#(even though years ago he said he’d free him)
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not what we wanted - LN4 x Reader
Summary: You haven’t felt this kind of ache in years. As memories of your relationship with Lando resurface, the lines between love and loss blur, leaving you grasping at the emotions you thought you’d buried. With every lyric you write, you’re pulled deeper into the bittersweet realization of what was—and what will never be.
Based on "the apartment we won't share by NIKI"
Themes/Warnings: angst (ofc), commitment issues??, no comfort, singer!reader, daddy and mommy issues (lando prolly doesn't have daddy issues but let's pretend pls) (Please let me know if I missed anything)
Word count: 1.1k
Author's note: Hello!! im so proud of this one i really hope everyone likes it. Please let me know what you think! Also if you want to suggest new drivers, characters, or new genres Ill try to make one for them, even though i only write once every two months HAHAH please feel free to ask <3 Anyways hope you enjoy!
The candle flickered on the desk as you stared at the half-filled notebook in front of you. The melody played faintly in the background, guiding the flow of your pen. Words scratched their way onto the paper, raw and unfiltered, each line peeling back the layers of a love that once felt indestructible. A love that belonged to you and Lando.
Two years ago, you had walked away from the man who, for a time, had been your entire world. The memories came rushing in as you tried to put them into lyrics, their weight settling in your chest.
The apartment we won't share.
I wonder what sad wife lives there.
Have the windows deciphered her stares?
Do the bricks in the walls know to hide the affairs?
You remembered the day you went apartment viewing with Lando. It was a sunlit afternoon, and the air buzzed with excitement as the two of you dreamed about building a life together.
“This one’s perfect,” Lando had said, his voice echoing in the spacious open floor plan.
You weren’t alone at the viewing. A couple—a woman with tired eyes and her distracted husband—wandered the space, too. The wife’s stares lingered on the window, and the unspoken tension between them was palpable.
When you and Lando got home that evening, he joked, “I swear, if we ever get like that, just put me out of my misery.”
You laughed, nudging his side. “Deal. Though you’re too busy to turn into a grumpy husband anyway.”
The irony cut deeper now. You hadn’t seen it then, but that couple was a reflection of what you and Lando were becoming—two people holding on to a love they couldn’t maintain.
The dog we won’t have is now one I would not choose.
A flash of warmth filled your chest as you thought about the day you met Charles’ dachshund, Leo.
“Now this is a dog,” Lando had said, crouching down to let Leo excitedly sniff his hand. “When we get one, it’s gotta be just like him—small, but full of personality.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You mean stubborn and impossible to train?”
“Exactly,” Lando replied, grinning as Leo flopped onto his back for belly rubs.
The idea of a dog—a small, tangible piece of the future you were trying to build—felt so easy back then. But now, even the thought of it was bittersweet.
The daughter we won’t raise still waits for you.
You wiped at your eyes, forcing yourself to stay present. The memory of late-night talks with Lando replayed like a broken record.
“I want a little girl someday,” he’d confessed once, his voice soft with vulnerability. “She’d be a daddy’s girl. Spoiled rotten.”
You had smiled, nodding along. You wanted to want the same thing, but deep down, you weren’t sure if you ever saw yourself as a mother. You had never told him that, though. Maybe you should have.
The girl I won’t be is the one that’s yours.
I hope you shortly find what you long for.
The breakup came rushing back, a scene you had replayed a thousand times in your head. It was late at night, and the exhaustion of trying to keep the relationship alive had worn you both thin.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you had said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. “I know.”
You wanted to be angry, to yell at him for not fighting harder. But deep down, you both knew the truth—you had drifted too far apart. You cupped his cheek, a sad smile on your lips. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Lando.”
The filthy joke that won’t
Burrow in the corner of your
Smirking lips, I mourn it to this day.
A laugh escaped your lips as you thought about the gala. You could still see the way Lando leaned in, whispering a dirty joke in your ear that was so wildly inappropriate for the setting.
Your cheeks had burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him. Not when he looked at you with that stupid grin, his dimples on full display. You had never loved anyone more in that moment.
The story we won’t tell
Is my greatest fantasy.
The passion I won’t feel again
Isn’t lost on me.
You paused, letting the pen hover over the page. The weight of regret settled heavily on your shoulders. You had loved him deeply, even as the relationship unraveled. And now, the thought of never feeling that kind of love again terrified you.
The son you never wanted
Is the wound your father left.
And the mother I won’t be is
Probably for the best.
Your mind drifted back to one of your many late-night talks. Lando had opened up about his childhood, his compilcated relationship with his father. “I don’t think I’d know how to be a dad to a son,” he had admitted.
You hadn’t realized it then, but that fear had mirrored your own doubts about being a mother. Maybe that was why you had hesitated to dream too big about a family with him.
Your demons I won’t meet
Now someone else’s word to keep.
I’m sure she’s beautiful and sweet.
The song was nearly done when your phone buzzed on the desk. You picked it up, and the screen illuminated with a headline: Lando Norris and Fiancée Announce Engagement.
Your breath hitched, but you couldn’t look away. The woman in the photo was stunning, her smile radiant as she stood beside him. He looked happy—happier than you had seen him in years.
You closed the notebook, staring at the final line you had written:
Not what I wanted, but what we need.
The song was finished, but the story wasn’t just about you and Lando anymore. It was about letting go, about making peace with the love you had lost. You set the notebook aside, exhaling deeply.
Some endings weren’t tragic. They were just necessary.
#lando angst#lando norris angst#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#ln4
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GUARD DOG IS FREE
#the mutts fandom doesn’t exist but I’m here to yell about it anyway#AND DOOZY NAMED HIM SPARKY. LIKE SCHULZ#OH ITS PERFECT#I NEVER THOUGHT ID SEE THE DAY#(even though years ago he said he’d free him)#patrick mcdonnell#mutts comics#and to think I almost missed it because I had just becomenoverwhelmed by the daily emails#SO GLAD my advent devo is thru email this year and I clicked a mutts one on accident#jext
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Single Dad!Simon who vowed to never trust another woman again after his failed past. He was locked up with the key thrown away, permanently off of the market.
At least that’s what he’d told himself for years. Now, he was beginning to have cold feet.
Simon needed a nanny, one that he could trust completely. He didn’t play about his child, and he’d be damned if he got set up with someone of ill intentions.
But, he was desperate.
Price needed him back periodically, even after his retirement, and he agreed. After all, money was tight when he parented on his own with a growing child.
That was when you came in. Soap had been a pal and recommended an old family friend, somebody he knew Simon could trust with his kid. Simon was skeptical, of course, but Soap had never done him wrong. Reluctantly, he agreed.
Simon wanted to have a trial period to see if you were truly built for the task. He wouldn’t let you off easily. His child was his world, and women weren’t exactly in his deck of cards when it came to trust.
You were as sweet as honey upon the first meeting with a smile that could outdo the sun. Your voice was soft as rain, flowing out of you like a summer song. You spoke to him with the upmost respect, and even more so with his child.
Simon knew he could trust Soap in guaranteeing somebody safe. You were the perfect candidate. He just didn’t know it would lead into him feeling emotions he’d buried a long, long time ago.
Attraction. Interest. A crush, dare he say, like he was a stupid high school kid that just saw the prettiest girl in class and fell head over heels.
He had a silly crush on his child’s nanny when he fully intended to keep it short and professional. That was the way he operated. He was like a working machine, and you had undone his mechanics so easily to the point he struggled to function.
Seeing you with his child only caused his attraction to fester deeper. His child became attached to your hip, smiling more than they had ever done, rambling nonsense to him every time he returned home and you left to go to yours.
It was becoming hard to deny it. You opened an old wound of Simon’s, awakening that deep and dreadful loneliness he felt every passing day. Every smile, every laugh, every Mr. Riley even though you were close in age, all of it had him on the edge of his seat.
He wanted more. He was tired of denying himself happiness. The idea of pushing away every woman was still very vivid in his mind, but denying you just seemed criminal the more time passed.
“I never got to thank you for allowing me in to your home, Mr. Riley,” you told him one day, ever so sweet.
“Thought I told you to call me Simon,” he grunted, avoiding your eyes as the two of you stood in the doorway.
“Right. Simon,” you corrected with a radiant smile. “You have quite the kid, I’ll tell you that. I always look forward to coming over. It makes my day seeing the two of you.”
Simon could feel his heart pattering against his ribcage. His hands were sweaty, and he prayed you didn’t notice him swipe them along his jeans.
“Both of us?” he hummed.
“Of course. You’re just as exciting to see, too, Mr. Ri- Simon.”
Simon’s lips quirked up the slightest bit, but his heart was in his ass. For the first time in a long time, a woman was making him shy and nervous, and it didn’t feel as bad as it did before.
“You’re always free to come over for dinner,” he offered.
“That sounds great, I’d love to have dinner with the two of you!” you exclaimed, beaming.
He didn’t understand how you could be so bright yet so oblivious at the same time.
Simon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. “I meant, the two of us.”
You stared at him like he’d grown two heads, and he nearly slammed the door in your face from the sheer anxiety that spiked in him. He couldn’t read your mind or what you were feeling, and Simon wished he had never said anything to begin with.
“That sounds wonderful,” you said instead. Now it was Simon’s turn to stare at you crazy. “I’d love that.”
Simon realized he was staring too long, so he cleared his throat once again, giving you a brief nod and looking away. “Alright. I’ll text you a day and have Soap pick up the little monster for the night.”
When you agreed and left with the smile that made his heart ache, he didn’t waste a second in texting Soap, telling him he’d be on nanny duty for one night that week.
Soap was quick to agree, but not without a little “You’re welcome ;)” text back.
#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost drabble#ghost simon riley#cod ghost#ghost x reader#ghost#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you
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Company (jjk)
Pairing: brothers bsf!jk x fm!reader
Sypnosis: Your longtime crush who happens to be your older brothers best friends walks into you humping your pillow to the thought of him
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex, dry/pillow humping, nudity, reader has an IUD, etc…
Note: hey yawl it’s been a while… if anything sounds off jus so yk it’s not proofread :)
You’ve always carried a long crush for your older brothers bestfriend Jeon Jungkook.
Your ages being separate by 2 years, you’ve always remembered the chicks your older brother Taehyung would sneak into his room after a night out meanwhile your parents slept peacefully in their room.
As of now, this carried onto his current college days. Attending frat parties along with his best friend since childhood, Jungkook.
Your heart ached to be seen as nothing but Taehyungs younger sister to jungkook and others known to him. Especially when after those late night outs you’d come to find a chick wrapped around Jungkook’s meaty arms. You wanted jungkook to see you as a woman who harbored deep feeling for him.
And so, your decided to attend the same college as your brother. It not being that far off your home moving onto campus was not required. Unlike jungkook whose family had moved farther off from town your parents gladly took him in. Knowing him since he was a little boy they allowed him to crash in taehyungs spacious room.
This only made your crush on him worse, you were too shy to even start a conversation with him. Despite your shyness he always acknowledged your presence, never making you feel left out or ignored. Your interactions with him were limited, and every convo was initiated by him with little teases and silly remarks. He’s such a kind guy, no wonder your lingering crush only heightened with him staying in your home.
Classes were over for you and generally Taehyung was always the one to drive you home considering he had a car. A sudden message from him vibrates your phone you carry in your palm.
3:52 pm taetae: not on campus so I asked jk to give you a ride home today
great.
pulling into the campus parking in his car was jungkook, “hey, tae asked me to drive you back home for today he’s out so he’ll be back tomorrow” he said with his silver pierced charming grin
“hi, thanks for driving me back home” you said with your typical shy demeanor as you made way into the passenger seat of his car
“don’t worry about it, sweets”
oh.
That was the nickname he’d given you many many years ago cause of the constant snacking of sweets and candys. He payed notice to that then coining you the nickname “sweets”
You turned your head faced to the direction of the window to hide the rosy cheeks he gave you from pet name
Too shy to keep the conversation going jungkook spoke, bringing up school and asking about your classes. All came to an end once he pulled into the driveway of your home.
“Your brother won’t be back today, he’s spending the night with jennie today”, jungkook said while opening the refrigerator to get a class of water.
dammit.
You thought to yourself. You’re parents are out at work and don’t arrive til 9pm. So that means it’s just you and Jungkook for the meanwhile. What a mess, you figured you were gonna stay locked in your room for the remaining time until your parents got home.
“Well, I’m just gonna work on my assignments due tomarrow…”
“Alright, I’m off to the gym. In case anything happens feel free to call me, okay?”, the tattooed man said.
The muscular man did go to the gym everyday though. Usually around 4:30pm for about at least 2 hours.
“Okay” last thing said between you two before grabbing his gym bag and making his way out the door.
“Hey Jungkook?”
“Yea?”
“Thanks for looking out for me”, this time you held onto the eye contact made between both irises. Making sure to illuminate your gratitude to him.
He offered you a grin from his silver pierced lips, “no problem, sweets”
You could not get Jungkook out of your head. It was impossible to focus on your assignments without thinking about the tall raven hair tattooed man with the bunny smile. He lingered your mind, causing stress.
Closing your MacBook and tossing it aside you decided to relieve this aching stress that invaded your mind but also the lingering ache between your legs.
You rid yourself of your clothing only remaining in your cropped tank and underwear.
Positioning your pillow between your legs in which your body hovered over you made onto your pillow searing yourself upon it.
Arching your back and you rocked your hips back and forth onto the wrinkled textured fabric of the pillow. The lacy panties you were currently wearing added to the ecstasy. Following the flow of movement adding friction and pressure to your needy clit.
“mhhpp, fuck” gasping out while you retracted your head back then forward.
The layered front strands of your mid length hair covered your face due the continuous movement of your head. Tucking them back behind your ear once again.
“j-jungkook! s’good, feels so good…” you desperate whined as you chased your high.
Gripping onto the pillow leaving your knuckles white due to the pressure of squeezing while leaning forward.
Your pillowy nipples lacked attention, your fingers latched onto the buds from the outside of your tank. You weren’t wearing a bra so the thin shirt was the only separation between your calloused fingers and hardened buds.
Getting rid of your shirt and panties you were bare entirely. Your only audience being the plushies corner of your bed watching the show you gave them.
Is what you thought, too oblivious and deep into your own world to have heard the sound of the car pulling up into the drive way, to have heard the sound of the front door opening and footsteps. To have noticed the presence of the same man whose name you constantly let slip past your moaning lips watching you reach your high on your pillow at the thought of him.
He watched your ass jiggle at the rapid movement of your hips, along with the movement of your breasts The way your face contorted into an expression of pleasure with your teeth biting onto the plump of your lips. The sight in front of him had his length twitching in the gray sweats he changed into before leaving the gym.
“g’na cum, please let me cum…fuck jungkook need it so bad!” you desperately expressed.
At the final rock of your hips you released, a shivering orgasm causing you to rip a pitched whine.
The movement of your hips lessened as you rode out your orgasm. Tired and worn out after that workout your head began to wander off.
Until.
“Quite the performance you showed off there” your heart dropped
There he was. The same man that you’d been rubbing your pussy against your pillow at the thought of watched you get off.
“Jungkook!” you wanted the ground to swallow you whole at this very moment.
Quickly grabbing into your discarded clothing at an attempt to cover your bare body. Unaware of what to say in explanation to the presence in front of you.
“I-I…”
No words could come out or your mouth as you watched Jungkook walk towards you with a darkened expression.
Removing the piece of clothing from your grip at attempt of concealing yourself. His eyes remained at your bare figure. Tempted at the sight of your hardened nipples, goosebumps covered your skin.
“Fucking hell, look at you. Getting off to the thought of me? You’re so damn cute…”
The eye contact made you aware of the glint in his eyes, a message he was trying to convey.
“Jungkook?” you quietly questioned
“You gonna let me do what I want with you, hm? Is that what you want?”
Your eyes remaining in contact with his glistening ones, you nod your head in response.
That was all it took from jungkook to commect your lips with his. Hungrily capturing your mouth, sloppily stuffing his tongue down your throat causing him to groan and you to whimper at his roughness.
“Open your legs, baby. Show me how wet your pussy is”, you obeyed and showed him your glistening folds lathered in your cum.
Taking his tattooed hand and gathering the substance on his fingers he brought them to his mouth. The taste of your discharge coated his tongue as he cleaned it from his fingers.
“Fuck, you’re as sweet as your nickname. You sure live up to it”, he said as he continue to lick clean his slick coated fingers.
Your fingers inched towards the hem of his sweats, encircling the strands of the waistline.
“What is it you want, sweets?
“You.”
“Take me out, baby” fuck, that practically confirmed to you he was hiding a big package under there.
Lowering his sweats his hardened cock sprung free from the confided layer of fabric.
Taking his length in your palm toward your warm mouth to lubricate it with your saliva. Jerking him off in a up and down motion earning you grunts and groans from him.
