#the only downside? they live a good hour or so away from me

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m and f receiving)

wc: 4.9K

Chapter 2: Let the fun and games begin

The next day was a blur of anxiety as you didn’t know what to do about last night. Rose and Ward had left early this morning taking Wheezie to drop her off at her camp. That just left you, Sarah and Rafe all alone at Tannyhill. This normally wouldn’t have been a problem but considering Sarah is MIA it became one. Every room you enter fills you with anxiety and dread of seeing Rafe. How do you even look at him after what happened? After he caught you watching him fuck his fist. Alright you think as you start to throb just thinking about how his arms flexed everytime he stroked himself. This is getting out of hand, it was one thing for your thoughts to keep you up all night but it can't affect your daily routine.

What’s the worst that can happen right? So what if you stood there and watched him, he would have done the same in your position. Hell he probably would have taken it as an invitation if he walked in on you like that. But no matter how you tried to spin it in your head it all led to the same conclusion. You were utterly fucked. The past year was easy to blow him off, all you had to do was think about all the girls you saw crying over him. But now that you caught a glimpse of that side of him you can’t help wanting to get a closer look. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, you thought. It really wouldn’t, he’s really handsome and if his reputation is right then he’s also really good in bed.

Then you think about Wheezie and how hurt she would be if something went wrong and you had to leave. The thought of hurting her alone was good enough for the thoughts to finally stop. No matter how attractive Rafe is it isn't worth it, plus his personality would probably ruin it before it even starts. Yeah the two of you are completely different, he grew up rich and thinks the world is his to rule and you grew up in the cut. If it wasn’t for this job you would still be living at home barely making anything to feed yourself. He only tolerates you because he thinks you are hot and you work for his family. Yup that it, right?

The tv plays in the background reruns of Grey’s Anatomy playing as you try to relax. It’s close to five o’clock and no one is in the house. Sarah is probably off with John B and Rafe is well he’s mostly likely off somewhere getting high. Derek’s voice plays in your ear as you focus back onto the screen forcing yourself to think of anything but the older Cameron. Watching as the surgery scene plays out your phone pings. Mom: Hi baby. Just wanted to let you know dad and I are having a cookout tomorrow night. We would like it if you came, we know you’re a busy bee but we miss you. You let out a sigh looking at the message. It wasn’t that your relationship with your parents is bad, they just expected a lot from you. 

It was always about getting good grades so you could get a good job and help them out with bills. They wanted you to take care of them once you had a stable job. So when you decided to take up a job as a nanny they weren’t too pleased.  The displeasure faded away once they found out it was being a nanny for the Camerons. Even though the paycheck was nice, well more than nice, it still wasn’t enough to cover their expenses and your own. It’s been a constant argument between the three of you. You type out a quick response before she starts sending you more. You: Hey! I miss you both. I’ll try to make it, Ward and Rose asked me to watch the house while they are gone. Your phone wasn’t even out of your hand before it went off again with another message. Mom: I’m sure they won’t mind you being away for a few hours. But if you can’t make it we will just see you another time then. Her message seems so understanding but deep down you know she's upset. Fingers go to respond but a voice scares you. The phone drops from your hand as you whip your head to look at who came into the living room. “Still pretending to text that boyfriend of yours?” Rafe says, making his way over to the couch and plopping down near you. Scoffing at him you respond. “No, I'm texting my mother.” “oh so you admit the boyfriend was fake.”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he grins at you, watching to see what your next move will be. “Yeah it was fun watching you get jealous but I decided to give it a rest for tonight.” The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, he’s looking at what you are wearing. You didn’t notice it at the time but it’s one of his old shirts that got mixed with your laundry a while ago. It looks like a dress on you blocking the view of your sleep shorts underneath. Which is a good thing because those shorts leave nothing to the imagination, barely covering you up from the world. Every now and then you wear it but only in your room, not allowing yourself to let him know you have it. 

“Nice shirt.” He comments scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. “You should wear it more often Sunny. Really makes your eyes pop.” Mhm you mumble knowing that he’s not looking anywhere near your eyes. In fact he’s staring at the exposed flesh of your thighs. Skimming up along your legs pausing for a moment at your cunt. Rafe’s eyes on you are making you wiggle in your seat as you try to focus back on the show. It is quiet for a moment as the voices of the characters fill the room. The sky outside starts to darken as the sun finally sets, the room painted in the soft lights of the screen.

Rafe is staring at you, looking at how the light washes of blue dance across your features as you try your best to not stare at him. Movement catches your attention as you see him slide further along the cushions to sit right next to you. “Where’s Sarah?” He whispers by my ear, his right hand brushes against your left thigh. “Um… I don’t know. Maybe she’s with John B or the rest of them.” Clearing your throat, the voice leaving you sounding weak. “Hmm so it’s just us in the house?” The question was met with his hand resting fully on your thigh. Lightly squeezing you as it slowly goes a bit higher right where the shirt ends, fingers quickly skirting underneath before going back to its original position. 

“Rafe.” The rest of the statement was cut off by him. ”Don’t do that. Enough with this game of cat and mouse. I know you want this as badly as I do.” A moan slips from you as his hand goes back under the shirt to tease you through your shorts. Rafe’s middle finger grazing you up and down, noticing the way your eyes screw shut. Creases forming around them as he keeps playing with you. “We shouldn’t do this, I literally work for your family.” You try to reason with him turning to be face to face, whimpering as the heat of his hand leaves as he retracts it. 

“I know.” He whispers as the hand that was touching your caresses your check, knotting into your hair to drag you closer. The other hand worms it way back to your shorts, sliding them to the side to finally feel you. “Fuck no panties? See you’re practically soaking those little shorts of yours.” You moan as he circles your clit with a feather-like touch. “Are you always this wet or do you like me touching you like this?” He chuckles as you move further into his touch. “You’re not special Cameron. I’m always this wet.” The response stops all movement, the grip in her hair tightening for a short second causing your eyes to open. Meeting the blue eyes that haunted you all night, you let go.  “Don’t stop.” 

Your lips crash into his, soft pillowy lips melting together, teeth nipping at each other's lips as Rafe’s fingers continue their assault. “That’s a good girl, Sunny. Fucking perfect.” The words tickle your lips, head thrown back as he makes his way to your entrance. Rafe pushes his middle finger in, dragging it along your walls in a delicious and intoxicating way. Moans keep slipping from your lips and only intensifies as his lips skate across your skin, latching onto your neck. 

A second finger joins his middle one curling just enough to hit your g-spot, tingles spread across your body, legs spreading giving him better access. “Right there.” You moan, your hand landing on his thigh trying to ground yourself when all you can feel is pleasure. Wet squelching fills your eyes only adding to the sensation of his thick fingers fucking you open. “That feel good, baby?” Rafe picks up his speed before taking his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth. He moans around his fingers, pushing you back to lay down on the couch.  “Come on, pretty girl, lay down for me. Want to have my dinner.” 

Your brain is so hazy from having his fingers inside you that you don’t fight back. Lifting your hips, his hands wrap around your hips to pull the pathetic excuse you call shorts down your legs. The flimsy material being thrown off to the side, shirt pushed up to your waist exposing you to him for the first time. “God your pussy’s perfect. Look at it clenching around nothing. Want me to fill you up.” His lips start to kiss up your thigh, biting into the soft flesh when you don’t respond. “Please.” You whine 

“Please what? Use your words, I know a smart girl like you can do it.” The praise goes straight to your head, hips lifting off the couch trying to chase after his touch. “Please, sir.” The whimper halts Rafe and he stares up at you. After a moment of him not doing anything you look down at him between your legs. If you had a camera in this moment you would take a picture, he was a sight to be seen. Rafe’s lips are puffy and red but his eyes are staring at you with this hunger that makes you go to close your legs but he stops you. Both hands spread your legs as he dives into your cunt.

“Fuck that wasn’t what I was looking for but I’ll be damned if you don’t call me that.” His voice vibrates against you sending chills down your body. “Say it again.” His middle and ring finger push into you once again, pumping in a cruel slow pace. “Please, sir. It feels so good.” Your walls flutter around the fingers inside you, his tongue kitty licking your clit. “Such a good little slut. Begging me to keep finger fucking you like some depraved whore.” His words cause you to squeeze his finger and throw your head back with a moan. 

“Yeah you like being degraded?” A chuckle leaves him “Should’ve known you would like it. Prancing around the house in those little skirts. Just asking for me to bend you over some surface to fuck you. Bet you want me to fuck that attitude right out of you. Huh would that finally shut up that little mouth of yours?” With his fingers curling into you deeper and his mouth suctioning against your clit no words come out. Your mouth hangs open and all you can do is place your hand behind his head, keeping him as close as possible to you. 

A choked moan is lodged in your throat, eyes peeking at him through your lashes. His eyes are closed as he keeps devouring you, his hips thrusting into the couch to relieve the growing pain in his pants. Rafe wanted nothing more than to rip his pants off and shove his dick into your tight pussy. If you were squeezing him so nicely now, he can only imagine how good you would feel wrapped around his cock. He wanted to watch as you crumble into a mess of pleasure, taking his dick like a cock drunk slut. The thought of that alone causes his hips to stutter, the feeling making him moan into your pussy.

At this rate you can feel your peak creeping up fast. “Oh god Rafe. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Hips thrusting up to match the brutal pace his fingers have set. If you thought his arms looked good jerking himself off, nothing compares to watching it flex as he fucks you. “I’m not stopping, baby. I’m never going to stop. But that’s not my name.” Rafe means it too. Just the little taste of you has ruined him, no one will be able to compare to the sweet taste of you. “Sir!” you squeal. He's drunk off the feeling and taste of you, every clench of your pussy making him grind harder into the cushion. “I can feel you squeezing me. You want to be my good girl right? Cum for me Sunny.”

With a graze of his teeth on your clit, you were sent to ecstasy. Hips thrashing all around as he kept sucking on your clit, fingers pushing deeper into you riding out your orgasim. Once you come down he removes his fingers, quickly cleaning them with his tongue before diving back into you. Licking you clean and holding you down by the waist as you try to escape him. When he’s finally done he lets you go, leaning back, chest heaving looking down at you.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. So fucked out catching your breath with a peaceful look on your face. Eyes still closed you don’t notice him leaning back down, encasing your body with his. His thumb lightly dances along your cheek, waiting for you to open your eyes to look at him. “Thank you.” You whisper suddenly shy as if he wasn’t just eating you out like you were his last meal. Rafe laughs, kissing you deeply before moving off of you. “Such good manners.” He walks over to your shorts, throwing them back at you, making his way out of the room. “I have to go deal with something. I’ll be back later okay.”

Silence wraps around you, the tv displaying Are you still watching? Getting up you pull your shorts back on looking around the couch for your phone and the remote. Finding your phone you also notice something on the couch. A huge wet spot from where you were laying, heat rushes to your checks knowing you just soiled an expensive couch.

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The rest of the night was uneventful, Sarah never came back home so you were left all alone. Usually you and Wheezie would spend the summer nights outside swimming in the pool or staying up late chatting about god knows what. Without her there really wasn’t anything to do besides lay around or go to a party. After much consideration the only one that seemed right was staying at home. You knew Rafe would most likely be at the party, the something he had to deal with being selling coke. After last night and tonight you don’t even know how to face him again.

So staying at home was the best option in your books. A few hours were spent reading whatever romance book was on your bookshelf and making dinner for yourself. By midnight you were fast asleep in your room. Sleeping so peacefully, the sounds of the bedroom door opening weren't noticed. It was the door closing that stirred you from your slumber, looking at the bedside clock you noticed it was past two in the morning. Soft footsteps echo in the dark room, the person fumbling their way around knocking down whatever they made contact with. “Fuck” they curse the sound barely reachign you.

Scared and not knowing what to do you lay there slowly reaching for the bat by your bed. Even though this is a good neighborhood and people would have to have the gate code to get in you can never be too safe. The bat is now next to you in the bed, the side behind you dipping with the weight of the person sitting on it. “Sunny.” They whisper. Are you fucking kiddin’t me? “Rafe?” His hand wraps around you to turn you around, the bat coming along with you. “Jesus. Is that a fucking bat?”

Rafe slips it out of your hand placing it under your bed before going back to you. “Do you always keep a bat on you?” “Depends. Do you always sneak into girls' beds at two in the morning?” The moon shining through the windows dimly lit the room, contouring his face. “Only the pretty ones.” He whispers in the space between you two, telling you a secret he normally wouldn’t say. “I’m sure you say that to all of them.” You tease trying to put distance between you both. It’s weird having him laying in your bed, sure the two of you were friendly, things only changing the previous day. But this is different, he’s in your room, he’s laying in your bed next to you.

“Nah none of them need the sweet words to sleep with me.” Cocky tone matching the grin growing on his face. “Oh of course. Forgot that the kook king was also a king in the bedroom.” Rolling your eyes and lying on your back, you stare at the ceiling. Of course he would only say nice things to get into your pants, you don’t know why you could even think differently. Rafe’s face invades your eye line as he rests all his weight onto one arm to get a better look at you. His eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated scanning your face hoping it can tell him what you are thinking. 

“Penny for your thoughts.” Your eyes shut trying to form words with all the things you want to say. That he made you feel something no one else has been able to do, how you want to keep chasing that feeling, but more importantly that it was a mistake. It doesn’t matter that it felt amazing, that whatever it was would only lead to heartbreak. You’ve seen this film before with all the girls he flaunted around the house. “This.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes to the window. “This can’t keep happening.” 

Rafe takes a hold of your chin turning you to look at him. “Do you want it to keep happening?” The loaded question fizzling in the air was replaced by a quick “No.” leaving your lips. “But it doesn’t matter what I want.” “It does matter.” Blue eyes burning into your own pleading for you not to take away these moments. Communicating with you that he needs this as much as you need him. “It can be our little secret. I promise I won’t tell.” You giggle, his head burying into the crook of your neck, kissing the junction where your shoulder and neck meets. 

You try to push him by his shoulder but he won’t budge, kissing up your neck until he meets your ear. “Stop letting life pass you by. You stay cooped up in this house with Wheeze all day, she’s not a kid you know. When was the last time you let yourself go?” His breath tickles your ear before biting it and continuing to kiss your skin. Rafe’s right, you don’t do anything fun anymore. Before you took this job you would go out constantly, always with friends running around the island. Wheezie shouldn’t even need a nanny, the only reason you have this job is because Ward was scared. Sarah running away and Rafe doing drugs all the time made him paranoid, he doesn’t want the same to happen to her.

“I don’t know, I would say what we did on the couch would count.” His kisses travel to your jaw, then check, and finally meet your lips. “Yeah I would say it counts. Fucking soaked the couch from how wet you were.” You tense for a moment, embarrassed that he noticed the mess you made. “Nah nah don’t get shy on me pretty girl. You’re just as dirty and depraved as I am.” Pretty girl, that's the second time he’s called you pretty since he sneaked into your room. “You’re high, you should go to sleep.”

“Not high, that shit is practically out of my system at this point.” Kissing your lips he weasels his way on top of you. Your legs widening allowing him to slot his hips between yours, his dick rubbing you in the right way. You are still wearing the shorts from earlier, his dick making the fabric  stick to your folds. “Just want to feel you.” Rafe’s words punctuated with his hips slowly thrusting against you, lips kissing any exposed skin he can get to. “I’m not letting you fuck me after you’ve been taking drugs all night.”

You can feel him smile against your skin, giving you a peck and moving his head to meet your gaze. “So what I’m hearing is you would let me fuck you any other time.” scoffing you roll your eyes flicking his forehead. “Yeah dumbass that’s what I’m saying. It's too bad. I guess we’ll have to find another way.” “Another way?” There’s that smirk again, a fluttering feeling starts in your stomach. Shaking the feeling away you pull him up by his face to kiss you, using all of your body weight to get him on his back. Throwing your leg over his hip you straddle him. 

Rafe is the first to break the kiss, watching you from below as you start to grind against him. “Tell me princess exactly what is this other way?” The hand that was resting on your neck makes its way down the valley of your breast, teasing you nipples through the shirt with a pinch before finding its home on your hip. Viewing him from this angle is breathtaking, the moon painting him in a light blue. “Let me suck your dick.” His hips thrust up into your after hearing how you want to suck him off. “Yeah? Want to put the little mouth of yours to good use.” You grind a little harder leaning down to kiss his neck.

There’s a slight taste of sweat on his skin, probably from partying too hard, it doesn’t stop you from sucking on his pulse point. Pecking up to his ear and placing kisses right behind it, gaining moans from him. Bingo. Sucking on his sweat spot he uses his grip on your hips to move you back and forth. “Yeah. I want to feel you in my mouth, want to taste you.” This causes him to groan bucking into you. “Fuck! Yeah, yeah you can have whatever you want baby.” The words are like a reward, smiling as you look down at him, your hair covering the two of you from the outside world.

