#I swear I drug my feet so hard on this one because it just looked off without it

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

It’s been like 9 million years but I finally finished this piece from our session zero like…half a year ago.

Anyways. Them 💕 I’m obsessed

[rafechubbygf]

rafe cameron x plus size!baddie!chubby!reader

you were the baddie one, but surely, the revenge one. you were the most praised kook ever, because of your daddy’s money. nobody made the most unforgettable, dirtiest, and craziest parties, weirdest as project x ones than you. at first, you were mocked and humiliated, always the center of attention but not for the right reasons and now, you were putting the bullies at your own feet, and you were surely making them hard in your expensive clothes that exposed your curves. some kooks denied the attraction they had for you, others only lived for that.

one day, you were sunbathing on your pool chair, an iced cocktail in your hands, sunglasses on your eyes, luxury hat on your head with a pretty black elbow, the life of a girl who was rich and who had the possibility to use her time as she wanted. you thought you were alone, you wanted to be alone, but someone had burst in front of you.

you knew this face. who didn't know him? it was rafe cameron. the one and only son of ward cameron. one of your father's very close friends.

without shame, he stared at your nice huge boobs which overflowed from your tiny bikini, looking down at your chubby belly. there was no disgust in his eyes. you could even tell he loved it, because he discreetly bit his bottom lip.

“ do you want me to help you daydream about my tits by taking off my top? “

“ so confident about your body. “

“ yes, i love making boys shy. “

he cleared his throat, looking up without being embarrassed.

“ i can bet you’ve never seen one this big.”

“ because you're so aware about my sex routine, yea ? “

“ i know, i'm right. anyway, tell me why are you here, country boy ?”

“ i want to sell drugs at your parties by now. you have all kooks in your house, let me help you make bigger parties. it's a win for the two of us.”

“ i don't need an acolyte. but thanks, sweet proposal, cameron.“

“ but you need a big man. “

you took off your sunglasses.

"you're wrong if you think i need a man. boys like you always humiliated me, thinking i wasn't pretty enough to be respected. so why would i do that for you? what if i say no, rafe ?”

“ absolutly nothing, sweetheart because i will take this for a yes. “

“ do you think i'm scared of you, do you think i can't stand up against you ? “

“ such a big girl, it's supposed to impress me ? do better and harder, you want to show off ? then, perform. “

you rolled your eyes, annoyed by his attitude, while crossing your arms, pressing them against your boobs.

“ also, you're wrong. “

“ about what ? “

“ i like chubby girls. “

“ you're not good at making jokes, rafe cameron. and you just love the curvy sexy side. not the overweight one. “

“ again, you're fucking wrong. “

his look had changed, and his voice tone had become firmer. he was serious. you were starting to doubt.

you always saw boys looking at other girls that you also found pretty, but the way men looked at you made you feel terribly self-conscious before. now you felt better in your body.

“bunny, i can swear i love that plump belly and those fat thighs, and i can go to hell for them.”

“ bunny ? “

“ yes, and trust me, i will make you bounce like them, sweetheart. “

“ what do you mean ? you’re not disgusted by my body?”

“the way your body turns me on, you have no idea, i’m so hard right now. be confident, because my cock is really going to fuck you like you are the most beautiful girl on this earth.”

and then, rafe fucking cameron kneeled at your feet, his hands on your waist, pressing with his fingers your tubby curvy waist, while he kissed your chubby tummy, putting soft kissies on your skin. you can felt the tenderness and warmth covering your pretty belly.

" don't try to fool me, country boy. don't be gentle, when you want nothing that being rough and make me cry.”

“i think your pussy is already crying” he had looking at your dripping fanny and pressed his nose into the fold.

with his fingers, he traced the shape of your fat cunt, pressing on both swollen parts, his thumb against your clit.

“ you're so hot. “

“ and you're so damn hard. “

he pulled your string bikini down to your feet, and you lay down on the pool chair.

"open those legs wide. bunny. i said wider. “

you pushed them aside, revealing your wet pussy. he slipped between your legs, pinning them under his biceps.

“ do you think you can make me cum ? “

“ i will do better than that. what about multiple orgasms, needy girl ? “

he spat on his fingers, before starting to fingering you. you could tell he was good, and it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. his movements were fast, all of your wetness stuck to his fingers as he moved hard into your walls, stretching them. he made your chubby legs tremble on his arms, and your cries became more and more desperate.

"acting like a big girl and now crying like a child, such a pathetic slut."

you didn't respond, your eyes rolling all over the place, while you felt your hole open and clench on his fingers.

he was amused by your noises.

"having fun? you wanted to cry so much? keep dropping those tears, ruin your own dollface, crybaby.”

you were so turned on, your hole was dilated, completely open and his tongue had started to play with your clit, a trickle of saliva slipping to his glistening lips from your arousal fluids at your little button. he had licked it, sucking the pearl harder.

your walls were wrapped around his fingers, the sound steamy and hot of him thrusting inside. you were just a whining mess.

"rafe!...rafe...more!" you cried out.

he moved his digits in and out, you could see his lustrous tongue tucked in your clit, his nose against your pubic. his fingers went deep, covered by your wetness. he had speeded, and started to wreck your count with his big fingers.

“ save your tears, chubby bun, it's the beginning. you think my fingers are big ? fear better of my cock. “

he took off his shorts, tossing it to the side. he was painfully hard. your slobbering lips opened,

he had kissed you, crushing his muscular body against your larger one. you could feel his abs against your belly.

he was an aggressive kisser, kissing your lips violently, possessively.

“ don't kiss me like we are something. “

“ then don't get your pussy soaked like you wanted this more than me. enough talking. “

he made you close your mouth with his tongue, his saliva sliding into yours. you wanted it and you couldn’t deny it anymore. and he understood that.

he had positioned himself between your legs, pressing your thighs against his waist before pushing his cock into your pussy. he gave the first hard thrust, letting out a grunt as he felt how tight and wet you were. you could feel him inside you. his cock was hard to take, but you wanted to make him proud.

your mouth curved into a perfect circle-form, drool falling from your swollen lips. he had started to fuck you deeply, you could feel his hips slapping against your ass, his big balls hitting your thick body. they were full.

you were beautiful, a goddamn plus size hottie kook girl. and you made his heavy fat dick getting monstruous inside you, everytime his tip bumped into your spot. the way your ass jiggles as his deep thrusting, the way all your curves swing harder.

your vision was blurry, because he was fucking you too good. he was sweating. as he filled you, pushing his cock loudly and pounding into your inners so hard that you always ended up letting out a desperate cry. he also touched your curves, tracing their shapes with his fingers, emphasizing how perfect he found them. he also said that from now on, it was his.

"this body belongs to me. and you should really be careful not to forget it, you don't want this to end badly right, bunny?”

your pussy gripped him tighter and tighter, while you held your tits in your hands.

you turned your head quickly to say no. you didn’t want this to end badly but he had grabbed your jaw, gripping it tightly in his hand, forcing your mouth to open and curve, a trickle of saliva slipping from your lip.

“i want a clear answer. i want to hear yes.”

the pleasure was intense, your sensations amplified, the desire became more and more terrible.

your slopping pussy was leaking, and hungry. you could feel every inch of his hard cock, especially when he pushed all the way in.

“ i want to cum…let me cum ! “

“ beg for it and i will see. “

he wanted to continue his thrusts in your pussy. he loved seeing you cry. his sweat ran down his face, a drop glistening on the tip of his nose. his hair was messy, and stuck to his forehead.

“ please…! please…! i'm begging you ! i really need to cum…daddy ?” you tried.

and he had exploded in your walls at the mention of "daddy", making your squirts around his fat dick. your cunt was creamy, mixed with his cum dripping from your slit.

“ what was that ? “

“ what…” you played dumb. “ you mean the daddy thing ? “

“ call me that again and i make your pretty chubby tummy bigger by putting babies inside. “

“ i think you want a next round. “

“ you're right. time to make you pregnant.”

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐒𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | There comes a period where most relationships fall stale, yet Eddie never thought it'd happen to him and you, in fact, maybe even worse. With an intimate date planned in the comfort of your home, Eddie hopes to coax whatever thoughts are troubling your mind.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, yelling, brief mention of drugs, mentions of financial insecurities, pregnancy, and discussions about abortions; open ended decision about the pregnancy, don't be alarmed, baby wanters/deniers :)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This is, of course, my participation to @carolmunson's The Boy is Mine writing exercise! Rules can be found here, and you can check out everyone else's interpretation of my boyfriend here! I wasn't aware of any deadlines, so I sincerely apologize if this is coming too late, I just really wanted to be included, lol! <3

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.9K

Like clockwork, the small pebbles of the man-made driveway had clung to the soles of your shoes. 

There had been nothing innately special about the four concrete steps it took to reach home, but today—much like the last few—had you yearning for the time in which the four concrete steps it took to reach home actually filled you with contentment. 

Happiness. 

Though now, nothing but dread resides within you, as your steps stomp out the once embedded pebbles to clack against the concrete stairs. Because now, a simple look to his face would tighten your chest with the burdens of guilt, as your newfound routine of rejecting his loving advances had suddenly taken over the once usual intimate greeting of a kiss hello. But as complicated as the situation had been, the explanation was actually the most simple: you’d just ruined Eddie Munson’s life.

But that’s quite the funny thing about communication. It breeds an eternal misery far worse than hope ever could, when chosen to be ignored for the sake of a peaceful calm. Because that’s all you were grasping for. Clammy fingers aching to hold onto the last snapping threads of tranquility if it meant keeping the peaceful life you both worked so hard to achieve. But the battle of the tumultuous anxiety you were fighting off to hold onto those threads was ultimately transpiring for the worst.

Because in return, Eddie Munson was beginning to fear the worst: he’d finally become nothing to you. 

Which is why, in a desperate attempt to rekindle the spark he still very much felt on his end, you would walk into the cozy trailer to find your eyes lit with the warmth of technicolor shadows, all casted from the benignity of yellow lamps illuminating soft duvets and sheets of creamy pastels and fuzzy neutrals. A childhood’s finest: a blanket fort. Strung along the comfy fortification had been dozens of twinkling Christmas lights that cascaded warm glowing hues against the cramped four walls of your home. 

A wonderland of innocence. 

With the loose hinges of the door announcing your arrival, Eddie has scampered out of the delicate fort of blankets, and peaked through his frizzy bangs, until his round eyes landed against yours. With a stool there, that one chair there, a tight tuck into the couch cushion, and a broomstick that played into the laws of physics to surprisingly stand on its own, the mastery of the ultimate blanket fort consumed your living room. All curated from the hands of Eddie Munson. Just for you. 

“H-Hey,” his stiff bones popped with the movement of his body, as he stood before you. “I, uh, can I just-”

Eddie’s hands worked to pry off the purse that slung itself over your shoulder, with your jacket to follow, before he crouched to the height of your feet to free you of the confinements of uncomfortable shoes. 

“What’s all this?” Tired from a slaving eight hour shift, your voice had only but a couple of octaves to work with. 

You watched his throat bob with a nervousness he never had with you before. Until you scared him. “I wanted to do something for you.” See, I still love you. “Y’know, f-for us. Just for us.” Don’t you? Your heart sank at the underlying worry that was tainting his sweet face. Because of you. Because you were ruining him right before your eyes. “H-Henderson came over and helped me out a bit, stopped by the Byers, too. Stole these off of ‘em,” his hands wavered to the strings of Christmas lights that glowed the dark walls into a fairytale setting, “can you believe they got, like, a shit load of ‘em?” He huffed out a laugh, in hopes of being some source of amusement for you, like he once was.

But with your guilt silently afflicting you, you found little reason to smile, which misinterpreted itself to the cementation that you were, in fact, sick of Eddie Munson. Long gone was the look of love that once beautifully invaded your eyes when you stared at him. 

“You didn’t-” Your voice got caught in your throat, not wanting to ask the question that would proffer the conversation you most dreaded. But it was Eddie. Your Eddie. With a soul like his, he deserved the honesty of your burdens. “Why did you do this?” You quietly asked. 

Humorlessly, the softest chuckle of disbelief scoffed from his nose, as his brows raised at you. Yeah, you, too, knew it was a stupid question. “I- you- something’s wrong.” His eyes pleaded for you to understand. 

Your eyes shamefully peered down at his bare feet, as your head shuffled in the smallest nod you could give. “I- um, yeah. C-Can you invite me in?” You gestured to the blanket flap that acted as a doorway to the fort. 

“Of course.”

Despite being a moment of financial insecurity, where Eddie couldn’t lavish you with dinner at Enzo’s to hash out the sudden shift in your relationship, perhaps the sentimental idea of a blanket fort was found to be quite perfect under the guise of appeasing the apprehensive worry from both parties. Because as two adults crawled on their hands and knees to enter the constructed tent of blankets and sheets, Eddie swore he heard the soft jubilance of giggles gently escape from your mouth; a sound he tortuously hadn’t heard in days. 

Your face glowed under the vibrant hues of string lights, as your hands and knees sunk into the soft cushion of blankets that displayed themselves against the carpeted floor of the living room, where the second-hand thrifted couch pillows propped themselves for your comfort to lean against. Unplugged from its usual habitat of the living room television stand—thoroughly just a small end table, secured from a flea market—Eddie had placed the small box TV within your newfound fort; a tranquil excuse of a buffer, in case the necessary conversation turned sour, and something was needed as a break to mitigate the tense discussion. 

Eddie would always allow you your Golden Girls. It always was quite the destresser for you. So, he’d risk the higher-than-usual light bill and the potential fire hazard it was to run an extension cord to, not only plug in the TV, but provide you the serenity of colorful lights, if it eased you to just finally talk to him. 

“It worked.” You turned your head to his lilted voice, as you awkwardly stationed yourself criss-crossed on the floor. “You’re smiling.”

It felt quite awful how relieved he’d become with the barely-there smile you’d succumb to. You wished he hadn’t found such joy in something so small, because it only led you to believe you’d given him so little lately, that he was only forced to lavish in the bare minimum. 

If only your mind hadn’t manipulated his happiness to be rooted in such cynicism. Because, yes, Eddie Munson did find such joy in the simpleness of your small smile. But Eddie had profoundly loved you enough to find appreciation in the most miniscule details of your beauty. 

Because what you hadn’t seen was that your barely-there smile had bloomed the suppleness of your cheeks to glow with the joy your mind so badly suppressed from you, as your eyes twinkled with the liveliness of your soul.

To you, it really may have just been a barely-there smile.

But your barely-there smile had been utter perfection in the eyes of Eddie Munson. 

“T-This is really nice, Eddie.” You sincerely spoke, as he found himself a cramped spot in front of you, lanky legs struggling to mimic yours. “Thank you.”

“You don’t gotta thank me.” He softly smiled back. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something nice for you.” Eddie Munson always did nice things for you. You don’t know where his admission came from. Yes, bills took over fancy outings, but wildflowers were picked in a bouquet of appreciation for you, home cooked dinners were attentively attempted to be served for you (he was slowly getting better by the days), and sentimental songs were delicately strung on his guitar to the lyrics dedicated for you. Yeah, Eddie Munson always did nice things for you. “I’m really sorry about that.” But his cynicism couldn’t help but match yours, where his mind believed that his love had to be showcased where it hurt his wallet the most. 

“Don’t say that. Don’t be sorry, please.” Your hands interlaced with his, as guilt ate at you. “Please, don’t- I- you’ve done nothing wrong.” Your mouth spewed in damage control. “Really, Eddie-”

“No?” His brows cinched in desperation for answers.

“N-No,” You stuttered under his scrutiny, as your hands brushed away from his to shield your eyes from the frustration that fermented in you. “It really isn’t- you didn’t do anyth-”

“Then what the hell is going on?” He pleaded. Eddie didn’t want to yell, never to face like yours, but the agony of being left in the dark was driving him to the precipice of exasperated resentment that he adamantly never wanted to feel towards you. Your mind raced about how you’d explain the turmoil you were in. His urgency had been lackluster in terms of support to your heaving chest, but you couldn’t blame him. He, too, was beginning to feel the crashing end of your relationship. He was frightened. “B-Because you’re never like this- never mean! And you-you’re not talking to me, n-not touching me, not even wanting me near you! I-I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you when you say it’s not me, because it clearly is!” 

You could see the stinging tears torment his sweet eyes. It choked your throat, nearly having you projectile your breakfast in disgust with yourself. “N-No, it’s not-”

Rude, perhaps, but Eddie's endeavor to cut you off had been quite useful in derailing your rambles that typically ran in circles for the sake of avoidance. He knew you. “Then just tell me! O-Or, give me, I don’t know, some idea of what’s going on, b-because this isn’t okay-”

“I know-”

A single tear seared his cheek. “So, if you don’t want to be with me, just say that! I’ll change!” You broke. Sobs wailed from your mouth, as your head sunk into the comfort of your hands. Eddie’s jaw had fallen slack in panic, as he never once saw you cry—let alone was the reason—with such anguish that it stabbed him with such profoundness. His hands worked without hesitation to bring your shuddering body close to his. “No, no! I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Secured in his lap, Eddie’s neck became dampened with the hot stream of tears that were coaxing out of your. “Sh, sh. Don’t cry, please, don’t, I’m so, so sor-”

“I’m pregnant.”

Where he once caressed your back in soothing rubs, he now stopped at the sudden revelation, as your eyes screwed shut with fear. He felt you tense, in fact, you both did. Stood still, you held your breath, feeling the bob of his throat, as you anticipated the next words that would come out of his mouth. 

You severely underestimated the duration of fifteen seconds. 

Because every second of silence felt like torture to your heart, and Eddie was agonizing you with his quietness. Your heartbeat was bleeding into your ears, body flamming hot with intense feelings, as you tried to find comfort in his hard body, but his arms weren’t holding you in the manner you needed most. 

You pulled back. “God, Eddie, just say something!” Your wails had managed to snap something within him. 

His eyes blinked straight, mouth moving to speak the words he had difficulty finding. Eddie’s hands instinctively found your back once more, loving on you properly, as your body was finally able to melt into his. He cradled your head, attempting the slight movements of rocking back-and-forth to soothe your sobs. “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything that’s happening!”

“No, no, no, no. I-It’s gonna be okay, alright? It’s not your fault- holy shit…” Eddie whispered into your hair. 

“A-And I-I don't know how it h-happened,” your anguished face pulled from his chest, as you sniffed the snot that congested your nose, while Eddie made quick work to smear off your hot tears. “I-I didn’t know how t-to tell you, I got so scared, I am scared!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

You coughed out the weeps that burrowed in your throat. “I didn’t want this to happen!” You choked. “I- we were safe, I-I don’t know what happened! I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t want to stress you out-”

“No, baby, no.” His face fell in torment of seeing you in such despair. 

“I just- I didn’t know how to tell you, Eddie.” You cried. “I know you don’t want t-this, and I panicked, because I don’t want you m-mad or-”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not mad at you.” His hand firmly cupped your burning cheeks, as his head confirmed his words with a fervent shake against your thoughts. “I- how could I be? I did this, too. I’m right here with you.”

“We-we just have a lot going on, I don't know what we’re going to do! A-And I just don’t even want to think about it!” Your body wracked with your spilling tears. 

“We- no, baby, we have options, y’know? If we’re not ready, we don’t have to do this. There’s, um, there’s adoption, right? Someone- we could help someone.” You shook your head adversely to his advice, as your words were true: you didn’t want to think about it. “O-Or, they- we can, y’know, get rid of it.” For lack of a better term. Your eyes sealed shut, head gnawing with pain. “You can totally do that, it’s okay, we don’t have to tell anybody if you don’t want to, just between us, and-”

Despite his best efforts, his words were doing little to soothe you over, as—though it was the necessary discussion—you weren’t looking for next-step solutions to your problem. “Eddie.” You quietly pleaded. 

“No, I’m serious. Don’t feel bad if you don’t want it. Or, maybe you do, a-and that’s okay, too. I’ll help, I’ll do everything. We can… c’mon, sweetheart, you know I wouldn’t leave you alone with this baby if you really wanted it-”

“Stop, Eddie! Please, stop!” You cried. “I don’t want to hear that, don’t want to think about it!” Your vision blurred away his pretty face. “I-I can’t right now! It’s all I-I’ve been thinking about for the past days, I’m t-tired, and just wanna-”

“Okay, so just cry.” His arms had tightened around you before you could process his movements. “Just let it all out.” Eddie had laid you down against the cushioned floor, letting your head fall back against the crocheted throw pillow threaded by his late grandmother, with its couple of loose strands of yarn soaking up your tears. 

Eddie Munson, as always, had laid with you, yet he never felt how utterly desperate you were in needing him than he did right now. You endured the humid heat of your cries in the crook of his neck, if it meant embedding yourself into his body. 

Just to feel him. 

With how much you deprived yourself from his touch, it felt dire to suffocate in the familiarity of his smell to drown in contentment. 

You grappled onto any piece of skin he had to offer through his faded t-shirt, as you frightfully clung to him. Your tears bled through the fabric of his clothes, as he gave you nothing but the safe embrace of his being that managed to make you break down in his arms. 

It was everything you needed. 

-

It was 7:03 P.M. Your sobs had knocked you into a deep sleep, where your mind was finally at ease from the troubles that tormented you. 

And Eddie Munson hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for exactly seventy-two minutes. 

You looked so peaceful, despite the rawness that rimmed your eye sockets. For once, the fresh air was able to seep into your nose, and fan out through the small opening of your mouth. Your face had cemented itself into Eddie’s chest, and from every chance he took to make slight movements for his comfort, it seemed your subconscious wasn’t ever planning on letting you leave his touch. So, despite the unfortunate circumstance, his mind was able to come to the realization that you did, in fact, still love him. 

Because you desperately were in love with Eddie Munson. Things had just gotten scary.

It was getting late. Dinner should have been happening now, and given how long Eddie took to dice an onion, he knew dinner would take nearly an hour and a half to make—it was blanket fort date night, for crying out loud, he couldn’t do the usual spaghetti. It had to be gourmet. Like, lasagna. 

Yeah, spaghetti’s older cousin, that’s totally gourmet! But now, wait a minute, how does one exactly make la-

You suddenly shifted, and Eddie quieted his thoughts, despite them never even being spoken aloud. If he knew anything about you, it was your ardent stance on never eating dinner without television. And with episode twenty-three of season four of your four favorite ladies airing at 9:00 P.M, it seemed your subconscious knew, too, to wake you up for the occasion. 

You freak. 

Through the soft murmurs of your waking, Eddie could hear the rumble of your tummy. You had been in a rush this morning, but even then, you promised him to never again consider a vending machine’s pack of peanut M&Ms lunch. Clearly, you did today. Liar. 

Because of his quick movements to get up, his aimed forehead kiss misdirected to your eyeball, forcing it to flutter open much earlier than you wanted. You groaned at his departure, watching him quickly crawl away through your bleary vision.

Despite your head feeling like thirty pounds of cement, and the suffocating heat the blanket fort was harboring, the commotion that occurred just outside within the kitchen interested you enough to slowly sit up against your sore back’s protest. 

After a minute of his bare feet pattering against the linoleum, Eddie’s head emerged into the blanket fort. “Here, grab this.” His arm extended out the overly large latched-lid mason jar—once occupied by honey, before it inevitably ran out a year ago—filled to the brim with iced water, and garnished with the two recycled straws from a once Benny’s Burgers milkshake. Your little face scrunched with tired confusion. “I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” 

Ran out? Eddie just didn’t want to do the dishes. You huffed out a chuckle, “Yeah.” Your hands grappled to hold onto the cold jar, its condensation drenching your fingers. 

“And I- ugh.” He grunted, as his large body entered the tiny space. “Got some, uh, other things.” His prized notebook flew in with intentions of being used later. Perhaps for the excuse of giving him something to do, while you watched The Golden Girls. He wasn’t fooling anyone, though, he always eventually succumbed to the TV show, despite how cool he wanted to look.

“Why do you have that?” You tiredly giggled, as he settled in with a tub of vanilla frosting—Wayne’s fifty-second occurred three weeks ago, of course, you both had to make a cake… even if the older man grimaced with a faux mm to, at least, satisfy your efforts—and two spoons. The small ones, Eddie was quite aware of your love for tiny utensils. 

“Well, I, uh, I know it’s no better than those M&Ms you ate for lunch.” Caught. Your lips flattened into a straight line. “Yeah, caught your ass,” he laughed, “but I’ll give you a pass, since I put a baby in you.” And he laughed even harder at your unamused face. “Actually, no, I take that back, I need you to actually feed my kid, because what baby ever looked cute while looking like they’re on a keto diet?”

You didn’t want to laugh, damn it. “Eddie!” You whined. But his humor was surely putting a suppressed smile on your face, which totally would have shown if it wasn’t for your stubbornness. 

“Alright, alright, but I do know pregnant ladies like random shit, hell, I like random shit, so until dinner’s ready… bon appétit!” The French heritage he didn’t have came out with a horrible accent. “It’ll make you happy, right?”

Sugar in a tube, how could it not?

