expectantly.

"I am, but how do you-"

You gaze at the stranger intently. The big, innocent eyes, the childish demeanor, there's a certain familiarity to it. Who could it be? Suddenly you're overwhelmed by nostalgia.

"It's you! How many years...? And you haven't changed one bit!" You laugh merrily at the sight of your shy, quiet friend, all grown up.

"H-hey now, surely I look more mature this time." He tries to emulate a somber frown as a way to prove his adulthood. "Do you have time? I'd love to catch up."

He missed you so much.

"Right now is a little difficult, but I'll tell you what. Why don't you come over to our place in the near future?"

Huh?

"This way I can introduce you to my fiancé!" You flash him your phone in order to exchange numbers, enthusiastic about the surprise reunion.

He vacantly stares at the lockscreen depicting an unknown man holding you close to him. When he searched for your name online, he didn't find anything regarding a relationship. He didn't expect this. He shouldn't have expected this. His fingers tighten around the small velvet box in his pocket.

Did you forget your promise to him? Or was everything a lie? No, you wouldn't...you couldn't...He fucking hates liars. But you're not one of them, are you? You're not like Mother. No, no, no, no. Breathe. It's his fault. Of course, naturally. He vanished without a word and you must've thought he abandoned you. How careless of him. How terribly rude to blame you for his mistakes. It's okay, it's alright. He'll make it up to you. Sweet, darling (Y/N).

"Are you okay?"

He looks up and notices your worried face.

"Me? Yes, definitely. I was just a little surprised. Hehe. Who would've thought?" He grins and winks at you. "I have an even better idea! Why don't you two come to my apartment instead? I never got the chance to congratulate you for your engagement."

"Gosh, haha, don't worry about i-"

"Please. Pretty please?" He pouts dramatically, holding onto your coat, and you blush slightly at the adorable display. "It's my way of thanking you for the nice childhood memories."

"You really have your way to convince people, huh?" You ruffle his hair and he lowers his head, enjoying the touch. "I'll let my fiancé know."

"Such a cozy place you got yourself!" You beam at the lovely atmosphere of the room. Everything is bright and inviting.

"Uh huh. The ladies must love you." Your fiancé follows up in agreement, snacking on the fancy appetizers.

The young man places a tray on the table and hands you both a glass of sparkling wine.

"Do you live alone? I refuse to believe you don't have a girlfriend." You joke and turn to your partner. "He was a real loner back then. Never saw him around other kids."

"Don't out me like that, (Y/N)!" He pinches your cheek humorously. "As a matter of fact, I do have a girlfriend."

Your fiancé raises his eyebrows, encouraging the boy to continue with details, while he gulps down the pleasantly aromatic drink. Must be expensive.

"Then why didn't you bring her here? I want to meet her!" You whine.

The man fiddles with his glass, observing the air bubbles that rush to the surface.

"You already know her."

"Oh?"

Distracted by this knowledge, you stretch for your own glass and accidentally grab the one belonging to your fiancé. Before you can bring it to your lips, your head swings to the side and you can instantly feel your cheek throb, numb from the abrupt impact of someone's hand.

"Don't fucking touch it!"

Your childhood friend is standing before you, equally shocked by his act. He stares at his reddening palm and his face twists in terror.

"I-I'm...Oh God...I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I just, I didn't know what else to do. You have to understand, please. I'd never-"

As you listen to his erratic apology, you hear the wheezing coughs of your fiancé. His breathing is irregular and he scratches his throat, unable to verbalize his struggle to you. A white foam begins to form in the corners of his mouth. You try to get up, but the man's fingers dig into your face, forcing you back on the chair.

"Shhh shhh, it sounds uglier than it actually is. Trust me. Do you see now? I had to be a little rough, otherwise you would've gotten hurt. Hey! Look at me." He cups your cheeks with both of his hands, squatting in front of you. "Let him settle down. It won't be long."

Your vision becomes blurry.

"He needs an ambulance. Please. What did you do with the drinks?" You manage to blurt out.

"Won't make a difference."

He rests his gaze on your features for a few moments, admiring them dreamily.

"It breaks my heart when you're sad like this. Didn't I say this is an engagement celebration?"

Without breaking eye contact, he pulls out his treasured box and opens it in your lap, revealing a ring.

"I know I disappeared without a word, but I truly had no choice. This is my way of begging for your forgiveness. Not a day went by without thinking of you, (Y/N). I, heh...I actually got this many years ago. Just carried it in my pocket in case I ever found you again."

He giggles awkwardly, stroking your cheek protectively.

"So don't cry. I've kept my promise after all, didn't I? Aren't you proud of me~?"

By the time his little speech ends, the room has filled with silence. Your fiancé is slouching on the chair, still and quiet. The young boy picks up your limp body, humming cheerfully.

"You'll be the prettiest bride in the world.

Mine and mine only."

#female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere original character #yandere childhood friend #tw yandere

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elliesbelle · 11 months

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 6

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, messy lesbian relationships/situationships, loser!ellie makes an appearance for 0.5 seconds, brief and indirection mention of marijuana, mentions of death, brief mention of reader's genitals (implies that reader has a vagina, but if you headcanon reader as a trans girl w/a penis, just pretend it's a metaphorical vagina, i fully encourage it), sexual speech and content (not fully smut but there are drops of it), depictions of nudity, minors do not interact

word count: 4.6k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

Abigail Anderson. Pre-med student. Rugby star. A brief hook-up from freshman year.

And now approaching your frozen figure at a rather fast pace.

As your shocked face emerges from behind the football you're still holding in your hands, Abby begins to register who it was that she’d almost killed via pigskin.

“Oh, shit!” She murmurs your name as her jog comes to a stop at your feet. “I’m so sorry, my friend Jordan was being a dick. I meant to catch that.”

You let out a nervous chuckle as your trembling fingers lift the football up to her.

“Oh, it’s okay. My life definitely flashed before my eyes, but I’m alright otherwise.” You give her a smile.

She returns it with a crooked one of her own, her fingers softly brushing against yours as she takes the football from you.

“Well, you still look alive and pretty,” Abby says, tucking the ball underneath an arm. “And those were some impressive reflexes, I gotta say.”

“Just practicing in case of a zombie apocalypse.” You joke, cheeks burning ever so slightly at her calling you pretty. “We can’t all be built like Themysciran Amazons the way you are.”

“Themy-what?” Abby asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and chuckling.

Your face erupts in flames in embarrassment from your geeky comic book reference.

“Y-you know,” You stammer. “Like Wonder Woman. She’s from that island where it’s only women and they’re all these gorgeous, buff warriors who’ve renounced men.”

Abby laugh.

“Really? Well, thank you. You’re very cute for thinking I’m some hot warrior chick who’ll survive a zombie apocalypse.”

Before you can respond, she continues.

“How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around much.”

“Hey, I’ve been around.” You lie. You really haven’t been. “Probably haven’t noticed being an aspiring doctor and all.”

“Still remember that, huh?” She smiles.

“Of course.” You say, returning her smile.

Freshman Year, Fall

You met Abby Anderson at the beginning of your freshman year when she was a sophomore.

Being in a new and independent environment, you did what many single freshmen do upon first arriving: scoured the dating apps.

Fresh out of a messy high school relationship, you came to college a little raw and emotionally vulnerable. You jumped into a casual relationship with a girl named Adriana within the first month of arriving on campus. After a drunken night of you and your roommate Tara recklessly swiping through your profile on a dating app, you somehow and hesitantly found yourself with a girlfriend after just two dates.

The best word you would use to describe Adriana was nice. She was a pleasant person: brought you out on cute dates, paid for your food, always held your hand. You spent the two weeks of dating her trying to convince yourself that you were as into her as she was into you. But the further you tried to force attraction for her, the less interested you became. Then she introduced you to her friend, Abby Anderson.

Abby was the kind of person that closeted gay girls would develop their first gay crush on at their initial glance. She was bold and exuded a sense of confidence & charisma that most 20-somethings haven’t achieved yet. People knew who she was when she walked around campus, whether personally or through reputation. Abby made friends quickly and kept them easily, so it was no shock that you got along very well with her when Adriana first introduced you.

You pretended at the time not to notice the way Abby looked you up and down when first laying eyes on you. It was a quick glance and she pulled it off well enough that nobody else but you had caught it. You were amused by the way that Abby had held out her hand to you upon meeting. None of Adriana’s other friends had offered a handshake, and you chuckled quietly as you introduced yourself to her.

Is she for real? A little prim and proper, you’d thought. You’d later find out it was merely her excuse to initiate physical contact.

You’d originally come over to Adriana’s dorm to meet her friends, but you’d spent most of the time talking with Abby. She was very charming, keeping you engaged in conversation as if she’d known you for months already. She would ask you questions about yourself, seeming to be genuinely interested in your responses. It was effortless to keep up a banter with her, and she had you laughing in a way Adriana hadn’t been able to elicit from you herself. You weren’t fawning over Abby the way newly-discovered gays constantly were, but you were intrigued. By the end of the hang-out, you’d already exchanged numbers and socials.

When Adriana amicably broke up with you a week later, saying that she felt as if “your heart didn’t seem quite into this” and “she’d like to see you comfortable” and “we honestly seem like we would vibe better as friends” over a phone call, you’d felt a wave of relief followed by a pang of guilt. You could tell that Adriana really didn’t feel any ill will towards you, but it did feel indecent that all you got out of the relationship was a mended heart as a result of the rebound. That, and a very interested Abby Anderson.

It didn’t take a week since your split from Adriana that Abby was flirtatiously commenting under your Instagram posts or sending you at least ten snaps on Snapchat daily or messaging you borderline thirst traps accompanied by texts that were asking for your “opinion on her gym progress.” It was a mere five days since the break-up that you were dolling yourself up a bit to go hang out with Abby in her dorm room, just the two of you.

Most of your friends playfully teased you about the position you’d placed yourself in. Hooking up with a recent ex’s friend seemed messy, but they encouraged you to put yourself out there all the same. Never having actually gone all the way with Adriana, they all hyped you up to hook up with Abby. All but one.

“You’re judging me!” You said, lightly smacking Ellie’s arm.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes at you.

“I literally didn’t say anything, dude.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” You returned her eye roll with your own before jumping off your bed to walk towards your closet.

“Just sounds like a guilty conscience to me.” She shrugged, leaning back onto your headboard.

You sighed and said, “Should I feel guilty, though?”

Ellie shrugged again nonchalantly before saying, “Not gonna tell you how to feel.”

“I just want to know your opinion!”

“It’s your love life, dude. It’s up to you, not me.”

“I know that! But what do you think I should do?”

“Make your own decisions.” She chuckled once more.

You groaned, turning away from her to continue rifling through your closet.

“You’re so fucking useless.” You complained, fingers weaving between hangers as you tried to select an outfit to see Abby later that day.

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” Ellie replied, resting the palms of her hands on the back of her head as she watched you.

Despite yourself, you giggled quietly. As you continued to browse through your wardrobe, you felt Ellie’s ocean green eyes trailing your every movement. You kept your back turned to her, hiding the flames tickling your cheeks.

You hadn’t bothered the rest of your friends about this the way you did Ellie. They’d all given their blessing for you to sleep with Abby, but Ellie? Ellie was persistent in remaining mysteriously neutral. She refused to voice any kind of personal bias. She didn’t seem disinterested, but she also withheld offering up her genuine opinion on your Abby situation. And for some reason, this bothered you. Something about her unhelpfulness compelled you to pester her about it. You knew you didn’t need Ellie’s approval. So why did it feel like you did?

Ellie watched as you picked out a short dark blue dress, spreading it out on your bed next to her. She listened to you question yourself out loud on whether you should wear fishnet stockings underneath it or just go bare. She felt the way your fingers lingered when brushing softly against hers after she handed you your silver hoop earrings laying next to her on your bedside table. She inhaled your signature lavender scent as you slowly caressed your arms and legs up and down while applying your favourite lotion.

It felt so strange, prettying yourself up for another girl while Ellie sat on your bed and watched. She and you were just friends. You’ve never been anything more than that. Why did it feel strange, then?

Are we though? Just friends?

The way you’d stare at the way her big, calloused hands moved when she’d be rolling a joint or etching in her journal. The way she observed the exact manner your lips moved every time you spoke or laughed. The way you always noticed when she’d trace that intricate arm tattoo of hers when she’d get lost in thought. The way she watched exactly how your smile would often meet your soft eyes.

Is this just friendship?

Ellie observed as you sat at your desk and carefully began applying your makeup, scooting towards the foot of your bed to better marvel at your technique. She’d begun to learn the routine you had by heart, mesmerized by how carefully and naturally your hands moved in a creative dance. She blurted out a compliment about how you were an artist for the way you did your makeup. You attempted to brush it off, but she insisted. You’re the artist here, she’d said.

After finishing applying a shade of dark red lipstick, you gave yourself one last satisfied look in your mirror. You got up and began to shake your hair out of the bun it was in, walking to the foot of your bed where both your dress and Ellie waited. You looked at your chosen attire for the night and were suddenly hit with a predicament.

“Umm, Ellie?”

“What’s up, man?”

“D-do you think you could help me with something?”

“Uh… sure?”

Your fingers fiddled with the bottom of your t-shirt. Your face flushed for what felt like the millionth time today.

“C-can you help me put my dress on?”

Ellie looked like someone dumped a bucket of ice-cold water right over her head.

“What?”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you’d picked up from her.

“I forgot how t-tight this dress is, and I might fuck up my makeup if I just pull it on myself. Can you help me g-get it on?”

Ellie’s face remained unreadable as she looked you up and down.

“Yeah, okay.” She said finally.

“T-thanks.” You said, nervously biting the inside of your cheek.

Normal friends do not get nervous when they ask their friends to help them get dressed.

“Just…just one second.” You said, meekly holding a finger up before turning your back to her.