“Good boy.” Two simple words, two words that had him wrapped around your finger. The grip on your hip tightens as you kiss down his body, pulling his shirt over his head so you can nip at his skin. Your hands reach between your bodies undoing the belt and pants button easing the pain the zipper was giving him. He’s so painfully hard he can’t even remember the last time he wanted someone this much. “You like being my good boy just as much as I like being your good girl. If you admit it I’ll suck you so good.” You whisper, eyes flickering up to look at him. 

If his ego wasn’t so big he would admit it, he would tell you just how fucking bad he wanted to be good for you. But that’s not who he is, admitting something like that would just show you how weak he truly is, he can’t do that. “Oh you begging for me to fill that mouth up of yours and fuck that tone out of you.” He taunts from above, grasping at anything to give him the upper hand. “You’ll definitely be filling up my mouth. It’s just going to be under my rules.” Pushes his shorts and boxers down his cock springs free bobbing in front of your face. Reaching up you grab him and give him a little squeeze, electing a groan out of the boy laid out on your bed.

You kiss his left thigh before licking him from the base up to the mushroom tip that was red, begging for attention. The taste of pre-cum invades your tongue as you wrap your lips around him, sucking just the tip. He’s heavy in your mouth and you only have the tip in but based off of the quick glance you got you knew he was big. Like huge, he’s also wide, stretching your lips as you take more of him in. If he’s stretching you out like this then you can only imagine what fucking him would do. As if Rafe was a mind reader he calms your nerves. “Don’t worry baby, we’ll make it fit. Just…just keep sucking like that.” 

Humming around him, you start to move your head up and down, making sure to hollow your cheeks and give him a nice long suck on the way up. Repeating the motion you get into a rhythm, right hand wrapped around what you can’t fit helping you along. “Fuck that feels good. Who knew that mouth was good for something else other than talking back.” The vibrations of your chuckle send pleasure through Rafe’s body. He doesn’t know whether to watch you or to shut his eyes and enjoy the moment. But looking at the way your eyes are closed, worshiping his dick has him throwing his head back. His eyes closing, moans escaping him as he wraps your hair in a ponytail in his hands. Guiding your pace he pulls your hair this causes you to moan around the sensation making you wet. 

“Touch yourself.” The command takes you by surprise, following it, your unoccupied hand makes its way into your shorts. You're wet, wet is an understatement, you were soaked. You would never admit this but you liked the feeling of him in your mouth, the feeling of him rutting into you. “You get off on this shit don’t you?” Your fingers rub faster on your clit, already so close to cumming just by sucking him off. “Knew you were a cock slut. Damn baby.” He huffs between breaths. 

All you can do is moan and keep sucking, picking up the pace of your bobbing, moving your arm to slip a finger inside yourself. Rafe lifts his head at your movements, entranced by just watching you. His beautiful little Sunny being perfect, your eyes flutter open and his breath hitches. He’s going to remember this moment forever, it’s going to play on repeat in his head every minute of every day. Whatever happens after this is worth it in his eyes, this right here made it worth it. “If you keep going I’m gonna cum.” He moans, head falling back onto your pillow. 

Disconnecting from him a string of saliva and pre-cum kept the two of you tethered. “That’s kinda the point, pretty boy.” You continue your previous movements, on the verge of cumming yourself. You can feel him throbbing ready to explode in your mouth so you squeeze his base tighter, letting him know it's okay and you want it. “Can you be a good boy and come for me sir?” Not even a second later he lets go, white ropes of cum filling your mouth as you cum right after him. Swallowing around him, you let him go, releasing him from your mouth, the hand in your pants laying motionless. 

Rafe lets go of your hair, grabbing your arms to pull you up his body. The motion was so fast that you had to catch yourself as your body tumbles on top of him. He reaches for your hand, still glistening from your sum to pop them into his mouth. Rafe’s tongue swirls around the digest, licking them clean and releasing them to kiss you. “Taste just as sweet like before.” He kisses you, turning your bodies so you are both laying on your sides.

He has a soft smile on his lips, hands rubbing up and down your arm as he regulates his breathing. “Did so good, sunny.” His eyes are barely open, fighting off the sleep threatening to overcome him. “Yeah?” You whisper resting your head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort with his arms wrapped around you. Snoring mets your ears as sleep takes you along with it. For the second night in a row, you go to bed with the taste of him still lingering on your taste buds.

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron

[qvietspvce]

x

#pers #I went on a date last night with a very lovely non binary person #and their whole vibe was so soothing and comforting #and without going into too much detail it was very successful 👀 #and we’ve been texting a lot and are planning to meet up in a few weeks bc their very busy and are going to London for a bit #also they’re poly and we’ve already had a frank discussion on what that means for us two to be dating/seeing each other #the only downside? they live a good hour or so away from me #but honestly I drive further to meet with clients #so it isn’t really a downside and the drive is stunning #oh! and they want to go on adventures and I explained I’m not really an outdoors person #but they’ve said that they’re happy to do mini outdoors adventures #so maybe we can go camping one weekend??

[shotmrmiller]

Submitting to his dominance part I

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: mean dominant, rough oral

18+ MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Being Johnny’s best friend had its downsides. Like how he essentially forced you into ‘guy talk’. Yeah, sure, you liked women too. But having to listen to him rant about his conquests was going to make you tear your hair out. You liked women, you did, but this buffoon going on about what he liked to do in bed was too much. He was essentially your brother from another mother. Ew.

An hour into his stories, you tell him that if you have to sit through any more of his freaky sexcapades, you might just murder him. And that’s how he brings up Ghost. You’ve met him several times— being Johnny’s residential pest. He was a big motherfucker who always had his face covered. You always were a sucker for the tall, dark, and mysterious type but he always seemed uninterested in everything— including you.

“Ye think I’m a reprobate, hen, ye should hear ‘bout Ghost! He’s the freaky one! Telling the lasses he’s with to kneel and behave or will spank them ‘til they cry. Ghost is a skyrocket, I tell ya!” And that gets your attention. 

“What?” you blurt out. 

“Yeah, hen! He’s into the whole collar and gags— boorish if ye ask me.” 

You could kiss Johnny. Having more than dabbled in the world of BDSM, you knew you could handle many things— maybe even more than what Ghost offered. You bite back an ecstatic smile as Johnny continues with his story-telling, but you aren’t listening anymore.

Unbeknownst to Johnny, he’s just given you a way into Ghost’s trousers.

━

You lounge on the couch as Ghost and Johnny sit around the island drinking. By the sound of Johnny talking in cursive, he’s more than a little sloshed. Then he slaps his hand on the countertop, the sound startling you, and declares how he’s gonna go take a piss. You roll your eyes. Charming.

He stumbles away and then it’s just you two in the living area. This is your only chance. Steeling your nerves, you make your move. 

“Hey. Ghost.” 

He turns his head to the side a little, a cue that he’s listening. 

“I have a proposition for you.” Then stand up and make your way towards him, casually leaning against the island. Ghost looks completely lax, but his eyes sparkle with slight interest. 

Now or never.

You summon your courage and say, “Johnny spoke of you being dominant in bed. I want you to dominate me.” 

He looked at you with a hooded gaze, before scoffing. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, pet.”

That’s not an outright no. This horse isn’t dead yet, so you’re gonna continue to beat it. 

“Said you like to collar your women. Keep them quiet with a gag. I can crawl on my knees if you ask it of me. I’ll speak when spoken to.” 

Ghost’s shoulders are stiff as he stares around your face as if trying to catch a sign of a prank. He inhales and looks like he’s about to shut you down completely but you talk first.

“My safeword is Pelican. I like to be ordered around, spanked, and tied up. I promise to surrender myself completely. I promise to be a good girl for you.”

Ghost sits there, looking at you in complete silence. Your heart pounds in your ears, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. Maybe he’s not interested. Maybe Johnny had been joking. God, you didn’t even think about it being a bloody joke.

You straighten, getting ready to either run away or curl up and die when two big hands grab onto your hips— keeping you in place.

“You want to be dominated, eh?” and pulls you to stand in between his legs.

“I’m not going to be kind,” and tightens his grip on you, “I’m not going to murmur sweet nothings in your ear. I’m going to use you for my pleasure— like my personal sex toy.” 

One hand moves from your waist to grab your hair in a vicious grip and pulls you down to his eye level, close to his masked face.

“Oh, pet. I’m going to ruin you.”

You swallow hard because you know he is and can’t wait but then the sound of the bathroom door opening brings you back into the present. Ghost lets go of your hair and you jump back, putting space between you. 

As you run your fingers through your hair, Johnny stumbles into the kitchen, tripping over a chair. Positively pissed. You move to catch him, putting his arm over your shoulder, yours around his waist to hold him upright.

“Right, Johnny boy, it’s time for bed.” you chuckle at his drunken mumbles.

After tucking him in, you head back to the kitchen. To Ghost. You watch him put his used glass into the sink before crossing his arms and leaning back. Expectantly. As you’re about to walk to him, he holds his hand up in a stopping gesture. 

“No. You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, remember?” he cocks his head to the side, and with finality in this tone says, “Crawl.”

Oh. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It starts now. Your reaction is visceral— dropping to your knees so hard they’ll be bruised tomorrow. Holding eye contact, you slowly drag your body towards him. One hand forward, then a leg. Repeat. 

Reaching his feet, you keep your palms flat on Johnny’s wooden floor and arch your back to look up at Ghost with wide eyes. He looks cool, indifferent. But the bulge in his jeans tells you otherwise. 

You wait for him patiently, continuously holding eye contact and it feels like an hour has passed before he talks. Commands.

“Take my cock out.” 

Your thighs tremble in anticipation, your pussy throbbing at his words. Hands to his waist, you can’t unbuckle his belt fast enough. You hook your fingers into his pants and pull hard enough that you hear a seam unstitch. That earns you a slap across the cheek, hard enough to sting. 

“Careful.” You wish you could say it was a reprimand but the feel of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of your cheeks sends a jolt straight to your cunt. 

Pants down, you stare at his cock. It’s a goddamn sight. Long and so very thick, heavy enough that even erect, it bends downward— foreskin covers half of the head and balls hang low. A masterpiece. 

Another slap to your cheek snaps you out of your adoration. 

“Open your mouth, pet.” 

He tastes of salt and his musk. You could sit here with him in your mouth forever. You go as deep as you can take him and he hisses when you hold him there until you gag and pull back— getting the stringy saliva from the back of your throat onto his cock. Flattening your tongue, you start to bob on his length until he’s properly wet. 

Ghost puts his hand on your head and begins to rock his hips and you start to add a twist with your head on every thrust. Soon, you feel him leaking more salty precum and know he’s close so you start sucking— cheeks sinking in. His thrusts start to get harsher and sloppier and the noises coming from your throat as he fucks it is sinful.

His grip shifts from your head to your hair and you put your hands on his thighs— digging your nails into his skin and he growls out, “That’s it. Come on, pet, you can take it.” 

Then there’s salty blooming on your tongue, cum leaking from the corners of your mouth because there’s simply no more room with his cock in it— dripping down your chin and onto the floor. It’s completely silent apart from Ghost’s stuttering breaths and Johnny’s muffled snoring behind his closed door.

Ghost pulls out his softening length and tucks it away, pulling his jeans back up but leaving the belt unbuckled. He then cups your jaw and makes you watch him watch you swallow his cum.

He gives you a light tap on your reddened cheek from his previous slaps and breathily says, “Atta girl. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.” 

Your knees throb and your thighs burn but his compliment makes every single ache worth it. Any crumb of praise from him, you’ll take. 

He bends down to your kneeled form before saying, “Next week, I’m gonna pass by your flat. Until then, you do not masturbate, you do not come— And I don’t care what you tell Johnny but make sure he doesn’t visit.” and turns to leave. 

Clearing your throat, you croak out, “But you don’t even have my address.” 

Holding the door open, Ghost shrugs. 

“Don’t have to tell me. I know where you live, pet.”  The noise of the door clicking shut echoed through the apartment. With a groan, you put your arse on the floor and slowly extend your knees— hissing at the sharp pain of your knees finally unbending. Ghost is mean. So mean. How does he expect you to not touch yourself when the cum still drying on your chin has you soaking your knickers?

@thychuvaluswife

A/N: ha ha! hes a lean mean machine! i had way too much fun writing this i need help

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader

[d1xonss]

could i request a oneshot where daryl is sick and y/n wants to help take care of him? just super fluffy stuff? thanks😙😙

Chicken Soup for the Soul

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 9

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ This request is so cute to me :,( I had so much fun writing it. Not much to update on today, but thank you to whoever suggested this! Hope you enjoy!

Alexandria had always been a place full of safety and comfort. With living behind the thick, tall walls and having some of your favorite people living only a few houses away, you absolutely loved the community you were a part of. The only downside now, was the cold months only getting colder.

Every time without fail during this time of year, it would get much colder than what everyone was used to all the time. Normally it would constantly be warm, almost scorching some days because of how harshly the sun baked your skin. But in the first few weeks of the new year, it felt like it was constantly freezing. Granted the temperature usually lingered in the thirties, it was far more frigid than what everyone around here was normally used to.

Which was why currently you were cuddled up on the couch, a fluffy blanket covering your lap and a book in your hands, reading in the dim light of your living room. You occasionally felt the warmth of the fire next to you creep up to provide even more heat whilst you passed the time, waiting for your husband to return home.

He currently was out on a run that had lasted a few days, though he promised he would be home sometime today at the latest. You were a bit weary of him going out in the first place, warning him that this weather was cold and unpleasant, not wanting him to be miserable out there. But he brushed everything off as the typical stubborn man would do, assuring you that he would be just fine and he could handle it. And though you knew he could, it still didn’t stop you from worrying the littlest bit while he was out.

But a sigh of relief passed through your chest as you began to hear the faintness of the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, signaling he had finally returned as he made his way down the streets. A smile spread across your face as you finished up the page you were on, before finding your bookmark and placing it in the spine, setting it off to the side just as you heard the engine of the bike shut off in your driveway. It felt like only a few seconds passed before you finally heard the front door opening, his heavy footsteps trailing inside.

“Hi honey.” you called softly as you swung your legs over the side of the couch, standing up to peer around the corner at him.

He grunted as he removed all the things from around his shoulders, looking up at you with a soft and tired smile, “Hey.” he spoke quietly, trudging over towards your frame to practically melt around you.

Your smile stretched even wider than before as you held him, rubbing his back soothingly as you heard him exhale deeply in relaxation. Just by feeling his tense and sore muscles around you, it was clear to sense how tired he really was, it was even written all over his face. The two of you stayed in each others arms for minutes in just peaceful silence, taking each other in after being apart for far too long.

But according to Daryl, even an hour was too long to be away from you. Meaning these past three days must've have been torture.

“How was the trip?” you asked softly, your voice being the one to break the silence that surrounded you.

He sniffled and cleared his throat as he nodded to confirm everything went fine, “Good.” he spoke, “Gotta couple crates of supplies.”

You hummed, “That’s good to hear…I’m glad you’re home.” you admitted quietly as you held onto him a little bit tighter.

His deep and vibrating laugh shook in his chest as he instantly seemed to agree, “Me too, baby girl.” he said before finishing his sentence with another sniffle.

You paused for a moment as you heard the small and distinct sound for a second time. Now that you really thought about it, he felt a lot warmer to you than usual as you continued to stay wrapped around him. It might’ve just been you reading too much into things, but something seemed a little off.

So you reluctantly pulled away from him then, seeing in his eyes now that he was utterly exhausted, “You okay?”

He nodded slow as you saw him swallow a bit thickly, “Yeah, just…just tired.” he confirmed.

But you weren’t convinced. Before he could process your next moves, you quickly raised the back of your hand up to his forehead to check his temperature. He sighed in defeat as your hand already made contact with his skin, your eyes widening upon feeling Satan's hellfire burning your hand at the simple touch. 

That may have been a little dramatic, but he felt quite warm.

“Honey, you’re burning up.” you said softly as your hand moved down to cradle the side of his face, “Are you sick?”

He scoffed as he opened his mouth to deny it, but instead, he quickly turned his face away and into his elbow to sneeze loudly, the sound practically bouncing off the walls.

Your eyes rolled, “So that’s a yes.”

“I ain’t sick.” he defended roughly as he turned back to face you again, “Maybe yer hand’s just cold.” he tried.

“Uh huh.” you muttered, “Then how do you explain the sniffles and that dramatic ass sneeze?” you asked with a tilted head.

He was silent for a long moment as his gaze stayed on the ground, trying to come up with a good reason other than the obvious. “Allergies?”

You scoffed, “You’re sick.” you concluded as you reached out to tilt his chin up so he would look you in the eye again, “Why don’t you head upstairs and hop in the shower. I’ll get you some medicine and I’ll make-”

“Nah, no, I’ll be just fine. Just need some rest is all.” he interrupted.

You couldn’t help but tilt your head at him a little as you silently knew why he was always so persistent about this kind of thing. Daryl always felt like he had to tough it out his whole life, act as if nothing phased him in the slightest as he carried nearly the weight of the world on his shoulders. The truth was it made him feel weak, asking others for help, having someone else take care of him, he felt he almost didn’t deserve it. 