“I don’t know… kinda makes me teeth hurt-”

“Oh, my god, woman, you’re killing me!” His dramatic flair sent him falling back. 

There was your sweet laughter. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” You giggled with liveliness. “Thank you, thank you for the food… ish.”

You pried open the container lid, as Eddie handed you a spoon to down mouthfuls of whipped sweetness. There was a quietness to the moment that you didn’t want to disturb. 

The creaminess of frosting, as it scooped; the clink of silver from the spoon clashing with your teeth; the melodic swirl of ice cubes floating in the water; the soft squeak of your lips sucking through the straw to retrieve the refreshment. 

It was all too perfect.

Eddie’s hand had brandished your ankle, twiddling with your sock, as his eyes never left your figure. You could feel his eyes burning into you, waiting for the moment you’d speak about the situation. But it wasn’t coming like he hoped. You quite hated how those who never knew him could brand him with that trait of immaturity, when really it was you picking at a container of frosting to avoid communication. 

“So-”

“Do we have any Doritos left?” You interjected. 

Eddie blinked. “Uh… no, don’t think so. Think I took the last bag to practice.”

You dramatically frowned at him, as he softly chuckled at your exaggerated disdain. “Want some with the frosting.” You muttered, clearly unbothered by his grimace, as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth. 

“Christ, you really are pregnant.” Eddie Munson had you heartily laughing. 

“No, I used to do that way before I was pregnant, when I was a kid.” You defended. 

Eddie playful scoffed. “And I’m the one who got bullied when I was a kid.” His hand splayed over his chest.

“The sweetness goes really well with the savoriness!” You proclaimed. “Plus, you know Doritos have, like, a little tang, especially if they’re seasoned well, so it balances it out perfectly!” Quite the defense you had there. 

“And you like that?” What a big bully. You giggled at his face of disbelief.

“I don’t want to hear any of this, it’s your child inside me, God knows they’ll probably make me eat even weirder things!”

Humor. Eddie Munson clocked it. You were only going to get through this with humor. “No, no, I’m making this kid normal, it’s your Doritos-dipped-in-frosting genes that are gonna wonk ‘em up!”  

“No, I’m not!” Laughter flooded your mouth that dropped in disbelief, and suddenly you were flinging your spoon to traject whatever bit of frosting that was left to hit him. “You’re just as weird as me, if not, even more!” Eddie’s stomach was cramping at your utter offense, as he scraped off the white cream from his face, only to eat it. 

“Okay, well, listen if that’s the case, then can I show you something weird?” He proffered a shy smile. “But I’m already telling you now it’s weird, so you can’t be weird about being weirded out just because you find what I’m about to show you to be too weird. Alright? No weird comments.”

You snickered. “That was a lot of ‘weirds.’” Eddie raised a pointed brow at you. “Okay, I promise I won’t be weird, show me.”

With your promise, Eddie had reached to grab his small notebook, and maneuvered his way to sit himself right beside you; knees knocking and all with how close he wanted to be.

The pages had bulked up between the binding with just how much his pens and pencils engraved into the paper. You watched him flip through sketches and lyrics, a plethora of campaign ideas, even an old math equation here and there from when he attended school, and decided to actually pay attention, only to realize calculus could be fun if he just understood it. 

When it came to a particular page, dated on the fifteenth of seven months ago, Eddie had come to a halt, and your eyes inevitably landed on the detailed sketch of a sleeping figure that looked oddly like you (not oddly, two years in his presence was like being the muse for Johannes Vermeer).

“Um, I, uh- I mean, of course, my number one choice for a name is Ozzy.” He awkwardly laughed, as his finger fidgeted with the page, where your eyes were finally able to analyze the random scribble of names that blended aside the doodles of dark wizards. 

“Ozzy? You thought of names?” You incredulously peered up at him. 

Eddie laughed. “Before, b-before this whole thing happened, if that even makes it any less, uh, weird.” It was quite evident his sudden shyness was forcing him to stumble over his words. “Y-Y’know, just like one of those mindless things you think about when you’re, um, like, bored. And, w-well, really this is actually your fault, because you fell asleep on me,” his finger reverted back to the sketch of yourself, “so, really it was like you were forcing me to come up with these names, since I had nothing to do.” 

“And, of course, you landed on Ozzy.” You giggled, as your head dropped to his shoulder. 

“Well, duh, what Ozzy isn’t cool? Like Ozzy Osbourne, and… y’know… that other famous Ozzy from… history- but don’t worry about that! Just think about how perfect it’ll be when this kid becomes a rockstar like his old man,” Eddie proudly pointed to himself, “and they already got a metal name like Ozzy!”

Eddie Munson never failed to make you laugh. “Okay, but, like, what if this kid doesn’t want to be a rockstar? And y’know, now we’re the ones responsible for putting an Ozzy into the, I don’t know, medical field. Would you really trust a Dr. Ozzy to do your colonoscopy?” 

He pondered for a second. “Boom!” His fingers snapped. “Okay, we’ll do Oswald! If I can make Edward work, this kid can make Oswald work!” He protested. 

“Oh, great, just like Oswald Mosley.” Your eyes playfully rolled. 

“Yeah, see! A cool Ozzy!”

You laughed. “Eddie, I’m, like, a hundred percent certain that dude was some British fascist.”

“Shit, okay, well, scratch Oswald; Oswald sucks. We’re going back to Ozzy; Ozzy’s cool.” Christ, he was too perfect to handle. 

Your cheek squished against his shoulder, as you looked up to smile at him. “And if she’s a little girl?” 

Eddie beamed, coming down to plant his lips to yours. “I got that basis covered, too, babe.” You looked to where his finger was repeatedly tapping, and squinted your eyes to ready his barely eligible chicken scratch. 

“Ar… Arwen Munson.” You eyed him suspiciously. “What Arwen have you met that’s got you wanting to name our future child that?”

He chuckled. “From Lord of the Rings.” And he chuckled even more witnessing your dramatic eye roll, because how predictable! “But not just Munson, I got your last name down with it, too, if you’re more into that. Totally with that feminist shit, if you want me and the gremlins taking your last name.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You preened. 

“Mhm!” He smiled. “Could definitely hyphenate, but imagine the curveball the county clerk would get when they realize I’m changing my last name to yours. Think your folks would be okay with me becoming one of them?” 

Despite the fervent shake of your head, your smile never disappeared. “They’ll probably hate you for getting me pregnant before marriage.” 

Eddie snorted. “Ha! Our kid’s a bastard. Even I wasn’t. Jesus H. Christ, we’re really screwing him up.” 

“Him?”

“Ah, shit, just kinda came out as the default, maybe I’m not with that feminist shit as much as I thought.”

Eddie Munson was always one to make your cheeks hurt with how much he made you smile. “You’re so stupid.” You giggled, as he winked at you. 

You fell back against the pillows, as Eddie followed suit. Looking up was quite pretty. No matter how cramped or hot it was becoming in the blanket fort, the bleeding of twinkling colors made it all bearable. 

Like a little world just for him and you. 

You breathed heavily for a second, your hand linking with his. “Do you really want babies?” 

You heard his prolonged sigh. “I don’t know.” His eyes absentmindedly counted the individual bulbs of Christmas lights. “Don’t really like that white-picket-fence bullshit-”

“Prefer the trailer park chain fence?”

“Shut up.” He quietly laughed. “But, uh, I don’t know, I kinda like the idea of some little thing looking like you.” His hand squeezed yours. 

Heat flooded your cheeks, as your heart pattered with anticipation. “Even if it cries and poops all the time?”

“Hell, you and I already do that all the time now, think we can manage a third.” Then he paused. “But… I also kinda like just having you to myself, too. Just you and me holding down the fort.” He felt quite proud of irony.

Giggles were bubbling in your chest, before you took a minute to rationally think. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He whispered. 

“We were barely able to pay our light bill this month.”

“And we’re shit cooks.” He added.

“And our home smells like weed.”

“And you like to eat Doritos dipped in frosting.”

You both finally turned to one another, as his eyes met yours, where you laughed through the glassy tears that were flooding your eyes. “Having a baby sounds really scary-” Your voice broke like the little girl you suddenly felt like you were. Your soft cries were wiped by Eddie’s chest, as his arms protected you. “B-But getting rid of it a-also seems scary.”

His lips brushed against your cheeks in gentle shushes, as his whispers of, “I know, I know, I know,” bled into your ear. 

Twenty and twenty-two with ambitions that ran higher than the sky. And yes, perhaps grueling shifts at Joe’s Auto Repair or long hours at B. Dalton Bookseller weren’t exactly the desired dream, but they were stepping stones to the fruition of your aspirations. 

A little mini Munson wasn’t exactly going to fit in as easily as the housewives of Hawkins, Indiana made it out to be. Not in a trailer. Not in your life. 

“I just- I just don’t want to regret my decision. I don’t want to be selfish.” Your body shuddered into his body. 

His hand caressed your hair, as you felt his head shake to reject your thoughts. “Aw, no, baby, c’mon don’t be like that.” His lips soaked in your salty tears with his delicate kisses. “That’s not even true. Nothing you decide to do will be selfish.”

“No, but it is! W-What if I do what them, b-but money becomes an issue, it a-already is! They won’t have g-good clothes, a nice crib, not even their own room-”

“So, I’ll pick up more shifts at the shop, baby-”

You bore into his eyes. “But I want you to be happy, Eddie.”

Two years ago, when you both were still roaming the halls of Hawkins High, Eddie Munson had vowed to stick by your side through it all. High off of weed or not, the promise was real, cemented into his heart, and devoted to keep up with. 

Eddie whispered against your lips. “Being with you is what makes me happy.”

“But you deserve a life outside of this trailer.” Your hand crept to his cheek. “And anything I decide seems to not make me a good person. I just want to be a good person.” You sniffled. “If I have the baby now, it’ll be for my own selfish reasons of just wanting them. If I don’t, I’ll be for my own selfish reasons of not wanting to give up my life.” 

Eddie didn’t even mind you coughing in his face. “Y-You were right before, we could, y’know, help a couple out, but the pregnancy- I-I want my body, I don’t want to change, not if I don’t get to keep them. And even if I do, w-what if I take my baby home only to not feel anything for them like a mother should? Then what?”

Eddie sighed, as his thumb swept under your eye. “I don’t know why you’re making those things out to be a bad thing.” Your brows furrowed. “This is between us, and only us. Not a goddamn person in this world deserves to know what we know, and they sure as hell don’t get a say in it.” His eyes blinked down the soft tears that invaded his face. And he graced it with a smile on his face. “You wanna baby, I’ll get Claudia to give us all of Henderson’s baby shit, lord knows that poor woman still hoards it.” You giggled through your congestion. “And if you don’t wanna baby, I’ll hold your hand for as long as the doctors will let me, and hell, I’ll take you to Vegas the next day to party your heart out.”

Laughing as the tears poured down both your faces, you crept in closer to smush your nose against his to glue your lips together. 

Despite the salty taste invading your tongue, you devoured his mouth with the fervency of your love. 

A sorry for the lack of communication; a thank you for being the greatest person ever. 

With your teeth sinking into his lips, Eddie begrudgingly had to be an adult. “Fuck, if you don’t stop, we’re gonna cotinue having the same problem of you getting pregnant.” Even in the scariest of times, your Eddie was able to dissipate the fear in your heart, only to consume it with utter awe at the man before you. Your foreheads stuck together, as his hand circled your back, before whispering close. “Do you, and only you, have any idea as to what you wanna do?” He kissed his support to your lips. 

You sighed. 

You found out you were pregnant one week and three days ago. In fact, the four sticks—excessive, yes—continued to remain in your purse for Eddie’s own peace to never discover. As much as you could go back-and-forth in logistics and dreams, there was always the truth of what you wanted for you and Eddie that seemed to circle back whenever you decided to give your mind a rest. 

It was always there, just hidden in the tangle of overthinking burdens. Eddie Munson would never let that be a bad thing, he quite liked your mind very much. 

So, you wouldn’t let it be a bad thing. 

You could hear his voice already, “It just means you’re thorough. I, sure as hell, am not.” 

You delicately smiled, as you peered into his eyes. “Yeah.”

And Eddie was there to smile right back at you. “And how do you want me to help?”

“I don’t want your help. I just want you there with me through it all.” 

[fortheloveofwonderland]

The Magic 8 | Ralvez x Fem! Reader

This was another request for my milestone celebration from @andiebeaword which just turned into a crazy, smutty beast. This is so loosely tied to the song and I’m sorry. I had to throw weird magic 8 ball references into it that might seem out of place but it made me feel better for going so far off track with this. This is super NSFW Minors DNI.

Summary - Spencer and Luke’s relationship is on rocky ground as Spencer starts to regret never getting to be with a woman. When Luke suggests inviting Spencer’s favourite barista to join them in the bedroom, all signs point to yes.

CW - this is just utter filth, proceed with caution. Oof where to begin - talk of sexuality, Spencer has never been with a woman, sexually fluid Luke, PWP, very brief mention of drinking and past drug addiction, making out, sub! Reader, Dom! Luke, switch! Spencer (Dom with reader, sub with Luke), handjobs, swearing, slight masturbation (male), oral sex (f and m receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, fingering, overstimulation, coming untouched, penetrative, protected sex.

WC - 6.7k

Uncertainties were a tragic and unfair symptom of living, something Spencer Reid had learnt all too many times in his years on earth. Life was inherently unforeseeable, unpredictable by nature. 

For someone who hated the unknown like Spencer, it was a hard pill to swallow but one he’d had to swallow time and time again. Life was no less random than the answers on a magic 8 ball, and he’d had to come to terms with that. 

If there was one thing Spencer had always been able to be certain of it was his sexuality. For as long as he could remember he’d always known he was gay and it was a small definitive in his world that he’d been able to count on for many years. 

He’d never looked at girls the way other boys his age had, Spencer had been too busy looking at the boys themselves. He didn’t really understand what that meant until he reached his teens and for a long time it was a part of himself he tried to deny. 

He was already an outcast with being younger and smarter than all of his peers and he didn’t want to add any fuel to the bullies fire. He kept it to himself, his own little secret. 

It was only once he was in his twenties he became ready to act upon it and once he did he never looked back. 

In an uncertain world, his sexuality was the only thing he was certain of. 

Until he wasn’t. 

When Spencer first met Luke Alvez he thought all his birthdays and Christmases had come at once. Spencer had fallen head over heels for him and much to his surprise, Luke had felt the same. 

He’d never been happier than he was with Luke, but then he met you and you changed everything. 

Spencer had never found himself looking at a woman the way he looked at you. There was something so magnetic about you that he gravitated towards you without even meaning to do so. 

You were the new barista at his favourite coffee shop and you were effervescent, ethereal in your beauty. Spencer found himself often getting tongue tied around you, tripping over his words and sometimes even his own feet. 

And without intentionally doing so, he pulled away from Luke. It was little by little at first until there seemed to be a chasm between them. 

Was his happiness simply a trend for Spencer? Tomorrow now seemed misunderstood, because it was reading outlook not so good. If only the signs would point to “yes” and you could maybe feel the same for him. 

But that wasn’t what he wanted right? He loved Luke, he was just going through a phase. It was nothing more than a harmless crush. 

Wasn’t it? 

Wasn’t it? 

Luke had noticed the way Spencer was acting but he didn’t understand what was happening other than the fact his boyfriend of three years was shutting him out. Every time he tried to talk to the younger man about it he changed the subject. And every time he tried to initiate contact, Spencer shied away. 

Eventually he’d had enough and he had to confront Spencer or risk losing him for good. It had taken some pursuing from Luke and a lot of resistance from Spencer but Luke managed to get to the bottom of his boyfriend's little crush. 

And thus had ensued a long and arduous conversation. 

Luke was, to Spencer’s surprise, extremely understanding. He understood Spencer’s curiosity even if Spencer didn’t. 

Luke had always been a lot more fluid with his sexuality, he’d been with both women and men in the past whereas Spencer had never been with a woman before. 

It confused Spencer and Luke also understood that. Spencer had been so sure about this one aspect of his life from a young age and it didn’t make sense to him how, in his forties, he was now questioning that. 

Luke didn’t begrudge Spencer’s interest and tried to tell the younger man it was perfectly understandable that one day he might find himself curious about these things he’d never experienced before. 

And somehow the conversation had culminated in Luke suggesting a threesome.

Spencer initially vehemently shut that idea down. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of sharing his boyfriend and the thought of being with a woman quite frankly terrified him. 

But the more Luke talked about it, the more Spencer started to open up to it. Although it was terrifying it was also incredibly exciting. And it would only be one night, one night in which he could explore a side of himself he never had before and then everything could go back to normal. 

So he found himself waiting at the coffee shop one day until your shift ended, closing his eyes and ready to take a leap of faith. 

He was prepared for you to say no, to probably call him a creep and he would subsequently need to find a new coffee shop. 

But after explaining everything to you, and showing you pictures of Luke, you’d been surprisingly interested. 

And that was how he’d found himself in a hotel room with his boyfriend and his barista, staring dumbly from across the room and ringing his hands together in his lap. 

There’d been some casual conversation, a drink in the bar to loosen them up, at least for the two of you who didn’t have a past with addiction. But soon enough Luke was suggesting they head upstairs and Spencer’s heart had been beating erratically ever since. 

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room while Luke, who had always been the more confident of the two, wasted no time in moving in on you. 

He held your face in his hands as he kissed you ferociously, bodies flush against each other and small gratified moans leaving both of your lips. 

The first thing Spencer felt was jealousy and not because you were kissing his boyfriend. He was jealous because since the moment he’d laid eyes on you he’d wanted to do what Luke was doing now. 

Your hands wandered Luke’s back while he kissed you, and Spencer felt like a spare part. For a moment or two he felt as though you’d both simply forgotten him and that he was in for a night of watching you and Luke together. 

But then Luke pulled back from your lips and stepped out of your grasp, turning and looking over at the shy man cowering in the corner.

“Spence, you just gonna watch all night?” Luke chuckled, heading over to him and pulling the younger man to his feet. “You’re the reason we’re doing this, cariño.” 

Spencer felt his stomach coiling into knots as Luke led him closer to you. You were smiling sweetly at him, your lips already slightly puffy from Luke’s kiss. 

When Luke let go of him you quickly stepped closer to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

“You've never even kissed a woman?” You tilted your head to the side as you looked at him. 

“N-no.” He stuttered with a shake of his head. 

“You do want this right, Spencer? You seem…uncomfortable.” You regarded him curiously. 

“I’m always uncomfortable, that’s normal. I, uh, I really want this. I’m just incredibly nervous.” He kept his hands at his side, acutely aware of Luke watching him. 

“That’s ok, we can go slow.” You moved closer to him, your breasts pushing up against his chest and he hissed slightly. “You can touch me, Spencer.” 

“Oh.” He nodded. “Oh, ok.” 

His hands trembled a little as he raised his arms and placed them cautiously on your hips. You offered him an encouraging smile as you inched your face slowly closer to his, giving him a chance to change his mind if he wanted to. 

But he didn’t want to. 

Your lips gently brushed against his own and that tiny action was all he needed and suddenly it was like a light had switched on. One his hands flew to the back of your head, holding you in place as he somewhat roughly slammed his lips against yours. 

You moaned at the sudden forcefulness and Spencer was quick to slide his tongue in your mouth. He gripped the back of your hair and kissed you so deeply the air vanished from your lungs. 

Luke’s eyes widened at the quick change in his boyfriend who was kissing you more frantically than Luke had ever seen. 

And when Spencer used his grip on your hair to lead you back to the bed and push you down to the mattress, Luke felt himself growing hard in an instant. 

He shoved you back to the bed and he remained standing, looking down at you with dark eyes. His previous nerves had disappeared, it was like looking at a completely different person. 

Truthfully the moment he tasted your lips everything seemed to click into place for him. He needed this more than he’d ever realised and now he had the chance he didn’t plan on squandering it. 

Spencer had spent his whole life as a submissive in every aspect of his life. But one kiss from you brought out his dominant side and he adored the way it made him feel. 

He glanced at Luke and the visible tenting in his jeans. Looking into the older man’s eyes, his dominance slipped for a moment and he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Is this…is this ok?” He swallowed. 

“Spencer, it is more than ok. I want you to enjoy this, this is your night.” Luke encouraged him. 

Spencer nodded and turned back to you and your ragdoll form on the mattress. His lip twitched up into a slightly dangerous smirk. 

“Get undressed.” He commanded, his voice so stern you knew not to argue it. 

You were eager to do as you were told, scrabbling to get out of your clothes while the two men stood side by side watching as your articles of clothing got fewer and fewer. 

Once your bra was removed, Spencer’s jaw fell slack as he stared at your chest, the first pair of breasts he’d ever seen in real life. 

You puffed out your chest proudly and worked on getting off your jeans. Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of every dip and curve in your body. 

If the tightening in his pants was any indication, he wasn’t nearly as gay as he’d always thought he was. 

He was so busy staring at you as you shimmied off your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a silk thong, he didn’t notice Luke moving behind him until he felt the older man’s strong arms wrap around his waist. 

Luke’s lips glided over the shell of his ear and one of his hands palmed Spencer through his slacks.

“Enjoying this, Spence?” Luke whispered as he nibbled on Spencer’s ear lobe.

“Very much so.” Spencer nodded dumbly. 

“He told you to get undressed, sweetheart.” Luke spoke to you while he worked on the buttons of Spencer’s slacks, grinding against him from behind. “Panties off.” 

As if being told what to do by one man wasn’t already hot, having them both command you made your head spin. 

You quickly did as you were told and lowered your underwear down your legs as Luke’s hand was slipping inside of Spencer’s pants and freeing his erect cock. 

Spencer made an animalistic hissing sound at the sight of you fully nude. That combined with Luke’s hand which was now languidly stroking him made his knees buckle. 

“What do you want to do to her, baby?” Luke nuzzled against his ear. 

Spencer moaned lightly at the mere thought. His options were wide open, he could do anything he wanted to you but where did he begin? 

Where was the magic 8 ball when he needed it? 

You watched him curiously, standing by the side of the bed in all your glory while Luke worked Spencer’s cock in his hand. 

His pumps were lazy and slow, not intending to bring his boyfriend to orgasm but more just to tide him over. 

“Fuck,” Spencer mumbled as all the sordid thoughts spun around his head. “I wanna…fuck…I think I want to eat her out.” 

You whined and pressed your thighs together at the thought. You knew the situation, you knew Spencer had never been with a woman before but you had no doubt he would be good at whatever he had planned. 

Luke bucked himself against Spencer’s ass and tightened his hold on the other man’s shaft. 

“Jesus I’d really like to see that.” Luke moaned, breath hitting the side of Spencer’s face. “I’ve got an idea.” 

Luke let go of Spencer’s dick and stepped around him until he was face to face with his partner, his back to you. Spencer whined a little now Luke was blocking his view of you but Luke was smiling. 

He brought his hands to the top button of Spencer’s shirt and started popping them open. Spencer didn’t question it and simply let Luke free him from his shirt. 

Once it was undone, Luke tossed the garment on the floor before helping Spencer out of his pants and boxers with zero protest from Spencer. 

With Spencer now naked too, his hard member standing to attention against his stomach, Luke led him towards the bed by the wrist. 

Spencer didn’t complain when Luke laid him down on the bed, head resting against the pillows. He was a little confused but he trusted Luke. 

Having Spencer in position, Luke turned to you with an almost wicked smile. He curled his finger, motioning you towards him and you happily complied. 

Luke quickly slammed his lips against yours again and his hands started wandering down your body while his tongue explored your mouth. 

Soon enough his large hand was between your thighs, spreading them a little before his middle and index finger suddenly swiped through through folds, causing you to yelp. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Spence, she’s so wet already. You’re gonna love this.” 

Spencer whined, his hand wandering of its own volition, finding his shaft and firmly squeezing the base. 

Luke collected your arousal on his fingers before brushing over your clit a few times but all too soon he was withdrawing his fingers entirely. 

His pupils were blown out wide as he pulled back from you, a smirk adorned on his lips.

“You want him to eat your pussy, angel?” He tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You mewled in response, but Luke was looking at you, demanding a verbal answer.

“Yes, yes! Fuck, please?” You whimpered. 

Luke nodded in satisfaction, turning your body by the shoulders to face Spencer who was still holding his cock in his hand. 

“Sit on his face.” Luke commanded, tone so stern that even if that didn’t sound incredibly hot you would have done it anyway. 

Spencer’s eyes widened as you crawled on the bed, his nerves returning in an instant. 

“What if I’m not…what if I’m not any good?” His cheeks burned with embarrassment but he directed his question at Luke and not you. 

“Baby, you’ll be just fine. You’re a genius after all, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Luke winked at him and it provided Spencer with encouragement. 

You kneeled over his chest, a little hesitant to go any further. But then suddenly Spencer was grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer. 

He met no resistance from you and was able to pull you like a rag doll until you were hovering over his face. He exhaled a shaky breath and you felt it between your legs. 

“It’s ok cariño, you can do it.” Luke gave Spencer’s leg a reassuring squeeze. 

