#you ever get the idea to write something and then make yourself so very sad

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…��

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

[luveline]

omg if u ever get the chance would you write a follow up for the eddie and shy!reader where they confess? 🥺🩵

first part (u don't have to read if u don't want to) fem!shy!reader and best friend eddie confess, 1.6k

You flick a piece of popcorn off of your knee and smack Eddie square in the cheek. His neck snaps to the side to stare at you, tongue in his cheek in indignation. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

You smile mock-demurely. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

It's too close to flirting to deny at this point, but Eddie doesn't ever seem to notice. You've been friends for so long that this slow decline into playfulness feels normal. 

Eddie digs for the rogue piece of popcorn on the couch cushion behind his shoulders and prepares to flick it back. You cover your face. 

"Hey! Cheating, put your hands down." 

"No, you'll flick popcorn at me." 

The popcorn hits you in the hand. You drop your hands, but quickly retreat into yourself on the bean bag in apprehension as he approaches, a devilish smile playing on his pretty mouth. "Eddie, please don't–" You groan as he drops his weight on top of you, kneeing the back of your thigh hard. "You fucking–" 

"Remember when we first met? You never would've cussed at me," he interrupts, boldly putting his hands on you, one at your neck and the other against your cheek. 

You wiggle under him. "Get off." 

He takes a handful of popcorn from the bucket by your side. It smells sweet like taffy, and a kernel falls from his palm onto your shirt as he eats it. You flick it at him. 

"You're aggressively aggressive," he says through chews.

"You're heavier than you look." 

"When we first met," he says, poking your cheek with his pinky, you assume so as not to get popcorn crumbs on you, "you could barely look me in the eye." 

"That's just 'cos you're scruffy." 

"Funny." 

Eddie wipes his hand in his shirt and grabs your face again. You go still at his touch, trying to maintain a facade of calm you don't feel. 

"This is nicer. I love when you get all shy," —his voice softens slowly, like a meandering river calmed— "your smile… you smile when you're nervous, you know that?" 

You tamp your expression into neutrality. "Do not." 

"But it's nicer now that you're not nervous all the time. You're not telling me things, but I can handle it." 

"I tell you things," you mumble.

Eddie locks eyes with you. He rubs your jaw with his knuckles teasingly, before climbing off of you with an apologetic pat to your knee. His positioning had been less than comfortable. You sit up with a sigh, leg and chest aching. 

"You tell me some things," he says. 

"I tell you pretty much everything." 

"Liar." He crosses his legs, sitting applesauce by the mantle. Sunlight coming in from the kitchen behind him has his hair like silver at the edges where it falls around his face, his arms tense where he holds his own elbows. 

"I'm not lying, you know anything worth knowing about me." 

It's hard to make out, but you can tell you've upset him. You aren't sure how, but he goes rigid, looking away from you and toward the TV. His side profile knocks the breath out of you, lashes long where they kiss the skin beneath his brows, his nose a strong line you'd like to reach out and trace. 

"Eddie–" 

"It's alright, I didn't mean anything by it." 

The bean bag groans as you kneel on the rug by Eddie's legs. You look around helplessly for aid, and when none comes you drag the popcorn toward you, eating a mouthful morosely. 

"I'm sorry for being weird, I just…" Eddie leans back on one arm and whines. "I think I'm getting my meriod." 

"That's not funny." 

He puts a hand on his stomach. "Do I look bloated to you?" 

"I don't know where to start with that one." 

Eddie falls onto his back. His act doesn't last very long, and after a few moments he's frowning at the TV again. You look down into the popcorn kernels, white and yellow and brown and fragrant when you give the tub a little shake. You push it away.

"Don't be sad, Eds. If there's something you want me to tell you, I'll tell you." 

You're aflame as you say it, because why the fuck would you say that? There's no way he'll want to know what you're afraid to tell him, he'll never ask, but still. It's like offering to jump into turbulent waters. 

"I just don't want you holding onto stuff, that's all. Kinda breaks my heart thinking you're a bag of secrets." 

"What if it's stuff you don't wanna hear?" you ask with a dry mouth.

"I always wanna hear it if it's coming from you. Can't promise I'll like it, but what, you think I'm gonna care?" 

"It's hard to say." 

He gestures for you to lay down with him. 

You set your shoulder by his and lay down cautiously. Your thigh bumps into his. A line of rings catches the light where his hand covers his ribs. 

"I don't want to tell you something about me and have you see me differently," you say slowly, each word strung to the other clumsily as you piece your sentence together. "I like how you treat me now." 

"What if I swear things won't change?" 

"I don't…" He sounds like he knows you like him. Impossible to describe, only that you know the truth, so he must know the truth too. "You can't, really. Promise me that." 

He turns his head to yours, his hair dragging gentle across your shoulder as he moves. You feel his gaze like a flame on your cheek. 

"I swear," he murmurs. "Nothing will change. Nothing you don't want to change." 

You turn toward him, heart in your mouth, meeting his baby brown eyes head on. You shift your head against the floor to take the weight of it off of your ear, your chin lifting subtly. 

This is going to rip your chest open. "I think I'm," —Eddie leans forward, he closes the gap, "in love–" 

You can't finish your sentence. Like a magnetic pull, Eddie fits his lips against the seam of your own and you close it, alarmed, not sure how to respond. He cuts your face softly and pushes up, encouraging you to kiss back. 

"Wait," you say, eyes painfully open. 

Eddie immediately moves away from you. "Sorry," he says, his eyes just as open, twice as wide, "was I not supposed– you're not talking about me?" 

"I'm in love with you," you say. 

"Yeah, I guessed?"

"I don't know why you're being cranky with me, we both know I won't be able to say it again." 

Your throat totally closes as he rubs your cheek, like there's dirt under his thumb. "I've been thinking about kissing you for months, sweetheart," he says. He looks like he might say more, but he leans in again. 

You sigh at his touching, his gentle kiss. He smiles into you, sitting up to kiss down with slightly more force. Eddie takes the lead, cradling your face in hands you've never felt so adoringly tender before. His hair starts to tip onto your cheek like strands of silk. 

"I think you'll be okay," he says, breaking the kiss to pant in breath. He rubs the tip of his nose into yours. 

"There's popcorn in my teeth, please don't kiss me again," you say quietly. 

"I love you. I don't care if we swap kernels for the next hour."

"Hour?" you ask, though you're thrumming with a strange anticipation. The reality hasn't dropped, but it's falling fast. 

"I've been waiting months," he reminds you, lips at your cheek as he needles his arms under your shoulders. He hugs you. "Aw, sweetheart. I've been seeing you try to tell me now for months, the whole time thinking I couldn't get any more obsessed with you." 

"You're obsessed with me? You knew?" you ask. 

"Don't freak out." 

"I'm gonna." 

"Okay, fine, freak out." 

You hug him, burying your nose in his hair. He's soft, and warm, and he's heavy where he leans on your chest, but it's perfect. You wonder if this is the precipice of forever now, if you get to have him in your arms like this all the time. You freak out. 

"You're in love with me?" you ask. 

"Sickeningly." 

"I think my face is on fire." 

Eddie peels back to look you over. "You're melting," he says agreeably. "But lucky you, your best friend gives the coolest kisses ever." 

"You're gonna make it worse." 

"Can I?" he asks. 

"I have popcorn in my teeth," you whine again. 

Eddie knows you better than anyone in the whole wide world. He demands you open your mouth for kernel extraction and you burst into squeamish giggles, squirming out from his arms and whacking your head on the seat of the couch. Eddie chases after you to start a wrestling match you can't win. He doesn't break his promise —the things you don't want to change stay the same. And the things you do want to change? They're perfect, even if it all tastes overwhelmingly of butter and toffee. 

-

i hope you enjoyed reading!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[lovelettersfromluna]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Sweet Little Lies *ੈ✩‧₊˚

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Being on tour with someone you’ve been ignoring for two months is hard…but doable

an: AHHHHHH!!! I am so excited to finally give you guys the second part of The Perfect Girl! I can confidently say that the vibe of this one has been so much fun to write and think about ideas for, and it makes me so happy that you’ve been enjoying it! This one is pretty short, im sorry but! the next part will be longer, fluffier and much smuttier hehe. Anyways, I hope you guys like this part too. 🖤 (Also yes I know I posted this before the poll was up but y'all saw how it was going im sorry I am an impatient woman)

Warnings: 18+!!! Eventual smut, Ellie is selfish point blank period, reader is extremely sad, some making out but doesn't lead to much, ANGST!!!!, this one is pretty short so not many warnings hehe. let me know if I missed anything pleaseeee.

Part 1 can be read here!

The rest of the tour was…rough.

After the night at the club, the silent treatment that you had for Ellie had gone from simply ignoring her, to pretending like she didn’t even exist.

Shows were awkward, practice was awkward, being in a fucking band with her was awkward. Not to mention the very noticeable divide that it put between you and the other members.

The entire situation made it hard to talk to anyone. It made you feel extremely isolated, because you had convinced yourself that no one could possibly understand, especially not the other two men in your band, so you barely spoke to anyone.

In return of that, the other members found it hard to talk to Ellie. Because ever since you had pulled away, things were just no longer the same.

The late nights hanging out in someone’s hotel room stopped, partying after shows were done without you, and the only times anyone truly ever saw you was when you had to perform. When you were done, you’d quietly go back to your hotel room to sulk.

The tour ended that way, with you silently pulling all of your things from the back of the tour bus once you had returned home and catching a cab back to your apartment in the city, going against the tradition that you all had done every time when coming back home, which was going to your favorite local bar and trying to out drink each other before stumbling home in the cold.

So now, you were home, still ignoring everyone.

It was hard for you. Because the girl you’ve looked up to for so long, wanted for so long, had said such mean things about you. And you weren’t an idiot, because never for a second did you ever think that Ellie could ever want you the way that you wanted her, even when you were wrapped up in her arms at night, or when she whispered stupid jokes in your ear whenever you were sad, her lips ghosting over your skin, you never once thought that you could have her. Because you weren’t a kid with a great big imagination, with hopes and dreams that you’d one day be swept off of your feet by her.

You knew deep down that it would never work out, and you were okay with that. You had long accepted that your love was unrequited, and as much as it hurt you to see her date girls she’d only known for a few weeks, and fuck countless groupies every night, you never let it get to you.

But hearing her say what she said, hearing those words fall from her pretty lips….it was like something was eating you from the inside out, and the love that you had for Ellie couldn’t outweigh the pain that she brought you.

And you couldn’t fucking do it anymore.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The decision you had made didn’t come without heartache. You cried, you screamed, you threw things, ruining your room entirely, your rage and sadness burned you so deeply, because in all of this you still blamed yourself, and not her.

It had been almost a month since you got back from tour, and you could count on your hands how many times you left your apartment. Dylan and Charlie came by the visit a few times, and their apologetic smiles somehow pissed you off even further, because it made you feel small and frail, like you’d never be able to come back from this on your own.

You appreciated them, and you enjoyed the times they were around because it gave you an out from thinking about Ellie.

But all good things would come to an end.

That’s how you found yourself at Dylan’s apartment. He was shocked when you showed up, having not seen you outside of your apartment in who knows how long.

He knew that whatever it was you were there for, was serious.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ellie felt like she was seeing red.

She slammed the door to her car once she arrived at your apartment building, her nostrils flaring as she breathed hard. She couldn’t even stop for a moment to think about what she was doing, or if you’d even be home.

But after her phone call with Dylan, she didn’t care. She needed to see you.

After tour had ended, she had found her way to your place a few times. The first time she had a bouquet of red roses gripped between her hand, which after 10 minutes of standing outside your door, she took home and threw in the trash. The second time she came by with a box of cookies from your favorite bakery, which she ended up angrily shoving into Charlie’s chest when she came back home and he was at her apartment waiting for her to teach him a new guitar riff. The third time she simply slipped a hand written note under your door about how sorry she was, which you had promptly ripped up once you saw the small ‘from: Ellie :’)’ written on the front.

That was the last time she had showed up, figuring that you’d come around whenever you had cooled down from the entire situation. What she didn’t expect though, was for it to go on for months after tour had ended.

But she was done, she was over this and she was over you ignoring her.

She knocked on your door loudly, staring knuckles banging on the wood of your front door, making you frown as the loud noise echoed throughout your apartment. You sighed, opening the door harshly.

“I told you I didn’t want one of your fucking pamphlets! If you don’t leave I’m calling the fucking-“ your words were cut off, eyes going wide as you looked up and caught eye of Ellie.

A very angry Ellie.

You sighed tiredly, already trying to close the door on her. “Go home Ellie…” you mumbled out. But her palm was pressing against your door and stopping you from closing it on her.

“You’re quitting the fucking band?” Her voice is harsh, and her words make you freeze as you stop pushing your door closed.

You figured word would’ve gotten out sooner or later…you just preferred later rather than sooner.

You let out a sigh, one of your hands coming up to tuck a strand of your hair back before you give her a half shrug. “I told Dylan not to tell you until the end of the month..” you mumble out, your eyes staring at your sock clad feet.

The second you confirm it, you’re confirming Ellie’s greatest nightmare, and she’s pushing past you and walking into your apartment before you can even tell her that you don’t want her in that, and that she needed to leave.

There’s no use in fighting her, because she’s already there and she’s clearly very pissed off, so you simply close your door behind you and lock it. You figure that if this is the last conversation you’ll have with Ellie, it might as well be this one.

Ellie is pacing back and forth in your small living room, hands in her hips as she tries to get a grip of everything that she’s learned within the past few hours. She wants it to be a lie, she wanted to come to your apartment and have you tell her it was all a prank, and she’d finally hear that pretty laugh of yours when you too made up and cuddled on your couch.

But you weren’t, you weren’t giving Ellie any of that and it made her feel even more pissed off.

“Ellie…” you mumbled softly, reaching out and trying to grab her arm gently, trying to calm the girl down so you could explain.

Ellie pulled her arm away the second you tried reaching out for her. The soft tone of yours was all she had wanted for the last three months, hearing the way you’d soothe her when she became too consumed in her feelings.

But Ellie felt betrayed, she felt like she was being left behind, like you were throwing her away and leaving her like everyone else did.

You were abandoning her.

“No! Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t talk to me for three months and the first thing I hear about you doesn’t even come directly from you? You didn’t even have the fucking decency to sit us down and tell all of us…you told Dylan and you had him deliver your message to us like he’s your fucking bitch” she spat.

You knew she was mad, you knew she’d come to your apartment in a rage when she found out. You had prepared for it, you prepared for all the nasty things Ellie would say to you.

But you didn’t expect any of this..

You inhaled deeply, trying your best not to let her words affect you.

“Look, Ellie…I just…it took me a long time to figure out what I needed to do to feel better. I don’t…it just isn’t working for me anymore-“ she cut you off, her hurtful words coming back with a vengeance.

“Bull fucking shit.” She spits out, and her tone is enough to make you flinch. Her words are cutting into you just like they had that night in her hotel room, and you’re trying to find something in you to not lose your fucking mind right now.

“You’re leaving because of me, because of something I said. You’re…you’re leaving behind something fucking amazing because I hurt your feelings. I don’t know how many times I have to say it! But I’m fucking sorry! Okay? I feel awful for what I said and I wish I could take it back but I can’t, and I’m sorry, but you’re being weak for leaving because of it” she yells out.

And everything stops….because all you can hear from anything shes just said…

Is that you, are weak.

And it’s like some sort of fucking phenomenon or something, because you suddenly feel like you’re being transported to that night, and you’re standing behind a wall, listening to Ellie laugh about how…how fucking unwanted you are.

And you don’t hold back anymore. You’re done holding back.

“Yes Ellie, are you even listening to yourself right now? Have you for one fucking second not been a selfish asshole to think about how any of this has affected me?” Your voice is tired, and it sounds like you’ve been internally fighting with yourself to keep these words inside.

“You hurt me Ellie! If you’re so sorry you said those things, then why did you fucking say them? Is it so hard to just say you don’t see me that way? To be a sensible human fucking being and not trying to dig me into a deeper hole than you already fucking have?” Your voice is growing louder and louder, and you’re slowly closing the space between the both of you as you shout at her.

When you’re right in front of her, your chest almost pressed against hers, your voice is quiet, and it almost sounds like you’re whispering to her for a moment.

“I never once believed that you could ever want me…but saying the things that you said about me, and then sabotaging me whenever I’m trying to live my fucking life…I can’t do it anymore Ellie…I can’t be around you anymore..”

Ellie almost fucking whimpers, because the tone of your voice is nearly enough to bring her to tears.

You aren’t even fighting anymore, you’re just tired. You’re practically begging her to let you go because she’s just held you in her hands for too long, never giving you the chance to grow and become something more than what you are.

Ellie feels it, just by the look in your eyes, she can feel that this will be the last chance she has to tell you, to come clean and stop lying to herself and to you.

Shes being given one last chance, so she knows she can’t mess it up.

“I’m in love with you.” She deadpans.

You roll your eyes, walking away from the girl. You had no time for games, and that surely meant Ellie falsely confessing her love for you just to keep you in the band.

You nodded your head towards your door as you watched her. “Nice try Ellie. I’m sure you’ll be able to charm some other girl enough to replace me as lead singer by the end of the month. It’s time for you to go” you sigh out.

And Ellie is practically whining as she makes her way over to you, towering over you as she pleads.

“I…I’m not lying…fuck id never lie about this. Leave the band if you want, I don’t care, I just…” she grabs your hand, bringing it up to lay over her heart as she sighs “I need you to know how sorry I am..and how I feel about you…” she sighs out.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as you looked down at your hand pressed against her chest, rolling your eyes as you used the placement to push her away from you.

“Ellie, cut it out. Seriously. I heard what you said about me, I heard all of it. Im not your type, remember? I look like a kicked puppy everytime you’re with another girl” you sighed out as you pushed past her, walking off into your living room before plopping onto the couch with a loud huff.

Ellie was groaning softly, hearing her own words being relayed to her in your voice made her heart break even more than it had before. She followed behind you, sitting on the couch and reaching for you.

“I..I didn’t mean any of that! I panicked!” her words catch your attention, but she groans when she sees the unamused look you’re giving her.

“I swear…just…” She tried, pleading for just a bit of your time before she was getting on her knees in front of you, pushing your legs apart so that her body was pressed against the edge of the couch, and you had no choice but to look at her.

“I’m an idiot, okay? The last thing I wanted was for Charlie and Dylan to tease me about having a massive fucking crush on you…I just…you’re too good for me, I’m not…I know that you deserve better than me…but I can’t help the way I feel about you. It eats away at me at night and it makes it hard to sleep and it doesn’t stop unless you’re around” She rambled, her eyebrows knitted together as she spoke.

Her closeness made your cheeks burn red, and you tried to keep your face down because you knew the longer you’d look into her eyes, the easier it would be for her to make you fold. You frowned as you shook your head, and before you could even speak, she was already talking.

“Please…please I’m so sorry baby…it’s killing me…not being with you is fucking killing me. I’ll leave the band, I’ll pack up and you can find a new guitarist to take my place just..” her words died down, and her fingers were placed gently under your chin to force you to look at her, and you almost lost your breath because..

Ellie was crying.

And not only was Ellie crying, but Ellie was crying for you.

Her green eyes were rimmed red, and her eyelashes were clumping together, and your insides twisted because all you wanted to do was to hold her, pull her into your chest and tell her that it was okay, that you were okay, and that you could be together.

But you couldn’t. Not after what she did.

“Ellie I…I can’t…” you mumbled softly. You opened your mouth to explain further, but you found that you couldn’t speak.

Because Ellie’s like were pressed firmly against yours.

Her long fingers were cupping either side of your face, keeping you close as her lips moved against yours. You gasped softly, trying to break away from her, but she used it as an opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth, and from that point on, you melted into her completely.

You moaned softly, and Ellie was already pushing you back to lay against the couch, her body hovering over yours as she kissed you so deeply, so passionately, you could feel all of the love she had for you seeping into your mouth.

It felt amazing, having you pressed up against her, whining into her mouth and breathlessly begging for more. It was like every dream Ellie had ever had of you was finally coming true…

But she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that came with it.

If this is what Ellie had always wanted, why was it that she felt like she was doing something wrong? Why did it loom over her like a dark cloud, soaking into her core and making her feel terrible about doing this to you…distracting you from everything she’s done with sweet kisses and breathy moans.

She wanted it…god she wanted it more than anything

But this wasn’t right.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she gripped your waist, moaning softly as she pulled away from you. You frown in confusion, staring up at her and searching for what might be wrong, what you had done to make her stop.

“What? What is it Els?” And Ellie swears she’s never heard something so sweet, the nickname you had for her like the sweetest melody she’d ever heard.

She sighed, gently pulling away from you as she shook her head. “This isn’t right…” she mumbled softly. She sits down across from you, her legs spread with her elbows resting on her knees, hunched over a bit.

You frown as you watch her, sitting up and adjusting your tank top, suddenly feeling extremely exposed underneath the girls presence. “Do you…not want me?” You mumble softly. Ellie’s eyes are nearly bulging out of her head as she quickly turns to you, grabbing your face and pulling you close as she shakes her head quickly.

“No! God no I….you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of angel…it’s just…” she sighs, her voice raspy before she starts again. “This isn’t how this is supposed to go…you’re worth so much more than what I’ve given to you…I’ve been mean, and selfish and...And I come here expecting you to just forgive me and...and give yourself to me and...it isn't right.." She sighs out. You pout softly as you listen to her, and you are suddenly remembering all of the things that Ellie said, and you can't help but agree that the wounds are still fresh.

She notices how deep in thought you are, and she uses her strong hands to grip your thighs and pull you so you're straddling her lap. She licks her lips, her hands toying with the plush skin of your thighs as you both stay there for a moment, before she breaks the silence.

"Im not going to convince you that you need to stay in the band...if you really want to leave, thats your decision..but..." She sighs softly.

"Let me prove to you that you're what I want...give me one chance to do this the right way, and I promise princess...you won't regret it.." Her voice is raspy, and it reminds you of all the times she would talk to you while you both laid in bed together and you couldn't sleep. It reminds you of all the times Ellie called you on the phone in the middle night, too high and too needy, just so she could hear your voice.

And it reminds you of how in love you are with Ellie Williams..

Your hands slowly go to rest on her shoulders, your fingers toying with the ends of her hair at the nape of her neck, and you can swear you can see the girl visibly glow the second you give her a nod. In an instant, she's pulling you closer and pressing kisses to your neck, in spots that she knows you're extremely ticklish at. You nudge her gently to stop before you both settle down.

"Thank you angel...I promise...I'll do right by you.." She mumbles softly, her pretty green eyes staring at your plush lips before she leans in, pressing the softest, most gentle kiss to them, almost as if she were afraid she'd break you all over again.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[grippingbeskar]

old partners, new plans

— joel miller x fem!reader

—warnings: explicit content minors dni (oral m receiving, mxf) swearing, very minor dom!joel but it’s like not an established thing

—a/n: back at it!!! hope you guys enjoy! i love writing for joel sm. he so sexy <3

“That was not the deal.” You growl, squaring your shoulders.

“Deals change.” Is all the reply you get, Joel still leaning against the frame of your door. You can hardly see him there, the dark of night shrouding him in something akin to mystery— at least, he would be mysterious if you hadn’t already seen every inch of him.

“You know that’s not fair, Joel. I’ve waited ages for this opening, and I’m fucked without the pills to trade.” You take a step towards him and lower your voice, knowing people have been hung in the centre of town for even thinking about leaving, let alone having an entire plan like you did. Or had. “I need to get to them.”

“You don’t even know they’re out there.” You bite back a laugh, turning away from him. You hear the click of the door behind you, and Joel sounds louder as he finally steps into your house. “This is a bad idea— always has been. You got no proof, no solid plan… you’re fucked with or without the pills.”