But you on the other hand knew that he deserved everything and more. Sometimes it just took some reassurance to get him there.

“Sweetie, you are constantly taking care of me. Just let me take care of you.” you spoke sweetly and gently, your tone being enough for him to nearly cave right then and there.

Though he still looked unsure for a few more seconds, not wanting you to go through any trouble as he was capable of taking care of himself. He never wanted to bombard you with his needs as he was perfectly content with giving you everything you wanted, pretty much constantly waiting on you hand and foot. But still to this day for some reason, it felt odd to him receiving the same treatment though you had been doing it for years. You alone felt almost unreal sometimes to him. Like a dream.

But then you whispered one word, one single word that caused him to break. 

“Please?”

It didn’t matter when or how the word was used, but you and Daryl both knew that if you used that word to coax him into something he was prepared to deny, he would always fall apart instead. You had a certain effect on him that he still couldn’t quite describe.

So with that, he sighed heavily as he felt himself sniffle again, “Alright.” he agreed.

You smiled softly and gently grabbed one of his hands to place a kiss on the back of it, “Good. Head on upstairs and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” you promised.

His face broke out into a lopsided grin when he looked down at you, feeling a bit hazy from the illness he seemed to catch, his knees feeling weaker the longer he stood upright. Yet he still couldn’t help but smile at how unbelievably lucky he had gotten with you.

“Yes ma’am.” he eventually spoke, breaking away from you to slowly head up the long and dreaded staircase, preparing to head for the shower as you suggested.

You on the other hand went straight towards the kitchen, picking through the medicine cupboard before finding the right pill bottle to take up with you. After setting it down on the counter, you grabbed a larger pot and placed it over the stovetop, before rummaging around through the kitchen for ingredients. You planned to make him some chicken soup, one of his favorites when the weather got colder. He could probably inhale three bowls if given the chance.

You cut up the fresh vegetables along with the chicken, adding it all into the pot filled with broth to cook before adding the many noodles as well. You seasoned everything thoroughly and made sure to keep stirring it so it would be perfect, knowing he was probably starving from not only coming back from the long run, but from the sickness he picked up along the way. But once everything was done you placed it all on a tray to take up to your shared bedroom, even adding some water and crackers off to the side.

Stepping up the stairs slowly and carefully, you didn’t hear the water running and only assumed he was done by now as you entered the space carefully. And there he was lying in bed, his eyes closed until he heard the faintness of your movements, peaking them open again and seeing the amount of things you had brought up. It was written all over his face that he thought you did too much, but upon smelling the soup you continued to carry, he said nothing as if he suddenly remembered how hungry he really was.

He licked his lips as he eyed the tray, “Whatcha got?” he asked.

You laughed a little to yourself as you placed it down on his bedside table, “Well, the tylenol is for your fever, and the chicken soup is…for your soul.” you said proudly as you handed him the pill bottle first to take.

He huffed out a laugh, “Smells good.” he complimented as he took the medicine you provided for him along with a swig of water to wash them down.

You sat yourself at the edge of the bed, “Did the shower help at all?” you asked as you raised your hand again towards his forehead, still feeling very hot just as last time.

“A little.” he shrugged, “Still kinda warm though.”

You nodded to yourself as you noticed he was shirtless, the blankets wrapped only around his legs as the rest of him was exposed to the colder air. But you then got another idea that would help, telling him to wait momentarily before you trailed off back to the bathroom. You grabbed a washcloth out of the closet tucked away in the corner before running the material under some cool water, bringing it back to gently place on his forehead.

He sighed at the feeling as his eyes temporarily closed again, only opening once more to look towards you and the things you brought, “Ya did too much.” he commented quietly.

You tilted your head at him, “No I didn’t.” you insisted, “In fact, I didn’t do nearly enough. I want to take care of you, I always do. Please just let me from time to time…okay?”

His tired eyes stared at you for a long moment, before he was slowly nodding his head in agreement, “Okay.”

A smile was brought to your face knowing that it was getting to be easier for him to accept the help, before it was replaced with a teasing smirk as you eyed the soup he had yet to touch. “You want me to feed you?” you joked.

He scoffed, “Nah. Then ya would be doin too much.” he said before leaning over and grabbing the bowl himself.

You laughed a little before nodding your head, “Well, is there anything else you need? Anything at all?” 

He didn’t hesitate as he spoke his next words clearly, “Just you…can ya stay with me?” he asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.

But he did, he knew the answer quite well. Though a part of him just wanted that last bit of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave his side, wanting to hear you say it.

“Of course.” you promised sweetly, leaning over the smallest bit to place a kiss on top of his head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead imagine #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd

[tgmsunmontue]

It's all academic darlin' PART 4/10

We have a final count for parts! 16k+ Hangster AU. IceMav is only really in Part 4 as background (and again in part 9 maybe?) Will be finished by 14th January 2024.

SUMMARY: Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

PART 4

                The only downside of getting picked up by Mav is that he doesn’t get to go straight home. He’s used to it though. His apartment will be stuffy after being closed up for nearly three weeks. Although he knows Kezia will have been around diligently ensuring all his house plants remain alive and well. She does it when he’s at home, knowing that Bradley only needs to look at some of the plants sideways before they decide to shrivel up and die. Doesn’t stop people giving him plants as gifts though. He’s past the point of no return, people assuming he likes them because he has them, and since he relegated their care to Kezia he doesn’t mind them. The plants and himself will survive a couple more hours.

                Something smells good when he gets out of the car, and his mouth floods with saliva. Ice started cooking more when he was stressed, much to Bradley’s benefit when he was growing up because Mav lives on food he can defrost or re-heat. Ice is the one who taught him how to cook, one of the life skills he’s most grateful for. He unlaces his boots and lines them against the wall, respects the tidiness and order that Ice likes; even if Bradley leaves his shoes lying wherever he leaves them once he’s kicked them off in his own apartment. He calls out a hello and heads through to the kitchen, Mav trailing after him.

                Ice gives him a smile and a one-armed hug, other hand busy stirring something on the stove Bradley identifies as a risotto. He grabs two beers out of the fridge, pops the caps and watches as Mav sticks his finger in the risotto, complains about it being hot and crunchy and Ice makes a pained face before he pushes Mav out of the kitchen, signing that he’ll join them shortly. It’s warm out so they head to the back patio, and Bradley can see Ice preparing other things and he had to admit he loves the tradition of their welcome home meal.

                It had started when Mav would get home from deployment. When he was older, Bradley would cook when Ice got back from being away. Then Ice would cook when Bradley got back; even when he hasn’t even left the country, the fact that whenever he goes away somewhere for more than a couple of nights, he comes home to Ice’s cooking and Mav wanting a full debrief of his time away. He settles into one of the loungers and takes a sip of beer, waits for Mav to start in on the questions he no doubt has.

                “So, what did you think of Hangman?” Mav asks, and Bradley frowns, because he has no idea what Mav is talking about. “Jake,” Mav provides and Bradley supposes he should have guessed, although he’d love to know the story behind that callsign.

                “Oh. Nice enough I guess? Polite?”

                “Jake Seresin was polite?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Really?”

                “Why do you seem upset about that? What?  Did you want him to be mean to me?”

                “Well, you do like them with a little, uh, fire.”

                Bradley chokes on the mouthful of beer and stares. What the actual fuck?

                “Dad! Fuck’s sake! Did you try and organize a…” his mind scrambles. “A date?” He finally settles on. Booty call sounds ancient, and hook up when his father figure organized it… not great either. Mav looks pleased, the way he always does when Bradley calls him Dad. He’s shaking his head though.

                “No. Not intentionally. I didn’t think your paths would cross as much as they did. Thought you’d be back before he got there actually. Took him long enough to accept my offer. He… hmm.”

                Bradley’s used to sentences trailing away, often when Mav realizes he’s about to say something he either shouldn’t or made a connection between two or more salient points and his mind is now off on a tangent somewhere else. If he’s a little patient it comes back soon enough.

                “Hangman seems like your type.”

                Bradley snorts and shakes his head.

                “Well, I don’t think I’m his. He didn’t even give me a once over.” Or offer up his number when Bradley sort-of suggested he get his contact details from Mav. It’s fine really, he’s not looking for anything right now, quite happy with the status quo. He has people who can scratch his itch if it comes down to it.

                “Hmm. That doesn’t sound like him at all. I always got the impression that everyone is his type. Alive and breathing. And you cooked him breakfast.”

                “Oh wow, thanks for that ego boost right there… alive and breathing. Biggest compliment. And I was just trying to get rid of the leftovers.”

                Mav laughs and shakes his head, takes a sip from his bottle.

                “You always make breakfast when you’re trying to impress someone.”

                “Seriously, I was trying to use the food. I didn’t feel any need to impress Jake.”

                “I’m sure he was impressed anyway, pretty sure I heard that he managed to set fire to ramen.”

                Bradley frowns, because that doesn’t gel at all with the guy who had made bread from scratch, in an unfamiliar kitchen with no yeast… Huh. Interesting.

                “He told me he knew how to cook…” Bradley says, taking a small sip, his mind still wondering what kind of persona Jake Seresin portrays to other people if Mav is surprised he was polite and can’t cook. A jackass that is usually incompetent in the kitchen? He’s used to naval aviators and their egos

                “Well, if the cabin burns down I guess we’ll find out who’s right.”

                Bradley rolls his eyes and simply shrugs, is pretty sure there’s no danger of that happening.

                “Not that it matters, because we didn’t exchange contact details. But I’m guessing he has your seal of approval…”

                Mav hums non-committedly and Bradley resists rolling his eyes this time. The muscles in his eye sockets need a break.

                “He saved my life.”

                “What?” Bradley hates hearing about it, knows Mav is safe and sound right in front of him, but the almost flippant way he says saved my life like it isn’t something someone would ever consider saving makes his heart hurt in the worst way.

                “My last ever mission, and you don’t know this, but he disobeyed direct orders and came after me.”

                “Jesus Mav…” His throat is tight and eyes prickle.

                “Yep.”

                The mood is immediately somber and he casts around for something, anything, to lighten the mood, because doing this whole emotion thing isn’t something they ever linger on.

                “So, what, you wanted me to give him a thank you BJ?”

                Ice comes out, fingers snapping to get their attention and they both turn.

                “Who is getting thankyou blowjobs?”Ice asks and Bradley wishes the sign for blowjob were a little less visually descriptive. He really doesn’t need the mental image, although at least he’s no longer thinking about Mav dying.

                “No one!” Bradley groans.

                “Nothing wrong with your hearing is there…” Mav grins, eyes crinkled warm and tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth and Bradley has seen this look too many times now to know his parental figures are now making eyes at each other over the top of his head. He turns away so they can have some privacy and he doesn’t need to see any more explicit signs. Ice clicks his fingers again and he looks back, his expression one of clear forbearance but all Ice does is smirk at him. Asshole.

                “Dinner’s ready. Come eat.”

                They settle at the table and Bradley lets the flow of conversation travel around him, chiming in when needed, half-follows the conversation about something Ice is doing with work. Dinner is a delicate zucchini and garlic risotto with grilled chicken thighs and a side-salad, pretty low-key except for the risotto. He answers questions about the smoker he’d fixed up so that Ice can use it next time he actually uses his vacation days and catches fish. Mav hassles him about it never happening before and Bradley enjoys being back in the familiar home with them bickering with one another.

                “You also work too much,” Mav says, turning to him and Bradley looks to Ice for backup.

                “Hello pot, I’d like you to meet kettle. Anyway, I just had ten days at the cabin. That’s plenty restful.”

                Ice is shaking silently with amusement and Bradley points to him.

                “See, Ice agrees. You’re the biggest hypocrite.”

                “That ten days was meant to be three weeks.”

                “You’ve been retired for months. You need a hobby,” Ice says, adding some signs for breaking things and that always fucking means Bradley’s on the ropes for fixing them and he pulls a face, shaking his head and giving Ice a betrayed look.

                “Meddling with Bradley’s love life is my new hobby.”

                “The fuck it is. No. Pick a different hobby.”

                “He could look after your plants…” Ice interjects, his sign for plants though is dead plants and Bradley pulls another face and gives him the finger which just makes him laugh roughly, making the sign for apple and tree before laughing again. He’s glad someone is enjoying themselves.

                “Why do I have to be involved at all? What about another fixer-upper? Bike or plane?” Ice pulls a face and slaps his arm. “Model planes? That’d be more affordable. And take up less space?”

                “And boring as hell.”

                “Learn to cook!”

                “No!” Ice actually says, voice low and rough, the look of sheer horror on his face makes Bradley snort.

                “Mav cooking is exciting at least!”

                “Waste of good ingredients,” Ice signs, mouth pulled down in displeasure now that said hobbies are encroaching on his territory. Fuck, they’re going to have to come up with something together otherwise Mav will annoy the shit out of them both. Maybe his love life is the safest, he’s had plenty of practice in ignoring Mav at least.

                “Hey, I could learn to cook! I’m sure you could both teach me…” Bradley winces, because trying to teach Mav anything is painful and Ice seems to agree, hands flashing quickly with cannot teach, pushing his chair back and shaking his head before walking away while Mav blusters and says he’s perfectly capable of taking direction. Bradley snorts because that’s a load of bullshit and he finds himself making that sign automatically.

                “Giving me the bird while you walk away doesn’t count as getting the final word in!” Mav calls at Ice’s retreating back, before turning to Bradley. “I could learn to cook you know, if I put my mind to it.”

                “Mav, we all have our personal strengths and weaknesses…”

                Mav’s eyes narrow and Bradley smirks, because it’s exactly a line that Mav has given him more than once when he’s struggled with not being good at something.

                “Also Ice and I both enjoy cooking. You view it as a chore.”

                “I do worry about you though, your work…”

                Bradley sighs, pushes his empty plate away and rubs at his temple.

                “Mav… my job is safe. Imagine how you’d feel if I had joined the Navy and went on deployment for months on end?”

                “You went and lived in Europe for three years!”

                “To do my doctorate. And now I’m back and have been for over a decade. Mav, I’m… I love my job okay? You love flying, and Ice… and I get that you want me to have what you have with Ice. But I’m okay. I’m happy. I have plenty of friends, and while I get it might be nice to have someone at home, I don’t need that to be happy. Also I actually really enjoy the novelty of not feeling guilty for not ignoring my partner because of work,” he states, because that is what had been the demise of his last relationship and Mav fucking knows it too.

                “Do you think it would be different with the right person though?”

                “Oh for… please don’t start. Look, if something happens, it happens. But it’s not a priority for me right now.”

                “I was just hoping for grandkids…”

                “Bullshit. You’ve got plenty of young people in your life. And I don’t want kids. You know that. Amelia scares the shit out of me and I have to work with too many teenagers as it is already.”

                “Yeah, you’re lucky you survived your teen years. Ice and I held each other back from killing you on multiple occasions.”

                “Sure Mav…”

                “Why do you always think I’m lying when I say that?”

PART FIVE

#Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #It's all academic darlin' #IceMav

[glitchhghoul]

The Stacks

You and Copia enjoy some alone time in the library ;)

Copia x Reader SMUT 18+, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, no use of feminine pronouns or use of y/n, around 1,900 words

AO3 Link

You work in the abbey library, spending most of your time organizing, re-shelving, and reading amongst the stacks. The only downside to this job is the fact that the library can be very slow at times; leaving you on your own on very many occasions. However, that is often taken advantage of by you and your very handsy Papa.

So here you find yourself on one of your many slow days, a book in hand, tucked away in one of the corners of the library stacks. Engrossed in the book you are reading, you fail to hear Copia enter the library and make his way to your little nook. The sound of someone clearing their throat rips your attention away from the book, startling you.

“Lucifer! Copia you scared me!” You huffed, pouting at him.

“I am sorry amore! I came looking for you, I figured you would be in here after not showing up for dinner!” He teased, taking a seat next to you.

“Shit, I didn’t even realize what time it was! I have to get back to shelving these before we close up for the day.” You hadn’t realized how much time had passed since you sat down to read.

“But…” He started.

“No buts! The faster I get this done the faster we can leave, okay?” You put your book down and make your way to the return pile of books at the front desk. You check the clock and you still have about an hour before closing, more than enough time to shelve these.

“If you want this to go faster, maybe you could hold these for me?” You tease, handing him the stack of books.

“Of course! Especially if it helps me get you out of here faster.” He says with a wink.

You shove him playfully and motion for him to follow you. Leading him through the stacks, you begin to shelve books. Unbeknownst to you, however, Copia has other plans. While you are occupied with a few books, he sets the rest of his pile down and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You know, I have a few more… lively activities I think we could participate in.” He whispers, pawing at your hips.

You squeak, nearly dropping the book you’re trying to shelve, “Copia! Not right now! I still have to finish shelving these or my boss is going to be pissed.” You try and swat his hand away, but he playfully whispers, “Well, if your boss has any problems, they can come and report to your Papa.” You feel him smirk against your skin as he starts to place kisses on your neck.