As you profusely thanked past you for already putting on your desired underwear for tonight, you carefully peeled off your t-shirt and threw it to the side. Though you had your back to her, you could feel Ellie’s gaze land on the black lace bra you’d decided on earlier. When you shed your pajama shorts, her eyes then drifted onto the matching black lace panties that left very little to the imagination.

She quickly averted her stare as you turned to face her, not fully meeting each other’s eyes.

“Do you think you could—?” You gestured to your dress next to her on the bed.

“Yeah.” She said, picking it up before approaching you.

You watched her face as she lifted the dress above your head. Her tense fingers gripped the collar tightly as you raised your arms. You felt goosebumps form where her hands inadvertently brushed against your skin, lowering the dress onto your figure. As you fit your head and arms through, she pulled the dress all the way down to your thighs. You tugged your hair out from the collar and let it fall behind you when your eyes met hers.

“Uhh,” She said awkwardly. “Your lipstick…”

Your right hand flew up to your mouth.

“Oh shit, did it smudge—?”

“Yeah, a little, but it’s okay, I got it.”

“Wh—“

Before you could react any further, Ellie licked her thumb and brought it to the edge of your bottom lip. It was as though your entire body was set on fire the exact second that you felt the wetness from her finger meet the corner of your mouth. Her eyebrows furrowed as she rubbed off the small streaks of smeared lipstick. You could have sworn she could hear how loud your heart was beating in the moment, feel the way it echoed through your entire body. You felt your mouth water as your eyes fell on her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. Someone could easily sneak into your room right now and rob you blind, the way you both remained completely encaptured in this moment.

“There,” Ellie whispered. “Got it.”

Her thumb slowly drifted from your lip to your cheek, her hand suddenly caressing your face. You were frozen in place, trying not to combust as every cell in your body danced fervently. Her ocean green irises kept darting back and forth between your eyes and your crimson lips. Both your mouths were parted, the unsaid at the tip of both your tongues, waiting for whoever was bravest to let the truth drip out.

But instead, after what felt like twenty-five years, Ellie let her hand drop from your face back to her side. She swallowed and cleared her throat, breaking eye contact with you to stare at the floor. You blinked and gulped, quickly plummeting back to reality.

“Th-thanks, El.”

“No problem, bro.”

“Bro.” Ugh. Okay, Ellie.

You were far less clothed a minute ago, and yet somehow you now were feeling much more naked than ever before.

“I-I think I left the shoes I want across the hall in Sidney’s room. Give me a sec?”

“Yeah, man. Go ahead.”

You nodded and retreated quickly out the door. As you shut it behind you, you leaned against it and clutched at your chest with both hands.

Oh god, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck. What just happened? What the fuck. Fuck.

Inside your room and unbeknownst to you, Ellie was leaning against her side of the door, quietly cursing to herself.

“Did I really just fucking do that? What the fuck, oh my fucking god. God damn it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

You blinked.

“Yes! Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”

You adjusted yourself under the covers to turn more towards Abby. Your previously glassy eyes met her concerned ones.

“Was it that bad?” She joked.

“No, oh my god, Abby,” You giggled, covering your face with your hands. “I think you getting me to cum twice in less than a minute speaks for itself.”

Abby smirked.

“Only twice? Wanna add a couple more to that?” She said, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you better.

“I think my pussy needs a sec before you make her see heaven again.” You replied.

“Mmm,” was all Abby said in reply, drinking in your naked figure in her bed.

The rest of the evening seemed surreal. Ellie had watched you finish getting ready, remaining mostly quiet for the rest of the time. She didn’t touch you again, almost as if she was afraid to. She’d walked you partway to Abby’s building before giving the excuse that she had some client she needed to meet. Her signature Converse stormed off without a second glance back at you. As you waved her off, you thought about how she didn’t have anything on her to sell, and you both knew it.

Throughout the entire night with Abby, though you allowed yourself to unwind and have some fun for once, your thoughts still continued to dance back incessantly to your auburn-haired friend.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Abby asked.

“Just taking a minute and being impressed by you.”

Abby laughed.

“So not that bad, huh?” She joked. “But really. What’s up?”

You pursed your lips. You liked Abby, but she did not need to know all about this “friendship” of yours with Ellie.

“Not gonna lie,” You said, quickly coming up with a lie. “I was feeling really guilty before coming here tonight. Just cause Adriana’s your friend and we just broke up.”

It wasn’t completely far from the truth. You were feeling guilty about seeing Abby after Adriana. But she wasn’t the lesbian who you couldn’t get out of your head all night.

“Mm, that does make sense.” Abby replied, understanding. “It’s true, though. What I said earlier. Adriana did say it was okay.”

Sometime after you’d arrived at Abby’s dorm and before you’d both dropped the pretense of you coming over just to “hang out,” Abby disclosed that she’d asked for Adriana’s permission to fool around with you already. You were a bit surprised, but pleasantly so. You did come here tonight with specific intentions, but it did relieve you to know that Adriana meant it when she’d expressed no ill will towards you. And it kindled a warmth in you that Abby’d gone into this prepared and still with the respect of her friend.

“No, I know,” You said, the crease between your eyebrows crinkling as you thought up a quick lie. “I just… I still like Adriana as a person and I didn’t want my wandering vagina to get in the way of your friendship with her.”

Abby suddenly guffawed, her laugh so infectious and genuine that it made you giggle in response.

“D-did you just say ‘wandering vagina,’ oh my g—” She chortled. “Never heard that before.”

You shrugged, smiling at how easily amused Abby has been turning out to be.

“You say the strangest shit, you know?” Abby said, still chuckling.

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” You replied, to which Abby smiled.

“But really though,” Abby continued. “You don’t have to worry about me and Adriana. We’re still cool; nothing’s changed in our friendship. You both told me you weren’t serious, and she’s also just someone who’s never been possessive or jealous as a person. We’re all adults here, so no need to feel guilty. I promise.”

“Yeah, that…that does help.” You said, hoping that answer would suffice for Abby.

Abby seemed like she wanted to press more but decided against it. Instead, she grabbed your hips all of a sudden and lifted you up to place you on top of her, making you straddle her waist.

“Wh—Abby!” You said, startled. Your arms instinctively flew up to cover your bare breasts, the bed covers no longer shrouding your nakedness.

Abby chuckled, reaching up to your wrists and pulling them away from your chest.

“Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you have such a serious thinking face on?” She said.

A bashful look crossed your face as you stuttered a quiet “no” in response.

Abby smirked, dropping your wrists and placing her hands on your waist, tracing up and down your inner thighs with her thumbs. Your breath hitched and you gulped, feeling yourself instinctively grind against her.

“Well, you are.” She said. “And you’re cute, acting all shy about being naked in front of me like I wasn’t just knuckles deep inside you ten minutes ago.”

You bit your lip, partly from embarrassment and partly because Abby’s tracing of your thighs turned into squeezing.

“Y-you w-weren’t… knuckles-deep…” You stammered.

Abby chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Why the hell are you correcting me on how far inside of you I was anatomically?” She asked, extremely amused.

“I don’t know!” You said, flustered and rolling your eyes.

Abby chuckled, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist to keep you steady as she sat up to be at eye-level with you. With her free hand, she firmly gripped your chin between her large fingers and forced your eyes to meet hers.

“You’re very easy to fluster, you know.” She whispered.

“I-I—” was all that you could get out before Abby’s lips found yours. The sentence you’d meant to continue instead turned into a quiet shriek of surprise then into a lustful sigh that melted into the kiss.

Not ten seconds later, Abby pulled away slightly, a cocky look on her face.

“Any more anatomical complaints, then?” She murmured.

“Not at all, Dr. Anderson.” You chuckled breathlessly.

You jolted as Abby laughed again all of a sudden, grabbing both your shoulders for support.

“Was it… that funny?” You chuckled, a little confused.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Abby said. “It’s just that—my dad was Dr. Anderson.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he was a doctor.” She explained. “Before he passed, he used to be a surgeon back when my family and I lived in Utah.”

Shit, her dad. Of course.

Abby had mentioned her father to you several times already. You didn’t know much about him other than the fact that Abby completely adored the man and that he had died when she was only 16.

“Right, makes sense.” You said, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Abby’s father didn’t seem like an off-limits topic with her. In fact, you were in awe of how at peace she was with it. She seemed happy to talk about her dad, somehow able to acknowledge his passing and yet speak of him as if he was always present in a way. She didn’t make it uncomfortable to ask about him, and you often had the impression that she actually preferred it when others didn’t fuss over it. So you made sure not to.

“So no to calling you Dr. Anderson, then?” You asked.

“Well, actually,” Abby embraced your waist and pulled you closer to her body. “Kind of studying to be a doctor. Like him.”

“Wait, really?” You replied, a bit of shock in your voice. “How did I not know that?”

“Don’t really know, pretty girl,” She replied, smirking. “Got too distracted by my washboard abs to notice?”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.” You scoffed, smiling and rolling your eyes.

Abby chuckled before leaning into your neck to leave trails of kisses.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re also very cute when you have a little bit of an attitude?” She asked, lifting her head up slightly in between kisses.

“Mm, I don’t know,” You sighed, pulling her further into you and trying not to grind too eagerly against her once again. “Maybe once or twice. But why don’t you remind me, Dr. Anderson?”

You heard Abby suddenly moan in your ear, almost growling, before you were suddenly thrown on your back onto the bed. Any words that meant to roll off your tongue were replaced instead with cries of pleasure as your knees were pried apart with Abby’s strong hands, her mouth finding ways to answer your question without words.

Present Day

“So still planning on becoming a surgeon, then?” You ask.

“Starting med school immediately after I graduate this year.” Abby replies.

“Wow,” You say, impressed. “That’s really soon. Are you nervous about it?”

“Hmm, not nervous, exactly,” Abby replies, thinking. “I grew up around doctor shit, so I have a tiny idea of what I’m facing. I’m choosing to stay positive about it all for now.”

“Commendable,” You smile. “How the hell have you been surviving all your pre-med shit with sports and all?”

“Hey,” She says, shrugging. “You said it yourself. I’m basically a superhero.”

You chuckle. You’ve forgotten just how confident Abby is and how attractive it was to see it in action.

“Right, of course. How could I forget?”

“You know, maybe if I really was Wonder Woman, I could attend my next class and get a coffee with you right now. If you’re not busy, that is.”

“That is not how Wonder Woman works, Abby.” You say, giggling.

“Oh, whatever.” Abby laughs, rolling her eyes. “Forgot just how much of a nerd you were, pretty girl.”

“Hey—” You start.

“YO ABS, are you gonna throw that shit back or keep flirting with hot chicks?!” A voice behind Abby calls.

Abby grunts in annoyance, turning around to face her friend Jordan who was several feet away from where you both were.

“Stop throwing like a little bitch and we wouldn’t be having this problem, dumbass!” She calls back at him, to which he replies with a playful, “Oh, fuck off!”

You watch as Abby draws back, arms flexing as she throws the football in a quick, perfect spiral towards Jordan. He catches it, but not before it makes a loud thud against his chest.

“OW, FUCK—" He shouts in pain.

“Dumbass!” She hollers in response.

You're both chuckling when she turns back to face you.

“Need to go?” You ask.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m busy flirting with hot chicks. Well, just one hot chick.”

Your purse your lips, sheepish.

“So,” She said. “Coffee?”

“Abby, you just said you had a class to get to in a bit. Also,” You gesture to your mostly-empty coffee cup still next to you in the grass. “Beat you to the punch.”

“Ah, fuck.”

“Sorry,” You chuckle. “I’ve also got class in,” You checked your phone for the time. “Around five minutes or so.”

“Wow, you really wanna avoid getting a coffee with me that bad, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely. I premeditatedly mapped out my entire class schedule this semester just so I didn’t have to hang out with you right at this moment.” You joke.

“I knew it.”

You laugh.

“Can I at least walk you to class, though?” Abby asks.

“Sure,” You replies. “But what about your class?”

“Got a bit of time; don’t worry about it.”

You smile before you gather your things together quickly. You reach for your coffee cup but it disappears suddenly before your hand is even inches from it.

“Abby!” You exclaim, jumping up onto your feet as you quickly pull your backpack on.

“What?” She questions, walking backwards while still facing you to throw your coffee cup away in a nearby trash can.

“I can’t throw away my own trash?”

“Just being helpful.” She says, shrugging.

“You can’t be both a superhero and some chivalrous lesbian knight.”

“I can do whatever I want, pretty girl.”

You feel your face getting hot once more.

“So,” She starts. “Which way is your next class?” She begins walking in the wrong direction.

“About twenty feet east of where you’re heading, silly.”

“Oh, uhh…” Abby stops in her tracks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration while processing your directions.

You laugh and roll your eyes, grabbing her arm and leading her towards the building your next class was in.

“Straley Hall, right in front of you, dummy. Remind me never to travel across the country with you.” You say.

“What kind of nerd actually says ‘east’ when giving directions!” She complains.

“That’s a perfectly normal thing to say!”

“Why are the cutest girls always the weirdest ones?” Abby says, shaking her head.

You looked away from her, trying to hide your embarrassed smile.

“How are you supposed to save people’s lives when you don’t even understand simple directions, Dr. Anderson?”

She smirks at your comment and her lips form to reply with a retort of their own.