“Oh, because you’re so sure Tommy’s still alive? That plan is so well thought out— huh?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not! My family is out there, and they’re waiting for me. I know they are. I’ve had this plan for months— months, Joel! You know what this means, and you choose now of all times to hold out on me?!” You shout now, head under his chin staring up at him.

“I’m not holdin’ out, there’s nothin’ I can do about it. My guy ain’t getting back for a week, and I can’t just pull strings I don’t have.” Your heart plummets. The look in his face seems genuine— broken, sad… but it doesn’t make you any less angry. “I can’t help you.”

“But you were fine taking my batteries and tools. And my route to the outside for the last six months. All that you were happy to take me up on, but now it’s time to pay and you’re suddenly empty? I don’t buy it, Joel.” You say his name harshly, with none of the need and honey-like sweetness you remember from those few months of bliss before you told him you were getting out. Before he iced you out completely. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. As what— some kind of pay back?”

“You know that’s not—“

“Why? Because I’m not sleeping with you anymore? That’s fucking low, even for you. And you are the one that stopped that, not me, so don’t blame your blue balls on me just cause you can’t deal with the inevitable.” You suck in a quick breath, wishing you could take the words back.

Oh, he’s fucking angry now. Before he was letting you rant, letting you yell at him because he knew he was in the wrong but something about your comment made him flip.

Neither of you had mentioned what happened. How that night, when you told him you were leaving, he just got up and left your bed, never coming back. Sure, you were blunt and maybe a little harsh when you told him you were going, but he didn’t even look at you for a week. Only when you went to him to ask for the last piece of your escape plan, he managed to look at you, but even then he was short and harsh like you had been. Like you’d done something to him personally— left him cold and alone in a giant bed, words you never got to say still stuck in your throat. How he never gave you a chance to finish, to explain, to ask him to come with you. Find both of your families.

It was the first time you’d really spoken at all since then— conversations that used to be never ending and comforting turning to surface level communication, only speaking when necessary. Sure, you were shouting at each other right now but at least you were talking. Anything was better than silence.

“Don’t you ever fucking say that to me. Don’t you dare tell me I had anything to do with you leavin’. You did this to yourself— to us.” He didn’t yell, but you sort of wish he had, because the low, growling tone of his voice was somehow ten times worse. “You were the one who wanted to leave. I never—“

“You don’t have to remind me.” You don’t let him finish the thought, instead cutting him off and diverting your eyes to the fists at his side, straining with fury. His knuckles were bruised, either from work or a side gig he didn’t tell you about. He never told you about anything anymore.

“I got no pills. I’ll dump ‘em in the old spot when they come in. Try not to get yourself killed ‘til then.” He turns to leave, and you feel your stomach flip. This will be the last time you see him if he comes through. The last time you spoke.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Hey— I didn’t meant that, alright? You really want to leave it like this?”

“You’re going. Probably gonna die out there. What’s the point in talking about it?” You want to yell, want to fight him on it but he wouldn’t even listen— “You’re signin’ your death sentence outside of these walls alone. Don’t blame me for not giving you the push.”

“Joel, just wait a second.” His hand stills as it moved to grab the door. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you like this. I never wanted to leave you. If you just let me—“

“You made that bed weeks ago.” He stares ahead, never letting you finish and still not turning around to look at you. Your heart freezes at the thought of him walking out that door. You want to leave— but you never wanted to do it alone. Even after weeks of silence and rough edges, you’d take any time with him over… well, anything.

“Let me unmake it. Just… please don’t walk out on me, Joel.” You take a few tentative steps, gauging the progress you’ve made. His spine straightens when your fingers dance up his back, gentle and slow. You catch the bottom of his shirt and slip under, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm and the way he sighs— as if your touch relieves him. “I hated how I went about… things. I never meant to have it turn out like this. Us ignoring each other.”

“Well, that’s what happened.” His head turns ninety degrees, eyes looking over his shoulder as you walk your fingers higher. His shoulder blades, always full of tension, relax under your hand, and you trail your other hand up to find the other, watching his eyes flutter closed as you dig your palms into the muscle there.

“I know. It was unfair of me to spring it on you that night, and I shouldn’t of said the things I did. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything, but he sighs again as you continue to manipulate his muscle. You wish he’d take his shirt off so you could do it properly, but this would do for now. “But you never let me finish— that day.”

“I heard…fuck. I heard what I needed to hear.” His head drops down, chin to his chest as you step up on your toes and massage him in slow, steady circles. You hadn’t touched him in so long, you were nearly burning with just this intimacy alone, but you had to bide your time. Coax him in slowly, like a scared lone wolf— tempt him closer with paced, quiet movements until you could get your chance.

“Let me fix it. Fix this.” You say softly, your heart slamming against your chest.

“You’re still leaving. Can’t fix that.” His voice strains, and you run your hands lower to dig into the muscle of his back.

“Yeah.” He sighs again at your answer. “And you still hate me for it.”

“Yeah.” He copies you, and you try to ignore how much the simple word affects you.

“But we still have right now.”

“What’s the— shit, that’s good.” He shuffles back into your touch. “What the point?”

“Cause I can make you feel so much better than this. Don’t you remember?” You are nearly begging, but if memory serves you right, a few ‘pleases’ seem to make him do just about anything. “This is just my hands, but my mouth… my—“

“Yeah. Yeah, I fucking remember. Think about it every night.” You run your hands up again, but this time take his shirt with you and bring it up over his head. He moves, finally, grabbing the collar and shucking it off his shoulders, letting the fabric pool at his feet in front of the door.

“Let me make it up to you. Please, Joel.” He groans when you press harder, feeling how his muscles have gone nearly placid under your touch now. “Even if it’s just tonight. If you still hate me, you can leave and not look back, but I… I can’t stand this thing we have going on. The quiet. I can’t do it. Please.”

He turns around, towering over you as a mass of unkept, wild curls and a burning need in his eyes. It makes you smile, that look in his eye— because it’s been so long since he’s looked at you with anything other than hatred. Now, he needs you. Needs what only you can give him, and even if this could be the last night of it, you couldn’t help but think it would last forever with how heavy his gaze was.

“You wanna make it up to me?” He’s tilting his head in question, watching your hands move up and down his torso in teasing strokes.

“Please, Joel.” You see it splinter, his final plank of resolve shredding and dispersing on your floor under the weight of your words. Your voice nearly cracks with desperation— you need it as badly as he does.

“Get on your knees.” You blink at him, your fingers trailing down his toned chest before nodding and obeying his command readily. Joel was always a giver— always spending hours on you and you alone, and he fucking loved it— but tonight you had all but begged him to take. Lose a little bit of that control he clings so tightly to, watch the tension loose from his shoulders as he forgets about everything but you.

You trail your lips along his lower stomach as you sink to your knees, eyes never leaving his— ones that have practically turned onyx black as he watches your path, chest rising and falling rapidly. He moves his leg before you hit the ground, and it’s not until your bare knees settle into something a little softer than hard wood floor that you realise he’s kicked his shirt under you.

Even when he acted the part of hating you— he never stopped thinking of you.

Your fingers shake as they fumble with his belt, Joel making no move to help you as you struggle with the loops. When you finally break it free, Joel’s hand reaches down and threads your hair through his fingers. His thumb trails the highest point of your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter as you involuntarily nuzzle into his touch. It’s comforting and warm, and the intimacy of him knowing how you like to be touched even on your face has your cheeks burning. You think you catch him smile at you, and then your focus snaps back to the sight right at your eye-line when you pull his boxers and jeans down in one go.

“Missed your cock, Joel. Fuck.” You are nearly mesmerised at him in front of you, words spilling out as he stands in front of you completely naked while you remain fully clothed. He groans, head rolling back as you wrap your hand around his base.

“I bet you did. Can remember how loud you used to be— I fucking loved that.” Even if the compliment is purely physical, compared to how little you’ve gotten from him it boosts your ego through the roof. You can’t wait any longer, wrapping your lips around the tip of his straining cock. “That’s it, darlin’.”

You don’t tease him, but you do start slow. Despite how much you want to suffocate on him, have him fuck out any of that hate he’s still holding so he can’t think of anything but your mouth, you know he likes it to start slow. It’s like he’s denying himself, even here, that he doesn’t deserve the instant gratification. Like he wants to suffer through it first— a little bit of pain to accompany the overwhelming pleasure that follows.

“Fuck, you’re good. Just like that.” He praises, his hand sneaking back to the nape of your neck. Not pushing, but instead gathering your hair and using his fist as a make shift ponytail. “Missed your mouth.”

“Mm?” You make a muffled noise, hoping to God he keeps telling you how much he missed any part of you. Like he dragged through the last few weeks as poorly as you did. You were already fizzling in your stomach, your thighs clenching together with every swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.

“Thought about you every day. Every— fuck. Nothin’ gets me off like you. Ha-ah, shit.” You take him to the back of your throat, gagging a little but loving every choked sound sound that stutters out of Joel’s mouth. “Had to fuck my fist thinkin’ about your pretty little face. Fuckin’ hated myself for it.”

You speed up, wanting nothing more than for him to yank you upwards and bend you over the counter, but you’ll take what you can get. The salty taste of him mixes on your tongue, and it’s always so messy giving him head, but he goes feral for it. He’s watching you now, the words punched out of his chest as you move your hand to match your mouth, and you know the tears in your eyes and strands of hair across your face just send him wild.

He says your name how you remember, with all the sweet and drawn out inflections his accent gives it. You take him deeper, indulging a low and dormant urge to please him clawing it’s way to the front of your brain. He groans again, the hand at the back of your head pressing just slightly— a sign he’s losing that last bit of self control.

“Fuck— stop, baby. Stop.” He splutters out, and you draw yourself back slowly. He keeps his hand in your hair, looking down at you possessively. His chest is moving rapidly, trying to catch his breath from where you had him so close. Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to why he didn’t let you do the one thing you really wanted to right now. Make him feel good.

“What’s wrong?” You say softly, and he hauls you upward, barely giving you time to find your footing before he surges forward and kisses you.

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the hunger behind it making you stumble a few steps to where you know the bed is. He wastes no time, tasting himself on your tongue and taking you with him down onto the mattress. He pulls your shirt off first, kissing his way down to where your hips are still covered by sweat pants.

It’s here he takes his time, watching you writhe with impatience as he slowly draws the fabric down. He kisses your hipbones as they are revealed, the gentle touches making your head spin. He was meant to hate you— meant to be fucking you hard and fast just one more time to get it out of his system, so that you felt like what you two had could end on some kind of high. You owed him that much.

But this? The way his hands were so soft and gentle— practically caressing along your sides and over your thighs. The care behind his movements, the way he looked at you… it wasn’t how you used to fuck. This wasn’t hard and dirty, not scratching an itch or quenching a thirst— this had something more behind it. You knew it, and by the way he smiled over you, he did too.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers against your skin, the rough hair on his cheeks tingling the softness of your inner thighs. He says it quietly, like you weren’t supposed to hear it, but you do, and your body floods with heat.

“Joel.” You whimper, your underwear dragging down your legs before he crawls back up your body. “Joel, I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You feel him against you, the head of his cock dragging up and down causing your hips to twitch every time. “You always get so wet from doing that, don’t you?”

“Just from you. It’s just you, Joel.” You whimper, and his face crumbles in front of you. He bends to kiss you again, the air in your lungs sucked out leaving you breathless. He’s handling you with such care— like he still does. Care.

When he pushes into you, you both sigh, Joel dropping onto his forearms caging you under him. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck— teeth dragging along your collar bone with each slow thrust.

“You always feel so good. Can’t live without this, baby.” He’s almost whining, grinding into you with so much strength you hear the bed creak with each move. He’s reaching every nerve you have, crackling each one with a searing pleasure that’s only ever associated with him.

“N-neither. Please— please, Joel.” You beg for something, anything he’d give you, and his head moves to press his forehead to yours. His hips stutter, eyes half lidded but focused on you.

“Don’t leave. I’ll… god, so good. Don’t go.” He fucks you a little harder, like he’s trying to prove a point. Trying to convince you— but he doesn’t have to.

“Come with me.” You whisper, hands threading into his hair. You tug hard, making him groan.

“Baby.” He says lowly, voice grating and strained. Every thrust of his hips hurtles you closer to release, one of his hands snaking down your body to circle your clit. You can’t talk anymore, the only noises you can make are loud moans followed by choked out versions of his name. “Fuck— fuck, I can’t last. I can’t..”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pleasure rolling over you from your fingertips to your toes, the weight of Joel’s body keeping you firmly secured on the mattress. It’s like the heavy press of his warm skin multiplies the feeling, nails digging into the flesh of his back.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and it only takes a few more strokes of Joel’s cock and he’s cumming with you, both of you clinging to each other as you try to draw out the others high. Even when you’re supposed to be fighting, each of you are doing anything and everything for each other.

Joel still feels warm above you, keeping himself inside as long as he can stand before he pulls out slowly. You whimper from the loss, but he shuts you up with a deep, desperate kiss. It’s lazy and meaningful— teeth and tongues clashing from how hard he’s pressing on top of you.

Both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but neither can find the strength to pull your mouths away from each other. You know once you do, it was meant to be over— but it couldn’t be. There wasn’t going to be a version of this story where you missed out on the only good, real thing you’ve had in a long time just because you didn’t have the guts to repeat yourself. You pull back from his mouth as hard as it is, and he groans a little in frustration of having to chase you.

“Joel…” Your hands find their way up to his face, holding him so close that your noses bump together. “I meant it. Come with me.”

“Darlin’, I gotta… Tommy needs me to find him. I…” He looks you up and down again, eyes catching on the little hickeys he’s left over your chest and neck, and you think he might be considering the possibility of leaving everything behind and just following you despite it.

But you’d never ask him to. You had this thought out— and if he’d just listened to you the first time, he would already know.

“I know. We can find him. The pills— I’m trading it for a full tank of gas for a car I repaired. It’s just outside the safe zone.” He shifts up, thighs still straddling over your waist. “We can find him, find my family.”

“You fixed a… of course you did. Fixed a fucking car right under their nose.” He shakes his head, laughing before leaning down and smothering you in a suffocating kiss. He’s still smiling when he pulls away, tucking your body into his chest. “Jesus. You’re unbelievable.”

“I would of told you.” You say, not having the nerve to look up at him. “That night— I tried to tell you. We have people that need us, but I need you, too.”

“Mm.” He says, burying his face into your hair. You can feel the smile in the way he hums, his hands grabbing at your sides and holding you closer. “Need you, too.”

“What was that?” You try to turn and look up at him, a teasing smirk on your face but he doesn’t let you. “The Joel Miller— needs me?”

“Need your car.” He grumbles and you laugh harder, your legs tangling together in a comforting knot of limbs. “When do we leave?”

“When you get the pills.” He hums again.

“Tomorrow. I’ll get ‘em tomorrow.”

“Oh, you fucking asshole. You were getting them the whole time, weren’t you?” He still refuses to let you move, strong arms keeping your bodies together. He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and nods before his breathing starts to slow.

You wanted to turn and see his face when he said that— that he needed you. But as you feel him go limp behind you, you figure you’ll get enough time to stare at his face when you drive across the state to get Tommy, and whatever comes after that. You might not know what comes next, but whatever it is, you feel a hell of a lot better knowing it’ll be with him.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #joel miller x y/n #tlou #tlou joel miller

[amomentsescape]

hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)

I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.

(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)

Slashers with Mermaid! Reader

Yandere! Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).

Freddy Krueger

Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life

He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death

You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world

Your dynamic is pretty ideal too

Whenever you sleep, you can visit him

And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi

He does this quite often, in fact

He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried

You're his

He doesn't trust anyone being around you

Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately

He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world

He can create the perfect environment for you

Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires

Which hopefully it does

Since he isn't willing to wait much longer

Michael Myers

He never thought creatures like you actually existed

But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment

He visits more often then you think

He's always around, watching

You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from

He enjoys watching you swim and just relax

But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you

There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill

But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy

He hates seeing you touch other people

And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise

He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times

You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason

But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear

He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before

He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current

But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness

He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories

But he knows that's nearly impossible

He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest

You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job

He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you

He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?

Thomas Hewitt

In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you

But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten

And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others

He was kind to you

And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can

You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells

He wears every single one of them

Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you

But Thomas can only take so much

Why can't you be closer?

He knows the family would love you

And he could make you so happy

His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it

He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you

He's just got to be patient

Bubba Sawyer

His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days

But he just couldn't help it

You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side

He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it

He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else

That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!

That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again

He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it

This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else

You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty

And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same

He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it

Brahms Heelshire

He hates this dynamic between you two

He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else

No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him

He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop

He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does

It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times

He wants that too, so desperately

Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days

Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you

He insists it's to keep you safe

In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while

And you can thank Brahms for that

The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them

He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him

Norman Bates

It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real

He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream

He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters

But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once

He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster

Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7

He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you

He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times

He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together

Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough

Billy Loomis

Doesn't tell a single soul about you

Not even Stu

And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people

He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you

Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water

Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales

He just thinks you're all around incredible

But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation

He wants to walk around town with you, show you off

He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be

And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times

He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general

He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him

He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him

Stu Macher

He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death

And Stu was immediately enamored

He comes to see you whenever he can

He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you

He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him

You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him

He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people

How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list

He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before

He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you

And if you argue against it, he will shut down

The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker

Vincent Sinclair

Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made

You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7

He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell

He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him

He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to

But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him

Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil

Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people

The only one who should be receiving that attention is him

Barely sleeps at night

He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes

Is overall obsessed even more than you know

Bo Sinclair

If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush

The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly

You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life

He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you

He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live

But little do you know of his darker nature

He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them

He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him

And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you

You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted

You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea

It will be a great surprise

#slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers preference #slashers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire headcanon #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader

[messylustt]

Heyy!! I Hope you’re doing well and have/had a great day🥰

I wanted to request a ghostface ethan x reader smut oneshot and to be honest I don’t really have a exact idea but I just love the way you write and portrait ethan and I also think you are one of the only ones that also write him as a Dom :)

Maybe you could throw in some degrading and choking or some public sex if ur comfortable with that ofc!

Here’s kind of a „idea“ but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to:

Reader and Ethan are in the same friend group ofc but they really hate each other (Ethan is ghostface) and idk maybe when the ghostface attacks begin (scream 6) one time where reader is walking home or something she gets a call from ghostface (Ethan) and first he’s like trying to scare her but reader isn’t that intimidated since she survived before (scream 5) and she’s also a bad ass and then gf (Ethan) randomly starts flirting with her/ dirty talking and the reader kinda goes with it since she has a bit of a thing for gf and then when she’s in a ally gf pops up and it comes to smut somehow and just before reader is about to cum, Ethan reveals himself?

(Oh and I would still love to see the bickering and fighting with Ethan and reader before the gf smut? If that’s okay with you)

I am so sorry, that got so long omg- 💀

THANK YOU ALREADY IN ADVANCE!!🫶🏻

nothing's too long babe! love this plot. meanish banter is MWAH

behind the mask — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : you don’t realise that ghostface is your enemy ethan until you’ve gone too far.

contents : slight choking, fingering, semi public sexual stuff (in an alleyway), enemies to kinda enemies who want to fuck, dub con, finger sucking. wc 2.7k

"Which brings us to our suspect list," Mindy spoke, as the entire group sat at a campus off to the side and away from prying ears.

Ethan mockingly coughs, before muttering your name. You shoot him glare. "I'm sorry, who here has survived a Ghostface attack, that's right, not you." You bite at Ethan, adjusting yourself on the bench.

Ethan rolls his eyes. "And you survived pathetically." He mutters.

"Excuse me?" You snap your head back to Ethans direction. You'd never liked this boy, almost too "innocent", and always playing the victim.

"The only pathetic one here is you, Ethan." You hated each other. You could never pinpoint why, just the fact that you did. And everyone knew it. Your smile would always drop when he walked in, your tone turning sour. And Ethan's comments became harsher the moment you said anything.

Chad was surprised by how heated Ethan's anger for you was. He'd never seen the boy say such mean things with such confidence, its like he was a different person when you were around.

"Alright, you two can bicker later." Mindy quickly chimed in, continuing on with her suspect list. She faced Ethan who still had a scowl on his face. "Ethan, the shy, dorky guy, whose so shy and dorky that no one would ever suspect him."

You scoff. "You left out sad and alone." You comment, making Ethan shoot you glare to which you mockingly smiled.

You turn your attention to Mindy. "Don't waste your time on him. He doesn't have the guts to be Ghostface."

Ethan was offended, more than by any other comment you'd thrown at him. Didn't have the guts? He internally scoffs. Maybe he should cut out yours to replace his supposed faulty ones.

As Mindy went to speak on Quinn's sexual habits, tagging her as a suspect, you could feel Ethan's eyes burning holes into the back of your head. You turn to him, narrowing your eyes, before muttering 'what?'

He narrows his own, dragging his gaze along your face. He leans closer to whisper. "You look like you came out of hell."

"Mm, and I'd love to send you there." You hissed back, staying quiet so as not to ruin Mindy's ranting. She can get quite mean when you interrupted her passions.

"You could try." Ethan says, as you turn your head to fully face him. Your faces were close, scowls very present.

"I would try and succeed, Ethan. We both know I'd win."

Ethan scoffs in your face. "You seem awfully confident."

"Again who here has survived a Ghostface attack?" You ask tilting your head. "I can promise it means I have a streak for winning, and I happen to be rather competitive." You lean even closer, whispering in his ear. "You don't stand chance, sweetheart." You mock out the pet name, noticing the way his body tenses. Most likely out of anger.

You lean back putting your full attention on Mindy.

;;

The streets were decently busy with costumed poeple, laughing and joking. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Bringing it out you didn't bother checking the number assuming it was someone from your friend group checking you got home. "I'm fine, just walking—"

"To your apartment, I know." But the voice isn't one of the twins or the sisters.

"I'm sorry, I thought this was someone else." You say, skeptically. You gaze around, trying to see if anyone looked suspicious with a phone. Then when he spoke again, you finally realised and recognised the voice.

"You won't find me." A deep chuckle follows. Ghostface. You immediantly straighten, feeling the familiar shivers wracking your spine.

You clench your jaw. "I don't have time for this."

"Oh, no, you have plenty of time." Ghostface replies. "Because all you're going to do, is walk home, take out another tub of icecream and stare at men you can never have on the screen."

You open and close your mouth, feeling partly offended and the other part nervous. How would he know that? "Why'd you call?" You steer the conversation elsewhere, but Ghostface doesn't seem to want to, continuing on.

"You'd be wearing those little shorts that cover nothing, with that top that shows just how cold you usually are." You pause, swiftly trying to spot him on the street.

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?" You clench your teeth, because you did wear shorts for bed, and yes, they may be on the looser side, but it's not like you went out that late. You stayed home alone. Or so, you had thought.

"You're a creep."

"You sound surprised." Ghostface replies. "You shouldn't be. Though I guess there isn't too much going on in the pretty head of yours."

A snarl edges your lips. "You think you're so high and mighty, being a copycat to murderers who lost." You remind him.

"It's called carrying on the legacy." He quickly remarks, making you scoff. You had quickened your steps across the streets, deciding it best to get inside your apartment and behind a locked door.

"That "legacy" as you call it, sucks." You say, hearing a chuckle in repsonse.

"Does it? Because if I remember correctly, you always felt a shiver run down your spine when you heard my voice." He pauses, his smile practically seeable. "And not in a terrible way at all."

You gulp. "Now you're just making up shit."

"Really?" Ghostface probes. "So you don't feel all hot right now? A small rush from speaking to me, one that makes you excited. You don't feel that?"

Your mouth has dried, as you try to cool your body down, noticing how it—especially your core—heated up as the conversation continued. "Well, I'm sorry to say. But you're wrong. Very wrong."

"Do you want me to find out?" Ghostface asks, making you stop your steps, swiftly glancing around, your chest starting to heave quicker. "Because I'm afraid, I don't believe you, sweetheart."