“If we get caught though, it is your fault.” You smile, putting the book you are holding on the cart.

“I can’t imagine anyone coming in so close to closing time, Now why don’t we get back to the more important matters at hand, Tesoro.” He smirks.

“Well, let’s at least find a more comfortable spot” You reply, giggling.

You lead him to another row of books, one with a small desk attached to the stacks, you hop up on one of the desks and motion for him to come to you. He watches you with predatory eyes as he comes to slot his body against yours, his lips finding their way to your neck again.

“Mmmm.” You moan, your head falling to rest against the shelf of books. His hands are on your hips, “So good for me..” He whispers against your skin, his hands trailing up to your waist to hold you tighter against him. Your thigh slides between his legs and gently presses up into his hardening length, causing him to shudder and gasp. He sighs, rutting against your thigh lazily. One of his hands slips under the hem of your habit, caressing the soft skin underneath. His teeth nip at your neck, causing you to gasp and moan loudly as he continues to kiss a path down your neck and towards your chest. You press yourself against his body, one of your hands finding its way between you two as you begin to palm his hardening cock through his pants. Your hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt urging him to take it off. He takes the hint, pulling away from you for only a second before his hands are on you again and his lips are meeting yours for a passionate kiss.

His hands are tugging at your habit, bunching it around your waist as he now caresses your thighs and you gasp into the kiss. One of his hands wanders under your habit and up to your bra before tugging it down. He gropes at your breasts and you moan into the kiss. You can feel how wet you’ve become and you squirm and gasp under his touch. Your hands skirt across his chest and down his sides. You playfully grab at his ass and giggle; he yelps, pulling away to laugh with you.

“You’re too frisky for your own good, you know that, amore?”

“You like it!” You reply with a wink. His hands grab at your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the desk.

“Now, back to what I had planned for you.” He says, sinking to his knees in front of you, and pushing your legs apart.

His hands push your skirt up and around your hips and his eyes land on the damp spot on your panties. You squirm under his gaze, as he then begins to kiss up your thighs, hovering over your wet panties.

“Always so eager, amore.” He whispers, caressing the damp spot, before pushing the fabric to the side and licking from your wet entrance to your clit, eliciting a high-pitched moan.

He begins to devour you; licking and sucking your sensitive bud before traveling back to your dripping entrance, spreading you open with one hand before diving back in, his nose bumping against your clit as he fucks you open with his tongue. Your hands tangle in his hair, gripping and pulling him closer to you as you grind yourself on his face. Copia hums in response, invoking more whimpers and groans from you.

“Fuck, Copia-”, your soft moans echo through the stacks. His hands grip you harder, pulling your cunt further into his greedy mouth. The familiar feeling of pleasure pools in your lower abdomen and your head swims in ecstasy. He devours you with a fervor, one of his hands sneaks between your legs and he slowly coaxes two gloved fingers inside of you, curling and massaging that spongy spot that makes you see stars. The other hand moves to palm himself through his pants as he groans.

Copia lifts his head, “That’s it amore, let your Papa make you feel good.” He continues to lick and suck at your sensitive cunt, leather-clad fingers prodding deep inside your aching hole. Your hands grip his hair tighter as you near your end, causing him to moan against you.

You’re so close, you can feel the way you tighten around his fingers. A few more strokes of his gloved fingers inside you and his warm mouth on your clit and you’re tumbling over the edge. Your hips rock against his face as you pull him closer by the hair. “That’s it, brava ragazza.” Copia says, nipping at your thigh and removing his gloved fingers from you before bringing them to his lips to clean them. You whimper at the sight of him, his paints smeared around his face and his hair is a mess, but the look he is giving you tells you you’re still in for quite the ride.

“Oh cara, look at what you do to your Papa,” Copia says, motioning to his hard cock straining against the laces in his pants. The look in his eyes is fierce and it sends a shiver down your spine, “Papa, please, I need you,” you whine, watching as he reacts to the use of his title. You reach out for him, untangling the laces on his pants as quickly as your shaky hands will let you.

Copia groans as his cock finally springs free from the tight grip of his pants; it’s an angry red and leaking at the tip, and you can’t help but moan at the sight of him. His arms cage you against the desk as he rolls his cock through your slick folds. Your hips buck up into his as he bumps your clit, still sensitive from the way his mouth had made you cum.

“Così ansioso per il tuo Papa.” Copia moans, continuously slicking his cock through the folds of your wet cunt. “Beg for it, Suora, beg for your Papa’s cock.”

You whimper, “Please Copia, I need your cock, ple-” and before you can finish he is lining himself up with your entrance and is sinking to the hilt in one, smooth thrust. He takes a moment, watching your back arch off the desk and your legs wrap impossibly tighter around him as you stare up at him with big doe-eyes and an open mouth.

“Look at you, so beautiful underneath me,” Copia says, as he finally pulls his hips back and begins to thrust into you slowly. You groan, relishing in the feeling of his cock bumping against the sensitive spots inside you. You claw at his back and beg him to go faster, “Please, I want to cum on your cock!” Writhing beneath him from the pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that amore.” Copia groans, feeling you tighten and flutter around him, his hips slapping against your skin creating the filthiest noises to echo throughout the library. You can feel yourself getting closer with each thrust, his cock is hitting your sweet spot over and over. Copia moans into your shoulder, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of your wet heat wrapped around him.

The familiar mounting pleasure in your abdomen starts to build, “Copia, Papa, please I need to cum!” You beg for him, shaky legs wrapped around his hips as he begins to falter as well. One of his hands slips between your bodies as he presses and grinds his gloved fingers against your clit. You shudder and gasp, tightening around his cock with a loud, drawn-out moan.

“Careful, we-” He groans, “We wouldn’t want some unsuspecting siblings to come checking out the noise.” You can’t even respond to him with anything other than a loud, unabashed moan as you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

Finally, the cord in your lower abdomen snaps, gloved fingers playing with your clit as you squirt and leak all over his cock. “Oh, you feel so good cumming around me!” Copia whimpers, chasing his release as his hips finally stutter, warm ropes of cum filling your aching cunt.

You both look at each other, hair disheveled, covered in sweat and papal paints, and yet he still looks down at you with the goofiest, post-sex smile, “You’re always so beautiful underneath me.” He says, caressing your cheek as he starts to gently pull out of you.

You can feel his cum leaking out of you and onto your thighs, and you smile up at him, “You know, you’re lucky no one caught us.” You tease, leaning up to kiss him, gently this time.

After a few moments embracing each other and cleaning up as best as you can, you both can retire to his room for the evening, “Do you have anything else planned? I know that look in your eyes.” Copia chuckles, “Maybe if you’re still good by the end of the night, Papa can give you a reward, si?” It’s your turn to giggle now, but at least the night is far from over.

#copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus x reader #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost #the band ghost smut #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv smut #cardinal copia x reader #ghost band #ghost bc x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader

[softie-rain]

Pretty Boy

pairing: Sejanus Plinth/Coriolanus Snow

warnings: smoking (don't do it guys it's bad for your lungs) - mild smut - lots of fluff

notes: this is a modern au where Coryo and Sej are both in University! I wrote it in like an hour but I really like it, posted it on ao3 and felt like tumblr should be blessed with it as well. Not romanticising smoking! read it on ao3 here

Sejanus’ hold on Coriolanus’ hand tightened as they ran on the train tracks. He squeezed his eyes trying to see better in the darkness of the night, the only light was the moon shining bright and white in the sky. 

If he turned his head he could still see the faint illumination of the street lights, though they were so far away they looked like stars in the distance. He looked down at his feet, careful not to trip and fall. He observed their shoes, Sej's converse in contrast with Coryo's ruined vans, looking so used Sejanus wondered how on earth they didn't break yet (though he was pretty sure if he kept running like that they were going to).

Coriolanus finally came to a stop when they reached the abandoned goods wagons, jumping on one that looked particularly rusted. Sometimes Sejanus thought he picked them old and rusty on purpose, to try to guess how many different diseases they could catch on them.

Once they were both on it Coriolanus took out two cigarettes, offering Sejanus one and putting the other one between his lips. After he offered the cigarette Coryo took out his lighter and lit up his own, taking a long drag, and breathing out the smokey air in the cold autumn night.

Sejanus asked him for the lighter but he shook his head, telling him to put the cigarette between his lips. Although confused Sejanus did as told and Coriolanus leaned in, using his cigarette to light up Sejanus’. The boy blushed, trying to act as if he wasn't turned on by the action. 

Coriolanus noticed and smirked, kissing his cheek. He went to  sit on some old boxes that were lying in the corner, taking another drag and motioning for Sejanus to join him. He grinned and sat between his legs, leaning against his chest. “For once you're shorter than me” Coriolanus whispered in his ear, making him giggle.

“We're sitting.”

Coriolanus hummed and blew smoke in Sejanus’ face, making him cough. “You're such a dick.” 

“I mean isn't that why you love me?” He teased, giving him a downsided kiss. Sejanus bit his bottom lip trying not to smile and scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes. 

He looked down at his cigarette, taking a drag and letting the nicotine take over his senses and making him relax immediately, melting in Coriolanus’ arms. Sejanus closed his eyes and suddenly started laughing, taking Coriolanus hand in his.

“What's so funny?” He asked, kissing his boyfriend's forehead. Sejanus smiled.

“Ma’ would kill me if she knew I was smoking on an abandoned railroad with you.” 

Coriolanus scoffed. “I’m sure you would have found a way out of it, your mother loves me.”

“Exactly. And if she discovered that you weren’t so lovable, she'd forbid me from seeing you. Especially if she knew you got his perfectly well behaved son into smoking, and probably start hating you for corrupting his sweet child.” Sejanus said gesturing to his cigarette and doing a bad impression of his mom. At least it got Coriolanus to laugh.

“I put my dick up your ass almost every day at your house, most of the time when she's right downstairs. Smoking would be the last of her worries if she knew.”

“Your dick doesn't diminish my life expectancy.”

Coriolanus shrugged, taking another drag. They both dropped the conversation and just sat there, in silence, enjoying each other's company. Coryo gently rubbed Sejanus’ hand, drawing circles on it with his thumb, sending shivers down his spine. He lived for these sweet moments he and Coriolanus shared, when it was only the two of them, alone, no one to watch or judge them.

“You know what your ma’ would also be shocked by?” 

Sejanus threw his now consumed cigarette to the floor and shook his head, looking up at Coryo. “You giving me a blowjob in an abandoned goods wagon.” 

Sejanus rolled his eyes and turned around, standing on his knees, so that he was now fully facing him. “You're a pervert. And also gross, I'm not sucking your dick here.” 

Coriolanus pouted, “Why not?”

“Because it's gross!” 

Coriolanus joined his hands as to pray him for it, pout even more evident on his face. “At least a handjob? That way you can also kiss me which, honestly, makes it even better.” He said, leaning in to give Sejanus a long, deep kiss. 

He pulled away with one last short kiss but didn't move away, leaning on his boyfriend's forehead. “Please?” He asked again, his tone low, barely above a whisper.

Sejanus sighed, shaking his head. “You're a little shit, you know that?” 

Coriolanus grinned. “That's why you love me.” He whispered, letting his cigarette fall on the floor.

Sejanus raised an eyebrow, “I thought it was because you were a dick.” 

“That too. Which would also be the reason why you should love sucking me off.”

It took Sejanus a second to get a joke. If they were at his house Sejanus would have probably thrown a pillow at him, but instead he just stared at Coriolanus clearly not amused, while his boyfriend was having the time of his life- if his wide smile was a hint of it. 

He scoffed, leaning away and sitting on the floor. “Is there at least one positive thing that I love about you then?” 

Coriolanus seemed to think about it, tapping his chin with his finger and looking up to search for the answer. “Okay: answer a, I’m a walking green flag-” He was interrupted by Sejanus snorting, trying to hold in the laugh that was erupting from his throat. He coughed trying to cover it up when he noticed the glare Coriolanus was sending him. 

“Ahem. Sorry. You were saying?” 

“Answer b,” Coriolanus continued, “you love the way I look.” He smirked proudly, looking away. 

Sejanus bit the inside of his cheek, checking Coriolanus out. “Alright, you may be onto something here.” He admitted.

Coriolanus turned around again with a wide grin on his features. “Of course I am. I’ll have you remember that you fell first, my darling boy.”

Both out of boldness and frustration Sejanus grabbed Coriolanus by the jacket and brought him down with him. In response the boy yelped in surprise, as he landed on top of his boyfriend. 

“And you fell harder.” Sejanus whispered. Feeling the other’s boner pressing against his tight, he grinned. “You're hard, Coriolanus Snow.”

Coriolanus shrugged, playing it off cool. “You tend to have that effect on me, yes.” Sej scoffed, kissing his nose.

“That's gay.” Sejanus commented.

“And that's homophobic.” 

Sejanus laughed, followed shortly after by Coriolanus. “Think you've earned that handjob, babe. For being so good looking.” He said, already starting to unzip Coriolanus’ pants.

Coriolanus sighed when he finally felt Sejanus’ hand on him, closing his eyes as he let out small whines in pleasure. Sometimes Sejanus wondered how this could be his life. He remembered when just two years ago he could only dream of simply kissing his crush, and now he was pumping his dick on an old train while his mother thought he was studying in the University's library. 

Coriolanus changed him, that was for sure. He still questioned if that change had happened for bad or for good, but most of the time he didn't care. The time he spent with Coriolanus was what he looked forward to all day, everyday. He doubted that even if his ma’ was to ever find out about what he did, that would stop from seeing Coriolanus. 

Without Coriolanus he probably wouldn't have started smoking, and maybe he would still be a virgin. Maybe he'd spend more time focusing on his studying and not hanging out in the park, their favorite place to have deep discussions about life- and more often than not to make out. 

And as he drew Coriolanus into a kiss, swallowing the loud moan he made as he came, he knew he wouldn't change his current life for anything else in the world. 

“I love you.” Coriolanus breathed out, panting as he came down his high. 

Sejanus chuckled, giving him a peck on the lips. “I love you too.” 

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #josh andres rivera #sejanus plinth #sejanus x coriolanus #snowjanus #snowplinth #coriolanus x sejanus #fanfic #the hunger games

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 3

You’re a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

Big pieces starting to fall into place, people. Keep with me :] The images I am including are the backdrops for the chapters, enjoy!

2.8K Word Count

Ch 3: All This Money And This Pain Got Me Heartless

It was around 2 in the morning before you got home. The perk to your dream home? It wasn’t near anyone,  and you could be alone with your thoughts. The downside? It was in the middle of nowhere- in a ski town in Idaho. It was nowhere near convenient to just “visit,” which was the point. That’s the other reason to why you kept the apartment close to work, only about a 45 minute drive in traffic, versus this 14 hour commute, or 2 hour flight. You groaned as you parked the Porsche in the garage, its designated spot between some of your other cars.

You dragged yourself away from the plush interior, popping open the rear lift gate and grabbing your bag, flinging its strap back over your shoulder, and slamming the gate closed. You walked towards the door that would lead you onto the skyway over a creek that ran alongside your house. You locked the car, turning to look over all the vehicles housed in you garage, some in varying states of repair, before you shut off the light and walked across the bridge towards your house. You flung the door open, throwing the bag on your shoulder off to the side of the laundry room you just entered. Removing your brown dress shoes, you opened the door into the living area of the house, walking over to the couch and allowing your body to fall forwards onto the plush couch. You lifted your arm, feeling across the coffee table blindly for the remote to your fireplace. “Mmmpfh…where the hell?” You felt around further, slamming your hand harder and harder on the table until you lift your head to face the table, scanning it for the remote. You notice it, across the living room, on the chair closest to the fireplace. “MMMphfffuck!” You grunt into the couch cushion, giving up on the fireplace, and grabbing the blanket off the back of the sofa, pulling it over you and hoping for a decent amount of sleep. 

You awoke to the sound of your phone vibrating on your coffee table, groaning and grabbing the pillow underneath your head, pressing it against your face. You hoped that by ignoring it, you wouldn’t hear it anymore. Thankfully the phone quit ringing, and you ripped the pillow from your face. Your peace was short lived as it began ringing again. “Unngh why didn’t I shut that fucking thing off!” You yell at yourself as you slam your hand on top of your phone, picking it up and answering it blindly. 

“What?! This better be fucking good!” You spit so much venom into the phone you’re sure the soul on the other end might end up poisoned. 

“Good morning to you too.” An unfamiliar voice rasps back. You pull the phone away from your ear to glance at the screen, wondering who you were speaking to. The number was a New York number, but you didn’t know anyone who lived there. 

“Who the hell is this, and how’d you get this number?” You make sure to let whomever is on the other line that you do not appreciate the disruption. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot that they didn’t give you my number yesterday. It’s Scarlett. I hope you don’t mind, but I had some things I wanted to ask you about.”

“How’d you get my number?” You asked again, still not getting the complete answer that you wanted. You had a feeling you already knew the answer. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was an issue…” You cut her off before she could continue.