“Just like that, fuck…keep doing that n I’ll cum” he gritted out.
Pushing you onto the soft surface of the bed you watched as he removed his clothing. You admired his muscular physique, the gym really did pay off.
“Are you really sure about this?”
“Yes, I’m sure” confirming.
“Condom?”
“It’s okay I’m on an IUD, I’ll take an after pill tomorrow”, reassuring him
He hovered over your body, hiding in the crevice of your neck to leave a few pecks while aligning his length to your heat.
Your chest heaved deeply as you exhaled, the slight burn of his size rubbing toward your tight walls ignited pleasure.
“mhpm! j-jungkook..” wrapped arms on his back as he thrusted in you, increasing the pace as you let out more moans and whimpers.
“I know, baby…ya’ feel so good, so warm n’ tight”, he cooed.
At sudden movement his arms then wrapped around your thighs hoisting you up while the relentless abuse to your cunt never stopped.
“Ahh! f-fuck! Jungkook!”, Now in the standing missionary position, he was in deeper than you’ve ever experienced. The motion of his hips thrusting at an unforgivable pace, all that was heard was the sound of his balls smacking against your sopping pussy filling the entire room.
“shit, m’ gonna cum”
“m-me too..” your climax right on the edge.
With that both of you reached your highs, his thrusts began slowing down to ride out the climax. Both the mixture of your cum riding from his abdomen down his leg.
Laying you down on the soft surface of your bed with his cock still soft in you. Enjoying each other’s company as you laid in his embrace.
“Jungkook, are you gonna tell?” you innocently say with genuine concern written on your face.
“Now why would I do that? I’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a long while now. Why? Do you not want this?”
“No, I do! But when you say you’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a while now, what outcome do you expect to come from this? Taehyung will find out sooner or later and it’ll get messy.” your questioned further anticipated his response.
He let out a sigh, “you see sweets, I’ve envisioned this moment to occur, I’ve gotten off at the thought of you just like you showed off earlier. I want you just as bad….” he admits.
“I don’t see you as just my best friends younger sister, I see you as much more”
“Jungkook?” fuck, he’s worried. What if the feelings are mutual as what he initially believed they were? What if we only meant it to be a quick fuck?
“Hm?” Oh well.
“I see you as much more too”, you don’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came out but this weight you’ve been carrying has been lifted after your confession, you feel more at ease.
Both your gazes locked in with one another. Both leaning into each other as your mouths then mounded into one.
The kiss was deep and passionate, although you both have confessed your mutual feelings for each other, there’s something different about it. Feeling more as acceptance and comfort.
“The things you do to me y/n, you don’t get it”.
“You’re mine, all mine”
Pt 2?
#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x reader#bts imagine#jungkook fanfic#bts imagines#bts jungkook#jungkook#slut4jeon
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TW: brief homophobic language
Steve plays the piano.
When he was a kid, Steve’s mom made him take piano lessons. He honestly hated it, hated how strict his instructor was, hated that he had to spend hours practicing when he could have been playing with his new friend Tommy. The thing was, Steve was good at it. He had an ear for music and could pick up songs after just hearing them a couple of times, even if they weren’t piano songs. There were also brief moments that his mom would actually pay attention to him, would sit at the piano bench with him and play her favorite songs.
Around middle school his dad told him that only pansies played piano, cutting an end to his lessons and instead enlisting him in every sport he could. Steve liked sports. He was good at that too, and at first his dad paid attention to him too which was amazing, but it only lasted one season. That was fine. Steve loved sports.
Then Steve met Robin, and they laughed at how horrible Tammy sounded singing, because even all this time he still had an ear for music. Then he met Eddie, and even though it wasn’t really his type of music, he could tell how talented Eddie was whenever he heard the older boy play after the world tried to end but they stopped it.
Steve and Eddie grew closer, and sometimes Steve even attended Corroded Coffin practice if he was free, much to Gareth’s original annoyance, and the music kind of grew on him. Sometimes he’d find himself singing the songs to himself in the shower or doing chores, or tapping out chords on the steering wheel when he drove Robin or the kids anywhere.
Steve was at one of these band’s practices when he noticed a keyboard set off to the side. He vaguely recalled Eddie ranting one day about the band arguing if they were going to add a keyboardist to their group or not, but the idea had been scrapped several months ago when they couldn’t agree on the sound.
During an intermission in the practice, while the band was all inside the house getting fresh drinks (Eddie was getting his for him), Steve hesitated before moving to the keyboard. He’d never played a keyboard before, and it had been years since he touched a piano after his father got rid of theirs when he started sports. He didn’t think he’d even remember how.
Despite this, his fingers moved with assurance over the keys, not playing one of the songs he’d learned in his youth but the song Eddie and his band had been playing just before break. His natural affinity for music had him able to translate the chords into piano keys easily, and he sort of lost himself in the music he plucked out for the first time in his life.
It wasn’t until the ending notes were lingering in the air and the sound of applause began behind them that he realized the band had returned, Eddie’s eyes gleaming above a wide smile while Gareth rolled his eyes.
“Fine. Your boyfriend can join the band,” the curly haired youth said, sounding aggrieved, but there was a curl to his lips that said that he was impressed.
Which was how Steve, former King of Hawkins High, found himself as the fifth member of the metal band Corroded Coffin as its keyboardist.
It also took until a week later, after his first official practice as part of the band, for him to realize that neither he nor Eddie protested Gareth’s claim of them being boyfriends.
#Steve brought in more fans to the band much to Gareth’s annoyance#the added attention helped their rise to fame however#with Steve at the keyboard being the missing part they needed to really make it big#Gareth and Steve quickly went from frenemies to legitimate friends#not that they would ever admit to that#Eddie and Steve officially started dating soon after#the band frequently yells at them to stop flirting when they’re supposed to be practicing#Steve just flips them off and kisses his boyfriend even harder#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#steddie#corroded coffin#headcanon#wheneverfeasible#ladyxdarcy#plot thots
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What We Never Said
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Max Verstappen, your best friend, has always been a constant in your life. But when jealousy surfaces over a recent date, it stirs emotions he hadn’t quite confronted. Is there more between you two than just friendship?
1.9k words / Masterlist
Max had always been good at keeping his cool. On the track where everything is measured in tenths of a second and a moment’s hesitation can cost everything, keeping a level head was what set him apart from the others. But lately away from the track something had been gnawing at him, disrupting his usually unshakeable focus.
It wasn’t new this feeling it had been there for a long time, simmering quietly beneath the surface. Max knew that. He was painfully aware of it in every shared glance, every late-night conversation, and in the way your laugh could instantly pull him out of his darkest moods. For years you’d both kept things easy, uncomplicated, two best friends never crossing the invisible line that tethered you close but never too close.
At least that’s how it was supposed to be.
It wasn’t until a few nights ago when he overheard a casual comment at a party that Max realised how fragile that balance really was.
“I didn’t know you’d gone on a date,” your friend had said her voice light and teasing.
Max wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally he had been halfway through a conversation with another driver when the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely registered what was being said to him after that. His attention had been locked on you, watching the subtle shift in your posture as you casually replied.
“Yeah,” you said, like it was nothing. “We went for dinner and drinks, it was really nice...he was nice.”
Max’s hand had tightened around his drink. Nice. The word grated against Max’s nerves. The conversation around him faded into white noise as his mind fixated on what you hadn’t said, on what you’d kept from him. A date? You’d gone on a date? Since when did you go on dates without mentioning it to him? It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, like something fundamental had changed, though he couldn’t quite explain why.
For the rest of the evening Max stayed quiet his usual easy-going demeanour replaced by something darker, something more brooding. You didn’t seem to notice or if you did, you didn’t bring it up. But every time he looked at you all he could think about was someone else sitting across from you, someone else making you laugh, someone else getting to know the parts of you that Max had always believed were his to cherish.
-------------------
He thought about it more than he should have over the following days, a slow burn of frustration and confusion twisting in his chest. It wasn’t that he had a claim over you but there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, and hearing about you with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, made it feel like everything was slipping through his fingers.
Max found himself at your door days later, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say only that the unresolved tension between you needed addressing.
The door opened and there you were, smiling like always, the kind that usually made his stomach flip, but today it only made him more tense. “Hey you,” you greeted stepping aside to let him in.
He walked in without hesitation, but his usual ease was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of you with someone else. Max had tried to push it down, to convince himself that it was none of his business. You were your own person, free to do whatever – or whomever – you wanted. But the truth was, it did bother him. A lot more than he cared to admit.
He dropped onto your couch more tense than he’d been in weeks. You sat down next to him, your brow furrowing as you picked up on his mood. Max was many things, but unreadable was not one of them. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and right now you could sense the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. His jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off of him in waves.
“What’s up with you?” you asked, tone light but probing. “You seem… off.”
He wanted to shrug it off, say it was nothing, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pretend anymore, not with you.
Instead he turned toward you, his blue eyes sharp “Why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?”
Your expression shifted subtly, surprise, then confusion trying to place his tone, “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
A beat of silence passed, Max could hear the faint hum of the city outside your apartment window, but inside, the air felt thick weighted with something unsaid.
“I overheard you the other night,” he continued, his voice rougher than he intended.
You blinked, processing his words. “You overheard?”
Max nodded, watching you closely waiting for some kind of explanation that would ease the knot in his chest. But you just sat there, not defensive, not guilty, just calm.
You hadn’t kept it from him on purpose. In fact you didn’t even think it was that big of a deal. The date had been fine, nice, but nothing extraordinary, certainly not enough to warrant telling Max about it right away.
“It wasn’t anything serious,” you said after a long pause. “Just dinner. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
Max exhaled sharply running a hand through his hair. “And if it had been serious?”
Now you were even more confused. Your eyes met his then, a flicker of something passed between you. “Why does it matter?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did it matter? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, except confused. Maybe a little scared. The kind of fear that sinks deep, the kind that makes you realise you’ve been taking something for granted.
“Because it does,” he muttered quietly, his voice tight.
You leaned back slightly, studying him. There was something different about the way you looked at him now, more attuned to whatever was hanging between you. You’d always known that Max was protective of you, but this? This was something else entirely.
“You’ve never cared before,” you said, your voice quieter now, like you were piecing together a puzzle neither of you had fully acknowledged.
Max hesitated then sighed. “Maybe I should’ve.”
The words were out before he could stop them, and they hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever admitted to you before.
You didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, uncomfortable in a way that it never had been between the two of you. And then, after what felt like an eternity you leaned forward resting your elbows on your knees hands clasped in front of you.
“Is that what this is all about? Me going on a date and not telling you?” You paused, your eyes searching his face,“Or is it something else?”
He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because of course it was something else. It had always been something else. He just hadn’t let himself admit it not until now, not until the idea of you with someone else had thrown everything into sharp, painful focus, and maybe that wasn't fair but he didn't know how he could go back now.
Max stood, pacing the length of your living room his mind racing. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, though it was a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t sure how to say it, cross the line you’d both been skirting around, to take years of friendship and lay it bare without ruining everything.
“Max,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look at me.” You needed to hear him say it. You needed to know if what you felt for him was mutual or if you were reading too much into this.
He stopped pacing but didn’t turn around right away. His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in a long time, Max felt completely out of control. It wasn’t like driving where every move was calculated, where he could read the car, the track, the competition with precision. This was messier, rawer, and there was no strategy for it.
Finally, he turned to face you his blue eyes meeting yours. There was no running from it anymore, no pretending that what he felt for you was anything less than what it really was.
“I didn’t like it,” he said quietly, the admission catching in his throat. “Hearing you talk about him… I hated it.”
You didn’t look away but your eyes softened, your expression still guarded.
“Why?” you asked, though your tone told him you already knew the answer.
Max let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve always wanted it to be me.”
The confession hung in the air, and for the first time with you Max felt truly exposed, vulnerable. The invisible line between you two, the one he’d always danced around, was gone.
All the emotions you’d been burying for so long, all the feelings you’d tried to convince yourself weren’t there, came rushing to the surface.
You walked toward him slowly, and for a moment, Max wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but when you reached him you didn’t say anything. Instead you just looked at him, really looked at him, like you were seeing him in a way you hadn’t before.
“I’ve always wanted it to be you, too,” you whispered, the words so soft he almost missed them.
“I didn’t want to ruin things between us,” Max continued, “I didn’t want to lose you. But hearing about you with someone else… it made me realise that maybe I’ve already lost you and I didn’t even know it.”
You took a step closer to him your heart pounding in your chest. “You haven’t lost me."
His heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. Your skin was warm beneath his palm and for the first time in days the tension in his chest eased slightly.
You didn’t pull away, you stepped closer eyes never leaving his. It was as if all the years of unspoken tension between you had finally come to a head, and neither of you could ignore it anymore.
He leaned in, slowly, cautiously, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. And when his lips finally met yours it was like everything he hadn’t been able to say, everything he’d been holding back for years, poured into that kiss.
It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, deliberate, a moment stretched out between two people who had spent too long pretending they didn’t want this. Max’s arms wrapped around you as the kiss deepened, but still, there was a softness to it a tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship, of trust.
When the kiss broke, you both stood there inches apart breathing in the moment. Max's hand lingered on your cheek his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
“You know,” you whispered, smiling against his lips teasing, “this is probably something you should’ve told me ages ago.”
Max let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Yeah, well” he said, his voice low and teasing back, “I guess this means I can stop pretending I’m okay with you dating other people now," you laughed softly as he smirked "but I wasn’t too worried, everything’s about timing isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you murmured, your lips brushing his. “I guess you got it right.”
"Finally," he whispered with a grin, before pulling you into another kiss.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen masterlist#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen oneshot#max verstappen drabble#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen blurb
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𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕖𝕕
Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You’re pretty good at running away.” Words: ~2.8k Genre: Eventual fluff A/N: In a writing slump and kinda dislike how this one turns out but oh wells
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
“Marry me,” you had said.
Those two words—whether they were your saving grace or the beginning of your damnation, you weren’t sure.
Then, he surprised you when he said, “Okay.”
Nothing more and nothing less.
It almost felt like he had anticipated your arrival, barreling your way into the base upon learning of your father’s, one of Onychinus’s highest-ranking partners’, demise.
Seeing your stupefied expression, he nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s a practical solution to an unfortunate situation.”
That wasn’t your first time meeting Sylus, and you’d be far too naïve to think he would ever do anything for free. Every favour, every exchange, came with an unspoken contract—an inevitable quid pro quo.
But it was a choice between marrying him or being eaten alive in the N109 Zone.
“Although, I must ask—have you truly thought this through?” Sylus inquired, his gaze sharp.
There was a reason why you chose to move to Goldwood City once you had the chance; far away from the lawless land to start anew, free from the shadow of your father’s association.
As if the death of your mother caused by his recklessness years ago wasn’t enough, the old man had to pull you back into the very world you had succeeded to leave behind.
Staying away was a luxury you no longer had with your old man’s enemies haunting you.
Head held high, you met his gaze directly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of my choice.”
Oh, little did you know, that your return to the N109 Zone as Onychinus’s leader’s wife, would mean putting your heart on the line as well.
Perhaps it all started that one evening, when a nightmare jolted you awake, haunting you with the vision of your mother’s lifeless eyes and being captured by the people your father had entangled himself with.
Without even realising it, you were already standing at Sylus’s doorway.
“Why?” he questioned when you asked if you could stay the night in his. “Something wrong with your room?”
Indeed, he offered you your own space even though you were legally husband and wife now. It had been a relief at first, a perfect arrangement, until the nightmares escalated.
“It just feels too quiet tonight,” you lied, unready to fully bare your soul.
Sylus finally looked up from the papers he’d been reading, one eyebrow arched. “Not used to being alone at night back in Goldwood?”
Your face flushed at the implication. Just as you opened your mouth to deny it, something in his expression shifted.
It was so fleeting and subtle that you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.
He raised a hand, halting your reply. “Actually, never mind about it.”
When he simply returned to his papers, offering no clear sign of whether you were welcome, you frowned.
You were about to take your bruised pride back to your room when you heard him let out a resigned sigh. “Are you coming or no? You’re letting the draft in,” he said, pulling back the duvet on the vacant side, inviting you to settle in.
His acceptance was surprising, but you quickly climbed into bed before he could change his mind, feeling a surge of relief and security with him close by.
If you were too close for comfort, he didn’t mention it.
Sylus was so warm that you shuddered from the sudden temperature change. The base, with its perpetual chill, was a stark contrast to his body heat.
“What are you reading?”
“Mundane proposals,” he muttered, tone laced with boredom as his eyes skimmed the pages in front of him.
With your interest piqued, you scooted even closer, your hair slightly brushing his arm. “Anything I should know about?”
When you told him that you wouldn’t settle for being a trophy wife, he offered you an administrative position in Onychinus, which you happily accepted.
“I feel that these are better off in the trash.”