"Is this some new tactic. Get me vulnerable in a...different way."

"You think me flirting with you is a tactic? Poor girl."

You scoff. "That wasn't flirting."

"Was I too subtle?" He asks, his tone showing his enjoyment.

You grind your teeth, having to stop, as a large group of what appears to be Halloween market-goers blocking the path. "Excuse me." You try, pushing past people, but they don't budge making you scowl at them.

"Are you stuck?" You can hear Ghostface say on the other line. "Do you need help?"

"Hang the fucking phone up. And stop acting like some scary villain, when you're really just some third grader doing prank calls." You hiss, trying again to push past the loud crowd.

Ghostface chuckles, as you end up getting pushed aside against a stall, making you curse. "You seem to have a lot of incorrect assumptions." He begins. 'I'm getting quite offended here."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You sarcastically say, trying again to weave through the growing crowd.

"You're rather mean actually." He mockingly pouts out.

"And you kill people. Are we done?" You ask, getting exasperated by the phone call and the rude people.

"Not even close." And then you hear the beep of an 'end of call', making you bring the phone away. But before you can do anything more, a hand grabs your arm yanking you through the crowd. You gasp as bodies collide with your fast moving one.

You can't see a thing before you're pushed up against a cold wall, finally away from the crowd, but now in a dark alleyway. You finally see the white mask of Ghostface as he cages you against the wall.

Your chest is heaving as your breathing stutters out, everything having happened extremely fast. Ghostface tilts his head as you hear a dark chuckle breaking through the modulator. "You are stupidly confident."

Words get caught in your throat as you try to swallow something down. "Aw, cat caught your tongue?" He coos, his gloved hand dragging across your neck, making your entire body stiffen. Everyone knew that if you got a call from Ghostface you were marked to die. And here he was, probably preparing to gut you.

You quickly shut your eyes, seeming the only thing you can control at the moment, because you weren't dumb enough to think you could bypass him and run. There's a moment where you just hear Ghostface's heavy breathing, as the distant sound of the halloween market goes on behind you both.

Then you feel the rough material of his glove slowly dragging across your bottom lip. You swiftly open your eyes shocked. You can feel your pulse beating everywhere—everywhere. You can't tell what Ghostface is thinking or where he's looking because of his stupid mask. You tried to see through the thin material made for the eyes but it's too dark to pinpoint anyone's eyes.

"So stupid." He quietly says, almost to himself as his finger drags across the in between of your lips, getting your spit on his finger. You don't know what to do. You don't know what's going on. Why isn't the knife inside you?

Then his hand leads down to grip your neck, beginning to tighten, as your hands quickly fly up to grab his wrist. His other hand is placed by your hip, keeping you trapped. "You're always so arrogant." He says, tightening a fraction. Your throat feels small as your breaths grow shorter.

You dig your nails into his arm and wrist trying to pull him off you. But he doesn't budge, his other hand now grabbing at your waist. "But also so dirty." He husks out, as he pulls your hips to press against his, making a choked gasp escape you. He finally loosens his hold on your throat, just enough so that air can get in much easier.

"What would your friends think, knowing you have a thing for a killer in a mask? The killer in a mask." He sneers, his hand at your waist travelling dangerously low, now reaching your inner thigh.

"What—" But you cut yourself off as Ghostface pulls your legs apart, lifting one to rest on his hip. Your eyes widen upon feeling how hard he is against your shameful, throbbing pussy. His hand drops down to feel your wetness through your panties, your skirt having bunched up by your hips at the compromising postion.

Your mouth is open in shock. Ethan behind the mask stares at you, as he feels just how turned on you really are. His chest is heaving, as his bulge begs for attention. Why was he grabbing you like this? He hated you. He had wanted to scare, if he ended up particually mad possibly kill you, hurt you maybe. But certainly not touch you.

But as he had begun to realise your very secret crush on Ghostface he used it to his advantage. But in the process of thinking what a slut you are, he began to think on how you could be a slut for him. Begging for him to touch you as pathetic whimpers and moans escaped you. How pathetic you'd look all for him.

His grip around your neck tightened before loosening, moving up to your open mouth as he stuck two fingers in, wanting to feel your mouth wrapping around them, wanting to see your spit on his glove. "Suck them."

Your eyes stayed wide, as you stared at the now very intimidating Ghostface. You slowly closed your mouth around his fingers as your tongue began to circle the tangy tasting farbic. "That's it..." He breathes as he began to thrust them in and out of your mouth, your spit now coating your lips as you sucked. "Look at you, such a slut for a mystery guy with a knife."

Behind the mask, his eyes had hooded, his cock now aching at the visual. You were powerless against him, and that rush made him, bypass your panties, reaching to drag his gloved finger right up your slit, spreading your wetness around. Your hips jolted into him as he rubs over your clit, a sound that seemed close to a whine coming out muffled through his working fingers.

As Ethan watched you suck his fingers, while he rubbed your aching pussy he felt this need to kiss you, lick up all the saliva that had drippled onto your bottom lip. But he couldn't take his mask of yet. He wanted you to know who was giving you so much pleasure when you were at your peak, begging for him. Ethan felt undeniably smug at the thought of you cumming onto his fingers. The boy you hated.

He then—as compensation for his waiting—thrusted a finger inside you without warning. "God—that was so easy. You're just that wet for me, that your little hole was so eager to let me in." His breath through the mask is by your ear as you shuddered. He pulled his now dripping fingers out of your mouth, spreading your spit across your bottom lip as your dazed gaze makes him move his hand to your neck, loving how small it felt in his grasp.

He grinned behind the mask as he added a second finger, pumping in and out of you. Your hands were gripping at his cloak, your mind a haze of pleasure, as you had begun to grind into his hand. "Fuck, your such a little slut, letting me finger you in an alleyway. Someone could find you, you know?"

A whimper escaped you as he curled his fingers inside you. "Such a naughty girl being so dirty for Ghostface."

"Shit—" You breathed harshly, as his thrusts quickened.

You could feel your stomach contgracting with your impending orgasm, and Ethan could tell by how hard you clenched around his fingers. He stopped inside you, making a pathetic whine leave your lips, your orgasm so so close.

"P-please." You say, breathless, as you try to thrust your hips into his fingers wanting friction. But Ethan just pushed you harder against the wall, keeping you still. He then brought his hand to his mask, finally thrusting his fingers into you again as you moan.

He pulled off his mask, not being able to wait before kissing you. You gasp through the kiss not having expected him to take of his mask, or feel his lips at all. Your eyes had immediantly shut as he sucked on your bottom lip, his tongue esploring your mouth eagerly.

And as he finally drew back, breath heavy, you met his gaze. You gasped with a mix of suprise, and pleasure. His fingers having quickened inside you. "What—" You choke, as Ethan grins, his curls a mess, as he stays pressed to your shaking body. "E-ethan?'

"Hi, y/n." He grins as your mouth opens in pleasure as you stutter out incoherently. "Shh," Ethan chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. "I didn't know you were such a slut." He says, as the sound of your arousel fills the otherwise distant noises.

"Actually that's a lie," He begins. "I knew how much of a slut you really were, having a thing for Ghostface..." He thrusts harder into you, your stomach tightening.

"Oh god— Ethan—" Pleasure crashes over you as your head hits back against the hard wall, your body shaking as your orgasm courses through you.

"Mm." Ethan hums as he slows inside you, continuing to watch as your face contorts in pleasure, all because of him. "I thought you hated me."

"I did. I do." You quickly say, as your body feels extremely heavy, your mind trying to wrap around the truth that was revealed.

Ethan shakes his head, leaning towards your ear, licking your earlobe. "Then why moan my name?"

"I—" You didn't know what to say. Because you had. And you had felt very far from hatred when you saw his familiar brown curls come into view.

Ethan felt powerful with how stuck you were. Physically and mentally. His breath tickled your now wet ear, his kitten licks having continued. "Do you wanna show me just how much of a crush you have on Ghostface, or do you wanna try and prove how much you hate me?"

You met his gaze and knew you were fucked. Physically and mentally.

A better way to put it would be entirely.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

#. ( archived ) #the ethan effect #ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #scream #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #scream smut #scream 6 smut

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.

Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.

Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.

I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.

"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.

"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.

"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"

"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.

"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.

"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.

The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.

It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.

"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.

"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."

"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.

"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.

"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.

"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."

"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.

"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.

"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"

"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.

"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."

"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.

"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.

"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.

"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.

"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.

"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."

"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."

"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.

"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.

"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.

You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.

Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.

"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.

"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.

"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.

"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.

"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"

"Emily," JJ warns.

"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.

"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

"Derek you're not helping," you state.

"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."

"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.

"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.

"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.

Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?

He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.

How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.

"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."

"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.

"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.

"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.

"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."

You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.

Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.

"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.

"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.

You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.

You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.

You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"

"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"

Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.

You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.

You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."

"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.

"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.

"He did," Spencer agrees.

"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.

"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.

"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"

"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.

"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."

He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.

"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."

"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"

"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.

"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.

"I'd love that Spence."

The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.

Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.

You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.

"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."

"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.

"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"

He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.

"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.

"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.

"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"

"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"

"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."

You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"

"I," he brings himself back.

"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.

"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.

"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.

"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."

He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.

"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.

"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.

"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."

His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.

His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.

His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.

This is a road you do not turn back from.

You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.

It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.

There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.

He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.

You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.

He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.

"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.

"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.

"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."

That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.

He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.

His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.

In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.

Needing him.

And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.

He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."

"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.

"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."

You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.

You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.

You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.

You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.

His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.

Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.

You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.

His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.

He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.

"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.

He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.

Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.

You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.

Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.

Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."

"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.

"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.

The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.

Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.

If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.

But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.

He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.

He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.

It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.

He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.

He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.

You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.

He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.

Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.

You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.

And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.

Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.

"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.

"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."

"I am yours," he responds.

You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.

Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.

"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.

"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."

"Please," you beg in his ear.

"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.

"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."

Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.

He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.

You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.

"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."

"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.

"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #smut #smut fanfic #no beta we die like jason gideon #reader x spencer reid #bau fanfic #bau smut #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #x reader #bau #criminal minds fic

[mysticmoaning]

Tension II - rab

Description:

Regulus decides to apologise and you accept in a very gracious way.

Warnings:

Big angst / Use of 'mudblood' / Fingers in V / V Penetration / Virgin!Regulus

A/N:

This is not what I originally planned for this part two, but I guess that can be expected after such a long time between, sorry!!! I hope you enjoy the Big Feelings, Sad Boi Regulus, and Virgin!Regulus. Sorry about the ending, I want to keep this going cause I have some ideas and it was necessary unfortunately.

After your experience on the train, Regulus had become all but non-existent in your life. Your meeting with the muggle-born first years (where he gritted out the speech he left you to write and practically spat on the new wizard and witches' abilities) was the last time you'd seen him, save for the occasional glimpse around Hogwarts.

Whatever. You had better things to do than fool around with such a close-minded prick like him. No matter that the feeling of your own fingers had become a shadow compared to the memory of his scissoring inside you. Fuck...

Stop. You'd get over him eventually. It's not like you liked him, you just...no.

You tried to focus on detangling the knots in your hair as you yanked it out of its bun, wincing at your accidental aggressiveness. It was just your luck that you'd had a quidditch match today. Regulus had been wearing those tight pants under his quidditch robes and your thoughts had drifted towards how difficult it would be to slip your hand down them, costing you a goal.

Lost in the memory, you didn't hear the footsteps until whoever was right behind you. You jumped, having stayed late to have the place to yourself and wondering who the hell had come to disturb you. At the sight of Regulus, you gasped.

"What are you doing here?" You snapped.

He looked ghostly pale, his damp hair combed back and beginning to curl. Noticing his uniform, you realised you were in your bra and underwear, believing everyone to have vacated the showers.

Good. Maybe you could make him squirm.

His eyes flickered down your body before resting on the floor, his cheeks quickly growing red. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and you smirked in understanding as to why. Well, he couldn't deny his attraction to you.

"Why the nerves, Black? Thought you hated me..." You turned to put your brush down on the bench beside you, head quickly swivelling back when you heard him mumble something under his breath. "What?"

He glanced up, eyes catching on your lacy bra before meeting yours. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

"I said, I don't hate you."

You stared in disbelief. What was he on about?

"Merlin, you had me fooled." You stood, taking a step towards him with your hands on your hips. "Pushing me away as soon as your fingers left my pussy," his adam's apple bobbed nervously and he glanced away, "Then ignoring me for the past two weeks like nothing even happened. And don't think I didn't understand your nastiness with the muggle-born first years being meant for me."

He looked at you then, eyes flicking between your own. His lips parted and then closed. A pink flash of tongue wet them, the fresh shine giving you thoughts of other ways he could use them.

Fuck, why was it so hard to be around him?

He sighed deeply, ran a hand through his hair, and then sat defeatedly on the bench behind him. You nearly asked if he was alright but held your ground.

"I-" He glanced at you before fixing his gaze on the tile, apparently the only way he could say whatever it was that was bothering him. "I don't hate you. And....and I'm sorry."

You stared at him hard, in shock. Had a Black ever said sorry in their lifetime? Sitting back down was the only response you could muster.

The corner of his mouth quirked like he understood your confusion before quickly resuming its downward position. The wrinkles already forming on either side made it clear he was used to the expression.

"Listen, I...I was embarrassed." He glanced at you quickly before looking away. "I'm....I've never...I had never..."

"You're a virgin?" The words left your mouth before you could stop them. He gave an almost imperceptible nod. What were you hearing right now? You had your suspicions but never in a million years did you think them to be true. Just looking at him, you couldn't process that no one had tried to get close enough to him to get him into bed.

Flashing back over the memory from the train, certain things began to jump out at you. His nervousness. How he thought you were in pain when you threw your head back in pleasure. The way he groaned into your shoulder when you....

"Holy shit, you came!" You didn't mean to practically yell it, your hand flying over your mouth.

His eyes were round saucers as he stared at you, cheeks growing impossibly red.

"Y/N, please..." The shine in his eyes made you freeze. "Please don't tell anyone."

You moved to sit beside him.

"Regulus, why would I tell anyone?" His head was in his hands now. He glanced over at you.

"What do you want?" You furrowed your brow in confusion. He studied your face for a moment. "You're not going to tell..." You shook your head, "So what do you want in return?"

"What?" You couldn't understand his thought process for a moment. Then it clicked. Everyone in his life always wanted something in return for treating him with decency. Nothing came free for him...

You had always been conflicted about Regulus. A shitty family can't totally excuse bad behaviour, but this...Merlin, fitting in with his family was about survival. Sirius had gotten out, sure, but you'd never heard anything about him trying to help Regulus. His only connection to a better, less hateful world had left him behind.

"Regulus," You slide your fingers into his, pulling his hand away from his face and into your lap. He looked at you and then away, obviously waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I don't want anything from you. I'm not going to tell anyone because that's our private business and no one else deserves to know. That's the least you deserve."

He glanced back at you, eyes flickering over the details of your face. His lips silently mimed 'our' and the corners of his mouth started to curve upwards.

You couldn't help it, all the tension from the past two weeks, the anger, and this loaded conversation, wore down your resolve. Plus, you were beginning to think maybe you didn't hate Regulus after all.

You kissed him, his lips just as soft and welcoming as on the train. He involuntarily moaned into your mouth and you smiled.

His fingers, impossibly gentle, ghosted over your exposed thigh. You angled yourself towards him and moved his hand around to your hip. He pulled away with a soft gasp, eyes searching your face.

"I don't know..."

You paused immediately, gripping his hand in yours and holding it chastely away from your body.

"We don't have to do anything, Reg. I want you to be comfortable."

He shook his head quickly, a smile like sunshine lighting his face and making your stomach flip. "No, I want to. Merlin, do I want to..." His thick brows knitted a cloud that cast a shadow over his face. "It's just...since I've never...I don't know how long I'm going to last. I mean, you didn't even touch me last time and..."

He looked to you shyly.

"Hey," You moved his hand back to your hip and his eyes tracked the movement, darkening as his skin made contact with the plump flesh just briefly covered by the band of your underwear. "We all have to start somewhere."

This time, he leaned in to connect your lips. You revelled in this subtle show of confidence and the way he flicked his tongue against yours.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered against your lips, his fingers teasing the edges of your underwear. "I've always thought so."

You pulled away enough to look into his eyes, realising suddenly that they were the deepest of blues, not black like you thought. He stared back, a nervous smile on his lips.

You studied his face. His lashes were thick like his brows, black and shadowy around his eyes. He had pinprick freckles over his nose and on the highest points of his cheeks. The bow of his lips was so perfectly formed you couldn't help but lean in to kiss him again.

He kissed back, more firmly this time. You felt the heat too, the urgency that was beginning to rise between you. His fingers dug into your hip and you sighed into his mouth in response. He took this as a good sign, moving his hand around to palm at your ass. You put your hand over his and squeezed so he'd grab you, not giving him the time to question as you slung one leg over his to straddle him.

He stared at you in awe and you felt the bulge in his pants harden further. You held his face in your hands, fingers spread over his cheeks, and ground your hips into him. His eyes rolled back with his head as he groaned out at the feeling.

"Is this okay?" You confirmed and his hands flew to your hips, gripping tightly.

"Merlin, yes," He just managed to slit his eyes to look at you, pupils blown so you could hardly see the rim of blue around them. You smirked down at him, keeping your eyes locked on his as you began to unzip his pants and pull him out of his boxers. He cursed as you gripped him in your hand, gently beginning to stroke him. "Fuck, I don't know that I'm even going to make it inside you, Y/N."

You laughed as he quirked his lips, smiling apologetically.

Deciding not to tease him any further, you slipped your underwear to the side and ran the head of his cock quickly through your dripping folds. Regulus cried out at the feeling but you swallowed the sound with your mouth, kissing him as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

You moaned as his considerable girth stretched you out, his own sounds of pleasure already signalling that he was close. Rocking slowly against his hips, you focused on the friction of your clit rubbing against him. He gripped your hips so hard you were sure he'd leave bruises and you knew he was using all of his self control not to cum.

You quickened your pace and he gasped into your mouth. Pulling away, you moved your lips to his ear, giving a soft bite to shell of it. He groaned and his hands moved down to your thighs, still holding on like his life depended on it.

"Let go, Reg. I wanna hear how good it feels." You whispered into his ear. The flutter of your breath on his neck and the words you spoke sent him quickly careening over the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N!" He cried out, his head thrown back as his cock twitched inside of you with each thick stream of cum. You kissed along his exposed neck, slowing your movements as his quick, heavy breaths began to calm.

When he was nearly recovered, he raised his head to look at you, his cheeks flushed. He moved his hand between your bodies and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you gasp.

"Shit, Reg, you don't-" He caught your lips in his, bucking his hips up gently as he rubbed generous circles on your clit. You moaned into him, his still-hard cock thrusting into you making the fire that already burned in your belly begin to spread.

He started to kiss your exposed chest, sucking at the skin of your breasts. When he began to soften inside you, he quickly replaced himself with the fingers of his other hand, working them faster until you were a cursing mess on top of him.

Momentarily abandoning your clit, he used his free hand to pull down half your bra, latching onto the exposed nipple with his tongue and bringing you to your breaking point.

You cried out his name as you rocked through your orgasm, falling onto him and trying to regain your breath once the waves of pleasure passed.

Finally, you pulled yourself up to look Regulus in the eyes. He smiled softly, cheeks still pink in pleasure.

His brows rose slightly, lips parting to expose a sliver of his perfect, white teeth. You moved off him and he quickly zipped himself up while you fixed your bra.

"So..." He began, nervous once again, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his sweater. "This doesn't mean anything, right?"

You stared at him in disbelief. What? His features began to darken, his eyes trained on the floor again.

"I can't...." He swallowed. "I can't be anything to you. I mean, my parents can't know. No one can know..." He trailed off softly.

"What?" You were growing angry. What did that mean? "God, Regulus, seriously? Since I'm not some close-minded, pureblood scumbag you can't be associated with me? Fuck off."

He stood quickly and moved towards you while you hurried to get dressed.

"Y/N, I can't. You don't understand-"

"I don't understand?"

"No, I've got...responsibilities. You don't-"

He cut himself off with a gasp as you stepped to him and yanked up his sleeve, revealing the offensive black ink branded into his skin. "What don't I understand, Regulus? I think it's perfectly clear. I don't fit into your tiny, fucked up world. You can't play the perfect Death Eater for mommy and daddy and fuck a dirty mudblood at the same time. Does that about sum it up?"

You stormed out before he could answer, ignoring the pain in your chest and the tears beginning to spill over onto your cheeks.

#enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers to enemies #enemies with benefits #Hogwarts smut #quidditch #hogwarts #marauders #marauders!era #smut #hp smut #hp #harry potter smut #harry potter #xreader #regulus x reader #x reader #x reader smut #regulus x reader smut #regulus x y/n #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus #regulus black smut #regulus smut #part 2 #part two #tension rab #rab

[yanderambling]

Ahhh love your writing!! Can we get something for yan!ruler and their willing darling who's also their knight? Reader is pining towards their totally sweet and kind ruler and when the ball comes they're very sad cause now their Highness will dance with some noble and ofc fall in love and reader have never had a chance with the royalty anyway :((

But they didn't know those concerns were in vain🙂🙂

i'm so happy to hear that! and what a wonderful idea, thanks so much for sending it!! i may have taken it in a slightly different direction, but i hope you enjoy <3

concept: Submissive Monarch!Yandere(gn) x Pining Knight!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, slight manipulation, this one's actually p tame lol

You hadn't been working for Aschanti very long when they promoted you to their personal guard.

You were honored by the trust your noble ruler had in you, and you still work tirelessly to ensure that trust was not misplaced; the last thing you'd want to do is disappoint your dear sovereign.

Aschanti is a righteous and just power, they're clever and virtuous and surprisingly kind, to boot. You admire them immensely, and you're grateful every day for the privilege of being in their royal majesty's presence while you keep them safe and secure.

You couldn't be happier to be by your ruler's side all the time now.

Well... almost all the time.

You struggle at times like these, these high-class social gatherings where you have to watch them dazzle and charm (more so than usual), where they play nice and rub shoulders with the elites.

It just makes the divide between you two so much more prominent in your mind; you feel terribly out of place as a working hand among all these elegant nobles- and watching half of them squabble for Aschanti's attention is just the icing on the bitter cake.

They could have anyone they want, any of those beautiful scions that look so natural in all their fineries, that move with unfaltering grace and poise, that hold high status and social connections.

Why would they ever choose you?

You were meant for the sidelines, a lowborn made to stand in the shadows and keep your divine ruler safe while they live out their life before you.

You’ve known this for ages, and remind yourself often. But, unfortunately, this knowledge cannot seem to stop you from dreaming.

If only you stood a chance with them…

•

•

Aschanti has desired you since the first day you reported for duty.

You were so earnest, so absolute in your dedication to the crown, to them. And they could tell, they've seen countless knights pull the "happy hardworking hero" act to get in their good graces, but not you. You were real. You truly just wanted to protect them, to pledge your life to their rule, to defend their body and name alike based on only your ideals and instinct (you seem to rely on those for most decisions, and you’re very often right).

They put you on their personal guard almost immediately (which is lodged within the castle, naturally), terrified now at the idea of being so far from you after having been blessed by your glorious presence.

They always feel so comforted when they see your silhouette standing in their periphery, they lose their breath when they watch you scrutinize new persons for potential threats, their chest sets alight when they hear you shifting outside their bedroom door on your night guard (how they long for you to just come in one night and sweep them away...).

You make them feel safe, down in their very bones, until their head gets fuzzy and they just want to collapse into you and let you move and manipulate them however you desire.

They want nothing more than to be with you, to let you protect and take care of them forever, to let you have them, utterly and completely.

But they could never lay themself bare like that, especially not in front of you.