“I give my number out. No one else does. Who gave you my number? I’m not going to ask again.”  You sat up on the couch, the blanket falling from your shoulders to your lap. That’s when you looked down and realized you were still in your work clothes. 

“Kris. She gave me your number in case I needed to reach you. I’m sorry I bothered you, I'll just send out an email.” The voice rasped back, but you could detect a tone of disappointment. She hung up before you could respond back. “Yeah, do that.” You thought as you went to your favorite contacts and dialed your assistant. 

“Do you know how to NOT work?” She asked, unaware of what was about to happen. 

“You KNOW the rules, you of ALL fucking people know how I feel when they get broken!” You’re seething on the phone at your assistant. 

“And you know damn well that I will NOT stay on the phone if you talk to me like that. Chill the fuck out.” Her tone changed to match yours. She was never afraid of going toe to toe with you. “Scarlett called, I take it?” She asks pointedly. 

“Why- whywhywhy…did you give her my personal number? You know better!” You try to calm yourself and work your way through what is happening. 

“Well, to be blunt- she begged for it. ” Kris deadpans. “Plus with how you were oogling her yesterday, you can thank me later.” You could hear the tone of her voice, you recognized it from when she would push you to flirt with someone. She always acted as a wingman for you, it was one of the many feathers in her imaginary cap.

“You know how I- wait, what? She asked for it?” You quirked, not expecting that response. You try and picture how that conversation went with Scarlett and Kris, and what had to have been said to get Kris to fork over your number. 

“Ha. I knew that’d get your attention. She begged me for your number, arguing that if you will be at her house heading up security and blah blah blah, she’d need a more direct way to get a hold of you.” You could hear the sarcasm in her voice, knowing that she wasn’t being entirely truthful. 

“Watch it, Smithers. You better not piss me off any more- I don’t want to come back to the city.” You throw your nickname for her in there for good measure. 

“Oh no. What ever will I do?” She deadpans once more. “I found out what was going on with that weirdo you sent me. Just know I’ve got some juice regarding him, but it will have to wait till you're back at work.” She teases, knowing full well it’ll only egg you on. 

“No, don’t make me log on from here and see what the hell was up with that guy. Spill it Smith.” You state, standing up from the couch, walking to the kitchen to make some coffee. Clearly, you weren’t going to get any more sleep at this point. 

“No. And I also blocked your proxy from the cabin. You can’t log in right now. Relax, we’ve got it handled, mmmmkaybyeeeee!” She hangs up, leaving you to stare at the screen in protest before grumbling to yourself, shutting off the device and throwing it on the charger. You walked upstairs while your coffee is brewing, so you can get yourself out of the work clothes from yesterday.  You groaned as you glanced at the clock on your nightstand, seeing that it was only 6:30am. “Goddamn, do these people sleep?” You ask yourself, before realizing that you were up at the exact same time as them. You shuffled towards your bed, flopping onto it briefly, before pushing yourself up off of it, going over to the closet, and debating on what to wear for the day. You figured you should go down and work out for a little bit, so you grabbed a pair of dark green workout shorts and a black sports bra. You walked out of the closet, towards the staircase, heading towards the kitchen to grab your coffee, opting to drink it straight, and grabbing your protein and adding some water to it, heading towards your  home gym. You started stretching as you stalked into the gym, getting yourself ready for some weight training and boxing practice. 

After an hour of weights and another hour of beating your frustrations into a punching bag, you grabbed the towel next to you, wiping your brow before throwing it into a laundry basket in the corner, walking away towards the kitchen to check your phone. You grabbed it as you approached the counter, turning the phone on. You set it down, checking your fridge for something for breakfast. “Fuck.” You muttered to yourself. You were out of almost everything, only having creamer for coffee and a few beers, some condiments and other odds and ends. Walking back to the counter your phone was on, you peeked at some of the notifications that had popped up while it was off and charging.  A few texts were buried in all the notifications, but you didn’t see them, and assumed nothing crazy was going on.

You threw the phone back down before going up to shower,  ready to begin the day. As you walked away, your phone buzzed away on the counter, with a few texts from Kris and Paul. 

8:15AM  PAUL- “Y/N. Scarlett has made some changes to the plans. Boss-man needs you here asap to go over them.”

8:20AM.  PAUL- “Y/N. Let me know when you can get here. I know we told you to take some time, but we need you to go over some things, and they cannot wait. We need you here in person.”

8:37AM   KRIS- “I know your phone isn’t off, you better not be ignoring us. You’re too much of a control freak to shut off your phone.”

8:45AM.   PAUL- “Y/N. LET ME KNOW ASAP.”

9:02AM   KRIS- “Y/N. It’s not like you to not answer. With wierdo lurking outside your place and you not answering- it makes me nervous. Call me. ”

You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a  towel off the rack and quickly drying yourself off, before walking over to the sink, and staring at yourself while leaning on the counter. You stood up, rubbing your face with your hands, before throwing the damp towel into a basket by the door. You walked out of the bathroom and towards your closet, thinking of what you needed to do today. “You really don’t need to do anything, Y/N…” you thought to yourself, but you sighed, knowing that you would never let yourself not do anything with your day. You opted for a wide cut black v neck tee shirt and some of your necklaces, some dark blue jeans and your black boots, mussing your short hair to give it some texture, as you glanced in the mirror by the door. Grabbing some cologne to dab on your neck, you felt satisfied enough with your appearance to venture into McCall, and get some stuff for you to live off of for a few days. You took a fleeting look at the clock on your microwave was you grabbed you phone and stuffed it into your back pocket, not even looking at the screen.  You grabbed the keys to one of your favorite cars, before turning on your heel towards the garage, so you can head to town. 

As you approached the general store in town, there was a cat call whistled in your direction as you pulled yourself out of the car you chose, and you stared in the direction of the sound, an already excited man walking your way. You looked him up and down, noting his height, he appeared to be 5’ 9”, skinnier build, in his mid to late 40’s. He was vaguely familiar, and smiled as he approached you, waving and lightly jogging towards your location. 

“WOW! That is an amazing machine! What year is it, a 69? Small Block?” He asked, his eyebrow quipped, while wiping his pointer finger along the passenger side of the car, walking around it while he glanced back and forth between you and the car. 

You rolled your eyes, people always made it a point to comment on one of your cars while you were out. If you didn’t love them so much, you’d walk everywhere. “Cobras weren’t made in 69. It's a 67, 427. And fingers off, unless you wanna loose em, bud.” 

“Ford, right?” He asked again, swiping his finger another inch or so along the deep blue paintwork, as if he was testing the waters. He then ran his fingers through his dark brown hair.

“No. Shelby American. Can I help you?” You fired back, clearly showing your annoyance at this man. 

“Whoa, bud. I was just admiring your car! No need to be testy with me.” He approached you on the drivers side, eyeing you up and down, as you stood square to him, with your arms across your chest, clearly showing your muscle. “How’d you score this beauty anyways? These aren’t cheap.” He raised his eyebrow further, a tone as if he was questioning how you were within a 10-foot radius of the car. 

“I’m not you're bud, pal. I have some things I need to do. I would appreciate if you would stop touching my car, and leave me alone.” You state coldly as you turn and begin to walk away. 

“Well, no need to be rude about it, I was just curious.” He said, a smirk flashing across his features as you turned away. You briefly peered over your shoulder, to see him turn and walk the other way. “Fucking weird. What the hell was that??” You walked towards the store, glancing back in the direction of the blue roadster, sitting in a far spot that would surely be surrounded by cars when you came out, but all were currently vacant. 

You grabbed the basics, some milk, eggs, some necessities for sandwiches, and other odds and ends before approaching the cashier. You groaned, noticing that the cashier was the same annoying man from earlier. He had now shed his jacket for a tan apron, with the name “Fred” embroidered onto it. You could now see his bright blue eyes, which were piercing to say the least. Of course, he was the only cashier in this place. You threw your items onto the belt, and stalked up to the register as he lifted a tab to allow the belt to lurch to life, your items rolling towards him. He just looked at you, the same stupid smirk on his face, before he started scanning your things. 

“You still didn’t answer my question. That makes things look highly suspect.” He says, as he continues scanning your groceries. 

“Maybe it's a rude question to which you will get no answer.” You deadpan back, raising your eyebrow as he chuckles. 

“Ok. Whatever.” He says. “$52.66 is your total.” He states, beginning to bag your groceries. “Where are you going to put this in that tiny of a car?” He prodded again. You shake your head at the mans insolence, pulling out your wallet, and handing him a black credit card. He just looks down at it, before looking back at you. He was hesitant to grab the card, which made you instantly gratified. That would surely shut him up. “Th….these don’t have a limit. You can’t just get a black card.” He states, still staring at your outstretched hand. You roll your eyes, before swiping the card for him, and slipping it back into its leather slot. 

“Yup. I’ll take my groceries now. ” You say, popping the “p” and pointing towards your bags. “What, BUD?  Never seen a big boy card before?” You ask, grabbing the bags from behind the counter, and smirking as you left him shocked and frozen in his spot. You simply turned and walked out the door, groaning when you saw everyone parked around you. You approached the passenger side, placing the paper bags full of goods into the footwell where your passengers feet would normally go.

You walked around, opting not to open the drivers door, just hopping over it and sliding in, and depressing the clutch to start the car, smiling as you heard the rumble. You slightly spun the tires as you left the parking lot, darting out onto the main thoroughfare that runs into and out of the heart of town. You looked around as you saw people window shopping, arms linked in one another’s as they grazed up and down the sidewalks. This was a resort town, which was why you made sure to stay out of it as much as possible. Winter was always crazy here, people wanting to come and ski from all over. You approached a 4-way stop, turning right so you can make your way back into the hills, winding around a large lake that was popular for a myriad of water sports in the summer. The leaves were starting to change, signaling natures close to the summer and eventual arrival of the fluffy white stuff you loved so dearly. That was the other reason you wanted to live somewhere like this- the mountains in winter always held a soft spot in your heart.

(CHAPTER 4)

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett johannsen #ILYBOMTJALTM

[charliedawn]

Hello 🤗 do you remember when you made a slasher x asexual reader??, how about this time is aromantic

This is my first request on Tumblr and I hope you have a great day 💕

I mean Jason wouldn't care. A friend is a friend.

He would be happy to have someone sticking around long enough not to run away as soon as he appears.

He would try to respect your wishes and not to frighten you.

He would feel like the confession might be important to you, so he will keep it in mind and not do anything that would feel too personal.

However, if he did have a crush on you.

He would find it difficult to communicate and basically run out of the room when you arrive.

"Not into all the lovey-dovey stuff, heh ? Good for you. And good for me too.."

Pennywise hates physical contact and doesn't like making any effort.

Having an aromantic reader by his side would be to have someone willing to stay with him without making things weird.

Besides, him and Penny cannot technically fall in love. So, you wouldn't have to worry about that.

"Nice."

Penny is a being whose love language is TOUCH.

He can't help it and will try to touch you every chance he gets.

See the problem ? He may eventually try to show you his love with words and make things awkward very quickly..

Penny *giggles and wraps his arms around you* : "I LIKE YOU, HUMAN !"

Yeah..Will try his best to keep his distance though. Better stick around his brother at the beginning though..

"Good for you, kiddo. Believe me when I say love is bullsh*t. You're better without it."

Jack has been married and was basically trapped in the marriage.

He knows all about the downsides of love and would be happy to live without the complications.

At this point, his only love is his bottle of whiskey he keeps around.

Jack *offers you a glass* : "Come on. Let's have a toast on being sick of love. Good riddance."

Five : "Believe me, you won't have to worry about me."

The boy is 100% dedicated to Dolores and reserves all his love for his mannequin.

Besides, Five is usually awkward around people he likes. The fact that you are aromantic would make things far easier for him.

He would be able to talk to you without actually holding back, scared of what you may think of him.

Five : "...and this is how Klaus managed to stuck his hand in the cookie jar and it was only hours later that he admitted it to me and asked me to jump back in time to dissuade him. Can you believe it ? Me ? Telling Klaus not to do something ?" *bursts out laughing*

"Aro...Aromantic...Arrow...What a funny name. You know what it makes me think of ? Tarot without the t's. So, congrats kid, you're a whole card game."

J is open-minded.

As long as you don't say that you're a sympathiser of Batman, he's cool with you being whatever.

Besides, J is not very romantic. He would be if he feels it necessary, but would be as happy without it.

He would also offer you a job and wouldn't have to worry about the "matters of the heart" holding you back or stopping you from doing your job. (like Harley)

Now, Michael is going to be thrown off because he believes in romance. He was a happy family man before his sudden shift to a slasher.

It's because he cares about his family and loves that he can't help seeking them out, even though Myers will probably kill them at the end.

If you're in a relationship, he will feel betrayed by the sudden confession.

However, Myers wouldn't.

Myers *waits a few seconds before writing down* : "Alright. Good."

Michael is the heart and Myers is the knife.

But, the knife can be more understanding than the heart on rare occasions.

Besides, it would be another person he wouldn't worry about killing.

Brahms : "..."

Poor boy wouldn't know what to say.

It means no hugging, no hand holding, no sweet kisses ?

You would very sadly not be his type in a more-than-friends relationship, but he would support you nonetheless and be your friend.

But, you would have to expect some exceptions. He would sometimes hug you out of the blue and tell you things that may make you uncomfortable.

But, don't hold it against him.

It would be difficult for him to accept that you cannot have romantic feelings for anyone, but he would eventually get used to it and accept you nonetheless.

Norman : "Hello Aro, I'm Norm."

Norman would make sure to tell you that it doesn't change a thing.

He likes you. He likes you.

That you're aro or not doesn't matter to him, as long as you are a good friend and a hard worker.

He would support you.

Even though, he could sometimes forget.

Norman comes from an era where romance and good manners were almost worshipped.

His mother forced him to become the perfect gentleman, so he may sometimes act lost or confused around you.

But, give him time. He'll eventually figure it out.

Now that I think about it, Freddy might very well be aromantic.

He does have sexual wants, but he doesn't believe in love.

He believes in casual buddy-buddy sex.

Freddy *smirks* : "I mean..I ain't gonna kick you out because of it. Love is complicated. I understand."

Freddy would 100% go on a date with you and wouldn't make it weird. Congrats. You would hit it off pretty quickly.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #slashers #michael myers x reader #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #freddy krueger x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #j x reader #the joker x reader #jason voorhees x reader #norman bates x reader #jack torrance x reader

[mysticmunson]

from the script, part 2; eddie munson

sooo my dumbass has to repost this bc i forgot to put any tags

prompt: the preachers daughter decides to help eddie munson study shakespeare to take a glance into the life of a normal teenager. but when they become best friends, things become a tad more complicated

part one

word count: 7.5k

warning: like 30 seconds of smut, angst, mentions of trauma, gross men (let me know if i missed anything)

an at the end :)

The walk home from Eddie’s felt fast as you recounted the past few hours, engrossed in the idea of his affection. You wished you would’ve kissed him, but you felt completely obedient to his every move, he was making the rules whether he knew it or not. 

“Hi sweetheart!” Your mom called from the kitchen as you walked in your front door, toeing off your shoes and placing them on the rack. You set your backpack down, approaching the voices in the distance. 

Your mom was slicing some fruit as your dad sat at the table, fiddling with a newspaper. Smiling, you walked past them for the fridge, grabbing a water bottle, and stealing a raspberry from the bowl. 

“How was your day at school, kiddo?” Your father asked, tilting the news away from his face to meet your gaze. Keeping your answer short, you said it was good. You could tell by his face he had something to say, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Good, good. What are you doing tomorrow?” He questioned, your mom smiling at you as you took a sip of water.

“I don’t think anything, just studying, and preparing for Sunday.” You responded, looking forward to your one day off from school and church. The only downside was not having an excuse to see Eddie, but you could live for the weekends.

Your father cleared his throat, “Well, Gregory Marsh had asked my approval to take you out tomorrow, and I agreed.”

You felt your voice plummet to the depths of your gut, trying to mask your true emotions that were bound to show on you shortly. 

“Great, I’ll get a head start on my homework then.” You ran upstairs to your room, hearing your mom make a comment about how you must be nervous for your first real date.

Shutting your door gently, you looked at the pale pink rug on your floor, curling your toes into the plush material. You took a deep breath, steadying your racing chest as you sunk to the floor. Comfort was found in the cool material, laying on your back in hopes you would sink into it. 

But you didn’t. You remained on the floor of your bedroom you’ve had since you were a baby, pale pink walls with cherubs on your dresser. The feeling of being alone weighed on your chest, locking down as tears pricked your eyes. All you could hope for is that the day would go by quickly.

—

“Wow, you look great.” Gregory commented as you walked away from your front door and towards his car, a 1979 Thunderbird. He opened the door as you thanked him, smoothing out your blue dress on his leather seats.

“I was thinking we could go get some coffee?” He proposed, eyebrows lifting while he buckled up. Agreeing, he began to drive away, putting on a local radio station that cycled through different genres of music. 