Spencer growled as he inhaled your scent and suddenly like a man possessed, he tugged you down so you were sitting on his face and his tongue brushed over your most sensitive area.

You whined loudly at the contact and Spencer’s arm came to rest heavily across your thighs to keep you in place. His tongue glided through you, gathering your arousal and hissing at the taste of you. 

When his tongue settled back on your clit and he started lapping and sucking on your bud you couldn’t help but wiggle on his face, feeling the glorious friction from his stubble between your legs. 

He didn’t go easy on you, he wasn’t tentative like a man who had never done this before. He was immediately eating you out with the desperation of a man devouring his final meal. 

His arm was heavy against your thighs, keeping you steadily in place. You leant your palms on the headboard of the bed to keep you upright.

Luke was moaning to himself as he listened to the glorious and slightly messy sounds Spencer was making between your legs. 

He watched the way his boyfriends eyes fluttered closed and he buried his face into you while his tongue worked your clit. 

Your body was already trembling above him, and the moans leaving your parted lips were the sweetest song Luke had ever heard. 

He undressed himself, his eyes never leaving Spencer for a second. As soon as he was naked like the two of you he climbed onto the bed. 

You barely registered the weight of the bed shift beneath you, too focused on Spencer’s work with his mouth. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t done this before because he knew exactly what he was doing. 

He flattened his tongue and ran it through your folds to collect more of your arousal before he settled back on his ministrations on your clit. 

He held you down with force, you wouldn’t be surprised if he left a bruise across your thighs with the pressure he was exerting. 

Spencer didn’t care. He was obsessed with the way you tasted and couldn’t believe he’d gotten to this age and never tried this. 

He could feel you soaking his face, as his nose buried against you while his tongue continued to lap and suck greedily at you. 

His cock was throbbing painfully, in desperate need of stimulation. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if he came untouched simply from the taste of you. 

He was certain this would not be his last time doing this. 

You suddenly felt a warm, hard body encompassing you from behind at the same time Spencer felt a pressure on his chest. 

Luke knelt either side of Spencer’s torso and pressed himself against your back. 

“Jesus Christ you have no idea how hot this is.” He panted against your ear. “How does she taste, Spence?”

“Hmm.” The younger man simply hummed against you, sending a vibration through your entire body. 

Your eyes were rolling back in your head at Spencer’s deft tongue but that wasn’t even the half of it. 

You felt something ghosting between your legs from behind and then suddenly two thick digits were plunging inside of you. 

“Holy shit.” You mumbled incoherently as your head fell to your chest. 

Luke smirked as he placed a kiss against your neck and started working his fingers inside of you. 

“Fuck, Spence she’s tight. Your gonna want to fuck her.” 

Spencer hummed against your clit again and tightened his hold on your thighs. He nuzzled his face entirely between your legs, desperate to taste more of you but the idea of being inside you made his cock pulse achingly. 

Luke thrust his fingers deeply inside of you, feeling you fluttering and clenching around him. The moans and whimpers leaving your lips were feral and he could tell you wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Are you close, pretty girl?” He mumbled against your neck. 

“Mmm hmm.” You pathetically replied. 

Luke grinded his hips against your back whilst his fingers moved in and out of you rapidly, pounding into you with bruising force. 

Spencer never let up even for a second and the sounds of his tongue between your legs filled the room alongside three sets of moans. 

Your body startled to tremble furiously and you felt your orgasm pooling in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly your back went rigid and your eyes shot open as you reached your peak. 

“F-fuck!” You screamed so loud the walls shook, clenching around Luke’s fingers as Spencer swallowed every drop of your orgasm. 

Soon you were going limp again and Luke held you upright with his body as he slowly slipped his fingers out from between your legs. 

But Spencer didn’t seem perturbed. 

His arm on your thigh tightened even more so and he continued circling your sweet spot with his tongue. 

Luke wrapped his arms around you to steady you, your body shaking. 

“S-Spencer,” you whined. “S’too much!” 

But Spencer still didn’t stop. 

His tongue traversed through your legs and back again to your clit where he pressed the flat of the muscle against you.

You whimpered, quaking on top of him and trying to squeeze your thighs together but his head was in the way. It seemed to spur him on and his tongue moved faster. 

“Spencer?” Luke tried to get his attention but Spencer didn’t listen. 

His own orgasm was building and he was so close he couldn’t stop now. 

He kept up his work, seemingly not noticing your whines or the tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation. You felt him moan between your legs and then out of nowhere his body started to convulse beneath you. 

His grip on you loosened and you fell back into Luke’s waiting arms. Spencer was panting and moaning furiously. 

Luke helped you to lay down next to Spencer but he couldn’t take his eyes off of his boyfriend and the slickness coating his mouth and chin. 

When his eyes cast further down the younger man’s body he noticed his slowly softening cock and his come all over his stomach. 

Luke couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Spencer coming simply from pleasuring you. 

Luke laid down between you, two worn out and lifeless bodies either side of him. But he wasn’t done with either of you, he hadn’t gotten off yet. 

He gripped Spencer by the jaw and turned his head to face him before smashing his lips against his boyfriends. 

The taste of you on Spencer’s lips was phenomenal and he made a gut wrenching moan erupt from Luke’s lungs. 

“You liked that huh?” Luke smirked into the kiss. “I guess you must have done if you can come just from eating pussy.” 

Spencer simply mewled, his body shuddering at the thought and Luke chuckled as he slowly manoeuvred himself down the bed. 

He bowed his head to Spencer’s stomach and started lapping his tongue over his flesh, cleaning his boyfriend of his arousal. 

Spencer whined a little at the sensation, wriggling on the bed but allowing Luke to clean him up. 

“Come on guys, what about me?” Luke sat back on his haunches and looked at the two of you, already complete wrecks. 

He chuckled with a roll of his eyes and got up from the bed, tugging Spencer by the wrist until he was sitting up. 

“Since you have such an oral fixation, it’s my turn, cariño.” Luke nodded to his hard cock which was begging to be touched. 

Spencer whimpered again but nodded all the same and forced himself onto his knees in front of Luke. 

He would get a second wind, no doubt. One of his favourite things in the world was giving his boyfriend head and he would never turn down the opportunity, 

He placed his hands on Luke’s hips as he bowed his head closer to his length, blowing cool air over the tip and making Luke groan. 

Soon he was parting his lips and wrapping them around Luke, quickly taking the older man all the way in his mouth until he hit the back of his throat. 

But Spencer didn’t even seem to notice. He had the most impressive gag reflex that even when Luke got carried away and fucked Spencer’s mouth, Spencer never batted an eyelid. 

The sloppy sounds of saliva and Luke’s moans caught your attention and you rolled onto your side to see Spencer now taking the other man’s length like it was his job. 

You’d given plenty of blowjobs in your life but you’d never gotten the chance to witness one in real life. 

It was a dizzying sight, the way Luke’s entire cock disappeared inside of Spencer’s mouth, the same mouth that had been pleasuring you just moments before. 

The way Spencer’s tongue glided up the vein on Luke’s shaft and then danced teasingly over his swollen head was intoxicating. The way Luke’s abs tightened each time Spencer took him all the way to the back of his throat was glorious. 

Luke’s eyes snapped up from where they’d been watching Spencer and onto you, that dangerous smirk on his lips again.

“Come and give him a hand, angel.” He winked at you and his tone told you exactly what he meant. 

You still felt weak as you clambered to the edge of the bed, your skin so sensitive. You dropped down to the floor kneeling behind Spencer and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

He was already half hard again as you wrapped your hand around his shaft and a muffled scream left his lips at the sudden contact. You felt his body jerk forward at your touch, thrusting his face into Luke’s pubic hair. 

Luke chuckled and moved his hand to the back of Spencer’s head, balling up his locks and using his grip to control the pace. 

Spencer was standing at full attention in no time at all as you stroked him and you felt yourself getting turned on again too. 

Luke stared down at the two of you on the floor as he bucked back and forth in Spencer’s mouth. Luke had always been the more dominant of the two men and having both of you on your knees, so subservient to him was the most incredible feeling in the world. 

He wanted to freeze time, to capture this delicious image in his mind. He wanted this to last forever.

But he also wanted more. 

He knew this was supposed to be for Spencer’s benefit but it had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to be with a woman and Luke didn’t want to let it pass him by. 

He already felt his precum leaking down Spencer’s throat but that wasn’t how he wanted to come. 

Suddenly he let go of Spencer’s hair and stepped back from the younger man’s mouth. If there was ever a sight to reduce a grown man to a fucking puddle it was the one Luke was witnessing now.

A trail of salvia joined the head of his cock to Spencer’s chin, dripping down from his pouty lips. His eyes were large and doe like, staring up at Luke like he hung the moon, messy hair falling in his face. 

And you were behind him, chest pushed up against his back while you continued to stroke his cock. 

The love he felt for this man was incomprehensible, the kind that defied all laws of nature. 

But he would put a pin in that, he had more pressing matters to attend to. 

“Both of you up.” He commanded and you both scurried to your feet without question. 

Luke’s hungry eyes took you all in, focusing on you while Spencer stood dumbly at your side. 

“On the bed, spread your legs.” He told you sternly and yet again you were quick to comply. 

Luke located the condoms, ripped one open and rolled it over his length. It was a little odd at first, he hadn’t used condoms since he and Spencer first started dating but at least it might mean he could last a little longer. 

Although given how turned on he was, even a condom might not help. 

Spencer looked at him a little sadly, a pathetic whine leaving his lips. 

“What about me? I thought I was going to fuck her?” 

“And you will, baby,” Luke cooed, brushing his fingers along Spencer’s jaw. “But it’s my turn first, you already got to come. It’s only fair that I do too.” 

“O-ok.” Spencer nodded. “W-what do I do?” 

“You get to watch, cariño.” Luke shot him a wink before climbing onto the bed where you laid out in front of him. 

He regarded you curiously for a moment or two before he pulled you up by your biceps. 

“I want you to ride me, angel. Can you do that for me?” He whispered so lovingly and you nodded which seemed to please him. 

He let go of your arms and positioned himself so he was sitting up against the headboard. You climbed into his lap, a knee either side of his hips and hovered over his length. 

Luke glanced at Spencer who was still standing dumbly at the side of the bed like a spare part. He patted the mattress next to him. 

“Come here,” he nodded his head, motioning Spencer over. 

Spencer did as he was told yet again and came and sat next to Luke just as you started lowering yourself onto him.

From this angle Spencer had the most incredible view of Luke’s cock as it disappeared inch by inch inside your cunt. 

You and Luke moaned simultaneously as he pushed inside of you. He was thick and heavy but maybe not as long as Spencer but he stretched you out as he entered you. 

“Fucking Christ,” Luke moaned as he bottomed out inside you. “I forgot how good that feels.” 

It was different than having Spencer around him. Not better, not worse; just different. He wouldn’t trade sex with Spencer for anything in the world but you felt so spectacular that for a brief moment or two he forgot about Spencer’s existence. 

It was only when the younger man let out a guttural moan that Luke remembered him sitting next to him. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he gave Spencer a sideways glance. 

“Touch yourself for me.” He whispered to his boyfriend. 

Spencer’s hand immediately found his own member and he started stroking himself languidly. 

Your eyes flit between where Luke was repeatedly slamming inside of you and to where Spencer was jerking himself slowly. 

Luke grabbed your hips and used his grip to help move you up and down. His own hips were bucking to meet you, his orgasm dangerously close after the night's previous events. 

His head was a complete mess, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been so turned on in his entire life. He didn’t want this moment to end so soon but he knew his release was imminent. 

“Fucking hell I’m sorry, I’m so close.” Luke whined, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 

You tried to meet his pace and each time he pounded inside of you his blunt head slammed right against your bundle of nerves. 

“S-Spence,” he panted, eyes hooded and full of lust. “Get a c-condom. You can f-finish her off.” 

Spencer squeezed the base of his cock at the thought, a cacophony of nerves and excitement bubbling in his chest. 

He reached over to the side table and retrieved a condom, his hand shaking a little as he tried to tear the foil package. 

Of course he’d helped men with them before but he’d never had the need to wear one himself. Rolling the rubber over his length was a new and strange experience but that would only be the half of it. 

It started to dawn on him that in just a few moments he would be buried inside of you, an encounter he never expected to be having. 

But he couldn’t fucking wait. 

Luke’s face contorted and his fingers dug into your hips as he bucked one last time and came with a strangled moan, spilling his seed inside of the condom. 

Spencer watched on in eager anticipation as Luke continued to lazily thrust in and out of you, growing slightly impatient. 

“My turn?” He whimpered pathetically. “Please?” 

Luke glanced over at him again, eyes barely open and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He reached a lazy hand out to stroke Spencer’s cheek. 

“Of course baby.” He whispered, helping you off of him and hearing you whine as he slid out of you. 

You looked at Spencer while rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, unsure of what you were meant to do. 

“Where do you…how do you…?” You asked softly. 

Spencer’s eyes widened at the question, and he quickly became overwhelmed. Luke could tell by the slight panic in his boyfriend's eyes that his mind was over saturating, over-thinking this moment like he did every other moment.

“Take a breath, Spence.” Luke mumbled. “Close your eyes, I know you’ve pictured this moment. Close your eyes and imagine it.” 

Spencer once again did as he was told he closed his eyes. Luke was right, he had pictured this, a huge amount as of late. 

With Luke, Spencer gave over all his control, letting Luke have the dominance. He’d never minded, always happy in his role as the submissive but right now he craved that power. 

He wanted a position in which he could have full authority over you, in which he would hold all the cards. 

He opened his eyes suddenly and surprised you both when he stood up. He curled his finger for you to do the same which you did in an instant. 

As soon as you were on your feet he grabbed you somewhat roughly by the wrist and led you to the corner of the room where the armchair sat. 

He brought you to the back of it, turning you around so you were bent over it, your back to him. He shoved the back of your head down and parted your legs with his other hand. 

“Just like this,” his voice was breathy. “Fucking perfect.” 

Two fingers ran between your folds and you hummed against the fabric of the chair. But they soon disappeared so he could wrap his hand around his cock and guide it to where he needed it to be. 

He lined himself up and looked over at Luke who hadn’t moved. Spencer’s eyes were questioning, unsure as he looked at his partner. 

“If you don’t want to do this, Spence, no one is going to force you.” Luke spoke quietly, reassuringly. 

“I very much want to, trust me.” Spencer replied. 

“Then what are you waiting for, cariño?” Luke smirked and it was all the impetus Spencer needed. 

He took a shaky breath before he cautiously pushed his head past your threshold. His eyes instantly doubled in size and Luke noticed his entire body stiffening. 

Spencer was still looking at Luke as his mouth fell open and he dared to push another inch inside of you. 

You moaned as he did so, feeling that familiar stretch you’d experienced with Luke. Neither man was small, you would undoubtedly be sore tomorrow. 

“Keep going, baby.” Luke encouraged with a smile. 

Spencer swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously as he did so. Inch by inch, excruciatingly slowly he vanished inside of you, hands holding you steady by your hips. 

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you his whole body stilled as he adjusted to the way it felt. Nothing could have prepared him for it, the way he could feel your walls stretching to accommodate him; how warm and wet you were wrapped around him. 

“How is it, Spence?” Luke breathed. 

“I…I…no words.” Spencer panted his reply. 

There truly were no words to describe it and Spencer usually had a word for everything. But this was so beyond his wildest comprehension that even his giant brain couldn’t find the necessary prose that would do this justice. 

He took another deep breath, finally looking away from Luke and down between your bodies. He gasped loudly at the sight awaiting him as he pulled his hips back, seeing the condom coated in your slick. 

And when he pushed back in his head spun at the way he disappeared inside of you, taking his entire length. 

“Fucking hell.” He panted breathily.

His animalistic side took over then and he started suddenly pounding into you, hard and fast jabs of his cock as it filled you up again and again. 

You gripped the armchair and your moans muffled against the material. Your legs were shaking but Spencer was holding you up with a firm grip on your waist. 

Each time he slammed against you, he seemed to hit you in a new spot and his hips slapped against your ass probably leaving bruises. 

Luke was moaning from his position on the bed, his cock starting to grow hard again at the sight of his boyfriend pounding you. 

Spencer’s face was contorted into an expression of pure ecstasy, like nothing Luke had ever seen before. 

He looked delirious, his eyes half rolled back in his head and his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. 

He fucked you into the armchair, his thrusts unyielding as he worked his way to his orgasm. 

Luke moved without the forethought to do so, on his feet and moving across the room. He came up behind Spencer and wrapped his arms around the other man’s chest, pressing his lips against the soft flesh of his neck. 

“How good does it feel, Spence?” Luke mumbled against his neck. 

“Fucking…so good, so fucking good.” Spencer whined, hips snapping back and forth frantically. 

Luke nibbled on his boyfriend's neck, fingers brushing over his nipples before tweaking them a little. His dick pressed against one of Spencer’s ass cheeks and the friction caused by Spencer’s thrusts was dizzying. 

Spencer felt the telltale tightening in his stomach, the coil wound so tight it would imminently snap. He somehow pounded you harder and you could feel your own orgasm sneaking up on you. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer spoke in a ragged voice, “are you close?” 

“Hmm.” You replied, nodding your head. 

“Fuck, me too.” Spencer agreed. 

Luke could feel Spencer’s impending release in the way his body tightened in his arms and his legs started to wobble furiously. 

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…oh fuck!” He bellowed, burying so deep inside of you as he came in the condom, at the same time he felt you clenching and pulsing around him as your own orgasm joined him. 

His hips kept slowly bucking and he closed his eyes, leaning the weight of his body back against Luke’s chest. 

Luke held him while he came down from his high, while he tried to compensate in his cloudy mind how anything could feel that good. 

Eventually his movements stilled completely and reluctantly he withdrew from you, causing you both to whimper at the emptiness you both suddenly felt. 

His arms still around Spencer, Luke first helped his partner to the bed where he collapsed like a doll, before he returned and aided you to the bed as well with an arm around your waist. 

Luke stood at the foot of the bed and watched the two fucked out bodies as you and Spencer fought to catch your breaths. 

Spencer was on his back with his eyes closed and his fingers ran lazily up and down his own rib cage as though trying to bring himself back down to Earth. 

You were curled up on your side, eyes also closed as you nuzzled against the pillow. 

Luke smiled to himself, hand involuntarily wrapping around the base of his shaft as he regarded you both. 

He started leisurely stroking himself as his eyes flicked between the two of you, dark eyes with blown out pupils. 

In his wildest dreams he never could have predicted how magnificent this night could be. What could have been his and Spencer’s downfall he knew would now only bring them closer. 

The magic 8 ball might have forecast a less than favourable outcome but right now all signs were pointing to yes. And Luke was by no means finished with the fun. 

He stepped a little closer, still stroking himself as he watched you both with a large smile on his face. 

“I’ll give you a moment to catch your breaths,” he spoke almost callously, forcing you both to open your eyes. “But don’t think we’re done here. We’re gonna keep shaking this magic 8 until it breaks.” 

[mrsjellymunson]

Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning. 

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards. 

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black. 

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night. 

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies, 

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so… 

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting. 

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle. 

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking, 

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.” 

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with, 

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly. 

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication. 

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly. 

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,” 

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle, 

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side. 

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed… 

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it. 

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is. 

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind. 

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here. 

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight… 

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

[cleo30300]

M.A.A.D CITY. CHAPTER FOUR! MONEY TREES.

warnings : mention of drugs (1), violence ( extremely minor ), cursing, arguments.

previous part. | next part.

Knock Knock.

Your knuckles hit the door in a rhythmic pattern, the door to the Morales’ home, that is. You would think that maybe you’d have a key by now since you visit so much, but Ms. Morales doesn’t like you that much, you guess.

There are a few beats of silence before you hear shuffling approach the door and the tired voice of your best friend.

“ Who is it? “, he grunts.

“ Me. “

Miles’ voice doesn’t reach your ears again for a few minutes before he’s sighing and unlocking the door.

The wood swings open to reveal him, Voltron pyjama pants and all. His hair is the same as when you last saw him, a little frizzy at the top, but neat braids brushing his collarbone. He needs a haircut.

“ What’s up? “, he says blankly.

“ You’re not gonna let me in? “

“ I don’t gotta let you in. You don’t live here. “, he stares at you like he can’t believe you just asked that question. Like you just asked for a brick of crack. “ What’s up? “

You’re starting to get a little irritated. Barely any communication for a week and when you show up to see what the deal is, you’re met with a grumpy teenage boy who looks like he’s about to break apart into glass shards.

“ I just wanted to see what you were up to, Miles. Don’t get so upset. “

“ ‘M not upset. I haven’t been up to anything, so you can go now. “

“ What’s wrong with you? “

“ Nothing’s wrong. You show up at my house and then you keep on asking me stupid questions like I don’t have anything else to do except talk to you. “, his eyes narrow. The once gold specks in the hazel colour are gone and replaced with anger. Your fist clenches, like he just punched you in the gut and you’re about to reel your own hand back and sock him with it.

“ What the hell is your problem? You barely even talk to me anymore and then when I try to be a good friend, you catch an attitude! “

“ I don’t have a problem! Estas Sordo? “ Miles moves his hand from the doorknob, reaching to grab your upper arm and push you back from the frame, not hard, but enough to get you to move out of his personal space. That you’ve hardly even invaded.

“ Go somewhere else. “, he spits.

“ Fine. “, your eyebrows are furrowed together. You’d been holding a sour expression for so long that your face was sore when you dropped it as soon as the door slammed in your face. Your feet automatically move to the exit of the building. A lump of guilt and anger welling up in your throat while you walk.

What the hell is his problem?

——

Miles swears he wants to choke you out. You’re so nosy. Can never mind your own business. He bounces his leg up and down, cracks his knuckles, drinks tons of water, tries to watch television, anything to get that conversation off his brain. So annoying. You should’ve never even come over. He wasn’t going tell you what was going on anyway, and you know that because you know him. Maybe you don’t know him, since anyone who knows him knows not to show up at his house uninvited.

Hard Headed. Cabeza Dura, whatever you want to be called. It doesn’t change the fact that you don’t listen, ever. It’s not like he ever told you not to come over, it was an unspoken rule!

I am avoiding you. Do not come over.

Easy as that.

You act like one dollar will turn into a million if you come over and act like the mediator between him and his thoughts.

But when he thinks about it, is it really as easy as that?

Of course, you’d come over.. but— not to argue with him. He didn’t want to argue with you, there was no point. He should’ve just said “ Okay. “ and left it at that. Maybe tell you the truth while he’s at it. The truth.

It’s Friday. The trip is next Sunday.

He hasn’t told you, he hasn’t told his mom, he hasn’t told Uncle Aaron and he certainly won’t be telling his school counsellor what the hell was going on in his very busy life. It’s eating him up on the inside. Tearing him apart and pulling out his hair. What will he do?

What would you do?

Tell the truth.

Shut up.

He has to tell his mom. Mama first, then everything else. She’s the only parent he has left. That makes his heart ache thinking about it. He should get over it, nothing is going to change the fact that he’s gone.

Why is every thought he’s ever had coming to the front of his mind right now when he’s about to tell his mom the craziest information? That he’s going on a trip 2244 Miles away from Brooklyn to Vegas of all places?

Right.

His fingers are shaking, he’s going to drop his phone or something. Just get it over with.

He messes up the passcode two times before getting it right, and then he mistypes, “ Mama “ in on the contact list once before he gets his shit together.

Do it.

The call button is right there.

Just do it.

Shut up.

translations:

Cabeza Dura. — hard headed.

Estas Sordo? — You’re deaf?

[dks-smut]

&yet part 2

Pairing: f!reader x rm!Sehun x Kyungsoo

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4,800

Genre: Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Friends/Strangers to FWB (to lovers?)

Warnings: Teasing, drugs/alcohol, foreplay, mutual masturbation.

Plot: Sehun is your best friend and roommate. He invites his new friend over, Kyungsoo, to help him through a rough breakup. As tensions build, the dynamic between you three takes a turn.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /

——///——

You woke up the next morning on the couch a bit confused as to why you were there. You are alone, yet there is a blanket over you and a pillow under your head. It dawns on you that you must have passed out. You stretch and roll off the couch onto your feet. You start walking towards the bathroom and events from last night flash across your memory. After showering and dressing, you relax in front of the TV eating cereal. It’s quite late in the morning to be getting up. Usually you are up before the sun, but it’s almost 11:00am.

While zoning out, watching mind numbing TV, Sehun comes down the hall, yawning. He goes into the fridge and grabs a yogurt. He sits down next to you, just nodding since your mouth is full.

“Where’s Kyungsoo?” Sehun asks.

“Not sure. I woke up and he wasn’t here,” you respond.

“Nothing happened between you two?” Sehun asks.

“What? No. I just met him. He seems nice enough.”

Sehun chuckles, “It was a joke. I covered you up and went to bed. Kyungsoo fell asleep at the other end of the couch.”

”Well, thanks for looking out for me. I can’t believe I slept so late,” you huff.