How disgraceful, for a monarch to want such perverted things from their guard, to yearn to be dominated by their own knight. They can't begin to imagine what the world might think- the council, their allies, the social elite- but that's absolutely nothing compared to their fears about you.

God, they wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye if you knew what they thought every time they see your muscles flex while you train, or when you place a gentle hand on the shoulder before walking ahead, or when your eyes get that thrilling, stony look when you focus on a task- they would cede their entire empire for you to look at them like that for just a minute while they knelt at your feet.

But then you would never look at them the same. You'd never respect them again. You’d likely be so disgusted that you would resign, and then where would they be?

They’d have to detain you somehow, of course, make up a collusion or the like; they know they would simply waste away in your absence, so leaving is just not an option.

But then still, you would never again gaze at them with those sparkling, idolizing eyes. You would never again toss them that encouraging grin that near blinds them every time they see it. You would never again see them as the honorable ruler you've looked up to since the beginning.

You would never love them.

No, it’s too risky.

At least they can still be with you like this, choking on their desire to melt into you at any given moment, desperately trying to maintain the illusion of respectability when all they can think about is your fingers around their throat.

It gets especially hard during the balls and what all; how can they even pretend to care about any of these highborn frivolities when you're standing mere feet away, watching them with those sharp, intoxicating eyes?

Funnily enough, you’re also the only thing that gets them through these circus acts.

Aschanti is always subtly watching you during these social events; they’ve perfected the art of staring as soon as your gaze shifts and looking away right before they're caught, it's kind of thrilling.

They entertain petty conversation as they recall the water that dripped down your neck when you chugged it after training yesterday, they laugh at bland jokes and picture your enchanting smile, they allow the occasional noble’s heir to place a flirtatious hand on their shoulder and imagine it’s your calloused fingers stroking their collar (they notice how you stiffen at the sight, how your lips purse and your hand tightens around your staff- it makes their blood pound just thinking you might be… oh, god, jealous over them. Maybe they lean into it a little, just to see your gaze harden. Oh, to think of all the ways you could punish them for their impertinence!)

It's still incredibly difficult for them, though.

They yearn for you every waking second.

They curse the inches between you when you stand in your place at their shoulder, they bask in the heat of your hand when you place it on their back to guide them, they imagine falling into your reassuring arms at the end of the day and try their best not to lose their composure each time.

Being with you is such sweet torture, one that they could never relinquish, because being without you would be closer akin to death.

If only you knew what they'd have you do to them...

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #dom reader #knight reader #yandere king #yandere queen #gn yandere #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

[buckysegan]

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration - Part three.

Summary: The letters back and forth between our loves through the rest of the war. Word Count: 2.1K A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me, do i know how long the letters took? not a clue. but google gave us a good guess. john egan how i miss you, i need your love so here i give you mine. Part two link.

Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too. It's rather insane to me if I think about it too much, just how much I've thought about you in the time that I've waited for your letters. Part of me was worried that you would think I was a little crazy righting to a man I didn't know and an even bigger part of me was worried my letters would reach you too late, but I'm glad you were happy to hear from me.

I don't mind that you're a simple guy, in fact I think I like that, then I won't have to worry about impressing you whilst we write back and forth I can just say what comes to mind. I like to think that I laugh quite easily myself, laughter is free right? And right now I think we could all use a little laughter in the world. I'll tell you my favorite song next and then you can tell me yours, I love you are my sunshine, it warms something in my chest whenever it comes on, I just can't help but smile you know? Your turn John!

I wish I could know exactly where you are, then I could know if you were some place safe but I'll settle for knowing you're still out there. As for me, I'm in Washington, Redmond to be more precise, is that anywhere near where you're from? I'd like to meet you very much Major.

With all my anticipation, excitement and continued adoration,

A friend from home x

Dear Darling,

That's what the boys have been calling you ever since your second letter arrived and given I don't know your name, that's what I decided to roll with. I hope that's alright.

I have no idea how your letters keep finding me at the exact right time, it's like fate keeps leaving it till it knows I need to hear from you. You should also know, it wouldn't matter to me if you were a little crazy, I know I'm crazy so you'd just fit right in. I don't think anyone that thinks laughter is free could be considered crazy though. You seem to good for such a thing.

I've had you are my sunshine stuck in my head for the past few days whilst I tried to find paper to write you. I think the boys were grateful at first because I wasn't sinking Blue Skies my old favorite, now I think they're ready to kill us both darling. Next question, do you like cats or dogs more? I'm not telling you my answer till I know you can be trusted.

I am with you. Know that much, and I guess Washington will be my first stop when I'm back home.

Please never stop writing.

With all my wondering, respect and ever growing adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I could have given you my name. But I've decided that darling will do quite nicely for now. If you want to know my name you're going to have to make it home and come and get it yourself.

Is it sad of me to confess that every day I don't get your letter I get a little bit sadder until one comes through? I just hate the wait each time even though I know that these things take time. Writing you might just be the most stressful thing I decided to be. How does anyone's heart survive doing this?

You'll be pleased to know, I've been annoying the girls plenty in return with Blue Skies since learning that it's your favourite. I feel like it tells me a lot about you Major. Sing it for me sometime? I also feel like your question is a trick, a cat and a dog have very different purposes in life so I'll just chose both if that's ok?

I wanted to tell you I joined the war efforts myself since I last wrote. I'm in the factories now and I have to admit, I've never enjoyed having dirty hands so much. I'm helping to build the planes. The wings specifically, I think they put me here because I wouldn't stop talking about my pilot John.

I wonder if anything I ever build will make it across to you? My letters won't stop as long as yours don't John.

With all my curiosity, joy and bursting adoration.

Your darling from home x

Dear Darling,

I'm in a terrible mood. Buck said I can't start my letter like that but I told him you'd be alright. You don't mind do you? I have to tell someone or I think I might actually start going a little crazy. I might already be crazy if I didn't get just as excited as you do when the mail call comes through.

I wish I knew you before the war. I wish you knew me before the war, I fear I might not be the John that came to England. I don't even know if I'm the John that start writing you all those months ago. I'm just sort of hoping you won't give up on me anyway even if my letters ain't always sunshine.

And I'm glad darling, I'm so god damn glad that waiting on my letters is the most stressful part of your day. Reminds me why we're doing this, what we're over here for. To keep you all safe at that side.

I suppose I can give you cats and dogs though. I wouldn't want to pick either if we really had to come down to it. My girls smart though huh? Making those planes for us to fly? I gotta say the idea of that does something to me and my bad mood in a good way.

What I wouldn't give to be home with you right now and I never even met you.

My longing, wishing and steady adoration

John Egan

Dear John

You can write to me, come rain or shine, bad moods or good. I don't want to just be here for the fun parts Major. I may not have known you before the war, and I may only just be learning who you are now but I don't doubt for a second, every part of you is worth knowing so tell Buck that I'll take it all and he can keep his opinions to himself.

I'm sorry, it was thoughtless of me to say writing letters were stressful when you're over there doing what needs to be done. More news keeps reaching us and each day I am terrified that your name is going to appear on a list somewhere.

I know that you can't be here, and I can't be there, but I wanted you to have some small piece of me with you so I sent you something with this letter. Keep smiling with me John, through the good and the bad, just keep smiling if you can.

I hope to see you so soon.

All my determination, strength and adoration

Darling x

Dear Darling,

Buck said he's sorry. He won't ever doubt you again. I think you two would really like each other you know.

He's my voice of reason these days, or rather he always has been. One of my two favorite people, him here, and you all the way over there. How is home? Does it still smell as sweet as I remember it?

I'm a little convinced that you're too good to be true darling. Your picture caused more whistles and taunts that I've seen from the boys in forever and I would have knocked them all on their ass if Buck didn't strike and tell me to sit down again. How do you not have a solider of your own to be writing too?

Sometimes when I get down time. I like to day dream about what you're up to over there. How many planes you fixed up for us, imagine taking you dancing on a Friday night, do you have siblings? Your folks still around? I've been trying to picture it all.

I dream of that soon more than I care to admit.

With all my promises, thoughts and adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I'm glad you have a voice of reason. We wouldn't want you getting up to any trouble now would we? Are you the sort to be in trouble a lot? I get the impression you could be Major Egan.

How are your moods holding up these days? I can't help but worry about you over here even when I'm meant to be busy.

If you could see the blush that you have all caused you would all be ashamed of yourself. I promise I'm real. I tried to get my friend Meg to let me send a picture of her but she claimed you were really going to show up here one day and then you'd be looking for the wrong girl.

I like the idea of you imagining things. It means I'm not the only one. I do have siblings, an older sister who works in the factories with me, and a little brother who is out fighting with you somewhere but his own girl writes him. My folks are both still here with me too. What's your family like?

I do have a solider of my own to be writing John, I have you.

Tell me a secret if you can?

Your darling x

Dear Darling,

Forgive me because this letter will be short, but I needed to send it out before we move. If you don't hear from me in a while, don't worry, I'll write back as soon as I'm able. I want that name, I want the dancing, I want you to meet my mom when I'm back.

You want to know a secret darling? I think it's taken me ten letters to fall in love with you after all you've given me.

With my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I'm writing even if you might not get this because I refuse to believe anything else other than you're busy for a while. I'll be over here waiting for you remember. I'm with you even when I'm not.

I have so much more to tell you and things I want to learn before I am satisfied.

In fact, no I may never be satisfied and then I never have to let you go.

You'll be in each of my thoughts till I hear from you again John, I think loving you took me one letter.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear John

I don't think I've taken a real breath in weeks. I figured I would write you again, just in case the first one didn't reach you and you thought I hadn't wrote back.

Your name hasn't appeared on any lists so I refuse to believe that you're not still out there waiting to come home to me.

In case you missed it in the first letter, I love you too.

I am still expecting you home John Egan, I'd be with you till you were. That was the deal right?

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear John

If my letters and love don't reach you where do they go?

Tell me more secrets please? Tell me anything? Tell me you'll sing for me like I asked? What do I do if I never get to meet you?

I've checked each list I've found twice every day for months now. Meg said I'm a mess but I don't really care, I just want to know that you're alright. Even if you're not coming here. Please just tell me you're safe John.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear Darling,

Sorry, I didn't think a little while would be that long but I've thought of you every damn day I couldn't write to you. I got your letters, all three of them made it to my base some how.

I'm hoping I beat this letter home so that I can tell you in person that I love you.

I hope you like what arrives in Washington darling, but please bare with me if it takes me a second to adjust. I'll tell you everything, all of it, anything you want to know about me. I feel like I have very little to offer you but it's all for you now. I'll be home so soon.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Yours,

John Egan

#john egan #master of the air #john egan x reader #callum turner #mota drabble #mota fanfic #bucky egan

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

omg this just popped into my head and i desperately need it like i literally will not be able to stop thinking about it about it till it is written but, ethan landry x reader fic based on gods and monsters by lana del rey oml like it would be phenomenal… i don’t want it to incorporate the lyrics i just want it based on the idea of the song? but not about them being actual gods and monsters like to her ethan is a god. especially the lyrics “this is heaven, what i truly want. it’s innocence lost.”. basically reader is super innocent and ethan sees her as an angel and feels the need to ruin her and she sees him as a god and is obsessed with him. super smutty and him praising her and talking her through it. i know this was a lot but i am obsessed with your writing and i think if you wrote this it would be amazing, but only if you’re comfortable 🫶☺️

HI! I hope this was what you wanted. 💕

Gods & Monsters - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're obsessed with Ethan and he's obsessed with you, but he'd dying to destroy your innocence.

Contains: Fluff-ish moments, Smut - Oral(m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, riding, rough-ish sex. Reader isn't a virgin but doesn't have a lot of experience.

A/N: This was one of the fics I lost the other day, and I'm so sad because I liked what I'd already written before. BUT I was determined to get this done lmao

You didn’t expect to fall so hard for Ethan Landry. What started as a small crush on one of your friends led to full-blown infatuation. Once you found yourself hanging off every word that slipped past his perfect lips, always making sure you were beside him whenever you’d go out with your friends, and even letting your grades slip a little just so you’d have the excuse to be alone with him to study, you realized how fucked you were. You didn’t care, though, because he’s everything you wanted.

He was tall, and very attractive. But what really sucked you in was the way he lit up whenever he talked to you about the things he was passionate about. The way his voice sounded first thing in the morning when you’d all spent the night at Tara’s. The way he ignored any other girls that looked in his direction, at least when he was with you.

Ethan was just as caught up in you as you were with him. The first night you walked into Tara’s, he could’ve sworn you were literally glowing. He thought you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen, and once he talked to you and realized how sweet you were, he knew he had to make you his. He found himself daydreaming about taking you on dates, holding your hand, kissing you. But sometimes, his thoughts weren’t so innocent.

He knew you weren’t a virgin, but after a drunken game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ turned sexual, he learned that there were a lot of things you hadn’t done. He wanted to be the first, and hopefully only person you’d do those things with. He even went as far as wondering how you’d sound, the faces you’d make, how much of him you could take in your mouth before it was too much. He felt a little guilty from time to time for thinking about you in that way, because you were just so sweet. But the desire to destroy your innocence just kept getting stronger, no matter how hard he’d try to push those thoughts about you to the side.

The two of you shamelessly flirted with each other, so much that the rest of your friends thought there was something more going on than there was. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to pull you into his lap whenever there wasn’t an empty seat available beside him, or for the two of you to be so caught up in your own conversations that you’d forget your friends were even there. He wanted to take things to the next level, but he’d always get nervous and shut down whenever he got close to kissing you.

You lived down the hall from Tara, which made it so convenient for you and Ethan’s study sessions. Whenever you had plans with your friends, Ethan would come to your apartment to study with you before. With exams coming up, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about how he needed to get over his nerves and finally make a move. He knew he’d still get to see you, but he wouldn’t have the excuse to spend alone time with you.

As Ethan sat on your bed, his fingers moving against his keyboard, you started to get bored. He kept peaking over his laptop screen to see you stretched out on your stomach at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your phone.

“That’s not homework,” he said, playfully scolding you as you sat up to look at him.

“If I have to keep looking at anything school related, I’m going to go crazy.”

“We still have over an hour before we have to go to Tara’s. What would you like to do?” He asked, closing his computer to give you his attention.

“We could watch a funny movie. I need to laugh,” you suggested, as he shook his head.

“We don’t have enough time for that…but,” he said, sitting his laptop on the bed beside him. “I know how to make you laugh.”

He smirked as he crawled closer to you. You knew what was coming, the slight look of panic in your eyes making him chuckle before his fingers dug into your sides.

“Ethan,” you whined, trying to grab at his hands to pull them off you. You were starting to tear up from laughing, and your breathing was getting heavier. “Stop it! You’re going to make me fall off the bed!”

“I’d never let that happen,” he said, his fingers not letting up.

“Seriously, Ethan!” You were starting to wheeze from laughing so hard, so he finally pulled his hands away. You placed one of your hands on your chest as you tried to take deep breaths, as Ethan settled back into the spot he was in before on your bed. “That was so mean.”

“I think it’s funny that you’ve never tried to get me back,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Is it because I’m stronger than you?”

“Knowing you, you’d have me pinned to the bed so I wouldn’t be able to move while you tickled me.”

Ethan got a little caught up in the idea of that. He wanted to have you pinned to the bed, but not to tickle you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you were moving closer to him, the only thing bringing him back into the moment was when your fingertips started to move against his sides.

“Hey!” he said through his laughter as he grabbed at your hands. You weren’t going to give up easily, so you moved to straddle him, pulling your hands away every time he reached for them. “Please, you gotta stop!”

“No,” you said, your hands moving further up his ribs, making him laugh even harder. He knew it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but the way your ass was rubbing against him as you moved was making him hard.

“Stop!” he yelled, finally grabbing your hands. Your face dropped as you looked at him, and he immediately felt guilty for yelling at you like that. “I’m sorry…you’re just,” he said, letting out a gasp once you started to move off him, your eyes going wide once you felt how hard he was underneath you. “That. You’re making me hard.”

“Oh,” you softly said, staring at the bulge in his jeans. “Is it a bad thing that I did?”

“No…I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighed, before he sat up. “Does it make you uncomfortable that you do that to me?”

He watched your cheeks turn pink at his question. This wasn’t how he planned on making his move, but the door was wide open for him to have the conversation.

“No,” you said, “have I made you hard before?”

“I get hard just thinking about you,” he confessed, the sexual tension in the room getting stronger as each second passed.

You were starting to get nervous as you sat there. You didn’t have the most experience in the world, your previous sexual encounters with your ex mainly consisted of you just laying there and waiting until he was done, so you didn’t know how to give a blow job. But you wanted to learn. You wanted Ethan to teach you.

“Can I…suck it?” you asked, his eyes growing wide. “Sorry, stupid question.”

“No, it’s not stupid…do you want me to tell you how to do it?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded. “Okay, uh, I’ll just get these off.”

He slid off the side of your bed and unbuttoned his jeans before shimmying them down his legs. You gawked as you saw the tent in his boxers, wondering if you were in over your head for even thinking you could do this.

“I hate to ask this…” no he didn’t. “But would you want to get on the floor? It’d be easier for you.” You nodded as you slid off the side of the bed and stood in front of him. “Wait,” he said, once you started to drop to your knees. You stood back up to face him, as he leaned in to kiss you. You needily kissed him back, your hands on his cheeks as he started to rub your hips. Once you pulled back, he smiled at you. “You don’t feel like you have to do this, right?”

“No, I want to do this,” you said, looking at him as you sank onto the floor.

“Fuck…eye contact like that is good,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I guess I’ll just slide these down.”

His fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers as he slid them down his thighs, his cock springing free right in front of your face. He let out a sweet laugh once he noticed how wide your eyes got.

“Do I just put it in my mouth?” you asked, as he groaned at how innocent you were.

“Let’s start with just touching it,” he suggested, as you nodded and reached your hand up. “Wrap your hand around it…just like that, baby,” he said, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain himself. “Now move your hand back and forth, but not too fast.”

You did as he said, your eyes glancing between his and his cock. You weren’t sure if you were good at what you were doing, but he was breathing heavier the longer you did it.

“Do you want to try to put it in your mouth?” he asked, as you nodded and leaned forward. “How about you just do what you think is right and I’ll tell you if it’s bad or good?”

“Okay,” you shyly said, hoping that you would get it right.

Ethan’s biggest fantasy was coming to fruition. His head was spinning as you took the head of his cock in your mouth, your hand still stroking him. Even though you weren’t a virgin, he still felt like he was devirginizing you, at least in this way.

“That’s perfect,” he said, his eyes looking into yours as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Try to take a little more.”

You did as he said, easing a little more of him into your mouth. His hand tangled in your hair, his grip loose. The last thing he wanted was to push you too far and make you want to stop when you’d just started. He was about to ask you for more, when you boldly took as much of him as you could in your mouth, to the point that you were gagging around him. You quickly pulled your head back, refusing to make eye contact like you’d just done something wrong.

“Hey,” Ethan said, his hand that was in your hair moved to your chin. He tilted your head so you’d look at him, your eyes already watery from the gagging. “If you want to keep going, there’s a little tip that helps with that.”

He showed you the thumb trick, and talked to you about bobbing your head too, along with moving your hand. Once you felt like you had a better understanding of what you needed to do, you leaned forward, taking just as much of him in your mouth as you did before.

You were still gagging a little, but not as bad as you did the first time. Your mouth kept getting more and more wet, the feeling making Ethan groan. His hand snaked back in your hair as he fought the urge to thrust in your mouth.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, “Twist your hand a little…oh fuck.”

You were catching on quickly, and Ethan was so proud of you. Your eyes stayed on his, even when tears started to slip past your lower lash line. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I try something?” he asked, his eyes pleading with yours. You hummed around him to let him know he could, because the last thing you wanted to do was pull him out of your mouth.

He started to thrust past your lips as you gagged around him, your free hand gripping your thumb as hard as you could. Big, fat teardrops were flowing down your cheeks, but you were loving it. His eyes were fluttering as his jaw dropped open, but he still stayed focused on you, not wanting any of this to be too much.

“I’m gonna cum,” he said, his voice a little raspy from his panting. “Can I cum in your mouth?”

You hummed around him again to respond, the vibrations around his cock sending him over the edge as his hand tensed up in your hair, tugging on it harder than he wanted to. You just kept moaning around him, so turned on as his salty cum coated your tastebuds. He gave a few more weak thrusts as his hand in your hair relaxed before he slowly slid out of your mouth.

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching down to take your hand. He helped you to your feet before wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“Yeah, I liked that,” you said, your voice raw from all the gagging. “Can we do it again?”

“We can do anything you want to,” he said, placing his hands on your hips to hold you close. “But right now, can I eat you out?”

“Oh, Um,” you mumbled, your cheeks getting rosy at the idea. “You want to do that?”

“I’m not your ex,” he said, smirking at you. “I bet he never made you cum.”

“He didn’t,” you sighed, as Ethan backed you towards the bed.

“I will,” he said, as he started to lift your shirt.

Ethan got you out of your jeans and shirt, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He hovered over you, his mouth moving against your neck as his hand roamed your body. You were squirming as you tried to patient, but it was getting harder for you, especially when his hand reached in between your thighs and rubbed you over your panties.

“So wet,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath giving you goosebumps. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

He pulled his hand away as he sat up, grabbing your hands for you to sit up, too. His hands reached around you to unhook your bra, his mouth not leaving your neck as he slid the straps down your arms and threw it to the other side of the room.

“We have to go to Tara’s soon,” you reminded him, as he pulled away and started to laugh.

“We’re probably going to be late.”

He leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You started to whimper as he sucked, pulling off it with a soft pop before he moved to the other side.

Once his lips trailed further down your body, you were trying so hard to be in the moment, but your mind started to wander. You practically worshiped the ground Ethan walked on, and all he wanted in that moment was you, but you still didn’t know if this was going to anything more than a friends with benefits situation, or if he wanted to be with you like you wanted to be with him.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he started to kiss your inner thighs.

“Mmm, it’s nothing,” you moaned once he started to suck your flesh into his mouth.

He pulled away to look at you, “No, tell me.”

You sighed in frustration, both from him stopping and you really didn’t want to pour your heart out to him in that moment. But he just kept staring at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’ve…fuck,” you sighed, taking a deep breath. “I want this…but I need to know how you feel about me.”

He smiled at you as your blush spread across your cheeks. “You haven’t realized that I’m in love with you yet?”

“In love with me?” you asked, as he slid your panties down your legs.

“Mhm, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he said, before he buried his head between your thighs.

“Shit,” you gasped, as his tongue licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit.

He started to focus on your clit, giving all the attention to your needy bundle of nerves. You looked down to see that he was watching you, taking in all the little faces you were making. He was alternating between swirling and lightly sucking, the stimulation making your entire body feel hot.

He slid one of his fingers inside of you, your legs feeling shaky as he moved it against the spot inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed. He watched you start to fall apart over just one finger, and once he added another one, you were a whimpering mess. He licked your clit a few more times before he pulled away to talk to you, his fingers still moving.

“You never told me how you feel about me,” he said, curving his fingers to apply more pressure.   

“Unfff, fuck,” you whined, your hands tightly gripping the comforter underneath you.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop,” he playfully said, smirking as his fingers brought you closer to the edge.

Your brain was turning to mush, but you pulled yourself together for a second, not wanting him to stop. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He leaned back down to your clit, sucking on it a little harder than he had before. Your whines got louder as the euphoric feeling washed over you, his free hand holding down your bucking hips. It felt so good that your eyes started to water, your entire body tingling as he worked you through it.

Just as you came down from your high, you heard a knock coming from your front door. You were too fucked out from Ethan’s fingers to even care, as he started to laugh.

“I bet that’s Tara,” he said, as he laid down beside you. “We’re late.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, lazily sliding your naked body off the side of your bed, landing on your feet.

You grabbed your robe and put it on, your legs still wobbly as you made your way to the front door. You looked out the peephole to see Tara and Mindy.