Just a few feet down the brick college road, Ellie stands frozen on the spot. Her hands are balled up in fists and her jaw is clenched. Her ocean green eyes trail after your unknowing figure, fixating on the wide smile on your lips as you let out peals of genuine laughter and your fingers still gently caressing the bicep of golden girl and star athlete, Abigail Anderson.

author's notes:

HAHAHAHA "in case of a zombie apocalypse" get it, cause the game is set in a zomb—yeah y'all get it (sorry not really)

let's all take a brief sexy second together and imagine abby as amazon from themyscira... now let's all let out the collective horny sigh together.

thank you all for being so patient waiting for this one. life has been... yeah (if you've been keeping up with the personal stuff I've said on my blog the last week, that should add more context to what a shit my life has been recently). i've been having to push myself with writing lately cause i feel like i'm getting too into my head about it. but thank y'all so much for being supportive and all, thank you for not giving up on me!

not gonna lie, loves. i may have gotten extremely horny writing certain scenes in this and had to take multiple breaks because my mind was concocting too many distracting scenarios as a result (the ellie scene took me days to get through to write, i'm so dead serious, and the smut-adjacent abby scene almost turned into a full-fledged smut scene cause i'm such a fucking lesbian, oops, i genuinely had to restrain myself so i could write the story the way i actually have it planned out).

abby having no sense of direction at the end of the chapter is just a personal reference to me when i played tlou2 for the first time and when i was playing as abby at the very start when she's mad at owen for getting mel pregnant and trying to go after joel on her own, i got lost for like 10 minutes just going in circles in the fucking woods and snow like a moron. just wanted to be a little bit silly by creating no sense of direction!abby hehe

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @ximtiredx, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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writingoddess1125 · 5 months

Note

Yes Buggy and his hot wife are Roger and Jessica Rabbit, but if I may submit this comparison to the council:

✨Buggy and his wife are The Grinch and Martha May Whovier✨

Oh It Is ON!

In the spirit of the Winter Holiday Spirits! We are doing a Christmas Spin on My Effect Series!

So get you a egg nog with 90% rum maybe some holiday 'cigarettes' sit back and enjoy this clusterfuck idea! 🍃 🚬

P.S IM REALLY HIGH WHILE WRITING THIS SO ITS PROBABLY ALL OVER THE PLACE! ENJOY!

The Grinch and Martha May Effect 🎄

If you like my shit, support me on Ko-Fi because recession!

Link to Main Masterlist

• This Crusty Bastard has had the heart of the most beautiful women in the world.

• And didn't even realize it-

• You had all met on Gol D Roger's ship- Buggy being a snot nosed apprentice with his gaggle of friends- While you being one of the few girls on the ship was a cup bearer for your father. Silvers Rayleigh.

• This made you incredibly off limits to all, Sheltered by a life of luxury your father provided as your only real 'job' was to fill his cup. Even Gol D Roger the famed Captian spoiled you in cute dresses and expensive bows.

• Turning you into the Doll of the Oro Jackson.

• A Princess Wrapped in Silver and Gold

• You still remembered the first day you ment him-

• Both of you 13 years old, fresh faced kids still needing the guidance of adults.

• You'd snuck off from your normal areas, wanting to explore the ship some more. That's till you saw a boy- His face covered in what seemed to be gunpowder as he filled homemade bombs with total care.

• His blue hair peaking out of the red hat and drawing you to step a big closer to get a better look.

• The Tull of your sparkling dress catching the corner of his eye as he spun around quickly holding a knife out.

• Then, Ocean eyes met Your own and time seemed to slow. Ever so slightly- Your cheeks warming as you gave a soft smile.

• "Hello" Your little voice slipped out, Buggy stating at you with unsure interest. A crooked smile on his lips as he greeting you quickly- "H-Hi!"

• "Is something wrong with your nose? It looks kinda funny" Buggy glares hard at you, making you blink in question at his reaction.

• Buggy covering his face, his ocean eyes starting to cloud with tears like a storm eyed he stared at you. "Whats so funny about my nose!? Huh!"

• "Well don't get angry- I don't mind. I think its cute. Im sorry if i offended you" You smile so sweetly, feeling bad for making his sad as Buggy felt his face start to glow.

• "You think.. My nose is cute?" He questioned, making you nod honestly. He giggled into his hands, a high pitch squeaky laugh that made you smile and your heart flutter.

• "Whats your name?" He grins at you, Hearing you actually want to know about him. "Buggy! What about you pretty girl?" Your face flushing at his words.

• "I'm-"

• "(Y/N)!" You heard your name being called before you could speak, recognizing the voice of your father.

• "(Y/N)- That's such a pretty name.. Will I see you again?" Buggy asked, his eyes sparking at such a chance. Your delicate hand reaching forward and tucking a strand of his blue hair back into his hat. "I will try"

• And try you did. For a year the two of you would meet, talking on the deck of the ship for hours till you had to sneak away again. Buggy even using his Chop Chop abilities to help you get back to your room.

• It was tragic to say, but you'd never get a chance to see Buggy for many many years after your 14th birthday- Your Father sending you to an Island to keep you safe as you entered your teens.

• The disbanding of the Roger Pirates aiding in this as well-

• The death and heartache Seeming to follow you as you found yourself handing in the hands of Sir Crocodile.

• Crocodile having had an interest to whoo you for years- as he too had met you on Gol D Roger's ship, finding you the only person more then suitable to be at his side.

• You had never truly accepted his advances, Despite his power, status and more. He didn't have your heart, and you wouldn't give him any part of yourself in compensation.

• Decades it had been like this, still the girl wrapped in silver and gold. Hoarded like treasure for everyone to admire, however nothing more.

• But it seemed the tides were beginning to change- After Crocodile time in Impel Down- as well as the formation of the Cross Guild- You would meet your blue haired friend once again. Just in a unique Flashy way

• AKA by his head being punched off by Crocodile and accidently flung into your waiting chest.

• "(Y/N)?-" He mumbled against your bust, your cheeks flaring deep crimson as he floated his head up to lock eyes with your flushed face.

• He got his ass beaten for that by Crocodile of course-

• But for you it was like your heart was Kickstart again!

• At the Cross Guild, you'd always attend. Crocodile assuming it was because you were warming up to him, But in truth it was to see Buggy-

• The two of you talking to each other constantly. He was so fascinating to you-

• Like you two were children again falling in love- Sitting out under the stars talking for hours. You tucking strands of his blue hair back into his hat, him fixing any Imperfections on yohr dresses as you sat next to him. Which often lead to Buggy giggling into his gloved hands while turning away from you

• You accepted him as he was, and adored him for it. You loved his mind, his passion, even his laziness and lewd humor.

• As time went on, you noticed the same for him. How he would ask you YOUR interest, what things YOU actually liked.

• Something no one had asked you since you were a child. Most just assuming your taste and interest.

• Hell when he came for meetings he would bring you something you'd actually want. Not just shiny things to make you look more valuable.

• "Hey (Y/N)!" Buggy cloaked towards you excited as he held out a old dirty crate to you. "I remeber you said you really liked weird plants, so I found these old books and scientist-y samples of the weirdest! Hope you like them!"

• You'd almost cried at the gift, so overfill with you you hugged Buggy. Before spending hours going through the crate and organizing it all to your liking.

• However with the sweets, came the sours...

• There had been countless times you'd walk into the Guild and see Buggys face. Beaten and bruised- How Crocodile and Mihawk kicked his ass as their own personal stress relief or just to show dominace.

• It broke your heart.. truly- Buggy humiliated like that infront of everyone time and time again... You would try to comfort him after the meetings but he would just run away- You swore you saw tears in his eyes a few times.

• You'd want to many times to have him run into your arms, so you could whisper how good of a man he is and deserving so love.

- It had been a particularly festive day in the Guild Hall, Crocodile dressing in a nicer suit as better food was served and fancy alcohol was served. You even being gifted a dress by the Desert King himself to wear today, you didn't refuse but felt rather uncomforble at how attentive he was acting with you.

And uncomfortable that he had purposely sat Buggy so far away from you..

As dinner was being served, Crocodile stood up from his seat next to you. Slapping his hand on the table to gather everyone's attention.

"I have an announcement-" Crocodile voice boomed through the room, you glancing up as the hook handed man gestured for you to stand. Which you silently did-

Oh No...

"(Y/N)- Daughter of Silvers Rayleigh. A women of greatness and deserving of only the finest of riches"

No...

"I ask for your hand- I swear I will give you all the wealth you desire"

Please No...

"From Riches, Silks and even the One Piece if your little mind wishes for it"

NO!

"Will you Marry me?"

Something inside you just snapped. Staring at Crocodile face that had the crooked cigar hanging from his lips.

Crocodile taking your silence positively as he handed you a velvet box with a massive diamond ring inside of it.

You stared at the ring box that had been placed in your glove hands and felt... nothing. Absolutely nothing...

Before A fire of rage filled your insides-

"We- We aren't even dating!-" You shouted, everyone looking to yoh in shock as you looked around wildly.

"What makes you think I want to stay by your side!? You were just ment to protect me not use me as a Scudo Girlfriend! I'm not yours nor will I ever be!-" Crocodile face starting to turn red, his eyes glancing around him before setting on you with a harsh glare.

"So I-I can't accept this" You finally hissed out, bright red in the face from both embarrassment and anger. Everyone in the Guild Hall staring at you in total shock.

"Besides My Heart... Belongs to someone else-" Crocodile eyes widen as he clenched his hands in rage. You handing the ring box back to him delicately, before turning to look at Buggy who had been picking his nose diassociating heavily at the dramatics. Only coming back to reality when he saw everyone was staring at him-

Buggy stares confused, 'Why are you all looking at me?' He looked behind himself first, Then around to see who you could be talking about, that had your heart. Realizing quickly he was alone and you actually ment HIM!

"Wait Me!?"

• After such a stunning yet shocking reveal, Crocodile cut you lose. Feeling you embarrassed him infront of everyone- Which had been the greatest day of your life!

• As you fly into Buggy's (Who got beaten senseless once again) arms. Who accepts you happily into his life-

• Frolicking away to his Circus Themed Ship in what can only be described as total Joy!

• "HAHAHAHAHA I WIN!!" He yells out, holding you in his arms as he flips off Crocodile once more and holds you in his arms.

• You adore his Flashy Crusty ways, the way he weirdly cackled and utter lack of emotional control.

• Oh How you love your Crusty Clown!

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #captain buggy #x female reader #the grinch #one piece buggy #op buggy #buggy #buggy x wife reader

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pedgito · 2 years

Text

rentals & records ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader.

summary: eddie can't hide the fact that he's sort of obsessed with you, but you can't deny that you might be secretly obsessed with him too.

cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, oral sex (f&m receiving), soft sex, virgin!eddie

word count: 11.4k. someone shut me up pls.

request are always open!

“I really need to know who rents this thing out so much that the entire cover is starting to fall apart.” Steve’s holding up a horrible worn out version of a Cheech & Chong movie you can’t decipher the title of. You squint, hard. It was pretty faded, pun absolutely intended. Reefer Rick was still in prison, so that counted him out immediately—there could be only one other culprit.

The familiar clang of the entrance bell startled you half to death, sending you whipping around to look behind you.

“Harrington! How’s it been?” Eddie Munson, of course.

“Eddie.” Steve nods in greeting, sounding exhausted already. You kick him in the shin, eyes sending him a look of warning when he yelps in pain. “What brings you in?”

You three already knew the answer to that question. It was you. Eddie had used every reason under the sun to find a way to come visit you while you were working. It was kind of endearing, you couldn’t lie. But, Eddie was a friend. He had always been just a friend.

“Just returning a rental.” Eddie replies, waving the VHS above his head.

“I’ve got it.” You assure Steve, who couldn’t be bothered to leave the mess of already disorganized rentals he had to sort through. You couldn’t tell if it was the girl trouble—or lack thereof, that Steve was having that was causing him to be in such a slump, or the general lack of disinterest in his job.

“Eddie.” Your voice is dripping with sweetness, fingertips dragging along the counter as you scoot in behind the front desk. “Just returning?”

“Might take a quick look around, if you don’t mind.” He tells you, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Unless you’ve got some suggestions, princess?”

You let out a soft ‘hmph’, shaking your head at the nickname he had come up with. It started sophomore year of high school, a shitty jab at how prissy you acted—a lot of that was part of hanging around with the wrong crowd. But, now you had Steve—you balanced each other out pretty well. The word felt different coming from his mouth now, a lot less bite behind it. You had always been friends, but never close enough that you spent time with him outside of school or sat with him at lunch, to busy with the swarm of girls that flocked around each other, you being suck right into the center of it all. That didn't stop the dizzying feeling you felt every time he set his eyes on you.

“I’m fresh out.” You assure him with a playful smirk, you hesitantly point in Steve’s direction. “But, we just got one of your favorites back in, if you wanna rent it out.”

“My favorite?” He teases, curling a stray strand of hand around his finger. It was almost criminal how beautiful his hair was, never a piece out of place, a true work of art. “You keepin’ tabs on me?”

“It’s in the system, Eddie.” It was his most frequented rental and always came back reeking of weed—something you didn’t even know to be possible. “You’ve rented it out sixteen times.”

“Oh.” He deflated slightly—he seemed a little ashamed, maybe? You didn’t find it weird, not really—there’s no way you could admit how many times you’ve watched The Breakfast Club, something you would carry with you to the grave.

“Steve!” You shout, grabbing his attention. Your head nods in the direction of Eddie—and like Steve was a mind reader, tosses the rental in your direction. You catch it with ease, tossing it on the counter. A stoner’s favorite, that was for sure.

“You rent these out to high school students?” Eddie asks from an obscure corner of the store—“Robocock. Huh, that’s fucking hilarious.”

Steve’s at a loss for words, glancing at you from his hiding spot, surfing through his ever growing pile. You stifle that laugh that comes out at the sight of his horrified face. You didn’t understand why Steve looked so scandalized when you knew he snuck out the adult film rentals on a regular basis. He just wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.

“You’re twenty, Eddie.” You remind him, “Not seventeen.”

He shrugs, tossing it back on the shelf. “Got any new releases?”

You think for a moment, “No, not for the past few weeks. I guess you’ll just have to suffer through a few more rewatches of those ridiculous little stoner movies you like.”

“Hey, not ridiculous.” His ringed finger is pointing in your direction, he’s slowly making his way back toward the cash register, glancing aimlessly down the aisle, eyes not really landing on anything in particular—except for you. “They’re a cinematic masterpiece.”