A small chuckle escaped you, drawing Sylus’s attention. He cast a glance downward, amused by your reaction.
That somewhat prompted him to give a brief outline of the proposal, perhaps to get him through it too. And he was right, it was so dull that you felt your eyes fluttering closed, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice.
“—heard that the twins take good care of you.”
“Hm?” You peeked one of your eyes open, though it was futile as it soon closed again.
Whenever he was away, Luke or Kieran—often both—were always by your side, becoming more than just your guards; they were your mentors, teaching you the complexities of Onychinus’s operations, and they were slowly becoming your…
Friends. A foreign term to you.
Friendship had never been something you could afford, not with the constant paranoia of trusting the wrong person, no thanks to your father.
In your drowsy state, you remembered mumbling, “I feel at ease when I’m with them.”
“At ease, huh? That’s a rare concept around here.” Sylus’s voice cut through the fog of your drowsiness.
Your mind, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, seemed to speak for itself. “You also make me feel more comfortable than I expected.”
Looking back, you laughed mirthlessly at your own stupidness. Where was that defense mechanism you had sworn was ingrained within you?
You knew better than to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone slip past your guard easily in such a short span of time.
Especially someone like Sylus—a man cloaked in power, whose intentions were always enigmatic.
“You’re pretty good at running away.” The voice, carried by the wind, reached your ears. “Pretty good, but not the best.”
“Here to claim your bargaining tool back?”
His footsteps stopped a few paces away from you. Refusing to meet his gaze, you remained looking ahead. The once vibrant colours of sunset faded into darkness, as if the sky itself mirrored the ache seeping deep inside your soul.
Sylus let out a deep sigh. “How much did you know?”
A few days ago, while you were sorting through Onychinus’s papers, you stumbled upon an old, yellowed document hidden deep on a neglected shelf, seemingly placed there to remain undiscovered.
As you read through the faded ink—an exchange made between your father and Sylus a long time ago, marked with their signs and bloodied fingerprints—it felt as though you heard your old man laughing from his grave, determined to terrorise you even in death.
That bastard had sold you to Sylus, bartering your life for a sliver of power within the N109 Zone.
“Did you have fun watching me pathetically beg you to marry me? Knowing all along that you’ve owned me anyway?”
The memory of his calmness that day burned in the back of your mind. Your intuition was right after all, he had anticipated you coming to him.
And if you were honest with yourself, it wasn't even your father you were so angry with—you’d always known what a monster he was.
No, what burned like a hot iron in your chest was the sense of betrayal, the sting of disappointment aimed squarely at Sylus.
How could you have been so blind, so gullible to believe that this man could be anything more than another player in your father’s ruthless game?
“I asked you that day if it was what you truly wanted,” he calmly said, “I never forced you to marry me.”
You bristled. He was right, of course.
“But you would make sure that one way or another, you would claim me as your possession, wouldn't you? Even from the moment we first met,” you spat.
It was a few years ago when you were first introduced to Sylus. Your mother had begged you to accompany her to a function, and how could you refuse when the guilt of leaving her in the N109 Zone with your father still weighed heavily on you?
For whatever reason you couldn’t understand, she had refused to move in with you.
The function was a blur of faces and conversations that made your head spin, the air thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the tang of power.
You felt out of place, an outsider in a world that had once been your cage.
“Darling, I want you to meet someone.” Your mother’s tone was a strange mixture of joy and nervousness. She gently took your arm and guided you through the crowd until you stood before a tall figure, his presence commanding.
“This is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus,” she introduced. “He’s agreed to work with your father on some very important matters.”
You blinked in surprise. Somehow, you expected the leader of the most prominent organisation to be someone closer to your father’s age, but he was only a couple of years older than you.
Sylus’s features were sharp and striking, though it was his eyes that held you captive. They were intense, piercing, as if he could see right through you.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Sylus greeted. He took your hand in his, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.
Your mother’s keen eyes noticed the crimson that spread across your cheeks, her lips pursing to contain a smile.
“Oh, Sylus, no need for such formalities,” she said lightly, elbowing you to greet him back.
You tried to compose yourself, but his unexpected charm and the way he looked at you left you flustered. “I—uh, nice to meet you too," you managed to stammer.
“Your mother speaks highly of you,” his low voice sent tingling sensation on your insides.
The soft rustle of grass as Sylus settled beside you made your skin prickle. Stupidly, you still craved his closeness.
The nightmares had ceased when you began staying in his bedroom altogether, finding security in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. But since fleeing the base, they returned relentlessly, creeping back each time you managed to get a shut eye.
He stretched out his long legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing against you slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights glimmering on the horizon.
“I didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said, voice low and measured, as if he had carefully chosen each word.
“Then enlighten me, Sylus, what was your grand plan? To control me? To tame me into the docile wife you always wanted me to be?”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box, pressing it into your hands. “This will explain better than any of my words.”
Slowly, you opened the latch, revealing a collection of emblems—some new, some tarnished—from various N109 Zone fractions. Resting on top of the seals was a folded envelope, its edges frayed.
Sylus nodded towards it, urging you to read the letter inside. As you unfolded the paper, the familiar handwriting of your mother’s came into view, despite the hurried and uneven scrawl.
What I could not say, his deeds will show. Have faith in him.
“Your mother approached me before the agreement with your father was finalised.” Sylus’s expression was unreadable. “She wanted me to protect you. From your father, and from anyone that might harm you.”
As the dots began to connect inside your spinning head, the realisation dawned. “And that’s why you asked for me in return? Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to you?”
“Keeping you near would make it easier for me to ensure your safety, at least until I could handle all of your father’s enemies.” He shot you a sideways glance. “Do you think we’d be here now if I had laid it all out for you from the start?”
You both knew that if he had, you would have likely flipped him off and done everything in your power to escape his presence.
The cold metal emblems bit into your palm as you examined them, each one representing what had once been a looming threat. A deep understanding shifted your perspective entirely; this was what Sylus had been occupied with during the days he left you in the care of Luke and Kieran.
He had been thoroughly hunting down your father’s enemies, your nightmare, to ensure that you could finally be free from them.
It wasn’t his incompetence that had kept him from finding you days after your escape. No, he had been securing the final pieces of your freedom.
“What did you ask from my mother then? There must have been something you got, that’s how you grant wishes.”
Sylus gave a soft huff, as if he was on the verge of a chuckle, and shook his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I do grant wishes without expecting anything back.”
Your eyes flicked to him in surprise as he continued, “Nothing. I asked for nothing in return. Your mother earned my respect, and that was enough.”
Everyone understood that dealing with Sylus was a risk, a gamble that could even cost you your life.
Studying him intently, you searched for any trace of deception, but all you discovered was a grave sincerity. His eyes were unnervingly tender when he watched the shock painting your face.
“I’ve kept my promise to your mother. You're a free woman now, free to do whatever you want.” Sylus broke eye contact then, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he added, “We can also get a divorce.”
A divorce.
The word set something unsettling that clawed at your insides, sinking deep into your core, and catching you completely off guard.
For a moment, your mind replayed the way his intense red eyes met yours with kindness, to his touch that held a tenderness that couldn't be faked, and the subtle ways he had shown his care for nearly half a year now.
You hugged your knees tighter, the cold ground beneath you contrasting sharply with the warmth of your memories. “Is that what you want? For us to go separate ways?”
“What I want,” he began slowly, “never matters. This has always been about you. Your choice.”
A second passed, then ten, before you quietly whispered, “What if I choose to stay with you then?”
It was as if a wall had been erected again.
“You are not thinking with your head right now, but with your heart. You trusted me because you saw me as your only lifeline.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration.
“But what if underneath the leader of Onychinus, underneath the man that everyone fears, is the one I want to stay with, the one I feel at ease with? Not because of my father’s shadows nor his enemies.”
Sylus breath hitched, a sudden tension rippling through his frame as he struggled to keep his composure. “You don’t know me.”
His voice carried a warning, attempting to push you away, but you stood your ground.
In that moment, you understood why he often held himself back, creating distance whenever he found himself growing too close.
He was afraid of caring for you beyond what he thought his promise to your mother allowed, struggling to maintain the balance between his feelings and his commitment, fearing that crossing that line would mean violating his duty.
“Then show me.” You moved closer, invading his personal space. “Show me what’s behind all this.”
With resolve burning in your eyes, you cupped his face and leaned in. Your lips sought his, praying you hadn't misread him all this time.
That you wanted the warmth and tenderness you’d glimpsed in fleeting moments to be real and not just a reflection of your own desires.
For a breathless moment, he remained still. Then, something in him seemed to break, a crack in his armour. Strong, corded arms slid around you, pulling you closer until you both tumbled back onto the grass, entwined.
His hand brushed the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as his lips pressed into yours with a ravenous need.
It was a kind of kiss that laid bare the truth, shattered every wall, and left you panting for air.
Your breaths intermingled when you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. There was a vulnerable openness in there, a look concealed beneath the hardened exterior.
“You never read my mother’s letter, did you?” you suddenly asked him.
Confusion flickered in his eyes, his brows knitting together as he shook his head. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the letter from the box and held it up between you.
The dim light from the horizon cast soft shadows on the small message scribbled on the bottom of the paper.
Sylus’s eyes traced the words, his gaze shifting from the letter to your face as the message slowly registered.
Sylus—remember that you, too, deserve love just as much as she does.
It was as though your mother had not only seen the heart within him, but had also foreseen what he had struggled to admit.
With a gentle touch, your thumb brushed against his cheek, lips featherlight as it brushed against his once more. “Take me home, Sy.”
⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x y/n#love and deepspace x you#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#fluff
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" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "
With Bucky. 🥺
This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!
Give Me a Name
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.
The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.
You should’ve known they were close by.
“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.
Until today.
The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.
You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.
Today wouldn’t be that day.
He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?
What made you so special?
“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?
“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.
You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.
And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.
“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”
“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.
That was your job.
Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.
“Don’t make me shoot you.”
You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.
Not when he wanted to keep you.
“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”
“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”
“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.
“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”
You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.
Not when you belonged in different worlds.
“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”
The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.
“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”
Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”
“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”
You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”
The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.
“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”
He’d prove that to you.
I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes x agent!reader#winter and kisa#bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan
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⟡ㅤㅤNERVOUSㅤ┈─ㅤPSH
ㅤㅤㅤ ( ✦ )ㅤㅤyou've got me nervous to speak
precis : you're too nervous to confess to park sunghoon.
박성훈ㅤ୨୧ㅤcrush ! sunghoon x 𝒻em readerㅤ..ㅤfluff, high school auㅤ/ㅤkissing? (once on the cheek)ㅤㅤ( 1290 )
valentine’s day is supposed to be magical. that’s what everyone says, right? fairy tales and romance movies insist it’s the day when grand confessions lead to perfect happily-ever-afters. and maybe that’s true—for everyone except you.
the halls of your high school are buzzing with excitement. heart-shaped balloons float above lockers, streamers line the walls, and couples giggle as they exchange chocolate and flowers. everywhere you look, people are confessing their feelings with trembling hands and hopeful smiles. you, on the other hand, can barely keep your hands steady.
in your backpack is a small gift bag, one you spent far too long preparing. the pink tissue paper peeking out is perfectly fluffed, and inside is a box of chocolates you know he loves, along with a folded note that’s taken up all your free time this week. it’s not just any note—it’s a confession. your confession.
and the “he” in question? park sunghoon.
park sunghoon isn’t just any guy. he’s the guy. the star forward on the school’s hockey team, with sharp features that could rival any celebrity and an easy, quiet charm that makes everyone gravitate toward him. his brown hair, always slightly tousled as if he’s just stepped off the ice, catches the light as he moves through the hallway. he’s the kind of guy who could have anyone, but somehow, he’s still… kind. that’s what got to you the most.
today, he’s wearing the school’s standard black blazer, but somehow it looks better on him than anyone else. the blazer hugs his broad shoulders, and the white dress shirt underneath is just slightly unbuttoned, giving him an effortlessly cool vibe.
you remember the first time you spoke to him. it was a year ago, back when you were assigned as chemistry partners. you’d been terrified at first—how could someone as effortlessly cool as sunghoon ever tolerate working with you? but he surprised you.
“don’t stress,” he had said when you apologized for nearly dropping a beaker. “i’ll catch it if it falls.”
that’s when it started. the little smiles he’d send your way when you accidentally got chalk on your hands. the way he’d explain things patiently, even though he didn’t have to. and, most of all, the way he’d tilt his head slightly when he looked at you, as if you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.
it had taken you weeks to admit it to yourself: you had a crush on park sunghoon. a big one.
now, standing in the middle of a crowded hallway with nervous energy pooling in your stomach, you’re not sure you can go through with it.
your chance comes during lunch when you spot him by the vending machines, casually chatting with one of his friends. his black blazer fits perfectly, and even the way he leans against the wall looks effortless.
you grip the gift bag tighter, your palms sweaty. every step toward him feels heavier than the last. just do it. what’s the worst that could happen?
but then, as you’re halfway there, a girl beats you to it.
she’s hard to miss. her shiny black hair is styled into perfect curls, and her red dress—a bold choice for a school day—clings to her figure like it was made for her. she’s holding out a bouquet of roses with a bright smile, her glossy lips catching the light. she’s confident, composed, and everything you feel you aren’t.
you freeze as she steps up to sunghoon. he accepts the roses politely, his expression unreadable, and your heart sinks.
for a moment, you wonder if this is it. if valentine’s day will end like every other day—with your feelings locked away and your hopes dashed.
by the time the last bell rings, you’re ready to give up. the gift bag sits in your lap as you wait in the art room, staring blankly at the wall. you couldn’t bear to sit in the cafeteria, where you’d have to watch sunghoon receive more confessions. what if he already likes someone else? what if you’ve been delusional this entire time?
your best friend, jay, eventually finds you there, his eyebrows shooting up when he sees your defeated posture.
“you’re seriously just gonna sit here all day?” he asks, plopping down in the seat across from you.
“don’t start, jay.”
he ignores you, leaning forward with a knowing smirk. “you’ve been crushing on sunghoon for what, a year? and you still can’t tell him? you realize this is, like, the perfect day to confess, right?”
“i can’t,” you mutter, staring at your hands. “he’s already gotten so many confessions today. what if he doesn’t want mine? or worse, what if he laughs at me?”
jay groans, dragging a hand down his face. “god, you’re so dramatic. sunghoon isn’t like that. he’s literally the nicest guy ever. and honestly? i think he likes you.”
you snap your head up. “don’t say that. he doesn’t.”
jay shrugs, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “guess we’ll never know. unless…”
before you can react, he snatches the gift bag off your desk and bolts out of the room.
“jay!” you shriek, jumping to your feet.
the scene that unfolds is nothing short of a nightmare. jay runs through the hallway, holding the bag high above his head as you chase after him, your face burning with humiliation.
“give it back!” you hiss, lunging for the bag, but he dodges effortlessly.
students turn to watch, laughing at the commotion, and then—because fate is cruel—you see him.
sunghoon stands near his locker, his dark eyes watching the chaos unfold. his hair catches the afternoon light, and his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh.
you freeze mid-step, your stomach dropping. jay notices him too, and because he’s the worst friend in the world, he stops right in front of sunghoon, holding the bag out dramatically.
“this is for you,” jay says, grinning like a madman.
the silence that follows is deafening.
you want to disappear, to melt into the floor and never come back. but then, slowly, sunghoon takes the bag.
carefully, he opens it, pulling out the box of chocolates first. his eyebrows lift in surprise when he sees the brand—it’s his favorite. of course, it is. you’d spent weeks noticing the little details about him, including the snacks he bought after practice.
he unfolds the note next, his eyes scanning the words you’d spent hours agonizing over. the tension is unbearable. every second feels like an eternity.
and then, he smiles. not the polite smile he gives everyone else, but something real and warm.
he looks at it for a moment before turning his gaze to you. “is this true?” he asks, his voice soft.
you nod helplessly, unable to speak.
“thanks,” he says, his voice almost shy. “i was kinda hoping you’d say something today.”
you blink, your brain struggling to process his words. “you… you were?”
sunghoon chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. i’ve liked you since we were chemistry partners. you were just so… you. funny, kind, a little clumsy. i thought it was cute.”
your heart feels like it might burst. “you like me?”
“yeah,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
the rest of the day feels like a dream. sunghoon walks you to the bus stop, his shoulder brushing against yours as you talk. he tells you more—about how he’d also been too nervous to confess, about how he kept waiting for a sign that you might feel the same.
and when he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek, you’re sure of one thing: valentine’s day is magical.
but only because of him.
#박성훈 ✧ sunghoon#ㅤ𝒜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 ✦ 𝒲𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 🪽 。#enhypen#park sunghoon#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fic#enhypen imagines#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen drabbles#enhypen comfort#enhypen au#enha#enha angst#enha fluff#enhypen smau#sunghoon x reader#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon fluff#enhypen sunghoon x reader#sunghoon soft hours#sunghoon soft thoughts#sunghoon smau#park sunghoon smau#sunghoon x you
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Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader
Summary: Finally starting to spend time with Eddie outside of your bedroom, everybody seems to know about the two of you but Dustin.