“Hey,” Tara said once you opened the door, her smile dropping once she noticed you weren’t dressed. “Are you still coming over?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you said, noticing both of them staring at something. “What?”

“Is Ethan here?” Mindy asked, a smirk playing on her lips as she realized what was going on.

“Yeah, we’ll both be over in a few,” you said, still not understanding what they were looking at.

“Okay…you might want to cover that up before you come over,” Mindy said, gesturing to your neck as Tara started to giggle.

You bit your bottom lip as the embarrassment hit, realizing that Ethan sucking on your neck earlier must’ve left a hickey.

“No, you know what? You guys finish whatever ‘studying’ you’re doing, then come over. We’re sorry for interrupting,” Tara said, fighting off her laughter as she and Mindy walked down the hall to her apartment.

You sighed as you closed the door, knowing that you and Ethan were definitely going to be grilled once you did go to Tara’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me you put this on my neck?” you said, glancing at it in the mirror after you walked back in your room.

“Are you embarrassed that they know you’re mine?” he questioned, walking up behind you. He rested his head against your shoulder, but your mind was in a haze once you felt his hard cock pressing against you.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to be yours? I’m definitely not embarrassed,” you said, making him laugh as he moved your hair to the side the place more kisses to your neck.

“Well, I did hear them say we should finish studying,” he said, as his hand reached over to untie your robe. “I’m not done studying you yet.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, when his hand started to massage one of your breasts, gently pinching at your nipple. Your back leaned against his chest as you relaxed into his touches, your breathing getting heavier as his hand trailed lower. “Can I be on top?”

“For a little bit, yeah,” he mumbled against you as his fingers rubbed across your still-soaked pussy. “Is that okay?”

“Mhm.”

You had so many things you wanted to do with Ethan, so many things you hadn’t experienced yet. Any nerves you had about your inexperience faded, your confidence showing as you got on top to straddle him.

“Take your time, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, as you grabbed his cock that was resting against his lower stomach. You lined him up with your entrance and started to sink down on him. “So tight,” he groaned, as you tried to get used to the stretched-out feeling. He wasn’t all the way in and you already felt so full.

“Mmm,” you moaned once you’d taken all of him, your ass meeting the top of his thighs.

You took a minute, trying to adjust your legs to the most comfortable position as his hands ran up your sides. Once you started to bounce on him, his hands went to your hips to help you move. Your bottom lip went in between your teeth as you held eye contact with him. Once he started to thrust up into you, your hands went to your breasts, massaging them as he helped your hips meet his.

He loved having you on top, and he loved watching the way your tits bounced, but he needed to be in control. He needed to push your limits a little until you were falling apart underneath him. He held your hips in place a few seconds before he flipped you over, a squeal flying out of your mouth. He smirked down at you before he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you with his hands.

“Stop me if anything hurts, okay?” he said, as you smiled and nodded. He slid back inside of you, his hands right below the back of your knees as he started to pound into you.

Your mouth fell open as he fucked you, every sound that built up in your throat flying out. He was so deep, but the tip of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust.

“That feel good?” he asked, pushing your legs closer to you. You babbled in response, the new angle making him go even deeper. “Look at you, so cock drunk, so perfect.”

All you could do was whimper as you felt yourself getting close. You were fighting to keep your fluttering eyes open, because you didn’t want to miss a single second of watching him. The beautiful boy that you’d fallen so hard for had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead that his curls were starting to stick to, his bottom lip was in between his teeth. You felt so submissive as you just laid there and took it. You were okay with him using you in whatever way he wanted, because you’d do anything for him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked, as he felt your walls start to flutter.

“Yes!” you cried out, your hands shakily gripping the comforter again as the wave crashed into you so hard your vision got fuzzy. You kept trying to talk as he fucked you through it, his teeth showing as he smiled at your babbles.

“I’m almost there, baby. Can you take it a little longer?” he asked as your eyes peeled open to look at him.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you moaned, as he sped up, chasing his orgasm.

Your body kept jolting like little aftershocks from the intensity of your own orgasm, and you were feeling a little overstimulated, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. He was going so fast and so deep as he panted, mumbling your name as his head started to roll back.

“Gonna…fuck. Cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his release all over your tummy. He caught his breath as he looked at you through his hooded eyes. You smiled at him as he moved to lay on the bed beside you.

“I think we need to shower,” you said, glancing down at his cum on you. “I don’t really have anything that has a manly scent, though.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get to smell like you,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your arm.

After your shower with Ethan, you concealed the giant purple mark on your neck and took the walk of shame over to Tara’s. Your friends got quiet as you walked in, glancing back and forth between you and Ethan.

“Sooo,” Chad said, noticing Ethan’s wet hair, “Did you two finally realize that you’re meant to be together?”

“Oh yeah,” Ethan said, as Chad walked over to dap him up.

“It’s about time. It was getting exhausting to watch the two of you,” Mindy said, as Tara nodded in agreement.

You, Ethan and Chad walked over to sit on the couch as Mindy pushed play on the movie she was waiting to start until you got there. After a few minutes, Chad looked over to Ethan.

“Dude, this is a little blunt, but you smell so good right now.”

You started to giggle as Ethan laughed and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close.

“He’s right, you do smell good.”

#ethan landry #scream smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #smut

[mxqdii]

Hi! Can you write something about how Mattheo or Theo would react to someone yelling and being really mean to y/n? It can be fluff or smut I will leave it to you❤️

what i was made for - m.s

pairings: mattheo riddle x reader

summary: mattheo comforting reader as she breaks down

warning(s): violence, comfort, mentions of killing curse, cursing, very sad ending (prepare yourself)

a/n: so originally, i was doing the request. but i ended up getting carried away with ideas.. and so if anybody wants me to make this a series i can !!

not proofread

it's been a really bad week.

everyone found out about my dad being a death eater, causing me to loose friends and people just viewing me differently

i get dirty look walking to class, whispering all around me, people gossiping and spreading lies.

it's hell

thankfully, i still have my friendgroup in slytherin, because at least they'll hear me out.

i also have my boyfriend mattheo

he's been nothing but sweet while everything has been chaos

he's helped me a lot, more then he'll ever know,

although, recently i've been more distant.

thing's have been getting harder, and i can't help but feel weak.

i don't want mattheo fighting all my battles for me, and also, it's just overall embarrassing

as i walk to potions, a group of girls stop in front of me.

i sigh, recognizing them instantly

they've been tormenting me this whole week

"what now" i say with a groan

"well, we just wanted to say we're sorry about what we said" one of the girls says and i keep my annoyed expression

"no you're not" i laugh

they all scoff and walk away, except one.

"go on now" i say, voice slightly raised.

"no, because you see.. they don't like you because of your dad, me on the other hand? i just don't like you." she says

i can't help but admit, her words caught me by surprise a bit.

"okay... why?" i say and she grins

"you don't remember me do you?"

i examine her face, trying to find the familiarity.

and then it hits me

"jasmine.." i mumble and she nods

jasmine was a girl in my class third year, she ended up leaving the school because of her ex.

"the look on your face? priceless. honestly, it was one of my reasons to come back" she says and i scoff

i see her tie her hair up

"you- you wanna fight me?!" i shout and she grins

"cmon, one way to settle this, you win? i'm gone, for good this time" she says nodding

next thing i know, jasmine is on the floor with a black eye and a broken nose.

i run back to the common room, getting stopped before i get there.

cormac.

"what happened? you finally get what you deserved?" he says, all his friends laughing

"fuck off" i say, trying to walk away

he grabs my wrist and i try to break out of his grasp but fail.

"let go of me!!" i shout, still trying to break free.

he abruptly lets go, making me fall.

him and his friends laugh and i stand up, tears filling my eyes.

i push him up against a wall, pointing my wand to his throat.

"you fucking mess with me again i'll avada kedavra your ass you understand?" i yell and he doesn't say anything, eyes widening

"do you understand??" i yell louder this time and he nods in fear

i loosen my grip, my wand now not being so pushed up against him, looking around i see all his friends looking at me terrified, looking the other direction i see mattheo.

i put my wand away, walking to my dorm, looking down the whole time.

closing my door, i break down completely.

i threatened someone with the killing curse

it hits me then suddenly,

i'm becoming just like my father.

i hear a knock on my door, not bothering to answer.

the door opens anyway, making me wipe my tears and any possible blood on my face

i'm met with mattheos soft gaze, the concern and worry in his eyes.

"get out!" i yell

"no" he says, walking closer to me

"mattheo.. GET OUT!!!" i shout

he's now inches away.

"get out, get out, get out." i say repeatedly, hitting his chest.

"let it out, it's okay" he mumbles softly

i eventually give up, just falling to my knees sobbing

he pulls me into a hug, stroking my hair.

after what feels like forever, but what was probably only a minute, i wipe my tears and sigh.

"sorry, i'm okay" i say sniffling

"stop telling me you're okay, you're not." he says and i look down in defeat.

"cmon" he says, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the bathroom

he grabs q-tips and hydrogen peroxide, cleaning the cuts on my face

the stinging doesn't phase me at this point, being too numb to really care.

"i'm becoming my father" i mumble and he stops his actions

"what? no you're not" he says and i scoff

"i threatened cormac with the killing curse mattheo, thats not something someone says in a civil conversation. i'd be surprised if i dont get expelled" i express

"i'll talk to mcgonagall about it okay?" he mumbles and i nod

after cleaning my wounds, we head into bed.

he wraps his arms around me, feeling overwhelmed by his warmth, i fall asleep.

i wake up in the middle of the night, gathering a sweater and my shoes.

i tiptoe out of my dorm to the astronomy tower.

i think about everything thats happened this past week

people finding out about my father, people hating me, threatning cormac.

it's that moment that a flip inside of me flips

a moment of clarity, realization.

i hear footsteps behind me, turning around and seeing the exact person i called for

"i'm ready" i say to him, walking closer.

in the end, all of this, it's all apart of the journey. because i am my father, and i couldn't come to terms with it before, but i am now, i can't deny destiny.

"you will be great, just as your father is." he says and i nod

"thank you, my lord" i say, looking at my wrist seeing the deatheater mark.

looking down at it, i smile, i feel complete.

i liked the power i had over cormac, the rush, the adrenaline. i liked fighting jasmine, that feeling of control.

about jasmine by the way, forgot to mention.. she was my ex. and she left because of me, she found out about my father and i told her to leave, and if she ever came back i'd have him kill her.

that was the start, where everything started going wrong.

i hear footsteps coming up the stairs, seeing mattheo.

"baby why'd you-" he starts speaking, but i notice his gaze shifting to my wrist

his eyes widen and fill with tears

"no... you didn't" he says in disbelief

"th-thats not fair.. i did what i was supposed to do..!" he shouts

i look at him in confusion

"i tried so hard, so hard. to make sure you never got the mark, i did everything, begged him not to" he explains

"mattheo, i did this, it was me."

the look on his face changes, changes to digust and shame.

"you wanted this?!?!" he shouts, tears falling down his face

"who.. who are you?" he cries, looking me up in down with that disgusted expression.

"mattheo.. think of how great we could be, we could be a team. do this together-" i start

"together? together?!?!" he yells

"you want me to- how long? how long have you been planning this?" he asks

"you don't want me to answer that mattheo." i say in honesty

"i hurt people mattheo, it's all i'm good at. i'm sorry you were the one to love me, when i told you not to, you should have listened" i added

"you were right, you are your father." he says in horror and i smile

"takes one to know one" i say, adding on a final goodbye,

"goodbye mattheo"

a/n: could make this into a potential series if anyone would want that, lmk!!

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #harry potter #hogwarts #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #voldemort #lord voldemort #angst #sad ending #death eaters #dark mark #betrayal #madispeaks!

[shewrites02]

Forgive Me, if I Break You |Zoro x Reader| Part I

Part II

Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, Alcohol, verbal abuse, Sexual implications-almost light smut if you squint. THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI !

A/N: This will be my very first series on tumblr, I am excited and petrified lol. I know this fic contains some sensitive subjects/material/feelings I just hope that I am able to handle them with care and do them justice.

This story is inspired by @turtletaubwrites , all her writing really lol, but “A Good Catch” Shank x Reader story sparked the idea that lead me here. You owe it to yourselves to give her works a read ! Thank you again for sharing and allowing others to be inspired!

Request: Open

Word count: 8.1K

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

For a brief moment you are able to convince yourself only you and Zoro reside on the beach- on the island. Zoro wraps around your shoulders to draw you into his chest. He rests his head on top of yours when you lean to lay against him. The two of you stare up at the twinkling stars.

The chill of the breeze rises goosebumps on your exposed flesh. The cold grows harsher the further into the night it gets. Zoro's skin is warm against yours. The heat that radiates off him compensates for the thin blanket that encases both of you. Part of you wished you had enough foresight to have brought thicker blankets, but the indulgent feeling of the swordsman's bare skin against yours, quickly dismisses the fleeting thought.

Zoro keeps you close. His arm drapes over you, practically forcing your body on top of his. Using the tip of his finger, he swirls circles lightly on your shoulder. Part of you believes the swordsman enjoyed feeling your bare skin just as much as you did his. The circles are replaced with small kisses, trailing up until Zoro's lips are at the edge of your jaw.

"I wouldn't have taken you for the sex on the beach type." He offers you one of those genuine, uninhibited laughs. The kind that forces his lips into a smile, and crinkles the edge of his eye. The laugh that made your bones shudder every time you were lucky enough to hear it.

"I guess there's a lot you don't know about me, Roronoa." You tease. He presses a kiss into your temple in response. You can feel his smile against your skin.

"I guess there is."

Silence befalls the two of you. Comfortable, but heavy. Two more days. That is all the time you and the pirate have left. The intrusive reminder was becoming difficult to ignore. Two more days before you would have to give up his comfort. Two more days before it is back to darkness and lonely nights...

You almost forgot life could feel this good. That love could feel this good. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought of a loveless life. A life without Zoro.

"Tell me something." The swordsman demands.

Your face scrunches in confusion. Zoro looks down to meet your eyes once you don't respond. His expression is soft, sad, but a small grin still rests on his lips.

"Tell me something about yourself. Anything."

You ponder for a moment, ciphering through the pieces of yourself worthy of the swordsman. Finding it difficult to have something to share.

"Summer is my favorite season. I love the feeling of the sun against my skin... it makes me feel free."

"Your turn! Tell me something!" You demand before Zoro has an opportunity to respond. His face softens more with each passing second.

"...I'm going to miss you."

Zoro nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, leaving only his reddened ears for you to see. His green hair ruffles underneath your chin and along your cheek.

"I know- we only have two days left, but if I don't tell you this now, I don't think I ever will."

You can hear the deep breath he makes, as if preparing himself. His hold on your waist tightens some. When he continues his voice is barely a whisper.

"I love you... I love you so much the thought of you leaving-" The swordsman does not continue. Allows his words to sit in the air.

Your eyes close at his proclamation. Your brain pauses as if needing a moment to scribe this into your memory. Zoro trembles lightly against you in anticipation. You are sure to have a heart attack if your pulse does not slow. If your heart doesn't stop trying to violently claw its way out your chest and into the swordsman's hands. 

Listening to his sentiments is the most euphoric torture you've ever experienced. You know there's an ask in his proclamation, understand that he expects an answer.

"I love you too Zoro, so much it scares me." You confess. "... I wish I could stay."

Zoro lifts his head just enough to plant a kiss to your neck. A sigh falls from his lips. You hope it's of relief, but it sounds more of disappointment.

Stay.

You and the pirate both knew this beach was home to neither one of you.

"Me too." He whispers.

-

Though you shouldn't find joy in their misfortune, you find yourself thanking the Marine admiral that drove the Strawhat pirates your way. Thanking this tiny island for having such a lengthy waitlist for materials. Every second you get to spend with Roronoa Zoro is truly a priceless gift.

Zoro's smile is the widest you've seen it as he guides you around, giving you a tour of their ship. "The Sunny". The captain was sure to inform you of the name immediately after your boarding. Their shipwright had done an amazing job with the repairs. No evidence of their prior squabble remained.

Zoro tugs your hand along to follow him, a wide grin still on his face. Part of you curses the swordsman for gatekeeping his smile for so long. Holding out on a treasure in spite of your limited time. You could hate him for it , but he pays it forward so often . Reserving a special tenderness just for you.

"I want to show you something." He announces pulling you along.

The sight of seeing the entire ocean from the crow's nest is breathtaking. The sun sets on the horizon, its rays beam off the water. The ripples in the water make the illusion of twinkles. It's a hard sight to take your eyes off of. You never remembered the sea gleaming this way back home.

"We can sleep up here?" Zoro hinted. His voice is small, meek, you almost think he is fearful you might reject him. The stoic swordsman invites you to share a night in his favorite spot...

How could you deny him that memory?

"That sounds great Zoro."

The smile that spreads on his lips wider than the one on the deck of the sunny. You feel that resentful sting in your heart once again, quickly soothed by the swordsman's warmth.

"Stay right here." With a kiss on your cheek he is gone.

When Zoro returns his arms are full of blankets and pillows. He drops them to the floor and with as much earnestness as a kid at a sleepover , sets up the makeshift bed. He leans the pillows against the wall opposite of the windows, spreading one blanket fully before lazily dropping the others.

Once satisfied with his work, Zoro offers you his hand to join him. His back is against the wall. You lay in his arms. The two of you listen to the peaceful lull of the water.

"Tell me one more time." The swordsman whispers in your ear

It is so warm in his embrace. He Nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, littering you with light kisses awaiting your response. There's no need for clarification. You understand his request.

"I love you Zoro... God, do I love you."

The giggle that erupts from your lips is involuntary. Could never hide how having the swordsman close affects you. Zoro squeezes your shoulders at the confession. Mules his satisfaction just loud enough for you to hear him. If you concentrated enough you were sure you could feel the pirate's pace quicken at your words.

"I love you too doll."

You were going to miss this... The feelings of Zoro's arms wrapped around you. Firm, but so gentle. Going to miss how the stoic swordsman gives you his heart to handle on a silver platter whenever the two of you are alone.

"...Excited to go home?" Zoro asks, As if sensing the tension that exudes from you. The reason the air was heavy against your chest. The reason he held you a little tighter tonight than usual. The colossal size elephant in the room...

This is your first and last night on the Sunny.

"I'm going to miss you." You respond softly.

Zoro kisses your temples . You aren't sure if he is trying to soothe your anxieties or his. You feel the pressure of his head laid against yours.

"I'm going to miss you too." The swordsman confesses.

You swallow harshly, refusing to sully your last night with tears. Don't deserve to wallow in self pity. You look up to face him, bringing your hand to lightly caress the side of his cheek. You don't deserve his comfort, his futile attempts to bring you peace of mind.

You are going to break him.

Absolutely. positively. Shatter him.

"I'm so happy you wrecked that tiny little boat." Zoro mumbles against your skin. Giving your hand a small kiss. The memory is a bittersweet recollection.

The sun had a personal vendetta against you and the heat was proof. It was Scorching. Sweltering. Neither adjective seemed strong enough. The rays blinded you as you blinked open your eyes. Meet with clear blue skies.

Were you dead? Was this some preliminary to hell?

There's muffled noises in the background. People? Animals?... Monsters? Your brain couldn't distinguish. Too busy using its power to attempt to wriggle your fingers beneath you. Sand?

"Are you okay?"

The first thing you noticed was green hair. The second was his handsome face, and lastly his swords. Three swords. A handsome three sword swordsman, your brain had finally deduced. Although you still had not answered his question.

He kneeled to the right of you, looming over your face so your eyes met him.

"Hey woman, you okay?" The man repeated his tone a bit more gruff than before. The way his brow slightly twitched implied he wouldn't be repeating himself for a third time.

"Where am I?"

The swordsman leaned back as you slowly pushed your torso up from the sand. Surveying the area, you took note of the ocean a few feet away, the large coconut trees behind you nestled by the rustling bushes that perimeter the beach. A group emerges from the foliage, filled mostly with smiles, though you could make out a few complaints.

"There's the dumbass!" A blonde haired man pointed over. His expression seemed to soften drastically once he noticed you. a wide smile replacing his scowl. " Oh mademoiselle."

You look up at the swordsman when you notice his grimace. The same twitch of the brow he had displayed earlier, except now they were furrowed to the center of his face in a frown.

"Zoro! I thought I said 'stick with the group'!" An orange haired woman reprimanded as she and the others approached.

"Zoro?" You repeated to the swordsman, who still eyed you intently. He nodded.

"Are you okay?"

He seemed to cave now that he had noticed the bruises that covered you. you went to pull your robe around your shoulders to cover yourself, but the fluffy material was nowhere to be found. It's only then you noticed your slippers were gone too. bare feet embedded in the sand. you were left only in the slip gown you had left in.

"I'm fine." You mutter pushing yourself from the ground so you could stand. Your eyes scatter the wide beach, if maybe you could find your boat washed ashore you could find your robe.

"I think that's your boat." The swordsman, Zoro, pointed over to the pile of driftwood floating around a small sea stack on the edge of the shore. The gasp that left your lips was guttural.

"I'm a doctor, I can help if you're injured." The small reindeer pleaded as he approached.

"Where am I?" You repeated.

"According to this map, where on Shinryoku Island, just off the coast of..." The orange hair woman wrestles with the map in her hand for a second longer before lowering it to meet you. "A village called Gekka."

"You're bleeding." The swordsman- Zoro said pointing to the cut that trailed your calf. He went to reach for you, but you refused his help. Stepping back to avoid his touch, your weight landed on your injured calf. Your body hit the sand with a loud thud.

The blonde hair man let out a cry. He went to run to your aide, but another woman, a devil fruit user, had blossomed hands to grab the man's ankles. Stopping him in his tracks.

Again, Zoro kneeled beside you, this time he did not try to touch you. He even tried to tuck his swords further out his reach as if that were to bring you some comfort.

"We are not going to hurt you... let my friend help you."

You agreed with a small nod of your head. Not seeing much choice you had otherwise. Cautiously the reindeer approached.

"My name is Chopper." He said taking a seat beside you. Riffling through his backpack he began to pull out gauze and alcohol pads.

"How'd you get stuck out here anyway?" The man in the straw hat asked.

"That's none of your business Luffy!" Zoro scolds.

"I got caught in a storm, my boat capsized- I don't really know what happened after that."

Strawhat hummed in satisfaction at your answer. Assumed that it was more so from getting his way, than your actual response.

"Where were you headed- if you don't mind me asking." The devil fruit user asks.

Your mind tumbled for an answer. Where were you going? 'Just away' didn't seem like a sufficient enough answer. Especially when you had only made it to the other side of your little island.

"Home." You lie, regretting the moment it fell from your lips.

"We can take you!" Strawhat offers gleefully, a smile spreads the whole length of his face. One that shows all his teeth. "You know, since your tiny boat is smashed."

"Maybe we should repair our own ship before we start giving out rides!" The orange haired woman scolds.

By the log pose on her wrist you assume she is a navigator. log pose. In your fervid flee you hadn't even thought to grab a log pose. No money. No clothes. No food. Just you and the boat. The woman's question started to echo in your ears- 'Where were you going?'

pathetic. useless. how could you be so stupid-

"I'll have the sunny fixed up in a super amount of time, don't you worry Captain!" The cyborg- shipwright assured.

"So it settled, after Sunny is repaired we will take you home!"

"You didn't even let her answer Luffy." The navigator reprimands.

Suddenly more than just the swordsman, began to eye you expectantly. Your boat was smashed into a million pieces, along with your chances of ever escaping this island. There was nowhere left for you to go.

"Okay."

The swordsman lets out a small chuckle that brings your attention back to him. Amusement has taken the place of that  somber expression previously on Zoro's face. 

"I guess I should thank Luffy for pissing off the marines. If it wasn't for that we would have never met."

The smile you give in response is weak, but it is all that you can muster. You drop your hand from Zoro's face so that you can face forward to look out the windows. Don't have the strength to face the swordsman as you speak.