Gregory asked you about school, church, and other common courtesy questions that you reciprocated. He told a story of his coworker who accidentally came into the insurance office without pants on, laughing the whole way through.

While the story was amusing, you weren’t interested, finding your mind trailing to other topics. Even mundane issues like if you remembered to put your dirty clothes in the washer or if you turned off the oven after making muffins for your siblings. You only snapped back to reality when you parked and the radio shut off midway through Manic Monday.

The quaint coffee shop had a case full of pastries, small treats, and some pre packaged goodies under fluorescent lights. As Gregory ordered a black coffee with a donut, you asked for hot tea and a croissant, tempted by all the treats. Once you had them, you sat at a table by the window, placing a napkin in your lap. 

“So what do you think about senior year? Almost done, hm?” He spoke, taking a sip from his mug that seeped with steam. He placed it back on the circular table, decorated with shards of glass in cement, almost like a stained window on the walls of a place of worship. 

“It’s good, a lot of work, but I’m glad I’m getting A’s.” You replied, toying with the flakes that broke loose with every bite on your plate. The warm bread melted on your tongue that you almost moaned, it had been crafted by someone with talent or pulled from a freezer and reheated. You didn’t care which at this point as you took another bite.

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised, you’ve always been so smart.” He acknowledged, feeling your own cheeks warm with flattery. 

“Thanks. How are you enjoying being a real adult?” You asked, taking a small sip of your hot tea. It was a bit strong so you grabbed some honey and creamer, stirring it in with a small spoon.

“Better than high school.” He chuckled, “I enjoy what I do, just ready for the next step I suppose.”

The daunting next step loomed over your head as the words left his mouth, but the dark cloud had been there for a long time. He was established and now seeking a wife. He didn’t have to vocalize it, you knew, but you could only sulk for so long when you saw a whiff of familiar brown hair.

Why Eddie was at this exact coffee shop at this time was unknown, but you chose to focus on the guy in front of you who was recalling another mundane story. Trying with every fiber of your being to be intrigued, questioning why you couldn’t feel strongly towards him. He was what every parent would want for their daughter, but you wondered if all these girls really wanted them. 

After you were sure Eddie was no longer in your presence, you had doubts that the hair belonged to him, it was like he was never there at all. Swallowing the warm drink, you excused yourself to the restroom, hoping to splash some cool water on your face to make you snap back to reality.

As you passed the bathrooms in the hidden corner, an arm grabbed to pull you in, recognizing the feeling of the rings immediately. Turning your head around, you saw his boyish smile as you stood stunned, heart racing quickly from the sudden change in direction. Every possible sense picked up on him; The way your back was held to his chest, watching his hands fall to your hips, smelling like cigarettes and cologne so intoxicating your head could spin, but what lacked was taste.

“Sorry, saw you across the street on your date with your ‘husband’, I couldn't help but think about you yesterday.” He rumbled against the shell of your ear, “Thought about my face between your thighs, when you made all those pretty noises for me.” 

The lights flickered briefly as he spoke, his fingers trailing up your skirt to find your panties that were not yet soaked, but he felt as you relaxed into him. 

“Eddie,” You whispered, eyes closing, “Will you kiss me, please?”

A chuckle rang through your ear as two fingers danced across your bundle of nerves, a gasp climbing from your lungs. Lifting one leg with his spare hand to gain more access, he felt how wet you were becoming.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart, kind of impolite to kiss someone else on a date. Call me a prude, but I think he may want to do that without tasting me.” His breath was ragged as he felt you wiggle against him, head thrown back like no words he just said actually resonated. 

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” He began, nibbling on your ear lobe as his fingers worked you closer, “Look at you, spreading your legs for a man while on a date with someone else. A damn adulteress for a preacher's daughter.” 

While the words were meant to spur you further, you ceased all movement. The simple word that left his lips last brought back the feeling of sitting in church, cross legged in mary jane shoes. Listening to the 1,000th sermon from your father about nuclear family dynamics, a man and wife.

As a child, you were taught that cheating was on the same playing field as murder, no matter the circumstance. When the phrase left Eddies mouth, you felt like you had murdered someone cold blooded, despite not even being Gregory’s beau.

“Stop.” You weakly called, his arms immediately leaving your body. He looked at you with care, beginning to ask if you were alright as you looked at him with an aghast expression. The images of being in church, hearing of these vile women who went against what was taught flooded your senses that Eddie had occupied moments ago.

“I…” Voice falling short, you walked hastily to your table, grabbing your purse. Coming up with an excuse of feeling sick, Gregory offered to drive you home, but you insisted you needed fresh air. Your feet took off, coming to a run once out of eyesight of the cafe and into the forest. Within the maze of trees, you found a small pond with tadpoles swimming in earthmade wells. 

Crouching down to the ground, your finger lightly skimmed the cool liquid, watching the small creatures move to the edge. You pulled away your hand, trying to focus on anything, but the growing knot in your belly.

You looked around to see a fallen tree by the outskirts of the water, sitting on it and allowing yourself to cry freely. So much time was spent containing your emotions that you rarely cried, but they invaded your eyes, leaving a trail of black mascara.

You heard your name being called as Eddie came into view, disheveled hair and huffing chest. You turn towards him, backing up slightly before looking out across the water.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you or do something you didn’t want-” He anxiously rambled, walking closer and taking a seat beside you. Your throat contracted as you opened your mouth, deciding shaking your head would have to work for the moment. His hand went to hold yours that rested on your knee, his thumb stroking it in comfort.

He waited patiently as you recollected as much as possible, “Eddie, please kiss me.”

“I don’t think I should.” Giving a poker face, he visibly swallowed hard.

“Why not?” You whispered, all the fears of what his response could possibly be intruding into your brain. You started to wait for his response, but couldn’t stop yourself, “Eddie I don’t like Gregory the way I like you.”

The admission made his face go slightly pale, thumb seizing the calming rub on your knuckles while your chest tightened. You couldn’t get a read on his exact emotion, silently praying he would finally speak.

“I’m not what you need, you need someone like Greg.” He stated, his hand going to his own lap as he stood, beginning to pace.

His admission made your skin crawl. What was so different from what you had already done to each other to his lips against yours. You thought of how sex was such an enigma your whole life, only knowing things like condoms existed through health class. But a kiss was a display of affection or love to you. Wedding after wedding that your father hosted all sealed with a romantic kiss that you assumed made them weak to the knees.

Everything you and Eddie had endured together was unknown, it was thrilling to feel his hands touch your body, finding areas of pleasure you didn’t know existed. Purity resonated within you in these moments, you didn’t feel dirty or used, you felt respected. Where was the line drawn in intimacy that made it become the daunting, deflowering that was prompted for your wedding night.

Lips against lips was a declaration of devotion, one that you craved from the man before you. The demure emotions that you displayed held a case of unsteady ones, determined to plow through at any moment. You stood up sharply, dusting the dirt off your bottom as you let out a sarcastic laugh. He turned around with a confounded look, leaves rustling against his shoes.

“My whole entire life, I’ve been told what to do by everyone. Don’t be like them, Eddie, please.” You spoke, nerves igniting within you that you didn’t realize were there. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry,” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just want the best for you, he can take care of you and all the shit that you want.”

He didn’t get it. 

While the town of Hawkins resented him for his clothes, attitude, and music, they only accepted one version of you. You had no choice, but to conform to what was expected of you, it was conditioned by judgment from others since birth. Feelings always felt so black and white to you until you met Eddie, he was an unknown color that didn’t have a name yet, but it was your favorite now. 

Ears burning with anger, you pressed your lips together to contain yourself. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” He tentatively asked, throwing his thumb over his shoulder to the left. Shaking your head, you turned to walk in the opposing direction until you no longer felt his gaze. 

Wishing this was like a romantic movie where he would run up, suddenly understanding every ounce of trauma you ever endured, kissing you passionately while the skies opened up. But this didn’t happen. There were no footsteps behind you, just the noise of a bird singing above you.

—---

When Eddie walked into English class on Monday to see your seat empty, he assumed with the rest of the class that you were in the bathroom or running errands for a teacher. It was only when the bell rang for the next period did he realize you had been gone the whole time. The last you had spoken to him was Saturday, having to see your tears and leaving you distraught.

All throughout Sunday, Eddie was trying to formulate his emotions into a sensible response to you. That even though his desires burned on the deepest of levels, that it could never be enough for what you deserved. He couldn’t hold you back from everything you were capable of, as badly as he wanted to be all you needed and more. 

Through his time of thought, he knew he needed to open himself up just as you had done amongst the tadpoles. To open his heart for the first time in a long time and let someone know how much he cared, despite how much he doubted himself.

When he asked a church friend where you were, she was astonished by his curiosity, saying you hadn’t been at the service the day before either. That you were staying at your friend Danielle’s due to her having a personal emergency on Saturday afternoon. With that explanation alone, his stomach sank with worry. 

On Saturday afternoon, you devised a plan on a whim, calling your friend Danielle to cover for you and say you were at her house if asked. She wasn’t as straight edge as your fellow friends, only agreeing if you called her every so often to confirm your safety. 

Running inside your home, you wrote a quick note explaining your friend had an unknown predicament and that you had to go immediately. You threw some clothes into a duffle bag with some other necessities, grabbing a walkman with some mixtapes and flying off on your bike. You sped down roads for hours, not knowing your end destination, just that you needed to get out.

You found yourself at a location outside your hometown, calling your parents on a payphone as they ridicule you for having to miss church tomorrow for the first time since 4th grade when you had the flu. You played the act of distress, having them eventually buy the bit before you could hang up.

Legs worn out, you knew it was time to find somewhere to stay, but your stomach growled. Grabbing as much ice cream as possible and some soda from a five and dime, you wandered to a motel, buying a night. As you sat alone in the dimly lit bedroom, you felt numb to the influx of emotions felt mere hours ago, a shallow shell. 

Taking a quick shower, you cleaned yourself with your hands, allowing a thought of Eddie’s own fondling you once more. Feeling yourself still pent up from the lack of release at the coffee shop, you felt too mentally drained to continue. Pulling on some pajamas, you finally ate the frozen treat that had begun melting and drinking a Coke.

The TV buzzed with static as you clicked the buttons, settling on Growing Pains, focusing your attention to the charming Kirk Cameron. You stifled a laugh or two, but spent the night within your own head. It began to rain outside, distracting you from the heartthrob on the tv, back to reality. 

Rain trickled down the window, making the streetlight and parking lot appear as an oil painting. Rain was similar to sadness where it made even mundane objects or things feel poetic or remarkable. Flailing on the stiff sheets, you let out a screech into the pillow beneath you, a laugh track taunting you from the device in the corner.

You weren’t sure when you exactly woke up, but it had to have been midday. It didn’t matter as the whole day was spent either crying, screaming into a section of the bed, or biking to a convenient store to buy cheap ramen and Skittles. You kept yourself busy by organizing the candy into color groups, starting with your least favorite flavor, grape, and finishing with the supreme, strawberry.

It was only when you turned the television on again when you recalled it was a Sunday, finally checking the time after your small excursions. It was already dinner time, yet the growing frustration of the situation filled you up.

You realized how pathetic you felt asking for permission to go away even at 18 years old, only justifying it, mentally, by living under their roof and still being in high school. But not everything was as definitive.

Everyday was a deed made for those around you. Wearing clothes that were approved by your parents, studying relentlessly to appease the idea that you would actually go to school and not just play housewife like the congregation expected you to, and even meeting Eddie began as a favor for a teacher.

You had tried to forget him, but the heart has more strength than the brain, finding yourself drifting off to the idea of him beside you. His arm slung around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your head, hair tickling your nose as he shifted in his sleep. He ambushed every waking moment and it was ruining you, knowing the feelings aren't reciprocated. 

So the following day when Eddie was leaving school in a panic at your sudden disappearance, you found yourself at a small bar, eating fries while watching a random hockey game. Did people actually come to bars to watch hockey? It was fairly empty so probably not. 

“Hey kiddo, you okay?” A woman asked, making your gaze go from the ice to her. You looked a bit thrown off until you realized leftover reminisce of your mascara still coated your undereyes.

“Men are the worst.” Is all you could muster as she guffawed, signaling a bartender to grab two beers on tap. He set the cool mugs down before she slid one in front of you, nodding in approval as you thanked her. Never having a sip of alcohol, you coughed after one sip, but went back for more.

“I hear ya. Names Patsy.” She quipped, sticking out a hand that you reciprocated, sliding over the bowl of fries with the free hand. She cocked an eyebrow as she took one, smiling kindly under red lipstick. 

Patsy was unlike any woman you had met in Hawkins. She was covered in tattoos, worse fake eyelashes that reached her eyebrows, a small piercing in the hairs and gorgeous brown hair held back by a bandana headband. 

You began friendly banter, eventually spilling more secrets as the night went on, she talked of her two ex husbands and her work. She pointed at a shiny black motorcycle outside that was hers as you sat in awe of a girl riding a bike like that.  The sky was completely dark as you reached the result of what brought you here, airing out your dirty laundry to a woman who you knew nothing but everything about.

“Damn, kid, that’s a tough break,” She sighed, drinking another beer and licking the foam from her top lip, “My family was like that, I was a preacher's daughter too.” Her revelation made you feel light, that someone could break through the confines to find true originality.

“I’ll let you know something though, don’t let these guys make you feel bad, okay? My dad made me feel like shit for every mistake I made, but you gotta find your own way. Doesn’t mean you have to lose your faith, lose yourself, or run away. You just gotta find what's good for you, not anyone else.” Patsy proclaimed as you nodded along, feeling seen for the first time in yourself as a regular woman, not in accordance with your relation to someone.

“You think this kid, Eddie, is what’s good for you?” She questioned, popping a fresh fry in her mouth that she had ordered as you followed suit. 

“I think so.” You muttered, staring at your black, hightop Converses that rocked against the beam of the stool.

“Then go for it, babe. And if that doesn’t work out, you got the rest of your life to figure that shit out. The love of your life is probably not named Gregory who worked in insurance. Just like mine wasn’t named David who was a used car salesman, never date one of those.” You laughed at her advice, but took it to heart, taking another swig of your second beer. 

The small bar and its dance floor began to fill, loud music playing that flushed out your once intimate conversation. She excused herself as you bid farewell, finding yourself drinking a third beer. You had walked around in the small place, watching women and men dance with one another, surprised to see this place so active for a Monday night. 

The casual jeans and tight, revealing shirt you wore made you feel more comfortable amongst the crowd, letting the alcohol flow through your tired body. The thoughts of worry, shame, and guilt dissipated with every sip. 

“Hey! I’m Matt.” A gruff voice came from behind you, his hand reaching the small of your back. Too drunk to care much, you introduced yourself, leaning further into his touch. He offered to buy you a drink and you agreed, watching from the floor as he ordered a pretty glass. 

Matt was probably six foot, wearing business casual clothes that made him look like a true adult, dress shoes that had to have been shined recently, and a shiny watch that reflected on against the dim lights. Your drunken haze made you confident you could marry this man right now, especially after downing the clear, brown liquid, choking at the stinging sensation.

“You ever had whisky before?” He yelled over the music, amused at your intense reaction as he moved to the beat. 

“I drank for the first time tonight so no!” You grinned, arms raising to dance and embrace the sweat and intoxication flowing through the room. His hands pulled you closer to him as you swayed to a Prince song, finding more drinks reaching your grasp as every song continued.

He moved his head to try and catch your lips, but you’d shy away with a shriek. Alcohol had apparently made you a bit aloof and carefree, “I don’t kiss on the first date.” Your words were sewn together as he smirked, your ass pressing against his front while your arms lifted to behind his head. 

You occasionally thought of engaging in this activity with the metalhead, but shook it off, he didn’t care. You could make yourself busy, tonight didn’t have to end until you think it should.

Concurrently with your adventure, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking of you, driving all over to find any clue of where you had run off to. He drove past the obvious spots like your house, the library, the woods near the cafe again, but to no avail. He wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew you were safe, feeling guilty for not conveying his true affections.

He had found your friend Danielle through a call to Gareth, who confirmed that she was the same girl he kissed in third grade under the slide. There were only so many Danielles that he took a shot in the dark and rode to her place of work, a pet store near the city's center. He wished he had the mental capacity to look at the kittens meowing his direction, but his gaze was set on the girl before him.

He didn’t allow her time to introduce herself as he asked where you were, hands resting on the blue crate as she sorted through dog toys, labeling them.

“I don’t think I should tell you, she told me not to-” Danielle asserted, clear with the intent to stay locked down. That was one thing about girls who had strict parents had in common, they could be sneaky as hell and keep a secret like a safe.

“Listen, I just want to make sure she’s safe, she never misses church or school.” Eddie sighed, making Danielle freeze for a brief moment before continuing with her stickers.

“She’s fine.” Her response was not as solid, lip between her teeth as she peeled a decal from the fuzzy material of the toy. He kept his gaze unwavering towards her until she looked at him. Danielle knew you were a tad unstable at the moment, she secretly wished she would tell Eddie, but she also knew it wasn’t her information to unveil.