Entirely too unconvinced, you hold your hand out, waiting for him to slide over his ID. “You just gotta give ‘em a try, I swear.” He adds, setting the card in your hand gently.

He’s got the biggest grin on his face, which wasn’t out of the norm for him, but his eyes lingered on your for a little too long and that last thing you wanted to think was that it was meant entirely for you. Because no, absolutely not. You could not handle another boy wrecking your life, right now.

“No, Robocock?” You tease, the word sounds even more lewd than you had intended.

While you had never partaken in the content yourself, you were aware. You just couldn’t handle the cheesy lines and horrible faked situations that ended with someone getting pounded over an object that looked way too uncomfortable to be spread out over—they were a hard, hard no.

You clear your throat awkwardly, realizing how caught off guard Eddie looked—like you had insulted his all time favorite metal band and shit on his choice of music all in one go—you could never shit on Eddie’s music choice, not when you indulged in the same songs on a daily basis. But really, he was at a loss of words.

“Maybe next time.” He says slowly, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened.

“Sweet.” You drag out, attempting to input the rental information into the decrepit contraption in front of you, waiting for what felt like hours for it to finally rise from the dead. “And you’re good, here—“

“Are you busy this weekend?” Eddie asks suddenly, jarring you out of reality for a moment. His voice quieter, like he was hoping Steve wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Yeah, actually.” You tell him. It wasn’t an excuse, you were working a double shift to cover Steve’s ass because you were an amazing friend who cared about their well-being and ability to potentially help your friend get laid. “I have to work all weekend.”

“Oh—sounds like torture.” He jokes, tapping the VHS idly against the counter. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and you hate how disappointed that makes you feel. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again this weekend then, princess.”

“Can’t wait.” You reply teasingly, causing Eddie to chuckle quietly in response. “God knows I’ll be boring myself to death all weekend.”

“I’ll be your knight in shining armor, no worries.” He adds, adjusting the front of his jacket, displaying the infamous Hellfire Club tee he dawned underneath.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You wiggle a finger at him, watching intently as he made a show of swinging a fake sword, walking backwards toward the door, not realizing that he was about to run smack into another customer.

“Hey, fuckin’ watch it, kid.” A much older man shouts, shoving past Eddie. You can’t help but laugh.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Your shift at Family Video on Saturday is entirely too uneventful, aside from the two underage kids who tried to sneak in and steal some of the content from the adult section, which then promptly ended in them being embarrassed by half of the store during one of the busier hours of the day. You shooed them away quickly and suffered through the rest of that god forsaken shift—boy, was that a story for Steve.

Thankfully, Sunday comes quickly and you’re shuffling out of your house at the speed of light, trying to make it before opening time to set up the store in peace.

“Don’t forget, sweetheart—I need you to cover the store for a few hours while I’m gone tonight.” Your dad spoke, stopping you at the front door. You nod your head fervently, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about.

“Gotcha, I’ll make sure to lock up everything, don’t worry.”

He was definitely going to remind you about ten more times.

He owned a small record store on the corner of downtown, right across from the frequently visited supermarket that almost the entire town went to. It was great for business, amazing in fact, always bringing back the old customers, but happily welcoming in the new ones. It was his prized possession and probably the only reason you leaned so heavily into loving music.

You spend an hour setting up shop at Family Video—wiping down counters, checking on any new stock, and finally settling down into a spot to sort through rentals that either needed to be thrown out or re-shelved. It was monotonous, but enough to keep you busy—busy enough that the store had already been open for at least a half hour, you not even bothering to flip on the neon sign that hung from the front window of the store.

“This might help.” The familiar voice says,, nearly scaring the life out of you. You grasp your chest in horror, falling ass first onto the floor. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“Jesus, Eddie—the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, standing at full height, the top of your head barely reaching his nose. “You cannot sneak up on people like that.”

“I figured you heard me come in—plus, the doors were unlocked.” Fair point. Still, you were annoyed. “Really, you okay?”

“Yeah.” You huff, smoothing the dust off of your pants and adjusting the horrible, itchy work vest you wore. “Just, please—never do that again.”

“Cross my heart.” Eddie replies endearingly, hand pressed against his chest. He leans forward, noticing the small button on your vest that read ‘Ask me about Science Fiction!’, he flicks it amusingly.

“So, any good suggestions for me today?” He asks, “maybe something science fiction-y?” Eddie’s fishing for something, you’re just not sure what. You steal the previous rental from his hands, placing it on the counter.

“I would suggest Star Wars, but I think that’s an obvious one—you’ve probably already seen it.” You travel down the row, Eddie not very far behind.

“I haven’t.”

Your mouth practically drops to the floor in shock—of course Eddie hadn’t seen it, this man knew of three things—weed, heavy rock music, and more weed.

“What? Is that bad?” His eyebrow is quirked up inquisitively, bracing both hands against the top of surrounding rows.

“It’s a fucking crime, Eddie.” You slap the rental into his chest, grabbing his hand to force it into his hold and out of yours.

He’s laughing, turning on his heels to follow you obediently. Truly, he just hadn’t found the time to actually sit down and enjoy it, it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“So, Star Wars—check.” He lists off, “Anything else?”

“You should probably start off slow.” You suggest coyly, patting his arm. “No need to over indulge, then you won’t be able to put them down.”

That was his problem exactly. He’d overindulged into you and now—he just couldn’t quit, he had to know everything. Likes, dislikes, why you always came to school with such a sour puss look on your face, or why you always ate lunch in your car instead of inside the cafeteria—why you always made sure to bump into him in the hallway just to find a reason to speak to him in front of his friends (okay, maybe you definitely went out of your way to talk to him as often as you could.) —not that he cared, but he wasn’t losing his mind when he noticed that his interest wasn’t completely one-sided.

And yeah, maybe Eddie was just what you needed, but boys—boys were off limits. School, work, home. That’s how your life worked and it worked well. Routine was the only thing that kept you on such a straight line. Aside from that freshman hook up with Jason, then Jay from Band class, and that one—very quick—time with Aaron from Physics, there was also the other Erin—in contrast, she’d been an absolute dream to experience, both as a friend and someone who you felt safe enough sharing some of your firsts with. So maybe you weren’t as focused as you should’ve been—but you were trying, that counted, right?

“Princess,” Eddie’s voice brings you back to the surface, his fingers snapping in your face to break you from the trance you had fallen in, “time to come back to the land of the living.”

“Sorry,” You smile sheepishly, “What were you saying?”

He has the nerve to look smug, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. “I didn’t say anything. You just went blank and—“ He waves his hands wildly in your direction, as if that made any sense.

You try to calm your thoughts, your mind, focusing yourself with the task at hand—get Eddie Munson out of here as soon as possible.

“Got that spare copy of Robo—“ You pull the copy of the horrible named porno from under the desk where you had left. That section was a nightmare to sort through. “Oh, well there was supposed to be a joke there—but now I forgot.” He seemed caught off guard by the idea that you already knew exactly what he was gearing to say. “You hidin’ it for yourself or something?”

“God no.” You scoff, typing idly. “I never step foot in that area of the store—that’s all Harrington’s domain.”

Eddie extends his hand out, making a soft grabbing motion toward the object in your hand. You offer it up cautiously, watching as he saunters over to the section and plopped it right back into the spot it belonged.

Well, that was one way to make the job easier. Actually—

“Hey, are you busy right now?” It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s still worth it.

“Depends on why you’re asking.” Eddie says slowly, palms resting against the counter upon his return. He’s eyeing you carefully, you try not to look away.

“I could use the help sorting,” You start, pointing at the pile you hadn’t even made a dent in yet, “and I’ve gotta cover a shift at the record store in a few hours, so I’d really like to get this shit done, preferably today.”

“Record store? The one over by Bradley’s Big Buy?” Eddie perked up out of nowhere. “I go there all the time.”

“Yeah.” You reply is slow, methodical. “My dad owns it.”

“No fuckin’ way.” If Eddie was trying to hide the fact that you may have just become his favorite person ever, he was doing a terrible job. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You know what—you help me get through all of this before my shift ends and I’ll let you sift through the storage in the back of the record shop where we keep the real gems, let you take a few as a reward for your hard work. Deal?” You hold out your hand, waiting for the deal to be set in stone.

“Oh, hell yeah.” Eddie says, shaking your hand firmly.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The keys jingle as you fiddle with the lock on the door. Eddie’s feet doing a soft pitter-patter behind you. He was antsy as hell, more so than you had ever seen him. It was driving you insane—you turn abruptly to look at him.

“Eddie, seriously—I’m going to have to strap you to a chair if you don’t stop.” He didn’t think you were serious, but you were absolutely willing to do whatever was needed.

“Sorry.” He says softly, the shuffling coming to a stop a few moments after. You offer him a warm smile, finally managing to force the lock to turn, opening the back entrance to the shop.

The smell was something you could never forget. It was similar to the smell of old books, mixed with the sweet smell of cinnamon. The small area that encased the back of the store was for employees—a lounge area fit for a few people with a small kitchenette attached. You glance back at Eddie, who hadn’t moved from the spot he was in. You grab for his wrist, gently yanking him inside and shutting the door behind you.

“When I said stop I didn’t mean freeze.” You joke playfully, continuing to hold onto the sleeve of his jacket as you tug him through the rest of the way, turning another corner to reach the storage room. “A few rules—none of the boxes off the top shelf, mostly because I don’t want you hurting yourself and I have no idea how sturdy those things are and two, you don’t speak a word of this to anyone—not a single soul, Eddie Munson.”

“Heard, boss.” He nods eagerly.

“Voila.” Throwing your hand out to the side fancifully, allowing him a grand entrance into the only sacred part of this building.

If anyone found out about this, you were surely dead.

“There’s a few first editions in here, some misprints, a lot of represses and remasters—it’s a lot so just…have at it.” Eddie’s holding his hands close to his body, afraid that if he touches anything it was going to disintegrate into a pile of dust, which was very well possible.

“Personally, I’d go with a copy of Ozzy or Iron Maiden, these are almost impossible to get your hands on.” You pull out the two covers simultaneously, parading them out for show. His smile is genuine, but it doesn’t seem to be what he’s looking for.

He scans around for a minute before finally stopping on a box a few feet away. “Aha!” Eddie exclaims, holding the piece up in front of him. “Found you.”

Metallica. You should’ve known. It was a damn good album, even you could attest to that. “Good choice.” You nudge him gently, sifting through the box in front of him. If he wants to say something, he doesn’t. Eddie bites his tongue, for once. It was way too much to unpack in one evening—the idea of some popular priss of the school like you even recognizing how absolutely metal this album was.

“Actually, I think I’ll stick with this.” Eddie tells you, following your lead as you exited the storage room. He didn’t want to be greedy or take advantage of the situation and you were fine with that, it was nice, actually. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever managed to have a conversation with a boy that didn’t end with him asking to shove a hand up your shirt, or worse.

Though, Eddie’s own bubble of bliss popped at the sound of a voice carrying through to the back of the store, eyes widening in fear. You panic, shoving him into a dark corner, down one of the rows, yanking him down to squat out of sight.

“I thought you said we didn’t have to worry about your dad showing up?!” Eddie says in a hushed whisper, eyes showing how desperate he was to escape this situation.

You silence him with the palm of your hand, pulling him lower, almost on top of you, to avoid being seen. You turn to peek from under the legs that held up the bins of records, watching as your father wandered around until he found what he was looking for—his wallet, of all fucking things. Eddie says something into your hand, but it’s muffled. You swat him gently, but it’s enough to warrant a warning—and the look you give him... he obeys almost immediately.

The moment you two are finally alone again, you both collapse with a loud sigh on the floor—hearts pounding out of your chest.

“Am I dead?” Eddie asks, staring up at the ceiling. You lean over him, popping into his line of sight.

“If you’re dead, I guess I’ll have to take back that copy of—“ You slowly reach for the record he still had a death grip on.

“No, no. Anything but that.” He begs, holding it closer to his chest. You chuckle softly, pushing yourself up. Eddie follows suit slowly, still reeling from the aftermath of what had just happened.

“Wanna listen for a bit?” You suggest, trying to ease some of his nerves. “I’ve got a few minutes until I have to open shop and that record player up front is top of the fuckin’ line. It sounds amazing.”

“You wanna listen? To Metallica?” He asks, confirming what he had suspected earlier, but it still didn’t help hide the bewilderment he was experiencing.

“The fact that I know you’re judging me so hard is kind of an asshole move, Munson.” You tease, grabbing the vinyl from his hand and setting it onto the record player.

It crackles to life, almost like magic, the song begins to play dimly in the background. You didn’t want to risk blowing the speakers out this early, so a manageable volume seemed appropriate.

“I’m not judging, I swear. I just—I had no idea, you know.” He’s leaning against the wall, hands crossed loosely over his chest. “Metal heads are a rare breed, they think we’re all fuckin’ nuts.”

“Aren’t we?” You joke, perched against the top of one of the leather chairs arranged near the entrance.

“There’s no way you’re real.” Eddie shakes his head with disbelief, running a twitchy hand through the back of his hair. It makes your heart twinge, the way he sounds so exasperated over the whole thing.

“I’m very real.” You remind him, poking gently at his arm. Eddie makes a small sound, a huff of laughter, though pained in the way it never actually leaves his mouth. “You okay, Eddie?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine.”

Eddie was either impossible to read, or showing his emotions on his sleeve, there was no in-between. But right now, you were struggling to decipher why he seemed so off—switching from foot to foot nervously, fingers pulling at the loose thread on his jacket absently, chewing softly at his bottom lip like he’s trying desperately to stop himself from talking.

Screw always staying on the straight and narrow, you were taking the damn leap. You reach out for the hand that was tugging at a flimsy piece thread, fingers wrapping loosely around his own. His gaze is soft, looking up at you ever so slightly. “Eddie, you can talk to me.”

“Huh.” It’s a quiet sound, but you watch that way his chest bounces at the action. He’s eerily silent, like he can’t find the words to talk—but you could do enough of that for the both of you.