”I mean, last night was pretty wild,” Sehun jests. “Plus, it’s the weekend, don’t be so hard on yourself,” he continues. “Are you sure you didn’t scare Kyungsoo away? Did you come on to him?”

Sehun is laughing with a mouthful of yogurt, creating a gross sound, which makes you start to laugh.

“No! I swear! The last thing I remember was falling asleep on your shoulder and then waking up,” you say. “Are you trying to set us up or something?”

”What? I mean you guys should hookup. I know you’ve not gotten laid in a long time,” he responds.

You choke on your cereal, mainly because of Sehun’s idea, but mostly because he knows you’ve not had sex in awhile. It hurts, like the truth is supposed to sometimes.

”I don’t even know him. What kind of person do you think I am?” you say, half joking.

“You could just hook up. If you want.”

You take another spoonful of cereal, rolling your eyes, while half listening to the junk on TV. You hope he leaves it there, not to further this conversation.

”I’m meeting my friend tonight at the bar, you and Kyungsoo wanna join?” you ask, completely ignoring Sehun.

”Yeah! Let’s do it! Let’s get smashed!”

“I could set you up with her, but I know you have no issue with finding women to have sex with,” a smirk hiding behind your statement.

Sehun laughs, “Very funny! But we can set each other up! Me with your friend and you with Kyungsoo!”

“Why are you so adamant about setting me up with anyone?” you ask as you tilt the bowl to drink the last of the milk out of it. As you get up to put your bowl in the sink, Sehun grabs his phone while finishing up his yogurt. He glances up as you pass him toward the kitchen.

“I’m not trying to. I just thought it’d be nice, since, you know…” Sehun’s voice gets quieter, hoping you don’t take offense.

“I get it, I do. Believe me. I’m the one going without, not you. Sorry if I sound ungrateful. I don’t know what I want.” A relationship? A friend with benefits? One night stand?

“Well, let me know when you figure it out, and I can help. But not like that, I swear!” Sehun says as he follows you to the kitchen.

“Ew! No! Why would we do that? I like you as my friend!” you say. “Also, my friend is lesbian,” you add as you walk from the kitchen, noticing Sehun choking on his spit. He offers a playful push to your back as you continue into the living room.

And that was that. There is a part of you that cannot get Kyungsoo off your mind. His demeanor, his laugh, his silence and gaze. He makes you wonder what he’s thinking about; his eyes demanding your attention. When you speak, his eyes dart around your face before focusing in on your eyes, never glancing away. That look makes you feel like he’s the sun and you’re the only one in his orbit. The mysteriousness surrounding him makes your mind wander off to not so appropriate places.

- - -

The plan was set in motion. You all met up at the bar to blow off steam from another shitty work week. You really wanted to let loose but in a way that meant no one would have to look after you. You decided to take a shot as soon as you walked up to the bar. You needed some liquid courage if you were going to be in Kyungsoo’s presence all night.

Once the shot was settling in your stomach, you and Sehun shuffled to grab a table while your friend, Jules, went to the bathroom. Kyungsoo had texted Sehun earlier saying he was going to be late. The three of you are having a great time, meaning, you all take a round of shots. I really am going to let loose, but only so much. Two shots so far. Pace yourself. Don’t embarrass yourself.

You all ordered some wings and beer, and just then, Kyungsoo walks through the door. His eyes widen as he scans the bar looking for us. When he catches sight of Sehun, he begins to walk over. You only know this since you’re the only one facing the doors at a table tucked away in a corner. You see his hurried but determined look as he takes the seat next to you. You introduce him to Jules and Sehun passes him a glass of beer he poured from the pitcher. As an awkward silence dove over the table, Sehun pipes up, “Here’s to breakups. A new beginning!”

Kyungsoo looks over to Sehun and smirks, clinks his glass with ours, sips, and begins to look sad.

“Man, I’m sorry! I’m trying to lighten the mood!” Sehun says as he rubs Kyungsoo on the shoulder.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer. The cut is still new, it needs to heal. Please don’t let me stop you from having fun,” Kyungsoo says as he leans in towards Sehun so other patrons don’t hear him.

“More alcohol then!” you say for some levity and top off Kyungsoo’s glass. He lifts his head up and smiles wholeheartedly as he raises his glass to his lips.

God, his plump lips. So soft, so distracting.

Luckily the night is filled with drunken anecdotes, silly parlor games, and unintended physical contact. The table is small and since getting drunk meant people, unintentionally or not, become more likely to gesticulate. The smell of Kyungsoo would waft its way beneath your nose and goosebumps cover your arms. You shake to bring warmth and feeling back to your body. Kyungsoo notices you shiver and leans in to inquire,

“Are you okay? Are you cold?” You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until you become overwhelmed by his scent, yet again. He breaks your stupor with his warmth, your skin now aflame.

”Oh yeah, just got the chills. Sorry to worry you,” you stammer out, shoving the glass of beer to your mouth to quickly guzzle the rest. So much for pacing yourself. You can still ease up, just order a glass of water. I feel like I’m already making a fool of myself in his presence. I can’t do this sober. Help me.

He leans away from you and watches as you slam down the glass to then excuse yourself from the table. You need a break and can’t wait for the server to appear again to ask for water. Sehun yells from the table as you leave. You don’t turn around, walking up to the bar.

”Hey, did you hear me? Are you okay? You look moody,” Sehun asked in the lowest, most serious tone you’ve ever heard from him. But you’re both drunk, who knows if that’s even true.

”Yeah, wh—,” you stop and order from the bartender.

”Water?! Yeah, there’s something wrong.”

”I swear, everything’s fine. I’m trying to pace myself. Not get too drunk. I don’t want to embarrass myself,” you say, grabbing the water, nodding and mouthing thank you.”

”That’s never mattered before. Really, do you feel okay?” Sehun asks. He grabs you by the shoulder, turning you around. He reaches his palm to your forehead,

”You feel a little war—“,

”Stop it. Seriously. I’m fine. Please,” you beg Sehun and then chuckle as if to lighten the past dialogue.

You all sit and drink into the night. You are sure to alternate with water, and continue to graze on leftover wings and celery. Everyone seems to be laughing and you suddenly remember something very important. You gesture across the table to Sehun, as if smoking a joint. He perks up and announces,

“Who’s down for going back to our place for blunts and crafts?”

The table erupts with laughter.

“Very discreet. Nice one,” you start to laugh loudly and notice Kyungsoo’s attention falling upon you, his light, saving the dying. Your face turns red when you feel his gaze and say,

”I’ll go pay the tab. I’ll meet you outside.”

“It’s my turn. I’ll get it this time,” Sehun says.

”Nope, I invited everyone, my treat.”

Everyone smiles toward you and says their thanks. Kyungsoo bows his head and thanks you earnestly. You will never forget the way his bangs fell into his eyes and then the way he ran his fingers through them to push it back. Your knees are weak as you walk up to pay.

You light a smoke as soon as you exit the building. Everyone but Jules was partaking. The group of you loiter for a bit longer until you decide to start walking in the direction of your and Sehun’s place.

- - -

Settling onto the couch with your freshly rolled joint, you begin to take out various craft items. Jules and Sehun are sitting on the floor next to the coffee table. You and Kyungsoo are sitting together on the couch. Everyone is grabbing at colored pencils, stickers, glue, and glitter.

You light up the joint and start the rotation. You pass it to Sehun on your left, he passes it to Jules, then Kyungsoo. He seems quite nervous and doesn’t drag very hard. He exhales and begins to cough. While still coughing, he passes you the joint. Oh my god, my lips are going to be where his lips were. I can’t hold it in. I’m going to lose it.

You look up at Kyungsoo and take the joint, careful not to linger or touch his hand. Just then, Sehun pipes up,

“I’m gonna make something cute for my mom!”

“I didn’t realize you were still in kindergarten,” Jules says.

“Hey, you’re never too old to love your mom or to give her something handmade,” Sehun says back, still buzzed. He didn’t really care about other peoples’ opinions, especially when it came to his mom. It was all in loving jest, everyone still concentrating on what they were going to create.

You take a nice, long drag and finally exhale, careful not to blow it towards anyone. This pause made you look over to Kyungsoo, diligently creating a little pocket notepad. He used some thread to join some paper, and now he is placing washi tape on each page as a border. No matter what he is doing, it gives you the chills. He’s just quietly working and not to mention tidying up the supplies as he goes, careful to put items back in their place.

The four of you are getting a bit tired after all the revelry. You stand and ask if anyone would like a drink. You definitely needed water since weed always gives you cottonmouth. Once you return, you set down the water glasses and get comfortable on your spot on the couch. Sehun and Jules decide to sit on the loveseat that was perpendicular to the sofa you and Kyungsoo occupied. You decide on a funny show that everyone has seen a million times.

While resting your head on the armrest with a blanket covering your feet, you comment on a funny joke in the show. This rouses everyone to repeat their favorite jokes from the show. By god, you have never heard Kyungsoo speak so much at once, and you could get used to it. His low timbre, his rich and deep voice, so soothing, yet so sexy. You grab your phone while Jules is telling her favorite joke, and send a funny gif to Sehun. Once he hears his phone vibrate, he picks it up to look and immediately starts laughing.

“What's so funny?” Jules asks.

“Just a funny gif. I’ll send it to you,” Sehun replies.

“Hey, I want to see!” Kyungsoo interrupts. He looks over to you, since he’s far from everyone else and asks you to send it to him.

“I don’t have your number,” you say meekly.

Shit, I am getting his number. I can’t believe this. Just be cool.

Now that everyone was in on the joke, silence returns.

Everyone seemed to be on a good mix of high and drunk. Silly, sloppy, bursts of laughter, and moments of silence. With that, you feel like you’re the only one who is hiding something. That need within you is lurking, which could cause you to act on it, like you were being split into two opposing directions. You’re trying hard to ease the tension by pressing your thighs together.

Why does weed make me supremely horny? My standard is being regular horny, but weed takes it up ten notches. Holy hell.

More drunken antics ensue. Being this needy right now is stressing you out. You rise from the couch announcing to the room,

”I’m headed out for a cigarette. Wanna join?”

”Oh! Me!” Sehun jumps up while heading to put on his cardigan.

”Yes. I really need one,” Kyungsoo says quietly.

”I’ll just be here. With all the booze, drugs, and glitter. Having way more fun than you three!” Jules chimes in sarcastically, chuckling to herself as you exit onto the balcony.

With another person out here, your shoulders are squished in between Sehun and Kyungsoo. As you’re all smoking out in the crisp and clear night, Sehun begins telling Kyungsoo an inside joke. Something about how one of their coworkers has horrible body odor. They both chuckle and you are silent, off in your own land; a land of hands touching, and lips meeting. Your elbow slips from the railing and hits Kyungsoo’s arm. He looks over at you and grazes your arm, he pulls back immediately,

”I’m sorry. My fault,” he ekes out hesitantly.

“Shit, I’m sorry. My arm slipped. Totally my bad,” you answer.

”Well, I don’t have cooties,” Kyungsoo jokes.

“See what I mean? I told you he was quiet but funny!” Sehun begins laughing hysterically at Kyungsoo’s burn.

While Sehun’s head is bobbing around from laughing, you glance over at Kyungsoo and he mouths quietly to you, "I'm sorry,” and bows his head.

You’re not sure why he’s saying sorry. You both turn to look out at the night skyline, continuing your cigarettes. Again, a silence takes hold and you begin to feel Kyungsoo’s body warmth since he is pressed closely to you. There’s really something about being in the presence of a person like him. It’s hard to describe. It takes hold of all rationality; your body, your will power.

Having gone back inside to get cozy, Jules calls it a night.

”It’s been great. I will cherish my glitter picture frame for all time. Nice to meet you, Kyungsoo. See you jerks later,” she says and closes the door behind her.

Kyungsoo also gets up, feeling a bit awkward now that he is the only guest left. Hoping not to stay past his welcome. He extends his thanks and turns to leave before adding,

”Have a good night. It was fun. And thank you again. See you at work, Sehun.”

Sehun gives a thumbs up and laughs, Kyungsoo copying him. His hearty laughter is also something else. The way it deeply vibrates right down to your pussy.

You and Sehun stay up longer on the couch watching shows until you start yawning and Sehun says,

”I’m out. I can’t. I’m hittin’ the hay.”

”I can’t get up. Too comfy. Night night,” you mumble into the blanket with your eyes closed.

Maybe if you hadn’t gone to bed horny this wouldn’t have happened. None of it, but it starts with you dreaming of Kyungsoo once you've fallen asleep…

His fingers lightly graze your cheek. You’re standing on the threshold of your bedroom. He drags his fingers down around your neck to bring your lips to his. You shrink into the kiss, unsure of how this started. You realize the feeling of his full lips on yours is euphoric. You lean into his kiss, and place both palms on his broad shoulders.

He begins to walk you backwards toward your bed. You resist his force which causes him to ease up and bring his mouth back to yours. He lifts your jaw to deepen the kiss and you both open your mouths, tongues gliding in unison. You let out a slight whimper at the feeling of his tongue on yours, the saliva, his hands on your body. He pauses to open his eyes and removes his lips from yours, asking,

”Are you okay? Please tell me if you’re not. Promise?”

Still in shock with Kyungsoo’s saliva on your lips, you answer,

”Yes. I need you. I promise.”

He steps back, holding your cheeks up toward his gaze. It’s as if he’s trying to get the right lighting to see every part of you. Trying to swallow you whole starting with his eyes, then his lips. You really can’t do this anymore, and you smash your face into his. You do this with so much fervor that your teeth clink together as you rush to put your tongue in his mouth. You start sucking on his bottom lip and then bite it while pulling down a bit. Kyungsoo grunts so deeply that your pussy begins to leak.

You place your hands under his shirt to feel his body, which causes him to shiver. He presses his lips harder into yours and places his hands on your ass. He squeezes and you moan into his mouth. His fingers trace up the small of your back to your rib cage, ending with both palms groping your breasts. You’re moaning more and even louder as he leans you back onto your bed.

His hand goes up your shorts and rubs over the waistband of your underwear. You stretch out and moan when his fingers dips lower to rub over your pussy. You start to writhe and he watches your every movement, even when your eyes roll back into your head. He makes you feel like the hottest person alive, his every move and thought dedicated to you and your pleasure. He slips two fingers under your panties and when he reaches your bare pussy, you wake up.

You awake to a horrible empty feeling, like there is a hole or a missing piece. You start to replay the dream over and over in your head. You’ve never had a wet dream quite like this, it was too real. It was overwhelming, your body aching while imagining the feeling of his hands on you. Your thighs rub together and there is a familiar feeling of wetness. You reach into your underwear and flick a finger through your slit. Before reaching beyond, your labia was covered in slick.

You place two fingers to your clit and start rubbing, spreading your wetness farther. You moan softly as you now begin to pinch your nipple from under your shirt. You spread your thighs apart and gyrate your hips from beneath the blanket. Your mind is rewinding and slowing down parts of your dream while loving the feeling of your own touch.

A small floor creak gives away a watcher. You snap up from the couch, leaving your bottom half still covered by the blanket. You try to adjust your vision to look beyond the dark hallway corner. You see Sehun’s outline. He steps out into the light of the living room. His face is flush and you see he has a hard-on beneath his boxer briefs. Your eyes are wide as you yank the blanket to cover your upper half.

“Please continue,” Sehun says in a hushed tone.

”What? Am I dreaming again?” You ask, while Sehun is approaching you on the couch.

“Stop. What do you think is going to happen?” Sehun says, responding to a question with a question.

You really had no idea what was happening or what Sehun was going to do next but your pulsing pussy won out over self control.

He sat gently on the other end of the couch, resting against the back, his head turning to look at you. Your toes touch his thighs and he begins to rub himself over his underwear. Starting intently at you.

“Let’s help each other out. No weirdness. Just watching, no touching,” Sehun says as he reaches to grip his painfully hard cock.

This feels surreal, having Sehun’s bare cock spring up while sitting just feet away. You feel taken aback by these events, not knowing how to respond. Sehun adds,

“Please. I heard you and saw you. I know you need it.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him, trying not to focus too long on his dick.

“You don’t have to be ashamed. I know you haven’t been with anyone in a long time. I heard your moans. I came out to see you touching yourself. I heard how wet you are.

You want to cower under the blanket and go back to sleep, but everything Sehun said was true.

“Will this ruin what we have?” you ask sincerely.

“You don’t have to show me anything. But now you’ve seen my dick. No big deal right?”

“Well, since you put it that way, all right.” you thoughtlessly reply and your hands go back under your pajamas.

You close your eyes and begin, again, to imagine Kyungsoo’s lips and hands. The way he ardently crashed his face into yours. The way he guided you to your bed, the way he overtook you and leaned over your body, taking in every minute detail.

Your eyes open to witness Sehun cranking away on his dick. Looking over toward you every now and again, but mostly he has his head back and eyes closed. Since he doesn’t seem to be fazed by what is transpiring, you begin to pinch your clit which causes a yelp to fall out of your mouth. Sehun turns his head slightly, barely opening his eyes, and grunts. The creases of a smirk are hardly visible.

Once you brush off the awkwardness, you travel deep within your reverie. You begin to push two of your fingers inside your hot pussy. You were already close to cumming after you woke up from the dream, but now you are at the precipice. One more flash of Kyungsoo’s delicate hands gripping your waist, and you finally orgasm. Your hand is stuck between your tightly closed thighs while your hips thrust upward, finally slowing once you come down. While you’re trying to catch your breath and you open your eyes again only to remember Sehun is jerking off. You moaning through your orgasm seems to cause Sehun to cum, finally ejaculating into his hand. He takes a deep breath, puts his shrinking cock back inside his underwear and goes to the sink to wash his hands. He returns with a damp paper towel for you to which you shyly accept.

“I hope this was okay. Not so bad, right?” Sehun asks while sitting back down on the sofa.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s forget this happened and go back to normal,” you confess.

“Yes, let’s pretend we were having a dream. Especially the one you were having when I came out to hear you moaning and writhing in your sleep.”

“Exactly. Just a dream,” you say and finally move to get up off the couch to take a shower.

“What were you dreaming about?” Sehun asks as you disappear down the hall.

“It was a celebrity. Don’t worry,” you answer back.

- - -

After having showered, you’re in your room finding something to wear. You want to listen to some music while doing so, then after, you might tidy your room up a bit. You grab your phone and as soon as you do you see a text from Kyungsoo,

‘Thanks again for last night, it was fun.’

‘Care to hang out again soon?’

Your face is flush and your heart feels as if it might implode. Your fingers shake as you try to type a response. Not sure what to say, you finally decide on a gif of a sitcom character giving the thumbs up.

Kyungsoo barely spoke last night but sending two texts in quick succession was surprising. Not sure what kind of texter you expected him to be, but this wasn’t close. The texts were to the point, no emojis or gifs, so it definitely feels like it’s in the realm of possibility that Kyungsoo did author these texts. You never expected he’d be the one to text you first, or to text you at all. Maybe he had feigned wanting to see the gif and thought this was his way of getting your number. Maybe Kyungsoo wanted to keep it from Sehun by not asking him directly for it. This is what happens to your thoughts when you suddenly have the most handsome and polite man texting you about wanting to hang out. Over analyzing every facet of each second in your life is your forte. You’re comfortable in your own brain but these thoughts can make you anxious and depressed.

Your phone vibrates again with Kyungsoo sending a link to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall eatery. You click and scroll through photos with your stomach grumbling along the way. You type a salivating emoji back to him. He responds with,

’This place is delicious. I know the family who runs it.’

He wasn’t leading or asking you again if you would accept or deny the invitation. Your mind reels with possible replies. Should you go? What would Sehun think if he found out? He was trying to set you and Kyungsoo up before you even met him, so maybe, he would be fine with it. He even told you he noticed you were in a sexual drought. But also this could be nothing or turn into nothing. Maybe Kyungsoo wasn’t interested in a physical relationship with you. Maybe he really just wants to be friends. There your mind goes again with every hypothetical known in the universe.

’Looks great! You’ll have to tell me what you recommend. How’s Friday night?’

It wasn’t long until Kyungsoo replied,

’Perfect. I can pick you up. I know it’s far from your apartment.’

Fuck, I’m going to be getting into a car with him. His car. And how is he so considerate and thoughtful?

’It’s a plan! See you then,’ and you added a smiling face with smiling eyes emoji. The one with the rosy cheeks.

As you turn around to finish dressing you hear a knock on the door. Your giddiness and beaming smile fade and your shoulders sink. You remember what transpired out in the living room with Sehun. You rush to put your clothes on and shout,

”Just a minute! Getting dressed!

You open the door as your arm straightens through the sleeve of your shirt. You really don’t want to make things awkward, remembering what Sehun said. We fucking came together on the couch! How can this not be awkward! You look up at him and ask,

”Hey, yeah, what’s up?” You step sideways making room for him to enter.

”I wanted to apologize for earlier. I was not thinking with my brain. I mean, after I heard you then saw you, that was it,” he says as he takes a seat on your bed.

”I agreed to it. There’s no need to be sorry. Since we’ve acknowledged this, let’s forget it, like you said,” you reply, standing in front of your open door, your hand gripping the handle.

”Okay, but please let’s go back, starting now,” Sehun adds.

”Deal. Forgotten. I’m hungry and I need to get high,” you say while rubbing your stomach.

”Great minds, they say!” Sehun says excitedly.

How in the hell did you weave yourself such an awfully tangled web?

———

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

[spliffymae]

TOUCH ME.

synopsis: dabi hates being touched—always has. he hates people touching him. he hates people in general. but there’s something about the cute doctor in his apartment building…who just so happens to be his ex.

⚠️exboyfriend!dabi, swearing, smut, dabi got a dick piercing, pet names (doll, babe, angel…), mentions of drug use, slight pain kink if you squint, aggressive sex, possessive!dabi, reader and dabi are toxic, reader has no backbone when it comes to dabi (sorry not sorry😭) MINORS DNI ! 18+

kio’s notes - i need to catch up on mha but it is so hard to watch anime after reading/writing fics 😭 i can’t watch it the same as i used to.

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

there was this annoying tune stuck in your head. you couldn’t tell from where but it was one of those tunes you couldn’t help but hum to yourself. the title of the song, who sung it, it’s significance—it all was a blur in your brain.

so as you rummaged in the cabinet under your sink, you hummed the soon to be dreadful tune as you searched for the white tin first aid kid you had.

you could hear the groans coming from your living room, but you drowned them out with the tune as you moved stuff around the cabinet to get the kit.

“doll! any time you want to join’ll be great!” you heard dabi cry from the other room, his voice strained. you rolled your eyes at his impatience. you literally stepped away from him for like two minutes. it wasn’t like he was dying.

“coming, coming.” you mumbled more to yourself than him. you were tired, it was late, and yet here you were getting ready to patch up one of your rudest and most annoying clients.

as your sock clad feet padded back to the living room, you could hear dabi’s winces and groans. “here’s what i don’t understand,” you started once you got in his eyesight, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. he was manspread on your couch, right hand putting pressure on his left shoulder. he had gotten a large gash on his shoulder, and had popped his staple stitches.

“there is a perfectly good, twenty-four-hour clinic for you villainous beings, and yet you come to me. even though i charge double what the clinic does.” you criticize, smacking his hand away so you can look at the wound. you had given him a cold rag and the instruction to apply pressure while you searched for the med kit.

the bleeding had calmed down, and allowed you to properly disinfect the wound. dabi had winced as you cleaned him, but it fell on deaf ears. “easy, doll. not like i’m invincible to the feeling.”

he grabbed your wrist to stop you. the cotton pad soaked in anti-bacteria liquid was now stained with his blood. you looked at him with tired eyes. you wanted to make this as quick and efficient as possible so he could leave.

“be gentle with me, pretty. took a big hit tonight.” he let out a grunt as he tried to straighten up his seat.

you shrugged, not caring, “your fault.” you mumbled, taking up a new cotton ball and soaking it in the liquid before cleaning his cut again. you pushed harder into the wound, getting dabi to groan and smack your hand away.

“fuck’s sake, (y/n). just because it’s purple doesn’t mean i lost feeling! the shit hurts!” he had narrowed his eyes at you, jaw clenched and pissed.

“listen, it’s late and you came in unannounced, without so much as a heads up. you got your blood on my carpet and couch pillow…so clearly we’re not having consideration for each other.” you were sarcastic, your tone indicating that he had pushed your patience to your limit in the couple minutes you had spent mending his wound.

“you are more than welcome to get out and go to your underground villain clinic.” you sat back to give him space, an indication you were one step away from just going back to sleep and leaving him to solve his problem on his own. you were already dressed the part—a black oversized tee with nothing but your panties underneath. orange knee high fuzzy socks and your all might bonnet. you were prepared to have a personal night-in.

frankly, had dabi been courteous enough to send you a text to see if you were even home, you would be a lot nicer. but polite was not dabi.

no, sliding your bedroom window up and coming into your room unannounced was dabi. he climbed the fire escape of your building until he got to your room, about two stories up from the ground. his shoes were muddy, but he didn’t care as he stepped onto your plush white rug, his crimson blood flowing down his arm and dropping at his fingers. the white of the faux fur was hues of red and pink now. your brown hardwood floors showed the trail he walked when leaving your room to the couch.