“Eddie, right?” He nods, “I get you want to make sure she’s safe, I’ve been telling her to call me every few hours to make sure she is. I don’t even know exactly where she is.”

Thanking her briefly, he stomped out in a hurry as the sun dimmed. He clenched his steering wheel and let the metal music blast from his speaker, screaming for a moment till riding out of the parking lot. He realized he should probably check the outskirts of town, going in the direction of your house. 

He listened to three whole mixtapes before driving past a grungy bar, not paying much attention until he saw your bike. He knew it was yours due to the peeling barcode left on from when you bought it, he made fun of you for never remembering to pull it off. You now insisted it was part of the ‘essence’ of the bike, that you had to leave it on. He swung into a u-turn, trying to glance in to no avail. The lights were dim and smoke coated the insides. 

He got out, shrugging off his leather jacket to leave him in an Iron Maiden tee with a small hole at the lower right side, a result of messing with a loose string too much. 

“Hey! Your name Eddie?”

His head whipped to see the same brunette woman you spoke to hours ago, perched on a black motorcycle, wearing sunglasses, and smoking a cigarette. He walked up to her, breathing deep with uncertain emotions.

“Yeah, who are you?” His voice was harsh as she turned stern, stomping out the bud, standing up to be about his own height. 

“Patsy. Had a chat with a girl here tonight, talked about an edgy boy who seemed too similar to you to be a coincidence.” She breathed, cracking the strain in her back as she leaned downward. He couldn’t tell if he felt comforted that he found you here, about 20 miles from city lines, about 30 miles from your home. 

“Shit, yeah, I’m the asshole. But I’m just trying to find her.” He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair as he stood up straighter to take another look into the windows. 

“Well, I’m just out here to make sure she got out of her safe.” This made the boy tense his eyebrows together, cocking his head as she lit another cigarette from her breast pocket. He took note of her cool jean jacket with various metal band patches, much like his own in the van.

“I’m not here to be the Pope or anything, but I understand her struggles, felt like I could give her a bit of advice. But some of these dudes, ain’t no good.” She took a huff of her cigarette, blowing smoke into the black sky, “I left, but turned around. Wanted to wait till she left or someone came for her.”

This was the first time she moved her sunglasses from her eyes, getting a good look up and down at Eddie. He stood tapping his foot nervously, hands on hips. His rough exterior made his jittery movements seem adverse, but she nodded and straddled her bike.

“Make sure the kids' home safe, got it?” She commanded as he nodded, watching as the motorcycle purred underneath her. 

“Thank you for looking out for her.” Eddie called as she gave a wink, putting her black frames in front of her eyes and driving off into the darkness of the unfamiliar town. He stood in place until he heard echoes of Madonna from the inside, Papa Don’t Preach sending him to the front doors. His height did little to assist the mission of finding you, sandwiched between varying bodies. 

You started to lose track of drinks, body moving absentmindedly to the rhythm cascading the whole atmosphere. Matt stayed glued to your side, feeding you fruity drinks and trying to get any words out above the music. 

The man around you wasn’t just hoping you’d have a fun time drinking as he felt you up, cooing incoherent words in your ear which you always giggled at, mostly due to the tickle of his facial hair against your neck. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

The words caught the brown haired boy’s ear as he looked to see Matt leading you out. Stumbling over heels and downing a shot, falling into his chest. Eddie got up and marched right up to you grabbing your hands then hung around Matt’s neck loosely. 

“Eddie!” You sang with a grin, giving you a soft smile, mostly due to the relief of finding you safe. The other man gave him a dirty look, but he just shrugged, wrapping you closer to him in fear you’d fall. 

“C’mon sexy, I thought we were heading to my place, so you’ll finally kiss me.” Matt placed a hand on your shoulder that was almost immediately met with a cryless wail, shoving your face further into Eddie’s warm and familiar chest. Too drunk to remember this was the same boy who left you heartbroken two days ago, just the positives stayed at the moment.

Matt mumbled an insult as he stormed out, knocking over a glass on the way out. Eddie ignored his temper tantrum, attempting to walk out by guiding your feet, but realizing it would save significant energy to just lift you. Your legs promptly wrapped around his waist, making incoherent noises.

“Fuck, how much did you drink?” He groaned, not expecting an actual answer, but was given one anyway after he sat you down, running to throw your bike in the back.

“I think 13, I should probably have another one cause that numbers uneven and some come with a little umbrella.” You hiccuped as he buckled you in, rubbing hands over his face at the severe amount you had, knowing you hadn’t touched a drop previously.

“Where did you sleep last night?” Dodging the aforementioned answer, she giggled, pointing to the right to a straight road lined with lit up restaurants and stores.

“I got a motel and watched TV and had ice cream. My bags there with my money, Kirk Cameron was there too.” You babbled, pulling the hotel keys from your pants pocket. He snatched it to your protests, looking at the name of the place and driving towards it. He realized the side of this town you found yourself at wasn’t exactly safe, grateful that he had just found you drunk and not harmed. 

As you pulled into the same parking lot that was covered in rain the night before, he went to your side to open the squeaking door. He held your face in his large hands, looking you over as your expression was blank. 

He gently coaxed you from his van, wobbly getting out and accidentally stepping on his boots that he loved. He was preoccupied grabbing his own overnight bag he had stored with extra clothes in case he ended up driving somewhere, he just thought it would be more drug related and not following you to a random bar related. He hadn’t even realized you had stepped on him until he heard you weeping, covering your mouth.

“M’so sorry Eddie.” You started heaving as he panicked, deciding to just carry you, again, into the small bedroom. A mantra of apologies flooded the room, “I didn't mean to step on your boot, m’so sorry!” He tried shushing you, hugging you close to his chest, stroking your hair. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay, I’ve got ya.” His murmurs helped soothe you, breathing regulating to a normal tempo before he slightly pulled away, guiding you to the bathroom to change. As much as you probably needed a shower, it would’ve resulted in an injury at your state.

He grabbed your shirt and shorts set on your bed, a random pair of underwear from your bag, and placed it in your hands. He found some wipes to clean your face, waiting as you opened the door to the tee on backwards. 

He smiled as you walked straight into his chest, looking up at him with big eyes, blinking, like a thought had never been behind them. He gently held your face steady so he could wipe off the mascara and lipstick. 

“T’feels good.” You smile, eyes shutting as he tossed the dirty cloth in the bin. He found a way to get you to your bed, tucking you in as you yawned. He yawned right after making you erupt in girlish laughter. 

“Alright, giggles, sleep.” He said, taking the pillows from the left side of the bed to make a space for him on the floor. He went to the bathroom to put on some flannel pajama pants, shrugging off a shirt, he was hot enough with the trousers. It was only when he had finally laid down that the whining began. 

“Eddieee.” You whispered, peaking your eyes from the mattress, seeing your hair fall as he looked up at you. 

“What.” Sighing as he stretched his back, trying to get comfortable on the very firm carpet. 

“C’mereee” Words slurring against the foam mattress, inching further off the edge. 

“No, sleep.” He mustered up as much sternness as he could at being this tired, it was also arduous to be angry at you.

The room went quiet as he shut his eyes, surprised that his attempt had succeeded quickly. This lasted a few seconds before he felt your finger start to trace his nose, scrunching it to derail your route. But you persevered in his hair, racking your fingers through it. 

“I like your hair.”

“Go. To. Sleep.” He persisted, gritting out each word with eyes shut, turning to his side.

The room went quiet once more except for the slight buzz of the street lamps outside, but that too was joined by another noise. 

“Eddie, please, I’m cold!” You plead, shuffling against the white sheets, restless.

He tried his best to ignore your words, still not very coherent, but you clearly needed him with you to shut your eyes for a minute. 

“Can I sleep down there with you?” You reasoned, rubbing your hands over your tired eyes. 

“Sleep.” Flatly saying it, but your begging continued softly, hearing a few sniffles followed by his name. 

“Christ. Fine! Fine!” He broke, a joyful squeal coming from the mattress above him before he stood. 

“Alright, little lady, no funny business.” His eyes squinted at you as he set the pillows on the opposing side, walking around to his side. He laid down beside you while you instantly latched onto him. 

“I promise.” You mumbled against his chest, shoving your pointed pinkie finger in his face. 

“Don’t take out my eye!” He dodged the attack, met with your simper. 

“What if I wanted your eye? What if I was dying and needed it?” You berated, still slightly ineligible due to the drinks and being against him. 

“Could I give you, like, a camel’s eye or something? Cause I kinda like my eye.” This was met with your gasp, setting your chin on his clothed peck to see him. 

“I don’t want a camel’s eye!” The actual sad look on your face made Eddie’s heart leap, the silly situation warranting it making it easier to swallow than the last time he saw it. 

“Go to sleep, giggles.” He chuckled, instinctively wrapping you closer as you melted into his grasp, hands respectively at your mid back. 

“You can put your hands anywhere.” You hummed with shut eyes, cheek squished against him as he rolled his own eyes. His hands stayed still as he waited for you to drift asleep in his arms, finding his own rest shortly after.

——

Waking up to the sound of someone throwing up reminded Eddie way too much of his party days. He groaned, rubbing his face to gain consciousness until he realized he was in a motel. The memories of the night before locked in as he stumbled to the bathroom.

He grabbed your hair in a ponytail as you threw up, crying a bit from the intensity. No one forgets their first hangover. He rubbed your back, sitting on the edge of the tub right next to the toilet you were hunched over. 

“You’re okay, just let it out.” He murmured tiredly, wincing at the clear pain you were in. He waited until you had stopped vomiting for a few minutes to help you sit against the wall, shoulders relaxing as you breathed deep. 

“Drinking’s not very fun.” You grumbled, rubbing your own forehead as he chuckled, standing up to walk to the first aid kit at the top of the cabinet. Finding some ibuprofen, he got a cup and filled it with water, sitting next to you. 

“Ah.” He vocalized, signaling you to open your mouth as he cupped two pills in his hand, helping you lean back to let them fall in. He cautioned you to drink slowly to avoid throwing up again. 

It was quiet as you came down from your nausea, he opened his arms to let you rest on his shoulder which you obliged, head pounding less and less as the medicine kicked in.

“I’m sorry for thinking I knew what was best for you,” Eddie breathed, “I don’t know what’s best for you, hell, I barely know how to keep myself alive.” You softly smiled, slowly nodding, relieved that if anything, he just began to understand your situation more.

“Thanks Ed’s. Thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry.” Slightly embarrassed at how much you drank last night and throwing up in front of him, but he looked at you with kind eyes when you peered up. 

“Don’t be sorry, you had every right to go away. I just wanted to make sure you were safe, was scared something bad would happen.” Nothing bad did happen, but Eddie couldn’t ignore the slight ache he had when he saw you with someone else. 

When you were able to stand, you opted for a shower, grabbing your bag and shuffling in. Any quick movement left you a bit dizzy, steadying yourself against the countertop, hearing Eddie ask that you just leave it unlocked in case you fell. 

“What if I fall on purpose?” The suggestive words left your mouth before thinking twice. 

“I’ll leave you there if you do that.” He joked, tidying up the space. 

Finding your toothbrush, you cleaned thoroughly until your gums were about to bleed, finally getting in the shower. As you stood under the warm water, the feeling of sickness was overcome by the intensity you felt through your chest these past few days. You knew you had to go home, but how lovely would it be to be a stranger.

Going to a bar, meeting fellow strangers that had no idea if you were lying or telling the truth. Being a stranger made you whoever you wanted to be for a few moments, oftentimes finding your true feelings as you release. An audience’s response that only matters for the time, leaving to never see them again. You hoped you’d find Patsy again though.

As much as your heart ached for the boy on the other side of the walls, you tried to imagine how the night would have gone if he hadn’t come. Had he not given a shit and just played guitar in his bedroom, shrugging off the news about your absence in English class. 

The night behind you was hazy, but you remembered Patsy, the greasy fries, the sweet drinks, and Matt. You only remembered Matt due to his bad breath that was masked by the vodka in his system and your own, how he kept trying to kiss you. You knew he hadn’t kissed you cause you distinctly remember him dragging it out, making it a big deal that you wouldn’t kiss a random man. 

The water became slightly cool as you finished, wrapping up in a towel with gold embroidery scattered across it. You went to open the door to grab your bag, but it was placed right by your feet, yelling a thank you in response.

“This room is, maybe, the size of a closet, you don’t have to scream.” He replied just as loudly as you stripped with the door shut. You found a cream sweater and blue jeans, putting those on as they stuck to your wet skin. 

You entered the main room to Eddie watching MTV in his clothes from the day before, the band tee showing glimpses of his tattoos. “Man, this channel sucks during the day.” 

You laughed, placing the strap to your bag over your shoulder, sitting on the bed next to the phone. Your blood ran cold when you went to reach for it, dialing your home number to your worried mother.

“Honey! Why didn’t you call yesterday? Is Dani okay? Are you okay?” She rushed, hearing the rustle of papers from the other side, slightly relieved that worry triumphed over anger. 

“I’m good mom, so’s Dani,” You shared, twirling the cord as Eddie laid back to set his head in your lap. Your hand went to scratch his head until he started fake moaning sexually. Your hand clamped over his, but he continued excessively, the skin not doing much to muffle his loud voice. 

“I’ll head home soon, love you!” You peeped, slamming it off before standing up, Eddie’s head falling against the covers as he laughed. 

You shoved your face in your hands before smacking his chest, a loud noise of skin against skin emitting sounding oddly erotic. “Well that didn’t help!”

Grabbing your bag, you covered your ears, mimicking the same thing he did to you just a few days ago in his trailer. “La la, can’t hear you!” 

A serious face came to him as he stood on the bed, holding his arm as if he had a sword, swishing it, “You must listen to Eddie the Banished, Miss Rocky.”

“What? Did you hear something?” You played along, hands still covering your ears as you looked around, but Eddie was in your personal space quickly, trying to pry your hands away. 

“Miss Rocky can’t hear you, sorry!” You shrieked as you shook loose of his grasp, your back hitting the wall with a thud. You stood bashfully as he sauntered over to you with a playful glare, arms planting besides your head. 

Lips met lips as he kissed you gently, hands dropping from their intimidating stance to your cheek and hip. He helped guide your hesitant movements, pulling away to look at you,

"Do you hear me now?"

an; hi everyone, thank you for all the love with this series and my other works. it's been so therapeutic to write some personal emotions into this, and i'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying it as well :)

feedback is always appreciated!

also for some reason it’s not letting me tag new people so i apologize if it didn’t go through :(

taglist: @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @wicked-wordy-witchy-witch @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @imsuchafriggensimp @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @diaryofthedoll

#elora writes #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson edit #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things four #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things fic

[carolmunson]

starting from zero, got nothing to lose (eddie munson x ofc)

part I Eddie Munson makes it out of the Upside Down, and a year and some change later makes it out of Hawkins. Knee deep in the '89 NYC metal scene and working at a boxing gym in Brooklyn, Eddie wonders if he'll ever find his footing running from Hawkins. With only some phones calls to sustain his friendships back home, will he be able to let go for the long haul? Or will his past in Hawkins eventually catch up with him? AN: Back in June I started writing vignettes of this story as it came to me and am still developing it. I have plot ideas that need refining, but like, at least 20 pages of content for this story already. I've had to do a lot of research to make it as time period accurate as possible. I've lived in NYC for 12 years but wasn't alive in the 80s so I'm doing my best.

This first chapter is mostly exposition and background but our guy is a lil' sassy towards the end. The OFC does have descriptors, but whatever imagine her however you'd like.

I think the only TW is drug use and drug mention in this chapter but I'll be vigilant for any more. Lastly, if you're under 18, please don't read this shit.

New York City December 29th, 1989

It was a cold night. The subways were empty with holiday shopping finally over and the short lull between Christmas and New Years tourists had arrived. Eddie sat with his legs spread out wide on the bench of the train. One hand drummed out the beat of Dr. Feelgood on his knee, the other on the switchblade in his vest pocket. He only had to use it once since he came to the city, but it never hurt to have it ready to go. 

He didn’t like the subway. Not because of the graffiti, that was metal. Not because of the homeless sleeping on the train cars or asking him for money. Not because he already had a beat up truck he could drive instead. It was because when it was late at night, and it was just him, the little flicker of the overhead lights made him nervous. Like once they shut off, they’d shut off forever and he’d wake up still stuck in the…

“Hey man, you got a dollar?” a raspy voice asked, holding a hand out. Eddie looked up and gave the guy a quick once over. He looked rough – hunched over and dried out. The dirt caked in his nails looked like it had been there for years. 

“Sure man, yeah,” he fumbled a bit for his wallet, pulling at the chain on his pants. He slipped out a couple bills and handed them over, “Be safe tonight, okay?” 

“God Bless,” the man murmured while shuffling away, “Happy New Year.” 