Word Count: 10.3k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, eddie’s never-ending pet names, frequent drug use (marijuana), smut, lots of high sex in the whole series idk what to tell you lol, tiny bit of dry humping, eddie’s fishnet fetish?, skinny dipping, fingering, p in v (unprotected but he pulls out), sex in an empty parking lot, squirting, pretty heavy subspace, not angst but crying after sex, eddie’s a little fucknasty sometimes but he worships his lady, cheesy ahh ending
A/N: just two emotionally damaged stoners trying to figure out how to love each other, what more can i say? the length of this one just kept getting away from me lol i’ve loved writing this series and even though the main storyline is over i’d love to keep writing about these two if anybody sends in blurb/headcanon requests or anything like that !! i had plenty of little ideas i had to leave out !!
part one | part two | tmic masterlist
Eddie paused in the mirror, fixing the hair laying on his forehead. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to get it to sit right on his shoulders– it was an old Kill ‘Em All t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of ages ago. He huffed and did one more frantic scan of his bedroom, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he was sure there had to be something he’d missed. Bed made, laundry done, and messes cleared away, his room looked cleaner than he’d seen it in probably two years. Deciding it wasn’t gonna get any cleaner in the next fifteen minutes, he dashed down the short hallway to double-check that the living room was spotless.
He’d draped the nicest blanket they had over the back of the couch and even specifically bought a few candles to light around the room just for the occasion. A few pre-rolled joints sat out on the coffee table alongside the selection of horror movies that Steve definitely didn’t let him sneak out of Family Video for free; he wanted to give you options, so he settled on The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, and The Evil Dead. He would have happily taken you to see a movie, maybe even a drive-in, but you’d said you’d rather it be just the two of you.
Three knocks sounded at the door, making him jump. You were four minutes earlier than he expected. Stepping to the door, he glanced around the room again and blew out a heavy breath before he opened it.
And there you were. Black shorts peeking out under your baggy Dio tee and a bag of snacks in hand from the gas station a couple miles off, you smiled at him. “Hi.”
Eddie couldn’t help his cheesy grin as he replied, “Hey.” Something about you was so enrapturing to him. He could have just stared at you, standing in the afternoon sunlight shining on his doorstep, forever.
“You gonna let me in?”
“Oh! Uh– right.” He moved aside, opening the door wider. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, but uh–”
“Oh, knock it off. I don’t care about that shit.” You looked around, taking in the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls. The warm light outside made the closed mismatched curtains glow. “I think it’s perfect.”
He cleared his throat to overcome the warmth in his chest before he spoke. “I got a few different movies if you wanna pick.”
“Ooh, can we watch The Shining? It’s been a little while since I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites.”
“Sure thing,” He nodded. As he turned on the TV and put the tape in the VHS player, you found a seat on the couch and grabbed a joint off the table to light up. While you seemed totally at ease in his trailer, he was as nervous as the first time he met you. First date jitters, he supposed. You looked so comfortable curled up and smoking in the corner of his couch that, as he settled at the opposite end, he couldn’t help but feel like you belonged there.
Your legs stretched into his lap as you scooted down a bit to pass him the joint. He rubbed his free hand back and forth along your calf absentmindedly. “I don’t know how long you were planning on staying– if you wanna stick around after this movie, I could make a frozen pizza and we could watch another or something.”
“Sounds good to me,” You hummed in return.
Forty-five minutes into the movie, the first joint was gone and Eddie was focused intently on the television screen. You started to get fidgety though, foot nudging against his thigh. “What’d you sit so far away for?”
“I dunno, just thought I’d give you your space I guess? I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”
“C’mere.” Pinching at his shirt, you tugged until he scooted himself to you. Your legs lay completely over his lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t need space, I came here to be with you. It’s cute you’re taking this whole ‘first date’ thing so seriously, though.”
His cheeks flushed a little pink and he fiddled with his rings over your lap. “Sorry, I just– I want this to go well.” He laughed nervously as he continued, “I want to keep seeing you outside your bedroom, y’know? I want you to come to my shows, and I wanna take you to the diner, and I wanna kiss you goodbye after Hellfire sessions.”
You gave him a little smile, turning his face toward you to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I wanna do that stuff too, Eds. You know that you mean something to me, right? I just wanna go slow in the Dustin department. He has to be okay with this.”
“Okay,” Eddie nodded instantly, “However you wanna go about it. I swear, I’ll even ask the little loudmouth for his blessing when you want me to. I mean, I love that kid too.”
For a split second you just took in his features, and those big, earnest eyes were impossible not to believe. The material of his shirt scrunched between your fingers as you drew his lips to yours again. “Thank you for being there for him. And for me. You don’t know how much it means.”
He brushed a strand of hair back from your face with a little smile. “I think I do, sweetheart.”
“Hey, so where’s your sister?” Mike asked, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s like…always home.”
“I don’t know,” Dustin frowned, “I guess she just told Mom she was going out. Maybe I should call Robin and ask if she’s with her.”
“Dude, she’s an adult,” Lucas shook his head slightly. “She probably doesn’t need you to check in on her, I’m sure she’s fine.”
“But what if she isn’t?” As he continued, he paced the length of the basement, hands gesturing wildly with his words. “And what is she doing? ‘Going out’? What does that mean? Why is she trying to hide where she’s going? What if it’s somewhere sketchy?”
“You need to calm down,” Mike insisted. “It really isn’t that serious, she’s probably with Robin and Steve or something.”
“Right, so I should just call Robin and make sure!”
Lucas still rolled his eyes, but Dustin was already dashing up the stairs to the phone. “Great, now he’s gonna lose it if she’s not with Robin.”
“Where else would she be?”
“Literally anywhere, man. She could be at the record store, or with Nancy, or maybe with...”
“You don’t think she could be with Eddie–” But Mike was cut off by footsteps thundering down the stairs.
“She’s not with Robin, Steve, or Nancy which means I’m out of people to call which means I’m officially concerned. Do you think we should go out and start checking places? I mean, what if she smoked like– like– bad weed or something? I don’t know how that stuff works! Why wouldn’t she tell me where she’s going? She should know I’m worried sick!”
“Oh my god, would you relax? Did you talk to your mom?”
“Well, of course she thinks everything’s fine! She trusts us both implicitly when she obviously shouldn’t!”
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath before he looked at him. “I seriously think you’re overreacting. Like Lucas said, she’s an adult; she doesn’t have to tell you everything. She’s allowed to have a life.”
Having returned to his pacing, Dustin halted and looked at him with an offended expression. “Are you trying to say I’m clingy? I’m not clingy!”
“I’m not saying you’re clingy! I’m just saying that you do your own shit, she probably does her own shit too. Maybe she’s taking time to herself or maybe she’s out with a guy or something.”
“There’s no way she’s out with a guy. She would tell me if there was a guy! And where would she even meet a guy? Work? She barely talks to anyone, you guys know that!” Mike and Lucas shared a glance before looking in different directions.
“Look, if she’s not home in an hour we’ll go check a couple places, alright?” Lucas finally sighed.
“An hour? It’s already a quarter after nine!” Then they heard the front door close and Dustin was racing back up the stairs. There you stood, kicking off your shoes beside everyone else’s, a smile on your face that you were trying to bite back. Until your brother and his friends burst out of the basement. “And where on Earth have you been?”
You looked at him questioningly. “Enjoying my day off?”
“By yourself? Until nine-thirty at night?” He placed his hands on his hips, scanning you with a scrutinizing gaze. “What were you doing?”
“What’s with the third degree? I stopped at the bookstore, then I went out in the woods and read for a while. Is that okay, Mom?”
“Don’t condescend to me, you had me worried half to death!”
As you replied, you ruffled his hair. “Aw, well that’s very sweet, Dusty. I’m fine though, you don’t need to wait up for me.”
“See? We told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mike chimed. When he and Lucas gave each other another pointed look, however, he knew they’d both seen the faint hickey peeking out from your shirt collar that Dustin had apparently missed.
“Goodnight, boys. I’ll make you guys some breakfast in the morning, alright?” They all called back their own goodnights as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom and they made their way back into the basement.
Later that night you were dozing off, still dressed and on top of the blankets, when you jolted back to full consciousness at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. Grumbling a little under your breath, you rubbed your eyes.
You were halfway down the hall when you heard the basement door creak open, and suddenly you were wide awake. At half past midnight, there was no way anyone other than Eddie was calling and there was definitely no way Dustin could answer that call. Increasing your pace to a slightly-panicked speedwalk until you were in the room with him, you just barely made it to the phone before him. You pressed the receiver into your chest to muffle your voice as you practically whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Dusty, it’s for me.”
“Who is it?”
“Nancy, she wanted to talk about what I got from the bookstore but she was busy with Robin and Steve,” You answered easily. He nodded and yawned out another goodnight before booking it back downstairs. Letting out a relieved exhale, you finally raised the phone to your ear. “Sorry, Dustin almost picked up. Everything okay?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s fine. I tried not to call, I swear I did, but–” He laughed a little embarrassedly, “Fuck, when can I see you again?”
“Eddie,” You whispered through a little giggle. “You had to call about that now?”
“I mean, I could always come over so we could talk about it in person instead,” He teased.
“I just left your place three hours ago.”
“Should’a just stayed the night, babe,” He sighed regretfully.
Clutching at non-existent pearls, you replied, “Stay the night? On the first date? Eddie Munson, what kind of girl do you take me for?”
“Of course, sweet thing, you’re right. You could never do anything so scandalous as sharing a bed with me before we’re really goin’ steady.” You could picture that smirk on his face as he spoke. “Guess that means we’ve gotta plan a second date, huh?”
“Guess so,” You hummed. “Have anything in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking,” He began slowly. “Maybe you could come to one of our shows? I know that’s not a super great date idea since I’m gonna be on stage pretty much the whole time and everything, but–”
“No, that sounds great,” You interrupted. “When’re you guys playing next?”
“Friday night at eight.”
“Alright, I’ll see you at The Hideout on Friday then.”
“Alright,” He cooed back playfully. “G’night, baby.”
Standing in front of your open closet, you rustled through all your clothes in indecision. “I don’t know what I should wear.” Nancy, Robin, and Steve sat side by side by side on the edge of your bed, peering into the closet from behind you. The latter opened his mouth to share an opinion but held his tongue as your younger brother leaned in your door.
“What’re you doing?”
“Uh– just trying to find something to wear, I’m going out later.” You shrugged off his question and continued shuffling through your hanging shirts.
“Again with this ‘going out’ stuff! With who?”
“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.
“Thought we’d go check out Eddie’s show at The Hideout tonight,” Steve added. “Show him some support since it’s usually just the drunks there.”
Dustin eyed you for a split second but seemed to move on from whatever suspicion he had toward you quickly. “Cool, I’ll let Mike and Lucas know. We were gonna hang at Mike’s, but we can all go to the show together instead.”
“You can’t come, Dusty. That’s not a kid-friendly environment,” You told him apologetically.
“What? Come on! We’re not kids, we’re in high school! We wanna see Eddie perform too, he’s our friend!”
“Oh, so now he’s just your guys’ friend,” Steve chimed. “Before, you were practically begging us to get along.” He stood and crossed the room to ruffle Dustin’s curls. “Seriously, dude, your sister’s right. This place is nothing but adults drinking, I doubt they’d even let you stay if you came in with us.”
“See? Your mother says no,” You confirm. “Sorry, Dustin, really. Maybe we could all do something together as a big group though soon, yeah? All of us and the Hellfire club. We could sit in on a session or take you all to the movies or something, okay?”
He paused, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his undone, patterned overshirt. “That’d actually be pretty cool. You’d do that?”
“Yeah, kid, it’s no problem.” You walked over to give him a side hug before nudging him out the door. “Now beat it, I’ve gotta get ready.” It took another minute or two of brainstorming before you decided to snag Dustin’s Hellfire t-shirt from his laundry basket– thank God you had just done his laundry for him. You thought it’d be the best fan attire since Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly selling merchandise.
Once you were ready to go, Robin called shotgun as the four of you piled into Steve’s car. “Sorry that you guys have to tag along now, but you know how Dustin gets.”
Glancing at you briefly in the rearview mirror, Steve replied, “It’s no big deal. Sorry I told him you were going to see Eddie.”
“It’s fine,” You shook your head. “I wanna lie to him as little as possible anyway, I just haven’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”
“I know he wants you to, but you don’t always have to tell him everything right away,” Robin reminded you. “I mean, what were you gonna tell him– that you were fucking one of his best friends? He doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you guys are actually together yet–” She was interrupted by a punch in the shoulder from Steve.
He gave her an incredulous look before Nancy took over, reaching over and squeezing your hand. “What she means is, you guys should take your relationship at your own pace and tell Dustin when you think the time is right.”
“Right, that’s exactly what I was gonna say,” Steve added.
Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.”
“What? I was!”
When you were finally standing in the parking lot of The Hideout, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Robin hooked an arm around your shoulders and started for the door. “Come on,” She drawled. “Let’s catch ‘em before the show starts, you’ll be okay.”
They weren’t hard to find, setting up on stage front and center. You could see Eddie kneeling down to plug in the amp until Gareth lightly hit his arm and pointed in your direction. A grin stretched across his face as his stare dragged over your frame, taking in your fishnets, short skirt, and Hellfire tee. He excused himself to the rest of the guys before jogging over to you. “Hey, I didn’t realize you guys were coming along.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Dustin found out where I was going and I didn’t want him to get nosy–”
“Are you kidding? This is the most sober people we’ve ever had in an audience, don’t sweat it.” He briefly squeezed your waist then let his hand settle on your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t meet your eyes just yet. “I appreciate you guys coming, I know it’s not really your kinda music.”
Steve waved him off. “Nah, man, I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Thanks, Harrington.” His arm moved from your waist to your shoulders, “I’m gonna steal her from you guys for a couple minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to show her some of the equipment.” Robin opened her mouth to make a smart remark but was stopped by another punch from Steve.
He guided you to a nook behind one of the walls in the far corner of the bar. Humming lowly, he cupped your face so you’d look at him. “You really dressed for the occasion, pretty girl. You look fucking incredible.”
“Well, I haven’t gotten my exclusive Corroded Coffin t-shirt yet, so I figured this was the next best thing.”
“My apologies, babe, I’ll get right on that.” He dipped his head to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.
“Somebody smoked a joint without me,” You teased.
With a good-natured smile, he rolled his eyes in false exasperation. “Sorry, should’a gotten here earlier. We can smoke all you want after, alright? Pothead.”
“What’s that thing people say?” You asked sarcastically. “I think it was something about a pot, maybe a kettle?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughed. A whistle from Gareth called his attention to the stage and he exhaled heavily. “Okay, that’s my cue. Wish me luck?”
“Like you need it,” You pecked his lips. “I’m really excited to hear you play. You guys are gonna do great.” Eddie smiled and stole one last quick kiss before darting back to the stage, leaving you to make your way back to the others.
“We may have taken the liberty of getting you a drink,” Steve said as Robin pushed a glass across the table toward you.
“I would be offended if you hadn’t.” Taking a few swigs, you looked over to where Eddie was finally settling the mic into its stand, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. They didn’t bother with grand introductions given the small crowds that gathered weren’t exactly there to see Corroded Coffin; they simply started into their set.
The boys mostly stuck to covers of semi-popular songs– sticking to their roots with Metallica and Black Sabbath, but appeasing the bar patrons with some Led Zepplin and a grudging Bon Jovi song. A few pieces they’d weaved in were their own and you could tell, but they certainly weren’t out of place. You could see where their inspiration came from.
You caught up with Nancy, Robin, and Steve between songs, but they mostly carried the conversation as you watched Eddie. Anyone really paying attention would be able to see that he was in his element. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead, fingers moving masterfully over the strings as he powered through Trapped Under Ice with incredible accuracy. While you had heard the dramatic voices he put on during Hellfire, you hadn’t known that he could also mimic James Hetfield and Ozzy very impressively. He wasn’t perfect, but what little he lacked in refinement and precision, he more than made up for with passion.
The middle-aged drunks occasionally gave some muted applause for the songs they recognized, but otherwise ignored the free entertainment. He really was underappreciated here. In front of a real audience, you couldn’t imagine the kind of stage presence he’d have.
Over the next two hours, you worked your way through a couple drinks. You hoped the frequent crossing of your legs could be attributed to the short skirt you were wearing rather than your dwindling patience and self-control as you waited for Eddie to finish his set. When they finally wrapped up their last song, you made your way up to the stage. He was lowering the mic stand when you got to him, holding his gaze as you dropped a twenty in the guitar case in front of him. There were only a few other bills and some loose change inside.