“Okay, don’t talk to me.” It comes out wrong, condescending. You scramble for a moment, “Not—I mean, I want you to feel like you can talk to me, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.” It’s a gentle reminder that no matter what, you respected his boundaries.

I’m kind of obsessed with you—is what he wants to say. But he can’t. He can’t even form the words. Any words. He takes a long, deep breath to calm himself.

“Please don’t hate me for this.”

“Why would I—“ Oh.

It felt…too good, too right, too entirely fuckin’ real. You can’t even find it in you to pull back, inhaling shakily against Eddie’s mouth, parting just enough to give you the space you needed to let your brain catch up with the rest of your body.

“Still don’t hate you.” You whisper into the air between you both, lips still close enough that they graze against his with every movement.

“Good.” He sighs, reaching forward to press one last sweet, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a lot less scandalous than you anticipated—not that you ever imagined kissing Eddie Munson...but still, definitely better than any expectation you might’ve had.

“Eddie, I really have to work.” You say with nothing but regret, feeling like cutting this short was a lousy attempt at escaping the situation, which was so far from what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t even process what was happening, not fully, at least. “We can talk later, if you want.”

“Uh, sure.” Eddie still sounds defeated, backing away slowly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, really. There was no way you would immediately fall head over heels, prepared with some sort of epic love confession. Still, he was disappointed with himself for not being able to express things differently.

You sigh, trying to find some way to reassure the poor boy standing before you. “We can shelf this,” You thought it was kinda cheesy, he did too. His smile is enough to make you feel a little bit better about cutting him off so quickly, “and you can call this number when you feel like talking to me.”

Reaching for the pen sitting on the clipboard on the table beside you, you scribble down a fury of numbers on a line of paper and shove it into his palm. You couldn’t do mixed signals, friends or not—if Eddie had something he wanted to say, you needed to hear it, he needed to hear himself say it. You needed it to be real.

“I’ll wait.”

As long as it would take.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A day passes, then two, three—nearly a week and Eddie still hasn’t bothered to call you, no matter how much time you spent sitting by the landline all evening, going so far as to study and eat dinner within arms reach of the phone, wondering why he still hadn’t called.

Maybe he had changed his mind, and that was fine, but it was still a kick in the ass—a reminder that you couldn’t let silly little crushes distract you like this. Eddie even avoided you in the hallway more often, taking a left toward his mandatory PE class, rather than taking the long way around to have a conversation with you. You felt ashamed, embarrassed that you had even allowed him to kiss you, it made you feel vulnerable.

After a week of silence and too many eerily quiet shifts at Family Video, enough is enough. And as luck would have it, you find him on a Friday night, digging through a discount bin at your dad’s record store—which, you should have known. But what was more astonishing, was how long he had managed to avoid you, here, of all places.

“We’re closing in ten, folks!” Your dad’s voice bellows through the place, warning the very few stragglers left that if they weren’t out within that time, it would be an issue. “Hiya, sweetheart.”

Eddie whips around at the speed of light, eyes landing on you immediately. You can’t help but look smug, arms crossed tightly over your chest. He tries to compose himself, turning back to the bin and continuing to browse through.

What an asshole, you think.

“Hey.” It’s simple, short, an easy way to start a conversation.

“Hi.” His voice doesn’t waver, but he sure as hell doesn’t look at you.

“If you’re not going to say anything, I will.” He’d done enough tiptoeing the past week, you just wanted an explanation.

He sighs, looking up at you slowly. “I know. I’m a dick for ignoring you.” He wasn’t wrong, you definitely felt it was a dick move that way he handled things. But, you hated holding grudges, especially against someone like Eddie, who you never hated to begin with.

“I get it, if you didn’t want to talk about what happened—it’s fine, but I still like talking to you, Eddie. You wouldn’t even look at me during lunch or any time I passed you in the halls—and don’t forget how late you are on returning that copy of ‘A New Hope’.” You point a feebly accusing finger in his direction, poking gently at his chest.

“I did.” He admits, “I gave it to Harrington and he handled it for me.”

Brows furrowed, your gaze ices over. “You went through me—to Steve?!” Now that, that stung. “You couldn’t even return a rental because I scared you off that much?”

“You didn’t scare me!”

You both freeze, not entirely sure where the outburst stunned from, luckily enough the store had emptied already. Still, that left a very clueless father of yours to watch the whole conversation unravel.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” He says, but it’s mostly directed at you. He slips the store keys into your hand. “Lock up and don’t stay out too late.”

You’ve never been more thankful for having such relaxed parents.

“You didn’t scare me.” Eddie repeats himself, more relaxed but still tense around the edges.

“Then why are you avoiding me?” You push. “Was kidding me really that horrible?”

“No—god, no. I have—I don’t really,” He takes a breath, hand steady out in front of himself between the space you two held, “I’ve never talk to people that I like—everyone thinks I’m this freak that worships that devil when all I really do is—“

“Play D&D with underclassmen and listen to metal rock at ungodly volumes from the inside of your van?” You ask, seemingly shutting him up. “Eddie, I know—the only people that believe that shit are the ones that can’t even look at themselves in the mirror and face who they are.”

You pull him toward the seating nook near the front of the store, forcing him down on the old leather couch shoved against the wall, allowing him the time he needs before he speaks again. You didn’t glance over his admission at liking you, but it was so painfully obvious that bringing it up again might do more harm than good, teasing him was the last thing you wanted to do. It was better to let him find the words he needed to express how he felt, that’s what you’d been waiting for—nearly a week now.

“I kissed you and it screwed everything up. I was so caught up in this idea of what I thought you were that when I realized who you actually were—I didn’t know how to respond, so I kissed you.”

“I do have interests, Eddie. I’m not some robot. They may not be what you expected, but the person I am at school, that’s not me. It’s what I want people to see—outside of school, I don’t have to force that image that I throw on. It’s just me.” You kept the two things on different sides of the universe, not that you weren’t ashamed of the fake act you put on around everyone, but it was the least complicated thing that somehow made sense in your mind.

You continue talking, Eddie forced to do nothing but listen. “I like Kate Bush and Journey—fuckin’ Metallica. My dad taught me how to play D&D when I was twelve for fucks sake. I love nerdy shit and maybe I’m ashamed to tell people that, but I’m sure as hell not afraid to like it.”

Eddie could’ve sworn his brain short-circuited at your admission, not that it was something groundbreaking, but it was something he had failed to notice on his own, how easily he overlooked you and believed in the show you put on for everyone else.

“I always thought you looked at me as some weird freak that annoyed you all the time.” He laughs quietly, fingers rubbing against the side of his rings absently.

“Annoyed me, yes.” You giggle softly, “Looked at you like you were some weird freak? Never. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Well, now I just feel like an asshole.” Eddie admits, smirking ever so slightly. “I should’ve noticed.”

“That was the whole point, Eddie.” You tell him, thumping his forehead gently. He gasps, rubbing the spot dramatically, as if you actually did any damage. “You think I didn’t know what you were doing these past few months? Visiting me at work, purposely saving the seat behind me in class just so you could bother me for answers—you could’ve just talked to me, Eddie. The idea that you think that I think I’m too good for you—it hurts.”

“Everything is fucked up now.” He says, it being the only conclusion he could come to. There was no rectifying what he had ruined, not in his mind.

“It’s not,” you remind him, slowly standing from your seat to pull from the stack of records by the record player, the beginnings of some random pop-ish song you’ve never heard of filling the room, “and since you want to be so self-deprecating, I’m going to make you sit through this god awful song until you realize that not only do I not hate you—I would let you kiss me again, and again, and ag—“

Eddie grips your head firmly, hand cradling the back of your head, fingers all wound up in your hair. He’s got his mouth on you, this time completely unashamed, all him and no impulse. It’s a little sloppy, the way his mouth meets yours. You weren’t ready for it, but to say that your mouth wasn’t a perfect fit against his own, that was a blatant lie. You two fit together well, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He smells like weed and pine and nature, it’s your favorite smell in the world now.

“And again, and again.” Eddie mocks against your lips when you two finally come up for air. He couldn’t tell you where the sudden act of boldness came from, his body working purely on feeling and adrenaline.

“We gotta stop doing this.” You say, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“Kissing? Because I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to—“

“No, turning this record shop into our sacred make out spot.”

Eddie snorts at that, pulling back even more, head thrown back in a small fit of laughter. “I wouldn’t call that making out, would you?”

“You know what I mean.” You shove him lightly, nearly pushing him off you. But, he doesn’t let go.

Silence falls over you both, neither of you finding the words to break it. It didn’t feel wrong, crossing this line. Eddie wasn’t some forbidden fruit you couldn’t have a taste of—though he couldn’t say the same for you, but there were definitely some things that needed to be worked through.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” You tell him sternly and outright, “not yet. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to let you kiss me if you want to.”

“You’re not afraid of what people will say?” It’s the first genuine question that you can immediately answer, not an inkling of doubt behind it.

“I don’t give a shit what people think about who I associate myself with.” You reply honestly, eyes conveying an openness you only reserved for the people closest to you.

“Won’t it tank your reputation?” He laughs, fingers coming up to play with a stray piece of hair framing your face. “Can’t stay popular when you have a freak like me following you around.”

“Doubtful.” The students of Hawkins were so desperate for leadership, they would follow you without question. It was a gross thing to think about, but some people couldn’t be bothered to think for themselves and would rather have other people do it for them. “I think I scare a lot of people.”

Eddie nods, almost like he can relate. “You can be a little terrifying.”

“Good.” You say proudly, finally managing to separate yourself from Eddie, even if you really didn’t want to.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He kisses you that following Monday, square on the mouth, in front of not only his entire group of friends from Hellfire, but the entire senior class, including a few other underclassmen that lingered in the hallway for far too long. It’s puzzling at first, you’re confused, but you manage to fix your face quickly, smiling up at the boy standing in front of you.

“You really like drawing a crowd, Munson.” You tease, voice hushed so only he could hear.

“It’s a talent.” He remarks, gesturing wildly with his face, fingers pointed up to mimic devil horns, tongue stuck out for extra flair.

He was unapologetically himself and it was refreshing. You didn’t realize how hard everyone was staring until he’s left your side, and maybe you should feel ashamed, but the moment you attempt to lock eyes with any of them, they’re averting their eyes at the speed of light. Good—mind your damn business, you think.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He still pesters you at Family Video every other day, but not nearly as much as before. Fortunately for Steve, he was receiving most of the attention now—and even if he would never admit it, he was warming up to Eddie.

“He asked if I could sell him some weed.” Eddie tells you one day, unprovoked and out of the blue. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head in surprise.

“You know what, I don’t even wanna know.” You tell him, hands up in defense. “Just know, Steve has the tolerance of a mouse—beer, weed, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh what, and little miss perfect’s never smoked a joint before?”

“Never.” You assure him. You weren’t one to judge, to each their own, but you never found any interest in actually trying it.

“And somehow you’ve got a crush on the one dude who smokes weed on a daily basis.” Eddie teases, finger jabbing your cheek softly. You can’t help but smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first time Eddie invites you to his trailer is rather uneventful. You meet his uncle, briefly. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but he’s still pleasantly surprised to see his nephew talking to someone, no matter who they were.

You two end up eating silently, talking about random and obscure things that only made sense between the four walls you both existed in.

“Favorite D&D class—go.” Eddie shoots a finger gun your way, grape shoved halfway into your mouth.

“Easy, rogue.” Stealth & trickery, that one was built for you. “Your turn.”

“Bard.” He says after a careful moment of thinking. “I don’t think that really needs much explaining.” Eddie says, flashing the beautiful guitar that hung on his wall, his most prized possession. “Plus, I’m super fuckin’ charming.”

“That you are.” You whisper softly, leaning forward to pull him in for a kiss. It’s cut entirely too short by Eddie pulling away, shoving another bit of food into his own mouth.

“Eat first, kiss later.” He orders.

And it’s not against your own human nature when you only receive so much as a few kisses before you’re leaving that night, wondering if maybe you were pushing too hard.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

So, you dial things back. It was fine if Eddie was making an attempt at slowing things down on purpose—the problem was, you weren’t used to it. You blame that partially on the fact that you’ve never gotten involved in anything more than a quick hookup. It was a foreign concept.

But Eddie does seem to take notice that you’re trying to create more distance at his expense and that just won’t do. So he’ll slide his hand up the back of your shirt, over the curve of your ass, a gentle tug on your hair when he’s kissing the life out of you from the driver’s side of his van, parked in the makeshift driveway outside his trailer home.

But, it constantly leaves you wanting more. You want him to touch you everywhere, constantly thinking about how his hands would feel around your thighs, running up the plane of your breasts, around your neck—and maybe you can blame it on the late surge of teenage hormones running through your body at eighteen.

And when the words finally left your mouth a few weeks later, laid out underneath Eddie on his unmade bed, you weren’t really sure what to expect.

“Are you scared to have sex with me?” You ask, voice sounding entirely too small in this big room. “Did I do something wrong?”

He lifts his head from where it’s resting on your chest, “What?”

“Are you waiting until marriage? Because if you are—that’s fine, but I really didn’t see that coming from you—not that I’m judging, it’s a valid choice.” You spit out in one breath, trying to compensate for how shitty you felt after asking him that.

“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out at once.

“O-oh. Okay.” You say slowly, caught off-guard by the admission. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that—“

“I’ve made out with people before and done a few other things but,” He tells you, “I’ve just never..”

“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, sitting up in his bed to look at him clearly, “I feel like a total asshole now.”

“Believe me, I want to have sex with you.” He looks so damn earnest, his palm resting against your knee, thumb rubbing against the skin gently. “I just don’t want to disappoint—gotta live up to the reputation, you know?”

“You’ve never even come close?” You ask curiously. It seemed like a harmless enough question to ask.