"Thank you Zoro, for loving me. It's been so long since I've felt like this."

"You don't have to thank me." He says without missing a beat. "It's an honor to love you."

-

You can hear it already. The cheers of the villagers. Ringing in your ears like an alarm. The palms of your hands are cold, clammy. You're thankful for the blistering sun. Won't have to explain the sudden sweat that beads at your brow. The praise draws nearer as the town wall comes into view. A large white stone arch entrance, adorned with ornate olive leaf carvings. A wreath centering the wide gated structure. 

"You okay?" Zoro asks, reaching out to grasp your hand. The thumping of your heart almost drowns out his voice. Quickly, before he can grab you, you snatch your hand away. Awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck to mask the jerky movement. With a feigned smile you glance over at him.

"Yeah." You lie. The furrow of his brow alludes  to his disbelief, but the pirate does not press any further. Two guards meet you, as you all approach, bending at the waist before offering a kind genuine smile.

"We are so glad to have you home Lady Misatori. " 

"We were all so worried about you."

Their voices are difficult to make out over the applause, but your temporary crewmates had heard your title all the same. The bewilderment is clear on their faces. Perhaps they hadn't asked any questions yet, but they were sure to come. 

"We thought we lost you, and so soon after losing your f-"

"Thank you. I'm glad to be home safe." You smile, offering a kind nod then proceed to guide your friends through the barrier.

Citizens fill the streets of the town with smiles of joy and tears of relief. Although people stand shoulder to shoulder, essentially on top of one another trying to get a glimpse of your return, the path before you all is split like the red sea. Free of impediment, you all travel up the hill along the unpaved path, accompanied by praise the entire way.

As you walk, you're nauseated at the sight before you. The homes that laid in rumble just beyond your line of sight. The crowd posed as the perfect distraction, drawing the pirates' attention away from the destruction. You probably wouldn't have noticed yourself if the lemon grove, your mother's favorite place, wasn't missing from the countryside. The homes central of the village, easily eyed by the public, seem to be the only ones spared from the Chief's rampage

"Are they throwing you a parade?" The pirate captain asks, a wide grin on his face. If his eyes fill with any more admiration they may turn to stars.

You let out a pained laugh, dismissively waving away Luffy's question. The irony. A parade. This was more kin to a walk of shame. The cheers of the people, the chorus to your persecution. The Strawhats nor the villagers none the wiser. The others do not chime in, but you are sure they are just as curious as their captain.

A tiny castle resides at the top of the hill. Your home. Nothing like the regal structures you've heard stories about while stranded on the beach with the Srawhats, but sizable all the same. Once you arrive you can see him sitting at the castle steps with a wide smile on his face. As he watches you approach he stands, outstretching his arms attempting to welcome you into a hug.

"Darling! I thought I'd never see you again, I'm so relieved."

You feel the moment Zoro's eye falls on you, there's an unrelenting squeeze on your heart. Don't need to look his way to know the frown that has settled on his face. Know anger has taken over his expression.

"Darling?" The swordsman mutters to you.

It's as if you are a marionette, operated by the sound of his voice the way your body moves on its own. abandoning the green haired pirate to walk into the man's deceitfully warm embrace.

"I'm home now." You respond feeling the shackles being placed back on your ankles with each word slipped out your mouth.

"Introduce me to your friends." He demands, releasing your hold just enough to allow you both to face them.

It's impossible not to allow your gaze to immediately fall on the swordsman. To see the heartbroken look in his eye. His eye glued to the way the man's hands rested around your waist. A frown seared onto his brows just as you had expected, but when he finally meets your gaze his expression-

"These are the Strawhat pirates. This is their captain Monkey D. Luffy." You turn your attention to the captain unable to watch as the next words come out your mouth. "Luffy. This is Lee Misatori... my Husband."

"Chief Misatori." He corrects, chuckling lightly while reaching out to shake Luffy's hand.

"They saved me from the kidnappers, then graciously offered to bring me home."

For the first time since you arrived home, all eyes weren't on you. The strawhats had all turned their attention to the first mate. All mouths slightly agape awaiting his reaction. It isn't hard to predict what the swordsman will give you. Rage.  Grief.  Anguish.

"Husband?" Zoro parrots back to you.

The swordsman looks broken, shattered to a million pieces in front of you. The waves of emotion clearly passed on his face. An unusual display from the reserved first mate. Confusion, sadness, then anger. Only anger.

You give him pleading eyes. Can only hope that he does not make a scene here. Willing to give the swordsman all the time to yell at you later. 

Maybe he notices the way your eyes implore him to play along. Maybe it is genuinely shock that drives him, but the swordsman removes the hand he had placed on his sword's hilt then walks away.

"Oh god, he's going to get lost." The cook mumbles trailing behind him.

-

The last taste of freedom leaves your tongue as you hear the tall wrought iron double doors close behind you. Not Nearly enough to satiate your appetite. Lee stops at the bottom of the grand staircase, turning to face the pirate crew.

"I can't thank you enough for returning my wife... I haven't been the same since she went missing." He smiles over at you squeezing your hand, he has refused to let you go since you've gotten back.

"Please, let us repay your kindness. Stay a few days, our housekeeper can show you to your rooms? "

"We'd love to!" Luffy agrees. 

"Do you mind if y/n escorts us though? We just can't quite bear to let her go just yet." Nami asks, a tooth achingly sweet smile on her face. Her voice is a tone of amiable you've never heard before.

Lee digs his nails into the back of your hand at the mention of your departure. His face shows none of the signs of hesitation you can feel coursing through him . That same inviting smile is still on his lips.

"Sure." Lee grits out through his teeth. He turns to look down at you, lowering his volume so it is reserved for you. "Come right back when you're done !"

The Strawhats are kind enough to wait until they bombard you with questions. Know better than to ask in mixed company. When you push through the door to show Nami her bedroom , all the pirates follow. They stand in the suite staring, awaiting your anticipated explanation

"I- I did not mean to lie to all of you." Tears begin to swell in your throat, tears that don't deserve to fall. Tears you choke and swallow down. 

"Are you a princess?" Chopper asks.

"I- uh" you stammer, finding the words to formulate the precarious situation you are in. "My father was chief of the village. I am his only child, but as a woman I cannot inherit his title. So whomever is chosen to be my husband is to be his predecessor. Lee was chosen to be my betrothed six months ago.  "

"So You've been married for six months?" Usopp asks, his face filled with confusion.

You nod.

"So you lied to Zoro?"

It is posed as a question, but the captain lets the words fall out his mouth like fact. Zoro- His heart broken face flashes in your mind. A look you were sure you would remember even well into old age. It takes everything in you not to wince at the image. 

"I really do love him, Luffy. It's not- that simple."

"So explain it to us, because right now all we see is a woman who hurt our friend." Nami announces. The rest of the crew nod, seemingly sharing her sentiments.

"A month after the wedding my father suddenly died. Lee was appointed Chief the next day."

"You're a Chieftess." Robin announces.

"I have a duty to these people- my people. I won't leave them to suffer, even if it means... me and Zoro end up heartbroken."

Duty. That was something that all the Strawhats could understand. Even if your actions were an enigma to them. 

"Will he ever forgive me?" You ask no one in particular. Hoping that someone will ease your worries, provide you with comfort. Instead the room falls silent.

"Why did you lie to your husband about how we all met? We didn't save you from anyone."  Nami asks, her tone seems softer this time.

"Lee can't know I spent two months on the other side of the island. please." You plead.

-

Your fingers rest on the door knob to the shared bedroom. Once you cross the threshold, that was it. The last of your freedom would truly be stripped away. You caress the knob lightly, as if willing it to disappear at your touch. as if thoughts alone could vanish the tall doors that stood before you. 

Lee does not face you when you walk into the room. Keeps his back turned to display his dismay. He is waiting. you know what for, an apology- wants you to grovel on your knees for him. Even if he  believed you had gotten kidnapped, you still left him and that was a punishable sin.

"I missed you." He lies. "Come here."

When Lee finally does face you , his lips have curled into a devilish smile. He reaches out to draw you in, letting his free hand rest against your cheek. He whispers when he speaks.

"Do you have something you want to tell me?"

He wraps his arms around your shoulder to bring you into his chest, forcing you into a hug. 

"I'm sorry I was gone so long... I missed you too." The words tasted bitter as they fell. Like your tongue had forgotten the flavor of empty endearments since being in the swordsman's presence.

The Chief draws away just far enough to examine your face. His hand returns to wrap firmly around your jaw to squeeze your cheeks. His eyes pierce yours.

"When I first heard you went missing- I thought you had left me, run off somewhere. But you wouldn't do that, would you? ... leave me?"

"Of course not, Honey. You are my husband, I'm not going anywhere." You answer, unsure if the words are a reminder for him or yourself. Despite the panic that starts to grow in the pit of your stomach, you remain still. Maintaining the focus your husband demands.

"I'm so happy to be home."

Lee hums in satisfaction at your response. Rehearsed. Polished. Perfect. Just like you were to be. Just how he wanted you to be. He sweeps a strand of your hair out your face. The gentle touch is a precursor to the kiss he presses to your check. Your participation prize, a reward for a job well done. For remembering your training.

Lee drops his hands from you, done playing, then turns to make his way into the shared bathroom. In spite of your efforts a sigh of relief escapes. Finally feeling as though you could breathe without the man inspecting your every move.

"The swordsman- what's his name?" Lee asks, calling out so you can hear him in the other room.

"Zoro."

"He seemed quite..." Lee pauses trying to find the right word. "Smitten with you."

The air in your lungs leaves just as quickly as it came. You curse whatever god has decided to play cruel tricks with your heart. You have returned home. Return to your responsibilities.  Was that not enough?  Did you have to be taunted with the swordsman  too? haunted by everything the two of you couldn't have. 

You stay quiet, won't risk incriminating yourself so early into your return. The man does not want an answer anyway. The statements that fall from his lips are law, not opinion.

"Do you think he has a crush on you?" Lee asks amused.

He walks into the room, wants to analyze your features while you think. The smile on his face is deviously wide. The chief was a beast and you were his prey. The innocent question, a trap set to devour you whole.

"I wouldn't know. I didn't spend much time with the swordsman, mainly just the navigator." You lie. knowing the real question he wants an answer to. Your husband nods, no indicator of satisfaction or delight.

"Get ready for dinner. Your friends are going to join us."

-

The small dining room houses a long horizontal table, a glass top that sits on gold regally sculpted legs. The table holds just enough room for the pirate crew, your husband, and you to sit comfortably. You sit at one end  while Lee the other. The Strawhats fill the seats on both sides. It is hard to keep your eyes from drifting to the empty seat to the right of you, and the identical opening mirrored on the opposite side.

"Will the swordsman and cook be joining us? Sanji and-" Lee asks Luffy, before the captain can answer he turns his attention to you. "Honey- what did you say his name was? Z- Zo-"

"Zoro." You say ending the sounds Lee mutters aimlessly trying to recall the name.

"Yes, Zoro! Will Zoro and Sanji be joining us, Captain?"

"I don't know." Luffy sings innocently. "Zoro seems pretty mad a-"

Before Luffy can finish his explanation there is a shuffling at the front door. It's loud, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. Expectantly staring at the entrance to the dining room, you all wait to see the source of the commotion. A few seconds pass before the culprits reveal themselves.

Sanji and Zoro.

The cook shoves the swordsman into the dining hall forcefully, although the smile on his face does not wain for a second. His pearly whites compensating for the scowl on Zoro's face.

"Let me apologize for our tardiness. Moss-head got us lost." Sanji announces to the room though he speaks to your husband.

As Lee responds with some feigned hospitable response, you watch the swordsman. Watch his eyes dance down the length of the table. Know he is hoping, praying the only seats left isn't anywhere near you.

You can pin the moment he deflates. Note how quickly his eye leaves yours. Never seeking them out as he accepts his fate, and walks the length of the table. Zoro chooses to sit to your right, leaving Sanji to sit to your left.

The cook spares you a small grin as he takes his seat. It is filled with warmth, but something else is hidden within it. In the way he doesn't flash his teeth to give you a full smile. It's disappointment. Pity.

"Y/n said you saved her from her kidnappers... you must have a formidable crew Luffy." Although masked in praise, you hear the challenge in Lee's statement. Emphasized by the way he addressed it to the captain specifically.

"Oh yeah, Me and My friends are super strong! That's the only way I am going to be King of the pirates!" Luffy exclaims. Nothing but mirth in his tone, completely oblivious to the antics of the chief. Lee lets out a laugh in response.  Part of you believes he may genuinely find amusement from the pirate, a bigger part of you knows that isn't the case. 

Now that the table is full Lee orders the kitchen staff to start dinner.

"Can I get a bottle of Sake?" Zoro mumbles to the woman who fills his glass with water.  The woman nods, then goes to fulfill his request. It's difficult not to be jealous. The swordsman gets to indulge, to drown his thoughts. That is not a luxury you have. The days of sake and beer flowing freely forever to be memories.

You plopped down beside the green haired pirate, your body making a thud as it hit the sand. His eyebrows raised to his temple giving way to his surprise. For a split second you found yourself wondering whether it was that you'd gone out your way to seek the swordsman out, or if it was that you'd finally decided to have an ounce of fun that had him so shocked.  The giggle that erupted from seeing his expression kept you from pondering for too long. 

"You really can't hold your liquor." The swordsman muttered, his lips curling up slightly. The closest to a smile you had seen them get in the four weeks you had all been together.

"I'm not allowed to drink at home so my tol-"

"Not allowed?" Zoro cut you off. Your eyes grew wide at the repetition of your words, cursing the alcohol for making you speak so freely. Your mouth opened to protest, back peddle, before you could the pirate let out a laugh.

"Is it because you're such an annoying drunk?" He teased

The alcohol lowered your inhibitions, kept  you from fighting against the visible drop your expression made.  You tried to laugh, dismiss the joke for what it was- a joke, did not want Zoro to notice your discomfort, but it was to no avail.

You had come to learn in these past weeks that the swordsman noticed everything.

Zoro reached to place his hand over yours, but hesitates. You assumed he wasn't trying to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were.  You blamed the alcohol for seeking out his affection. Intertwining your finger with his, so he  couldn't withdraw.

Zoro averted his gaze away from you to the waves calmly crashing into the shore. He rubbed his thumb lightly against yours.  Even with the alcohol to coax your action, you still trembled  in the hands of the pirate. Even so, Zoro's hold was strong, steady. 

"I think this is the first time I've seen you laugh. It's good to see you relaxing... was starting to think you don't trust us."

" I don't- can't-"

You stopped speaking. The only way to stop the liquor from forcing more incriminating words out your mouth.  Needed a moment to collect yourself, not used to the swirling feeling that impeded your thoughts.

"I have to protect myself. It's just me."  You muttered.

"... Doesn't have to be. Not here." He squeezed your hand as he turned to meet you. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

You had to fight the shiver that threatened to crawl down your spine, reminding yourself that four weeks was not enough time to know anyone, let alone a group of pirates. Trust was not something you could not afford to give out. The swordsman could not be an exception. .

"My crewmates are kind, probably too kind. You don't have to worry about them- well maybe the shit cook, but I'll make sure he doesn't touch you."

Zoro offered you a full smile, one that sunk your heart to the bottom of your stomach. Maybe it was the alcohol that charmed his words, you couldn't be sure, but they had affected you all the same. The pirate returned his attention to the ocean, leaving you relieved he did not expect a response.

"With such a strong crew I can only imagine the burden y/n must've been." Lee lets out an obnoxious laugh. It drags your attention to the table. "It's a good thing she is pretty. Thank you again for bringing her home safely."

The crew has fallen a bit quiet. The only one to respond is the oblivious captain with an enthusiastic "Your welcome." Seconds later he is muttering a pained cry , shooting Nami a confused glance.  

The awkward silence is relieved by the entrance of the kitchen staff. When Zoro's sake bottle reaches the table, Lee is quick to take notice. A small grin spreads on his face. You see the moment he gets the idea, the light bulbs as clear as his iris'. 

"Ahh what a wonderful idea swordsman. We should all share a toast- to the return of my wife!"

The staff moves quickly to bring out sake for the group, handing one to Luffy despite his protest- and answering his fifth question about dinner. When the woman gets to you she sits down a flute of sparkling cider. 

Zoro is the first to notice. His eye twitches over briefly, but he does not speak.

"You're not drinking love?" Sanji asks, his voice hushed, but your husband always keeps an ear out for endearments dotted upon you. 

"Oh y/n doesn't drink, we decided once we got married she would stop. Right honey?"

The smile on your face burns in a way you know you deserve. Your throat is traitorous for allowing a knot to form, for making your force the words out, when they had once come with ease. You had done this , acted , so many times before but- acting while on display for the swordsman felt like a special type of hell curated just for you.

"Yes Dear."

"She just gets so annoying it's embarrassing- no way for a woman, let alone a chief's wife to act." 

Lee is answering Sanji , but his eyes are on you. Their cold, pitiless, although his voice drips with sweetness.  The gleeful look on his face never waivers in spite of the growing discomfort in the room.  Nami and Robin look to you for guidance, looking for approval to be outraged, clearly not wanting to laugh along. The smile on your face soothes their worries.

"And I'd never want to do anything to embarrass honey. Why don't you Give your toast hun." You urge. 

This was punishment for how you hurt the pirate. Nothing less of  Divine retribution. You fight not to meet Zoro as you feel his eye linger on you.  There is no effort to hide the disdain on his face. There is an angered confusion easily seen in the way his brows furrow and his lips fight back a snarl. 

"To the return of my beautiful wife, and to the Strawhat pirates." 

Everyone raises their glasses, but Luffy nor Zoro take a drink. There was a part of you relieved at the tension in the air. That your friends are uncomfortable with the indignities your husband throws at you. There were many dinners you sat through, cringing as the whole table laughed at his snide jokes. For a while you believed it your fault for being hurt,  too sensitive for not being able to laugh at your expense the way the others could. Lee always said you spoiled the fun when he reprimanded you later for not joining in.  

The silence is once again relieved by the kitchen staff entering ,bringing out the entrees. Luffy squeals with pure joy and anticipation. The captain had been waiting as patiently as he possible could to finally eat. The other plates have not even hit the table before he is half way through his pasta.  The sight is the only thing to bring a genuine smile on your face all night. 

"It's as good as you promised, y/n!" Luffy's mouth is full as he says his praises. 

"Eating with your mouth full is rude Luffy!"  Sanji lets out an exasperated sigh. The captain has a confused look on his face, though he has not taken any time to stop eating. 

"It's okay, I'm glad you like it, Luffy." 

"What about you Zoro, think the meal is everything my wife promised it would be?" 

Your mouth goes dry at the sound of the swordsman's name coming out of Lee's mouth. Suddenly starting to think you weren't as convincing as you thought earlier in the day. Lee had decided to take it upon himself to solve the mystery of the swordsman's feelings for you. 

There's some feigned solace in knowing Zoro probably hates you. That Lee would poke and prod to find the Strawhat's first mate merely  harbored resentment and ill will towards you. Though the process would be  painful. 

"The food is fine." Zoro responds, still looking at his plate. 

His dismissal only stoked the flames of Lee's infatuation more.  You can see the glimmer that raises in the chief's eyes. 

"I've never seen a swordsman with three swords..." Lee's voice leans more toward a mocking tone than an inquisitive one. 

"I'm a master of three sword style." 

"Zoro is gonna be the best swordsman in the world!" Luffy exclaims. 

"Really? I always assumed a swordsman who needed more than one blade was... overcompensating." Lee brings his glass to his lips to drink. The chuckle the cook fails to muffle deepens the scowl on Zoro's face. 

 Zoro glances over at the Chief then, for the first time since he walked into the dinning room, he makes eye contact with you.  It's difficult to not squirm under his gaze. Your cheeks burn under his stare, the warmth so violent it spreads the length of your skin.

A small crooked smirk creeps its way onto the swordsman's lips as he looks you over. This time the pirate lets out a laugh. It is the first display of joy he has shown since setting foot in your village.

"I don't have anything to overcompensate for." He takes a shot of Sake, licking his bottom lip to catch the drops that spill over. "I don't get any complaints." 

Zoro peaked up from in between your thighs. In spite of not being able to make out his lower half , you knew a crooked smile rested on his lips. That same cocky smile he wore every time he made you cum.  

"You tapping out on me princess?" He asked, giving the inside of your thigh a whisper of a kiss. The faint touch still has you jolting at the sensation.  The way Zoro's arms wrap around your  thighs kept you from going too far.  

"is too much Zo." You whined, hands clenched around the sand, leg limp over the swordsman's shoulders. 

Zoro spared you a merciful laugh as  he rested your legs on the sand. He leaned back on his heels to look at you. Sprawled lazily, dress hiked just enough to give him the access he begged for.  Sweat beaded at your brow not only from the heady force of your fourth orgasm, but the humid air.  A full smile appeared on Zoro's lips at the sight. 

The way his eye gleamed with adoration and love rivals the moon. His stare was enough to illuminate the entire beach. It took every bit of will you had to not shrink underneath him, to feel deserving of  the way he worshiped you.  

The pirate leaned down to hover over you, planting his hands into the sand, one on either side of your head.   He gently places a kiss to your lips then another.  You could still taste the way you coated him. 

"I'll spare you this time."  He mumbled , before laying on the sand next to you. 

Instinctively, you rolled your chest into the swordsman, lazily throwing your leg over his so it rested between his thighs. Even with your body pressed into his you craved to be closer to him. Although the swordsman had explored every inch of you, and you him, it never seemed to be enough.

Your cheeks up to your ears burned at the confession swelling in your throat. Embarrassment not great enough to keep it shoved down somewhere convenient- comfortable. Instead the sentiment clawed its way out tooth and nail. 

"You make me feel so good Zoro-"  

"Yeah? You trying to let the whole beach know with how loud you were yelling my name?" You slapped your hand into his chest forcing another laugh from the pirate. It did not deter him from continuing his teasing.  "I'm just saying, my crew is still pretty close, you could try to be quiet."  

"You're such an asshole! Now I'm not going to tell you the rest." You pouted. Your words are filled with malice although your tone and smile could not convey the same emotion.  Zoro chuckled then planted a kiss on your temple. 

"Tell me, please."  He implored, lips brushing against your ear.

It was hard to deny the swordsman anything when he asked so sweetly. Those manners are only allocated to you. Your eyes close while the words climb to the tip of your tongue. You turn your head away from Zoro completely. 

"You're the only man to ever make me orgasm." 

Zoro wrapped his fingers delicately around your chin. He tugged your face towards him. The fire that ignited in his eye was different than anything you'd seen from him before. There's a smile on his face, almost childlike in its giddiness. It was as if the notion was the best thing he'd ever heard in his life. 

The pirate crashed his lips into yours like they were the answer to his prayers.  Like he could pledge his devotion in your mouth and find salvation in your lungs.  Indignant. Needy. Desperate.  The two of you gasping heavily once separated. 

Zoro wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him, though not much space resided between the two of you to begin with. He kissed along your jaw down your neck until he reached your shoulder. 

"Fuck- Lemme do it one more time?" 

The small snickers coming from the pirate crew force your eyes to Lee. Immediately noting how his hands grip tightly around the napkin.  The Chief is not getting the reactions he is yearning for, hasn't realized this is far from some ordinary group of bandits he's dining with. You'd revel in the victory, if it hadn't meant your loss. 

"Chief Misatori, why don't you tell us more about your role? Y/n tells us you've recently moved into your position?" Robin asks. Her tone is so innocuous and innocent, it draws Lee from his testosterone filled rage. Your husband is eager at any opportunity to talk about himself, especially to a pretty woman. 

"Yes, after my wife's father passed I inherited his title. " 

"That must have been a lot of responsibility to take on so suddenly." Sanji adds. 