“God, please don’t. Seriously, that’s insulting.”
“Are you kidding? That’s an investment. I expect it back with interest when you guys make it big.” He held a hand out to you as you joined him on the stage. “Really, I thought you were amazing. You’ll see when you get outta this place.”
He just gave you a small smile and brushed his thumb over your cheek, eyes sweeping over your face briefly before he took both your hands. “So I really do wanna hang with you, babe, but I absolutely have to move all our gear first. Is there any way I can convince you to stick around?” His lips dragged over your knuckles, leaving a few kisses as he spoke. “Have a li’l smoke sesh in the back of the van once it’s empty. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Your chest warmed at the attention he was lavishing you with in front of all of his friends– Dustin’s friends– and you tucked your chin a little bashfully. “That’s fine, Eds.”
“Awesome. We’re gonna finish loading the van, then you can ride with me to Gare’s to unload everything there, then I’m all yours. Cool?”
“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”
Holding your face in one hand, he squished your cheeks and shook your head back and forth lightly. “Always makin’ fun ‘a me, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on your puckered lips and subtly patted your butt. “Go sit with your friends and I’ll let you know when I’m finished, okay? So glad I had my best girl cheerin’ me on tonight.”
As he went back to helping the guys pack up, you went back to Robin, Nancy, and Steve who paused their conversation when you sat down.
“Swooning already?”
“Somebody’s definitely looking a little starstruck,” Robin added. “Ready to ask him to sign your boobs?”
“The way it’s sounding, he might later,” You replied before taking a sip of your drink.
“I’m proud of you,” She nodded and took your hands dramatically over the table. “At least one of us is leading a successful love life. We will live vicariously through you.”
“Well then, let me know when we figure out how to tell our little brother that we’re dating his male mentor.”
“Wait, did Dustin say Eddie was his male mentor?” Steve interjected. “That’s so not true–”
Robin shook her head. “Steve, shut up.” She smacked your hand and nodded behind you just before you felt hands settle on your chair.
“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” Eddie’s rings clinked against the metal of the chair, his voice not far from your ear making your heart rate pick up.
“Yeah, you guys were great. We’ll have to come again sometime,” Steve replied.
Nancy politely asked, “How long have you been playing, Eddie? Some of those songs seemed pretty complex.”
“I started playing with the guys when I was in eighth grade, but I started teaching myself around sixth. So, I guess about…nine or ten years?” He shrugged, thumbs drumming against the chair.
“You’re really talented,” She commended.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” His hand shifted to your shoulder before he continued on playfully, “Your guys’ friend here gets a backstage pass though, which means she gets to come watch us unload equipment at Gareth’s mom’s house and smoke my weed.” He took your hand as you stepped down from your high-top chair, pushing it in for you and grabbing your purse as you said goodbye. “Thank you guys again for coming. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?”
Steve gave him a one-armed hug as he nodded, “Definitely, man.”
The two of you walked back to the van, hand in hand, your steps echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot. The others were already waiting in Gareth’s garage passing around a joint when you pulled into the driveway. You followed Eddie around to the back of the van as he opened one of the back doors. Gareth got up to open the other one, handing you the joint as he passed you.
“Alright, boys, think we can manage our fastest unload yet?” Eddie asked, cracking his knuckles.
“Yeah. As long as you don’t tweak your fuckin’ back again, old ass,” Jeff scoffed in return.
“Seriously, dude. Lift with your legs,” Gareth chimed.
Eddie made a talking motion with his hand and mumbled mockingly back before grabbing one of Gareth’s drums. “Start moving your shit or I’ll stop discounting your weed.”
“Oh, yes! Forgive me, master!” Gareth snarked, voice quavering with feigned fear.
They all got to work on moving the drum kit out first before moving on to the other equipment. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you took a hit and sat on the edge of one of the chairs they had out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I mean, there’s a fridge in the corner, you wanna grab a few beers?” Jeff asked, getting a grasp on one side of an amp.
Gripping the other side of the amp, Eddie gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, did you seriously just send her on a beer run?”
“It’s literally the other side of the garage. Shut the fuck up and bend your knees.”
You grabbed a beer for everyone– except Eddie, who was stuck with cherry Coke until he was done driving– and passed them out when they were done moving the amps. Then, to kill some of the time, you sat in the van and packed a bowl to smoke with Eddie later. When the equipment left in the back started to dwindle, you, Jeff, and Barry made conversation while Eddie unloaded some of the lighter equipment with Gareth. Keeping his voice low, the drummer suddenly spoke. “You know you have to like– marry her, right?”
“What’re you talking about?” Eddie chuckled, though his face and neck warmed at the mental image.
Gareth jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in your direction. “Dude, she’s over there talking to your nerdy loser bandmates about Judas Priest’s influences on Iron Maiden’s first album. And she’s actually invested. You’re not gonna find another girl like that in Hawkins. Not to mention how you talk about her–”
“Alright, shut it,” He huffed. “Just help me get this shit out, it’s getting late.”
When the last of it was finally tucked away in Gareth’s garage, Eddie checked his watch and sighed. Eleven-thirty. “Damn.” Your conversation with the boys had drifted to your opinions on heavy metal power ballads when his hands settled on your waist. “Sorry that took so long, you ready to get going?”
“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ll see you guys later though, alright? We should really head out.” The three of them thanked you for coming and said their goodbyes before settling back into their fold-out chairs, presumably to keep getting fried.
You and Eddie climbed into the van and he started it up before looking over at you. “It’s not the first date anymore. Any chance I can convince you to stay the night?”
“No convincing needed. I didn’t know how late I’d be home so I already asked Nancy to cover for me if Dustin calls.”
“Wait, you really want to?”
“Of course I do. Will Wayne mind me staying there?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t care. He works the night shift and sometimes he works overtime, so he usually isn’t back until six or eight in the morning. And occasionally he’ll even stop for a drink with a couple guys from work and that could take ‘til ten,” He explained with a little crooked smile. “He’d love you, though.”
You noticed him freeze up a little as he registered his own words, so you took one of his hands and laced your fingers through his in your lap. “I’m sure I’d love him, too. He must be a great man if he raised you.”
He squeezed your hand lightly as he relaxed. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” There was a moment of quiet, just the low hum of the radio and the roar of the van until Eddie spoke again. “You wouldn’t wanna go to Lover’s Lake, would you?”
“Sure.” His hand settled on your thigh and your lips curled down as you repressed a little smirk. “I didn’t take you for the type.”
“Hey, I can be romantic,” He defended lightheartedly. “I just prefer places like these when they’re less populated.”
“Why? So you can smoke and have sex in them?” You asked with a joking scoff.
“No, I just like my privacy. It’s more intimate without a bunch of obnoxious people around.” He paused, then conceded. “But yes, I like to have a range of recreational activities to choose from. Is that so bad?”
You shifted your leg so his hand drifted further up your thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking me there to do both, would you, Eds?”
“I’m taking you there to do whatever you wanna do, sweet thing.” His tone remained casual, but his hand slowly crept higher and higher. “We could lay down and look at the stars…Maybe go for a swim…” Goosebumps rose on your skin as his short nails dragged across it, fingers catching on the loops of your fishnets. “What d’you think?”
“We didn’t bring swimsuits,” You remind him.
“So?” He asked as he pulled into the small gravel lot hidden by the trees. Looking over at you with a smirk, he continued, “There’s no one else here.” He got out of the van and came around to open your door as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”
After grabbing a couple of blankets from the back of the van, he took your hand and lead you out away from the trees. You helped him lay out the blankets, crawling onto them and kicking off your shoes. Eddie lay down beside you and you looked over at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been out here at night. It’s really pretty.”
“Can’t believe you think so when you get to look in the mirror every day,” He shot back without effort, giving you that goofy grin of his.
Lightly smacking his arm, you fought back a big smile of your own. “That was terrible, you know that, right? That was actually so bad.” Your combined laughter sounded loud in the near-silent clearing of the lake; your voices were only accompanied by the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot.
He rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked down at you. “You’ve gotta get used to taking my compliments, babe, even the corny ones. ‘Cause soon they’ll be comin’ non-stop.” You simply hummed in response, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to shift over you, arms on either side of you to support himself as his knee braced between your legs. Lips sticky with your lip gloss, his mouth made a path to your neck. “Y’really do look so pretty tonight, baby. Never seen you in a skirt before, I could barely pay attention to our set.”
“I thought you did amazing.” His hot breath on your neck made you squirm, grasping at his shirt as your hips wound against the firmness of his thigh. “Had me wet the whole time.”
“Fuck, wanted to get my hands on you so bad. Just performing had you all soaked for me, huh?” Your skirt rode up toward your waist until Eddie decided it was unnecessary, leaning back to yank it off. “Jesus H. Christ, fucking look at you.” Lying beneath him, fishnets stretched taut over your spread thighs leading up to your Hellfire tee, you were his fucking dream. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t a religious man but, at that moment, he wished he was because he felt like he needed to thank somebody for your existence. It was like every fantasy he’d ever had simply walked out of his head and into his life. “Seriously, I might need to take a minute.”
“Can you help me out of these while you do?” You ask, curling your legs up to your chest.
He guided one of them up to his shoulder, running his hand down your outstretched leg and eyeing the tights before he looked at you. “Am I in trouble if I say no?”
“If you take them off now without ripping them I’ll wear them for you again sometime,” You bargained teasingly.
“I’ll do it if you let me eat you out through them next time.”
You shoved lightly at his chest with your foot, trying not to laugh. “You’re such a freak.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but you could see he didn’t take the name to heart coming from you as his hips pressed into your ass. “Careful callin’ me names, babe. I’m starting to like it when you’re mean to me.”
“Pervert.”
He hummed, trailing kisses down the inside of your leg and finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your fishnets. “Only for you, sweetheart.” His short nails scraped gently along your skin again as he carefully drew the tights down your legs. The second they were off, you sat up to pull him into another hungry kiss.
Deepening it, he started to ease you onto your back again but was shocked when you pulled away. With a coy smile, you asked, “How ‘bout that swim?”
Baffled, he was unable to come up with a response before you were standing and whipping your shirt off. His brain kicked back into gear when you dashed away from him toward the lake. Then he was running after you, fumbling to kick off his shoes and strip in the process. He froze as he watched you take off your bra and jump in wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. Finally kicking off his jeans, Eddie dove in after you.
Attempting to wipe the water from your eyes, you looked around for him in the water. Just as he breached the surface behind you, though, he grabbed your waist and shouted. Your squeal broke into a fit of giggles as he squeezed your sides and pulled you into his chest. “You’re such a dick!”
“That’s what you get for bein’ a tease.” Staying close to shore, the water came nearly to his shoulders. He urged you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands settling under your butt to hold you comfortably.
Arms settling loosely around his neck, you looked away pointedly, that mischievous little expression finding its way to your face again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you don’t. ‘Cause the sweet girl I know would never do a thing like that, right?” He asked sarcastically.
You shook your head and answered in a falsely solemn tone. “Never.”
He chuckled softly until you leaned into him, nipples hardened from the chill of the water and pressing into his chest. Faint smiles never left your faces as you shared a few messy kisses. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down your spine while you pushed a strand of wet hair from his face. Swept off his shoulders, his soaked hair allowed you to see his whole face more clearly than ever. He started to feel self-conscious as your eyes drifted slowly over his features, taking him in, your thumb stroking over a spot beneath his ear that gave him chills. “You’re so handsome, Eddie.” He opened his mouth slightly like he was going to respond, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything so you changed the topic for him. “It’s nice here at night, we should come back again sometime when we don’t have any other plans.”
Eyebrows furrowing, he frowned in confusion. “What do you mean ‘other plans’?”
Untangling yourself from him, you faced him and swam backward toward the dock. “Hotboxing the van and having amazing sex, obviously. C’mon.” Climbing out, you held your arm tight over your chest as you snagged your bra off the dock and ran to the blankets still on the ground.
Eddie was close behind, picking up his trail of abandoned clothing. He started to apologize for the lack of towels, but you quickly waved him off and you both dried off as well as you could with one of the blankets. While you wrapped yourself in the dry blanket, he gathered your things with his to carry it all back to the car. “Go ahead and get in the back, I’ll start it up and get the music going.”
Opening one of the back doors, you found that the floor was already covered with other blankets. Climbing inside, you felt the van rumble to life. You could hear Eddie rustling through cassettes in his console as you peeled off your sopping-wet underwear and curled up with the pillows and blankets he’d put back there. The bowl you’d packed in hand, he finally joined you in the back. When he climbed in he paused to fidget with something you couldn’t see and suddenly the back doors were illuminated by little twinkling lights. He swung the door closed and tugged off his boxers before you asked, “When did you have time to do all this?”
“Hm? Oh, it’s all been back here for a little while. I just laid the blankets out in here when I grabbed the other ones to lay down by the lake.” He settled beside you, the top half of his blanket bunched in his lap leaving you free to ogle his tattoos– a favorite pastime of yours. “You want the first hit?”
You shook your head with a small smile, eyes tracing his features like they had in the lake. His hair was still heavy with water, but his forehead was hidden again and his curls were starting to come back. With nothing but moonlight, his eyes had looked black; in the glow of the fairy lights, you could see their warm cocoa-brown color again. His pretty lips formed an O as smoke billowed out of them. Their blushy-pink color nearly matched the flush on his cheeks, which you knew would spread to his neck and chest soon enough. He was beautiful, really.
He offered you the bowl and it stayed quiet, excepting the Master of Reality album playing softly, while you took a few long rips. You passed it back to him and let the silence continue for a moment before you finally said, “I’m gonna tell Dustin.” Unintentionally hitching in a breath, he choked on a throatful of smoke. The resulting coughing fit was so intense it brought tears to his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh as you rubbed his back. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you still leaned over the console to grab the bottle of water from the cup holder.
Taking a few swigs, he cleared his throat. “Okay, sorry,” He let out a big breath before he looked at you again. “You’re ready to tell him?”
“Yeah.” Too nervous to hold his gaze, you curled into his side. He welcomed you, of course, tucking his blanket around the both of you and kissing the top of your head. “I just feel like things have gotten…real. You try to take care of me in ways no one else has before and everything feels so easy with you– and honestly, both of those things scare the shit out of me ‘cause that usually means everything is absolutely going to go to shit…But you look out for my brother, and I feel like I can trust you, and everything we do together just feels so intimate…” You huffed embarrassedly and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I think Dustin deserves to know that I care about you so much.”
“That we care about each other,” He corrected you. Hand framing your jaw, Eddie made you meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be there with you when you tell him. I don’t want you to do it alone, we should do it together. I still have to get his blessing, right?” He added jokingly. Before you could say anything, he started to ramble a little nervously. “I feel like this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve never had the chance to have anything serious before, but you…You’re all I think about now. That first day I met you, it was like I had this ‘Where have you been all my life?’ moment and you’re all I’ve wanted since, and I know that sounds really cheesy and dramatic but–”
Your mouth on his cut him off, which seemed to be a habit you were forming. He didn’t mind though, he’d been told to shut up in much less pleasant ways. When you pulled away, it was only enough to murmur, “I know the feeling.” Your nose nudging his was enough for him to keep it going, hand hooking under your knee and drawing you to straddle his lap.
The blanket slumped to your waist leaving your torso bare for his eyes and hands to wander. “You’re just so fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty girl, right, baby?”
Toying with one of his damp curls, you held his gaze as you agreed, “No one else’s.” At your answer, he pulled you in for a much more desperate kiss. His fingers pressed into your back while the others slipped beneath you to find you soaked, your chest flush with his as his tongue passed your lips.
He pressed two fingers into you easily, slowly massaging your g-spot until you were whining into his mouth. “Feels like you might not even need me to stretch you out, sweetheart.” Hips canting forward involuntarily, your clit ground into the thick base of his cock. Finally letting you catch your breath, he withdrew his hand from between you and looked down to watch how your slick spread on his skin as he rutted against you. “Mmm, gonna let me show you how bad I need you?”
You brushed his hair back from his shoulders as you breathily replied, “Condom?”
“Wallet,” He answered. Leaning over his shoulder to grab it off the console put you in the perfect position for Eddie to mouth at your tits, lips wrapping around one nipple while the roughened pads of his fingers found the other. You moaned quietly and tugged at his hair, but grabbed the wallet and rifled through it.
“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”
“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.
Huffing impatiently, you began to wind your hips against his again. “D’you promise to pull out if I let you fuck me raw?”
He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Really– I mean, are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“Need to feel you now, Eddie,” You insisted.
“Alright, sweetheart, I promise.” He lovingly pecked your lips before grasping your waist, helping keep you steady as you slowly sank down on him. Fully seated in his lap, a gasp rose in your throat. “There you go,” He murmured comfortingly. “I know, baby, but you’re so good. Can finally feel how wet you really are. Takin’ me so deep.”