“Yeah—a few times. I always cut things short, though. I’ve had people offer me sex and blowies in exchange for weed, but that just feels wrong on so many levels.”

You nod slowly, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not gonna push you or anything. It doesn’t have to be some big, monumental thing we have to tiptoe around. We can just…figure it out as we go.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The next couple months are easy, creeping up toward Christmas, impatiently awaiting a much needed break from school, work—even life. You wanted to lock yourself in your room and sleep for a week straight. Between your constant work shifts, covering Steve for dates because you’re way too nice of a friend, and still making sure to spend time with Eddie, you were worn out. Not that Eddie was a chore, but it felt like you couldn’t give him your full, undivided attention when your mind was constantly thinking of your schedule for the next day.

When you finally do manage to reward yourself with a few glorious days off, you spend them locked up in your room, just as you intended.

Tap. Tap. It was nearly eleven at night, who in the hell could possible be—

Eddie’s head pops into view, clearly struggling to keep himself upright. You scramble to the window, opening it up to pull him inside.

“Are you insane?” You ask, helping him step over the threshold without face planting on to the carpet. “My parents are asleep downstairs—if they find you up here this late, I’m dead. Dead, Eddie.”

“I’ll be quiet.” He smiles, fingers crossed over his heart in a way that told you he meant it.

“What did you want?” You ask, not really trying to sound like an asshole, but your exhaustion is making it seem that way.

“Wanted to see you.” He shrugs, plopping himself down on your bed. He’s holding his hands out too, hoping you would follow suit.

He nearly manhandles you over his lap, letting you rest against his thighs. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask, hands resting against his lower abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. “Is this a late night booty call?”

“A what—“ He looks genuinely confused, “nevermind.”

“Oh, so you just missed me?” You tease, hands crawling up the expanse of his chest, you reach forward to kiss teasingly against the bit of his chest that was exposed from his top, right above his tattoo. “That’s cute.”

“I had an idea.” Oh no, you think. It was either going to be something completely outlandish or—who the fuck were you kidding? This was Eddie. “Since you’ve been so stressed lately.”

“Yeah?” You reply eagerly, ready for any type of distraction to help take your mind off of everything.

“Let me go down on you.” And if there was a list of things that you never expected to hear Eddie Munson say, that was nearing the top.

“Eddie Munson.” You respond, sounding scandalized.

“Don’t tell me you’re turning down an orgasm.” He responds cockily, almost full of himself.

“I thought you said you-“

“I’m not that clueless, princess.” Well then. “Now, lay down.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Definitely not clueless. Not in the slightest of ways.

Eddie’s mouth his way down the inside of your thigh, biting and licking at your skin in a way that has you squirming desperately.

“No fingers.” He tells you.

You nod. At a loss of words for the first time in your life.

“Just my mouth.” He says around a particularly sensitive spot, sucking lightly. “That’s all I need.”

He sounds entirely too sure of himself.

“We can make a deal, if you’re that confident.” You challenge, head craning down to look at him from in between your legs. He gives you a look that signals for you to keep talking, not bothering to stop the desperate attack on your skin that was surely going to leave marks the next morning.

“You make me come—I’ll blow you.” You say breathlessly, squirming again as the heat from his breath hits your bare cunt. “Deal?”

“Fuck yeah.”

He starts gentle, easy, separating your folds with his tongue and teasing at your clit. You sigh, admiring the sight of Eddie’s head tucked between your legs, face buried into the apex of your thighs. It seemed like a bold statement at first, the idea of Eddie making you come with nothing but his mouth—but you realize your own feeble mistake. Eddie turned you on enough that he didn’t need to use fingers, you could come with just his mouth—hell, just the sight of him between your legs had your thighs clenching around his head, caging him in place.

The hand that isn’t resting against your stomach pulls against the inside of your thigh, forcing your legs open wider, and wider. He’s practically drinking you in now, switching between licking and sucking at your sensitive clit in intervals that had your body arching in pleasure and agony—agony at the fact that this couldn’t continue on forever.

“You’re such a liar.” You force out through clenched teeth, his chuckle is apparent as it vibrates against your cunt, sending you reeling.

“Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I can’t compensate in other areas.” And then he’s back to work.

“Oh, oh fuck.” You’re desperately trying to keep your voice down, the only solution being for you to cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the moans that Eddie was pulling out of you. “This is cruel.”

“You’re really wet.” He observes, pulling back to allow you both a breather, “It’s all over your sheets.”

“Shit happens—I’ll wash them later—just keep going, please.” You rush out, using your hands to physically direct him back to your cunt, his nose brushing up against your clit as his tongue dipped inside of you.

You were passed caring at this point, desperate for the orgasm that was building in your lower abdomen. You’ve got the sheets in a knuckle white grip, gasping at every lick and nudge he made against your sensitive and swollen clit, face burning with the heat of how close you were, flushed a deep red.

“Gonna come, Eddie.” You warn, which only encourages him further. And god, the mouth on him. He’s licking desperately at your cunt, your juices and his spit mixing together to create a glorious slippery mess that created the perfect amount of friction.

And he feels it coming, the way your fingers grip the hair at the base of his head, he reaches up to cover your mouth, you clasp your own hand over his—and finally, you let go.

“Christ.” You say on an exhale, dizzy from what had to be the single most hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. “Get the fuck up here, Eddie.”

“And just like that,” He snaps, “stress free.” His face is wet still, covered in you, and you can’t help but laugh. “What, something on my face?” You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt to wipe away the mess from his mouth.

“All good.” You assure him, patting his chest gently. It takes a while for you to finally gain your bearings, but eventually you do. “And like I said—a deal is a deal.” You turn to look at him, enjoying the way he’s spread out on your bed, smug and jovial. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

He nods, “With a gorgeous someone like you asking to suck my dick? Absolutely.”

Eddie sure had a way with words.

“Here, turn this way.” You tell him, tapping his thigh softly so he’d move.

“Why can’t I—“ You drop to your knees on the soft carpet of your floor, fitting perfectly between his legs. “Oh.”

You unbuckle his belt, fumbling a little with the loops, so you forgo trying to take the whole thing off and just focus on being able to unbutton his pants. He pushes them down, letting them pool around his ankles.

Eddie doesn't really know where to put his hands, first his thighs, then the sheets and back again. “Do I just—“

You place his hands on either side of him, wrapped around the edge of the mattress and—Jesus, was that more a turn on than having his head between your thighs, his rings shining prominently against the pale skin of his fingers.

“Just keep them there and flow with whatever works, Eddie. You tell me what feels good.” He nods softly.

He’s hard already, reeling off the high of going down on you, so instead of trying to tease him any longer—which you weren’t sure he could handle, you peel his underwear down, enough to where it drops on its own and you can finally admire his dick in full view, completely bare.

You didn’t realize you had your bottom lip pulled underneath your top row of teeth until Eddie was rubbing gently at your chin, staring down at you with gentle, loving eyes. It’s so sickeningly sweet that you want to burst into tears.

“No fingers?” You tease. “Just my mouth?”

“I think we can make an exception in this case.”

You waste no time in wrapping your hand around his shaft, Eddie swallowing audibly from above you. Still in one piece, that was good. You move slowly, a few long, languid strokes of his dick until you’re peering up at him asking, “Is this good?”

Contrary to whatever Eddie might be thinking, you’ve never actually had anyone’s anything in your mouth. Handjobs were easy, quick—but you’d never gone so far as to give a blowjob to any guy you’ve ever hooked up with. This was all new territory for you.

“Here.” Eddie has a firm grip around your hand, pushing you to squeeze a little tight, tug faster, enough to build a steady pace of both pressure and friction. “Shit—like that. That’s good.”

He sighs shakily, leaning more into the weight of his arm, praying to whatever god out there that it was enough to keep him upright.

You lean forward to lick at the tip carefully, he’s quiet and methodical, like he’s trying to focus on something. His eyes are shut right, hands now balled into fists.

Another lick this time, from the base of his dick to the tip before you’re swallowing him down, using your hands to follow what your mouth couldn’t. Unfortunately for you, gag reflexes were definitely still a thing and you weren’t going to force what wouldn’t fit—and there was a lot of Eddie that wasn’t going to fit. He was, without a doubt, bigger than any other person you’d been with—not so comical that it didn’t seem real, but it was more than enough.

“Fuck, this is gonna over way to quick.” He groans, “Slow-slow down.”

“Hands in my hair.” You tell him, guiding a hand toward the back of your head, he obeys easily, fingers twisted into the hair at the base of your neck. “Control the pace, I’ll follow.”

“You’re not real.” He breathes out in disbelief, rewarding him by swirling your tongue around the tip of his dick before your lips wrap around it, sucking lightly.

He moans louder than you initially expected, both of you pulling back in shock, your hand immediately darting toward his mouth.

“Don’t think I won’t shove something in your mouth if you want to keep that up.” You warned halfheartedly, but you were definitely more serious than playful.

“I can’t make any promises, sweetheart.” Well, you appreciated the honesty.

You suck him down again, as fully as possible, keeping a steady rhythm around his dick. He’s holding himself together better, but he’s still pretty noisy regardless. You reach aimlessly for something, anything, to shove in his mouth.

“Back pocket of my jeans,” He says, practically whining, “the—fuck, just grab it, you know what I’m talking about.”

You quickly yank at the black handkerchief in the pocket of his jeans, shoving it quickly into his mouth on the uptick of another groan, muffled perfectly by the fabric.

He bucks his hips on a particular downward motion of your mouth, the back of his dick hitting your throat and nearly causing you to gag, but you recover, bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm. Eddie can’t even focus on his own thoughts at this point, he sounds insufferable. He’s gone from upright to sprawled across your sheets, gasping underneath the confines of the cloth.

“Gonna come,” Eddie forces out, quickly unstuffing his mouth, patting your shoulder gently as a warning, “you gotta pull off.”

You do and just in time for Eddie to spill over his stomach, his shirt having thankfully ridden up enough in his constant squirming that it narrowly managed to miss it. He’s clearly forcing himself to keep quiet, feeling himself coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever received by another person. You try not to sit too long on the fact that no one has ever seen him the way you have, so blown out from an orgasm that you caused.

Eddie slowly pulls his underwear and jeans back over his hips, leaving them unbuttoned as he falls back on your bed, dragging you down with him.

“You really are the gift that keeps on giving.” He jokes, rubbing your back gently, hands finding their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, barely finger tipping past the point of your ass, playing absently with the hem of your underwear.

“And this gift needs some sleep.” You tell him.

And so what if you both ended up cuddled underneath the covers in your bedroom that night, neither of you bothering to ruin this tiny bit of bliss you had created. Eddie still managed to sneak out that morning without any evidence that he had ever been there.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Eddie can’t stop touching you since the night you two shared over the weekend, always finding any reason to have a hand on you—against your back, resting against the soft dip in your waist, or just dealing his arm around your shoulder in an effort to pull you closer.

“You sure you wanna try?” He asks, holding the joint in front of your face, waiting for you to grab it. “You really don’t have to.”

You wanted to, even if it was only this once. You had to live through the hype that everyone was talking about, even if you decided to never touch it after this moment, ever again.

“For the tenth time—yes.” You laugh, snatching the joint from his fingers and pulling it toward your lips. You remember what Eddie told you. Breathe in, not too deep, hold, then out through your nose.

But, you fuck up on the second step, taking in a little too much, lungs burning from the smoke you inhaled. You lean over, feeling like you’re going to cough yourself into a miserable death on the floor of Eddie’s trailer.

“We’ll work on it.” Eddie assures you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

It was the first and last time you ever touched a joint.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Christmas comes and goes, a flurry of family visits and gift giving to all of your friends, leading up to dinner at Eddie’s trailer the evening of the day after, enjoying a small dinner with himself and his uncle. There’s some small talk, but most of the dinner is spent with you watching the two of them debate over some band you aren’t even sure you’ve ever heard of.

“Thank you.” Eddie tells you when he’s finally parked in front of your house, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb, fingers curling around your palm. You squeeze his hand in return.

“It was nice.” You admit. “My family is really loud, so it was a lot more enjoyable than you’d think.”

He chuckles softly, not wanting to let go of your hand, and not really wanting to say goodbye, either. You check the driveway, reminding yourself that your parents had left for another party a few towns over, a family friend.

“Hey, why don’t you stay for a bit?” You suggest, nodding in the direction of your house. “My parents won’t be home until midnight, I’m guessing–so maybe I can finally give you a grand tour without my parents asking you a million questions.” And ask they would, which is exactly why he hadn’t officially met them yet. Plus, he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend in any sense of the word–so it didn’t feel right either way.

Eddie doesn’t even so much as hesitate, hopping out of his car to follow you to the front door. The house is a decent size–a few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, kitchen, all the normal things you would expect from a house in the suburbs.

You both collapse on your bed the moment you enter your room, both exhausted and full from the ridiculous amount of food you consumed over dinner.

Eddie finds out that you talk in your sleep that night–which should be considered singing, but your voice is so off-key that not even he can sugarcoat it. He doesn’t say anything, though. He listens to you jam out into the quiet ambiance of your room, ceiling fan buzzing from above.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Let’s have sex.” Eddie interjects bluntly, causing you to choke on the giant swig of water you had just attempted to swallow. It was New Years Eve and you both had planned to spend it together, even if you didn’t really have anything fun to do—spending time with Eddie was always eventful—case in point.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, “Okay.” You never bothered to push Eddie on the topic, letting him come to that decision when he felt like it. Plus, his courage has probably been boosted from all the orgasms he’s given you, not that you were complaining—Eddie gave amazing head.

It doesn’t take much more coaxing to get you into his bed, naked from the waist up, Eddie’s mouth focused on nothing but the soft, plush valley of your breasts. He squeezed the one that wasn’t occupied by his mouth gently, tongue swirling around the bud of your nipple.It felt good, amazing, but you were way too horny to focus on the feeling of Eddie's mouth against your tits for this long.