“bro, i have a friggin door!” you exclaimed. he had come in during your binge watching, interrupting the finale of the show you had put two months into watching. the giant bowl of popcorn you had now grew stale as it sat on your counter.

dabi didn’t say anything. he bit back the rude comment that lied on his tongue. he could’ve gone to the clinic. twice had offered to take him, but he declined. he wanted to come to you. wanted you to make him better.

“m’good right here, angel.” his lips formed a smirk. he was still breathing hard, still in pain—probably more now that the adrenaline he had died down. his way of letting you know he would ease up and take the pain without complaining.

you nodded and continued to clean. this time, to prevent him from speaking, you hummed the tune to distract yourself.

“fuck that song.” dabi groaned, throwing his head back.

your ears perked up. maybe now you could finally figure out the name of the song. “what’s it called again? s’been stuck in my head all day.” you asked him. if he was going to be taking up your night the least he could do is provide relief to you, having been stuck with the tune all day and night.

“some song by the weeknd. i think it’s called acquainted or some dumb name like that.”

you smiled, “didn’t take you for a weeknd listener.”

back when you two were dating, dabi’s music interest was rock, metal—what anyone who looked at him thought he listened to. he also had a few trap, hip hop and old school gangsta rap artists in his rotation, but stayed away from rnb.

you on the other hand, were like if erykah badu, jasmine sullivan, and jhene aiko had a baby. you were a soul child at heart and we’re always listening to “some rnb song” as dabi would call it. he really would only listen to rnb if he were with you. never on his own. so for him to know the song and it to be an rnb song, you were impressed.

dabi chuckled. you expected a cute comment to follow, you weren’t going to lie. maybe something like ‘you were always listening so i gave him a try’ or along those lines.

but what you got instead was completely uncalled for.

“fucked a girl to it a couple weeks ago. she had a solid playlist.” he laughed to himself with a smug smirk on his face.

and instantly, at the mention of him being with someone else, your mood changed. was it jealousy? was it anger? sadness?

whatever it was, it caused you to take up the anti-bacteria bottle and squeeze the liquid right into his wound. dabi jolted, the stinging sensation was strong and he swore he heard his body start to fizz at the reaction.

“motherfucker!” he groaned, jumping up from the couch. his eyes were closed shut and he hissed, clenching his jaw to grit through the pain. he was feeling dizzy from it, and his body started to get hot.

you were satisfied, on the outside. but on the inside you felt a crack in your heart. but you masked it. you stood up from the table, the tin that was on your lap now in your hand. you threw it on the couch lazily. “clean your fucking self up.” you mumbled.

the plan was to walk away from him. to go back to your room and retreat under the covers until you heard him slam your door as he left. that’s what you decided would happen, what you would do. but in typical dabi fashion, he did the opposite.

he grabbed your wrist with his good hand and spun you around to face him. “why the fuck would you do that?!”

“why the hell are you fucking other bitches?!” you spat back.

lord, it was two-thirty in the morning and you were yelling at a man who had his upper body’s skin basically torn open. the bleeding had stopped, but he still needed to be patched up. stitches replaced.

dabi snorted, “that’s what that was for? you’re jealous? c’mon babe,” he pulled you closer, “would it make you feel better if i said her pussy wasn’t as good as yours? didn’t make me cum as fast? didn’t suck me in just how i like? hmm?” he tapped your chin to further his patronizing.

you sucked your teeth, trying to move from his hold but he only gripped onto your jaw tighter. you weren’t stronger than him, and he knew this. so you just did what you knew how and that was pout and stay quiet.

“aww, not you pouting. what? want me to compare and contrast, doll?…you know i will.” he was having fun with you, with your envy and anger. he didn’t plan to tell you about the one night stand. it wasn’t anything serious to him, really. he had been drunk at a bar with you on his mind and the opportunity to release the sexual frustration he felt presented itself. you weren’t supposed to find out, but hey, shit gets out.

“get the fuck off me.” you spoke through gritted teeth, but he only laughed as a response.

“finish patching me back up and i’ll be out of your way. physically, at least.. that beautiful mind’ll always be thinking of me, unfortunately.” he was smug, he felt cocky. you could mask the anger in your face all you wanted, but he saw the glint in your eyes. the way all the light of opportunity seemed to leave them with his revelation. you were pissed, he knew.

“ask your other bitch to do it.”

“mm, nah, i rather you do it. tender touch, lover’s hand, s’all.” he shrugged. he was playing games with you, testing you. the question was how far was he going to take this. what was his end goal?

he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, smiling when you instinctively tilted your head upward. “c’mon doll, stitch me back up so i can show you my utmost appreciation…want you to touch me.”

the music did little to cover the noise in your living room.

“mhm, just what i thought. poor baby missed me.” dabi cooed into your ear with the slyest smirk on his lips as his tip pushed past your wet folds. he was speaking to your cunt, not you.

you gasped at the stretch. you haven’t felt him inside in so long, the feeling both familiar and strange. “dabi,” your voice cracked from above him, but he didn’t care.

you were foolish enough to continue with patching him up. giving him absorbable sutures and re-stapling his skin. dumb enough to hand him a glass of water and tylenol for the pain, and a rolled blunt to take his mind off it.

you should feel dumb. dumb for letting him back inside, your apartment and your body. but here you were, straddling his lap in only your oversized shirt, with your panties pushed to the side as he eased you onto his cock. you could feel all of him, the prominent vein on the underside, his bulbous head at your cervix. his jacobs ladder piercing aiding the pleasurable burn of your walls being stretched. it had been too long without him, but now in this position, you felt ecstasy.

“d-dabi.” you choked out. your bodies were pressed against one another, your hand in his hair and grabbing at the roots. he didn’t care, he was too high (off the feeling of you and the weed) to care.

your walls hugged him just as he remembered, sucking him in snug and tight like he loved. fuck, he missed your pussy like crazy.

“oh shit, doll. m‘feeling like cummin’ already and you didn’t even do shit. fuckin’ slut.” he bit his lip once he was fully bottomed out.

you took that as a sign to start, and began bouncing, on your tippy toes with your arms around the back of the sofa.

dabi smiled, satisfaction radiating off him, “look at you-hah—so pretty f’me baby. riding me so good, just how i like it. always taking care of me.” he only had one good hand, and used it to squeeze your waist as you bounced on him, channeling your inner megan thee stallion.

you were a choked up mess, moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you fucked yourself onto dabi’s cock. he was satisfied on being used by you. treating him like nothing just to get off. least you could do, really. after the many times he’s done you wrong.

he couldn’t explain it, the way fighting was always part of his plan to come back to you. what were you two if not a concoction of chaos and torment to one another? you wanted him to hear your name and roll his eyes in annoyance, but have his heart skip a beat with anticipation. he wanted the sight of his large frame towering over your own to leave a mess in your underwear and burn into your memory forever.

the word was toxic, and you both knew it, but didn’t read too much into it. wasn’t it enough to just acknowledge it?

dabi began to match his thrusts with your bounces. it brought him deeper inside of you. feeling like he was in your stomach. like you were full of him. he squeezed your neck, black painted nails digging into your skin.

“d-dabi.” you hit his shoulder as you struggle to catch your breath. he didn’t want to choke you unconscious, but he did want to limit your airway to maximize your pleasure.

he was so drunk off you, his moans growing louder against your ear, “fuck you, slut. so good for me. that’s what you wanna hear baby? huh? that this is all i need? you are all i need?”

when you were together, he struggled with intimate words. he loved you, he knew. he fucked you like it, you knew. but he couldn’t communicate his feelings outside of a sexual atmosphere. sex became his outlet—pain, anger, love…he gave it all to sex.

you threw your head back, eyes closed and mouth open but nothing came out. you had no words, no sound—nothing.

dabi squinted at the sight. he never truly could get over how precious you looked dumb off his cock. it had to be his top three favourite looks on your face. the other two being when you’re mad and after he tell you he loves you.

there was nothing in your head except him. all of him. his body, his voice, the way he touched you. his stitches grazing your skin and hands rough from fighting. there was a naturally smoky smell he carried—due to him using his quirk excessively. but you found over time it would mix with his cologne, and be the one scent to give you infinite comfort. dabi was in connection with all five of your senses, and in his mind, it was about time.

he brought your head back to face straight, forehead against his as his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss. there was no need to fight for dominance. he had it, you both knew.

you don’t know how you kept riding him this long. your thighs felt like they were on fire. they were burning. your grip on the back of the sofa tightened, using it to help you continue riding dabi to his orgasm.

“babe, i’m cumming. gonna come in this pussy, my pussy. fuckin ruin you for anyone else. y’hear me?” his grip went back to your jaw, his index finger and thumb keeping your mouth opened. it was a pain you found different, but one you were okay with.

you cut your eye at him, the hatred you had somehow swirling in the pits of your stomach alongside the butterflies he gave you.

“i-i” you tried to speak, but he taunted you by moving your jaw. you could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten as he edged himself, prolonging his end as to not come before you.

you didn’t want to cum until you said what you wanted to say, but he kept his hand in place, not budging when you grabbed his wrist to move it.

it was almost like a reflex, the way your right hand let go of the sofa and moved to his shoulder below, digging your nails into his stitched up wound. he screamed, the sudden feeling overwhelming his concentration and forcing his orgasm. his hand moved off your jaw, going to your back and pulling your body flush against him.

“i hate you.” you say just as you climax, dabi rubbing circles onto your clit. you two ride your highs out together, him leaving opened mouth kisses along your neck and leaving behind hickies. you tasted of salt, smelled of sex, but he didn’t care. you were delicious.

you looked up to the ceiling, eyes shut and mind racing with what just took place. there was this feeling in your chest. a feeling of regret, disappointment, but also…one of peace. contentment?

dabi pulled away from your neck and looked up at you. his pupils were blown and eyelids low. you hated him. you hated the way he looked so fucked out.

he took up your hand that was at your side and brought it to his cheek. you cupped it, feeling the duality of the smooth and rough skin. his hold on your wrist was warm, tight. he brought your red palm to his lips, stained by his dry blood, and kissed it.

you hated him. hated how he held you close so you wouldn’t get up. how he grabbed a blanket to throw over the two of you.

“i really fucking hate you.” you yawned. your eyes met once again. this time dabi smiling at you as he mumbled,

“love you too, pretty.”

[asirensrage]

Saudade - Chapter 10

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: Thank you all so much for reading this and for your comments. They mean the world to me. I'm so glad you're enjoying this. Please let me know what you think about this chapter. I'd love to hear your theories about what's going to happen. 😏

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

She doesn’t sleep.

How can she when she has to sort through the shit in her head? She doesn’t regret her choice to threaten Taiju. He nearly killed Takemichi and she’s not prepared to let him die, now or in the future. She’s already planned to do whatever it takes to keep him alive. Accepting Toman’s help would be another shackle around her neck. She’d be subjected to the orders of Mikey and the other leaders…including Kisaki. On her own she would have less protection, but she’d be free to make her own choices. 

She ignores the texts that make her phone buzz and instead buries herself in her blankets. It would be easier if she didn’t give a shit about her brother, but Takemichi is the only one she has. He’s the only one who knows she doesn’t really belong here and that…he’s the only one who actually sees her. She has to protect that. 

🏍️

By the next morning, the bruise on her face is mostly yellow with some splotches of red, but the one on her side where she took the direct hit was a mix of red, dark blues and purple. It is a bit hard to see. It hurts like hell though now. The lack of sleep didn’t help, nor did the call demanding her presence at a meeting she definitely didn’t belong at. She was also warned not to bring her roller blades which felt like a punishment already. 

“What happened to you?” Takemichi cries out the moment he sees her. 

“A funny thing happened on the way to the market…” she says lightly, hoping she could avoid telling him. Considering the order she received to follow her brother to the meeting, it isn’t likely. “I met the Black Dragon giant last night.”

Takemichi drops the cup he’s holding in shock before darting over to her. “Are you alright?! Did he do this?! Was it because of me?”

She winces and steps out of his hold, shoving his hands down so he stops touching her face. “Knock it off. I’m fine. I just had something to tell him.”

“What could you possibly need to tell the leader of the Black Dragons?” he asks, looking at her incredulously. 

“That if he ever touches my family again, I’ll kill him.” 

Her brother’s mouth drops open, staring at her in shock. “What?!”

She ignores him, grabbing something to eat for breakfast. She gets enough to make some for her brother as well. She goes through the motions of cooking, keeping an eye out for their parents. None of them are around, or if they are, they’re avoiding them. It feels weird. Parents should be more invested in her opinion. Or maybe that’s just what she was used to. 

“Takara, tell me you didn’t threaten that monster!”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Taka!”

“Take!” she quips back. “Hurry up and eat. I gotta go with you to your meeting because of this,” she motions to her face. 

“You’re like five feet tall! He’s ginormous! He could kill you, Takara! He wanted to kill me!”

“Yeah, but you’re the idiot who doesn’t know how to duck.” 

“What?!”

🏍️

They continue to go back and forth, heading to meet the others until Takemichi stops her to admit that she’s not the only one who did something without thinking last night. 

“You told Chifuyu?!”

“I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out and then the next thing I knew, I was saying everything!” 

“And he believed you?”

“Yeah, he said it made sense. That it was like I was two different people at times.” 

She falls silent. It was true. The Takemichi standing before her now is familiar and comfortable. It’s the one who actually feels like her brother. His present self that returns when he leaves back to the future…it doesn’t feel the same. 

“This will be good,” Takemichi says. “Another person on our side! Who can help me.”

The way he says it rankles, digging into an old wound when it sounds like she’s not good enough. She swallows the feeling back, knowing her brother is an idiot and probably didn’t mean the way it sounds. “Sure.” 

“On the inside,” he says quickly as if he realizes he made a mistake. “With Toman.”

She sighs. “I get it, Takemichi.” Takara shoves her hands in her pockets and continues to walk, her brother following quickly behind. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Are you sure? I really didn’t mean that you can’t help me! I just meant that having someone in the gang who knows the people better than either of us do…”

She tunes him out. This Takemichi doesn’t know that she’s been dragged into a friendship with Draken and Mikey. He doesn’t know that Hanma has hounded her for her attention and that there’s a bet out there to sleep with her. It’s driving in the reminder that she’s alone in this world, that she doesn’t belong here. 

Takara hasn’t made friends outside of being adopted by her brother’s friends. Her parents here have only acknowledged her when she was arrested after trying to save Baji. The only reason she’s not failing school is because it was driven into her as a child that failure was not an option. All she has is Takemichi and the sports she keeps telling herself she’ll join again but she hasn’t because it’s not the same. She doesn’t have anyone telling her she needs to do something. She’s left to her own devices and she’s floundering. 

🏍️

The only ones who don’t look surprised to see her when she shows up at the executive meeting are Mikey and Draken. Hanma stands instantly, gaze darkening as he takes in the bruise on her face but he’s prevented from heading towards her both by Kisaki’s hand on his arm and Mikey calling her forward. 

She straightens her shoulders, ignoring the looks of concern she’s getting from Mitsuya and his vice-captain she knows she’s met before, and the confusion from the others she doesn’t completely recognize. 

Mikey moves forward from where he’s sitting, perched above the rest like a king on his throne. He leans down, face turning as he inspects the damage. “It’s not that bad.”

Draken has his arms crossed, watching them. “Lift up your shirt.”

“Hey!” Takemichi protests. “That’s my sister!”

“Not like that!” he shouts back, sounding annoyed at the accusation. “She’s injured.”

She glares over at Draken but he stares back, unimpressed. She exhales sharply as she lifts up the side of the shirt she’s wearing, trying not to wince at the pain the motion creates. 

Someone swears. 

“Takara!” her brother cries out. “You said you were fine!”

“I am fine!” She jolts to the side when Mikey pokes her bruise. “Ow!” She swipes at his hand, forcing it down instantly. “Stop that!” 

He moves back to his perch. “What happened?” 

“You mean Draken didn’t tell you?”

“I want to hear it from you. Everyone here should.” 

“Your choice will impact ours,” Draken says, reminding her of what’s coming. 

She can practically feel Hanma’s gaze burning into her back. “Fine. I came home yesterday to find my brother beaten to hell. He told me what happened. I…picked up my bat and left, tracking the giant asshole down, which wasn’t hard by the way,” she admits. “I rolled up on him, broke my bat across his head and gave him a warning that if he ever touched my brother again, I’d kill him.” 

There’s a moment of silence as her words are processed. Someone behind her laughs. 

“The bruises are because he managed to hit me once on the side. I crashed into a wall,” she motions to her face. 

“You’re saying you hit Taiju Shiba?” She looks back to see that the one who asked was one of the guys she doesn’t recognize with blond hair. 

“Princess does pack a strong hit,” Hanma grins. “Especially with a weapon.”

“It’s sports equipment,” Takara says. “And yeah, I hit him.” 

“You’re…tiny.”

“No shit.” She turns back to Mikey. “I ran into Draken after. I didn’t know about the rules or anything like that. He told me I gotta choose which direction I want to go in after that.”

“What?” Takemichi interrupts. “What choice?”

She ignores her brother.

“Did you?” Draken asks. 

“Yeah,” Takara nods. It was an easy one when it came down to it. “I’ll remain unaffliated with Toman.”

“You’re sure?” Draken asks, looking between her and Mikey who hasn’t looked away from her. “You know what that means.” 

“Yeah. No protection but it’s fine.”

“It’s fucking stupid!” She rolls her eyes at Hanma’s voice and doesn’t bother to turn to look at him. “Come on, princess!”

“I don’t need your opinion,” she snaps, glancing back at him. 

He scowls darkly. “What? You think the fucking Haitanis are going to protect you?”

“Haitani?” Multiple people ask, a mixture of confusion and accusation. 

“You running with another gang?” the blond one she doesn’t know asks. It sounds more like an accusation. 

“I’m not running with any gang,” Takara says, looking back at him in confusion. “I went to a rink and they found me. They just wanted to talk,” she shrugs. 

“About what?” the blond asks before taking a step towards her.

“Mucho!” Draken snaps. “She’s not a traitor.”

“Can’t betray anything I’m not a part of,” Takara adds. She rocks back on her heels slightly, wishing she was wearing her skates. Despite the confidence she has in her brother having her back, he’s a terrible fighter and she’s starting to feel cornered. 

“Are you sure?” Mikey asks, eyes meeting hers as he ignores the others. He’s steadfast as he waits, exuding confidence as he acts as the leader he is. It’s such a contrast to how she’s seen him when it’s just her and Draken. 

Takara nods. “I thought about the pros and cons last night. I’d rather be free and face the consequences. No offence.”

“None taken. Wait outside.” 

She nods again and leaves, ignoring the stares that watch her go. She can practically feel both Hanma and Takemichi wanting to say something. It’s a miracle her brother doesn’t.   

🏍️

She makes her way outside, sitting down in the dirt and leaning back against one of the walls. Her legs ache like she needs to stretch but the pain of her side and face are enough to ignore it.

Looking back, it was a bad idea to go after the giant. Still, she couldn’t get over her anger that led to her lashing out. Takemichi faced not only death now in the future but incarceration as well. He refused to tell her where she was, only that they weren’t close, and her day earlier with Ran and Rindou had been ruined by Hanma’s arrival. Mainly because of the possessive way he spoke about her to them and the fact that she knew it was only going to get worse if she enacted her plan. 

She leans back and closes her eyes, letting out a sigh. She wants to be back on the ice, a hockey stick in her hand and…and..she wants her family back. Her friends. She wants to not have to worry that her brother is going to die and there’s nothing she can do about it. She wants…to be able to remember what they look like. In detail. She can remember her brothers, her mother and father, but her friends' faces are slipping away. When she thinks of her friends, she only thinks of the people she knows here. 

A lump grows in her throat and she takes a deep breath, swallowing it back. It’s a constant ache that leaves her feeling empty and the worst part is she knows something is missing but she doesn’t know what it is. It’s like the way she likes things now she knows she didn’t before, not who she used to be. 

If she’s losing pieces of herself…what is she left with? Is she anyone except Takemichi’s sister? 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She jolts in surprise, looking up to see Hanma storming towards her. The grief slips to the back of her mind as she forces herself to her feet to face off. “The fuck do you want?” she snarls back, instantly on guard. She sees the others coming out of the shack they had their meeting in, but they’re all moving slower than Hanma and she doesn’t see her brother yet. 

He moves closer as if he can force her back and corner her. 

She digs her metaphorical feet in and doesn’t back down. He’s not the first to attempt to cow her into submission with his size and he won’t be the last. “What the fuck do you want?” she repeats, slower this time, sharpening her words to a point as she glares up at him. 

“Why didn’t you come to me for help?”

“Why would I?” She asks, almost genuinely curious. “We’re not fucking friends, Hanma, and in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t want you around.”

“I would have helped you, princess,” he says, voice slightly softer than before as he stares down at her. Takara stares back, confused at the insistence and the way he’s looking at her. 

“Fuck off, I don’t need help.”

“Yeah, you made that fucking clear when you refused Toman’s. Why didn’t you ally with us?”

“Why the fuck would I trust you?” She asks, glaring up at him. “You forced a kiss on me the second time we met. You fought against my brother. You want to help me? Suck my dick.”

“Kara-chan. Come.” Mikey calls out, breaking the tension between the two of them. He’s emerged from the shack with Draken at his side and both her brother and Chifuyu following. 

“What am I, a dog?” she mutters before shoving her way past Hanma to join him. She gives him the finger before ignoring him completely as she follows Mikey.

“Takara–”

“We’ll talk later,” she murmurs to Takemichi as he tries to stop her. “Don’t worry.” She smiles at him before heading to meet Mikey at his bike. He climbs on and offers her a hand to get on behind him. He waits until she’s ready, feet on the pegs and arms wrapped around him, before he takes off, leaving everyone else behind.

tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

saudade tag: @thisbicc @scythegal

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

[ghostberrie]

Soft as the rain

My first reader insert fanfic. Going to discuss mental illnesses, schizoaffective, major depression, PTSD, and Anxiety. Reader is already p messed in the head before the boys find her and make it worse. Ofc blood gore and murder. Manipulation and some other fun stuff. NSFW down the line so this will be 18+. I’m a whore for Hoodie/Brian, Toby and Masky/Tim thrown in for fun too. LMK what you think and how to tag this! Enjoy!

Eyes blearily, head pounding, your body stiff. You get up and your joints creak as the world spins. What did you do last night? You become vaguely aware you’re in an alleyway, having wormed your way behind a dumpster, you look like shit, smell like shit, and feel like it too. Stumbling to your feet, legs weak and very numb from being bent under you for what you guessed to be a long time. You notice as you trip over yourself that your heels are broken. Looking down at your little black dress, its covered in a slick substance. Residue leaking liquid garbage on the pavement where you took your little power nap.

As soon as you step out from behind the dumpster the smell hits you, making your head pound even more, making your vision blur your surroundings. You double over and hurl. Stomach tensing so hard it hurts. Reaching a hand on the dumpsters cold and sticky metal, you lean your weight on it to support you as you empty your stomach. Another hand reaches to try and pull your hair away from getting even more disgusting than it is. As the bile burns your throat you have the fleeting thought that you may have not eaten before or during your little night out, exacerbating your fucked up state. Tears prick at your bulging eyes as you retch up another bit of bile. Taking a few heaving breaths to steady yourself, you can’t help but think this night couldn’t get any worse. Not knowing how you got here, still a bit messed in the head because of whatever you took, god you hoped it wasn’t coke, a huff of a laugh bubbled out of you. You can’t imagine how bad you must look. You wipe your mouth with the back of the hand no longer holding your hair and lean back. Staring at the dark night sky, the view partially obstructed by the tall buildings surrounding you. Light pollution making the sky look starless and void.

Your head snaps back as the bang of a door slamming open echoes through the air, cutting through the background noise of bumping dance music you didn’t fully register until it was overtaken. You quickly duck down, crouching and cowering behind the dumpster you were fully leaning against moments before. Peeking your head around your hiding place you saw two men. One pressing the other to the dank brick wall of the space you occupied. The smaller man seemed scared, eyes wide and panicked. He was slurring his words as he spoke, no, begged the larger man holding him by the front of his white button up a few feet off the ground. He was obviously intoxicated, maybe as much as you. Poor bastard would have a pounding headache in the morning, just like you.

“Please, I swear I wasn’t going to say anything, I didn’t see anything, I don’t know anything. I’m just a little guy, you wouldn’t hurt a small little guy right?” His head snapped to the side, he was punched in the jaw hard, his babbling continuing and getting more pathetic. The larger man would apparently very much hurt a small little guy. You’re not sure if it was the wild night you’d clearly had or your weakened mental state that led you out tonight, but the scene laying out in front of you didn’t scare you absolutely shitless, if anything you found it kind of funny. Of course this shit would happen to you, getting caught in a potential drug deal gone wrong, having to see some poor sucker get jostled around stuck where you were so their attention wouldn’t turn their violence to you. Tugging at your phone which you had tucked into your bra, and struggling with the lock screen, eventually you opened your camera app. With a last blurry thought of ‘worldstar’ you pressed record and filmed the act of violence unfolding before you. Probably not the smartest move, but fuck being smart, this could be fun.