Your voice was nothing but a high-pitched, airy sigh. “Feel you everywhere.”
“S’Cause I’m made for you.” Your forehead rested against his as he continued. “I was made to fill you up, pretty girl.” His words provoked a pathetic moan from you, spurring you to lift your hips fractionally just to ease back down again. Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you tried to start up a steady pace, but your thighs trembled with every motion. The moans and whimpers you let out started to sound quiet and watery and it worried him, but the determined rocking of your hips never ceased. “You doing okay, baby?”
Not lifting your head, you sniffed frustratedly. “Need help, Eddie.”
“Oh, baby, why didn’t you say so?” He cooed sympathetically. “S’okay to need my help, c’mere.”
Arms around your waist, he guided you up and down on his cock at a careful speed until you were grinding down on him again. “Eds please, I need more,” You whimpered. Rolling his hips to meet yours, he didn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around you and quicken his pace. The way he was hitting every possible spot inside you had your eyes squeezing shut to keep them from crossing. Thighs trembling, you shivered as he rubbed and squeezed at them.
Eddie’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the console, hands running slowly over your hips and across your stomach to palm at your tits. “Look so pretty on top’a me, sweet girl. Might have to make you ride me more often.” His thrusts into you sped up, the console against his back giving him more leverage. One of your hands rested lightly on his lower abdomen to steady yourself but once his thumb found your clit, you were practically writhing in his lap. He rubbed it in firm, precise circles and felt you squeeze around his cock uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Can’t wait to feel you soak me for the first time.”
Something felt different than usual as that coil wound tighter in your stomach. It was hotter, like flames were crawling across your skin. It felt like your bones shook and your eyes swam with stars as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his stomach, those of the other hand doing the same to his thigh, trying to anchor yourself with your head in the clouds.
It wasn’t until the ringing in your ears cleared that you heard Eddie’s feral groans, making you look down. Everything was drenched; your thighs, his cock, his stomach, and his chest glistened wet in the warm lights. The sight made you register the sloshing sounds of your dripping wet pussy as he started to slow his thrusts enough to pull out. Arms enclosing around your waist again, he all but pinned you to his chest as he rutted between your stomachs. Lips molding to yours, he kissed you sloppily before his gaze wandered your body in awe. “Can’t believe you fuckin’ squirted f’me. Fuck–” Cut off by his own moan, his forehead fell to your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, his hot spend painting both your skin and his.
After he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, he eased you onto your back, watching the filthy mixture of your come drip down your used cunt. “Eds, what’re you doin’?” You asked timidly as he lowered himself between your thighs, voice coming out in a barely-there squeak.
“Wishin’ I could take a fucking picture, sweetheart. I was gonna clean you up. Want me to use the blanket instead? S’okay if you’re too sensitive, especially after all that.” You nodded and he kissed the side of your knee with a smile as he grabbed the soiled blanket and quickly wiped himself off. Your legs flinched as he patted you dry and his eyes filled with concern as he murmured your name. “Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?”
“No,” You struggled to raise your voice above a mumble. “I’m okay, Eds, I’m jus’ all sensitive.”
“Promise me that’s it?” He asked, running his hands comfortingly over your legs. Pointedly avoiding his gaze, you huffed through your nose and your eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, c’mon, what is it? What’s the matter?”
You answered him in a whimper, sniffing back tears every few words. “I jus’ made a mess ‘n I’ve never done that before ‘n now everything’s all yucky–”
“Aw, baby,” He chuckled through a sympathetic pout. Lying down and drawing you to his chest, he wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. The two of you curled up under one of the clean blankets. “Nothing’s yucky, sweet girl. Just gotta wash the blankie, no big deal.”
“But ‘m still all sticky,” You pout up at him. “C’n we take a bath when we get home?”
“Home?”
“Your trailer, Eddie,” You whine. “Wanna take a bath.” Lids heavy with exhaustion, your eyes slowly fluttered closed repeatedly before they’d snap open again.
“You’re so sleepy, sweet girl.” He brushed your hair back from your face. “Think you can take a little nap back here while I drive us home?” You nodded dreamily but still clutched at him whenever he tried to get up. “I know, baby, just twenty minutes and we can take a bath. Okay?” When you finally conceded, he tugged on his jeans and made the short drive home.
Once you were bathed and dressed in nothing but a borrowed Metallica t-shirt, he tucked you into his bed before crawling in beside you. You dozed off easily with your head on his chest, but he stayed up just a little while longer. Palm rubbing circles on your back, his lips ghosted over your forehead. “I love you, baby,” He whispered almost silently. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feeling of your heart beating against his side, counting them like a child would sheep until he fell asleep.
The next morning, you woke up first, Eddie’s arms around you and his chest molded to your back. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help your tiny smirk as you registered the feeling of him squeezing at your tit, his even, heavy breaths against your shoulder telling you he was fast asleep. Slowly rocking your hips back, you bit back a laugh when it made his grasp tighten while he nuzzled into your neck. He rutted against you, half-hearted and arrhythmic in his unconscious state. It wasn’t until you reached back to hold his hip and grind directly against his cock, separated only by his boxers, that he finally grunted himself awake. “Mmm, g’morning t’you too, gorgeous.”
“You’re a perv even in your sleep, you know that, Munson?”
He mouthed at your neck with a sleepy grin, “I could’a told you that. How’d you know I was dreamin’ about you?”
“Well, your right hand was my first clue.” You pointedly ground your hips into his again and looked back over your shoulder at him, “Wanna guess my second?”
“Can’t help but get ideas, babe. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, in my shirt, no panties…” His fingers walked a path down your stomach, stopping just after your belly button. “Promise I kept my hands to myself, though– while I was awake, anyway.”
His hand drifted leisurely between your legs but you groaned. “Eds, what time is it?”
“I don’t know, almost nine? Why?” His lips never left your skin, still working over your neck and shoulder without leaving obvious marks.
“We can’t, we have to go. Dustin’s at Mike’s and I wanna make sure we get back before him. I’ve still gotta make myself decent and figure out what I’m gonna say to him.”
“What we’re gonna say to him,” He corrected. “And can’t you stay indecent a little longer?”
“Wayne’ll be home anytime,” You remind him, “If he’s not already.”
He pouted, “But how often do we get to have great morning sex after a night together like this, baby?”
“Any morning now that I’ll be staying over whenever you want,” You point out.
“Hmm, I s’pose that’s true,” He agreed contently. Stretching out beside you with a loud groan, he pecked your cheek before he got out of bed. Yawning, “I’ll be right back,” he headed for the bathroom.
Rolling over, you buried your face in his pillow and breathed in. Old spice shampoo, weed, and Marlboros filled your nose and it made every muscle in your body relax. Him. You wanted to bottle the scent, soak every pillow and blanket and sweatshirt you owned with it. You’d never have another restless night again. Lifting your head slightly, you left your nose against the fabric but allowed your eyes to flicker around his room.
A bottle of lotion sat on his nightstand, he didn’t seem to bother with tissues though. You weren’t surprised. Handcuffs hung on the wall, also not surprising, but they still made your thighs twitch. There were more band posters than in your room, including a hand-spray-painted one for Corroded Coffin. He had three guitars, his prized possession– his other sweetheart, as well as another black and white electric, and an acoustic painted to say ‘this machine slays dragons’. An amp sat across from the bed and his dressers were strewn with clothes and beer cans. It was easy to imagine him existing in here. Playing guitar in bed in his boxers or planning the party’s next campaign at his desk.
Your eyes snapped to the door when it finally opened again. “Still in bed, huh?” Nodding with a small smile, you watched him rummage through his dresser for today’s band tee. His hand settled on Slayer before he thought of running into your mom, and opted for the much tamer Deep Purple one beneath it. “Well, you should probably put somethin’ else on before I take you home. What you’ve got on might get a little breezy.”
“Bite me,” You yawned, flipping him off as you got up.
“I didn’t think we had time for that,” He replied snarkily. He finished getting dressed as you slipped on your skirt and balled up your fishnets to put in your purse.
When you were both ready– or as ready as you could get for now– you headed for the van. “I’ll make coffee when we get to mine,” You offer. “My mom should be at work, so I’ll make breakfast. Food might help soften the blow.”
“God, you’re acting like we killed his cat or something,” He laughed. “We’re not breaking bad news, babe.”
“It’s still a shock, alright? And Dustin has big feelings, you know that. I just don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable or lied to. Me and him don’t usually keep secrets, so this is a big deal.”
“I can be tactful, alright? But I’ll let you do most of the talking if that makes you feel better, I know you’re worried about him.” His fingers laced through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay though, sweet girl.”
Pulling into your driveway, you let out a heavy breath before you got out and lead him inside. As you got dressed, you tried to practice what you’d say, rambling your thoughts aloud. He left you to your process, only stepping in for you to bounce thoughts off of or to keep you from getting lost in your concerns. You only paused once you made your way into the kitchen. Putting a pot of coffee on, you asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes okay for breakfast? They’re his favorite. I’ll probably make a little of everything else too; eggs, bacon, sausage, there’s fruit in the fridge.”
Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep the words ‘marry me’ from rolling off his lips. “Sounds incredible, baby. Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s okay.” Watching you methodically gather everything you needed from the fridge and cabinets, he figured he’d just get in your way if he tried to lend a hand. While you cooked, you mumbled through your prepared speech again, knowing it would never go so smoothly in actual conversation. Thinking about it more, you just hoped Lucas and Mike didn’t come back with him.
By the time he made it home, leaving his bike in the yard, you had made more than enough food and Eddie had already eaten his. Dustin was talking the second the door was open. “What’re you doing here, Eddie? Something going on with Hellfire?”
“Nice to see you too, Henderson.” He retorted, standing and flicking the bill of your brother’s hat into his eyes. “Your sister made you breakfast. I hear chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite.”
He eyed both of you suspiciously as he started toward the kitchen. "Yeah, what's it to you?" Eddie shared a confused look with you, but decided not to say anything. After he’d made his plate and sat down at the table to dig in, Dustin spoke again with a mouthful of food. “So, what’s with the special breakfast? Why’re you guys being weird?”
“We’re not being weird–”
“You’re alone at the house together,” He pointed out, still shoveling food into his face. “That’s weird.”
“It’s not weird– would you just listen? It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to run something by you, alright?” Eddie could tell you were fumbling, forgetting everything you’d planned to say. His hand itched to reach out for yours on the table, but he knew you wanted to get the words out first. “I’ve been–”
“Seeing Eddie?” Dustin interrupted. When the two of you shared a glance and you opened your mouth to question him, he continued. “Mike and Lucas told me last night.”
“How did they–” Eddie began, but Dustin cut him off.
“Apparently, everybody knew but me! All the guys in the band knew! Steve, Nancy, and Robin knew! How could you leave me out of the loop like this? You know I hate not knowing things! I have to know everything!”
“Dusty, calm down,” You said softly. “I wanted to wait until I actually had something to tell you. He’s your friend, I didn’t want to change the way you look at him just to go on a couple dates and decide it wasn’t gonna work.”
Nose wrinkling, he asked, “So, what? You guys are like– boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?”
You snorted and Eddie couldn’t help the small, smug smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Back of your hand hitting his stomach, you tried not to laugh as you answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Turning back to your brother, you added, “Only if you’re okay with it, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you can’t trust Eddie anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird, but I guess I don’t care as long as you don’t make out and all that gross shit in front of me. And you’d better treat her right or me, Mike, and Lucas are all leaving Hellfire,” He tagged on pointedly.
“You don’t have to worry about that, you have my word.” He looked like he was about to say more, but opted to stay quiet.
“Okay, well, I think I’ve lost my appetite for now.” Dustin stood from the table, “I’m gonna go back to Mike’s and tell them they were right.”
Rolling your eyes, you started to clean up. “Be safe, I love you.”
“Love you, too!” He shouted back just before he yanked the door shut.
As you started rinsing dishes in the sink, Eddie’s hands found your waist. “I think that went well.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t stay awkward for long,” You sighed lightly. “I guess Lucas and Mike did the hard part for us.”
“Guess so,” He drawled in agreement. “So, what now?”
“Now? Hmm…” Drying off your hands, you turned to loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess now we do whatever we want, no more sneaking around.”
“I hope that’s not gonna suck the fun out of it for you.”
“‘Cause watching you Tetris yourself through my window is such a turn-on,” You scoffed.
He gave you a look of mock offendedness. “Good thing I won’t have to do it anymore, since you clearly don’t appreciate the athletic prowess it takes to climb through that window without waking your mom up.”
Halfheartedly rolling your eyes yet again, you let your fingers dip past the neck of his shirt, fingers grazing along the top of his spine. “How about you roll us a joint and then I’ll show you how much I appreciate your ‘athletic prowess’?”
“You drive a hard bargain, babe,” He sighed theatrically. “But you know it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Obviously,” Lacing your fingers through his, you dragged him toward your room. “That’s why I offered.”
As the three boys gathered at Mike’s house again, he asked, “Wait, we were right?”
Lucas stood, pointing at him. “I TOLD YOU, MAN!”
Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”
“I TOLD YOU!”
“GUYS, SHUT THE HELL UP!” Dustin interjected.
Lucas cleared his throat as the two of them settled back into their seats. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“So, you’re really okay with Eddie dating your sister? I mean, it’s not gonna make Hellfire awkward or anything, is it?” Mike questioned.
“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’ll definitely be nasty seeing them all lovey-dovey or whatever, but they’re still just Eddie and my sister. As long as they don’t act different, I won’t act different.” Turning on the TV, Dustin flopped onto the couch next to Mike. “Besides, I think part of me knew they’d hit it off– I’m like a natural matchmaker. They just have too much in common, ya know?”
part one | part two | tmic masterlist
tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trln @cantreadbutcute @kennedy-brooke @navs-bhat @sluggzillaa @whatwedontdointheshadows @saayanaaa @depressedacidtest @unholyyylita @m-chmcl-rmnc @pullhisteeth @vivalasv3gan @a3trogirl @thesagewitchh @djoseph-quinn @darlingdixon
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#too much in common#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie munson x henderson!reader smut#eddie munson x f!reader smut#eddie munson x f!reader#stoner!reader#18+ mdni
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Something Real
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader
Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…
AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6.3K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.
Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️
🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist
“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.
The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile.
The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.
“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.
“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied.
This, from the man who storms burning buildings.
You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest.
“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.
It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out.
“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go.
“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.
Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.
Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism.
“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.
“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”
“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”
You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.
“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”
Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting.
“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile.
“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.”
Dean hummed again, raising his brows.
“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.
You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.
“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”
Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own.
“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”
His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.
It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given.
Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool.
Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room.
“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”
But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him.
“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through.
“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed.
You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door.
“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”
Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”
“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.
“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said.
They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.
It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.)
Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already.
You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night.
“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.
At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.
“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”
You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness.
“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.
Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.
“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”
You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.
Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…
Your newfound family.
The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.
By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.
The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before.
However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.
It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public.
You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door.
“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”
“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled.
“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”
You had to laugh.
“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.
You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.
You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag.
“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile.
“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool.
There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.
You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.
“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said.
Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool.
You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.
Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks.
“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow.
“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said.
You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”
Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand.
“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.
He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.
Dean could see there was something off with you, though.
“You okay?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”
Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you.
One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about.
He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.”
You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”
Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man.
“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”
After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear.
“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”
Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding.
Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.
Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage.
That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”
You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention.
Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.
Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”
He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.
“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt.
Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”
“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.”
You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off.
You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.
“Thanks,” you whispered.
He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”
You smirked and twined your arms around his neck.
“I prefer Captain,” you said.
Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”
“I really do,” you replied cheekily.
After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear.
“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm.
You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family.
Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm.
You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go.
You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth.
You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms.
Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.
Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.
“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.
“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.
“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him.
“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.
“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning.
You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.
“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”
At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”
You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.
“Yes, you do,” you agreed.
Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing.
“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”
Dean was quiet for a beat.
“How long then?” he asked.
“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment.
“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”
The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.
Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.
“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”
You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile.
“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.
Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”
Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.
That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.
Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.
“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”
Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.
“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”
Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.
She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.
You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…
“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.
“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.
She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours.
“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”
It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.
As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry.
Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.
Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.
When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.
“What do you think?” you asked.
Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you.
“Damn,” he said lowly.
You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.
“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand.
“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.
You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”
Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.
“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.
He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”
You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.
“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.”
Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said.
“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”
He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head.
“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.
“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”
Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”
You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”
And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself.
“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.
“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said.
“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.
“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”
Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.
“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.
You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.
“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.
Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.
“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled.
“I’m counting on it.”
You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake to make up for it.)
You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.
He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.
“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement.
Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind.
“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”
Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”
“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly.
The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.
“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.
“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”
You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”
“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”
You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.
“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.
“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”
Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while.
Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche.
A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind.
“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked.