“This is probably a terrible time to bring this up—“ He begins, but you silence him, tearing his mouth away from your tender breast and up to your mouth.

“Whatever it is, it can wait.” You laugh softly. Eddie’s looking up at you, his hair a wild mess. He looks innocent and naive, with no idea what he was getting himself into. “Do you have condoms?”

Bareback was a hard no—no matter who it was. Although, the idea of tiny little Eddie’s running around was adorable, just not enough to sacrifice everything you learned in Sex Ed. He nods eagerly, reaching over you to grab a thin box from the top of his bedside table. He shakes it, box still unopened.

“How long have you had those?” You ask, almost certain you’d never seen any in his place before.

“A few weeks.” He shrugs, pulling one of the small tin foil squares out of the box and tossing it on the floor. “Wasn’t sure when I should bring it up, you know?”

Like you wouldn’t jump his bones the second he asked, regardless if it had been two days ago or two weeks. You had waited patiently for Eddie to come to the decision on his own, and that’s all you could do. It wasn’t something you two always tiptoed around, you didn’t treat it like he had some ailment that kept him from pleasing you otherwise, it was just one step you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“Have you been planning this, Munson?” You tease, fingers dragging down his chest slowly, stopping just at the edge of his belt, your fingers curling around it.

“You can’t prove anything.” He replies, shoving his face into the crook of your neck to bite teasingly at the skin there. You yelp, squirming in the way it sends shivers down your spine.

“Beautiful, charming, and chivalrous—what did I do to deserve you?” You ask, a smile gracing your face. “Not to mention how downright dirty that mouth is.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.” His voice low and teasing, coming up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and eager enthusiasm.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Part of you was glad that the shyness between you both was long gone, having seen each other in enough intimate ways that now—it was normal. It took a lot of the edge off for Eddie, who seemed more and more relaxed as the night drew on. You’d both forgone clothing very early on, relishing in the sight of being able to see Eddie completely bare—tattoo and toned muscle on full display.

He’s pretty insistent about going down on you despite how you insisted he didn’t have to, but it was Eddie—always wanting to give more than he took.

“Just like that.” You sigh softly, hips hovering over his mouth, your cunt making a mess all over his face. “Fuck—don’t stop.”

His tongue works quickly, rubbing over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit, his hands coming behind you to pull you further against his face. He’s practically groaning underneath you, hips bucking up into nothing—you’re ready to put him out of his misery, but the crashing feeling of your orgasm creeps up on you out of nowhere, cunt riding it out against his face, which he ravished greedily.

He’s very adamant about not having you return the favor. “There’s no way I’ll last through you doing that and being inside you without blowing my load, at least once. And truthfully, I’d like this to last a little longer than thirty seconds.”

He’s painfully honest and it’s adorable.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He sighs, brows furrowed slightly.

“You want me on top?” You ask softly, hovering over his bare thighs.

“Are you actually asking me that?” He laughs, a little dumbfounded. He’s right, stupid question.

You grab his hand, guiding it toward your sensitive pussy, allowing him to dip a single digit inside of you. He breathes in sharply, his fingers barely moving. He wasn’t even inside you and he already looked like he could fall apart.

Eddie notices the way your eyes fall shut, basking in the feeling of being filled up, even if it wasn’t by him—not really. He’s slow, precise, curling his finger ever so often until you’re rocking against his own hand, then he’s adding another. “More.” You say, he listens one obediently, squeezing another finger into you, working steadily inside of you now. The stretch felt amazing, but it was still lacking what you needed. You reach between you both, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, pulling gently.

He’s quiet, eyes closed. You pull again, rubbing your thumb over the tip, spreading the small amount of precome that had leaked out. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you.” Eddie moans, mouth hung open slightly.

You decide to finally put him out of his misery.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Eddie’s silent as he slips on the condom, his tongue sticking out past his lips from focusing too hard. “Okay, I think we’re good.” He says finally, looking up at you. He squeezes at the side of your waist, pulling you over him.

You guide him inside of you, sinking down into him slowly. It had been far too long since you had been with anyone, the stretch making you wince slightly—it didn’t help that Eddie was a lot larger than what you were typically used to.

Eddie lets out a plethora of soft, random noises—watching intently as your cunt swallows him before finally it can’t take anymore, now pressed fully against one another.

“Move. Just move.” He urges you, hands gripping your waist tightly, you being the only thing anchoring him to reality.

You do, slowly, rocking against him until he’s finally able to focus—“You okay?” You say softly, and the look he gives is something you will never be able to get out of your mind—bottom lip sucked between his teeth, eyes locked on the place where you were both joined together, before glancing up to look at you. He nods jerkily, “Wanna switch?” You ask, giving him the chance to control the pace.

“Please—I already feel like I’m gonna come quickly, but having you on top is just—“ He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

He flips you over easily, manhandling you against his sheets. Your hips rested high up onto his hips, his forearms barricading your head. He’s moving slowly, too slowly, a short thrust of his hips every couple seconds. Eddie wasn’t going to last long and you knew it.

“Hey, it’s fine.” You reassure him, “Stop thinking.”

“Okay,” He nods, moving his hips faster, “I’m not going to last long, I’m sorry.”

“Eddie,” You grab his chin, pulling attention toward your face, “stop apologizing and fuck me.”

And it’s all he needs to hear.

His mouth latches into the dip of your collarbone, sucking lightly, snapping his hips at a pace that had you moaning out in pleasure. “Feels so good, Eddie.” He bites at the skin of your shoulder and it really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should. “Again,” you encourage him, “do that again.”

His teeth trail against the skin of your neck, up under your chin, before suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth digging in gently. “Say my name.” He breathes against your open mouth.

“Eddie.” You sigh, voice squeaking on a particularly hard snap of his hips. He moans outwardly, loud and strangled. Eddie could feel himself falling apart.

“Fuck—I can’t. I’m gonna come.” He groans out, grunting at the feeling of you squeezing down against his dick.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, letting him bury his into your neck, his sounds muffled into the sheets.

Eddie’s loud when he comes, hands gripping your thighs so hard that you were definitely going to leave bruises, but you didn’t mind. “Fuck!” He shouts, riding himself through his orgasm before he’s collapsing on top of you. “Holy shit.”

“Well, that’s one way to ring in the New Year.” You comment, hand reaching to wipe that hair out of his face where it had been stuck with sweat. He huffs into your cheek, nose squished against your face. Eddie kisses your cheek, your nose, before capturing your mouth. He pulls out slowly, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash bin beside his bed before returning back to his original position on top of you,

“Inside of my girlfriend?” He asks, pulling back to look at you. The word slips out accidentally.

“Girlfriend?” You ask, eyebrow raised in question.

“Well, that’s what I was trying to ask you early—but someone was just too horny they couldn’t wait for me to ask. I guess I probably shouldn’t assume you would say yes but—“

“Ask me again.” You tell him, finger coming up to trace his bottom lip. He smiles widely, biting the finger in retaliation.

“Fine.” He kisses the side of your hand. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Hmm.” You start, “Well-“

“Oh, no way—“ You immediately clasp your hand over his mouth.

“Yes.” You tell him, eyes boring into his own. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #my writing #idk how to make short fics i'm sorry #1kfic #5kfic

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killmeprettypleasee · 5 months

Note

Price x Ftm!lieutenant!Reader general dating hcs pls and tyy

Dating headcanons W/ John Price.

Warning: SFW AND NSFW mentioned, clingy price, mentions of killing someone, slightly possessive Price, switch Price and switch reader.

SFW

Before you and Price started dating, the two of you are already close friends, you two joined the military together and trained together back then before you guys are in your current ranks.

He is very sweet to you and supports you being a trans person.

He found out you were trans waaaayyyy back then, and the way he reacts was kinda random..

"Wait.. so your one of those transformers robots????" He looked at you dumbfounded as he scanned the surgery scars on your chest.

He was very confused.. but still supports you!

When someone was being toxic to you he WILL and not hesitate to unalive them.

He loves you too much see😭

He'll give them the coldest death stared making their bones quiver in fear.

He will cuddle you, and be hella clingy.

Imagine.

You both at the halls of the base and he's just hugging you, not caring if anyone is watching.

He would call you to his office to just hold you and have you sit on his lap.

Hell, every once i a while he'll make you skip training just to have you there with him..

He will never let you out of his sight.

NEVER.

You're his sunshine afterall, his Marshmellow to the hot cocoa, his sauce to the spaghetti, his peach to the eggplant (okay thats just weird..)

When you're both at home, he wouldn't let you go out to buy groceries and insisted that he should be the one buying.

He's just scared because he overthinks that someone will kidnap you.

He doesn't even care if you know self-defense 💀

When both of you go out on a date he'll take you out to the beautiful restaurants ever, but he rather keep it simply

He'll even buy you beautiful clothes to match your date.

One time both of you went to a Chinese sea food restaurant that serves raw and fresh sea food.

He bought himself those tentacles cus he wanna try them out.

End up sticking to his face.

Both of you gotta go to the doctor cus the tentacles suction wont let go.

He was traumatized and both of you never went to those fresh sea food restaurant.

NSFW

After ever date there should a spicy intimate time with him.

He would bend you over when you both in your car or at your house.

Just somewhere private where both of you could fuck.

He loves dominating you, but sometimes he also likes it when you're the one dominating him

He likes it when you overstimulate him till he's a whining mess when you're taking the lead.

You just loos so sexy ontop him while riding his cock while calling him a good boy.

It makes his cock twitch when you do that.

And the way you moan just sends him over the edge.

But when he's the one in control he would bend you over doggy style and hit your prostate head on with his tip.

He absolutely loves when you moan out his name.

Its just so cute.

He likes raw sex.

He wanna make sure to mark your insides aswell your body to show who you belong.

He loves it when your cunt squeezed his cock.

He'll call you a good boy for that.

When both of you are more on the romantic side he'll be gentle and loving with you.

He'll caressed your body and worship you.

He loves touching your scars btw.

He thinks its fascinating.

"God baby.. you're so damn beautiful.. such a handsome boy eh?.." He softly praised against your ear as he touched your scars.

He grunted when your cunt tightened around him.

"You're getting so tight around me baby boy.. such a good boy huh?"

Yeh...

He sometimes think about having a child with you sometimes.

This man has an extreme breeding kink...

Sometimes he'll rub your lower belly while he's fucking you cunt, whispering praises while he day dream of getting you pregnant.

He's glad you have a cunt ngl.

He could just impregnate you anytime..

But you're still a soldier and you still wanna keep the job so he respects that.

He'll wait when he's allowed to Impregnate you.

But he wont stop fucking you raw.

Sooo you have no choice but to go on birth control🤷.

#cod x male reader #x male reader #bottom male reader #cod x ftm reader #cod x male reader smut #ftm reader #x ftm reader #ftm sub #ftm bottom #price x male reader smut #price x male reader #john price x male reader #captain price #price x reader

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flightlessangelwings · 5 months

Text

Right Where We Belong

Loki x gn!reader

Word count- 3.7k

Dialogue prompt- “ you underestimate how much you mean to me. i wasn’t about to let them hurt you. and i certainly wasn’t about to let them even consider killing you. “ Action prompt-[ SECRET ]: sender, having been secretly following the receiver, saves their life from an immediate threat while remaining hidden from the receiver.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Loki, mutual pining, harassment, kidnapping, minor character death offscreen, feelings, romantic s.ex, praise, takes place mostly in a woodsy/forest area but I left it open as to where in the world it is, pet names (lovely, darling), no use of y/n

Notes- For my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 . I've actually had a rough idea of this story in my head for about a year it just took some time to flesh it out and get it right. For that reason too, there's no series spoilers and is ambiguous as to where it fits on the timeline so you can imagine whenever.

This can be read as a prequel to In My Arms (Over and Over Again) but it can be read on its own. That fic is one of my pride and joys though so I recommend reading it after this one! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new stuff!

Midgard… Earth. It was the last place Loki ever expected to find himself, let alone willingly. Yet, it was the last place anyone would ever think to look for him. So it’s where he found himself when he wanted to be alone, unbothered by any pressures that surrounded him.

Loki had no idea where on the planet he was, but it didn’t matter. The trees of the forest surrounded him and created a shelter of peace where he would just breathe. The warmth of the sun hit his skin, and the fresh air from the trees filled his lungs. It was refreshing. It was peaceful. It was everything he needed.

But, as he made his way through the forest with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of the birds around him, another sound made his eyes shoot open. The roar of a large animal snapped any notion of peace out of Loki’s mind as he found himself nearly face to face with bared, sharp teeth. He wasn’t worried, though, and he smirked as he brandished his dagger in his hand.

Just as Loki was about to attack, however, a voice from behind him made him freeze.

“Wait!”

Loki paused.

The voice continued, “It’s not aggressive, not really,” you were calm as you spoke, “Keep eye contact and back away slowly and it’ll leave you alone. There’s no need to kill it.”

Loki pondered his options. He could easily kill the beast and be done with it. But, there was something about your voice that swayed him, so he did as you instructed. Slowly, he stepped back, putting more distance between himself and the wild animal until it stopped growling and turned away. As it did so, Loki let out a deep breath.

You also let out a sigh of relief as the tall stranger with black hair got closer to you, “She’s just defending herself,” you explained, “Must be a den or a nest around here somewhere. I bet she just had babies too.”

A smirk lit up Loki’s face, “Would you give that benefit of a doubt to anyone?” he asked as he turned to face you, revealing his face to you.

You gasped as you brought your hands to your face, “You’re…” your body tensed as you clearly recognized who you found in the woods, “Loki…”

“Would you have said the same thing if you knew who I was?” Loki challenged, yet no malice was heard in his voice, “Would you grant me the same courtesy?”

Silence filled the air between the two of you for several moments, the tension palpable. But, you exhaled, releasing the tension in your body as you did so, “I guess I would be a hypocrite if I said no, huh?” you said, trying to ease the tension.