The bigger man, the aggressor, didn’t speak. His back turned to you, you noted he wore a murky yellow hoody and dark jeans. You barely registered the dark gloves covering his hands, gloves that would ensure no fingerprints would be left behind. The smaller man realized after a few more hits that his begging was getting him nowhere. He started to struggle, limbs seeming heavy and uncoordinated, he attempted to claw at the hand that migrated to holding him by the throat. Kicking his feet trying to use his legs to jam the bigger man away, maybe his kicks were weak or maybe the other man was just that strong but he held firm, pulling his other hand back and cracking the head of the small little guy back into the brick, punching him square in the nose. He cried, fat tears pouring down his cheeks, mixing with the blood pouring out of his very broken nose.

The Bigger man reached a hand to his waistband, a glint catching your eye, you realize dully he had pulled a gun. This was no longer a bit of fun violence, your gut churned, wanting to throw up again. Holding it up to the babbling man’s temple, point blank, he waited for the begging to start up again. “Please, I promise you, I won’t say a thing, I’ll disappear, you’ll never have too worry about me!” Finally the bigger man made a sound, a low chuckle rumbled, the sound barely reaching you. He really seemed to enjoy the look of fear and the broken whimpers of someone who’s life was about to end by his hands. Shoulders bounced before he stiffened again. And just like that he pulled the trigger. A resounding bang thundered off the walls. The large city not being the safest, so the gun shot wouldn’t really raise alarms. Just another night that got a little too wild.

Your mind struggled to make sense of the scene, his head was there and then it was mostly gone. A huge hole taking an entire side of his face off, blood and chunks of brain and muscle staining the wall behind him. His body going limp immediately, neck letting his damaged head lull to the side with the bullet that tore into it. The image of a water ballon bursting ran across your mind. And for whatever reason you laughed, maybe it was the nerves, or the thought that you’re shitty night that couldn’t get worse did just that, but a bark of a laugh ripped from your throat. Oh shit. He’s looking this way, oh fuck oh shit. He wore a kind of ski mask, uneven red circles and a frown stitched into it. He was huge, tall and very obviously built, bringing the gun down and pointing it towards the floor, still using his other hand to hold up a grown man in the air, he stilled. While definitely scared now, it all seemed so ridiculous in your mind that you seemed to take your leisurely time to click the recording off and stand on wobbly feet, you gave him a wonky smile. He turned his head to the side, an unsettling movement, slow and calculated.

Before he could even drop the body and make a move towards you, you turned on your heel and ran, as fast as you could in your physical condition. Bursting from one alley to the next, before making it onto the busy street of downtown on a Friday night. Still letting out nervous giggles you melted into the crowd. Ignoring the looks you pushed past people for a few blocks before finding a cab and hopping in. Promptly knocking out after giving him your address, not questioning the lack of foot steps behind you as you hightailed it away from the scene. Small details being lost in your hazy mind. You didn’t take time to account for your ID that was no longer on your person, or the keys to your apartment that were lost as well.

He on the other hand, was so kind to find them laying on the floor behind the very dumpster you took shelter behind, and with your address in hand and a way to get inside he was very happy to return them to you. But not quite so soon. He found the dazed look of fear in your eyes, your lips, shiny from lipgloss that clung to you, pulled into a nervous smile and the way your legs pumped under you as you ran very cute. He couldn’t wait for the fun you would have together, but like any good game he had to be patient. Knowing his victory was guaranteed, he still wanted you to squirm.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Him and I

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader

Summary: Daryl and his wife get separated at the fall of the prison but both manage to escape with another member of their crowd. After the reader and Glenn find Abraham and their group, almost after accepting they'll never find the rest of their families, they stumble in to Terminus. Will they be reunited or will the current state of the world impede them once more?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drugs, violence, swearing, mentions of loss, feeling of anxiety/dread.

A/n: This fic is directly based on a request (that tumblr ate) by @bringinsexybackk69! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get back to this, it's honestly just been so hard for me to write things that aren't blurbs and with the lack of TWD content, it's been dry over here. Thank you for your patience, I adore you! This is not entirely canon since my memory is faulty and I can't currently watch TWD so I'm going off of vibes and vague memory.

When we got to the prison, we thought it was going to be the end all, the place we could stay for as long as we chose to live, where we would raise children, form new bonds and relationships, just overall be safe and enjoy life.

But we thought the same thing about the farm and we all know what happened to that dream.

When the prison fell, I assumed that I would never see any of my family again, my closest friends, my husband. I woke up, alone, on the floor of the prison after Daryl shoved me in a cell and told me to stay put. It took nearly an hour for me to fight my way through walkers to get out into the air and that's when I saw the tanks and Hershel.

My heart broke.

When I found Glenn, I had a little bit of hope that we'd find people the longer we looked around the prison but the longer we looked, the less we found and the more dangerous it got. We were trapped and we couldn't wait around for people to show up. So we left.

"Glenn, where would Maggie go? If something happened, where would she go?" I ask Glenn frantically as we walk side by side, gun by gun, down the rural gravel path, my feet kicking frustratedly at stones with every step we take.

"I don't know, Y/n. We never thought we'd ever be away from each other ever again." Glenn is more frustrated than I am, jaw tense and fists clenched at his side. Without us, I'm convinced he wouldn't last, he's so emotional and gets so easily frustrated whereas I am the opposite.

Cool as a cucumber.

Just like Daryl taught me.

Daryl and I met at the farm.

I stumbled, quite literally, upon them with my arm bit and my whole body sore from carrying my own weight at least a mile or two. I'd say that our first impressions were kind and that we fell in love at first sight but it wasn't and we didn't. He, with the assistance of Hershel,  chopped my arm off to prevent the infection from spreading and inevitably saved my life.

We were all shocked to see that it worked.

Daryl would take care of me, bring me things from the forest like little flowers that he claimed to remind him so much of me even though he'd joke that I'm nothing like a flower. He'd bring me food while I was resting in bed, he'd offer to take me on walks- overall, he was an angel and it was hard not to fall in love with him.

He'd tell you that he fell in love with me when I nearly fell in the well three weeks after my amputation.

Don't ask.

We were inseparable from then on in. He was my right hand man (pun so much intended) and he taught me everything I needed to know. I learned how to hunt with one hand, cook, skin animals, fend for myself because he always wanted me to feel and be capable if anything were to ever happen to him.

He's the most selfless, kind hearted, protective man I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.

When the farm was overtaken by walkers and we had to run, it was the first thing to really test mine and Daryl's relationship but also to test my lack of two arms. It was difficult for me to keep up and it was even more frustrating for Daryl to take care of me while saving the asses of everyone else.

"Are you good?" Daryl asks me, spinning around on his bike to look back at me with a worried expression, brows tugged firmly together in fear. He checks me out once, doing a once over to make sure I'm a-okay and when I nod, he loosens up a bit.

"I'm okay. Just a little spooked." I'm trembling like a leaf against him and he finally steps off his bike and moves to wrap his arms around me without another word.

He holds me tightly to his chest, cradling my head as softly as he can as tears flow freely from my eyes, my arm aching in a phantom pain from all the stress of wishing I was more capable, wishing Daryl didn't need to take care of and comfort me all the time.

"I got you, okay? I'm here."

When we found the rest of the group and found the prison, it was like we were drawn to it. We had to clear it out, we had to make it our own, make it safe. We had a baby on the way, Lori was nearly due and with the loss of a few of our people, we needed to regroup and have a place where we could just be.

But it fell, it went to hell, like everywhere else had since the world fell.

When we Glenn and I escaped, it wasn't exactly a match made in Heaven. We weren't the most compatible to work together, always bickering and fighting over the stupidest shit and ruining plans, just like siblings.

But after days and days of walking and arguing, we found Abraham and it was as if everything just got better. It was no longer the two of us and, after all those years of not seeing him, it was strangely nice to be reunited with him on the road.

"Abe?" The ginger's head snaps around at my voice, turning away from his two friends with wide eyes, gaze locking on mine as I grin ridiculously, my feet carrying me towards him without another word.

"Well holy shit, where did you come from?" He chuckles heartily and I feel tears springing behind the lids of my eyes. "I missed you, kid."

Abraham and I were stationed together in the Middle East for too long, learning the ins and outs of each other and becoming true best friends. When we went home, we kept in touch but when the world fell, we became a background thought in each other's minds.

So the fact that we found each other, a state away from where we grew up, it's still remarkable to this day.

Glenn and I felt better once we were with a group of people, especially since we were genuinely going to kill each other had we been stuck, just the two of us, for any longer. It was nice to meet Rosita and get to know her interesting relationship with my old friend, their oddly sexual relationship keeping the rest of us up in the middle of the night.

It made me miss Daryl, meeting all these new people- I had no one to judge people with. Glenn was no fun and always played devil's advocate and Abraham was who I wanted to judge. Daryl would've gladly sat with me and made me laugh while pointing out Rosita and Abraham's obnoxious issues with PDA or making fun of Eugene's mannerisms and nerves around Rosita.

It was alienating, how much I missed him.

My other half.

"Glenn, I don't know why you think Maggie would go to some random, probably overran 'survivalist' camp. But I think we have a better bet just wandering around looking for them." Abraham looks at me with a funny look, reaching out to shove at my shoulder as an attempt to get me to lay off Glenn but I just shake my head. I lean over Glenn's shoulder, looking at the ominous note that 'Maggie' left him and I can see the hope written on Glenn's face.

"I just have a feeling, you have to go with me on this." Glenn spins around on his heels, holding the note up in his hands with a stern, hopeful smile. "She left me a damn note, Y/n." I look back at Abraham, Rosita and Eugene and they all give me a simple shrug which forces a complaint sigh out of me.

"What you say goes."

Terminus obviously was not what we thought it was, tossed into train cars like animals and expected to turn over our weapons. Abraham called bullshit first, not daring to turn in his weapon before asking a few more questions but it was those few more questions that got us thrown into our makeshift jail in the first place.

I had accepted at that point that I would never see him ever again, that Daryl and I would never be reunited and never spend the rest of our lives together like we so desperately wanted to. 

But when he stumbled into the train car two days later to my surprise, eyes falling on me and arms immediately tossing around me, it was shocking. I didn’t even think that he was real, the way his arms felt around me, after days of not having him near me- it was an out of body experience. 

“Are you really here?” I ask, tucking my face in the crook of his neck, gripping onto the back of his shirt as if he’ll vanish from my grasp if I let him go even the slightest bit. He clings to me the same, hoisting me up into the air as I spot Abraham watching us with a proud smile on his lips that makes my stomach flutter with happy butterflies.

“I’m really here.” He whispers, rubbing my back soothingly as he sets me back down onto the floor, looking down at me with kind, protective eyes. “Fuck, I missed you.” His hands reach up, cupping my cheeks in his hands, ignoring the looks that everyone else in the car is giving us. “Where have you been?” He asks, finally taking a look around at the people around us with a relieved breath.

“With Glenn.” I huff, seeing Glenn, who has his arm around a relieved Maggie, sends me the finger from across the trai car.

“I’m so sorry.” Daryl mutters with a laugh, wrapping his arms around me again, tugging me to his chest with the plan of never letting me go.

“Never leave me alone again.” 

"What're you thinkin' about?" Daryl’s voice snaps me out of my memories, my head turning to look at him as he sets a hand on my shoulder, a soft smile on his lips. "I can see the smoke comin' out of your ears." He teases with a wink, sitting down beside me on the log that I’ve plopped on and I lean into him, letting him wrap an arm around my shoulders. 

"Thinking about when the prison fell. When we were apart."

"Why the hell're you thinking about that?" He asks, brows furrowing and a look of worry passes across his expression as he tugs me back into him, clinging to me once more just like the day that he found me. "Worst days of my life."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c27. All in the past.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mentions of death, heavy mentions of traumatic deaths, pregnancy, abortion.

song to listen to when reading this: Via con Me, Paolo Conte

abstract: Simon. little violent rage outbreak, I just did what needed to be done, she won't know. you're finally getting to know Alba a bit better, her awful past, she was a messed up kid. who knows, maybe the fact we lost family members will bring us closer, or maybe not. sometimes I look at her and think she is even more cruel than me.

Simon went to see Arash's trial. He was given 3 years and 6 months in a correctional military facility for assault and battery. He finally saw him face to face for the first time. The man wasn't tall, his beard overgrown, curly and dark. He had a stern expression, didn't really have a reaction to his sentence. I bet you really want to kill my Alba now uh? He followed him when he left and stopped the officers that were escorting him, offering his help. He ended up accompanying Arash to the toilets, while the other officers talked to some journalists and prepared the car to take him away. He thought about her. He thought about Arash touching her, threatening her, killing her. His mind was completely blank, his blood cold from a rage he had only felt few times before.

He grabbed the back of his neck as soon as they stepped into the toilets, pushed his face downwards until his nose met one of the ceramic sinks. He slammed his head so hard on it he could have killed him there and then. When the man screamed for help he only got more mad. He was fucking stupid to think someone was going to help him now. He envisioned Alba's face when he pushed him to the wall, hands tightly wrapped around his neck. What did you do to her… Arash was gasping for air and trying to scream, his feet dangling aimlessly in the air. He wanted to be the last face he'd ever see again. She's gonna remember what you did for years, I'm gonna have to take care of her, and help her forget. You'll remember as well, if you don't die right now. He thought about Alba again, about how terrified she must have been. He squeezed Arash's throat even tighter, colour was leaving his cheeks, his eyes were watering. Alba's face was in his mind again, helpless and shaking under that desk, her clothes filled with pieces of glass, her hands trembling, her voice broken when she answered the phone. Such a sweet creature, you ruined her. He let him go when he saw he was about to faint. His nose was bleeding. Arash collapsed to the floor at his feet and asked him who he was, what he wanted from him. He didn't respond, let him breathe for a few seconds, then got him up on his feet. 'I'm gonna keep an eye on you Tehrani.' He whispered while they exited the toilets. He realised he should have killed him and left his body in the toilets while he watched the police car disappear in the distance.

Simon knew Arash found out about Alba through a radio, he knew he had said her name during the mission. He was sure about it because he remembered he had used her codename, keeping her true identity for himself like a secret treasure. It was his fault if she nearly got killed, it was because he called her name. He should have killed him, who knew if Alba was still at risk? He did that to her, he put her in danger. After he spent Christmas with her, guilt settled in. Because she invited him knowing he was the reason she was attacked. She cooked for him and talked to him like he was a human being. She was gentle and kind and caring. He didn't want to see her ever again. He already did too much damage to her, least thing he could do was kill her aggressor and never talk to her again. So she could be safe. He wanted to watch over her, he wanted to make sure she was holding up fine. He thought of her constantly. Her voice was the soundtrack to his day, he thought about her words, her accent, the way she spoke her native language. He thought about her with that kid in her arms at ballet, her with that angel like tutu that barely covered her legs. He thought of her cooking and serving him food, talk with her hands while she spoke. He thought about her arms around his neck, the way she threw herself on him, her breath on the skin under his ear. One night, he dared to touch his arm right where she had touched him, to try to remember what her hand felt like, softer than his and full of hope and trust. His hand brushed the hem of his sweatpants while he rocked his hips foreword in the air, an arm covering his eyes while his breath got laboured. She had said his name so many times he replayed the scenes in his head, Simon, Simon, Simon she made it sound so sweet and sensual. He never wanted to see her again, she was a curse. He hated himself for it, for being so greedy and selfish. He wanted her so much it was painful, him who almost got her murdered. That what he was to her, the reason for her attack, he was going to be the reason for her death.

He was on his way to pick her up as we speak. It was New Years Eve.

Kate Laswell lied to Price about the reason why she was in Washington. The man had too much on his plate already. She had an urgent meeting with General Shepherd, although he didn't tell her about what. She had a suspicion. The General wasn't really happy to see her, he had a 'I told you so' look on his face.

'Things are moving over there Kate, it's not looking good.' He raised from his seat at the desk and showed the woman the latest news from Italy on his laptop. All journals and tv programmes were talking about it, the news had reached French television, Germany, and even them. 'She's gonna find out, if she doesn't know already. She might reach out, or they'll reach out to her, make her go back.' Luigi Caserano, leader of one of the most influential clans in Naples had been arrested that morning. His name was known for the years and years of fighting with other families including the Dalla Roccas. Alba's family. He was 76 years old, still on the job, fugitive for at least 20 years. He was hiding in a private hospital facility, he had lung cancer. That's how they found him, or maybe they knew where he was all along, they just were too scared to take action. Kate had done a lot of research on the Camorra before hiring Alba. She understood how those things worked now, even with Alba's help she was able to get an idea of why she had decided to leave Italy. 'It's all over the internet, she knows for sure.' Kate sighed, Alba had endured enough and getting fired for her past affiliations wasn't what she deserved right now. 'She hasn't been in contact for multiple years, I'm not sure why this would have to change. They have no business in America' She tried to defend her, without making the fact she had a soft spot for the girl too clear.

'You know they do, all the immigrants that came from Italy to the East Coast are still active… I'm gonna tell you, this changes everything.' He typed something on the laptop only to show her a picture of a young boy, had to be 17. 'It's her brother. Today is the anniversary of his death.' She felt her heart ache for Alba. 'He was murdered during one of those shootings they do over there, the neighbourhood was under Alba's family's control and the Caseranos had some unfinished business in the same area. They were the ones that killed him. Right this day.' Shepherd crossed his arms and fixed his posture, 'With Luigi Caserano in prison, someone needs to step up and take a lead. His son.' He showed her another picture, a man that had to be in his thirties, dark buzzcut hair, tattoos all over his arms. A challenging expression on his face which was probably taken at a police station. 'He's been in charge for a few years, with his dad in the hospital, Carmine Caserano that's his name. You know what Carmine did when he was a kid?' Laswell understood. He was the man who killed Alba's brother. He was young when it happened. He killed him to send a message to Alba's parents, the Caseranos wanted that area back and would kill the youngest in the family to somehow stop their dynasty.

From that point on, with Edoardo Dalla Rocca dead, Alba was instructed to get close to the clan's younger members. She went to the same school as Carmine Caserano's younger brother who was just two years older than her. Gennaro, Genny as she referred to him. They were in a relationship for most of Alba's childhood, from when she was fifteen. Genny liked that what they had was a secret, that the two families were fighting and would not approve of their love. Plus, he wasn't really involved in any of it, he went to school and played basketball. He was stupid enough to trust Alba, which was able to reveal plans and intel to her mom. Where they hid guns and which cars and motorbikes she had seen around Genny's house. She memorised the car plates one by one each time she visited her boyfriend. 'You remember what she said back when we hired her Kate', Shepherd wasn't bulging, his tone assertive. 'She had said she is not sorry for what she done to that family, she wanted revenge. She's a time bomb, she's unstable and could betray us any given moment.' Kate's lips were pressed in a thin line. They killed her brother… 'Carmine's dad will get prison for life, he will step up and she will want to go back cause the rest of her family will be in danger. We said no contact when we hired her, if I see even one message, one phone call I'm sending her back to Italy and I'm going to make sure she never steps in America again.' She was young, brought up in that messy environment, she got away from them…

'She's not going to be a threat for our operations, it was long time ago, she would agree it was a mistake to…'

'Putting explosives in a car with a pregnant woman inside is not a mistake. It's terrorism.'

The meeting ended on that note.

Alba knew about the news of course. She read it online but was extremely calm about it. She was smoking by the window in her kitchen, her jaw tight and her shoulders tense. She was happy that cunt was going to jail, but deep down knew this wasn't the end. His son was going to be a problem now, he suspected she had something to do with the bomb back in the day. It was surreal, but true. Carmine killed the youngest of her family, her baby brother Edo. She killed his baby sister, who wasn't even born at the time. In her mama's belly. The mother survived the explosion, she had complications and, well...

She shivered at the thought. What a horrible, fucking monster, she deserved all the evil in the world...

Still, it happened a long time ago. Things had changed, she had her ways and she knew. They sure didn't forget about the attack, but were probably too busy to bother about revenge. The Caseranos had deals going on with the Albanians in the city, they changed direction and occupied a few neighbourhoods in the south of Naples. Her family left them the dealing part of business as a sort of peace deal. Everything eventually settled down. They started working with the Nigerian prostitution traffic. Hundreds of girls every month, those who survived the sea and the desert had to repay the debt for the journey by working and selling themselves. Her family had a part of the profits, cause the Nigerians operated in their area. She saw a picture of Carmi and Genny side by side on the news, leaving the police station after seeing their father. They were famous now, all of Italy knew who the Caseranos were, and how fucking long it took for the police to find their father. They had never looked alike. Carmine was dark and cruel even as a child, a little on the chubby side. But he was charming and, as he said, never touched a woman not even with a flower. In the sense he spared them from being killed. She knew that rule wouldn't apply to her. Genny was not cut to be a leader. He was arrogant and childish, he always picked a fight. He was handsome, slim and tall, his hair curly and dark, he still looked like a baby even now. He was her first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. He was violent, jealous and controlling, he loved her passionately, said he would die for her any day. Said she would be his forever. He didn't know she was involved in the bombing. He was never really smart enough to get into business. When she closed her laptop and stubbed out her joint, she got in the shower to take the edge off. It was the weekend after New Years Eve. You guessed it, she spent it with Simon.

She watched him open his present after they had cake and some of the chocolates, she made coffee as well. 'Coffee now?' He had asked. She explained it was common in Italy to drink one shot of espresso after lunch and dinner, just a little pick me up to finish the meal. It's tradition. She made coffee with a moka pot. She served it in tiny one-portion mugs. A ‘tazzina’. He looked incredibly embarrassed to be opening her poorly wrapped present. She gifted him a sewing kit and and a black baseball hat. She said she guessed he could need the saw kit for his mask, which she supposed he did himself. She got him the hat to wear in public, she said 'I think you'll get stared at less if you wear this instead of a balaclava to hide your hair.'

He was the one who kinda suggested New Years Eve. He asked if she was going to spend it alone, she said yes. 'I'm free' he had said. She didn't even have to think about it, she accepted, but hearing him kinda ask her made it ten times better. They had their little fight about weed, she was sure he would have left her house in a hurry and never spoke to her again, turning away forever in his comfort zone. She was happy to be with him, she cherished the moments of silence while they walked and appreciated how weirdly interested he was in her past. They walked to some food trucks that were out for New Years, they stopped to eat near a park. There were people around, music playing and the smell of fried onion rings in the air. They sat together on a bench, Jinx at their feet. They ate bao buns, truffle burgers, they even got dessert. They smoked a rolled cig, which Simon didn't really know how to make. She taught him. They looked normal, they looked like a happy normal couple. He kept feeding Jinx some treats, she was complaining her hands were cold, so he offered to hold the leash for her, so she could warm her hands. She got the food while he waited patiently with the dog, said to get whatever she liked. She sat with her legs folded beneath her, he sweared her knee was nearly touching his thigh. They talked about work, about the places Simon saw on deployment. Alba's uni life. He shared some stories about past missions, mentioning how hard it was to deal with traumatised hostages and survivors. She talked about mental health, making him realise how many things he was doing wrong in his life. It sounded like an invite to talk about his family, but he wasn't ready yet. When they saw fireworks in the sky they realised it was midnight.

Simon flinched at the sound, snapping his head to the sky so fast he could have broken his neck. He came to his senses when he felt her porfume deep in his nostrils. She had slid closer to him on the bench. He felt the pressure of her thighs against his own, barely brushing but still so close. She said, look! He saw her small hand in his peripheral, pointing at the sky. He could take it if he wanted to, i bet your hands are freezing cold sweet Alba. For the first time after many years, he said 'Happy New Year' out loud, to someone that was by his side. She turned her head, the colourful lights from the fireworks reflecting in her kind eyes. For the first time in years, someone had said Happy New Year to her.

notes: you happy? don't get used to it. sorry for all the graphic content about the bomb and stuff. it happens in real life, it's the mafia. love you all.

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

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[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Meat and Greet

Spencer x gn reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Drugging, Spencers kind of a creep, swearing (i probably missed something let me know!)

An: hope y'all like it! 😊💚

Part 2 -smut

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I threw my head back and let out a sigh, placing my hand on the key and turning off the car. 

'I hope this goes well and I find what I'm looking for.'

I reluctantly get out of the car and walk up the driveway. 

I was meeting with Mr. Spencer Charnas about the disappearance of a few girls in a nearby area. Charnas is one of the main suspects. Why am I going alone in the house of a potential kidnapper and or murder? Well to get the latest scoop on the kidnapping case! What would any other good reporter do?

I walk to the front door. 'here gose nothing' I sigh once more before Knocking. 