“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”
“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks.
He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”
“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”
Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him.
Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast.
He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex.
“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now.
You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead.
“Come on,” you whispered.
When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.
He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water.
Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.
In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts.
He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.
He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”
“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was.
Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand.
You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”
“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.
You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body.
But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit.
“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.
You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”
He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone.
And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him.
“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls.
By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss.
“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked.
You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever.
“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”
Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.
“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.
To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants.
“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss.
Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light.
A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow.
A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone.
Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job.
Now, he had an actual future to build with you.
And he was more than ready to get started.
AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️🔥
Want to read this in podfic form? (Note: A "podcast" fic is a narrated version by my lovely friend Sandra, one of the hosts of the Idling in the Impala SPN podcast.)
🎙️ Listen to the episode by clicking the thumbnail below:
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Smoke Eater Series Masterlist
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
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#Something Real#Smoke Eater#dean winchester#Firefighter!Dean Winchester#dean winchester x reader#Dean Winchester x female reader#dean winchester x you#firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader#firefighter AU#dean winchester smut#dean winchester AU#spn#supernatural#sam winchester#eileen leahy#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester au#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#SE-verse#dean x reader#dean x you#zepskies writes
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tw - unbalanced power dynamics, prolonged imprisonment, wrongful imprisonment.
You’d gotten a key to his office, somehow.
For as much freedom as Wriothesley tried to allow the prisoners Fortress of Meropide, he couldn’t help but wonder how you pulled that little trick off. There were only two copies, one of which he wore at his waist at all hours of the day while the other remained inside a sealed vault, locked behind a code only he knew. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d done it, and yet, there you were, emerging at the top of the staircase that led into his only private space, toying with a small bronze key and smiling too brightly for any part of your flawless expression to be genuine. The dubiously-acquired key was slid into one of the pockets of your cover-alls, your smile gifted the company of a breathy laugh, and then, any distance he might’ve been able to keep between the two of you was closed as you clambered onto his desk, stealing what little concentration he still had away. With a sigh, he pushed his chair back, giving you his full attention. This was a familiar routine, one he didn’t have the energy to fight. It wasn’t as if his resistance had ever done much good, not when it came to you.
You spoke first, predictably. He’d never really been the instigating type. “Good morning, your grace.”
“My cigarettes,” he said, nodding towards the corner of his desk where a red-striped paper box had sat a few seconds ago. “If you’re desperate enough to steal, you would’ve tried asking nicely first.”
Rolling your eyes, you produced his missing vice and handed it back to him, but not without snagging one for yourself and stowing it away for later use. It was a minor infraction, though – nothing he couldn’t write off as the price of your visit. “You know,” he went on, leaning back in his seat. “That kind of thing can add time onto your sentence. Not all the guards are going to be as forgiving as me.”
“None of the other guards have anything worth stealing.” Your tone was light, your answer given easily. Sometimes, he tried to picture what you’d look like frowning, yelling, or worse, with pursed lips, clenched fists, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to maintain what little dignity you had left, but he always came up empty. You were good at that – knowing just how much you could show without giving yourself away entirely. If Wriothesley was a crueler man, he may have been tempted to try and take you apart himself. “And even if they did, I’d still come to you first.” His response came in the form of an unimpressed scowl, and you chuckled. “C’mon! Even your heart can’t be cold enough not to find that at least a little bit touching, boss.”
Another sigh, this one somehow more drained than the last. “It’d mean more to me if your rehabilitation seriously,” and then, tapping his leg, “But, my treasured possessions aren’t all you’re here for, right?”
It was your turn to play exasperated, now, to groan and let your head lull to the side as you lowered yourself off of the desk and onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. This was part of your routine, too – his favorite part, as loathed as he’d be to ever say that out loud. Try as he might, he had yet to find anything that could compare to the way your weight rested against his, to how your body head warmed just a touch of the chill that’d seeped under his skin and settled years ago. Not many things were able to live in the fortress, not for very long, and yet, here you were, just as radiant as the day the gardes brought you in. If he’d had a more scientific mind, he might’ve thought you were worth studying.
“How long?” Your voice drew him out of his thoughts. He hummed and you repeated yourself, as well-trained as you were rebellious. “How long do I have left before I’m free to go?”
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, resting his hands on your hips. “You can’t expect me to know something like that off the top of my head, love.”
“Yes, I can.” He felt you slump against him, your fingertips brush against the nape of his neck. “When it comes to me, I can.”
He let his eyes fall shut. “I requested another six months be added to your sentence last week,” he admitted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into your throat “Since you had yet to show any signs of lasting rehabilitation. The Iudex approved it yesterday.”
You were so soft, too – uncalloused despite the pressure of the world above, the brutality of what waited for you below. He’d let you steal as many keys as you wanted to, so long as you never hardened. “This is the third extension you’ve asked for.”
“The longest, too.” He’d let you take anything from him, so long as it meant you never left his little world. “I doubt he even revisited your case. People in the overworld don’t tend to pay attention to the finer details of what does on down here, so long as I keep the factories running.”
For a second, he could’ve sworn he felt you stiffen, could’ve sworn he felt your grin waver where it was pressed into the dip of your shoulder.
Then, you were pulling away, your smile as bright as the sun’s light where it caught on the rising tide and twice as beautiful. “You’re never going to let me go, are you?”
This time, he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Not if I can help it.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere genshin impact#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin#genshin impact imagines#wriothesley x reader#yandere wriothesley#yanderecore#yancore
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There's No Going Back // Jey Uso x Reader
**Author's Note: Hiiiii, this is my first ever fic writing so go easy on me 🤭 but if you like this feel free to give me some more suggestions too! Happy reading!**
Plot -> Y/N catches her boyfriend of three years in their shared bed with someone else. When she goes to her best friend Josh’s to gather her thoughts and seek some consolation, she learns that’s not the only thing she’s going to find when she walks in the door…
Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N) Warnings -> Cheating (made up BF name), Cursing, Hickies, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Minors DNI
Word Count -> 3.4k
Nothing seemed to be going right for Y/N today. It started by her spilling hot coffee on her shirt at 6am, making her atrociously late to her morning meetings at work, followed by her getting written up for said tardiness, then being swamped with paperwork all day. She had yet to eat or drink anything (except for the other half of the coffee she didn’t spill on herself) and she. was. EXHAUSTED. All Y/N wanted to do was relax on her couch with her boyfriend Ben, whom she’d been dating coming up on four years in December, and let everything that transpired today slip from her mind as she laid in her man’s arms. That was not to be though, as the minute she turned the lock to enter her 2 bedroom apartment they shared she immediately sensed something was wrong. The scent in the air was different; she knew she hadn’t gotten any new candles or air fresheners lately so that wasn’t it. Perfume, she thought as she started assembling the pieces together, and it’s not mine.
Y/N looked around the apartment. There was no sign of anyone here, no trace of another woman. She relaxed partially, still keeping the thought in the back of her mind, but feeling eased because she didn't see any evidence of an affair in her space. But she didn’t need to see it to confirm it, she heard it. A moan. Coming from the bedroom.
“Fuck Ben, I’m so close.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, the blood in her veins had turned ice cold. No, there was no way, right? Ben wouldn’t throw away three years of our relationship like this. He’d never do that to her, he loved her. Right? This had to be a dream, right?
Her feet moved before her mind understood what was happening. Y/N was walking on autopilot, directly to the room where she heard the female voice come from. She knew she didn’t need to see it, she had heard enough to confirm her suspicions already. But before she knew it she was standing in front of her bedroom door, and sure enough she was hearing everything she needed to let her know that this wasn’t a dream. Echoing noises of skin slapping, faint moans and groans, and whimpering rang through Y/N’s ear’s, but that didn’t stop her from twisting the knob on the door and silently cracking it open. She saw the unthinkable; Ben, her long-time boyfriend, had a random woman bent over the bed, their bed, and was fucking her in ways that were meant for Y/N and Y/N only. And the sight of it made her want to throw up.
Y/N couldn’t remember when she left the entryway to her bedroom. She couldn’t remember running out of the apartment and into her car. Hell, she couldn’t even remember sitting in standstill traffic on I-285. But she did do all of those things, because here she sat parked in front of her best friend Josh’s house.
Josh, who she met years ago at a networking event in collaboration with her company and the WWE, was her go-to person. After that event, they quickly became the best of friends. They’d spend every chance they could together when he wasn’t on the road wrestling for hundreds of thousands of people, much to the disapproval of Ben. Ben never liked how much time Y/N wanted to spend with Josh when he was home, and he sure as hell hated how close the two were. Ben had started many fights with Y/N about Josh over the years and each time she assured him that there was never anything happening between the two; she had always shown Ben she was loyal to him and him only. And look how that turned out.
Before she knew it she was on Josh’s doorstep, the fall air in Atlanta feeling colder than usual to her, as she pressed the button on the Ring doorbell. It felt like hours of her standing there but only a couple minutes later and Josh was answering the door. He was shirtless, with basketball shorts loosely hanging around his waist. His hair was wet, like he had just freshly showered, and he smelled richly of his body wash and aftershave.
“Hey mamas, why didn’t you ca-,” he stopped mid-sentence. Josh knew the woman standing before him for 6 years, he knew everything about her. He knew when she was happy, when she was sad, when she was angry. And he definitely knew something was wrong now. But before he could ask further, she broke down in front of him.
“Ben, he.. I..” Y/N couldn’t even form the words to say it out loud, sniffling and letting out sobs trying to tell him what had happened, but Josh quickly figured it out and ushered her to the couch in his living room. He left her for a moment to grab her a water from the fridge, but immediately came back and sat next to her while she tried to describe the events that just unfolded.
“I saw it,” she cried, “at first I thought-, at first I thought that m-maybe I was just h-hearing things. B-but he was f-fucking someone else. I-in our b-bed.” Josh opened his arms to her and she nestled her face in the crook of his neck, letting out loud sobs while he listened and embraced her. She doesn’t deserve this, he thought, she doesn’t deserve any of this.
Josh continued consoling Y/N and cooing reassuring words in her ear while she let out sobs against him. Josh had plans tonight to relax and unwind during one of the rare longer periods of time he had off, but now? Y/N was his number 1 priority and he was going to be here all night if he had to, just to make sure she was okay. Josh’s heart shattered hearing her cry over a man who 1. he never cared much for to begin with, and 2. had broken his best friend’s heart. Josh wasn’t blind to the clear disdain Ben had shown him over the years, but he knew why he hated him so much. Ben saw what Y/N didn’t, that Josh was madly in love with her. Ben was afraid that Josh would try to take Y/N away from him, and if Ben hadn’t been in the picture he might’ve. But none of that mattered now; what mattered was being the person, the friend that Y/N desperately needed to be there for her.
Lost in his own thoughts, Josh didn’t notice that Y/N had stopped crying and was lifting her head from the crook of his neck. She sniffled, and wiped her cheeks from the tears that coated them.
“Thank you, J. For letting me sabotage your evening and being here for me. I needed that.”
“Baby, you didn’t sabotage nothin’. I had no plans tonight. You know I’ll always be here for you. Always.” That pet name always makes her stomach do somersaults, but after the events of this evening she wasn’t able to react with a blush or a soft smile like she usually does.
“I just don’t understand why,” she vented, “why would he throw away our entire relationship like that? Like, did I do something wrong? Was it me? Was I not good enough for him?” “Y/N-”
“No, Josh, I don’t wanna hear any of that ‘you’re too good for him’ and ‘it’s his fault’ bullshit right now. Three years, Josh, three whole years I was with him, and he decides to fuck some random bitch in our bed all of a sudden? It had to have been me, there’s no way he-”
Her sentence was cut short by the feeling of Josh’s lips on hers. Maybe it was her emotions guiding her, but Y/N instinctively moved her lips in sync with his. Something about the way Josh’s lips felt against her own felt natural, normal even. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, they were friends after all and friends don’t kiss each other like this, but she couldn’t will herself to pull away. What felt like hours of the two sharing this intimate moment together lasted mere minutes, as Josh pulled away quickly realizing what he had just done.
“Y/N, I-i’m so sorry… I wasn’t thinking right, I- I shouldn’t have done that. But hearing you talk down on yourself like that just… I couldn’t take it. You’re just so incredible and I-” It was his turn to be cut off now, by Y/N giving him a swift kiss to stop his train of thought. Y/N’s lips hovered over his for a brief moment, daring Josh to close the distance between the two again. She watched his face show how much he was trying to control himself and giggled for the first time that night, her cheeks once rosy from her tears now turning color over the two’s moment they shared, and finally spoke up.
“Don’t be sorry, J. If I'm being honest I kinda enjoyed it, and if I’m being more honest…” She leaned impossibly closer to him now, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “I wanna do it again.” That was all Josh needed to hear for him to crash his lips into hers, this time more desperate than before. He craved her, he needed her, and he wanted her to feel it too. His tongue brushed her bottom lip begging for entrance, causing her to smile into the kiss and denying him access. He was not going to let her tease him like this though, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug. The slight pain and mix of pleasure earned a gasp from Y/N, giving Josh an opportunity for him to slide his tongue inside as they battled for dominance. He used this distraction to pull her into his lap, Y/N now straddling his waist, as they continued to explore each other's mouths and bodies. Y/N’s hands were tugging on the ends of his mullet, earning low groans from him while his hand traveled from her waist to her ass and kneading it with his hands as she began to grind into him at a torturous pace. Josh was getting rapidly hard underneath her, and he could feel through the thin material of her dress pants rubbing on him that she was getting turned on as well. Sensing that they were enveloped in the heat of the moment Joshua pulled away, his hands still resting firmly on her ass while hers were still entangled in his hair. “Are you sure about this, Y/N? Because if we do this…”
“What, there’s no going back? We’re past that point now. I want this, I want you, I need you. Please, Josh, I want you to touch me.”
Josh sat up almost too fast, earning a gasp from Y/N and making her giggle into his neck as he lifted the two of them up and carried her to his bedroom. He gently laid her on his bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her softly before trailing his lips down her jaw and to her neck. He licked and sucked on the sensitive skin before finding the spot just below her right ear, where her soft moans she had before began growing louder. He had found her sweet spot, and he was going to make sure he marked it as his. Josh alternated between sucking and biting on the sensitive area until a bruise began forming at the surface. Admiring his work he nipped at Y/N’s ear and began whispering sweet nothings to her. Josh’s words and the feeling of his breath on her neck sent chills down her spine, and even more, her core to grow wetter by the second. She inadvertently bucked her hips at this, causing her to brush his hardening cock through his shorts.
“Relax mamas, Imma take good care of you,” he hissed, “just wanna admire you first.” Y/N lets out a breathy moan at this, while trying to fight every urge within her to not flip them over and take him right now. Sensing how needy she is for him Josh removes her shirt and unclasps her bra, leaving him in awe of the topless woman before him. Y/N, feeling his intense gaze on her, tries to cover herself with her arms but Josh immediately pins them above her head. “Never ever cover yourself in front of me, you understand baby? You’re too beautiful to hide yourself like that.” Y/N tries to nod in response but is immediately stopped by Josh wrapping his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting on it as Y/N throws her head back and tangles her fingers in his hair yet again. He alternates between each one, giving the same amount of attention to both and making Y/N’s head spin with pleasure. Josh is taking his time with her, and she is enjoying every second. He then trails kisses down her abdomen and makes his way to where she needs him most, wasting no time in removing her bottoms and coming face to face with Y/N’s pretty pussy glistening before him, because of him. “Oh poor baby, you’re soaked. Who made you this wet, hmm?” Y/N moans in response, and Josh lightly smacks her thigh. “Answer me, baby. Who did this?” Josh teases, knowing damn well he’s the reason why, but wanting it to come straight from Y/N’s mouth. “Y-you did, Josh. Please baby, do someth- oh fuck,” Y/N’s pleas are cut short by Josh licking a stripe through her folds, collecting some of her wetness on his tongue. “Mmm.. you taste so sweet, baby, you wanna try?” Josh trails two fingers along her pussy, gathering more of her juices before reaching them to her. Y/N doesn’t hesitate to wrap her lips around his fingers and suck her juices off of them, moaning around them as she does so. Josh groans as her cheeks hollow around his digits, feeling his cock harden at the imagination of her mouth around him. He focuses on her clit and continues to guide his tongue in ways Y/N has never experienced before, feeling that feeling in her stomach growing stronger with each flick of his tongue. She frees his fingers from her mouth and starts chanting his praises, as if she were worshiping the way he’s eating her pussy. His name falls from her lips like he’s her god, and her reaction to him only fuels him more. He inserts his tongue into her pussy, fucking her with his tongue and driving her wild.