"It was, but I was hand picked for the job for a reason. It is work ,of course, but I can't imagine anyone else doing it." 

"I imagine you wouldn't implement any changes in policies considering being so new to power?" Robin phrases it as a question, but you see it for the shameless prying it is. The historian begging for answers as to why the townspeople, despite their cheers, seemed so riddled with grief. 

"I've made a few changes to ensure our people's safety. Y/n father was an amazing man, but- soft. "

There is an internal cringe at each mention of your father uttered from the newly appointed Chief's lips. Who was Lee to slander your father, the very man he has to thank for his title, The only reason he has this power to abuse so freely?

In the six months you had been married you watched Lee turn your village into something unrecognizable. The gates closed, patrol increased, and the villagers had been stripped of their voice entirely. The chief gave the final decree. Acted as judge, jury, and executioner. 

The villagers for the first time are fearful of what the chief's approach could mean for them. Constantly hoping to be spared from his wrath.  Too fearful to even speak ill of the chief in fear of his retaliation.  In fear their homes may look like the ones that resided in the countryside. 

Chief Lee Misatori is nothing  like my father hoped he would be. 

"A beloved man in the community, but he was never able to make the difficult decisions-" 

"Can we not discuss my dad, please honey." You plead, unable to sound any more like a beggar if you tried. There are tears swelling at the brims of your eyes at his mention. Angered you could not defend the man who raised you in the way that he deserved. Angry, your father had been deceived by such an evil man. 

These tears are harder to choke down. Prickly , and awkward the whole way down your throat. The swordsman reaches out to place his hand over yours, only grazing your fingertips as you draw your hand away. For the briefest moment you let your eyes flash to Zoro, praying the apology in your eyes is sincere enough to provide him any relief. 

Two times. Two times you had rejected the swordsman in this single day. Guilt floods your heart, taking up even more space than fear in your chest- despite the way Lee cuts his eyes  at you. 

"Of course  honey." He smiles.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part II

A/N: I hoping you all enjoyed ! I'm thinking this story will only be apart 3 parts. I have most of the story written actually lol so the feedback I get on part 1 will determine when I release part two. If you would like to be on the tag list please let me know I would love to have you.

taglist: @dinuxia-bhm

#one piece #zoro roronoa #oneshot #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x black reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x y/n #Forgive Me #If I break you

[inosukijiro]

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐓 ! ᝰ 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

ᯓ☆ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 : i love love love giyuu so much and i just want to give him all the love in the world. based on how i finally got thinning shears and have never been happier so i combined the two. weird concept but i enjoyed writing it.

! 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ¡ : mentions of depression !! may contain unhealthy hygiene habits and or unhealthy thoughts (brief s*icidal thought mention in the beginning) !! reader is referenced as from modern day era because i love this concept. this also might be really long.

𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 : hi sorry this IS very long actually thank you

Giyuu is depressed. It's not a weird phenomenon or something that people really need to think too hard about. He’s depressed and has been for a long, long time. Now in your eyes, you know that some of the other Hashira know that something is wrong. And as much as you love and appreciate the kind company of Mitsuri, Rengoku and Gyomei, sometimes you really dislike how they submit to the others when they begin to bad mouth him — behind his back and to his face.

He doesn’t take care of himself properly and it shows. It isn’t just that he has bags under his eyes that gives away that he's tired. Because he is. It’s the mix of tiredness and sadness that causes your heart to ache. His eyes express everything that he wants to say without having to say it at all. And if anyone had ever taken the time to really look at him, they would know. He looks tired of everyone and everything. He wants to go somewhere and never come back. It’s a shame a demon hadn’t killed him already, he feels. He wishes he could just die in a ditch, but that would be too good for him. But he can’t do that. Not to Sabito, not to his sister, and especially not to you.

You have been staying at his estate for months. He was surprised, like many of the other Hashira, that you have chosen him when given the choice. It had irked him at first and he wondered if this was some sick joke. But you moved in after being discharged from the Butterfly Mansion. You helped make breakfast, greeted him nicely in the morning, took the time to talk to him even if he didn't answer back. You often asked how his day was at the end of it. You thanked him too many times for him to count and Giyuu doesn’t remember being thanked this much. He doesn’t complain, but when you are more settled in as his estate being your new home he is much happier that the thanking has stopped. You didn’t invade his space disastrously, you were considerate of him and respectful. And even though he will never find himself good enough, he couldn’t say no to you when you wanted him to train you. Nothing crazy, just enough to defend yourself as you were indefinitely a long way away from home.

It really shouldn’t have come to a surprise to him that you figured out his tricks, his excuses. It wasn’t that he had ever tried to hide the fact that he wasn’t really caring for himself. No one would have noticed anyway and even if they did, they wouldn’t concern themselves too much with it. But you, on the other hand, were always keeping an eye on him closer than most. And sure there were many ways that he wasn’t taking care of himself that he could easily hide away from you if he was so adamant about it. But the one thing he couldn’t hide, from you at least, was his hair.

His hair is matted, and Giyuu will swear up and down that he does brush it. But that's a lie and you know it. He doesn’t have the motivation to sit there, whether it be in the morning or after a mission, to brush through all the knots and tangles. He's lucky he can manage enough energy to sit there in the bath till the water gets cold thinking about his life choices. But that's it. He’ll tell himself that he will wash his hair tomorrow, that he will deal with detangling it then too. He can’t even fathom doing anything else. The idea of taking the hair tie out almost makes him nauseous.

You notice this after a while. At first, you assume it's because of a mission. He lies too, and agrees. It's the easiest excuse he can come up with to keep you from worrying. Yeah, after a lengthy scuffle with a demon, it would have been safe to assume that his hair was going to get messed up. But then you notice it looks the same every time after that, even on days where he isn't being sent out. His hair looks half heartedly brushed on the top, to hide the knots probably pulling at his scalp. After staying with Giyuu for so long, you felt comfortable enough to try and help him, because you didn’t know how much longer you could watch this go on.

So here you are in Giyuu’s room. You didn’t have to plead with him too much, he had no energy to tell you that you didn’t need to. That you had no obligation to him just because you were living there. At this point, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish and grateful that an angel like you had come to save him.

On his futon, you’re taking your place behind him. He sits in between your legs. You comb and brush his hair after you had to cut the hair tie out. That's okay, you tell him. You can have one of mine, I have so many.

Your touch is so gentle and nice and Giyuu doesn’t know what to do. He almost wants to cry, honestly. Even as you take your time going through the jungle that is his hair, trying to preserve as many strands as you can. It’s taking hours, not that you mind. It’s bad and it was obvious that it was going to take a while anyway. But Giyuu can’t help feeling guilty. He knows that you offered, that it was your choice to help him, but it's late at night and you should be sleeping. Not sacrificing your time and energy on him.

However, every ounce of your touch is comforting. Even as you hit a knot. It should hurt. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Not when all he can feel is the lovely, tingly sensation that's flooding his body and mind. You even take the time to talk to him, filling the silence with your sultry voice. If it weren’t for that, he would have fallen asleep by now.

You talk to him about his hair, getting an idea of what to do. Because you can’t just leave his hair like this. As more time goes on and more clumps of hair start surrounding the sides of the futon, you realize you are going to have to cut his hair. The more the hairs start smoothing out, you see how uneven it is. One side is now longer than the other. He doesn’t want to cut all his hair off. He doesn’t want it short. He doesn’t think he can handle it being that short. Even if the change might do him some good, it’s still too much change. And you aren’t going to do anything that he doesn’t want you to.

So you suggest a clean up. You’re going to try and fix it up without cutting it too short. So afterwards, when you give one final brush through his hair, it's time to start. And Giyuu is sad? Maybe. He misses your hands in his hair a little too much. But the way you softly guide him to where his back is facing the edge of the futon. Oh boy. He knows that it really isn’t the best suited place to cut hair, but he trusts you. You are very meticulous in everything you do and very determined — happy, mind you — but determined nonetheless to finish this little project you started with him.

It really doesn’t take that long to cut it into shape. Giyuus hair is beautifully thick and after the trim, his curly waves are starting to shape up just a little bit. But something is missing. Sure, you could just tell him that you're done. Giyuu wouldn’t argue or complain. In fact, he probably would be on his knees thanking you for the tiniest bit of care. But that isn’t what you’re about to do.

Giyuu, for the first time that night, is calm. And the way you softly lean over the side of the futon to your bag and grab the thinning shears, Giyuu begins to feel something deep within himself. Perhaps it's a nice burst of anticipation. He feels tingly and happy. Giyuu heard you mention the shears before. He had never seen you use them, mainly because he had never been within his estate when you’ve decided to do so. But that doesn’t really matter.

You took the time to explain the scissors to him. Even if he already had an idea of what they were used for.

“These thinning scissors take off a lot of weight and make everything so much smoother. I don’t like my hair ending abruptly, especially if it's a bit below shoulder length. So, I’m going to smooth your hair out on the bottom so it matches this little bit over here. Okay? Okay.”

You continue to talk a little bit after that, but Giyuu doesn’t register any of it. You're doing so much for him now, almost too much. Undeservingly too much, but he doesn’t dare say a word. He just relishes in the light touch at the tips of his hair by your hand. He can feel the gentle touches at the end of his hair along his back. After taking the time to be so considerate for him he would’ve let you do whatever you wanted. And that’s what makes him feel even more. He can’t describe the feeling. But, he knows that even if he were to say that to you – that you could do whatever you wanted – you would have told him absolutely not because it was his body, his hair, his choice and it made him so humble: so comforted.

You are back behind him, standing on your knees hard at work. The gentle, soft touches had him melting and wondering what he did to deserve someone as sweet and considerate as you. Every so often you were touching the side of his face. He guessed you were fixing his bangs and the hair that framed his face, so it would match. Yes, that’s exactly what it was because you explained it to him in that beautiful, sultry voice that made it hard to focus on anything else.

And when you were done he was almost disappointed. Your touch was still buzzing along his nerves and he was desperate for attention again.

“Okay, all done.” You murmured softly to him. It was so painfully obvious that he is in some sort of bliss and you didn’t want to startle him out of it. “Go ahead and see how it looks and feels. Tell me how it is.”

You handed him a mirror and honestly, Giyuu was surprised that he was staring at himself. He looked clean? Sure, his hair was greasy. He hadn’t washed it in days and you had never once judged him for that. You had said that you’d help him with it after you cut it, so that it felt extra clean and all the little hairs from cutting would come out too.

He ran his fingers through his hair and it was so smooth.

Maybe it was smoother than you had explained or maybe it was because he combed his fingers through the entirety of his scalp, rather than just his bangs and a few pieces of caught out hair. His ends were light and feathery? The bottoms of his hair flowed nicely and now he understood what you were trying to do.

You're ushering him into the bathroom. You have to clean his futon now because you have to change the sheets. You were absent minded about it, but you were going to have to change it anyway. Giyuu hadn’t been taking care of himself obviously, that meant he hadn’t changed the sheets off of it in a while. Now you seriously had to given the fresh layer of hair covering his bed.

You did this quickly, changing the futon covers out with new ones, not stalling for time to help Giyuu wash his hair. Giyuu hadn’t even realized you would have to wash the futon tomorrow, that wasn’t a task for tonight. But by the time he’s in the water you’ve already done what you needed to do in his room and now your hands were back in his hair.

You scrub his hair and lather the shampoo, and for the thousandth time that night he wonders just how lucky he is. He wonders who allowed him to have this. Who allowed him to experience such love and care.

Now he’s tired, so incredibly tired that he really doesn’t know what to do. Well, no that isn't very true, he knows exactly what to do. Absolutely nothing. He’s out of the bath and in bed momentarily. No time was wasted. He can barely keep his eyes open by now. The futon is fresh and he’s in his sleeping clothes. He’s laying on top of you as if he were a warm blanket. He thinks, oh so briefly, about moving. You might get uncomfortable or sweat or get crushed by him during the night. But then that thought went away quickly. Faded away, never to return because you are running your fingers through his hair still.

It's like a reward at this point. He feels the need to be thanking you profusely, but he can barely utter a sound. If he were a dog, his tail would probably be wagging violently. No matter how long you’ve been together he is still touch starved. Sometimes he doesn’t allow himself the opportunity or luxury of you. You're too good for him – he doesn’t think he will ever stop thinking about it. But you’re patient with him and it makes his heart whole.

૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა thanks for reading babes ⊹

#giyuu x you #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #kny x reader #kny x you #no use of y/n #no y/n #demon slayer x reader #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #reader insert #oneshot #imagine #giyuu tomioka #giyuu tomioka x y/n #x you #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kny giyuu tomioka #giyuu tomioka my love #idk how to tag this

[keeganbrainmush]

141 + alejandro, rudy and könig with a THICKKK m/so

The 141 + Rudy & König with a ' thick ' male significant other

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I added abit of reader if they were insecure and them comforting reader, hope thats okay?? 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪They're short and sloppy since i wanted to get atleast something out this week before actually leaving for my hiatus sorry guys 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I had no idea if you meant thick by a fat ass or thick by chubby so I'm probably gonna write one with a reader with a bakery back there too if ykwim

navigation.

Cpt. John Price

He loves it, everything about you.

If you were ever insecure about it he'd be confused

How could someone as gorgeous as you be insecure?

He 100% believes himself to be a chair, do with that information as you will.

Likes resting his head on your belly or chest, listening to your heartbeat is a way for him to relax.

Simon " Ghost " Riley

His favorite part of you are your thighs.

Likes to hug you from behind and just feel on you.

He secretly loves the body heat you give off, since I believe he is naturally very cold in body temperature.

If you were ever insecure he'd simply ask what made you feel like that and try his best to comfort you.

I say try because he was never the best at comforting people if they were sad.

Great hugs though, 10/10 probably

John " Soap " MacTavish

He will always be addicted to you

Would probably use your love handles as a place to rest his handles during cuddling.

He'd try to convince you to get a belly button ring

If he managed to convince you, he'd encourage you to wear shorter shirts around the house so he can see it

If you were insecure about yourself he'd go on a rant about how your beautiful and you shouldn't be insecure for shite

He's just inlove with your love handles.

Kyle " Gaz " Garrick

Good lord he's annoying about your body but in a good way.

I personally think he's more of an ass man idk though

He likes resting on your ass like a pillow sometimes.

Kyle will just lay there with you on your chest and his chest on your ass while scrolling through his phone.

If you would be insecure he'd ask why you'd think of yourself like that while repeating that you're beautiful no matter what.

Alejandro Vargas

He comes from a hispanic household, thicker people will always be common.

Alejandro would love a thick boyfriend/husband.

Random but he loves cooking and he can make some BOMB ASS food. Like he would be one of those hispanic dads that would make international food and still make it taste amazing and authentic.

If you ever were sad about your body he'd be lowk mad honestly.

" ¿Qué te pasa? "

He wouldn't be mad at you, more at himself. He'd think he hasn't been loving you enough to make you feel like the most angelic person on earth.

Rodolfo " Rudy " Parra

Jesus on a stick, he is sucker for you

He's obsessed with everything about you

" The more there is of a partner, the more there is to love. "

He likes being held in your arms in the winter when you're cuddling with eachother

He is very much a lover who worries about you 24/7, so Rudy will always check up on you and ask if you're okay.

Will always make sure you're comfortable enough in your own body.

König

Lets be fr this mf is lowk a big boy too.

Not like super chubby where its noticeable with his gear or a shirt on, but once the clothes come off. The belly pudge is very clear.

He wouldn't care for shite if you're skinner or chubbier, he'd still be very likely to pick you up if you're shorter than him.

He can eat alot, he has a strangely quick metabolism so he can keep working out comfortably and not lose as much weight.

If you were insecure about yourself, he'd be kinda sad or confused.

" But you're so beautiful? Why would you feel bad? "

He would always want you to be as happy as you can with him, no matter what

#Keeganbrainmush #call of duty #keeganbrainmush #cod x male reader #call of duty x male reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #male reader #ghost simon riley #x male reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x male reader #john soap mactavish #konig #kyle garrick #konig x male reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #könig x male reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #alejandro x male reader #alejandro mw2 #mw2 x you #könig mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod mw22 #john mctavish

[magics-neptunes-things]

Collide (7)

Hi guys ♥

We come to the end of this series that I really enjoyed writing. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did and I thank again all those who took the time to comment or like the different chapters.

It was a big work and I'm kind of sad that it ends to be honest, but I think it's better to finish it this way :)

Enjoy ♥

TW : Kidnapping, hurt, angst, fear.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

______________________________________________________________

Your rehabilitation is going well, even if you find that the time is long to be completely honest. After four weeks you had the right to have your cast removed to make you put a splint, which has already helped you move a little better by yourself. After that you were able to start a rehabilitation, allowing you to quickly find the pitch. You miss playing football terribly and you don't know how you will do when you have to retire permanently. But you’d rather not think about it for now, focusing on the idea of playing again as soon as possible.

To pass the time during your rehabilitation, you started painting more than before. You are not tired enough to go to sleep after your workouts so you get tired using your concentration otherwise. You paint a bit of everything, without it being very precise. Landscapes, objects, memories of your childhood… You paint a bit of everything that goes through your head.

Leah likes to come and join you in your studio, apparently finding yourself with your long white shirt and painted hands particularly attractive. You’re not complaining, of course. You wouldn’t know why you feared Leah’s eyes on your painting until you really let her into your studio. Maybe because she knows a little about the subject and because what you paint is something you consider intimate. You never really let anyone see what you were painting. But again, Leah is different.

********

You come back from training, which you were able to participate in for the first time since your injury. Your leg is back as muscular as before and you managed to recover to play the last games of the season, including a very important England Cup final for the club.

You’re also at the same point with Chelsea to win the championship, which also means a lot to Arsenal. And for Leah, coming back on a double win would be something exceptional for her. And you hope that you and the team will be able to offer this to all of you. Your teammates are relieved to have you back and you are happy to be able to help them too. It's not yet a question of you going back to a game entirely from the beginning, but playing the joker of the second half suits you perfectly for the moment.

So you’re back from practice, lying on the couch in your living room watching Love Island. Alessia isn't with you tonight, stating that she intended to offer herself a good hot bath, certainly with a multitude of bath salt and candles.

You and Leah managed to sit on the couch, lying next to each other after dinner. Leah seems to be captivated by the screen but you are not really. Your gaze must weigh on her at least a minimum since she ends up turning her eyes on your face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the blonde wonders.

"For nothing" you mumble by biting your lower lip.

Your fingers gently push back a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. This isn't really the truth, since you have an idea that has been in your head for some time and you don't know how to propose it to Leah. Your lie doesn’t work at all about Leah arching an eyebrow.

"Since when you try to lie to me?"

You laugh slowly, letting your fingers slide over her jaw. You may have seen her daily for months, but you doubt that you will ever tire of the perfection of her facial features. You hit her gently on the nose when she pretends to bite you though.

"If I offer you something and you find it too strange, you agree to act like you didn’t hear anything?"

Your question seems to surprise Leah, whose attention you now have. Her curious gaze scrutinizes you attentively.

"Is it something sexual?" she grins.

"No, you horny teenager boy" you laugh

"What is it then?"

You feel the curiosity in her voice too and you briefly wonder what she can think of before answering her. But when you open your mouth to offer her what you have in mind, you abruptly reverse.

"No nothing, forget it. It’s a bad idea"

You feel a little blushed and you hope that Leah will accept what you just said. But you also know perfectly well that it won’t.

"But tell me!" exclaims the blonde rising suddenly, almost throwing you on the ground.

"Leah!" you laugh-shout when you catch up to her size to stay on the couch.

"What is it? Tell me!"

To support her request, Leah sits on your stomach, thus preventing you from moving if ever the idea came to you to run away in the kitchen. And you have to admit that it came to mind for a few seconds.

"No" you answer smiling and shaking your head.

"You leave me no choice."

With an evil smile, Leah starts tickling your ribs, causing your uncontrollable laughter. You try to escape, but between her muscular strength and the loss of yours through laughter, you end up accepting the idea that you have no chance to escape.

"All right, all right! I’ll tell you."

Satisfied, Leah immediately stops her torture session and patiently waits for you to catch your breath to be able to answer her.

"I was wondering if you would accept that I make a portrait of you"

You see curiosity give way to surprise, then reflection on Leah’s face. You don’t do much portrait to be completely honest, you once made a replica of a wedding photo of your parents for their twentieth wedding anniversary and that’s it.

And a Raven portrait, but you’re not sure that matters.

"You want to paint me?" wonders Leah

"Only if you fully agree with that. You have the right to say it’s weird"

"I don’t think it’s weird"

Leah smiles at you and you immediately know that she means what she’s saying to you. She’s still sitting on your belly and you’re gently sliding your fingers down her legs, mechanically reshaping the scar from her surgery last year.

"Like a Titanic painting?"

"I imagined it with a little more clothes to be honest" you laugh softly. "But sincerely, how you feel most comfortable"

"That would be amazing" ended up answering Leah after a few seconds of reflection.

You smile at her and pull her against you, kissing her lips. When the pretty blonde lies on top of you and you turn your attention to the TV screen, you are in truth once again not focused at all on what is happening there. Your mind is already thinking about the canvas you are going to make and what you want to bring out on it.

********

When you can finally play an entire football game, Leah’s portrait is almost complete. What started out being a little intimidating quickly became a special moment between you. You feared at first that the way you represented her would not suit her. However, you have pushed this fear into a corner of your head since you will not allow Leah to see the canvas until it's finished. Despite her self-confidence, Leah seemed almost shy to you at first. It must be said that the look you put on her in those moments is different from the stolen looks you give her when you watch television, or when you admire her sleeping when you wake up before her.

But you have an excuse to admire her as much as you want now and you never get tired of it. The truth is, you’re almost disappointed that this is over. You loved spending hours looking for the perfect color mix for her eye or hair color. And having her with you in your painting studio also makes you happy.

Over time, Leah has become familiar with your lair and seems to enjoy spending time there too. When you tell her that you no longer need her and that she can go do something else, she often comes back to you with other things to do. To make her feel more comfortable than a simple chair, you bought an extra sofa despite Leah’s protests that it’s frankly not necessary.

The following Tuesday, after training, Leah goes to spend time with her family. Well, Amanda asked you to be here too, but you still want Leah to spend time alone with her family. So you go from time to time, but today Leah goes alone directly after training.

"I’m gonna miss you" says Leah, hugging you.

You may be exaggerating your goodbyes, but you don’t care. You enjoy your embrace, Leah’s arms around your waist while yours are around her neck. Just like you enjoy her kisses on your cheek, on your jaw and in your neck.

"I’m going to miss you too" you smile as you take her face in both hands to put a kiss on her lips.

"Oh God" whines Katie joining you at the exit "You will see you again in maximum four hours, don’t you think you’re a little too much?"

"Five if I beat them all" Leah smiled mischievously as she picked you up again, kissing you in the hollow of your neck.

You laugh when you hear Katie sigh desperately, then turn around when you hear the building door open again, probably in search of some moral support.

"Caitlin comes kiss your girlfriend to get her off my back, please" Leah says when she sees the Australian coming with Kyra and Steph.

"I’m not as needy as you are" Katie snorts

You see Caitlin rolling her eyes but approaching Katie who discreetly passes an arm around her waist to train her to her car. When you see Alessia finally arrive, you know that you will not be able to postpone your little separation very longer.

"Write to me when you arrive?" You ask Leah despite the fact that she does it every time.

"Sure" smiled Leah.

After a few kisses exchanged (Alessia must practically tear you from Leah’s arms), you find yourself in the Mercedes of the blonde in the direction of your building.

The ride is full of discussion, laughter and songs. With Less' promise of homemade pizzas, you know you’re going to have a great night. Lia is supposed to join you a little later to spend the evening with you, just like Manu.

"Shit, I left my phone in your car. Sorry, can I have your keys please?" you sigh when you come out of the garage.