Somehow, it worked, and it made Loki let out a genuine laugh. Something he hadn’t done in so long, and if he had to admit, felt nice. “What is your name?” he asked.

You told him.

“Lovely,” Loki said genuinely.

It all blossomed from there. You and Loki fell into conversation easily and naturally, as if you had known each other for a lifetime. And the more time you spent in his presence, the more at ease you felt, not that you were scared of him in the first place. Nervous, yes, but Loki had a calming air about him, and something told you it was ok. And Loki, for one reason or another, felt comfortable around you. You had the same calming aura about you that Loki felt drawn to, and he found he actually wanted to stay and talk to you longer.

That never happened with anyone before… Loki wondered why that was.

Before you knew it, the sun started to set, and you looked up with a gasp, “It’s getting late,” you breathed, “I…” you paused as you stared into Loki’s eyes, “I should go.”

Loki bid you farewell with a nod and watched you leave. And he already decided he was going to keep an eye on you until you were safe. He wasn’t going to let you know, though, and he stayed in the shadows, keeping watch over you from afar. And as he did, he couldn’t help but notice the new feeling in his chest. Sure, Loki had bedded princes and princesses, lords and ladies, and common men and women. But, you… you were different. And he couldn’t help the feeling of fondness towards you.

You seemed to know the path well, and you made your way to the clearing at the edge of the woods in no time. Behind you was the fantasy world, the forest, the place where your life just changed forever. In front of you was the real world, civilization, the daily grind. Taking a deep breath, you took the first step back into reality.

But, as you started to leave, you suddenly found that you were not alone. A chill ran up your spine as a group of men whistled at you, and closed in on you quickly.

“Hey there sweetheart,” one of them grinned darkly.

You didn’t reply, but your hands shook as you looked around for an escape plan.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” another chimed in, “We just want to talk to you.”

A whimper escaped your lips as you hated the helpless feeling that came over you. But, a growl in the distance called all your attention, and everyone snapped over and saw a shadowy creature. All that was visible were glowing eyes and sharp teeth, but it was enough to scare the men away. You, on the other hand, backed away and tried to make yourself smaller in hopes that whatever it was would chase them, and you let out a heavy breath when you felt a rush of wind past you and heard a roar in the distance where the men ran off to.

You stood still for several moments as you processed what happened. For some time, you didn’t dare move, yet something within said you were safe. There was a familiar feeling around the air, as if you were being watched. Yet, you didn’t feel threatened like with the men who approached you. Looking around, you took one tentative step away from where you stood in hopes of finding someone, yet you were alone. After letting out a deep breath, you turned and left, smirking to yourself; you had a hunch who was responsible for the shadowy creature that saved your life. After all, you did notice that the shadowy creature had bright green eyes.

In the shadows, Loki smiled with satisfaction.

One week to the day later, you found yourself back at the same spot. You weren't sure why or what you were expecting, yet you couldn’t help but find your way back there. The sun shone through the trees, warming your skin, and you felt at peace here.

“Well, it looks as if you and I had similar ideas, darling,” a voice chimed through the trees.

“Loki,” you breathed as you turned around and met his gaze. The tension you momentarily held in your shoulders melted away and you grinned widely, “Were you stalking me?” you asked cheekily.

“Never,” Loki replied, “It seems mere coincidence that we both came back to this spot on the same day.”

You gave him a pointed look, but the smirk never left your face, keeping the tone light.

“I promise,” Loki raised his hands in mock surrender, “I’ll never lie to you, my lovely.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the world around you suddenly felt hot, “I.. Uhhh,” you stumbled over your words, unsure of how to respond, “Thanks,” you decided on in a low mumble.

Loki returned the grin you gave him earlier, “Shall we sit, darling?”

It turned into a routine for the two of you. Every week on the same day at the same time, you and Loki met in the woods. It was your escape from the world for both of you. It became a comfort for each of you to seek solace in the other. Although neither of you ever officially made plans, or said you’d be back the next week, you always were.

For you, it was an escape from your life, from your stresses, to meet with Loki. And though you never thought you’d make friends with a Norse god, you were grateful for him. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when you realized tomorrow was your meeting day, and you forced your heart to calm its wild beating as you stood in the woods waiting for him.

And as for Loki, he felt the same way. He never expected to find peace and solidarity on earth, and he certainly didn’t expect to fall… Loki laughed at himself, for so long he chastised his brother for loving someone from earth and here he was… They have more in common than Loki cared to admit. And he wasn’t ready to fully admit his feelings for you yet. They were there though.

Loki paced around the forest; it was unusual for you to not be there waiting for him. It was rare he felt nervous, but Loki couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his gut. Everything in him screamed that something was wrong, and after he waited long enough, Loki decided he was going to look for you.

And may the gods help if anyone hurt you…

You groaned as your body ached. The last thing you remembered was that you were on your way to meet Loki for your weekly rendezvous when you bumped into a group of men who looked like they were up to go good. You gasped and tried to run, but one of them grabbed you. You tried to scream, but no one heard you, and the last thing you heard before a cloth covered your face was, “Wrong place wrong time, sweetheart.”

And that was how you found yourself in a locked room tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged. You wiggled in your binds as much as you could, but it was no use. They were tied too tight, and you had no idea where you were anyway even if you could break free. You didn’t even know what time or what day it was. And you whimpered softly when you realized that you would most likely never see Loki again…

Or so you thought.

Gunshots and screams from a distance called your attention and you snapped up to strain to listen. You faced where the source of the sound was, even if you couldn’t see anything. You didn’t dare move, however, since you had no idea what was happening. Were you going to be safe with whoever attacked the men who kidnapped you? Or would it be worse? You held your breath, pressing your lips together as you tried to calm your trembling hands.

The screaming went on for what felt like hours, and you could only imagine what the men were fighting in their last moments. Part of you didn’t want to dwell on it, but part of you had to have hope that whoever it was would be your savior. You never, however, expected to hear your name after the screaming stopped.

“Loki?” you whispered. When his voice called your name again, you shouted back, “Loki!”

The door burst open, and you heard Loki breathe your name in relief as he rushed over and untied you, “You’re alright, it’s me.”

“Loki?” tears filled your eyes as you were filled with disbelief that he was actually here. He actually came. For you. “You…?”

“I’m here,” he cupped your face, “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head as you felt your body tremble, “A little sore, but I’m ok,” you froze as you looked into his eyes and your heart skipped a beat at the look on his face, “Loki… You… You came for me?” your voice was shaky.

Loki grinned, “Darling… You underestimate how much you mean to me. I wasn't about to let them hurt you. and I certainly wasn’t about to let them even consider killing you.”

Before you could stop yourself, you lunged forward and kissed him deeply. Your bodies smashed together as you pushed everything you had into him, clinging to him hard. You trembled as your emotions overwhelmed you and for a moment, you lost yourself into the feeling of Loki’s lips. It brought a comfort unlike anything you were expecting, and a lone tear fell down your cheek. But, then you realized what you did.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed as you tried to pull away, “I don’t know what came over me.”

Loki just mumbled your name as he cupped your chin and gently turned you so you met his gaze. There was a sure look in his eyes, and it told you everything you needed to know. This time, it was Loki who closed the gap between your faces, kissing you once more. His kiss was more tender, but very purposeful, and Loki wasted no time in darting his tongue past your lips.

You moaned into the kiss as you lost yourself in the emotions once more. For a moment, you forgot where you were as Loki became your entire world. Nothing existed beyond him and his kiss. And the taste of him was immediately intoxicating.

But, neither of you could stay like that forever, and after one last peck on your lips, Loki broke away. He stayed close to you, however, and his voice stayed low and soft and comforting, “Let’s get you out of here.”

Without a word, you nodded.

“Sorry it’s not much,” you stood nervously at your front door as you let Loki inside your place, “It must be completely different than what you’re used to…”

Loki caressed you as he reassured you, “It’s wonderful, darling,” he purred. Truthfully, he wasn’t even paying much attention to your place; Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Feeling his heavy gaze on you, you turned back from where your eyes wandered around the living space and you felt a tingle up your spine at the way Loki eyed you, “Loki…” you whispered.

Time felt like it stopped as you stared into each other’s eyes. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt your heart pound. Between the way his hands cradled your form and the way he looked at you with those dark eyes, you knew exactly what Loki was thinking. And before you lost your nerve, you made your move.

You crashed yourself into him as you pressed your lips into his. Loki immediately yanked your close, his hands roaming up and down your sides as he deepened the kiss. Both of you moaned into each other as you savored the taste of the other. Heat rose in the room as passions erupted, and there was only one thing on both of your minds.

“Bedroom is this way,” you murmured, your tone low, “You want to…?”

“I thought you’d never ask, my lovely,” Loki smirked.

Sliding your hand in his, you led the way, and Loki kept a cheeky grin on his face as he waved his hand the moment you crossed into the bedroom. Suddenly, all your clothes were piled neatly on the dresser, his next to yours. Before you could react to his antic, Loki pounced on you, crashing both your bodies onto the bed.

You landed on your back with Loki overtop of you. You gasped as you found yourself in such a vulnerable position, yet you weren’t scared. You could never be scared of Loki. No, there was a different feeling that pulsed through your veins, and it made your body warm at the thought of what was to come.

Loki hovered over you, his hands on either side of your body. As he trailed up and down your figure with his eyes, Loki felt his cock harden and his heartbeat quicken, “You are absolutely lovely,” he purred, “A decadence of perfection.”

All you could do was whimper as your mind went blank. No one ever whispered such sweet and beautiful words to you, or about you, before. Your hands roamed all over Loki’s bare chest, and you felt a rush of need between your legs as he groaned at your touch. “Please, Loki,” you whispered, “Don’t tease me right now.”

He smiled down at you as he caressed the side of your head, “Don’t worry, darling,” Loki’s tone was just as low as yours, “Let me show you how a god makes love.”

The moan you let out echoed in the room as Loki leaned in and attached his lips to your skin. With expert precision, he nibbled and licked and sucked at every spot that made you mewl, as if he had touched you a thousand times before. Loki groaned into your skin as he kissed his way across your chest before latching onto your nipple.

You arched your back, allowing Loki more access to your body as you dug into his shoulders. Your mind swam in pleasure as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, driving you wild. Bucking your hips into his, you murmured his name once more, begging him for more.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Loki hummed as he kissed his way back up your body, “Exquisite,” his voice was a low rumble that went right to your core. Loki noticed of course, “You like that, darling?” he asked, amused.

He didn’t give you the chance to properly answer as he rocked his hips against yours, dragging his cock between your legs. The action made you moan even louder and you dropped your head down onto the mattress. “Fuck… Loki…”

He exhaled sharply with a grin as he did it again, feeling a tingle up his down spine as he rocked himself against your body. But, as much as Loki wanted to prolong this, the way you cried out, and especially moaned his name, made him more impatient than usual. “Are you ready, darling?” he asked as he reached between your bodies and lined his cock up with your entrance.

“Yes,” you replied immediately, “Please, Loki.”

Loki groaned as he slowly pushed himself inside you, feeling your warmth engulf him. Both of you gasped loudly as he filled you inch by inch. You cried out as he pushed deeper inside you, and you wrapped your arms and legs around him as much as you could, holding him tightly.

Once Loki’s hips met yours, he immediately started a slow yet harsh pace. Skin slapped against skin as Loki drove his cock into you over and over again. Your mouth dropped open as the moans and cries flowed freely- music to his ears.

“That’s it, darling,” Loki purred, “So beautiful…” he mourned your name as he lost himself in you.

As Loki’s cock hit that one spot deep inside you, your eyes shot open and you screamed louder, “Loki! Fuck! Yes!”

He growled as he picked up his pace, aiming for that spot every time, “I’m close too, darling,” he groaned, “Fuck, you’re so lovely.”

“Loki…” you whimpered as you saw stars and felt your skin tingle.

It only took a few more thrusts for you to completely fall apart and you came with a loud scream. Your nails dug into his skin as your entire body trembled. Never in your life had you felt a pleasure like this, and it brought fresh tears to your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.

Loki groaned as he watched the spectacle you put on just for him. His arms trembled as he fought to keep himself overtop of you, not wanting to miss a moment of your climax. Although you couldn’t hear over your screams, Loki mumbled soft praises as you came on his cock. And he had never seen anything in the nine realms more beautiful than you were right there in that moment.

And that was when Loki couldn’t hold back any more. He came hard, his own orgasm overtaking his entire body. And Loki did something he had never done before in bed- he moaned your name as he spilled himself deep inside you. Tears of his own formed in the corners of his eyes as he gave one last thrust before he fell forward.

Heavy breaths filled the room as you both came down from your highs. Loki placed a series of feather light kisses on your skin wherever he could reach as he caressed your body tenderly. Once he gathered his strength, he carefully pulled out of you, kissing the side of your head as you gasped. Loki didn’t go far, though, and he settled in your bed with you gathered safely and secretly in his arms. Together, the two of you laid like that for several moments in a comfortable silence.

Until you broke it with a question that had been on your mind for some time, “Why me?” you asked.

Loki grinned, “Remember the day we first met?” he paused as you nodded, “You can see beyond what’s in front of you, and that, my lovely, is a rare occurrence in the universe,” Loki cradled you in his arms as you let out a deep breath, “Sleep now. I’ll watch over you. You’re always safe with me.” He placed a feather light kiss on your head.

“I know I am,” you yawned contently, “Loki I…” you fell asleep mid thought.

Loki watched you for some time as he whispered to your sleeping form, “I’ll protect you, darling. No one will ever harm you again, I’ll make sure of it.”

As Loki watched you sleep, he noticed that the beat of your heart was the exact same rhythm that drew him to earth time and time again. It was like a siren song that called out to him although neither if you were aware of it. Was it soulmates, as your people would call it? Perhaps… but Loki was never one to believe such fables… until now. He smirked to himself before he fell asleep in the last place he expected. But it was right where he belonged. And you were right where you belonged: safely in his arms.

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