“Josh, please, don’t stop baby- oh fuck,” she whines as he adds a finger with his tongue and speeds up his movements, tongue and finger fucking her at a torturous yet unrelenting pace. Her pussy clenches around him, he knows she’s close, and he’s not stopping until his face is drenched in her cum. With his free hand he takes his thumb and rubs circles into her clit, the sensation causing her to arch her back off of the mattress and her thighs to tighten around his head. Before she can warn him the pressure in her stomach explodes, her vision turns white, and she’s shaking and moaning his name as she cums violently around his tongue. Josh had never seen a sight more beautiful than the way Y/N’s body reacts as she’s completely letting go. He wanted to capture that moment in his mind forever, and he wanted to do it again and again. Y/N slowly regained herself, catching her breath and beginning to relax her muscles while Josh licked every last drop of her up like his life depended on it. She shuddered at this, still sensitive from his work on her. After he was sure he had gotten every single drop of Y/N’s essence cleaned up, he proceeded to remove his shorts exposing his long, hard cock. Y/N admired the man before her in all of his glory, instinctively licking her lips as she attempted to sit up and return the favor. “Not tonight, mamas,” Josh cooed, “Tonight’s all about you. Gonna show you how much I love you, baby.” With this his lips found hers, but this time it was different. Something had changed between the two. This was no longer desperation, it was passion. Love. Josh used this moment of kissing her to tease her with his cock, rubbing himself along her pussy, before stopping at her entrance. They broke the kiss; foreheads touching, breathless, and staring longingly into each other's eyes. “No turning back now, right?” “Never,” Y/N whispered as he eased himself into her. The feeling of him stretching her pussy as he slipped inside, the way her walls fluttered and tightened around him and he pushed himself deeper, was unlike anything Josh or Y/N had ever felt before. It’s like they were made for each other, how he fit so perfectly inside of her was something you could only dream of. A series of moans were sung by them both as Josh’s cock completely bottomed out inside of her. After giving them both a second to adjust, he slowly eased his way in and out. Pulling out enough to leave just the tip inside, then all the way back in. Over, and over, and over, and over. Y/N’s hands traveled to Josh’s back and began digging her nails into skin as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Josh’s face found the crook of her neck and peppered kisses along the skin as he continued to make love to her.
“Fuck Y/N, so tight f’me. Feels so good wrapped around me, baby.” His thrusts picked up tempo, but not too fast. Josh wanted to savor this moment; he wanted to live in this feeling of him stretching her out forever, but he also knew it was taking everything he had to hold in his urge to cum on the spot. But his need for her to cum around him right as he was emptying himself into her motivated him into holding on just a little bit longer. He bucked his hips up into her sharply and Y/N arched her back and moaned his name loudly as her nails dragged down his back. Knowing he had now found her spot, he wasted no time in hitting it with every single thrust. Y/N could barely contain herself- she was a mess underneath him. She couldn't utter anything other than Josh’s name, and hearing it only drew him closer to the edge along with her. “I never want to hear you doubt yourself ever again mamas, you understand me?” He grunted in her ear, “You deserve the world baby, and I’m gonna give it to you. You’re mine now, understand?” “Fuck yes, I’m yours baby. I’m yours. Josh, I-”
“I know, I know, I’m close too princess. Cum with me, I gotchu.”
Y/N lets go more viciously than the last, and the tightening of her pussy as she cums around him is enough to have Josh moaning her name in her ear as he fills her with his cum, still moving his hips as he fucks his seed into her. Y/N is still riding the high of her orgasm, whimpering with every thrust he makes. On his way down from his, he slows his movements inside her and rests his forehead against hers. They’re both dripping in sweat, but none of that matters as they lock eyes and catch their breath. It’s silent, but a comfortable silence.
Josh pulls out of her and Y/N sighs, feeling empty without him inside of her as he lies down next to her and pulls her into his arms and both close their eyes. Whatever fallout happens from the events of today will have to wait until tomorrow, right now all that matters is them. Both realize the gravity of this moment, both know their friendship just changed forever, and both know that there’s no going back now.
And that’s perfectly okay with them.
#jey uso#jey uso smut#jey uso imagine#jey uso fic#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso x you#jey uso x reader#jey uso x y/n#main event jey uso#wwe#wwe fanfiction#wwe fic#wwe imagine#wwe smut
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could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw
✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !
summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth.
He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.
It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.
Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him.
“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.
You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”
Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.
When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.
Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.
Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.
“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”
Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.
You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”
The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness.
“…I’m gonna try.”
He was pretty much a goner after that.
The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.
Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.
And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.
He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.
That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.
The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).
And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.
If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.
But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.
So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.
Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.
Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.
Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.
Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.
Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.
You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”
The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.
He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.
“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”
Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”
“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”
With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.
“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.
He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.
And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.
Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.
Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess.
“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay, Eds—”
“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”
“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.
“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”
Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”
You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”
He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.
He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”
“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”
“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.
It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”
“Eddie!” you scold.
“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”
“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”
“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”
“Yeah… Okay.”
“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod
Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.
“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”
“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”
He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”
“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”
With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step.
You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.
Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.
“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”
You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”
“…Really?”
“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.
“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”
A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.
Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.
You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.
“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”
You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.
“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.
“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”
You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side.
You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.
It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.
Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.
You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace.
You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.
Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.
You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”
“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.
“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”
“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.
You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell.
You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.
But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.
Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.
You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch.
He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe.
You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.
The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?
Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.
Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you.
Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.
His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.
He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.
As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.
“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”
“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”
You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.
But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.
“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.
It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.
“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”
“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”
Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.
The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.
He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.
You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.
“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.
“…What?”
“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”
You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different.
“Better?” you tease.
Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.
You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.
“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.
Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose.
You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.
You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.
“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#st oneshots#eddie spaghetti oneshot
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Hello hello :>
May i req suna, tsukki, yamaguchi, and kenma x f!reader whos kinda chubby
Imagine she likes to bake, and like their school got another girl manager for the volleyball team
And her, matching the fact thats shes chubby plus she likes to bake decides to subtly pick on her so the others dont notice
And also imagine she likes character and she only picks on her cuz shes characters gf
Thank you!! Stay hydrated <3
" BAKER GIRL! "
summary. they stick up for you
characters. tsukishima, yamaguchi, kenma
warnings. f!reader, chubby!reader, bullying
a/n. i didn’t write for suna because i’m not 100% confident that i know his character that well, and i didn’t want to write something ooc and bad :(
TSUKISHIMA
☆ he notices almost immediately that the new manager is picking on you. she’s trying to be subtle, but he’s not stupid. he can see the way your expression falls a bit every time she says something backhanded, and it makes him pissed. you’re such a sweet girl, even to him, and seeing someone purposely make fun of you and belittle you makes him angry. he definitely makes it known that he does not like the new manager, so if she’s feeling any type of way about him, those feelings are soon gone. every time she says something to you, he’s quick to spit an insult back at her in your defense, because he knows you won’t do it yourself.
☆ he’s always the first to try your baked goods, and he’s not one to praise anyone, but he always has kind words for you. especially in front of her. if she says something nasty, he’s countering it and brushing her off.
☆ you two have a private conversation about it, and he reassures you that he thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and that she’s just jealous of you. those words coming from tsukishima is definitely a confidence booster, so you try to just stop talking to her altogether.
YAMAGUCHI
☆ i feel like he’s able to recognize the signs of bullying because he went through the same things when he was younger… and maybe because of tsukishima as well.
☆ he isn’t a fan of anyone talking to you in a nasty way, and he wants to stick up for you because he was grateful when tsukki stuck up for him all those years ago. he wants to be like that for someone else too.
☆ i think he’d be more subtle about it than tsukishima though. maybe not direct insults to her, but definitely would whisper and giggle about her and make it obvious. shit talks behind her back 100%.
☆ he compliments you every day anyway, so there’s no need to feel insecure about some random girl that’s being rude for no reason. though he can’t even fathom how anyone would dislike you. he tries to just take up all your free time during practice so she’s not even able to get a word in.
KENMA
☆ definitely notices pretty quickly. he’s practically always looking at you, he’s got a staring problem. he’s watching you everytime she says something, and he sees the way you frown and grow awkward, trying to laugh off whatever she said. it makes him annoyed, you’re prefect in his eyes. people like that piss him off.
☆ he wouldn’t directly say anything, but he’d drag you off whenever she tries to talk to you. if he’s not able to, he advises you to basically ignore her unless it’s manager stuff about the team.
☆ he'd complain to kuroo about it because he’s captain, and because that’s his best friend. kuroo cares about you nearly as much as kenma, so you can bet that situation is getting handled pretty quickly. the whole team loves you, especially because you always bake sweets for them. it makes things awkward for the girl for a while until she eventually resigns as manager.
#reader insert#x reader#fanfic#fem reader#f!reader#afab reader#tsukishima x you#tsukishima hcs#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima fluff#tsukki headcanons#tsukishima x reader#yamaguchi x reader#yamaguchi x y/n#yamaguchi x you#yamaguchi hcs#kenma hcs#kenma headcanons#kenma x you#kenma x y/n#kenma fluff#kenma x reader#yamaguchi fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu kenma#haikyuu tsukishima#tortasks#taintedtort
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Let’s breakdown this scene…
Lestat, playing piano: bent over, lost in the world of the music - out of this world entirely. Louis sees a broken thing playing a plank of wood. A far cry from the proud, splendid creature he once knew.
(From Interview with the Vampire) "My eyes widened as I studied this stooped and shivering vampire whose rich blonde hair hung down in loose waves covering his face.”
Side note from me, as I love to talk about things that make The Vampire Chronicles appealing to me. Some people seem to be of the view that they wouldn’t desire immortality, only to be these sad, lonely, melancholic creatures… but I have always felt this way myself - even when I was a tiny child, long before I read The Vampire Chronicles. There has always been an innate loneliness and isolation to me deep inside. I don’t think you’d necessarily know it to meet me, mind! I am a smiley person! I like to do childlike, fun things. I try to bring happiness, not gloom to the world.
However, my instinct has always been to retreat into my own, wordless, unbound imagination, and to feel entirely alone, in truth. And still, I am. As a child, I felt more the weight of the world as if I were already 1000 years old. Now, loss of hope that comes with time is both sadder, scarier and, in its way, more freeing.
Anyway - imagine having infinite time and so being able to truly drift out of existence for decades. It’s such an appealing concept to me. I know Lestat is very sad here, but the idea of this kind of true escape… oh how I yearn for it. To let the world crumble around me. To step out of existence for some decades, with the possibility of return, not the reality as it is in mortal life that that is you falling through cracks you’ll never crawl out of ever again…
Lestat names Louis, reflexively when asked who said “hello”. He hasn’t turned to see Louis yet. To Lestat, Louis died 50 years ago. He is a ghost, surely? Lestat’s voice has a flat affect here. He isn’t thinking. He is merely reacting.
When Lestat first looks at Louis, I see fear:
- Does Louis really exist?
- What will Louis do?
- Must Lestat be drawn back into the world here? To acknowledge reality?
(From IWTV) “`I've dreamed of your coming . . . coming. . ' he said.”
Lestat asks Louis if he’d like a rat, as if he were a hallucination still, more than real-Louis. I think Lestat knows Louis is real when he speaks, but he’s still only half in reality himself.
Louis says “I’ve come to see you”, but Lestat is still half in his own constructed world with his music and Argerich… I love how Lestat hugs and caresses his plank-piano, drawing it into himself, as if drawing music in to himself. Me too, Lestat. Me too. I adore how Rolin and all added music to this scene. It isn’t there in the books. Of course it makes a through-line for rock star Lestat, but it is a deep love of Lestat’s and I am SO HAPPY with this addition!
I know a lot of people find “Siri, pause…” funny, but I must be a weird human, as I just find it oddly poignant. Like did people watch and laugh at this moment? This feels like when I go to see a play and people all laugh at something and I don’t laugh, then some other thing I laugh out loud at, but nobody else is laughing. And this is why I can’t do memes or any popular thing. SIGH. ANYWAY!!!
The way Lestat puts the keyboard up on front of himself, like a shield as Louis moves closer, his breathing growing ragged. Lestat genuinely scared… as though Louis’ mere presence might obliterate him if he gets too close. And of course, he does not know why Louis is there. Is he there to kill him? Does it matter if he is? He should kill him. He could too, right now. The emotional support piano becomes a protective plank.
But what Lestat is not expecting is Louis’ kindness, care, worry and empathy.
“Did you save my life in Paris?”
And now we get the first glimmer of the old Lestat as Lestat lifts his chin, shakes his head, tries to be nonchalant and to muster up his old pride, maintain any pride he still possesses. He immediately dismisses Louis’ niceness with a self-criticism as he truly perceives that he put Louis in danger by not protecting him from Armand. Responsibility in Nicolas’ death, and, he thinks, in Louis’.
Lestat is defensive. His unspoken mantra, “Don’t see me. Don’t see the real me, Louis. I cannot take it. Not right now.” Lestat is almost begging Louis to tell him he hates him, as he’s imagined Louis’ hate all these years… I fear halluci-Louis may not have been the kind, loving vision for Lestat that DreamStat was for Louis…?
A side note again: Lestat’s “All hail me” gave me a full-on spontaneous existential crisis. Folks, does Lestat say “All hail me” in the books? I hope not! Because for as long as I remember, in appropriate circumstances, I say “All hail me” and obviously it’s a turn of phrase, but I had a sudden heart stopping moment where, with a chill, I thought *Did I get that from Lestat?!* Am I entirely even my self at all?! Am I merely a manifestation of all the art I have ever consumed? Am… I… Armand!?!?!??!! Oh MY! I don’t think Lestat says this in the books though, right? Right!?!?
Well, Lestat puts his piano-plank down, terrified Louis might show him love. Craving it. Fearing it.
“Been enduring here?” Lestat is truly proud now. He will not admit his pain. As if not speaking it could make it invisible when it’s plain all about - from within him and without. It is *very* Lestat when questioned on the pain in his soul or shown that it has been seen to be like “I am FINE” & to think that’s how he comes across to others, when really of COURSE they see how broken he is. And then he bemoans that nobody will let him be broken, when he himself struggles to be broken other than when alone or on the page.
“I didn’t know it was a gift.” - Lestat is still wary. Still expecting hate from Louis here… unable yet to fully accept and understand…
Then Louis begins to say the only things Lestat has ever wanted to hear and know from Louis - thanking Lestat for the gift of vampiric immortality, showing he understands the beauty of it and intends to value that and use it… & Lestat is done for; broken open from here. He still, for a moment tries to fight back with “Shall we list all the ways we have wronged each other…” etc. But really, Lestat can now no longer maintain ay facade. Louis has opened him up.
And now we are open to Lestat’s thoughts for the last half-century. Armand erases Louis’ suicide attempt from his mind, but it is the first thing Lestat asks about. In his mind he has replayed for 5 decades how Louis is dead and it is his fault.
Sam and Jacob are so brilliant and beautiful as they open to each other in this scene. Claudia. Grief. Pain. Then, love. Broken-Lestat is particularly too much - holding on to responsibility over Claudia’s fate and how she looked at him at the end and he did nothing… and Louis, trying to take away and share the burden. Louis - so empathetic… and as they move through grief to love, words fall away (or become too personal to matter) and the storm outside echoes the storm of their hearts and their love.
(From IWTV) ““…And as I looked down at him, as I saw his yellow hair pressed against my coat, I had a vision of him from long ago, that tall, stately gentleman in the swirling black cape, with his head thrown back, his rich, flawless voice singing the lilting air of the opera from which we'd only just come, his walking stick tapping the cobblestones in time with the music, his large, sparkling eye catching the young woman who stood by, enrapt, so that a smile spread over his face as the song died on his lips; and for one moment, that one moment when his eye met hers, all evil seemed obliterated in that flush of pleasure, that passion for merely being alive.
" Was this the price of that involvement? A sensibility shocked by change, shrivelling from fear? I thought quietly of all the things I might say to him, how I might remind him that he was immortal, that nothing condemned him to this retreat save himself, and that he was surrounded with the unmistakable signs of inevitable death. But I did not say these things, and I knew that I would not.
" It seemed the silence of the room rushed back around us, like a dark sea…””
Bonus: misprint in my TVL copy!
(From TVL) “Louis had come finally to this very place and seen me through the windows. I tried to imagine it. Louis alive. Louis here, so close, and I had not even know it. I think I laughed a little. I couldn’t keep it clear in my mind that Louis wasn’t burnt up. But it was really wonderful that Louis still lived. It was wonderful that there existed still that handsome face, that poignant expression, that tender and faintly imploring voice. My beautiful Louis surviving, instead of dead and gone with Claudia and Nick.
But then maybe he was dead. Why should I believe Armand?”
#interview with the vampire#anne rice#amc interview with the vampire#lestat de lioncourt#the vampire lestat#amc iwtv#iwtv amc#iwtv lestat#iwtv louis#louis de pointe du lac#iwtv loustat#loustat#sam reid lestat#samstat#sam reid#jacob anderson louis#jacob anderson#nola#iwtv s2e8
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