Eddie looked out the window of the car, they still hadn’t pulled out of York Street. The trip from Gleason’s to Delancey was only a stop across the boroughs, but it sometimes felt like hours to make it into the city from Brooklyn. He caught his reflection in the window, still him – but a couple years weathered. The shine had dulled out of his eyes, only lighting up when the phone in his apartment rang because he knew it would be Dustin and the gang. His hair was the same curly, wavy, frizzy mess it always was. Calluses and scabs on his knuckles contrasted against his gun metal rings. 

After leaving Hawkins in the Fall of ‘87, he spent a lot of time sleeping in his Uncle Wayne’s truck while working odd jobs in different Ohio and Pennsylvania towns so he could make enough money to head out to New York. He wanted to go to all the places he read about in Metallix, Rock Scene, and Punk Magazine. Maybe he’d meet the Ramones or something, or THE fucking Ozzy after a show. He wanted to get out of all the small towns so at least he could be a freak in a big city full of other freaks. But if you wanted to be a freak in Ohio and Pennsylvania, you needed to know how to fight.

It took him some time to recover after getting out of the Upside Down, he spent over a year in Hopper’s cabin in a makeshift hospital bed. The only good side about the end of the world in Hawkins is that everyone thought he was dead; so they weren’t looking for a satanic killer on the loose anymore. The downside was trying to figure out where they were going to find him a blood supply. It worked out but just barely. Then there was the whole, learning to be a person again. When he started getting stronger, he told Hopper his plan to leave, and Hopper taught him the basics. Jab, cross, hook, uppercut. His stance, how to move, how to breathe, how to block. He was kicking himself for not learning sooner. 

The kids were able to snag his school records, Wayne brought all of his cassettes, documents, and his guitar Lucy who survived the trip from another dimension. His uncle gave him $400 dollars, Wayne’s entire savings, and his beat up truck. 

“Call when you can,” he said in a firm hug before Eddie left – but Wayne passed away a few months later from a heart attack. It killed him not to go to the funeral. 

He ended up in the city around the same time last year, came across Gleason’s Gym during a fight and asked for a job as a janitor the same night. Something about watching boxing matches gave him the same excitement he got whenever he heard a solid guitar solo. He didn’t want to get in the ring or spar or anything, he just wanted to be around some of that chaos…and the girls helped, too. Girls always helped. Bruce, the owner, said he’d only let the manager give him a raise if he got his GED – and so maybe ‘86 wasn’t his year, but ‘88 had shaped up to be.  

The pay wasn’t amazing, but he wasn’t sleeping in his car long. Eddie was good at a lot of things, cleaning up blood and spit, fixing cars, he could play guitar, and most importantly, he was really, really good at selling cocaine. He was quick to be picked up for selling, his look helped, but he made sure to find a supplier with quality. It wasn’t Hawkins, so there weren’t many positives in selling shitty drugs in NYC — just a lot of split lips and black eyes. He did his best in metal bars, music venues, and out of Gleason’s. A lot of the guys used it to stay lean and keep their weight class. This came in handy any time he heard a complaint in the men’s locker room. That’s where Tony came in the picture. 

The train screeched into Delancey and Essex and he swung himself on the pole off the train, a patched up leather satchel slamming up against his hip as he did. The sound of pills shaking in the bag distracted a few passers by but he shook off the stares, it was nothing at this point. Eddie got out of the subway into the chilled December night, lit a cigarette, and made his way to his next job. 

Tony Cardalino, or more affectionately known as Tone, came to Gleason’s a few months ago to train. Tone was like him: shaggy brown hair, bandana in his back pocket, battle jacket – the works. He was about five inches taller than him, built like a tank, a good fighter, and overall a lot more intimidating than Eddie ever was. Chrissy’s ‘ You’re not what I thought you’d be ,’ rang through his head the first time he had a conversation with him. 

“Aw nice pin, dude,” Tony said one night in the locker room while Eddie took off his coverall at the end of his shift, “I feel like the new kids don’t give WASP their respect.” 

That night they went through a pack of Marlboros together outside, talking about bands and Eddie still finding his footing in the city. He told him about the first time he went to CBGB and L’Amour, Tony told him all the good places to have sex with chicks there. He took the biggest interest in Eddie’s dealing. Tone’s second cousin was connected to the mob, a solid hit man, until he was the hit – so his bar ‘Skid’ on Avenue B needed a new supplier. Eddie wasn’t about to pass up another opportunity to make money, so he took him up on the offer. He’d go to Skid after Gleason’s and bring his inventory with him. 

“Just don’t let Ron catch ya,” he confessed, “You’d think those bartenders and bitches are too busy, but they see everything .”

“Is Ron a pig, or a narc or something?” Eddie asked, a little flash of fear striking through his chest. 

Tony laughed, “Nah, Ronnie’s just off that shit. Not really into the whole drug thing anymore and when Paulie got put in the river it shook everybody up. But Ron’ll deck ya if you get caught and it's a hell of an uppercut.” 

Now, Eddie had heard of Skid, but it had been rumored among some metal heads that it was more of a hard rock bar than a metal bar so he hadn’t visited. There were places closer to his apartment he’d been hanging out at anyway. But ever since Tony’s uncle overdosed and it was left to Tony to run, things had taken a more metal turn… supposedly . 

He pulled open the door, covered in stickers aside from the little opening for the ‘Come in! We’re open!’ sign. His hopes dashed a little as Led Zeppelin's ‘Black Dog’ blared through the speakers. In the ‘Is Led a metal band?’ debate, Eddie was staunchly against the idea – but all around Skid seemed like one of the places to be, even if it was a little quiet for a Friday. He guessed people were out of town or maybe still spending time with their families – whatever that means. He scoped the place out and saw Tony’s described ‘bitches’ manning the bar much to his relief. After finding a dark corner to settle in, he took a seat, keeping his bag open discreetly next to him.

All the booths, tables, and the bartop were dark cherry wood that looked black in the low lighting save for a little platform stage in the back, littered with amps and a drum set. Red leather upholstery looked worn and weathered from years of bar fights and the weight girls sitting on laps. Beer stains and cigarette burns. There were signed posters and photos all over the walls, two autographed Gibson’s hung over the bar with fishing wire. Ripped stickers and dollar bills with lipstick marks stuck to the back splash, lacy bras hung from the ceiling over the stage. It felt like a warm hug, he felt more at home than he had in months.

“Okay, well now that that shit’s over we’re gonna play Angel of Death by Suh-layerrrr,” a patron said lazily over the mic on the platform while his band set up. The crowd in the bar rowdily cheered. He had a beautiful Fender, Eddie almost purred in his throat when it glinted in the hazy red stage lights. He couldn’t pay attention long though, because with the band as a distraction, his customers slid by him one right after the other. The swap of baggies and bills felt like a waltz to him now he was so used to it, tucking the money into his sleeve and dropping it in the open satchel. He knew Tony had let word spread on who to look out for, but he wasn’t expecting this much in sales in one night. 

To not bring too much attention to himself, he closed his bag up after a few songs from the band and maneuvered over to an empty stool at the end of the bar. He slung the bag on one of the purse hooks under the bar’s lip (which he was surprised they had installed) and turned his attention back towards the stage. Nodding his head in time with the beat, crossing his arms across his chest – he tried to catch a glimpse of Tony just about anywhere, but he hadn’t seen him since he arrived.

“You gonna order something handsome, or do ya just like the view?” he heard a woman’s voice ask over his shoulder. He turned on the stool, face to face with a barmaid who was leaning in close to hear his answer. He looked up at her, taking in her details. Little leather bustier, big denim vest riddled with patches and pins, jeans that were just tight enough. The standard type at bars like this, tits out and everything. She had brown eyes with too much mascara lashes and big brown Farah Fawcett hair. He could smell her cherry flavored Lip Smackers from the stool. Checked all the boxes, down to the Debbie Harry smoky eye. 

“Oh,” he started, flashing her a smile and resting his chin on his hand, “Definitely the view.” Eddie had flirted his way into plenty of free shots with girls like her before, it was his favorite sport. She let a little puff of air out of her nose and leaned down onto her forearms. 

“What can I get you?” she asked, matching his posture. 

“I don’t know, what do you like?” he asked back, making a little show of slipping his eyes to her cleavage and then back up at her. She caught his stare and gave him a wink before slamming two tumblers down in front of them. I’m sure you do that to all the guys, he thought to himself. She poured two generous shots of Jack Daniels, picking up her glass and waiting for him to pick up his. 

“I always like to toast before I do a shot with a stranger,” she flirted, “Especially ones like you.” He was so easily intoxicated by women these days and this was no exception, his mouth ran dry at her attention. 

“What are we toasting to?” he asked in a low voice one hand on his drink and dropping the other down on the bar. With her free hand she reached slowly toward him, delicately placing his chin in her hand. He could feel the tips of her almond acrylics graze his skin.

She got nose to nose with him, Eddie could smell her perfume mixed with sweat and cigarette smoke. Her lips parted, hovering over his – his heart was thumping in his ears so hard it was drowning out the drums. 

“To me never catching you slinging that shit in my bar again. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you need to get the fuck out of here,” she hissed through gritted teeth. He blanched and sputtered. Was this a set up? Was he not at the right bar? Her nails dug into his chin as she threatened him, “Cause if not, I’ll call the fuckin’ owner out here and he knows the fuckin’ mob. Better yet, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass myself.” 

Eddie panicked, dropping the shot on the bar with a clink! Fuck, shit, shit, shit – 

Oh. 

Oh!

The ‘fucking owner’ that kne the mob was Tony. Eddie let out a snicker of relief, but it came out snarky. He took her wrist and pulled his face out of her nails, feeling the indents on his skin as he ran his other hand over his chin.  He leaned onto his knuckles over the bar, looking down to face her directly,

“You must be Ron.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson nyc au #eddie munson lives #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eventually #eventual smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

[luluboobird]

Unnamed Hanahaki

Word Count: 742

Summary: Another one-shot. Clarissa is sick and slowly she discovers why.

~~~

Clarissa is ecstatic.

Clarissa is devastated.

Two things could be true at once.

It’s difficult switching between those two drastically different emotions, but somehow she manages with a smile.

Love… love is a great gift, after all. Beautiful, overwhelming, and all-encompassing, it’s an amazing feeling. A wonderful experience and she’s grateful. The only downside is how fleeting this one would be, dying before it could truly blossom into anything.

All because… her affections had managed to manifest physically.

Like all great ailments, the symptoms had started small. Things that could be easily explained away on their own, but put together, they painted a concerning picture.

Difficulty breathing? Her corset must be a tad too tight. She opted to wear less restrictive dresses to remedy this problem.

The occasional sneeze? The pollen was a bit heavy this year.

Restlessness? Exhaustion? Vivid nightmares? She ordered a new bed set with 10000 thread count sheets and a plush comforter to match.

Loss of appetite? Windedness? Agitation? Confusion?

The symptoms continued to pile on over the next few weeks, and she adjusted herself accordingly for each reveal.

But one day, everything just started to make sense. She had been standing on the bridge early one morning, watching the sun paint a beautiful picture as it rose in the sky. Who else but Lady Lesso would sneak up on her at that moment?

“Princess.” The redhead had said in greeting, coming up to stand beside her. “Early, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I just felt… restless.” Restless was an understatement. That night she had struggled for hours on the precipice of sleep. Waking up at odd hours gasping for air and taking ages to fall back into slumber. She had no doubt in her mind that the exhaustion was palpable on her face.

“What happened to beauty sleep?” Leonora asked, and honestly, Clarissa had the same question. She felt a laugh bubble upwards, but it was cut short by a shallow cough.

“No idea.” She responded after catching her breath. Her hand reached up to clutch her chest. It felt weird. Constricted. “Gone. What are you doing out so early?”

“There was a live burial incident. They want me to mediate” It was such a strange response, Clarissa couldn’t possibly forget. “They managed to dig him out, of course, but now he’s talking about revenge. It’s a whole thing.” Leonora grumbled, looking over.

“Oh, well, good luck with that.” She had responded, lips quirking upward. At that moment, she made eye contact with Leonora and froze.

Her chest tightened, her heart thudded, and despite the fact that this meeting was no different from any of their usual interactions, something had changed. Something slow and imperceptible. It had snuck up on her.

“I—“ A raspy inhale distorted her response. She held back a cough, hand on her mouth, and stepped back. “I have to go.” 

“Clarissa?” Lady Lesso had a fleeting, barely noticeable, look of concern on her face.

“I’m fine. Tired.” She had said, nodding reassuringly. “I really have to go.”

Clarissa had rushed to get back to the good side of the castle but had only barely made it past the threshold when she was wracked by coughs. Her eyes were watering by the time it subsided, and she was holding a petal in her hand. A gladiolus. Thin, soft, and fragile, tinted with flecks of blood. 

All of a sudden, everything clicked. Her other symptoms were small, unimportant, and in no way abnormal, but coughing up flower petals? Well, that one couldn’t be explained away.

Hanahaki is rare, but her family grimoire is littered with examples. Some live, but… some don’t. The symptoms are easily recognizable if you know what you’re looking for, but she hadn’t been looking. Couldn’t have conceived this.

It was a frightening realization. A sudden death sentence, because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who these flowers are for.

She always expected Lady Lesso would be her undoing, but not like this. Never like this. For the past few weeks, she had been struggling. Balancing the symptoms of her illness with the expectations of her position is challenging. And Clarissa can’t deny it— the futility of the situation.

So right now, there’s something stuck in her throat. Something growing in her lungs. Something slowly killing her. And yet, as Clarissa slowly reaches her limit, she can’t summon up an ounce of anger or even regret. 

Love is a beautiful thing, after all.

~~~

I wrote this ages ago and found it again while looking through my drafts folder. Cleaned it up a bit for a short post.

#hanahaki #fanfic #dovesso #clarissa dovey

[believingispowerfulmagic]

One Night Stand

Summary:  When Regina is dared to kiss the cute blond man she has been eyeing all night, she gets a lot more than ever thought.

Chapter 1: AO3

Chapter 3: The Second Encounter

AO3

Excerpt:

"Good morning, Regina." Tink, her assistant, greeted her as Regina approached her office. "Have a good weekend?"

"Yes," Regina replied, grinning. "I had a very good weekend."

Tink raised an eyebrow. "Care to tell me about it?"

"Maybe later," Regina said, unlocking her office. "We have a field trip coming in soon and I don't want little ears to hear about it."

"Oh, you really have to tell me," Tink said, looking intrigued. "What happened that you don't want little ears to hear?"

Regina just winked in response before entering her office. As she placed her bag down on her desk, Tink called out: "You're evil, Regina Mills!"

"It's only a few hours," Regina told her. "You'll live."

She then sat down and started her computer, leaning back in her chair. "Have we heard from Mal?"

"No," Tink said. "But you know her. She'll show up five minutes before the kids arrive and absolutely dazzle them."

"I hope," Regina replied. Mal was her best instructor and had a special way of keeping students entertained. The only downside was that she sometimes didn't show up until the last minute, leaving Regina to panic for hours.

Her computer finished booting and she opened her email. She saw one from Mal and her stomach sank as she opened it. Cursing under her breath, she stood and moved toward the door. "Mal's not coming," she told Tink.

"What?" Her assistant twirled in her chair, facing her with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"She sent an email saying she needs to help her daughter with an emergency so she's going to be out of town," Regina replied, her heart speeding up. "Who can we call up last minute?"

Tink turned back to her desk. "Let me see if I can get someone."

"Thank you," Regina said, hoping someone would come in. "Let me know when you get someone."

She returned to her office, sitting at her desk as she continued checking her emails. Regina then pulled up the grant proposal she had been working on for the past week. If she managed to get it, they could complete much needed renovations to the museum and modernize their exhibits. Hopefully that would entice more people to visit so they wouldn't have to survive on just school and camp trips.

Knocking interrupted her and she looked up. Tink stood there and her dour expression made Regina's stomach sink. "Nobody is available, are they?" she asked.

"No," Tink replied. "They're all busy. Sorry."

"Great," Regina groaned. "Now what am I going to do?"

Tink hesitated before saying: "You could give the tour."

Regina wondered if she had misheard her assistant. "Me? I normally don't do tours or demonstrations. I'm more administrative."

"Yeah, but you can do them," Tink insisted. "I've seen you, Regina. You love all of this and I have no doubt you'll excel at both. You just have to give yourself a chance."

Glancing at the clock, her heart sank. It was too late to cancel with the school as the buses were about to arrive. She had no choice except to do the tour and pray she didn't ruin it. Nodding, Regina stood. "Alright. Let me go change into a lab coat."

"You know where they are," Tink said, grinning. "I'll go make sure everything is set up for you."

Regina nodded, taking a deep breath as she remained at her desk. "You can do this," she told herself. "You're just as qualified as any docent."

She stepped away from her desk and walked toward the closet where they kept the lab gear. Regina found a coat that fit her and located some safety goggles. After locating the gloves, she closed the closet door and started to walk toward the front of the museum. Through the door, she saw the first yellow school bus pull up, filled with children who were eager to enjoy their field trip.

It was showtime.

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #one night stand