On the second knock a man about 6 feet maybe a little shorter with dark short hair answers the door. "Good afternoon I'm looking for a Mr. Spencer Charnas!" "Im him." He answers with a slight kind smile. "Oh well I'm Y/N L/N with The Haddonfield Press! I believe we talked on the phone correct?" "Yes! It's a pleasure to meet you Mx. L/N! Please come in!" I nod and walk through the door with Spencer following not to far behind. 

" just go straight and take a seat on the sofa. Would you like anything to drink Mx?" "Sure!" I say taking a seat on the black leather sofa. "What do you got?" "Well I have water and tea that's about it." He chuckled, " I haven't been able to get to the store lately. It's kinda hard to leave the house when everyone thinks you kidnap people." He chuckles sadly "I'll take some tea." I smile back sadly "okay two teas coming right up!" He says trying to sound more cheerful. I nod and take out my notebook and everything else I need to start writing notes.

 Not too long passes before Spencer comes back with two mugs of tea. "Here you go Mx." He says handing me the warm mug and taking a seat in the chair in front of me. “Thank you!” I say taking the mug and taking a sip after he takes a drink out of his own mug. 

‘He wouldn't drug an entire thing of tea would he. Would he?’ I cleared my throat and began the interview. “So Spencer… may I call you Spencer?” “You sure can!” he smiles “Okay, so Spencer I am here to try to get your side of the alleged kidnapping, Let's start with a simple one shale we?” “I would like that very much.” he lets out an almost nervous laugh.”So did you do it?” you look at him and giggle. He laughs with you.

 “Well what do you think? I mean you're the one who came to the house of an alleged kidnapper alone, might I add.” my heart feels like it skips a beat. “W-what? I never told you..” I trail off feeling suddenly dizzy, my vision begins to double. “What were you saying Y/N?” I can't see much but I can tell that Spencer had an evil smirk on his face. “W-what did you do to me…?” That's all I could get out before everything went dark. 

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

When I wake up all I see is darkness. “What the fuck?” “Ah! Y/N you're awake!” the voice of Spencer booms from above me. Wait? Above me? I look up and with the faint light I see Spencer. “WHAT THE FUCK SPENCER?!” “Oh love what's wrong?” He asks with mock kindness. “Warre the fuck am I Spencer?” I respond with more calmly. “Well you're in the pit that's dug in the floor of my basement.” “YOU ACT LIKE THATS A NORMAL FUCKING THING!”

 He shrugs and walks away. “Wait! Don't go!” “Why? Are you scared?” He teses. “No.. I just want to know why you kidnapped me? I mean like i was trying to clear your name, and how you repay me is throw me in a fucking hole in the ground?” “Well my friend… You're here because you intrigue me Mx. L/N. I have been reading your articles in The Haddonfield Press for a while. I got to say I'm a big fan of your work! But by far my favroit article you have writen is the one about how the Dhamer series effected the family’s of his victums, I mean that guy was realy fucked up!” “And YOUR NOT?” “Let me finish!” Spencer snaps. If i wernt scared i sure a fuck was now. He sighs “As I was saying I love your work and when you called about an interview well I couldn't resist taking you for myself.” He chuckles.

 Tears threatened my eyes. “Oh don't cry my love! I won't hurt you, I would never do anything to harm you because I love you.” a moment of silence fell upon the two of us. “Well imma turn in for the night. Goodnight my love.” Without another word he left the side of the pit and I heard a door open and then slam shut, dirt falling from the dirt walls of the pit coating the top of my head with dirt causing me to cough. I finally take a look at my surroundings. There's a dirty looking mattress in the corner of the pit with a bottle of water next to it. As I pick up the bottle of water I find a note taped to it. It reads 

‘Stay hydrated my love!’ ~ S<3

I roll my eyes and take the note off and throw it as far away from me as possible. “Fuck it” i say sitting on the mysteryus mattress. I lay down and close my eyes ‘this is going to be interesting.” I sigh for drifting off to sleep.

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

An: let me know if y'all want a part 2 I am planning on making this a series or something any way love y'all 😊💚

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

The Tour XIII

A/N: this chapter is way longer than intended but I didn’t want to break it into 2 parts so sorry about that! Enjoy 😘

Warning: swearing, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

The air in your hotel room is thick. Colson just told you that his recent party boy behaviour has something to do with you and you can’t seem to wrap your head around it. Your legs feel like jelly but your feet are concrete. You’re trying so hard not to freak out but it’s near impossible with his eyes on you. You need a second.

You move rapidly to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, and lean against the sink. If you were in your right mind, you’d probably demand Colson leave so you can get your bearings. 

“You.”

His word hangs in the air like a stifling breeze. You want to know more but you can’t bring yourself to face him again. Not yet at least. The coward's way out is to just hide in the bathroom and hope that he’ll eventually leave but you know Colson, he’s as stubborn as you are. He’ll wait you out until the sun rises and the thought of sleeping on a cold tiled floor or bathtub is very unappealing. 

You take a deep, steadying breath, splash some water on your face and open the bathroom door again. Colson sits unbothered on the edge of your bed, playing with the ring on his middle finger and staring at the floor. He looks up at you as you clear your throat, willing the words out of your mouth.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you ask in a hushed tone and he smiles softly at you. He pats the spot on the bed beside him and you take it, cautiously.

“I’m not going to lie, when Rook brought you around that first time I didn’t like you. He’d told me about your failed date and I thought that was it but then he showed up at my house with you on his arm and I saw fucking red,” you gulp but he softens his words by stroking your thigh and you relax, a little. “I guess I was just masking my intimidation by being an asshole and part of me thought that maybe Rook was just pretending to only want to be friends because his ego wouldn’t let him admit he liked you if you didn’t feel the same way. Then I watched the two of you and it was pretty clear there was nothing there. After that, I kind of got used to the idea of you being around but then you weren’t really around all that often.”

It’s true. In the beginning, you were so spun out about the idea of being friends with famous people that you didn’t do all that much socialising with them. You’d always sort of kept to yourself most of the time anyway so you’d never had to factor in making plans with others. It wasn’t that you objected to the company, you just weren’t used to it.

“That drove me fucking insane,” he half growls, half groans and you’re instantly turned on by it.

“What do you mean?” you squeak, biting your bottom lip.

“Rook didn’t say much about you other than the fact that you were cool to hang out with. I don’t know if he was intentionally keeping me in the dark or if he was just oblivious to my need to know. Either way, the fact that you didn’t really seem to come around often made it impossible to get to know you, which made me want to get to know you more.”

You ponder that for a moment. In the beginning, before your crush on Colson began, you didn’t really give much thought to him. You didn’t obsess about what he was doing or if he was thinking about you, you didn’t second guess every little thing he said, the way you do now. You miss that version of yourself. The one that didn’t give a fuck.

“So what you’re saying is, you were infatuated with me?” you grin at the horrified look on Colson's face. “Kells, I’m just fucking with you!” you laugh at the pale sheen his face has taken on. He shakes his head but continues to talk anyway.

“When you started coming around more often, I tried to keep a distance. I guess, observing from a distance type of thing but I found you so…intriguing that you I failed almost every time. Then we became part of the group, I forced myself to push all of that away and just be a friend. Then I met Megan.”

You flinch at the mention of her name. Even though you were a part of the group first, she always managed to make you feel like an insider. You don’t really know if she did it on purpose or if she just had that effect on people but it was unnerving either way. You hung around them less when she was around. Rook was the only one in the group you ever hung out with one on one, until you developed a closer friendship with Ashleigh and then Sophie, so you still knew what was going on in the group thanks to him.

“I knew it was wrong and that I was 100% committed to what I thought her and I had but you were always there in the back of my mind. Like an itch you can’t scratch or a puzzle you can’t solve. It was frustrating and all consuming at the same time. That’s probably why I missed the signs with Megan. Not that’s your fault or anything.”

You didn’t think he was blaming you for the end of his relationship but now you kind of wonder how committed he really was if he still thought about you from time to time. You’d never seen yourself as a puzzle. You thought you were pretty fucking obvious most of the time, an open book, but apparently not.

“Did you love her?” 

Your question surprises him and he takes a few moments to gather his thoughts. You can’t remember the last time you saw Colson sit still for this long, let alone have such an honest conversation. You’re so used to ‘life of the party’ Colson that this ‘controlled and soft spoken’ Colson is almost off putting.

“In the beginning, yes definitely but…” he falters slightly before continuing. “As I got to know her, the real her, there were parts of her that were hard to love. I hated the way she treated people that she thought were beneath her and she never had a nice thing to say about my friends, any of them. I think I was so blinded by the thought of ‘happily ever after’ I ignored all those sides to her. I made excuses for them and I regret that but I don’t regret her. Does that make any sense?”

You nod and he almost breathes a sigh of relief. “You learnt from the relationship so you wouldn’t take it back but there are parts of it you wish you’d done differently.” You could understand that perfectly.

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence for a moment, letting everything Colson shared sink in. You don’t know how you missed the signs that he wanted to get to know you but after what he’d said, it was obvious he hadn’t wanted you to see them and he did a great job at hiding that. You still didn’t really get an answer to your question though.

“So why have you been such an asshole lately?” you turn your body so you can face him, making sure you can properly read his expression and make sure he’s not lying.

“When the relationship ended, I was relieved and then I felt guilty about that. The whole thing fucked with my head but there was this overwhelming part of me that I was desperately trying to silence.”

He stands to his feet and begins pacing back and forth. You follow his movements with your eyes, wringing your fingers nervously as he thinks. He kneels in front of you suddenly and you’re taken aback by it. He looks up at you with those eyes that could just about melt your heart and your brain if you aren’t careful. Colson’s voice is so quiet you have to strain to hear him when he finally speaks again. 

“There was this voice that was…screaming at me to call you, to see you. I felt like I barely knew you but it was like my subconscious wanted to. I pushed it as far down as I possibly could but I couldn’t get it to shut up. When I would drink or use it would be quiet so I could get a little relief.”

“Why did you need to silence it?” your voice is just as quiet as his. 

“I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by trying to pursue something with you if you didn’t feel the same way, I mean we’d barely hung out alone since we’d met. Rook will kill me for saying this but…he made a point of telling me you were off limits. Rook is never serious about anything but about this, he was deadly serious and I wanted so badly to respect him, even if it meant driving myself insane.

You can’t help the small part of you that is angry at Rook for doing something like that. You’re an adult who is fully capable of making decisions about your own love life and you don’t need a ‘big brother’ to step in and do it for you. You’ve had enough people in your lifetime try to tell you what to do, how to behave, who you can and can’t associate with. When you finally started making decisions that were purely selfish, you finally began to feel happiness. You refuse to let Rook take that away from you. You push that conversation to the back of your mind, for now.

“I could’ve…stayed away, if you’d asked, to make things easier for you. I still could if that’s what will help you.”

“No.” Colson’s response is immediate and definite. You reach out and brush your fingertips along his cheekbone, watching his eyes flutter shut. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not really sure what you’re apologising for but feeling like it’s the right thing to say. 

When Colson’s eyes open, he looks torn. Like that no matter what decision he’s about to make, it will be the wrong one. His eyes dark to your lips and a rush of heat finds your cheeks. You bite your bottom lip and Colson groans at the sight. You’re not sure if it’s a groan of pleasure or dismay and it leaves an unsteady feeling in your chest. Colson leans closer to you, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck and your breath hitches. 

“I need you,” he whines against the column of your throat and you lean your head back to give him better access to your neck. 

You know you shouldn’t but you wrap your hand around the back of his head and pull him closer to you. Colson kneels higher so that he is between your legs, gripping your hips tightly in his grasp. You pull again, leaning back on the bed so you’re lying flat and he is hovering above you. 

“Have me,” you growl as his lips find yours and finally they connect. 

Colson’s kiss is hot, deep and full of passion. It’s unspoken words, thoughts and emotions mixed with desire and desperation. The feeling is like nothing you've ever experienced before. You never want this feeling to end. It’s that feeling you get when your swing reaches its highest peak or when you run so fast you feel nothing but absolute freedom. Colson’s lips are a cool summer breeze through your hair, a hot shower after getting caught in a storm. He is comfortable, relief and absolute ecstasy all rolled into one. 

“Strip for me baby,” he instructs between kisses. You reach down to unzip your boots but his hand wraps around your wrist to stop you. “Except those.”

You lean up to pull your top over your head and you break contact with Colson’s lip for no longer than a couple of seconds but you already crave them again. You toss your top and move to the zipper of your skirt, flinging it into the darkness as Colson’s lips find the cleavage of your breasts. He trails kisses all over them. He pulls one of the cups down and envelopes your nipple with his lips. He laps at your nipples, sucking and caressing them with his tongue. 

“Fuck Kells,” your voice quivers as pleasure takes over. 

Colson reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and rid you of the obstacle. His mouth moves to your other nipple and he gives it the same attention, using his thumb and forefinger to tweak the other one. You’re not sure if you can cum from this alone but at this moment in time, it damn sure seems possible. 

Colson slips his fingers between your thighs and grazes your slit through your soaked panties with his thumb. You all but throw yourself off the bed at the intense pleasure that flows through you. 

“I don’t…think…I can do…foreplay tonight,” you pant out as he repeats the gesture over and over again, your body singing with euphoria. 

“Mmm damn baby, that keen for my cock already?” he grins against your sternum. “I was about to make that pretty pussy of yours cum all over my face.” you sit up to look him directly in the eye. 

“Cock now, mouth later.”

Colson wastes no time in stripping his clothes off and climbing on top of you. He lines his impressive cock with your hole and thrusts into you with one large movement. You cry out in pain and lust as he settles against your neck. He bites down on the sensitive skin and you're practically purring. 

“More,” you beg as he lies still. 

Colson reels back and slams into you again, eliciting the same reaction from you. He continues to slam into you again and again until all you can do is allow your orgasm to explode. You cream all over him, squirting for the first time ever as he refuses to slow himself down. As you come down from your high, you feel him twitch inside you before filling you with hot semen. 

“Ah fuck baby, yeah fuck take my cum you dirty girl,” he growls in your ear and you convulse around his dick. 

Colson rolls off you, panting and grinning like an idiot. You stand to head to the bathroom to clean yourself up but he stops you. He pulls you back to the bed by your waist, holding you against him. He kisses your hair, your cheeks, your wrists, each individual finger until you’re giggling under the assault of his kisses. 

“I want to kiss every inch of your skin,” he tells you between kisses. 

“Funny because I want to lick every inch of yours.” 

His jaw drops and you take his momentary shock to quickly escape his clutches and you head for the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. 

“You coming cowboy?” you call over your shoulder as you pull your boots off and panties off, flicking them at his stunned face with a shit eating grin plastered on your face. 

This is going to be fun. 

*********

Tag list: @mgklove99xx @anonymousme86

[jimxnslight]

Chapter 1: So High [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: I swear I spent like a month researching to make sure everything is as accurate as possible, but if you’re more experienced in this topic and see some inaccuracies don’t hesitate to let me know. Also, if you are under 18: do. not. read. I am watching you younglings.

<< masterlist || next chapter >>

Just one step at a time Y/N, you're almost there.

You groaned inwardly as you continued to drag your feet along the concrete sidewalk, every bone in your body weighing you down like a heavy truck. Your muscles screamed at you to turn around and burrow back into your bed and even your mind was having trouble focusing. Overall, nothing but pure willpower was pushing you through the empty park, but you had to keep moving if you wanted these feelings to stop. 

So you pushed on. 

Ironically, the atmosphere was a perfect reflection of your mood. Despite how early it was in the morning, there was no prospect of the usual sunlight. Instead, grey clouds and an oddly comfortable hum caused by rainy drizzle surrounded you as you continued. It only made your muscles more languid and you almost caught yourself falling asleep mid-step several times. 

Thankfully, after what felt like hours, your gaze caught onto a lone figure on the other side of the park, rocking against one of the swings quietly. Besides him, the area was largely deserted, probably because of how early it was in the morning. Soon it would be filled with students and parents rushing to their schools and jobs. 

You'd be one of them, but for now, you had more pressing matters to attend to. 

"Yoongi," you greeted idly once you walked up to him. 

Yoongi, who had been staring at the sand below him, looked up at you with a scowl. His black hair was pulled into a half bun while it looked like he had gotten his hair trimmed. Today, he was dressed in an expensive looking black rain jacket that stopped at his knees paired with black combat boots. His silver cross earring seemed unusually dull in the rainy weather. 

"It's Suga when we're doing business," he corrected, pushing himself off the swing while eyeing the security cameras wearily. They weren't working at the moment, due to some renovations or something like that, so you didn't really understand the paranoia. 

You tilted your head lazily at his statement, "it's always business with us."

"Exactly," he frowned, shaking his head in regret, "if it wasn't for- well, you know- you wouldn't have even figured out my actual name, which is already annoying. So no need to rub it in."

"Nope, I worked too hard to get that name just to never use it," you smirked, trying to keep your voice light, but on the inside you were itching to grab what you came for, "so... do you have it?"

Yoongi's hand disappeared into his jacket's pocket and returned with a small white bottle just barely the size of your thumb. Why was it so small?

"What the hell is that?"

Despite your words, it took everything in you not to snatch up the bottle like some savage, but your pleasantries only went so far. The second the bottle was in your hand you didn't bother waiting for him to leave before you opened it and downed three pills on the spot. 

He frowned in response, "I'm low on stock right now."

It was always so typical of him to have such short and concise responses, and although you hated it, it was pretty helpful for when you were going through withdrawals. It was easier for your foggy mind to understand short sentences rather than a bunch of details. But you were going to need the details in this case. Yoongi hadn't been low on stock in a long time, which means something must have happened.  

At your expression Yoongi sighed. 

"Look, I think someone tipped the police off about me so I'm laying low for a while. In fact, the only reason I'm even doing business with you right now is because you're my least problematic client, which I appreciate... and also because I know withdrawal can be a real pain."

You hummed in response, barely paying attention. The pills you just took weren't going to kick in for another 10-20 minutes, so most of what Yoongi was saying was flying through one ear and out the other. 

"Anyways," he sighed, likely noticing your current state, "I'll get the payment after I get the cops off my back."

He hesitated before his next words but ultimately mumbled, "take care of yourself."

You lazily watched as he made his way into a flashy red car and drove off before you realised you should probably get going as well. 

-

-

-

By the time you reached your school, you felt your focus sharpen as the Adderall you had taken earlier finally started kicking in. The black jacket you had been wearing, to hide your uniform from Yoongi of course, was hanging against your arm as you made your way into the school towards your classroom. 

Since you were a little early, the class wasn't entirely full just yet. Students were still milling around, laughing and chatting about things you couldn't care less about. It wasn't until you sat down in your seat when you noticed that your best, and only, friend was already in the classroom. 

Kim Namjoon, with his dark brown hair and dimpled cheeks, gave you a stern look as he noticed your presence. 

"You didn't answer my call yesterday," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly. 

That made you snort, "when do I ever answer your calls for school related stuff?"

"Because you're too busy crashing from all the drugs you take throughout the day?"

It was his tone more than his words that made you turn towards him with a frown. Namjoon has always bothered you about your... recreational activities, that's no surprise. But there was something about the rare harshness in his voice this time that had you taken aback.  

"I'm fine Namjoon, chill out."

But Namjoon seemed unusually persistent today and only his next words gave some insight as to why, "you know there was a death in my apartment yesterday? A guy overdosed on a ton of cocaine and died, Y/N, because he was doing the exact same thing you do."

You shifted uncomfortably to mask your uneasiness.

"I don't do coke," you joked, but Namjoon's face didn't waver. 

"So? Whether it’s Adderall or meth, the result is still the same,” he pressed further, "you know he was completely alone when it happened? And when his family came to the funeral, they barely even cared. Most of them said they hadn't seen him in years."

You scoffed, "Well, I definitely won't have that problem."

His expression softened, "there are people that still care about you, Y/N, but if you continue on the path you're on right now, I can't guarantee that. I don't want you to be like him. I don't want you to end up alone with nothing but a drug addiction."

You could hear the fear in his voice at that last sentence. 

"I don't have an addiction, Namjoon, relax," you said as you heard the bell ring. All around you, students rushed to their seats in preparation for the class, "I could stop if I wanted to, you're just being paranoid."

He seemed disappointed at your response, even a little angry.

"You're high right now aren't you?" He whispered. 

“When am I not?"

"That's not funny, Y/N."

"It's a little funny."

Namjoon's hand grabbed your arm in frustration as his voice lowered, "this isn't a joke, Y/N. If you're not going to take this seriously then I'll have to do things you're not going to like."

You scoffed at the threat, "like what? Tell everyone about it? How would you even convince them? I'm a straight A student that's respectful to all the teachers. Who would even believe you?"

"A simple drug test can change all that," he snapped back. 

Your eyebrow raised, "so you'd report me to the police?"

Namjoon's frustrated face morphed into shame as he looked away quickly. The two of you had been friends ever since you and your father moved here when you were 7 years old. He was practically your brother at this point. When he found out about your using around a year ago, he had been furious, but every time he tried, he just couldn't report you. Maybe it was because he didn't want you to have a criminal record, or maybe it was because he didn't want to hurt you, either way he's been ashamed about the lack of action ever since. 

Namjoon watched the teacher walk into the class with a mixture of guilt and anguish. 

"I should... If I really cared about you I would've reported you the first time I found out. Maybe it wouldn't have become so bad if I did..."

You quietly watched as the students started getting out their textbooks and homework. Namjoon's words, despite not being anything new, should've moved you. You should've felt a need to change, or to do better. 

But you didn't feel any of that. Even hearing about that man, that might even be foreshadowing to your future, didn't instill any fear into your heart. In fact, the prospect of that being your future didn't shake you. 

Honestly, you felt nothing at all. 

-

-

-

The sound of the bell ending first period had never felt more relieving as you finally felt Namjoon’s gaze, which had been drilling into the side of your head the entire time, shift. Thankfully, he wasn’t in your second period class so you’d finally get a break from his constant worry. 

That allowed you to make your way to your second classroom quietly before settling down in your usual seat that was near the back of the class. You were even going to quietly rest your head on your desk for a moment, but the sound of three girls shuffling towards you made you realise that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

It was always comical how fast she approached you the second Namjoon was out of the picture.

"Y/N!" 

You groaned, preparing yourself for what you knew was going to be one of the worst five minutes of your life.

Kim Jiwoo smirked as she peered down at you, two girls, whose names you didn't even know, at her side. Today she had tied her long brown hair into a half ponytail, letting her side bangs frame her face. Most would call her pretty, but you knew better than to flatter a snake. 

"Did you sleep in a barn last night?" She laughed, tugging at a strand of your hair, "it looks like a rat’s nest."

The two at her side laughed as she gasped.

"Wait, who am I kidding," she continued, " your father couldn't afford a barn. Where then? The side of a highway?"

Another round of her friends' laughs filled the room annoyingly. 

"Don't you have anywhere else to be insecure, Jiwoo?" You grumbled tiredly. 

She simply scoffed, "what do I have to be insecure about? Your face is all the self-love I need. Everyday I wake up and am thankful my parents didn't give birth to one like yours."

That made you smile, "speaking of parents, how is your parents' divorce going? I heard your dad was found sleeping with the maid after church, again. Personally I think you take after him the most."

The two girls' eyes widened in surprise as they side-eyed a seething Jiwoo. At this point, the whole class had gone quiet, listening intently to the two of you. 

For a moment, a very dumb moment, you thought she'd leave it at that and make an embarrassing exit. 

But you were never a very lucky one, were you?

"My parents' divorce is going great, thanks for asking," she said suddenly, a snake-like grin on her face, "I'm just glad both of them are still alive."

You tensed as you felt her close the space between the two of you, "how are your parents, Y/N?"

As unaffected as you were trying to appear, it took a lot of self-control not to throw a chair at her face. 

But Jiwoo wasn't done just yet. 

"Oh my!" She gasped, hands flying to her lips, "I completely forgot! You don't have both of your parents, do you?"

You could feel her breath as she chuckled, but the smile dropped from her face as she came closer, "What's wrong, Y/N? Mother couldn't survive a little chemo?"

Distantly you heard some students gasp, while others laughed. It didn't matter, because none of them could stop you when you brought up your fist and slammed it into her face. 

Anyone that says violence will never be fulfilling is a liar. Watching Jiwoo crumple to the ground was all the therapy you needed. 

Unfortunately, that only made her laugh more. 

"You know, if you kill yourself, maybe you can meet mommy in hell," she laughed, wiping the small trickle of blood from her mouth. 

You just scoffed, hiding the second wave of anger by sitting back in your seat, "and see you there too? No thanks."

As Jiwoo stood, the door of the classroom opened, causing everyone's head to snap towards it. The girls swooned as Mr. Kim walked in with light steps. His gaze first fell on Jiwoo, who was standing over you, and then your seated form.  

"Is there a problem here?"

No one answered, either too afraid for reprimand or too immersed in checking him out. Mr. Kim Seokjin was the youngest teacher in the school, not to mention the most attractive according to the female students. Forget the girls, you were pretty sure you've even caught some of the guys talking about how hot he is. 