If Leah had been with you you wouldn’t have cared, but this time it’s different. You take back the keys of Alessia’s car in the hands with an excuse smile and you go back quickly. After retrieving your phone, you return to the elevators and press the button on your floor by sending a message to Leah informing her that you have arrived home.

You take the time to put your bag in your apartment and grab a bottle of water in your fridge. You are filling the bowl with Raven’s croquettes when you hear the characteristic sound of something crashing into Alessia’s apartment, making you roll your eyes. This is clearly not the first time and probably the last.

"I don’t know if we’ll ever meet someone as clumsy as Auntie Less" you tell Raven.

The latter throws a reproach glance over her meal, without taking care to stop eating.

"I never said it took away her qualities" you answer by raising both hands in the air.

After two or three caresses, you get up to join Alessia in her apartment and probably help her to clean what has fallen. You just hope it’s not the jar of flour or tomato sauce she uses to make her pizzas.

"You alright Less?" you ask when entering your friend’s apartment.

But you freeze suddenly. It’s not Alessia who is in front of you, where she should be. It's not Alessia who is in the middle of the glass bricks of a mozzarella jar that

And it’s not Alessia looking at you with a dark smile, arms crossed over her chest.

It's Helena.

Your brain makes a short circuit for a few seconds, during which you watch her without moving. You don’t know what she’s doing here, how she found you and how she got into Alessia’s apartment. And what scares you even more is knowing exactly where Alessia is. That’s finally the first thing you can say. You know what she’s capable of, and that terrorizes you.

"Where’s Alessia?" you ask her, with your chaotic breathing

"After all these years without seeing me that’s all you have to say to me?" laughs coldly Helena.

You suppress a chill. Her bad and cold laugh reminds you of very bad memories, but you try not to let yourself be dragged there for the moment. You focus on the present and therefore on the health of one of the people who matters most to you right now.

"Where is Alessia?" you repeat, in a slightly louder voice.

"Don’t worry about her, she’s fine"

Her tone and voice are filled with disdain. When she starts to move, moving around the apartment looking around her, you feel like electric currents running through your body. Nothing to do with what Leah gives you, though.

Leah.

Finally, it’s a good thing the blonde is with her family right now. You don’t know what Helena wants from you, but it’s out of the question that your girlfriend crosses paths with your ex’s. The idea that Alessia had to do it makes you nauseous.

"So this is where you live now?"

You don’t answer anything, just watching her like milk on the fire. You know very well that when she seems calm, this is where she's the most dangerous. When she realizes that you will not answer her, Helena turns to you with an amused look.

"It’s true that you were much less talkative at the end of our relationship. I forgot"

"What do you want, Helena?" you ask coldly.

"Watch your tone, pretty girl" tsked Helena looking at you.

Unlike the last time you saw her, you supported her gaze when she stuck it in yours. It seemed to surprise her. But time passed and you grew and evolved. You changed, just like her. Her face is thinner and slender, purple circles give her two eyes steel color an impression of disturbing grandeur. She's still pretty tho, but has definitly nothing attractive to you.

"What do you want?" you say again.

Helena comes to position herself in front of you and even if your mind begs you to run away, you don't move. Not until I know what’s going on and especially what she did to Alessia.

"You? You didn’t come back to see if I lived in the same place for nothing, did you?"

You feel your stomach fall from several floors. You don't understand how she saw you, you were perfectly hidden that morning. She couldn’t see you from her house, let alone from the window where you saw her. Your face must be talking since Helena is laughing.

"Next time you come spying on me, do it wisely. The neighbor saw you hiding behind his car. He almost called the cops."

Helena laughs again and gets closer to you. You’re only a few inches apart now.

"Did you miss me?" she asks you with a mischievous smile.

"Not for a fucking second" you answer coldly.

Her smile fades as quickly as you slapped her and you see her look change. Seeing her so surprised is so surprising to you that you let your guard down. It doesn’t take more than that for Helena to jump at the chance, grabbing Alessia’s rolling pin to crush her with all her might on your skull, knocking you out instantly.

********

Your skull hurts when you try to open your eyes. You realize you’re lying on a cold floor and it’s dark. Your eyes need a few seconds to get used to the ambient darkness. Your hands are immobilized in your back, preventing you from helping you get up in the small room you are in. You quickly realize that it must be a small cellar somewhere. In front of you, Helena looks at you attentively, your phone in her hand.

"Drop it" you mumble as you roll on your back before sitting up.

"She’s pretty stubborn" Helena replies, ignoring you completely.

She turns your phone screen in your direction and you can see Leah’s ID. She’s trying to call you. If your gaze lingers for a few seconds on the photo you chose for her contact, you also manage to see the time it is. And it’s been at least five hours since you left her from the training ground. Lia and Manu are supposed to have arrived at your home as well and you sincerely hope that they were able to help Alessia.

When your screen turns black again, Helena gently rests it on the ground and puts her attention back on you.

"You continue to be a constant problem for me, it’s painful."

You don’t answer at that either. Not out of fear as was previously the case, but because you learned that ignorance is the best contempt. You don’t want to give Helena any more hold on you.

"Looks like you’ve made some friends. How all those people can be interested in someone like you?" laughs Helena, and this time you can’t support her gaze.

That’s kind of the question you constantly ask yourself in the background and probably where most of your insecurities come from. How can people care about you? Why did Ingrid choose to put herself in danger and get you out of that cursed house? Why did Laia and Leila automatically take you under their wing in Manchester? Why does Alessia also consider you a sister? Why do Manu, Lia, Katie, Kyra, Caitlin consider you a friend today?

By what miracle does Leah seem to be in love with you, too?

"You’re nothing and mean nothing. It was time I came to remind you, I think."

You answer nothing, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the ground at your feet, jay tightens. Your silence and lack of reaction seem to begin to annoy Helena.

"Look at me when I talk to you" spits Helena.

You hate to obey so quickly, but you automatically raise your gaze on her. But it allows you to realize that the mask of coldness that she used to keep is now cracked. She realizes that she no longer has the control as before and that gives you a little courage.

"You are mine. You belong to me."

The words she says are somewhat similar to those Leah can utter in your most intimate moments, but the intent behind it is completely different. Where there is only evil in Helena, behind those of Leah there is only love, devotion and admiration. Even if you don’t understand how and why you’re lucky enough to have a girl like Leah in your life, you realize right now that what Helena is telling you is wrong.

You have people who love and appreciate you. People who believe in you.

"And you know you won’t love anyone else as you love me"

Helena tries a poker game, but it only triggers a scornful laugh from you.

"I don’t even have enough interest in you to hate you anymore" you answer coldly.

The sound of the slap she gives you echoes in the little room. You should have expected it. The skin of your cheek burns after its blow and you know that she put all her strength into it.

"No one will be interested in you for ever as I will and you know it. Look! Even your precious girlfriend stopped trying to call you"

Helena grabs your phone and throws it in your direction. It comes straight to your head before it ricochets off your head and falls to the ground. You see the number of missed calls from Leah, but you find that it’s indeed been long minutes since she tried to contact you. You also received other calls from people you can’t see and the usual whatsapp notifications and different social networks you’re on. The only difference from usual is Lia’s missed calls.

"You didn’t listen to anything I told you. You keep strutting around on the football fields and chasing your stupid ball. You are ridiculous."

A new slap sounds in the room and you close your eyes under the impact. You pretty sure you will have bruises. You’re trying to get back on your feet, hoping that your muscles that are more developed than before will allow you to do better than all these years ago. Where you spent hours at the gym, Helena seems to have spent them lying on her bed using illegal substances.

But your attempt is quickly spotted by Helena, who doesn't hesitate to return you to the ground with a well placed kick. You crash violently against the ground, the pain leaving you groggy for a few seconds.

A loud sound makes you suddenly open your eyes and you fear for your life for a few seconds, but you finally understand that it's actually the door of the cellar that we tried to force. A split second later, it opens on the fly, letting in several armed people. Your first reaction, no doubt stupid, is to believe that they are Helena’s accomplices. But when they throw themselves at her, you realize that if they’re there, it’s to help you.

THey help you get up and free you from the bonds that held your hands before getting you out of the cellar. Honestly, you don’t understand what’s going on. When you get out of the building, you realize you’re not far from your building.

The night seems to have fallen for a long time and the headlights of the police cars illuminate the street at regular intervals. They take you to an ambulance and you let it happen, like a robot. However, you quickly come back to reality by hearing a voice you know well pronounce your name.

Leah.

You barely have time to turn around as you find yourself caught in her arms, her hair obstructing your field of vision and her perfume enveloping all your senses. When you close your eyes, you feel tears coming out of your eyes and soon your whole body is shaken with tears.

Whispering comforting words in your ear, Leah leads you to the ambulance without releasing you for a single second. And that’s exactly what you need, the way you hold onto her shirt could attest to that.

"Alessia" you manage to pronounce after a few minutes.

You’re sitting in the back of the ambulance, Leah at your side while the paramedics seem determined to examine you from head to toe despite your confirmation that you’re okay.

"She’s fine" Leah says "She’s shocked, but she’s fine. Lia and Manu finds her when they come to her apartment, she was in her bedroom. She's not hurt."

You nod, feeling your throat knotted again. Knowing what she went through this because of you gnaws at you from within.

"It’s my fault Lee. She came back because I was seen in her neighborhood in Oslo. You were right. I should never have gone."

"It’s not your fault" Leah replies, wiping one of your tears rolling down your cheeks

But you cannot tolerate that answer. You gently shake your head and shift a little to get away from her. You don’t deserve someone to comfort you after all the evil you brought tonight. Especially not someone like Leah. Someone who deserves better. It’s time you stopped being selfish.

"Y/N..."

Leah try to take you back against her, but you are interrupted by one of the nurses who comes back to you with different papers in his hands. Apparently you are fine, but they still want to keep you in the hospital under observation for the night. You will probably be visited by police officers to discuss what has just happened.

You nod, despite the fact that you are getting tired of hospitals.

"Are you coming with us?" the nurse asks Leah

"Yes" she answers automatically

"No" you answer at the same time

The look Leah gives you is so shocked that you can’t help but feel guilty. Like at the beginning of your relationship, you still have no desire to hurt or harm her.

"Alessia’s gonna need you" you’re vaguely mumbling as an explanation

"She has Lia and Manu with her and we called her parents"

Realizing the number of people involved in this story, you curl up and squeeze your palms against your eyes. When you feel Leah’s hand on your shoulder, you have once again the reflex to try to detach yourself from it. But Leah doesn't let you.

"Everybody’s gonna hate me" you mumble, before you start thinking out loud. "I’m gonna have to move from here, change places and stop football. The best thing is that I go back to Norway and I…"

"Y/N, shut up for mercy"

You oblige and freeze instantly when you hear Leah’s voice. With the help of her hands, she gently lifts you up and removes your hands in the same way from your eyes.

"I know what you’re doing. There’s no way you’re running away. Nobody’s going to hate you. You’re the victim in the story"

But you shake your head violently at this statement. You feel the ambulance start, the engine purring gently.

"Bullshit. If there’s a victim here, it’s Alessia. And you, because you should never have had to go through this. And Lia and Manu, who certainly freaked out too. And Alessia's family, god can you imagine their fear? It’s my fault that all this happened."

"No. It’s Helena’s fault."

You hate to hear Leah say that name and she knows it perfectly. If the nickname she had chosen was a little to dismiss the situation, he was nonetheless innocent. It was mostly to stop hearing that name that makes you nauseous.

"Everybody’s gonna know. Everybody’s gonna know and hate me" you say in a low voice.

"Nobody’s gonna hate you god Y/N" sighs Leah pushing you to sit next to you on the bed. "The only thing that’s gonna happen is that people who know about you will be worried about you because you’re important to their lives. Because they care about you. Because they love you."

You remain silent, carefully avoiding Leah’s gaze. You cannot imagine that she could be right to be completely honest, something terrible could have happened to Alessia for example. And if Leah had been with you, you wouldn’t even imagine what might have happened. The very idea terrifies you.

"I can’t let her get close to you" you end up answering.

"She can’t do it anymore. After what happened tonight, even if you decide for stupid reasons not to press charges, Alessia will."

Leah’s tone is a little abrupt and you can’t decently blame her for being a little bit angry. Alessia is one of your best friends, but you know that Leah and her are also very close. So you remain silent, letting yourself move as the road moves. You feel Leah’s gaze on you, but yours is stubbornly fixed on your hands.

"Hey"

Leah’s voice sounds again after a few minutes and surprises you in your thoughts. Forgetting your resolve until now, you mechanically turn your gaze on her.

"Believe it or not, you matter to a lot of people here"

You sigh softly and look away again, putting your eyes back on the landscape that passes by the small rear window of the ambulance.

"I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone. Especially not for people I love"

"There won’t be any more problems. She won’t make it this time."

Leah seems so confident and determined that you finally believe it a little. But Helena always seemed so untouchable that you still have a little trouble realizing that it’s possible. Except for Ingrid, no one ever suspected what she was doing to you. Leah knows now and you’ll probably have a lot of questions to ask her about how they found you.

"Hey" whispers Leah again.

You again silently raise your gaze on her and you note with surprise that it has softened a little since earlier.

"I do. I love you, I care for you and you mean the world to me"

You’re back in tears. Leah puts an arm around you and you let yourself go against her this time, unable to resist any longer the comfort that you know she is able to provide you.

"And I’ll tell you until you finally believe it, every day if you have to. Until you get sick of me."

"Never" you mumble, not really knowing if she heard you.

Plot twist: She heard you.

When you arrive at the hospital, you stubbornly refuse additional tests, repeating again and again that you are fine. You don’t even have a concussion as a result of the shock you received, which made you lose consciousness. You have a good bump, though, and some bruises. But you’re doing pretty well.

The most difficult moment is undoubtedly the interrogation of the police to whom you had to tell everything from A to Z. Despite your supplications, Leah was not allowed to stay with you and this obviously made things much more complicated to live or to relive.

The second moment was the call to your parents, informed by the justice of what had happened to you. To them too, you had to tell them some things but you silenced the worst things undoubtedly. They’ll probably resent you for a while for hiding such things from them, but not to the point of not wanting to talk to you. You had to stop your mother from jumping on the first plane to meet you.

Fortunately, the judicial inquiry and everything around it will be kept silent at your request and the general public will not learn what happened to you in the past and in recent days. The official story is that you and Alessia stumbled upon a group of particularly aggressive burglars. That’s quite plausible.

To get you home, Leah had to go home to pick up a car since she followed you here with the ambulance. After making sure you were okay, she finally left the hospital and you took the opportunity to call Ingrid, informed by your parents. You should also ask them not to say anything. For Ingrid, you know that you have no risk of this happening.

You just hung up with her when someone gently knocks on the door of your room and you look up at the door when you allow the person to enter. Your heart tightens a little when seeing that it's Alessia. She looks at you cautiously and on your side you don't dare to sketch the slightest movement, persuaded that she's terribly angry with you. And if it’s not her, it’ll probably be her family.

"Can I come in?" she asks you, almost timidly.

You silently nod for any answer. You watch her gently close the door behind her, looking in her behavior for the slightest sign of a potential dispute or reproach. Your eyes glide over herface, hands and body in search of wounds, but you find nothing.

If Leah saw you, she’d probably call you a fool.

"How are you feeling?"

Her question makes you blink and you feel a little stupid for not having asked it first. So you bite your lip briefly before returning it to her, without having replied.

"What about you?"

"I'm okay. I only have one bump."

You cross her eyes and you can easily detect the attention with which she looks at you.

"I'm -"

"Leah told me you expect me to yell at you or resent you. But it’s not what I think Y/N. It’s not your fault."

You sigh softly and shake your head negatively. You want people to stop telling you that, because you know that’s the case. You never should have gone back to her house that night, she never would have come back.

"Listen" continues Alessia as she sits on your bed "I know what you think but let me tell you what I think. It wasn’t very smart of you to go back to her house in Oslo, I agree with you, but at least now we know where she is and what she’s doing. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. She can never come back for you or seek to harm you in any way. You can feel safe now, because you are."

It’s hard to remain insensitive to such a speech, but you can’t find the words to answer Alessia. The blonde doesn't seem to hold it against you once again, since she addresses you a new smile.

"And for what it’s worth, you’re still my sis. And I love you."

Despite yourself, you can’t hold a little laugh and you reach out to her hoping to receive a hug. Alessia isn't begging to offer you one, almost crushing you in her arms.

"I’m so glad you’re okay" you whisper, briefly tightening your arms around her. "And thank you."

"What for?"

"Being you. To forgive me, to be there again and again."

"Again and again" she repeats before letting you go, smiling. "Now put on your shoes and jacket, Leah is waiting for us downstairs. Let's go to her before she accuse me to molesting you again."

********

There are finally only a few people at Arsenal who are aware of what really happened and it suits you very well. In addition to Leah, Alessia, Lia and Manu, you suffered the suspicious look of Katie who looked at you at length during your story. She didn’t ask any specific questions, but just told you that if you needed any help from the Irish mafia, she had contacts. You know that this is certainly not true (well, you hope) but you appreciate the message behind this statement.

You violently refused to rest for the next games, just like Alessia. You also asked Jonas to treat you as he would normally, according to your abilities of the moment and what you do during training. That puts you in the starting players for the final game for the England Cup, West Ham. And this time, you are both on the pitch against Alina and Jordan, who are also both lined up from the start of the game.

The players of the opposing team are not yet present in the corridor when you arrive and you imagine that it's for this reason that Leah lets herself grab your fingers with hers. This draws your questioning gaze to her and she simply smiles at you. You feel that she is trying not to choke you with her worry about what happened with Helena, but you appreciate her constant presence at your side. Since you are only between you and the others are discussing everything and nothing, you take the opportunity to let yourself go a little more against her.

"Stressed?" You ask Leah when she drops your fingers to put her arm around your waist.

"A little more than usual" confesses the blonde in a low voice.

"You will be exceptional, as always"

Leah pinches your ribs smiling maliciously, your little cry of surprise making turn almost all of your teammates. Some people laugh when they see you, and you chase Leah’s hand away by hitting her. Seeing that she is about to continue your hand game, Lia pretends to intervene between you smiling.

"That’s enough, behave yourself"

That’s when the West Ham players begin to arrive at your side and you let Leah spin you aroung by holding you by the shoulders to face the exit. That doesn’t stop you from taking one last amused look at her before focusing on the game. Well it was until Leah kiss your jaw.

Your face is impassive when you shake hands with Jordan and then with Alina. You feel a lot better in your shoes than the last time it happened and it really makes you happy.

You find yourself in front of the field, attacking, alongside Alessia. Leah is in the back with Katie and with Caitlin, Lia in midfield, Beth and Viv, it has become a bit of your basic structure. It works very well like that and Jonas probably didn't want to take risks and try last minute strategies. Maybe he keeps a card in his sleeve for the second half if something weird happens.

But it doesn’t happen. Alessia manages to score a goal in the twelfth minute and you put another one in the twenty-third. Katie scores the third on a free kick just before half-time and you have to hold back from jumping into the locker room. Jonas urges you to stay focused for the second half, reminding you that if you managed to score three in forty-five minutes, West Ham is quite capable of doing so as well. So it’s just as focused that you go back into the field, ready to fight.

You don’t know what instructions the coach gave to the West Ham players, but there is no doubt that he asked them to press you as high as possible on the court. During corners or free kicks it's suddenly Alina who is supposed to take you, which isn't necessarily to your liking. You suddenly push her hands back when she puts them on you several times, ending up attracting the attention of the referee who comes to ask you to calm down a little.

West Ham actually manages to score a goal soon after, but you score a second a few minutes later. And Kyra, back for Beth at halftime, seals your easy win just before the end of the game.

When you lift the cup, you can’t help but look at the joy on Leah’s face and then on your teammates. Your friends. No matter how much you think about it, you don’t remember being as happy in your life as you are at that moment.

You smile at Leah when she crosses your eyes, mimicking a silent "I love you" with your lips, to which she responds by sending you a kiss.

********

"Leah, where are we going?" you ask, laughing softly, the blonde making you walk with both hands on your eyes.

It almost makes you stumble several times, but Leah watches over you carefully and catches up with you every time.

"We’re almost there" the blonde promises.

And indeed, a few seconds later she releases your eyes, taking the time to put in front of you before resuming the speech.

"Don’t open your eyes yet" Leah said, taking your face in her hands "First of all, I want you to know that there is no obligation to anything. That it won’t change anything between us no matter what you say. And that I love you"

"You’re scaring me, Lee." You mumble, frown.

"You don’t need it" Leah smiles.

She puts a tender kiss on your lips before releasing you and stepping back a few steps.

"You can open your eyes now"

You comply and blink several times to recover to the ambient light. Leah dragged you here after training, you’re at St-Albans not far from the training center, but not far from where her parents live too. You know that Caitlin and Katie, Kyra and Lia lived not far from here too. The building in front of you is typically English. It's a semi-detached house whose building is protected by a barrier and various security. Some work has certainly been done recently because everything seems particularly clear.

"What are we doing here?" you ask while frowning.

Leah is scratching her throat, apparently a little stressed. The way she swings from her toes to her heels tells you how nervous she is.

"Move in with me. We practically live together already and I want to wake up with you every day. I want to fall asleep with you and be able to moan because Raven is clawing on my couch while that damn cat has a brand new cat tree. I want to be able to take care of you and protect you every day. I know it’s a big step, but I love you and I want to make my life with you. Say yes, please?"

"Of course, yes" you answer with a smile.

Truth is, she already had you in the first sentence, but hearing that pretty statement doesn’t hurt. A big smile appears on Leah’s face as she hurries to put her hands around your waist to lift you off the floor and offer you a hug. You can’t help but laugh and put your arms around her neck.

After a few kisses, Leah shows you around the house, pointing out that you have the right to refuse the place if it doesn't suit you. But it seems to be perfect. An underground garage, the ground floor is reserved for the kitchen, the open dining room and the living room which gives access to the large garden behind the house. There is also a bathroom. Upstairs, there is what Leah proposes to transform into your ensuite bedroom, a guest room, another bathroom and a room that she proposes to transform into your studio provided that you leave her a small corner to install her piano and desk.

"What do you think?" Leah anxiously asks as you walk down to the living room.

"I love it" you answer honestly with a big smile on your face.

Leah smiles and seems to relax when she hears your answer. She puts her hands on your hips when you snuggle up against her and put your lips on her cheek and neck.

"I’m surprised you chose a semi-detached house" you admit however between two kisses.

"Oh, the neighbor looks nice, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble getting along" smiled Leah, sliding her finger under your chin to put a kiss on your lips. "Come, I’ll introduce you"

She grabs your hand and brings you out of the house to go into the house attached to yours. Both have been redone recently and you appreciate the light color of the front and the orange cobblestones on the outside, giving a small impression of southern Europe despite being in St-Albans.

Leah knocks at the door and you stand slightly behind her, still clinging to her hand. But your curiosity gives way to surprise when the door opens to an Alessia Russo and her famous smile.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, confused. "Are you dating the neighbor?"

"No" laughs Alessia while Leah next to you laughs too. "I’m the neighbor"

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what that means. You look in turn at Leah, who has meanwhile entered the house to greet Alessia’s brother whom you had not yet noticed, and Alessia who continues to smile.

"Are you moving here?"

"I think. This house is buzzing and apparently the neighbors won’t be too annoying"

You just smile while Luca confirms by mentioning all the positive things he found in the house. You quickly understand that Alessia called on him to get a second look and make sure everything was in order, but you trust Leah completely in that regard. Instead of listening, you jump into Alessia’s arms and finally realize what it means. You would have been sad not to have her next to you to be completely honest, but this is even better than what you imagined.

"You didn’t expect to get rid of me like that?" whispers Alessia, smiling as you hugged.

You roll your eyes and just tighten her against you with your arms around her neck, before Leah joins your embrace, squeezing you both against her.

"You whisper sweet words to my girlfriend besides molesting her now, Russo?"

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics #woso