When no one answered he raised an eyebrow. It was clear he knew something had happened here, something that shouldn't have happened. But after a moment, he must have decided to let it go because he turned around and started writing on the board. 

"Please go back to your seats everyone and turn to page 237."

You watched as everyone scrambled to their desks, except for Jiwoo of course, who gave you a condescending smile first. That was the one thing you could respect about her, she knew how to take a punch without being a whiny baby about it. The two of you had been at each other's throats for as long as you could remember. The rivalry between you was always so excessively vicious because you were cousins, meaning you knew a lot more about each other's familial secrets compared to the other students. In fact, now that you think about it, you probably exposed her parents' divorce to the class. But you'll take it as payback for yesterday, when she tripped you in the hallways and almost broke your head against one of the lockers. 

Mr. Kim continued to speak about the lesson, which you were completely focused on thanks to the pills you had taken this morning. 

Well, that was until you heard distracting whispers behind you. 

"Who's that?" A male voice whispered, seemingly to someone beside him. 

Another voice answered in the same manner, "oh yeah, you just transferred from class A, right? You don't know about the drama here. Those two have been at each other's throats since forever."

The first voice chuckled, "I don't care about that. Who is she?"

"Um," the second voice paused, as if confused, "you mean her? That's Kim Y/N... why? What's up?"

"She's got a hot back," the first voice said. 

You scowled as you turned around to face the voices, "this 'hot back' can hear you, you know."

You were met with two guys sitting next to each other. The first had permed dirty blonde hair, a boxy grin and intimidating eyes. You already knew him to be Taehyung. Although you'd never really held a full conversation with him, you knew he'd been in your class for a while. 

But the one sitting next to him wasn't as familiar, though you knew you've seen him in the halls before. His hair was a bright orange that oddly suited him, while his cheeks were soft yet structured. 

He was attractive, there was no denying it. But there was also no denying that he was the one commenting on your 'hot back' too, which you did not appreciate.

"Oh I know," he replied coolly, "is admiration suddenly a crime?"

"Go admire someone else's back, thanks," you said, turning back to the lesson being taught. 

But the whispers only continued. 

"Such a pretty face too," the orange haired guy said, and you could almost see him smirking. 

You saw exactly that when you turned around once again, but this time towards Taehyung, "could you put your friend on a leash?"

Taehyung, who actually seemed confused, just shrugged. 

"I'm Park Jimin," the orange haired guy announced, "what's your name, kitten?"

It took everything in you not to cringe at the nickname and instead turn back towards the front of the class, "not interested."

As you watched Mr. Kim turn towards the board to write something down, the sound of a pencil falling to the ground followed. You were sure Jimin threw one at you to get your attention, like some middle schooler might you add, but you were determined to ignore him, keeping your focus on the board. You could hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, a slight chuckle and even light footsteps. 

But a moment later you felt your back start to warm up. At first you thought maybe the classroom's heating had turned up, but then you swivelled around to come face to face with Park Jimin. His chest was so close to your back, all he had to do was move just an inch forward and he'd be pressed against it. 

With Mr. Kim still writing something on the board, Jimin went completely unnoticed aside from one or two curious students. 

But that didn't deter him at all. 

"There's going to be a party tonight at Taehyung's place," Jimin whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you should come. I'm sure you'll have a good time."

Just as his head lifted away from yours, Mr. Kim turned around. 

"Jimin, what are you doing out of your seat?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

Jimin raised a pencil in response, and with a start, you realised it was your pencil that had been sitting on your desk a few seconds earlier, "sorry, I just dropped my pencil."

Mr. Kim nodded and went back to teaching the lesson while you heard Jimin take his seat once again, still feeling the ghost of his lips near your ear. 

-

-

-

For the record, it wasn't Park Jimin that had you driving to Taehyung's house at 10 PM on a Friday night. You had known about the party before he had 'invited' you and had already been planning to go. Of course, most students were attending for some partying.

And although partying sounded good, you had other intentions in mind. 

Your car rolled to a stop a few blocks away from Taehyung's house before you got out and started walking along the dark sidewalk. You could already hear the music and sounds of chatter from your current position, but you doubt anyone in the neighbourhood would complain about it. Taehyung's parents were the definition of rich, and messing with people like that was never a very smart option. The best they could do was pop in some ear plugs and wait the party out. 

"Y/N?!" A familiar voice behind you called out. 

Speaking of ear plugs...

You tried to fasten your pace, but Jiwoo was already in step beside you. There seemed to be no sign of the girls from earlier this time. 

"Where are your goons?"

Her reply was quick. 

"Where's your sobriety?"

You rolled your eyes, continuing to walk in silence. To your distaste, she didn't leave after that. 

"Thanks a lot for advertising the divorce. You know how hard it was to keep something like that on the down low?" She scoffed, actually looking quite annoyed. 

You raised an eyebrow, "you're really going to act like that after the chemo comment?"

"You started it. Don't act like some victim now."

It was your turn to scoff now, "you started it like 5 years ago."

"It was 7 years actually."

"Aww, do you have a calendar you use to mark our fights too? I'm straight, before you get any ideas."

"Oh screw off, Y/N."

Thankfully, there was a beat of silence after that. You cursed yourself for parking so far away from the house, but it was usually useful for when the police were called and they started impounding cars. At this point, you'd rather take the police than Jiwoo's presence. 

After a moment Jiwoo spoke up again, "I saw you with Jimin in second period."

She grinned. 

"A manwhore and a junkie... it's a match made in heaven."

You almost celebrated when Taehyung's house finally came into view. Without even bothering to look in Jiwoo's direction, you scurried into the house, but not before hearing her cackle like some kind of witch. 

You genuinely feel bad for whoever decides to curse their life by marrying her. Maybe she'll do everyone a favour and stay single forever, though you doubt she'd be that gracious. 

Even though it was relatively early for the party, the living room was packed with people. Students you recognized from school were chatting and laughing together while others played games and took shots. You were pretty sure you even caught one or two college kids here and there too. 

As you scanned the room, your eyes were naturally drawn to a head of bright orange hair sitting on one of the couches lazily as a girl sat on his lap with a smile. Jimin looked good, with a simple white t-shirt and ripped jeans. A silver earring, similar to Yoongi's, hung from one of his ears. 

For a second, you thought his eyes caught yours, but you turned away and started walking towards the kitchen before you could confirm. It didn't matter anyway, you weren't here for him. 

The sight of alcohol had you smiling. 

You were here for this.  

You grabbed a cup and filled it with beer from one of the tanks sitting on the counter. There were a few empty bottles of vodka and even wine sprawled around, implying that if you looked hard enough you might be able to snag a bottle. But you weren't very keen on getting too hammered tonight. 

While deep in thought, you didn't notice Jimin slip in front of you until he started talking. 

"Having fun?" He asked, a red plastic cup filled with a clear substance already in his hand. His hair was dishevelled and messy, like someone had run their hands through it many times, and a silver necklace shaped like an upside down spade hung from his neck. 

The necklace forced you to look down at his loose sleeveless white shirt, which did a poor job at hiding his toned figure. The muscles in his arm were flexed as they held the cup, making it hard to focus on the one in your own hand. You turned towards the kitchen's counter, trying to shift your mind to something else. 

But Jimin seemed to notice that, making him smirk.

"Like what you see?" He asked innocently as he slowly made his way towards you. When he finally came to a stop, he was so close you could feel the heat of his chest on your arm while his hand rested on the countertop right in front of you, "you don't have to look away, kitten. I don't mind giving it to you if you want it."

Your sharp gaze met his eyes once again, which were also a lot closer than you had initially thought. With his chest near your arm, his hot breath against your ear and his ruffled hair, you didn't blame yourself when you felt a hesitant shiver run down your spine. 

Park Jimin was a jerk, but god was he a hot jerk.

But was this something you wanted? Although you weren't exactly opposed to the idea, you didn't exactly want it either. It had been a long time since you last had sex, and the thought of doing it again with someone like Jimin, aka someone with a lot of recent experience, was kind of nerve wracking. You'd rather just get high. 

"Believe it or not, I didn't come to this party because of you," you said finally. 

"Oh?" His gaze lingered on your lips before raising back to your eyes, "then why are you here?" 

For the free alcohol, and hopefully free drugs, would've been your honest answer. 

"Why does anyone attend parties? To have some fun of course."

Jimin regarded you for a moment before replying, "there are different types of fun at parties. Which one are you here for?"

You shrugged, "not the type you're interested in."

With that, you filled your cup to the top before walking out of the room, eyes peeled for a dealer. Your talk with Jimin had heightened your desire for some fun, which for you was to feel nothing at all. All you had to do was find a dealer that would be willing to give you a sample. 

Thankfully, with your experience, finding someone was no problem. In less than 10 minutes you had found and flagged down a man that seemed much too old to be at a high school party. You chuckled inwardly at the sudden thought of 'cheating' on Yoongi with another dealer, but Yoongi wasn't always available, especially now that the police were on his back. 

After getting the dealer to trust that you weren't a cop, which was stupid considering your age, he eyed you with a more comfortable stare. 

"Okay, what do you need?" He asked patiently. 

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. You already had gotten some Adderall from Yoongi earlier today, and you were craving something a little stronger. But you were in the mood of something relaxing, not stimulating.  

Then the thought of heroin popped into your mind. You were always careful when it came to opioids since they're insanely addictive, but the last time you had some was a pretty long time ago. You were sure the gap was long enough for it to be safe to take it again. Besides, the feeling it gave was always amazing, like every cell in your body was relaxed and calm. 

You'd like that at the moment, and you told him just that. 

He excused himself for a second, rushing into a room before returning again with a bag of fine white powder. He held it out to you discretely, but not before announcing the price. 

"I want a sample first," you said, but the man shook his head. 

"Sorry, no samples."

That made you scoff, "What? How am I supposed to know if it's good or not? Besides this is heroin I'm talking about, not weed."

"Either give me the money and take it or don't. I don't do samples."

"No thanks, I'll look somewhere else."

You turned and started making your way away from him, feeling a bit irritated, but not very angry. You've never had an issue with finding samples at a party. You just seemed to have picked the wrong guy. 

But soon enough, after dealing with multiple dealers that refused, you huffed in frustration. 

"What is up today with you guys? Why is everyone suddenly so against samples?" You rambled to one of them. He just gave you a tired look. 

"Supply has been low lately. I've heard that the police are closing in on some of our harbour guys- uh, major suppliers, if you don't understand. A lot of them have had to lay low because of it, meaning guys like us aren't getting a lot of supply lately. We can't afford to give out samples right now."

So Yoongi wasn't the only one in a tight spot at the moment. Turns out a lot of dealers are suffering right now. That almost made you groan out loud. 

"So that's a hard no to the sample?" You said, causing the guy to raise an eyebrow. 

"Just pay up, don't be cheap," he said with crossed arms. 

"It's a party. Obviously, I didn't bring any money with me, I've never needed it."

The guy just shook his head and walked away, leaving you alone and needy. 

No samples. No dealers. You couldn't contact Yoongi at the moment either, which meant drugs were now out of the question. So much for having fun. 

You downed your cup of beer, though you knew the most it would do was leave you buzzed. You could always start searching for the vodka you had seen earlier, but your dad was coming back tomorrow and you didn't want to be dealing with a killer hangover when meeting him. 

While your mind did back flips trying to figure out a way to salvage the night, your gaze caught Jimin at the other side of the room. He was laughing with a girl, rarely taking a sip from his cup as he listened to the girl talk about things you couldn't hear. 

You've heard a lot of people say that taking heroin feels like having 1000 orgasms at once. Obviously, there was nothing else that could achieve such a feeling.

But there was definitely something that came close.

As if hearing your thoughts, Jimin's eyes, which had been scanning the room nonchalantly, fell on your figure. When you didn't look away, he tilted his head, almost like he was asking a question. 

Your gaze flickered to the staircase before landing back on him. Hoping he'd get the hint, you started making your way up them, not waiting to see if he was following. 

Asking for sex was one thing you would not grant Park Jimin. If he wanted it, he was going to have to be smart enough to get it. 

After checking in on a few rooms, you finally entered one that wasn't occupied with a moaning mess of bodies. It was luxurious, with a king sized bed wrapped in comfy looking sheets, a fluffy carpet coating most of the floor and a mini chandelier hanging overhead. 

It made you wonder what the hell Taehyung's parents did for a living. 

Before you could ponder any further, the sound of the room’s door opening and then closing quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, which was then followed by the sound of light footsteps treading carefully on the wooden floor. 

When the footsteps softened because of the carpet, you turned around to find Jimin standing barely a foot away from you, his gaze focused on your still form. Now that the prospect of sex was a lot more likely, you let yourself properly enjoy the sight of him. Your eyes first started with his body, taking in the toned muscles that peaked through his white shirt and then his thick thighs that were exposed through his ripped jeans. 

"It looks like you've changed your mind," he said, taking a step closer, causing you to take a step back.

But Jimin simply took another step forward until you could feel the cold wall press into your back. One of his hands leaned against the wall behind your head while the other leaned against the wall beside your stomach, caging you in the process. It forced you to focus on his face now, rather than his body. His orange hair was still dishevelled, framing his face perfectly. Despite the softness of his cheeks, his jawline was sharp, along with his eyes and nose. With how close he was, you could see every dip and pore in his face, yet somehow you couldn't find a single flaw on his skin. 

His eyes scanned your own body and face the same way you had barely a second ago, pupils dilating in desire.

"Can I touch you, kitten?"

Ignoring the nickname, your gaze travelled down to his lips, which looked so soft and plump. You wanted to know how they would feel on your skin, especially on your own lips. 

You nodded slowly before breathing out your answer, "yes."

Jimin wasted no time pulling you closer towards him. He let his hands run down your arms and rest at your waist as his eyes flickered between your lips and neck, as if conflicted as to which one to start with.

As he pulled your waist against him, his lips started on your neck, leaving behind light kisses that gradually became more and more heated. His hand rubbed circles against your hip, in an oddly reassuring manner, while his lips started to lower to your collarbone. 

Your breathing started to intensify as Jimin left open mouthed kisses against your neck and jaw. 

"I was hoping you'd change your mind," he breathed against your neck. A new set of pleasuring shivers travelled down your spine.

"Why's that?"

His hand, which had been resting on your hip, traveled upwards to cup your cheek, "I wasn't joking when I said you had a pretty face."

The hand cupping your cheek suddenly pulled you forward as Jimin connected your lips with his. They were so soft and plump as they moved against yours, causing your stomach to flutter in satisfaction. You never realised just how pleasurable making out was until today.

Jimin’s lips travelled back to your neck as he continued to drop heated kisses against your skin. You could still feel his hand rubbing circles into your hip while the other brushed against your cheek to hold your head steady. 

Feeling a little hazy, your hand disappeared into your pocket to bring out the white bottle Yoongi had given you this morning. As Jimin continued to wreck your neck in the most pleasurable way possible, you opened the bottle behind his back and moved it to down a pill or two. 

But the sound of its opening caused Jimin to look up until he eyed the bottle in your hand. 

"Are those drugs?" He asked suddenly, pulling away from you slightly. 

"No they're just Skittles," you replied sarcastically, moving the bottle towards your lips once again. But before you could pop even one pill, Jimin swiped the bottle out of your hand and chucked it into the trash can across the room. 

"Wh- Hey! What the hell?!" You protested, but he gently pushed you back against the wall.

"No drugs in the bedroom."

Before you could scoff he closed the distance between the two of you once again, letting his lips brush against your ear, "you're in my bedroom, Y/N. That means you follow my rules."

As if to make a point, he brushed his fingers against the inside of your clothed thigh, pulling a heavy breath from your lips. 

Your irritation soon morphed into pleasure as Jimin brought his lips to yours once again. One of his hands was still rubbing circles against your hip, but the other had moved down to your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“Why did you-” he paused at the sight of you as he pulled back for a moment. Swollen lips, messy hair, heavy pants… Jimin didn’t think he’d ever encountered someone hotter in his entire life. 

He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice the pause, “why’d you change your mind?”

You took him in for a moment. His rust-coloured hair was dishevelled, with a few strands falling onto his forehead, while his plush lips separated to accommodate his heavy breaths. 

You shrugged. 

“I wanted to try a different kind of fun,”

“Fun?” He repeated with a grin.

You felt his hand circle your wrist before he guided you away from the wall. From this angle, you got to enjoy his back muscles peeking from his white shirt before he turned back to you. 

“Clothes off. Get on the bed,” he instructed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to a corner. 

“I’ll show you what fun is, kitten.”

Next Chapter...

[webdollzz]

ok so here’s what I was thinkin’ lol!

we all know how Mike met Eleven. Now instead of Mike in that situation, let’s put Eddie. He goes to that picnic table in the woods and ends up finding a girl around his age (she refuses to talk cause of how scared she is and has a hard time using her powers on command). She’s super scared of Eddie and he eventually convinces her to come back to his trailer where she’d be safe. I can only imagine how sweet and gentle Eddie would be with her, wraps a blanket around her while she lays on his bed😭,he’d probably treat her like a baby bird, and thinks she’s the most delicate thing ever 🥺😂lol

Delicacy

warnings: none, tooth rotting fluff , Eddie x shy!telekinetic!fem!reader. Gentle!Eddie. Reader can speak, but she doesn't talk much due to shyness. use of y/n ONCE and it was reader introducing herself. swearing, it's Eddie. cmon now. drug talk. again. it's Eddie. 1st person pov?

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the leaves crunch under my feet. I have just escaped the lab and I have no idea where I'm going, because I never left of course. I turn a certain corner in the woods, and I'm revlived to see a bench. But as I step closer my anxiety spikes again. There's someone there, a man. I try to step back in order to make a quick and sly exit but I step on a twig that makes a loud SNAP. the man's head flew up from his metal container, shutting it almost instantly.

" Uhh..Hello? anyone there?"

He shouts out. You're debating on whether backing up or stepping out. just as you decide to back, the man turns his head a certain way that he's able to see your legs, and your oversized tee.

"Oh! oh, um, hey!" He says, and you peak out enough that he sees your eye.

"Yeah, you. You okay? do you need me to call somebody or..can you come out here?" He says, giving you a one up. You step out and edge closer to the bench, being very cautious because he could be someone from the lab.

"Are you okay? He whispers so he doesn't startle you. You nod slightly and stand just infront of the seat. He notices you're tensing your hands and focusing on his metal container before him. You're struggling to use your power. It's been weak since you left the lab. He just assumes you're cold, though.

"Oh! you must be freezing wearing only that in minus 4 weather. Cmere!" He says, taking off his jacket and walking round the table towards you. He leans to put the jacket on you, but you flinch and step back.

"Hey, nono it's okay, here, sorry." He noticed how you flinched and decided to just hand you the jacket. You take it out of his hands and put your arms in the sleeves.

"Hey why don't I take you to my house? well- it's not a house it's more of a mini house. Anyway, you look freezing and it's supposed to snow tonight and I can't just leave you out here. If you'd feel more comfortable you can sit in the back of my car so you don't have to be that close to me." He rambles, clearly trying to make it known you're safe and he isn't even gonna breathe without making sure you're okay with that.

"No..no. okay. I sit in with you." You speak, trying to make yourself sound tougher to no avail. "Oh! oh you can speak. okay! Great, just this way, uh..your name?" He's shocked you can speak, he actually kinda thought you were an homeless exchange student.

"..I'm y/n. You're?" I whisper.

"right! my apologies. Eddie, Eddie munson." He says, wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady.

"..Munson?" You mumble, struggling to say the word a little.

"Yeah..its like..a second name. If there was three Eddie's in a line, and they all looked like me but have different last names, you'd know which one was me because they don't have munson as their last name. You..uh do you understand that?" He struggles to find a way to explain a last name, who knew it'd be hard to explain such a simple thing. You think about it for a second before saying

"Makes..sense." He gives you a soft smile before realising he left his metal box

"Oh! shit, sorry, I left my box . I'll be right back." He says, removing his arm from around you but you catch his wrist.

"No, wait. Let me..." You whisper, he's clearly confused but stops. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before focusing all your attention on the box. It starts rattling, shaking almost. It begins to slowly and shakily make its way towards you.

"WOAH! woah what the fuck?!" He says, practically flying backwards towards his car. His reaction startles you and you flinch and the box drops on the floor about halfway. You step back towards a tree and lean against it.

"Wait, sorry, Im just..I've.. never quite seen something like that before." He whispers the last bit as he bends down to pick up his box.

"Come on back, It's okay. I'm sorry I shouted , just surprised. Cmere, you're safe." He says, reaching a hand out to you. which you look at before you slowly take it.

"Safe?" You mumble.

"Yeah..yeah safe. You know what it means?" He replies, looking at you.

You nod "I know..never felt."

He left out a soft 'ah'.

You're now in his car about 4 to 5 minutes away from his trailer. Without him realising , you take the metal box and open it up . You see a little bag with..balled up grass? in it. You smell it and immediately let out a huff due to the extreme smell. Weird smelling grass. Eddie glances over, double taking when he realises what you have.

"Woahhwoah. careful with that, it's not even mine- here give it, I'll put it back later." He says, switching to one hand to drive the car and the other is reaching for the bagged up green ball.

You hand it to him, and he shoves it in his back pocket as he pulls into his trailer. He steps out whilst you're still trying to get out, forgetting you have a seat belt on. He opens you door and realises you haven't taken your belt off. he chuckles softly before leaning over you, making you wonder what he was doing so you lean down too, you hear a soft -click- He leans back up not knowing you leant down too so your noses practically brush together. He makes a sly glance at your lips to your eyes before removing your belt and softly taking your hand in his to step you out the vehicle. He walks you into his trailer, sitting you down softly on the couch.

"Do you have any injuries? like um..cuts? or scratches?" He asks, standing back upright. You nod and lift up your shirt a little to reveal a cut, not heavily bleeding but still needs to be taken care of.

"Okay, im gonna go grab some clothes and a first aid kit, stay here, look around, just don't leave , kay?" He says, giving a look towards the door. You softly nod and he walks towards his bedroom. You stand up and begin to look at a bunch of tapes.

there's some words on them you've never seen or heard them. meta-llica? Iron mayden? goodness knows. he walks back out looking towards the couch seeing your not there and snaps his head towards the door thinking you left but seeing you kneeling in the corner with a bunch of tapes. He let's out a soft laugh

"I see you found my music." His voice makes you flinch a little. "Here, the bathroom is just there. You can wear these until we get you some girl clothes. Unless you like those. sure we could find you some." You nod and walk towards the bathroom, turning around and shutting it. You slip on what he's given you, some black pants and a shirt that says.. Black..sab-beth? How have you never heard these words before? Weird. You walk out and eddie smiles at seeing you in his clothes because they're huge on you. "Here..May I?" He says, gesturing to your bottom half. You turn your head and lift up your arms thinking he was gonna take your shirt off.

He softly reaches towards the joggers and rolls them so they're not as big. His fingers grazes softly on your hips, they're cold so it makes you twitch a little. He let's out a soft sorry.

"Sit, gotta clean up that cut or it'll get infected." He sounds, patting the couch. you do as he said and opened your legs a little so he could reach the cut on your stomach.

"Okay, good job. Could you hold your shirt up to about..there? please. thank you." He says, lifitng your shirt softly so he can gain access to the cut better.

"this might hurt." He whispers before patting a alcohol cloth on the cut. You gasp and grab his arm, pushing him away slightly.

"Sorry! Sorry. just a little more. you're doing really good." You make your hold less tight and let him do what he's gonna do.

As he's doing that he begins to speak. "Hey..um. if you don't mind me asking, how did you do that? back there. The whole...floaty..thing. Whatever it was." You shrug.

"I was a in a lab, put in a water tube, with a funny hat on with strings attached and I saw things. Trained me to move things without touching. There is others...Was." You mumble, correcting yourself. His eyebrows raise slightly.

"They did tests on you?" He asks, leaning back because he finished. You just stare at him, making him realise you don't know how bad that is.

"Right..anyway, you're all bandaged up. I'll change it tomorrow. Until then, is there something you wanna do?" You glance around, tapes catching your eye again. you stand up and walk towards them, trying to find one that matches the words on your shirt.

You eventually find one called "Black sabbeth: Paranoid." You hand it to Eddie, pointing to your shirt.

"The same." you spoke.

He nods with big grin. "Yeah! they're the same. You wanna listen?"

He asks, taking it out of your hands. You nod and he walks over to put the tape in, turning the volume down to 11 so it's not too loud for you. You sit down on the couch, waiting for the song to begin, he joins you and it begins. After a few seconds, maybe 10 or 20, you bop your head along. getting the rhythm. He laughs whilst looking at you.

"Bitchin', right?" He smiles.

You stare for a few seconds before returning the soft smile.

"Bitchin'."

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thank you for your request, lauren! always a pleasure to write for you. Hope I did it justice! also no that is not how i spell or say those metal bands. I was doing it in a way that makes it sound like the reader is trying to sound it out in her head!